This is just a short little angsty one shot because Natasha died on me, so it’s my turn to die on her.
The summer air was warm and clear as you breathed in and out. You were laying on your back in a field of grass dotted with wild flowers. A single cloud interrupted the endless blue of the sky. A bird flew in circles. You wondered distantly if it was a vulture, here to eat your body once you died. You didn’t mind. This was the natural cycle of things. You were beyond caring, beyond the pain that had once been white hot, beyond the sticky blood on your hands as they laid over the gaping hole in your side and beyond the sounds of battle around you. You felt light, lighter than you ever had before. No worries or fears plagued you. You took a deep breath and let your eyes close. You were ready to let go, ready to die. You inhaled what would be your final breath and a cold hand pressed against your throat.
“Y/n,” a voice said, worried, “Y/n, please.” The voice was familiar. It brought images of dancing in the kitchen, candlelight dinners and bad movies. The smell of gunpowder and vanilla that always clung to her filled your nostrils and forced your eyes open. At first, all you saw was the sky, but then a face filled your vision. Bright green eyes, cloudy now with tears, small lips pressed together in worry, framed by bright red hair. Even then you knew her. You pulled a singular blood slicked hand away from your side and up to her face.
“Natasha,” you said on an exhale and your hand fell. You felt your upper body pulled into her lap but stopped her before she could lift you.
“Natasha, please.” She looked down at you, bloody and beaten on her lap and paused. As you examined her face once more, you noticed a cut on her cheek bone, blood trailing down her perfect cheek. With all the effort you had, you brought your hand back up to her face. You wiped at the blood with your thumb.
“You’re hurt.” Your voice sounded distant, even to your own ears, but Natasha smiled anyway,
“You’re one to talk.” You laughed, which quickly turned into a cough. All the humor fell from Nat’s face, her brows furrowed in concern. You moved your hand over and pressed your thumb to the crease in between her eyebrows like you had so many times before,
“It’s alright.” You slid your hand back to her cheek. It felt like lead now, almost too heavy to hold up. You took a deep breath and let the power flow through you as you tried to heal her. Suddenly, she pulled away from your touch. The cut on her face was only half healed, but you couldn’t hold your hand up any longer. It thumped to your side as if it had been held up by an invisible rope and someone had just cut it free.
“Let me heal you,” you struggled to bring your hand back up to her face. She shook her head, again gathering her strength the lift you,
“No. Save your energy.”
“I need-,” you choked, “I need to heal you.” Natasha shook her head again,
“Focus your energy on living.” Something inside you seemed to snap,
“I’m not going to live!” Natasha looked like a kicked puppy, tears were flowing through the dirt and blood on her face, leaving little tracks of light skin behind then, like a fresh coat of paint,
“Yes,” she said, “you are.” Her voice dropped then, shaky and filled with an unimaginable pain, “I need you…if you die-” her voice caught in her throat and her tears began to drip onto your face.
“Okay,” you said, hoping to reassure her, “okay.” You breathed in one final time.
Alien with a universal translator decides to test it on a cat.
Alien: Hello cat.
Cat: Hello strange-cat.
Alien: why do you call me strange-cat? I am an alien.
Cat: Everything is either cat, strange-cat, not-cat, or not-food.
Alien: I am not-cat.
Cat: Not-cat is food!
Alien: NO! I am Not-food!
Cat: You bigger than me, but you is not trying to eat me. You is very strange not-food. You say you is not-food, then you is not-food. You sure you not strange-cat? You act like strange-cat.
Alien: Nevermind. Can I ask you a question about your owner?
Cat: don't know this word.
Alien: The strange-cat you live with.
Cat: Yes, that is my strange-cat. I take care of them. We play. We sleep. They groom me and make me happy. They can do many things. They are a clever strange-cat. But they dont know how to hunt. Poor strange-cat starve without hunting. So I hunt them food. I bring them food. They share food. They are a good strange-cat, even if they don't know how to hunt.
Alien: Is that why you bring mice and birds to them?
Cat: I see not-cat. I hunt not-cat. I have food for me and my strange-cat.
Alien: But you don't need to do that.
Cat: I do. Me and Strange-cat would starve if I didnt hunt.
Alien: No, look, when your strange-cat takes away your not-cat, and they give food later, dont you ever see that it doesnt look, or smell like the thing you caught?
Cat: My strange-cat is clever. Even if they don't know how to hunt. They take the not-cat and make food.
Alien: Dont you ever notice that you always get the same amount of food even though it's been days, or weeks, since you last caught a little rat, or tiny bird?
Cat: You say many strange words Not-Food. I hunt not-cat. I bring hunt to my strange-cat to show them how to hunt. They take my hunt and they don't hunt, because they are strange-cat. But they make food, because they are clever strange-cat.
Alien: Your strange-cat is called a human. They are powerful predators. They can survive many dangerous things. They are perfectly capable of looking after themselves. They are the ones who look after you! They get the food, not you!
Cat: You are very silly Not-Food. If this is true, why do I need to hunt for them?
*Cat leaves because it is time to go eat with their Strange-cat*
You can make a killing as a villain these days (wanda X villian!r)
Note: Reader can phase, has fire powers, is immortal, and has warlock magic. Some details were borrowed from Magnus Bane (Shadowhunters), reader also speaks Spanish
Tw// Alcohol, Arson, Guns
Chaos. That's what they called you. A mysterious figure that reined destruction, evil, and misbehavior. It hadn't always been like that though. The Avengers had been good to you, they claimed to trust you, said you were one of them. A Hero. You weren't. No one could convince you otherwise. Not even Wanda. Love her as you might, she was wrong about you.
That day, the day everything changed, had been like any other. You woke up before Wanda and headed down for breakfast. You'd accidentally forgotten to glamour your golden green cats eyes, your warlock mark, the day before.
"I don't know, Steve. I think she might not be one of us." Tony's voice echoed in the hall. You froze, listening,
"I'm not disagreeing with you, but she hasn't done anything. We can't put her in a cell for no reason. Monster or not, it's immoral." Their words, Steve and Tony's, stabbed into your gut like a knife. A pain that was all too familiar.
"She's not human. Putting a person in a cell without a crime might be immoral, but caging monsters is our duty." It was Natasha. That surprised you. You'd thought you were friends.
You turned on your heel and left and Bruce and Tony began arguing about how to contain you. That pain had turned to anger and that anger had turned you into Chaos.
____
Fire shot from your finger tips as you walked through the wall of the bank. Your boys, old friends of yours from the streets, we're already in, their guns drawn. No bodies lay on the ground. Not yet. They killed only on your command.
"Hello everybody." The boys smiled at you. You allowed the fire to go out, but it left a hole where you had come in, for the boys to escape of course. You walked up to the lady at the front desk.
"Pardon me, Ma'am, have you called the police yet?" She backed away from you, terror in your eyes. You chuckled softly,
"Don't worry. It's okay if you have. Good actually. All I ask is that you answer my question." She nodded. You turned away from her, satisfied.
"Good. Now we wait."
You had no goal in mind. You would kill the cops, or at least seriously hurt of them, then burn the building to the ground. Probably swiping a few thousand dollars as you did so. Chaos. You would cause chaos.
Instead of the police though, you were greeting with the familiar whirring of an Iron Man suit. You rolled your eyes.
"Boys." You nodded towards the whole in the wall, the edges still black with fire. They didn't hesitate to run through it, heading towards the building you were all living in. The door flew open and Tony stood there, mask up. You removed the glamour from your eyes and glared at him.
"Mr. Stark, how nice of you to join us. We were hoping you were the cops. Pigs are fun to slaughter."
"Y/n. Stop this." You laughed,
"I can't. You were there in the kitchen. I'm not one of you, not human. I'm a monster and this," you gestured around you, flames catching everything they could reach, "is my nature."
He shot a blast at your chest, but you phased and it flew through you, hitting the wall and starting a small fire. You smirked at him,
"Guess I'm not the only pyromaniac, huh Stark." But when you turned to find him, he was gone. You shrugged.
"Stupid Avengers, always ruining my fun," you muttered under your breath. The fire was spreading quickly now, consuming the floor and walls at a rapid pace. The pedestrians looked scared, unsure of what to do.
"Run, unless you want to burn to death." No one moved. "FOR GODS SAKE MORTALS, RUN." and they did. You laughed and you watched a mans sleeve catch fire. He blew on it as he ran but the flame only grew. A red tendril of magic put it out before it could claim the mans full arm. You looked up. Wanda. She landed in front of you and on instinct you put out the ring of fire surrounding the two of you. You leaned against a pillar and looked around her.
"Y/n?" Her voice was pleading. It took everything in you not to look at her.
"Y/n, please. Can we just talk?" You let yourself look at her.
"Wanda," you greeted flatly.
"Y/n," she exhaled and you couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth.
"Y/n, stop this. Please stop this. You're not...you don't have to do this."
"No," you responded flatly, "this is what monsters do."
"You're not a monster. Tell me who is making you do this, I'll stop them. Come home, y/n. Come back to me." You laughed then, a manic laugh, exempt of all humor,
"You don't get it Wanda. I'm not a damsel in distress. No one's doing this too me. I'm not your girlfriend or a frightened princess. I'm not a little bird who needs your help to fly. I'm the bad guy."
"Y/n, please-
"NO! It's magic to watch a planet shrivel up and die. It's thrilling to be the villain, Ha that rhymed, I destroy their homes and then I watch them cry."
"This isn't you," Wanda was trying to reach out with her powers, talk in your head as well as out loud, you could feel her scrambling to reach you, "Y/n, I love you."
You clenched your jaw, "You can't love me. Look around, Wanda. This is what I do. This is what I like to do."
"If you wont come with me...take me with you." She dropped to her knees in the center of the room. That stopped you. You approached her, aware your face was softening. You tucked a finger under her chin and brought her face to yours. Your lips brushed hers as you spoke.
"You know you can't come with me, Princess. You're not evil." She looked up at you, face set.
"It doesn't matter. I want to be with you. I love you." You bit your lip, tracing her jawline.
"And I love you, but you're...Wanda, you're gentle, kind and even more, you don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be scorned by society, so far from human that not even you can recognize yourself."
"I. Don't. Care." She said again, with all the confidence of a bratty sub. You couldn't help but smirk.
"God, don't ever change, Cara Mia." You kissed her forehead, then phased through the floor, vanishing to all the eyes in the room.
“He was the most unintelligent, dull-witted, half brained, dim witted, dull, simple minded, slow, idiotic, doltish, foolish, think headed, ignorant...”
The proposal every 12yr old boy would be jealous of
Natasha hadn't had a normal childhood, really she hadn't had much of a childhood at all. That's why when you asked her to play the new Xbox with you and revealed she'd never played a video game before, you weren't entirely surprised.
"There's a first time for everything," you had smiled up at her. She'd been reluctant at first, but eventually found herself entranced in the game. You helped her learn the controller, which she picked up fairly easily, and then taught her the basics.
Months had passed since then. You and Natasha had just defeated the wither boss. It had nearly destroyed your base and the two of you were working to repair it.
Natasha made a high pitched noise and her arms tensed. You glance over at her, but she was still focused on the game,
"Shit. Creeper." You laughed aloud and she shot you a glare,
"What?" You shoot your head,
"You're just cute, that's all." She rolled her eyes,
"I could kill you, you know." You scrunched your nose at her,
"You wouldn't dare." She smiled, knowing you were right. Once she'd accidentally hit you in the game and she spent hours apologizing. She kissed your cheek and paused her side of the screen.
"Bathroom," she confirmed at your confused look. She got up and walked away. This was your chance. You quickly arranged the nether blocks into the words you couldn't bring yourself to say out loud, lit them on fire, then you climed to the top of your tallest building and waited. Natasha came back, and smiling, she handed you a grape soda.
"Come up here," you said, once she had resumed her game.
"Why?"
"Just do it, Tash." You could almost hear her eye roll,
"Fine. Is there a ladder?" You directed her to the one you'd placed going up the side of pixilated cobblestone building. You meant to push her to the side. It was only a two block top though and you ended up pushing her off.
"Shit! Y/n, I had my enchanted pickaxe!" You just looked at her.
"Why'd you kill me?" You pursed your lips. This was not going how you had planned. You hoped it would be romantic, as thins game had become your thing, something you awlays did together whenever life got to be too much.
"Did you see the nether blocks?" She rolled her eyes,
"Yeah, but that still doesn't explain-"
"Baby," you said, your voice pleading for her to figure it out. Waiting for an answer was killing you, "What did it say?"I had my best sword on me too, plus I was almost at 30! I was going to enchant my-"
"What did it say?" She rolled her eyes again, you swore one day they would get stuck like that.
"It said 'marry me?' now, explain why you killed me." You shut your eyes and cleanched your jaw.
"Natasha," you breathed, exasperated. She gasped, realizing. Her mouth dropped open,
"Are you serious?" Her voice was softer now, the edge completely gone.
"As a heart attack." You pulled a ring box out of your coat and handed it to her. She looked down at the black velvety box, then back at you, a gentle smile on her face, tears brimming in her brilliant green eyes.
TW// Abuse, trauma, injury, memory wiping?, basically just a bucky barnes hydra type situation
Navigation
The lock on the door made a noise and you jumped to attention. Eyes forward, boring into the concrete wall, back straight, arms at your sides. Normally you would've been dressed by now but you had been injured on your last mission and it was slightly more difficult to move.
He came into the room. The whip hung off his belt like it wasn't even worth a glance. You would've loved to study it. To figure out how a little rope hurt that much but you couldn't afford to look away from the wall.
"Good Morning, Child."
"Good Morning, Sir." You replied quietly, but without question. You repeated your ground rules for survival in your head.
Only speak when spoken to.
Do what your told when your told to do it.
No questions or arguments.
Always address Him as Sir.
Don't fail.
Never show weakness, no matter how much it hurts
You weren't the best at the last one. He tucked a finger under your chin. You stayed silent and kept your eyes on the wall in front of you.
"I have a mission for you." He handed you a file. You took it and paused in the air, waiting for further instructions.
"You may read it later." You held it at your side and forced yourself to look past his bald head and greasy mustache. You ignored the scent of cigarettes and beer that followed him everywhere. You didn't want to look at him. Couldn't bear to look into the face of a father who was supposed to love you. Somehow you'd ruined even that. He turned away from you.
"Oh yes, one more thing. This mission is your last change. Defect again and we wipe you."
"Yes Sir." You cursed yourself. Your voice had wavered. He was back in your face in seconds.
"Does that scare you?" He sneered, "You're a spoiled little brat, you know that? You should thank me for letting you live." You continued to stare straight ahead, waiting for him to get bored with his torment. He smacked you across the face with no warning. You scramble backwards into the wall.
"Get. Up." He demanded. You were on your feet in seconds. He slammed you into the wall, his huge hand dug into your jaw. It would definitely bruise.
"I said, You should thank me."
"T-thank you," you managed to say. He grip tightened,
"Thank you what?"
"Th- Thank you si-"
"Look at me!" He demanded, pulling your face towards him. You made eye contact for the smallest second,
"Thank you, Sir." He let go and your feet his the ground. You gained your balance quickly and once again stared straight ahead. He stalked towards the door.
"You have thirty minutes to prepare." He sauntered away. As soon as the lock clicked behind him, you leaned back against the wall, sighing. You rubbed your eye where he'd hit you. You cursed yourself, another shiner, great.
You grabbed your black leather fight suit from the closet and flipped open the file, reading as you changes. You saw a picture in the file. A redheaded lady, probably in her early 20s, and a name stamped above it 'Наталья Романова' or in English, 'Natasha Romanoff'.
The building shuddered and the lock on your door made a noise. You quickly shut the file and pulled a black t-shirt over your head. Hoping it was just a 10 minute warning and you hadn't lost track of time. You moved quickly to attention.
Instead of your muscular father, cigar between his teeth, whip in his belt, there was a younger man. Probably in his late 20s, early 30s, he had blonde hair slicked back in that annoying douche bag way and a white star brazened on his chest.
"At ease." He commanded when he saw you. You relaxed on instinct and looked to him for instructions. He stepped forward and held out his hand. You flinched, then cursed yourself for showing weakness.
"Is He with you?" You whispered, hoping the answer was no so you could avoid another beating, but risking a worse one if it was a yes.
"Who?" The strange man asked. You bit your lip,
"You know, Him." The guy shook his head.
"I don't know who your talking about kid. Unless you mean Johann Shmidt." You nodded vigorously,
"He's not with you?" The man shook his head. You quickly regained your composure in case this was a trap.
"No. Are you with him?"
"With him, Sir?"
"Do you work for him?" You looked at the man, confused,
"I do what he tells me." The man nodded,
"Not by choice though?" The man asked. You found a spot on the wall and stared at it silently.
"Tony," the man said, hand to his ear, "I think she's a hostage...No...Fine, send Natasha...Let me know if...Okay." He removed his hand from his ear. You watched him look at you from the corner of your eye. He turned when the now unlocked door opened, shield raised. Four or Five armed guards walked into the room. He threw his shield at them, fighting them. You turned, forgetting yourself for a moment. He was fighting the guards. Who did he work for? Who's side was he on? You took a deep breath. If this was a test, you'd already failed so fuck it. You joined the fight. releasing a noxious gas from your hands. The black tendrils of smoke surrounded the guards feet and made their way up there faces. A single breath and all their senses went numb. The man had no trouble defeating them after that.
When they were all down he turned to you and nodded. Both of you prepared as the door opened again. There, standing in front of you was the girl from the file. You moved to attention on reflex. She seemed to have a silent conversation with Steve before approaching you. She held out a hand and you flinched back. She pulled it back.
"Hi, I'm Natasha."
"Hello Natasha," you said, trying to keep your voice flat but unable to hide the fear and confusion.
"Can you tell me your name?" You shook your head,
"That's against orders."
"Who's orders?" She asked firm, but kind.
"His."
"His as in Johann Shmidt?"
"Yes ma'am." You responded curtly, hoping she wasn't going to punish you for forgetting the formalities earlier in the conversation.
"My friend Steve and I don't work for him. We are a team called The Avengers. We fight people like Johann Shmidt." You looked at her, concerned.
"You can't fight Him. No one can fight Him." She nodded patiently, then turned to Steve.
"She's not lying. Lets get her to the jet. We can figure the rest out later."
She gave you a soft smile and slowly reached a hand towards you. You tried not to flinch back as you watched it approach.
"Would you like to come with us?" You weren't sure why you couldn't say to her, but you found your self nodding.
"Yes ma'am." She took your hand and lead you from the room. You could see the man, Steve, behind you, watching your six just in case.
____
The first thing that struck you about the jet was the smell. Antiseptic, maybe. Bleach? Either way, it smelled clean. Cleaner than anything you'd ever experienced before. It was shiny too. The walls were some type of metal, they seemed to almost shimmer. The jet itself was fairly organized. You recognized an emergency medical station in the corner. It also seemed to have strap in seats lining the wall. Natasha lead you to the furthest one. She dropped your hand and turned.
You moved to attention, waiting for further instructions. She turned back around.
"Hey, how about you sit?" You dropped into the seat immediately after her instruction. She gave you a smile.
"Good. I'm going to go round up the rest of the team. You stay here, okay?" You nodded curtly,
"Yes Ma'am." The part of you that was trained to comply and the part of you that was terrified were clashing. They were brandishing weapons and charging into war in your head. Fear. That's really all it was. All anything you did ever was. Fear. Fear of the punishments, fear of your father, fear that they would wipe you, fear that these new people were with Him, fear that they would hurt you even worse. But a tiny part of you had lit for the first time since you were a child. Hope. So there you were, waiting for the avengers to take you to their headquarters.
Suddenly people flooded into the jet. No one even looked at you twice until Natasha and Steve filed in at the back. You remained seated, as ordered, and stared at the wall ahead. You weren't sure of the hierarchy of the team so you continued to follow Natasha's orders.
"Who's the kid?" You heard a man ask. You didn't look at him of course, but you began analyzing him. Your first thought: he has issues with his parents, most likely his father.
"We don't know her name. She was a hostage, she has powers." The man studied you,
"What's your name?" You continued to look ahead,
"That is against orders, Sir." He shook his head,
"You don't need to follow orders you know, it's not like someone's going to punish you." You flinched. Natasha stood.
"Stark, shut up." She came and sat next to you.
"You are safe with us. No one is going to give you orders. You may tell us your name if you would like, or not. It is completely up to you, but if you gave us something to call you, it would make our lives a lot easier." You took a deep breath.
"The guards called my Agent 4, ma'am." Your voice was quiet, but not inaudible. Natasha nodded.
"Do you mind if we just call you Four?"
"No ma'am." She gave you another smile, then turned to the team,
"Guys, this is Agent Four. We will call her Four until she decides to tell us her name."
"Hi, I'm Clint Barton." The man with the bow stepped forward. Natasha's hand shot out to stop him from approaching you. He sat back down, "Nice to meet you."
"You as well, Sir."
"You can just call me Clint, no need for formalities." You nodded,
"My apologies, Mr. Barton." He shrugged, "Better than sir...Anyways, this is the team. Tony Stark," he pointed to Daddy issues. You nodded a greeting.
"Steve Rogers." You nodded to the man wearing the flag suit.
"Bruce Banner," the shy looking man with glasses gave you an anxious smile. You simply nodded at him. You began analyzing each of the team members.
You already knew Mr. Stark had parental Issues, but while listening to their conversation you realized he was also a narcissist and desperate for love and attention. You noticed Natasha was like you in that she was trained. She sat straighter than everyone else and observed them as you did. You watched her read them like a book. Mr. Barton also seemed to observe everyone around him, but not in a spy-ish way. He was like a bird. He even seemed inclined towards climbing into the vents. Mr. Rogers seemed hurt, like he was missing something or someone, but trying to be strong. He seemed to be the official leader of the team and believed he was in control. Really, it seemed they were more of a team than they realized. Everyone apart from Banner, who stood back and waited for his turn.
"Four," You turned to Natasha, her face was impassive but her voice was caring, "we're almost at the compound. It's a large tower. We'll take the elevator to the eleventh floor, where Bruce will give you a quick medical scan to make sure you aren't seriously injured, I'll give you a tour of the main floors, then you will be given a bedroom." You nodded, eternally grateful for the heads up.
When you got the compound they wanted to do exactly that. You followed Bruce to the lab, but when he realized how uncomfortable you were with the checkup he simply asked you if you were in any pain. When you said no, he let you leave without scanning you.
Natasha met you outside the room and gave you a quick tour. The building was more open than you had expected. No dark corridors or cells to be found. It wasn't lacking privacy though. Each door that wasn't labeled was a bedroom and Friday, the AI system, would guide you wherever you needed to go. You mapped out the building in your head easily. Noting all the exists and the nearest places to find weapons if needed. Finally, Natasha brought you to your room.
You had to stop yourself from gasping. There was a large queen bed in the center of the room, accompanied by a night stand on either side. The walls were a soft, homey grey and the floor was a soft white carpet. There was a connected bathroom with a shower as well. It was more than you were used to.
"Okay," Natasha said with a smile, "I'll let you settle in. Will 10 minutes suffice?" You nodded,
"Yes ma'am." She gave you a soft smile,
"You can just call me Natasha if you would like. I'm going to send Starks assistant to get some clothes for you. Do you have any preferences?" You shook your head,
"No ma- No."
"Okay, i'll be back in about 10min and i'll walk you to dinner, okay?" You gave her a curt nod. When she left the room, closing the door behind her, you began circling the room. There appeared to be no cameras, which you were grateful for. When you tried the door, it opened. You weren't sure how to react to that. You could leave if you wanted. Not that you would since Natasha said she would be back for you in 10 minutes. Still, something about having the ability to leave brought you comfort.
You explored the rest of the room. There was a large closet filled with an assortment of clothes, hand me downs from the team probably. You eyed a large hoodie longingly. You hadn't worn anything that wasn't tight and uncomfortable in years. You didn't dare change though.
You peeked in the bathroom. The walls were an off white and there was a large mirror above the sink. You looked at your reflection. There was a purpleish ring forming around one of your eyes. The other eye was adorned with a dark back, evidence of many sleepless nights. A smear of dirt contoured your left cheek and a slight spatter of blood added to your freckles. You were really a nightmare to look at if you did say so yourself. No wonder they guessed you were a hostage.
You jumped at the slight knock on the bathroom door.
"Sorry," the new woman smiled in the doorway, obviously unsure of her next move. You cocked your head at her, curious. Her orangeish brown hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders and she spoke with the slightest accent, "the door was open, so I just...sorry."
"My apologies, Ma'am. I wasn't aware that the door was supposed to remain shut." You knew Natasha had said that the people here were your equals, that you didn't have to call them sir or ma'am and that they wouldn't give you orders, but you weren't sure how else to interact with people. It seemed wrong.
"No, no. You don't have to close your door, it's my fault really, I got curious." She gave a smile,
"You know, you don't look at bad as you think. Here, let me help." She flicked her wrist and a towel wet itself in the sink, then flew to her hand. She reached out to touch you, but you flinched back. She dropped her hand.
"Oh, um sorry. Here." She handed you the washcloth. You bit your lip, not sure how to react.
"I'm just gonna go." She started to leave, then turned back.
"Oh, I'm Wanda by the way. It's nice to meet you." You jumped, looking at her panicked.
"Okay, well see you around."
You looked down at the rag for a moment before bringing it to your face and wiping away some of the grime. You would need to check with Natasha about the shower restrictions. Once satisfied with the the dent you'd made in the grime on your face and arms, you walked back into the room, stopping at the closet again, considering the clothes. There was a soft knock on the door and Natasha sauntered back in.
"Hey," she greeted softly, "ready for dinner?" You turned away from the closet to look at her. She gave you a smile,
"Would you like to change first?" You watched her, not sure if it was a trap.
"Okay, you change. I'm going to stand outside your door. You come out when you're finished. Does that sound okay?" You nodded,
"Thank you...Natasha." You said quietly, not even sure if she heard you as she walked back out of the room and shut the door quietly.
She had heard you though and her heart leaped. Progress. You trusted her. She wanted more than anything she'd ever wanted before to keep you safe, not only that but to make you feel safe, to make you back into a person again because she had a hunch you were quite an amazing one.
TW// Kidnapping, stalking, slightly graphic, mentions of noncon and dubcon (No smut but a lot of spice and also some nudity and events leading up to and following smut), gaslighting, punishment (let me know if I missed anything)
____
You smiled at the locksmith gratefully. You hadn't slept for almost three nights in fear of the stranger coming in again. She tightened the last screw and turned to you.
"Can I use your bathroom?"
"Sure, first door on the left."
...
It had all started about 2 months ago with a letter. First of all, snail mail, no one used that anymore, and a letter confessing undying love and devotion to you...you'd assumed it was a joke, brushing it off and moving on. Throughout the rest of the week though, you began to find pictures of yourself left about. Pictures you hadn't even known were being taken.
You called the police of course, but they brushed it off, saying it was a harmless prank. You wanted to believe them, you really did, but as the letters got more frequent and the writer more possessive, you couldn't help but be afraid.
One night, a month after the first letter, you were startled awake around 3 am. The door to your apartment was wide open. You'd called the police but after a quick scan of your apartment and building, they said you must have just forgotten to close it. Then, three days ago, you'd come home to find your window wide open, the lock snapped.
The locksmith came out of the bathroom with a smile,
"Thanks. That should be perfectly secure for you now." You returned her smile,
"Of course. Thank you so much for doing this. I really appreciate it."
"No problem," the redheaded woman walked out of your apartment, shooting you one last dazzling smile before closing the door.
You collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Three days of not sleeping plus the added stress of having a stalker had been weighing on you more than you knew.
____
You opened your eyes slowly, leaning into the warmth of the hand on your face. You pulled away quickly once you realized what was happening, your eyes shooting open. You tried to bat the hand away, get the intruder off you, but your hands were chained to the headboard, the cuffs biting into your wrist.
"What are you-" The hand was suddenly clamped over your mouth.
"Quiet, Love. Just give me a minute." The voice sounded familiar and as the face moved closer to yours, you recognized it.
"Y- you're the locksmith." She raised an eyebrow at,
"I am many things, but that's not for you to worry about." She took a rag and moved it up to your face all too gently. You tried to suck in air, struggle against her grip, anything to get away from the suffocating rag and its overwhelming scent.
When she pulled it away, your eyelids felt heavy. Your body seemed to be made of lead. You couldn't pry yourself off the bed, even if you'd wanted to.
"Am I dying?" You whispered. The woman turned to look at you, her expression surprisingly soft. You felt wet tears trail down the side of your face,
"I don't want to die," you managed to croak before your vision went black. The last thing you heard as your world faded away was her,
"Don't worry, I won't let you."
____
When you opened your eyes, you were somewhere you didn't recognize. The walls were a comforting grey, a painting by your favorite artist hung on the wall, as well as a tapestry of your favorite constellation over the large bed. You stood up to try to explore the room but only got so far before a sharp bite in your ankle stopped you. A cuff was wrapped around you, a chain welded to the cuff. You followed it with your eyes, finding the end attached to a ring in the floor.
You walked the just over half-circle of room you had to walk, exploring as much as you could, hoping to find a way out. You were inspecting the windows when the door opened.
"Isn't the view great?" You jumped and turned to face the redheaded intruder from the night before. Suddenly you were very aware of how underdressed you were in only an oversized shirt. You were fairly certain you hadn't been wearing that the night before. You looked between the windows and your captor frantically.
"Oh, don't bother with those. They're a mirror on the outside and they don't open. Plus if you tried to leave, I'd have to punish you and it's your first day here. I'd like to make a good impression."
"You call kidnapping me and chaining me to a bed a good impression." She shrugged,
"You'll come to understand in time. I had to get you away from the world, the bad people, you're mine, Y/n. It's my job to keep you safe."
"Safe? From who, kidnappers? stalkers?" You spat back. The woman raised an eyebrow at you,
"You have to the count of ten to take that back." She glared at you and you glared right back. Her face was hard when she reached 5. It terrified you. Before you could take another breath she had dragged you into the bathroom. She held your head over the sink. The ankle cuff bit into your legs, you were almost sure it was drawing blood. With each number, she brought your face closer to the water. When she reached 8, you crumbled.
"Okay, okay. You win. I'm sorry. I take it back." She let go of the back of your neck and walked out of the bathroom. You followed her silently, trying to hide your terror at what she had almost done.
You stared at the space in front of your feet, hoping you wouldn't anger her again. You weren't sure where the innate urge to please her came from but there it was and it was almost... intoxicating. She tucked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at her.
"Are you going to behave now?" You started to nod,
"Use your words, doll."
"Y-" you choked on the word, then took a breath, "yes." A smile spread slowly across her face.
"Good girl." She spent the next hour or so going over 'the rules'. There were a lot and you weren't willing to find out what happened if you broke them. You tried your best to remember them all, but you were sure you wouldn't. You hoped that if you just did what she told you, you'd fair just fine.
You did just that. For a week you obeyed every order she gave you, hoping that maybe you could build her trust and she would unchain you. You sat on the edge of the bed, twiddling your thumbs. No one had warned you how boring being kidnapped could be. You were almost relieved when Natasha opened your door.
"Hey doll, how was your day?" You shrugged,
"Fine. Thanks for asking." She sat on the bed next to you.
"Something's wrong." You whipped your head towards her,
"D-did I-?" She cut you off,
"It's been a week. You were supposed to be acclimated by now." You saw the anger beginning to rise in her cheeks.
"No, no. I um...I like it here." She looked at you with those piercing green eyes, "Or at least, I want to like it here. I'm trying." She nodded, but her eyes remained narrowed. She shook her head slightly, then stood and walked out without another word. You sighed and fell back on the bed. A pang of guilt washed over you. For some reason disappointing her felt...wrong. You stood up and did something you'd never dared to do.
"Natasha?" you asked tentatively. You didn't hear footsteps approach but the door opened. She came in and shut the door, then leaned back against it.
"Yes?"
"I...uh...I told you how my day was...would you, I mean, how was yours?" For a single terrible moment she stared at you, face blank, then slowly, she began to laugh. It was like music to your ears, even though you couldn't discern the tone or the reason.
"You're asking about my day?" You bit your lip,
"I, uh, I guess I am?" Her laughter died down and her face softened,
"My day was quite boring." You nodded, hoping to urge her on. You wanted her to relax, to think you cared about her, maybe if she trusted you, let her guard down, you could run.
"...simple really. The captain's a bit old-fashioned. Sometimes I wonder if he still thinks Germany is the enemy." She chuckled once and you smiled at her.
"I was uh...can you switch the chain to my other ankle...I- this one hurts." She considered this for a moment then bent down. She examined your ankle and nodded. Nat left the room and returned with a key. She unlocked the cuff. Your heart raced. You kicked up with your foot, making contact with her warm flesh and you ran through the slightly ajar bedroom door. You glanced around, looking for a door out. There was a kitchen island with a bowl of fruit, behind it a line of perfect white cabinets. You looked as swiftly as you could, skipping over the stainless steel fridge, the grey couch, and the large TV. Then you saw it. A screen door. You ran to it and pulled on the handle. You heard Natasha moving behind you and stopped fiddling with the lock, and instead, run straight through the screen. The grass was soft underneath your fast feet. YOu glanced behind you and saw Natasha. You ran as fast as your feet would carry you but came to a stop abruptly. A tall brick wall rose in front of you. The top was tall enough that you could just barely graise it if you jumped and above that was a wire fence topped with barbed wire like a prison yard. Fear overwhelmed you, and you turned. Your eyes darted back and forth like a cornered animal. You met Natasha's eyes. She looked smug, relaxed. Her back was against the now open door, her stance casual but superior. You back up until your back hit the wall. The warm brick did nothing to help you. Tears filled your eyes as she approached you.
"Please," you said through your tears, "no, please, please," you got louder as she reached you until you were yelling, begging for her not to take you back in, not to punish you. "Please, please, I want to go home, please." She reached towards your face and gently wiped away your tears.
"You are home."
She brushed hair away from your face gently, her touch soft as she pet your head. And then her fingers seized. She gripped a chunk of your hair, making you gasp, and pulled you with her, her smirk replaced with an inhuman expression, hard and unreadable. She dragged you forward, back through the house and into the small room. She threw you back onto the bed and straddled your waist. You struggled but it was impossible to move under her strong frame.
"Nat, please-"
"Quiet," she ordered. Her clipped tone had your mouth snapping short, seeming of its own volition. Your struggling ceased. The fear of your coming punishment weighed down on you and made you feel as if each of your limbs weighed a million pounds. You closed you eyes as Natasha began to strip you.
"Look at me." You kept your eyes sealed shut. "I said," she growled, "Look at me."
----
When Natasha finally left, your body hurt in every way possible. You couldn't do anything but lay on the bed in the pool of sex and sweat. The exhaustion seemed to have seeped into you bones and you wanted nothing more than to close your eyes, but the door opened again. You knew it was Natasha even though didn't have the enegery to lift your head. It was always Natasha. Her skilled fingers quickly undid the ropes around you ankles and then moved to your wrists. She look down at you and a soft smile spread across her face. She stroked your face lightly and a whimper escaped your throat. Her touches had been so rough just moments before that the softness of her now made you ache. When she finished with your ties, she sat on the edge of the bed.
"Dekta," she said, her voice quiet, "you gotta get up, sweetheart." You wanted to explain to her that you were too tired, too heavy to move, but all that came out was a small croak, "can't". Strong arms wrapped around you, lifting your naked body out of the bed and soon you were huddled against Natasha's chest. You inhaled her aroma of whiskey and nighttime and let it sweep you into a sense of calm and security.
Warm water, Natasha, soap, hands in your hair, Natasha, clean clothes, waiting, Natasha, Natasha, Natasha; it was all a blur of events but it made you feel better and when you woke up wrapped in the arms of your kidnapper, you curled into her chest without thinking.
You wanted to hate her. Logically, you should hate her. She tricked you, stole you from your home, your friends, your family, and locked you in a room, chained you to the floor, and when you tried to escape, well her punishment was less than ideal, but something about her bright green eyes, her auburn hair, her soft touches and even her rough ones, the way she had cared for you after your punishment and every day since, she drew you in like a mouse to a trap...
Summary: When y/n ends up at the Avengers tower, she thinks everything will finally be okay. She’s free from Hydra for the first time since she was a child and ready to do some good, on top of that she was finally reunited with Wanda, the love of her life (or so she thought), what could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: self destructive activities, manipulation, mentions of sub/dom, mentions of fighting, breakups, nakedness, trauma, hydra stuff
You backed up against the wall. The feeling inside you was something you had felt before. Loneliness, but it was more than that. You felt completely alone in the world. Like no one was on your side and nothing would ever be okay. You put your hand on your heart to make sure it hadn't been ripped violently out of your chest. You stumbled back against the wall and when your back hit, you slid down. Realizing it was over with Natasha hit like a truck, but it was a different realization that had dragged you tot the ground. Wanda. Everything you'd had with her at Hydra, it had been forced. The fog in your mind had been their during your first kiss with her. It had been there through your entire relationship, forcing you to participate. She had used you like a puppet, forcing you to bend to her will and worst of all, she had ruined things with the one person you had every truly lo-
Wanda came around the corner.
"Hey y/n, are you-" You scrambled back against the wall and put up flimsy shield in your mind to keep her out.
"Woah, hey are you okay?" You looked around frantically, praying that anyone would pass. Luckily someone did. You jumped up and grabbed his arm. He looked at you, shocked.
"Just keep walking," you whispered and he did. When you reached the kitchen, he looked you up and down.
"Who are you escaping, Midgardian?" You shook your head and pulled your arm from his,
"It's nothing. I'm fine. Thanks for your help."
"You are very welcome. Protecting Midgardians is my duty."
"Thanks for the help, Thor." He nodded,
"Do you have a second name lady y/n? I've learned the on Midgard, when one does not have a title, those around them address them by their second name and you didn't mention one earlier." You smile faltered slightly,
"I don't believe I have one. I didn't exactly grow up in the best of circumstances." Thor just nodded, his smile never slipping.
He paused for a moment, seemingly having an idea, "Would you like to be escorted to your room, you seem to be in peril?"
"That's okay, I'm not in too much peril. I'll see you tomorrow, Thor."
You headed up to your room.
____
It seemed almost greyer in your room now, not that that was possible. The cloud of sadness around you was palpable. You sat back on your bed and began untying your shoes. suddenly the bathroom door flung open and a man stood their, completely naked. You cringed back and put a hand over your eyes.
"Um, hi"
"Hello, Midgardian."
"Not to be rude or anything, but why are you in my room?"
"this is the guest room, is it not?" You shook your head,
"Could you put on some pants, then we can have a proper conversation." You hear him move around a bit and eventually he spoke.
"You may uncover your eyes." You did so and felt a slight blush cover your cheeks. He raised an eyebrow at you,
"Like what you saw?" You couldn't help but to scoff,
"Uh, no. Why are you in my room?"
"As I asked before, isn't this the guest room?"
You shrugged,
"Um, I guess."
"Oh, I apologize for my rudeness, I am Loki, currently God of Mischief."
"Currently?" you asked, a bit confused,
"Yes, I am the Goddess of Mischief more and more lately." You nod,
"So you're Thor's sibling then?"
"ADOPTED sibling, but yes."
"Cool, I'm y/n. I think your room is the next one over." Loki nodded,
"I apologize for the intrusion." He looked you up and down,
"I'll see you soon, y/n."
____
You laid back on your bed, your mind racing.. 'I always kept my mind open to her because I trusted her, but now...she's almost as bad as they were. If Tasha hadn't walked in, would she have made me do more? Tasha. Does she hate me? Why wouldn't she listen? If I told her the truth, would she still blame me?'
Your door opened and Wanda walked in. You jumped up, flipping out a knife on instinct.
"G-get out. You're not welcome in here."
Wanda reached out to touch you, but you flinched back.
"Please, don't be scared of me. Look, I made a mistake. Let me make it up to you."
You shook your head, "You think you can make it up to me?" She was crying and it took effort to stop yourself from comforting her. The betrayal came swimming back though and that urge was replaced by anger.
"Our entire relationship, since we started, you've been making me...?"
"Not making you, I just put the thoughts there. I stopped making you when we were still at Hydra."
You held back the tears, but you couldn't make your expression go hard,
"I can't believe this. Everything we had was a disgusting lie? You used me, you manipulated me."
Wanda reached out for you again, "Please, Y/n-" but you weren't done. You had more to say, more to yell at her for.
"The first time we kissed, you promised you wouldn't hurt me. Promised me that I could trust you."
"Y/n, what you and I have, it is real. Please." There was no holding back the tears after that, so you just let them flow.
"You lied to me, Wanda. You were the only person in the world I trusted for a fucking decade and it was all a manipulation."
"No, please. I lo- I love you." You cut off the tear flow and hardened your expression,
"Just stay away from me." Wanda took a step closer and again you flinched back, but this time you backed over something. You fell back onto your hands, feeling something break under you, but Wanda was still moving towards you. You scuttled away from her with growing urgency. Apparently the commotion had alerted Natasha and suddenly she was standing between the two of you, her hand on her gun.
One look at your face and she knew something was off. Before you could stop her, Nat had her gun pointed towards Wanda as she stalked her back against the wall.
"What did you do to her?" Nat's voice was calm but you could almost smell the anger on her.
"Tasha, put that down!" Nat looked at you and in that second Wanda's hands started to glow red. You jumped between them, absorbing the energy from Wanda's blast. You didn't fly back like a normal non super human would've but you did have to take a few steps to keep from falling over. The burning though, was not something you powers could help you with.Natasha was watching you,
"What did she do to you?" You shook your head,
"It's not important."
"Y/n. Now."
"She used her powers to force me to kiss her in the hall so you would see and we would break up." You mumbled it, almost inaudibly, but Natasha was, well Natasha and once again her anger sparked at your words. You turned away from her.
"Look, Tasha, I know you felt really betrayed when you saw us, so if you still need time to...figure things out..." When you turned to look for her again, she was gone. In her place, a woman who looked a lot like Loki leaned against the wall, you remembered what she had told you about being gender-fluid.
"Sorry, I don't think that was meant for me."
"No, it's fine. If she doesn't want us, I guess it's not happening." Loki shrugged,
"So, that must have burned at least a little?" You shook your head,
"I'm fine." Loki scrunched up her face, making you laugh and conveniently change conversation topics.
"You're much prettier as a girl." Loki flipped her hair,
"I know." You laughed, but it wasn't real. Loki watched you, concerned,
"I must be on my way, shall I bring you takeout?" You nod and she swaggered out of your room.
____
For three days, you remained mostly in your room, partially because of the large and rather painful burn on your stomach, but mostly because of Wanda and Natasha. Loki would come in in both forms and bring you food, watch movies, and just generally annoy you. You were the only one who didn't see her as a villain and respected him for real and not just on Thors' request. Because of this, the two of you had become friends.
Loki walked in with a pizza and a DVD,
"I believe this is the one you requested." You smiled at him,
"Sit lets watch." About halfway through the movie, you turned to Loki,
"Why do you think it happened?"
"Well, the redheaded Midgardian was so focused on the blonde Midgardian, she neglected Ducky and he got angry." You shook your head,
"Not Pretty in Pink, although I agree with you. Why do you think Wanda did it?"
Loki said nothing, but purses his lips,
"Loki?"
"I don't know, maybe...never mind."
"Finish that thought" You narrowed your eyes at him and he rolled his in return,
"It's nothing." But at your look he realized you weren't giving up.
"Fine, but you're not going to like it..." when you didn't respond he continued, "sometimes, I manipulate people because otherwise they wouldn't notice me. Maybe she was just afraid you would say no..." suddenly his unusual vulnerability was replaced at once by his familiar haughtiness, "Of course, I wouldn't know. Midguardians are so stupid."
