Fyrlight

i don’t even know

[fyrlight]

WELCOME

uhh, so i’m new here but i hope you like what i write! i write in ao3 and mostly write marvel fics. i love wandanat and agathario and katelena. though ive also gotten a tiny bit into castlevania.

i’ll also write headcanons and such as well as my own original thing if you would like… i’m also starting to write poetry, so once i copyright it, it shall be posted

i’m probably not gonna be very active, so i’m sorry for that, but i’ll try to be active. i’m also trying to get the hand of the masterlist, so it might suck and i apologize in advance.

i hope you enjoy what i write and if you have any suggestions, feel free to give me some, also please give me feedback, it would be much appreciated!

also, i will happily take requests for poems, i just need one word and i’ll happily attempt to make one

MASTERLIST

[midastouch013]

Shy

Based on this req

I don't remember if i used this gif already, but there's not enough Nat gifs out there.

Summary: You're the new rookie to the avengers. Shy? Definitely not you. Sarcastic? Yes. But around a certain redhead, shy is all that you are

Warnings: Just you being a shy mess around her

------

You noticed it the second week you moved into the Tower.

Not the crush. God, no. You’d noticed that the first time Natasha Romanoff leaned against the briefing table and gave you a lazy little “you keeping up, rookie?” with one eyebrow raised.

No, the thing you noticed in week two was worse.

You physically could not act normal around her.

Everyone else? Easy.

You sparred with Steve without flinching. You stole fries off Sam’s plate. You sat cross-legged on Bruce’s lab counter while he rambled science at you for an hour straight. You even let Tony drag you into one of his chaotic workshop arguments.

But Natasha?

Natasha walked into a room and suddenly you forgot how chairs worked.

It was humiliating.

“Pass the salt.”

You nearly dropped the entire container into your soup.

Natasha blinked at you from across the dinner table.

“…You okay?”

“Yep,” you answered too quickly.

Sam snorted into his drink.

You kicked him under the table without looking.

Natasha took the salt from your hand carefully, fingers brushing yours for maybe half a second.

You stopped breathing.

Actually stopped.

She frowned a little. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Mhm.”

Your voice cracked.

Clint outright choked laughing.

—

Natasha, somehow, did not get it.

Which made absolutely no sense because she was literally one of the best spies in the world.

She could tell when people lied before they even opened their mouths. She noticed tiny shifts in posture, changes in breathing, microexpressions.

But apparently your painfully obvious crush existed in a blind spot.

Or maybe—

Maybe she noticed and just didn’t care.

That possibility haunted you most.

So you avoided her.

Not dramatically. You weren’t hiding behind walls or sprinting in the opposite direction.

You just… strategically disappeared.

If Natasha entered the kitchen, suddenly you remembered you had laundry.

If she sat beside you during movie night, you’d excuse yourself for water you didn’t need.

If she tried talking to you one-on-one for too long, your brain melted into static.

It got so bad that one morning Steve found you fully climbing back out of the common room window.

“…Why are you using the fire escape?”

You glanced past him.

Natasha was inside making coffee.

“…Fresh air.”

Steve looked unconvinced.

“You live on the thirty-eighth floor.”

“Cardio?”

—

The thing was, Natasha made it impossible.

She wasn’t even trying.

She’d casually sling an arm around your shoulder after missions.

She’d smirk at you from across the training room.

She’d praise you in that low, rough voice like it was nothing.

“Nice shot.”

“Good work.”

“You’re improving.”

And every single time, your brain replayed it for the next six business days.

The worst part?

Natasha liked being around you.

A lot.

She liked your dry sarcasm. She liked how you got protective over the team despite being newer and younger. She liked how your hair curled slightly at the nape of your neck after training.

She especially liked making you flustered.

Not maliciously.

It was just… cute.

You’d get all stiff and avoid eye contact while trying so hard to act normal.

And Natasha, despite decades of emotional repression and spy instincts, had somehow mistaken your crush for intimidation.

Which honestly offended her a little.

One night after a mission, she cornered Clint in the kitchen while he dug through the fridge.

“She’s scared of me.”

Clint stared at her.

Then he started laughing.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“Oh my God,” he wheezed. “You seriously don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Clint.”

He looked at her for a long moment.

Then realization slowly crossed his face.

“Oh my God,” he said again, quieter this time. “You like her too.”

Natasha scoffed immediately. “I do not.”

“Nat.”

“I don’t.”

“You look at her like she personally invented sunlight.”

Natasha opened her mouth.

Closed it.

“…That dramatic?”

“Worse.”

—

After that conversation, Natasha started paying attention.

And suddenly everything clicked into place.

The nervous fidgeting.

The avoiding.

The staring when you thought she wasn’t looking.

The way you’d go completely silent whenever she sat too close.

Oh.

Oh.

The realization hit her so hard she nearly walked into a glass door.

You had a crush on her.

A big one.

And somehow, impossibly—

Natasha felt warmth bloom low in her chest at the thought.

—

The next few days were torture for both of you.

Because now Natasha noticed everything.

Like how your ears turned red when she touched your arm.

Or how you always looked for her first after missions.

Or how your entire face softened whenever you thought no one was watching.

It was unbearably endearing.

Which became a problem when Natasha started getting shy too.

Not externally, obviously.

Natasha Romanoff didn’t really do externally shy.

But internally?

Disaster.

You smiled at her in the elevator one morning and she forgot what floor she needed.

You complimented her fighting stance during training (something which you had taken a whole of 30 minutes to muster up the courage for) and she spent the next hour punching the bag hard enough to split seams.

It was deeply inconvenient.

—

The breaking point came during movie night.

You were curled into the far corner of the couch, hoodie sleeves shoved over your hands, trying very hard to focus on the screen.

Natasha arrived late carrying popcorn.

Your heart immediately started acting traitorous.

There was exactly one open spot left.

Beside you.

Of course.

You contemplated death briefly.

Natasha sat down close enough that your shoulders touched.

You froze.

Completely.

She noticed instantly.

And this time, instead of pretending not to, Natasha tilted her head slightly.

“You always this nervous around me?”

Your eyes widened.

“…No?”

“Liar.”

The fondness in her voice made your stomach flip.

You stared determinedly at the TV.

“I’m not nervous.”

Natasha hummed softly. “So if I did this—”

Her fingers slipped carefully around your wrist where it rested against your knee.

Gentle.

Warm.

You nearly short-circuited. Luckily no one noticed, at least, they pretended not to

“Shut up,” you muttered weakly, still staring straight ahead.

Natasha’s thumb brushed against your pulse.

Way too aware. She was way too aware of how fast your heartbeat got.

Her expression softened.

“You know,” she murmured quietly enough just for you, “for someone so confident around everyone else…”

You finally looked at her.

Big mistake.

Natasha was already watching you with this small, impossibly soft smile.

Not smug.

Not teasing.

Just… warm.

Your face burned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Probably.”

But she still didn’t let go of your wrist.

Actually, her fingers slid down slowly until they tangled with yours.

Your brain stopped functioning entirely.

Natasha squeezed your hand once.

Then, very casually, she leaned her head against your shoulder.

You looked at her like she’d personally rewritten reality.

Natasha didn’t look up from the movie.

But you caught the tiny smile tugging at her mouth when your fingers squeezed hers back.

---

[marvelselfinserts]

hi hi!! i love your writing. can you write a wandanat x reader fic where readers mom is just a terrible human just overall terrible, verbally abusive, tears reader down. and reader has briefly talked to wandanat about her mom but not to the full extent. one day reader thinks she has the house to herself and is talking to her mom on speaker and wandanat hear the whole conversation where reader is just taking verbal punches and insults from her mom.

Self-Confidence

ScarletWidow x Fem!Reader [A/N] Going on holiday this Saturday and my brother very kindly gave me his cold 🙃 Everyone keep your fingers crossed it shifts quickly! Thank you for this request my lovely, hope you all enjoy 😘

“Is everything okay?” Natasha asks, approaching you in the hallway and putting a tentative hand on your shoulder. “You just… Bolted.”

You nod, telling yourself firmly that you’re not going to cry even though you feel like the entire world is crumbling around you. You wrap your arms around yourself whilst Natasha runs her thumb over your shoulder, clearly wanting to comfort you but struggling to know how given she doesn’t know why she’s comforting you.

This is all Sam’s fault. He’d been the one to suggest training outside of the gym, training in other areas. He’d argued that their job as Avengers was to protect the public, that their job descriptions went far beyond kicking and punching. For example, community work, visiting schools, hospitals etc. That was why they’d organised child protection training, and the team had been split into two, one half attending a morning session with the other attending an afternoon session. Nearly everyone had grumbled about it, but you didn’t mind – it would be an opportunity to sit and have a coffee and a pastry, rather than running around the gym until you questioned why you’d taken this job on in the first place.

Although the subject material wasn’t exactly light-hearted you’d still found it interesting in a sense. The tutor had gone over how to identify those children who were being physically abused or neglected, and which services to refer them to. Although the role of the Avengers in child protection weren’t quite clear yet, you were being encouraged to look out for the signs, and to refer as soon as possible if you had suspicions.

It had been going fine until the section on emotional abuse. “Emotional abuse is often more difficult to spot,” The tutor had explained. “But it’s just as insidious, and just as harmful.”

As he’d gone through the checklist of what counted as emotional abuse your heart had sank and your stomach had churned. With every word that left his mouth, you realised that your own mother had abused you – and no one had realised. Not even you until that very moment.

Suddenly you’d jumped up from your desk and bolted out of the room, followed shortly by your girlfriend, Natasha. From the way she’s looking at you, you can tell that she doesn’t suspect it was the subject matter. Natasha’s hand moves to run over your back, and you suppose she figures you’d suddenly felt unwell. That was as good of an excuse as any, so you mumble something about going to lie down. Natasha offers to help you, but you shake your head, telling her you’ll meet up with her later.

Wanda hadn’t been in the morning session, something she’d complained about immensely when she’d realised you and Natasha were in the same session without her. You’d all promised to meet up in the evening for dinner so you tell yourself you’ll have some time alone and then you’ll still meet them both as planned, deciding that spending time with the two of them will make you feel better rather than avoiding them. No doubt Natasha will tell Wanda that you’d bolted from the training, but you can always say you had a headache, that taking a nap had worked wonders.

You step into the room that you’ve been sharing with Natasha and Wanda for a few months now, climbing into the freshly made bed. Tony hiring cleaning staff had made you uncomfortable at first, but they do keep everything so fresh and tidy… You bury your face into the pillow and groan, trying to push the training out of your mind.

Thoughts eventually stray to your childhood though you try desperately to push them away. Things hadn’t been so bad whilst your Dad was alive. You’d always been a Daddy’s girl, and he never shied away from spending time with you. By the time you were ten you were joining him on his morning runs, and sat down every time there was a game to watch football with him. He’d take you to his base, proudly showing off his daughter to his military buddies.

He’d died when you were twelve. Your entire world had fallen apart. The only family you had left was your mother given she and your Dad had been only children, and you also had no siblings. You’d hoped the tragedy would bring you closer together but if anything it created a wider rift between the two of you.

By the time you were fifteen you avoided being home whenever possible. You’d joined the American Cadet Alliance, and worked hard in the hopes of following in your Father’s footsteps one day. Joining the Avengers had been unexpected but welcome. Knowing that you were serving your country just as your Dad had done had brought you a great deal of comfort.

Cadets was the only thing that had given you confidence – your mother had torn apart nearly every shred of it. Even now if Wanda or Natasha tells you that you look pretty, you don’t believe them. Your only sense of worth comes from being an Avenger, from being good at your job. Every other achievement in your life had been belittled by the woman who was supposed to love you unconditionally. Cadets had been your escape – there’d been adults there who praised you, who seemed to genuinely like you. Camping retreats had been a lifetime, a couple of nights away from the house that was supposed to be home but felt more like a nightmare.

When you were at home, you spent most of your time in your room, your head buried in whatever book you’d been able to get your hands on from your schools library. As soon as you turned eighteen you left home, signing up for the army where you’d been recruited to SHIELD, then eventually the Avengers. You’d hoped to leave behind the little girl that you once were. And maybe you could have, if your mother hadn’t called you every day to guilt trip you about never visiting her.

“I mean, I raised you by myself after your Dad died. It was really difficult,” She’d drawl down the phone. “Now you’re all successful and you think you’re too good for me.”

Luckily you could get away with saying you were too busy most of the time. Some kind of Avengers emergency meaning you couldn’t go home for Thanksgiving, for Christmas, for Mother’s Day. You’d go online and order gifts and cards to send direct to her house, hoping they would keep her at bay. It didn’t stop the daily phone calls though, the guilt tripping, the-

You’re interrupted from your thoughts by the door opening and a familiar, soft voice calling out, “Y/N?”

You roll onto your side and give Wanda a small smile. It’s just like Wanda to hear that you’re potentially ill to then immediately come and check on you to see for herself. “Hey Wands.”

“Natasha said you weren’t feeling well.”

“I’m fine, just… Need to lie down for a bit.”

“Do you want me to lie down with you? I’m so bored without you and Natasha. You guys got put in the group with everyone fun. I tried sparring with Scott, it was… Interesting.”

You give a small smile, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Wanda crosses the room and lies down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your forehead before teasing quietly, “I hope you haven’t got anything contagious.”

You let out a laugh that’s more a huff of air, “No, just a little tired I guess. I’ll be okay at dinnertime. What’s the plan?”

“I thought we could go to that bistro we all like then go for a walk afterwards since the weather is so nice.”

“That sounds good; I’m looking forward to it.”

Your thoughts still swirl as you bury your face in Wanda’s chest. You’d told Natasha and Wanda about your mom. “We didn’t always see eye to eye when I was a teenager,” was how you’d described it. “Sometimes she wasn’t very nice to me.”

And as far as you were aware, that was the truth. You’d never considered that what she’d done had been… Abuse.

Having Wanda lie with you is warm and comforting, especially when she begins running her hand up and down your back. Natasha is more squeamish when one of you is unwell, whereas Wanda is happier to play nurse to make sure her girlfriends’ are as comfortable as possible. Wanda presses another kiss to your forehead, happy to just lie with you. Eventually she puts on her relaxing playlist, the low music washing over you both as you spend the morning cuddling. It makes you feel better but the nagging thought of what you’d learnt that morning plays in the back of your mind like a broken record.

Wanda makes you soup for lunch which you eat in your room, and Natasha joins you both. Their company is much appreciated but soon Wanda has to go the afternoon session for the child protection seminar, and Natasha heads to training. Wanda lingers in the doorway, clearly feeling bad about leaving you alone but you just smile and wave her off, telling her you’ll feel better by dinnertime.

You put your headphones in and listen to an audio book, something you always turn to when you need to get out of your own head. If you concentrate on anything other than the words being read aloud you lose the thread of the story, so you have no choice but to shove any other thoughts out of your brain. The afternoon passes peacefully and for a brief few hours you finally manage to forget about your mom, and the truth of how she’d treated you when you were young.

Your peace is interrupted by your phone ringing, cutting off the calming voice of the narrator you’d been listening to. You pull your headphones out, already knowing who it is. She calls at random times of the day, almost as if she knows that you dread her daily calls, and she wants to keep you on edge as much as possible.

You sit up, answering the call and placing your mother on speaker, putting the phone down on the bed in front of you. “Hey Mom.”

“What? For God’s sake Y/N, speak up, you’re forever mumbling. How they ever let you into the army with that voice, I’ll never know.”

You immediately wilt, as you always do when she calls. You rack your brains trying to remember something positive your mother has ever said to you. Your mind comes up blank. All your memories of her in your childhood and adulthood are nothing but negativity and insults.

“How have you been?” You ask in the same tiny voice that only seems to come out when you’re talking with her.

“I saw you on the news. How many times have I told you about your hair? I’m surprised the team haven’t said anything to you to be honest, it must be unprofessional to have it that style-”

Thus begins the tirade of most recent complaints your mother has about you. No mention of the fact that you’d been on the TV in the first place because you’d rescued twenty-four children from a burning hospital in Manhattan. There’s no ‘congratulations’, no ‘well done’ and certainly no ‘I’m so proud of you’. Every day your mother has a brand-new complaint. You could cut your hair exactly as she wanted and the next day she’d complain about your weight, your make-up, your lack of make-up, your taste in clothes, the way you’d talked too much in that interview you’d seen, the way you hadn’t talked enough in another one she’d seen. There was literally nothing you could do to please her and with every word you feel yourself curling in on yourself more and more.

“- I’m not even sure why you left SHIELD to be honest, that was a perfectly respectable position, especially compared to some of the things I hear about those Avengers-”

She’d hated when you’d joined SHIELD. You should've stayed with the army, even though she'd hated that too. Now you had a new job, SHIELD was apparently the place to work.

“- Not like you even have powers like that one girl, oh the one with the funny name, Wanda?”

Your cheeks burn as you think about Wanda, hoping she doesn’t have anything more to say about her or Natasha. You’d never told your mom about your sexuality or that you were dating not just one but two women. Your mom had enough ammunition as it was without you feeding her anything further.

As the onslaught of thinly veiled insults and critiques of you keep coming, you eventually manage to mumble, “Hey Mom… I had training this morning.”

“Yes, I imagine you need as much as you can get. You looked a little-”

“No, not that kind of training, we have that every day. It was child protection training.”

“Child protection? What on earth do you need that for? You couldn’t protect a goldfish, let alone a child.”

“Well we work with children so we decided it would be a good idea. They told us what to look out for in physical abuse and neglect, and…” You swallow hard before mumbling, “Emotional abuse.”

“What was that? Honestly Y/N, the mumbling is a real issue, I thought that when they interviewed you last week-”

“They taught us about emotional abuse, Mom. What to look out for. And I realised…” You take a deep breath, your heart pounding loudly in your chest, feeling light-headed as you dare yourself to say, “You emotionally abused me. In fact, you still do.”

For a moment there’s nothing but stunned silence on the other end of the phone – that’s a first. Over the years you’ve found there’s nothing you can say to your mom to shut her up. Anything positive that you say is turned against you, and any time you try to get her advice or support on something, she uses it as another reason to attack you.

“Y/N, honestly,” Your mom eventually says in a strained voice. “After everything I’ve done for you. Raising you alone, giving you everything that you needed. I mean, you haven’t come to see me in years, and I still make the time to call you every single day-”

“I don’t want you to call me,” You say in the loudest voice you dare. “And I don’t want to come and visit you. You didn’t give me everything I needed. I needed love and praise and support, and you-”

“Well you were so silly at times. There was always something with you, some drama with a girl at school or hysteria over some swim meet, and the cadets thing, especially after what happened to your Dad, it was all a bit morbid. You’ve always been a strange child, and you never really grew out of it.”

“The ‘drama’ with the girl at school was that I was being bullied and you didn’t do anything. My ‘hysteria’ over the swim meet was because I had a tournament in Massachusetts, something that meant a lot to me and you wouldn’t even-”

“Here we go again! It happened over ten years ago and yet you’re acting as if it happened yesterday!”

“You never care about anything important to me. Not even my work-”

“Oh for God’s sake Y/N, you think you’re so much better than the rest of the world just because you’re an Avenger? Well you’re not. The team would manage perfectly fine without you, it’s not like you have powers or even an excellent mind like that Tony Stark and as for Captain America, he could run laps around you, you know he could. There’s nothing special about you Y/N, nothing at all, so stop kidding yourself that-”

The line suddenly goes dead and you open your eyes, realising for the first time that you’d squeezed them shut. Natasha is standing in front of you with Wanda just behind her, both of them looking horrified. “Y/N…” Wanda eventually mumbles.

On the bed your phone vibrates as your mom tries to call you back. Natasha snatches up the phone, quickly rejecting the call, “You’re blocking her number.”

“She’ll come here-”

“And then what?” Natasha asks, looking at you, her eyes blazing. “It’s a secure building, they won’t let her in. Her picture isn’t on the approved list of visitors. She can kick up a fuss as much as she wants, they won’t even let her past the gates.”

Wanda says nothing, just sits down on the bed next to you, placing her hand on your shoulder. You watch as Natasha furiously stabs at your phone, waiting for the tears to come, but they don’t. Instead you just lean your head on Wanda’s shoulder, relaxing a little when she kisses your forehead, her arm moving to wrap around your shoulders.

“You did really well,” Wanda says softly. “Standing up for yourself like that.”

“I wish you’d told us,” Natasha says, “That it was that bad.”

“I didn’t realise until the training,” You mumble. “I never thought it was…”

Even though you’d said the word ‘abuse’ to your mom, you find you can’t bring yourself to say it now. Natasha sits down in front of you, reaching out to take your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers. “Wanda’s right though. You did the right thing.”

“I always assumed you two got on okay. That whatever had happened when you were younger had passed, especially since you talk every day.” Wanda says, “You’ve had to listen to that every single day for years?”

You nod and Natasha sighs, “Look, I know that a few kind words from us aren’t going to fix everything that your mom’s managed to convince you, but you are special, Y/N. You’re hard-working and kind and this team would fall apart without you.”

“No it wouldn’t,” You mumble. “She was right about that. I’m not anything special-”

“Yes, you are,” Wanda insists. “You’re the one that all the kids trust when we’re on missions.”

That was true – more than once a child had been in danger and you’d been sent through. You had a way with children, able to coax them out of dangerous hiding places, able to give them the courage to follow you no matter how scared they were. If the Avengers ever thought a child had intel that they needed, you were sent. You had a natural rapport with children, a way with them that none of the other Avengers did.

“You’re here because of years of hard work,” Natasha says firmly. “Nobody has earned their spot in this team more than you have.”

“We love you,” Wanda says. “Avenger or not, we love you so much. You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of love. You’re our girl.”

“You need to keep her out of your life,” Natasha says. “If you decide you do want anything to do with her then it should be on your terms. She might be your Mom but that… That’s just a word. Just because she gave birth to you all those years ago doesn’t mean you owe her anything. She chose to have you, you didn’t ask to be brought into this world, and you certainly didn’t ask to have her for a mother.”

“I just… I need a break. Some time to think. She never gave me any of that and after everything I learnt this morning…” You let out a sigh as Wanda kisses your forehead again. “I don’t know what I want right now.”

“Her numbers blocked. You get to choose if and when you unblock it. You have the power to hang up the phone Y/N, she doesn’t get to make you feel this way anymore.” Natasha squeezes your hand again. “Are you okay? We can stay in if you want.”

You shake your head, “No… No, I’ve been cooped up in this room all day. I want to go out with my favourite girls.”

Wanda smiles and kisses your cheek, “Perfect then that’s what we’ll do. Dinner and a walk with our favourite girl.”

You get changed into something nice, feeling your stomach churn when Natasha and Wanda shower you with praise, telling you how beautiful you look. It’s still a struggle to believe them but you know they’re right about your mom. You don’t owe her anything. You’re not a child anymore, and you can choose what your relationship with her looks like. There’s no rush though – right now you want to focus on enjoying yourself with the two women who have done nothing but try to boost your confidence ever since you met them.

Before you leave you glance at the newspaper clipping Natasha had insisted on cutting out and sticking to the mirror, showing you after your successful mission earlier this week. Somewhere out there, you know your Dad is proud of you. But more than that – you’re proud of yourself and the person you’ve become. That's something your Mom can never take from you, no matter how much she might try.

[daddybils]

im in a very vulnerable state if any hot lesbian wants a turn at ruining my life

[txumnga]

Kid!Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: The avengers took Wanda back to new york after the fall of sokovia, she’s completely withdrawn, and without any family left. Natasha was assigned to take care of her, but along the way it become more than just an assignment.

A/n: I suck butt at summarys… Anyways lmk if you want a part 2!

The tower always felt quieter in the evenings, everyone was either in their rooms getting ready to power off their minds, or hanging out in the common area quietly existing in one anothers presence.

But tonight that wasn’t the case.

Sokovia left everyone a little shaken, some more than others. Tony and Clint were still in medbay, Thor had already left back to asgard. Bruce was doing something in his lab, and Steve was in the training room hitting punching bags so hard they fell right off the chains keeping them suspended in the air.

The tower was still humming with the chaos from the day. Nobody entirely ready to face whatever was waiting for them in their sleep.

Natasha was in the kitchen, scooping lukewarm takeout onto a plate while she listened to the news channel talk about something happening on the other side of the united states. There wasn’t anything about Sokovia yet — shockingly. Usually news channels would’ve been all over it the second the event was over.

She sighed when she stepped away from the counter, wiping her hands on a tea towel despite having nothing on them. Then, she filled up a glass with cold water, holding it in one hand and grabbing the plate with the other.

She walked across the room silently, biting the inside of her cheek as she approached the dark hallway that led to the Sokovian girl — Clint said her name was Wanda.

He’d insisted she be brought back with them to New York. Natasha didn’t agree at first — but when she saw the distant look on the girls face, and saw just how young she looked, she couldn’t bring herself to say it wasn’t a good idea.

Now, Natasha stood infront of the door. Hesitating.

She never hesitated. Not when she pulled the trigger on a gun, not when she risked her own life to save another. So why was it happening now? She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and squeezing them tight.

Slowly, she pushed down on the door handle, listening to the springs inside it contract. Her foot nudged the door open, the hinges squealing as the room came into view.

The first thing Natasha did was flick the lightswitch on, her eyes squinting briefly while she adjusted to the bright overhead light. Her eyes searched the room, it was exactly as it’d been hours ago when she showed it to Wanda.

Then, she flicked her gaze to the bed, noticing that the only thing different about it was that the duvet was wrinkled and there was someone laying on it.

Wanda was facing away from the rest of the room, one hand tucked under her head, the other fidgeting with the jewlery around her neck like it alone was keeping her present.

Natasha stepped carefully towards the bed, unsure of how Wanda would take to proximity. She stared at the back of her head before sweeping over her form.

She hasn’t spoken since she got on the quinjet.

Hasn’t left the bedroom since Natasha showed it to her hours ago.

When they brought her into the medbay, she just stared at the floor, legs dangling off the edge of the cot while she fidgeted absently with a bracelet.

Natasha cleared her throat suddenly, causing the young girl infront of her to tense — Just barely, Natasha wouldn’t have noticed if she wasn’t staring right at her.

“You should eat.” She said, pressing her lips together and placing the plate and glass on the nightstand. “It’ll help”

She didn’t wait for a response, or even a hint of acknowledgement before turning away from Wanda — She knew the chances of getting either of those was low — and closing the door quietly behind her.

A breath escaped her once she heard it click, as well as the tension her body had stored while she was in there. Her hand rested on the door handle briefly, her head dropping.

If Wanda truly hadn’t moved from that spot since she arrived, then she probably hasn’t used the bathroom at all, and the last time she did would most likely be before the battle started…

Natasha made a mental note to keep track of it.

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

A gentle breeze blew through Natashas hair as she stared down at the city — Still busy despite the late hour. She’d been standing on the balcony for atleast thirty minutes now, her thoughts skipping from one topic to another.

Her hands rested on the guard rail, every so often squeezing it when she was plagued by an uninvited thought.

She was about to zone out again when she heard the sound of the door sliding open behind her. She peeked over her shoulder, smiling gently when her eyes landed on Clint.

“Hey” She said quietly, turning back to the city as he came to stand next to her.

He murmured a greeting back, drumming his fingers on the metal rail. The space fell into a fragile silence, the only sound being the distant sound of cars humming down the road below.

Silence was always easy with Clint. Natasha never felt like she needed to fill it.

But this time it felt different.

It was heavier.

There was so much that needed to be said — by both of them — and she didn’t know where or how to start.

“So,” Natasha said, glancing briefly at her friend.

“So,” Clint echoed, pressing his lips together and nodding like they’d already discussed and concluded everything.

Neither of them said anything for a while, the atmosphere became almost awkward as they stood there — Both of them waiting for the other to speak.

Finally, Clint cleared his throat, looking towards Natasha. “How’s Wanda?”

Natasha shook her head the second she heard the first letter of the girls name. He had so much hope for her — Wouldn’t stop talking about her while he was being assessed in medbay earlier.

“Shes not great, Clint” A pause. She glanced briefly at the man, noticing the permanent crease between his eyebrows was deeper now, more pronounced. “It’s like shes not even here…”

Clint stared at her for a moment. Natasha could see him gripping onto the railing — Just like she’d done earlier. He turned away after that, sighing as he looked out into the city.

“Can’t blame her though, can you?” Clint replied softly. “…She’s hardly even a teenager.”

Natasha cringed at that. It just made Wandas whole situation more unfair. Thirteen years old and she’d already went through things people don’t usually go through until they’re old.

Less than a minute passed before Natasha muttered a goodnight and left Clint outside.

She headed straight to her room, locking the door behind her. When she flicked on the lights she was met with a weeks worth of mess.

Her bed was unmade, her red bedsheets wrinkled and bunched up around the spot that she slept in. There were clothes littered all over the floor and the top of her dresser was cluttered with basically everything she’s ever owned.

She walked further into the room, the carpet sinking beneath her feet. It was quiet — The kind that made it sound like even breathing was too loud. She liked it that way.

It allowed room for all her thoughts to come in clearly. But what she liked most about it was it never made her feel like she was being percieved. It was just her, and her alone.

The bed creaked as she crawled into it. Before laying down she flicked the switch to shut off the lights — She never liked walking to her bed in the dark, so she asked Tony to install a second lightswitch next to her bed.

She pulled her duvet up to her chin before allowing herself to sink into the mattress, taking a deep breath as her sore, tired muscles finally got a break.

Sleep didn’t come easy — It never did — But tonight was harder. Her brain didn’t want to shut off. There was too much to think about.

Eventually, she felt herself beginning to slow down. Felt her body become heavy. Then everything melted away, like icecream on a hot day. Nothing mattered right now. All that mattered was the warmth accumulated around her body, and the plushness of the pillow beneath her head.

She would worry more when she woke up.

[crashbandacoochie]

fyi if we’re mutuals you have full consent to be as feral as you want in asks and dms

[lqvras]

when she says "please mommy" but that definitely is my name so I give her whatever she wants

[pr3ttypunisherr]

🔸️especially cute how you get anxious and nervous like oh? the tough one needs a minute? was it too much for you? So sweet, come here and let me hold you. Always so in charge with everyone else, come be baby with me 🔸️

who is this 😵‍💫

are you in my discord…

😳😳

but yes ill be your baby

[please-let-me-be-horny-for-real]

Interrupt her anxious thoughts by putting your fingers inside her.

[ximenasbrokencd]

can't wait to say "during pride month?" at every minor inconvenience all of next month

[dykedysphemism]

i want to use a pretty girl like a chewtoy. i wanna grab her and just bite her lips, shoulders, neck, chest, waist and thighs. leaving teeth marks and lipstick stains all over her till she’s completely marked and everybody knows who she belongs to.

[calmbelly]

lack of manners is such an unattractive quality in a person

[wutjp-deactivated20210204]

Finger her until it starts dripping down her thighs

[iwantlizziebad]

this is my plannnnn guys

[lacyblackpaiir]

if something aggressively lesbian doesn't happen to me this summer i'm gonna do something drastic.

[lesbiannbat]

Being so horny ur pussy clench around nothing over and over again

[arched-flower]

I need to make out with a girl as she sits on my lap and grinds her pussy against my thigh. We're both down bad for each other and I slip a finger into her soaked pussy as her breathing becomes faster and faster. I ravage her insides with my hand and make her cum, and she falls down into my embrace. But I don't stop, I keep rubbing against her clit even as she orgasms. She screams out in bliss and I have to cover her mouth with my other hand to keep us from being found. She cums a second time as I start to suck on her nipples, tickling every nerve in her body at once. By the third orgasm, she can't move her body anymore. She has become my very own fucktoy, to do with as i please. After today, the only thing she can ever think about is me, and how only i can overstimulate her until she sees white.

[misspetbait]

does anyone wanna come have a lesbian summer with me? please?