Welcome to my little corner of the internet. I am a fanfic writer who loves to hyperfocus on sapphic couples. I write fics set primarily in the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU). My current unhealthy fixation is NATASHA ROMANOFF so you will find many (if not all) of my fics featuring her. The fanfics I post on my blog are for your enjoyment. Please do not repost my work in any way. While not all the fics I write contain adult content, most will. Because of this, I ask that minors do not interact with my blog.
Requests: Closed.
Masterlist
Natasha Romanoff
I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun ( ongoing series ) ( friends to enemies to ??? ) ( minors DNI )
No Use In You Trying, Baby ( oneshot with part two coming ) ( exes to ??? ) ( minors DNI )
Request if ur taking them: hella smutty enemies to lovers w nat and female reader… like dom nat is interrogating/torturing r w sex like not letting us come etc unless we give over the information
Interrogation. | N.R
Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Sex Machine, Sex as „Torture“, begging, restraints, edging, Clit play, multiple orgasm, overstimulation
Word Count: 2,7k
A/N: Uhm..MAYBE I got carried away..
The battle had been fierce, and the aftermath was a testament to the clash between the Avengers and you. Debris and rubble covered the once pristine SHIELD facility. The air was thick with dust and the smell of burnt metal. Amidst the chaos, you lay on the ground, breathing heavily, your eyes full of defiance and a hint of amusement.
Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, stood over you, her face a mask of determination. She knelt down and pinned your arms behind your back with practiced ease. You struggled, but Natasha’s grip was ironclad.
“It’s over.” Natasha said, her voice deep and firm. You smirked mockingly, your eyes meeting Natasha’s. “You seem pretty confident, Agent Romanoff.”
Natasha ignored the provocation and reached for the handcuffs on her belt. “I’ve had enough of your games. It’s time to put an end to this.”
As Natasha secured a cuff around your wrist, you laughed breathlessly. “Oh, careful, these are kind of my thing,” you said with a mischievous grin. Without hesitation, Natasha tightened her grip, “Come on! You don’t have to be so rough. We could have some fun instead.”
But she pressed your check into the dirt, her knee firmly in your back to prevent any movement. “Keep talking, and you’ll find out how rough I can be.“ Natasha hissed, her tone dripping with menace. “The fun is over. You’ve been causing trouble for too long.”
You writhed and twisted, trying to break free, but Natasha’s hold was unyielding. “You’re no fun..” you muttered, your voice muffled by the ground.
Natasha tightened the cuffs on your wrists. “And if you weren’t so insistent on being a villain, you might actually be worth my time.”
You tried to sit up, looking around as if searching for an escape route or an opportunity. “Don’t even think about it,” Natasha warned, increasing the pressure with her knee. You groaned but stopped struggling, though your eyes still roamed.
SHIELD agents were still securing the area, their movements quick and efficient. Natasha had to wait for the all-clear signal before she could take you to the waiting vehicle. The minutes dragged on, filled with the distant sounds of agents clearing debris and securing the area.
“You really won’t let up, will you?” you said, your tone a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration. “No.” Natasha replied curtly. You sighed dramatically but didn’t resist further. “You know, I was serious about the restraints.. Maybe one day you’ll take me up on that offer.”
Natasha didn’t respond, her eyes scanning the surroundings until she received a nod from a nearby agent. She finally relaxed, pulling you to your feet with a swift motion. Her grip remained firm as she led you to the waiting vehicle.
“Let’s go,” Natasha ordered, pushing you forward. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, your defiant gaze never wavering.
As you reached the vehicle, Natasha secured you inside before taking a seat herself. The doors closed with a heavy thud, sealing your fate. As the vehicle drove away, you couldn’t help but admire the vie, not of the receding landscape, but of the relentless agent who had finally captured you.
The ride in the vehicle was silent, your attempts at conversation met only with Natasha’s stony silence. Upon arrival at the SHIELD headquarters, you were escorted through a series of sterile corridors, your wrists still firmly bound. Eventually, you were deposited in an interrogation room, the door closing with a resounding click behind you.
Natasha stood outside the room, watching you through the one-way window. Director Fury approached, his expression as inscrutable as ever.
“Anyone getting her to talk?” Fury asked. Natasha shook her head. “Not yet. But I have an idea.” Fury raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“I want to try a different approach,” Natasha said, her eyes never leaving you. “Something that requires a bit more… hands-on work.”
Fury’s gaze followed hers, a knowing look crossing his face. “You think you can break her?” Natasha’s lips curled into a slight smile. “I know I can.”
Fury considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. Do what you have to. Just make sure we get the information we need.”
Natasha gave a curt nod and turned to a couple of nearby agents. “Bring her to Room B.”
The agents obeyed, entering the room to escort you to the new location. You, always quick to notice a change, looked curiously between the agents and Natasha. “Tired of the room already?”
Natasha didn’t respond, her expression remaining impassive as she followed the agents and you down another corridor. They stopped before a reinforced door, which opened to reveal a stark, dimly lit room. In the center of the room, chains hung from the ceiling.
Your eyes widened slightly as you saw the setup, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Oh, Natasha, you really know how to treat a girl.”
Natasha stepped forward, her gaze steady. “Keep talking and you will see where it takes you.“ You laughed, the sound echoing off the bare walls. “You almost had me fooled. I mean, you’ve got chains hanging from the ceiling. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to spoil me.”
The agents finished their task and stepped back. Now you hung from your wrists, your feet barely touching the ground. Natasha approached you, her expression cold and calculating.
“You like to talk,” Natasha said, her voice low and menacing. “But now you’re going to listen.” Your smile faded slightly as you saw the determination in Natasha’s eyes. “Are you going to torture me for information?”
Natasha leaned close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “Kind of.”
Natasha knew exactly how to handle this situation. She had done her homework and knew your psychological profile. Natasha’s plan was unorthodox, but she knew it would be effective.
With a swift motion, Natasha signaled to a control panel on the wall. A mechanical hum filled the room as a device descended from the ceiling, its purpose unmistakable. Your eyes widened in surprise and something else..anticipation.
“You know, if you didn’t insist on being a villain, you might actually enjoy this,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Your defiance wavered, replaced by a mix of excitement and apprehension. “You wouldn’t…”
Natasha’s grin returned. “Oh, but I would. You see, Y/n, everyone has a breaking point. And I’m going to find yours.”
The device was now perfectly positioned, and Natasha activated it. The gentle vibrations began, and your body tensed in the restraints. You tried to hide your reactions, but Natasha could see right through you.
“Let’s see how long you can maintain that attitude,” Natasha said, her voice a silky purr. “Tell me what I need to know.”
You bit your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Do you really think this will work? That I’ll just spill everything because of a little… pleasure?”
Natasha’s eyes darkened. “I think you’ll be surprised at how persuasive it can be.” The intensity of the device increased, and your breathing grew heavier. You tried to turn away, but the restraints held you firmly in place. Natasha watched you closely, knowing that your resolve would eventually crumble.
Minutes passed, and the room was filled with the sounds of your labored breaths and stifled moans. Natasha remained silent, her eyes never leaving your face. She knew exactly when your resistance began to waver.
“Ready to talk?” Natasha asked, her voice gentle but commanding. Your eyes met Natasha’s, filled with a mix of defiance and desperation. “I- I won’t… give in…”
Natasha leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear. “We’ll see about that.” The vibrations continued, pushing you closer to the edge. Natasha could see how close you were, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. Just as you were on the verge, Natasha deactivated the device, leaving you gasping for breath. FUCK, you thought. You glared at Natasha, your eyes burning with a mix of anger and desire. “You’re playing dirty.”
Natasha’s expression remained impassive. “All you have to do is talk, and this can be over.” You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “I’m not telling you anything.”
Natasha grinned. “Then we continue.”
She reactivated the device, and the cycle began anew. Natasha watched intently, noting every reaction, every tremble. She knew the female body well, knew how to read the signs of an approaching climax. Every time you got close, Natasha would stop, leaving you teetering on the edge.
“You’re… a real piece of work,” you panted, your body glistening with sweat. “Thank you,” Natasha replied coolly. “Now, tell me what I need to know.”
Your resolve weakened, your body betraying you. You wanted to resist, to keep your secrets, but Natasha’s relentless game wore you down. “Alright..” you gasped, desperation in your voice. “I’ll talk!“
Natasha is stepping closer to you. “Start talking.” You took a shaky breath, your body still trembling. “I… I was hired by HYDRA… to infiltrate SHIELD. They wanted… information on your operations… your weaknesses..“ Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable. “Who hired you? Names, Y/n.”
“Dr. Zola!” you admitted barely audibly. “He… he was the one who contacted me..“ Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Where can we find him?”
You hesitated, and Natasha reached for the control panel again. „No, wait! I’ll tell you! He’s… he’s in a hidden facility… in the Alps. I can give you the coordinates!”
Natasha nodded, satisfied. “Good.”
You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. You had managed to deceive Natasha and keep your secrets. But your victory was short-lived.
“Did you enjoy your break?” Natasha asked, her voice deceptively calm. Your smugness wavered. “What do you mean?”
Natasha walked towards you slowly, each step calculated. “Do you think I'm stupid? That I would let you off that easily?”
Your eyes widened. “What?”
Natasha grinned, a predatory look in her eyes. “Oh, this is going to be fun for me.” Natasha stepped closer to you, her voice now a seductive whisper. “You see, Y/n, I know exactly how your mind works. Now, you’re going to learn the true meaning of torture.”
The vibrations began again, this time more intense and relentless. Your body reacted immediately, and Natasha watched with a knowing smile.
“I see you’re already close,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with mocking sympathy. “But this time, I won’t stop. I’m going to push you past every limit you have.”
You gasped, your body tensing as the device did its work. Natasha leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “Tell me, Y/n. How does it feel to be outsmarted?”
Your breaths came in ragged bursts, your body on the brink. “When I get out of here-” Natasha’s smile widened. “Answers.Now.”
Your resolve shattered as you realized the futility of resistance. You spilled everything, your words a desperate rush. “Fuck! The facility is in the Carpathians, not the Alps. Zola… H-He is there, with a team! They’re developing a new Bio weapon!”
Natasha nodded, her eyes never leaving your face. “Good girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” However, she didn’t stop. Instead, she increased the intensity. Your eyes widened in shock. “I told the truth!”
Natasha’s expression was cold and unyielding. “This is for lying earlier. You need to learn that there are consequences.”
Your body convulsed as you were pushed past your limit, your pleas turning into incoherent screams. Natasha watched impassively, making sure you learned your lesson.
She placed her hand on your body, her fingers stroking and teasing expertly, amplifying the overstimulation. Her touch was precise, knowing exactly how to drive you over the edge repeatedly.
“Do you feel that, Y/n?” Natasha whispered seductively. “I can do this all night. You won’t find any relief until I’m satisfied.”
Your eyes begged for mercy, but Natasha’s resolve was ironclad. „God, this Face is so cute..“ She continued her relentless torture, pushing you to multiple, agonizingly intense orgasms. Each time you thought you couldn’t take any more, Natasha found a new way to amplify the pleasure, keeping you on the brink of madness.
“You belong to me now,” Natasha said, her voice a velvety purr. “Every time you lie to me, this is what you’ll get.”
Your body shook uncontrollably, your mind barely holding on. Natasha’s hand moved to your clit, her fingers circling with expert precision. The overstimulation was unbearable, driving you over the edge again and again.
“Please… no more…” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. Natasha’s smile was one of cold satisfaction. “Remember this feeling, Y/n. This is what happens when you cross me.”
Natasha leaned in one last time, her voice a deadly whisper. “Next time, think twice before you try to deceive me.”
“S-Should I apologize!? Is that what you want to h-hear?” you cried, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry, there y-you have it! Now turn it o-” You gasped, your words cut off by a shattering climax that coursed through you.
Natasha’s smile was triumphant, but she didn’t stop the machine. Instead, she leaned closer, her breath hot against your skin. “You’re so sweet.”
Your body writhed, your mind a haze of pleasure and pain. “N-Natasha!” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. “Please…”
Natasha stepped closer, her hands now working in tandem with the machine. Her fingers found your clit again. Your eyes widened, a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you. “No… no, please… I can’t take it…!“ you begged, your voice a hoarse whisper.
“Oh, yes, you can,” Natasha replied, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “And you will.” Natasha knew you weren’t in any real pain, just overwhelmed by pleasure. She knew your body so well, every sensitive spot mapped in her mind. She could sense your inner conflict, your head shaking in defiance while your body responded with undeniable arousal. Deep down, you agreed, unable to deny the raw pleasure coursing through your veins.
Your body arched, your mind a whirl of sensations. Natasha’s fingers and the relentless machine worked in harmony, driving you to heights of pleasure you hadn’t thought possible. Every touch, was designed to break you, to make you completely surrender.
“Say it again.” Natasha whispered, her breath hot against your ear. Your voice was a broken sob. “I’m sorry… Please… Please…” you repeated, your body trembling violently.
“Good girl,” Natasha cooed, her fingers never pausing. “But I want more. I want you to scream for me.” And you did. Your body writhed, every nerve on fire. You were sure you would die from the sheer intensity of the pleasure, your mind shattered, your will completely broken. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, her touch both torment and balm.
Her fingers moved with expert precision, finding the perfect spot that made you jerk violently in your restraints. “Ah, there it is,” Natasha purred, holding your hips steady as she intensified the stimulation. “I knew you had it in you.”
Your eyes rolled back, your body arching helplessly against the relentless pleasure. “FUCK… PLEASE… I’m begging you…!!”
“Beg all you want,” Natasha whispered, her voice deep and sensual. “I love hearing you beg. Where’s your attitude now, hm?” Natasha taunted, her fingers never slowing. “You were so defiant before. What happened?”
“I…I..” your voice was a breathless sob, your body trembling with the intensity of your orgasm.
Natasha’s fingers continued their merciless assault, finding every sensitive spot and exploiting it ruthlessly. Your body arched, your mind breaking under the sheer intensity of the pleasure. You were sure you would die from it, your will completely shattered under Natasha’s expert touch.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Natasha slowed the machine and her fingers, giving you a moment to catch your breath. She leaned close, her lips brushing your ear. “You did good,” she murmured. “But remember, there’s always more to tell, more to give.”
Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your body sagging in the restraints. In that moment, you knew you were utterly and completely at Natasha’s mercy. And there was nothing you could do about it.
Request if ur taking them: hella smutty enemies to lovers w nat and female reader… like dom nat is interrogating/torturing r w sex like not letting us come etc unless we give over the information
Interrogation. | N.R
Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Sex Machine, Sex as „Torture“, begging, restraints, edging, Clit play, multiple orgasm, overstimulation
Word Count: 2,7k
A/N: Uhm..MAYBE I got carried away..
The battle had been fierce, and the aftermath was a testament to the clash between the Avengers and you. Debris and rubble covered the once pristine SHIELD facility. The air was thick with dust and the smell of burnt metal. Amidst the chaos, you lay on the ground, breathing heavily, your eyes full of defiance and a hint of amusement.
Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, stood over you, her face a mask of determination. She knelt down and pinned your arms behind your back with practiced ease. You struggled, but Natasha’s grip was ironclad.
“It’s over.” Natasha said, her voice deep and firm. You smirked mockingly, your eyes meeting Natasha’s. “You seem pretty confident, Agent Romanoff.”
Natasha ignored the provocation and reached for the handcuffs on her belt. “I’ve had enough of your games. It’s time to put an end to this.”
As Natasha secured a cuff around your wrist, you laughed breathlessly. “Oh, careful, these are kind of my thing,” you said with a mischievous grin. Without hesitation, Natasha tightened her grip, “Come on! You don’t have to be so rough. We could have some fun instead.”
But she pressed your check into the dirt, her knee firmly in your back to prevent any movement. “Keep talking, and you’ll find out how rough I can be.“ Natasha hissed, her tone dripping with menace. “The fun is over. You’ve been causing trouble for too long.”
You writhed and twisted, trying to break free, but Natasha’s hold was unyielding. “You’re no fun..” you muttered, your voice muffled by the ground.
Natasha tightened the cuffs on your wrists. “And if you weren’t so insistent on being a villain, you might actually be worth my time.”
You tried to sit up, looking around as if searching for an escape route or an opportunity. “Don’t even think about it,” Natasha warned, increasing the pressure with her knee. You groaned but stopped struggling, though your eyes still roamed.
SHIELD agents were still securing the area, their movements quick and efficient. Natasha had to wait for the all-clear signal before she could take you to the waiting vehicle. The minutes dragged on, filled with the distant sounds of agents clearing debris and securing the area.
“You really won’t let up, will you?” you said, your tone a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration. “No.” Natasha replied curtly. You sighed dramatically but didn’t resist further. “You know, I was serious about the restraints.. Maybe one day you’ll take me up on that offer.”
Natasha didn’t respond, her eyes scanning the surroundings until she received a nod from a nearby agent. She finally relaxed, pulling you to your feet with a swift motion. Her grip remained firm as she led you to the waiting vehicle.
“Let’s go,” Natasha ordered, pushing you forward. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, your defiant gaze never wavering.
As you reached the vehicle, Natasha secured you inside before taking a seat herself. The doors closed with a heavy thud, sealing your fate. As the vehicle drove away, you couldn’t help but admire the vie, not of the receding landscape, but of the relentless agent who had finally captured you.
The ride in the vehicle was silent, your attempts at conversation met only with Natasha’s stony silence. Upon arrival at the SHIELD headquarters, you were escorted through a series of sterile corridors, your wrists still firmly bound. Eventually, you were deposited in an interrogation room, the door closing with a resounding click behind you.
Natasha stood outside the room, watching you through the one-way window. Director Fury approached, his expression as inscrutable as ever.
“Anyone getting her to talk?” Fury asked. Natasha shook her head. “Not yet. But I have an idea.” Fury raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“I want to try a different approach,” Natasha said, her eyes never leaving you. “Something that requires a bit more… hands-on work.”
Fury’s gaze followed hers, a knowing look crossing his face. “You think you can break her?” Natasha’s lips curled into a slight smile. “I know I can.”
Fury considered for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. Do what you have to. Just make sure we get the information we need.”
Natasha gave a curt nod and turned to a couple of nearby agents. “Bring her to Room B.”
The agents obeyed, entering the room to escort you to the new location. You, always quick to notice a change, looked curiously between the agents and Natasha. “Tired of the room already?”
Natasha didn’t respond, her expression remaining impassive as she followed the agents and you down another corridor. They stopped before a reinforced door, which opened to reveal a stark, dimly lit room. In the center of the room, chains hung from the ceiling.
Your eyes widened slightly as you saw the setup, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Oh, Natasha, you really know how to treat a girl.”
Natasha stepped forward, her gaze steady. “Keep talking and you will see where it takes you.“ You laughed, the sound echoing off the bare walls. “You almost had me fooled. I mean, you’ve got chains hanging from the ceiling. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to spoil me.”
The agents finished their task and stepped back. Now you hung from your wrists, your feet barely touching the ground. Natasha approached you, her expression cold and calculating.
“You like to talk,” Natasha said, her voice low and menacing. “But now you’re going to listen.” Your smile faded slightly as you saw the determination in Natasha’s eyes. “Are you going to torture me for information?”
Natasha leaned close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. “Kind of.”
Natasha knew exactly how to handle this situation. She had done her homework and knew your psychological profile. Natasha’s plan was unorthodox, but she knew it would be effective.
With a swift motion, Natasha signaled to a control panel on the wall. A mechanical hum filled the room as a device descended from the ceiling, its purpose unmistakable. Your eyes widened in surprise and something else..anticipation.
“You know, if you didn’t insist on being a villain, you might actually enjoy this,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Your defiance wavered, replaced by a mix of excitement and apprehension. “You wouldn’t…”
Natasha’s grin returned. “Oh, but I would. You see, Y/n, everyone has a breaking point. And I’m going to find yours.”
The device was now perfectly positioned, and Natasha activated it. The gentle vibrations began, and your body tensed in the restraints. You tried to hide your reactions, but Natasha could see right through you.
“Let’s see how long you can maintain that attitude,” Natasha said, her voice a silky purr. “Tell me what I need to know.”
You bit your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “Do you really think this will work? That I’ll just spill everything because of a little… pleasure?”
Natasha’s eyes darkened. “I think you’ll be surprised at how persuasive it can be.” The intensity of the device increased, and your breathing grew heavier. You tried to turn away, but the restraints held you firmly in place. Natasha watched you closely, knowing that your resolve would eventually crumble.
Minutes passed, and the room was filled with the sounds of your labored breaths and stifled moans. Natasha remained silent, her eyes never leaving your face. She knew exactly when your resistance began to waver.
“Ready to talk?” Natasha asked, her voice gentle but commanding. Your eyes met Natasha’s, filled with a mix of defiance and desperation. “I- I won’t… give in…”
Natasha leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear. “We’ll see about that.” The vibrations continued, pushing you closer to the edge. Natasha could see how close you were, your body trembling with the effort to hold back. Just as you were on the verge, Natasha deactivated the device, leaving you gasping for breath. FUCK, you thought. You glared at Natasha, your eyes burning with a mix of anger and desire. “You’re playing dirty.”
Natasha’s expression remained impassive. “All you have to do is talk, and this can be over.” You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “I’m not telling you anything.”
Natasha grinned. “Then we continue.”
She reactivated the device, and the cycle began anew. Natasha watched intently, noting every reaction, every tremble. She knew the female body well, knew how to read the signs of an approaching climax. Every time you got close, Natasha would stop, leaving you teetering on the edge.
“You’re… a real piece of work,” you panted, your body glistening with sweat. “Thank you,” Natasha replied coolly. “Now, tell me what I need to know.”
Your resolve weakened, your body betraying you. You wanted to resist, to keep your secrets, but Natasha’s relentless game wore you down. “Alright..” you gasped, desperation in your voice. “I’ll talk!“
Natasha is stepping closer to you. “Start talking.” You took a shaky breath, your body still trembling. “I… I was hired by HYDRA… to infiltrate SHIELD. They wanted… information on your operations… your weaknesses..“ Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable. “Who hired you? Names, Y/n.”
“Dr. Zola!” you admitted barely audibly. “He… he was the one who contacted me..“ Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Where can we find him?”
You hesitated, and Natasha reached for the control panel again. „No, wait! I’ll tell you! He’s… he’s in a hidden facility… in the Alps. I can give you the coordinates!”
Natasha nodded, satisfied. “Good.”
You couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. You had managed to deceive Natasha and keep your secrets. But your victory was short-lived.
“Did you enjoy your break?” Natasha asked, her voice deceptively calm. Your smugness wavered. “What do you mean?”
Natasha walked towards you slowly, each step calculated. “Do you think I'm stupid? That I would let you off that easily?”
Your eyes widened. “What?”
Natasha grinned, a predatory look in her eyes. “Oh, this is going to be fun for me.” Natasha stepped closer to you, her voice now a seductive whisper. “You see, Y/n, I know exactly how your mind works. Now, you’re going to learn the true meaning of torture.”
The vibrations began again, this time more intense and relentless. Your body reacted immediately, and Natasha watched with a knowing smile.
“I see you’re already close,” Natasha said, her voice dripping with mocking sympathy. “But this time, I won’t stop. I’m going to push you past every limit you have.”
You gasped, your body tensing as the device did its work. Natasha leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “Tell me, Y/n. How does it feel to be outsmarted?”
Your breaths came in ragged bursts, your body on the brink. “When I get out of here-” Natasha’s smile widened. “Answers.Now.”
Your resolve shattered as you realized the futility of resistance. You spilled everything, your words a desperate rush. “Fuck! The facility is in the Carpathians, not the Alps. Zola… H-He is there, with a team! They’re developing a new Bio weapon!”
Natasha nodded, her eyes never leaving your face. “Good girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” However, she didn’t stop. Instead, she increased the intensity. Your eyes widened in shock. “I told the truth!”
Natasha’s expression was cold and unyielding. “This is for lying earlier. You need to learn that there are consequences.”
Your body convulsed as you were pushed past your limit, your pleas turning into incoherent screams. Natasha watched impassively, making sure you learned your lesson.
She placed her hand on your body, her fingers stroking and teasing expertly, amplifying the overstimulation. Her touch was precise, knowing exactly how to drive you over the edge repeatedly.
“Do you feel that, Y/n?” Natasha whispered seductively. “I can do this all night. You won’t find any relief until I’m satisfied.”
Your eyes begged for mercy, but Natasha’s resolve was ironclad. „God, this Face is so cute..“ She continued her relentless torture, pushing you to multiple, agonizingly intense orgasms. Each time you thought you couldn’t take any more, Natasha found a new way to amplify the pleasure, keeping you on the brink of madness.
“You belong to me now,” Natasha said, her voice a velvety purr. “Every time you lie to me, this is what you’ll get.”
Your body shook uncontrollably, your mind barely holding on. Natasha’s hand moved to your clit, her fingers circling with expert precision. The overstimulation was unbearable, driving you over the edge again and again.
“Please… no more…” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. Natasha’s smile was one of cold satisfaction. “Remember this feeling, Y/n. This is what happens when you cross me.”
Natasha leaned in one last time, her voice a deadly whisper. “Next time, think twice before you try to deceive me.”
“S-Should I apologize!? Is that what you want to h-hear?” you cried, your voice breaking. “I’m sorry, there y-you have it! Now turn it o-” You gasped, your words cut off by a shattering climax that coursed through you.
Natasha’s smile was triumphant, but she didn’t stop the machine. Instead, she leaned closer, her breath hot against your skin. “You’re so sweet.”
Your body writhed, your mind a haze of pleasure and pain. “N-Natasha!” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. “Please…”
Natasha stepped closer, her hands now working in tandem with the machine. Her fingers found your clit again. Your eyes widened, a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you. “No… no, please… I can’t take it…!“ you begged, your voice a hoarse whisper.
“Oh, yes, you can,” Natasha replied, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “And you will.” Natasha knew you weren’t in any real pain, just overwhelmed by pleasure. She knew your body so well, every sensitive spot mapped in her mind. She could sense your inner conflict, your head shaking in defiance while your body responded with undeniable arousal. Deep down, you agreed, unable to deny the raw pleasure coursing through your veins.
Your body arched, your mind a whirl of sensations. Natasha’s fingers and the relentless machine worked in harmony, driving you to heights of pleasure you hadn’t thought possible. Every touch, was designed to break you, to make you completely surrender.
“Say it again.” Natasha whispered, her breath hot against your ear. Your voice was a broken sob. “I’m sorry… Please… Please…” you repeated, your body trembling violently.
“Good girl,” Natasha cooed, her fingers never pausing. “But I want more. I want you to scream for me.” And you did. Your body writhed, every nerve on fire. You were sure you would die from the sheer intensity of the pleasure, your mind shattered, your will completely broken. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, her touch both torment and balm.
Her fingers moved with expert precision, finding the perfect spot that made you jerk violently in your restraints. “Ah, there it is,” Natasha purred, holding your hips steady as she intensified the stimulation. “I knew you had it in you.”
Your eyes rolled back, your body arching helplessly against the relentless pleasure. “FUCK… PLEASE… I’m begging you…!!”
“Beg all you want,” Natasha whispered, her voice deep and sensual. “I love hearing you beg. Where’s your attitude now, hm?” Natasha taunted, her fingers never slowing. “You were so defiant before. What happened?”
“I…I..” your voice was a breathless sob, your body trembling with the intensity of your orgasm.
Natasha’s fingers continued their merciless assault, finding every sensitive spot and exploiting it ruthlessly. Your body arched, your mind breaking under the sheer intensity of the pleasure. You were sure you would die from it, your will completely shattered under Natasha’s expert touch.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Natasha slowed the machine and her fingers, giving you a moment to catch your breath. She leaned close, her lips brushing your ear. “You did good,” she murmured. “But remember, there’s always more to tell, more to give.”
Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your body sagging in the restraints. In that moment, you knew you were utterly and completely at Natasha’s mercy. And there was nothing you could do about it.
You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.
Table of Contents
Chapter One: I Thought You Died A Long, Long Time Ago
Chapter Two: Flower In A Hailstorm
Chapter Three: Would You Like To Hear My Voice?
Chapter Four: Between Fact and Fiction, Which One Of Us Changed?
Chapter Five: Take Me, I'm Bad
Chapter Six: He's Killing Me For Mercy
Chapter Seven: You Don't Know Me
Chapter Eight: You Can't Raise Hell With A Saint
Chapter Nine: You Can Fool Any Friend Who Ever Knew You
You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.
Table of Contents
Chapter One: I Thought You Died A Long, Long Time Ago
Chapter Two: Flower In A Hailstorm
Chapter Three: Would You Like To Hear My Voice?
Chapter Four: Between Fact and Fiction, Which One Of Us Changed?
Chapter Five: Take Me, I'm Bad
Chapter Six: He's Killing Me For Mercy
Chapter Seven: You Don't Know Me
Chapter Eight: You Can't Raise Hell With A Saint
Chapter Nine: You Can Fool Any Friend Who Ever Knew You
You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.
Series Masterlist
Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader
Warnings: Violence. Some gore. Reader is a messed up assassin and loves helping her friend. More fun weapons. Opera music. Childhood trauma hanging out in the background. Minors DNI.
Word Count: 3.4k
Author's Note: This chapter is finally ready! I hope you all enjoy. I apologize for the long wait. I also apologize for the wait for the next chapter. Your love for this fic is why it's longer than one chapter.
Chapter Nine: You Can Fool Any Friend Who Ever Knew You
Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1993
The sound of crunching snow caused your head to lift. Your friend knelt down in front of you. The wind swept the stray strands of her blue hair that escaped the confines of her gray knitted hat across her face. As her gloved hand reached up to push her hair away from her face, you tried desperately to understand what you were seeing. The look in your friend’s eyes was not one you were accustomed to. It was too strange. Like something out of a television show or in one of your sister’s books. It was fear and slight traces of panic. But not for herself. She looked scared about…you.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked.
Your head turned to look in the direction you had come from. In the direction of the frozen pond. Where the cold, dead hare sunk deep into the pitch black water. You had done it. You had done what was asked of you. So why did it feel like your father was standing right next to you? Scolding. Yelling.
A soft gloved hand pressed gently against your cheek and slowly turned your head back towards Nat.
“Y/N?” she asked.
“I got lost,” your voice shook. You felt so cold. The sting of the wind against your cheeks was gone. The chill of the snow was quickly becoming a memory. Every inch of you was just cold. You were pretty sure your bones were turning into icicles. Which meant if you fell, you would shatter.
Nat’s gloved hand dropped away from your face and came to rest on your arm. “Is your brother and sister also out there?”
You shook your head.
“Your father?”
“He is at the convention,” your answer was automatic. It was what you were instructed to say if anyone asked about your father. It was an easy instruction to remember. It was true. Your father was attending his favorite convention. Also, no one ever bothered to ask. Nat was the first.
“C’mon,” Nat said as she helped you to your feet. “We can’t stay out here.”
Your body felt stiff as you stood. You couldn’t really feel your legs as you went to take your first step, but then Nat reached out to take hold of your hand. Despite the layers of the gloves that separated your hand from hers, you felt a sudden warmth. It was as if you had decided to reach out and grab the radiator in your family room. You instinctively tried to pull your arm back, but Nat’s hold on your hand didn’t let go. Instead, she led you back up the path you had been trying to find.
Slowly, the stiffness in your body vanished as Nat led you out of the woods and into your backyard. The windows along the backside of your house were dark. As Nat neared your house’s back door, you stopped walking. She stopped and looked back at you.
“You can’t go in there,” you said. Only your father was allowed to bring visitors over to the house. But even if that rule didn’t exist, you still wouldn’t bring Nat into your home. She was your friend. You couldn’t do that to her. Not when her house was so much better.
“Okay,” she said. Her grip on your hand never wavered. “My house then.”
You followed Nat around your house and across the street. The warmth of her home was almost overwhelming when she led you inside. The whole world was suddenly cast in a soft, yellow light as Nat helped you remove your boots. You shivered when you removed your coat and felt your damp clothes sticking to your skin. Nat led you upstairs and left you standing in the bathroom while she fetched spare clothes from her room.
As you waited in the bathroom, you examined the small room. It was very similar to the one you and your siblings shared. The sink, toilet, and bathtub were all in the same spots. The floor was made of the same small, white, square tiles that covered the floor of your bathroom. But the walls were painted a warm beige. Your bathroom walls weren’t painted at all. Or if your father had painted them, they were just white. But one thing in particular grabbed your attention.
Sitting on the edge of the bathtub was a bright yellow rubber duck. You walked over and picked it up. These were real?
The door to the bathroom opened, and Nat returned with dry, fresh clothes in her arms. “These should fit you.”
You set the rubber duck down and took the fresh clothes. “Thanks. Where did you get the duck?”
Nat looked first at the rubber duck and then back at you. “My mom. Why?”
You shrugged. “I didn’t know they were real. I only ever saw them on TV.” You felt stupid for not connecting the two things earlier. You didn’t have a mother so it only made sense that you also didn’t have a rubber duck.
You changed into fresh clothes after Nat left. You felt more yourself when you left the bathroom and returned to your friend’s bedroom. She was busy setting up a game of Clue which was one of your favorite games. You settled down on the floor across from her as she finished setting up the board.
“What were you doing out there?” she asked.
You picked up the tiny revolver game piece. “Chores.”
Richmond, Virginia – 2012
She looks stunning. The black dress compliments every inch of her body from her toned arms that spill from its short sleeves, to the graceful curve of her hips, and the commanding presence of her strong legs that peak out from the slit of her dress. Her short red hair looks softer, and the way her earrings catch the light makes you smile. Your focus is drawn to the red lipstick that coats her lips.
“I know what it’s like to be used by other people.”
Your smile falters, and you already start to feel the urge to move and do something. Preferably kill someone. But you’ll take standard violence if that’s the only option. The noise and thrill of it all always buries the thoughts and memories that try to climb to the surface. But you can’t do any of that. Climbing into the vent had been hard enough. You had just barely fit. You are also in position. Leaving now would jeopardize your friend’s mission. Which would jeopardize your alone time with her.
So your only option is to continue to lay in the vent you crawled into. The picture you have of Nat in her dress remains up on your interior visor screen and you choose to imagine yourself in your finest suit. You miss the clothes you used to have. Instead of wearing one stupid suit, you were anyone you wanted to be. You could have easily been her date. Your smile returns.
Your photo of Nat shrinks slightly as new data appears on the left side of your screen. It’s a message from the phone number you had memorized minutes after receiving it.
Target approaching. You in position?
You have just enough wiggle room in the vent to pull your cherished phone from one of your pockets. Your gloved fingers type out your reply.
Tight fit. Ready.
As you tuck your phone back into your pocket, you hear the crackling noise of your friend’s comms going live. The hum of voices mixed with the occasional clink of glassware echoes within your helmet. You can imagine the scene clearly. You and Nat surrounded by the wealthy and elite. Your friend on your arm as you make small talk with all the important people who you know so well. Because they hire you to kill their rivals. You enjoy watching the life fade from your targets’ eyes and all the important good wealthy people love staying in power. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. And the cherry on top is your friend–
“You look stunning Miss. Rushman.”
The stranger’s voice drowns out all the background noise. You stare up at the dull, metal panel that hangs two inches from your helmet.
“Well, it’s not every day a girl gets invited to watch Tristan und Isolde,” Nat’s voice fills up all the space in your helmet.
“I prefer to treat my business contacts well,” the stranger’s voice replies. “I find that these outings foster stronger connections. Come. Our seats are this way.”
Your message log with Nat vanishes from your visor screen, and your picture of Nat shrinks as a boring map fills up the majority of your screen. You are familiar with this map. It’s a map of the entire building, and you’ve been studying it for the past forty-eight hours. You’re here to help your friend with her mission and nothing could go wrong. There was no way you were going to risk your time with Nat. So you are going to complete the objective per her orders. You smile at that thought as you review your route to your target.
“Does that mean you are moving forward with my offer?” Nat’s voice asks.
The map on your screen vanishes as you press your feet down on one of the vent panels. You feel it drop open and you shift around until you slide out of the vent and land in a hallway. To your left is a stairwell that only goes up. To your right is just a plain concrete wall. You pull your gun from your holster and attach a silencer over the muzzle as you start walking down the hallway.
“Your offer is the most appealing,” the stranger’s voice replies.
“It’s the highest bid you’ll get for it,” Nat’s voice says.
You hear the stranger’s chuckle. “Your offer did take me by surprise, Miss. Rushman. At first, I thought I had appraised it incorrectly. But after reviewing its history, I found that I made no mistake. Every other bid falls in line with what I expected. Except for yours. I’m curious about your story.”
As you near the end of the hallway, it splits off to the right and left. You turn to your right and raise your gun. Roughly five feet away is a guard dressed in a clean black suit. He stands with his back to you, and you take a moment to line up your shot.
“My story is rather boring. I’m a collector, and I choose not to insult other colleagues with bad offers,” Nat’s voice says. Her lie makes you smile. You don’t know what the target is exactly. Your friend did not share those details with you. You didn’t push because it was her mission. Whatever all this was about was probably some secretive SHIELD stuff. Most likely real SHIELD since Nat had only invited you to help her. In the end, you didn’t care. But her lie sparked a small bit of curiosity about this target.
The sound of the orchestra spills through your commlink as you pull the trigger. The guard crumples forward as blood splatters against the walls. Someone grabs you from behind. You jam your elbow into soft flesh and slip free from your assailant’s hold. You turn and bury a bullet in the middle of another guard’s face. The guard’s head jerks back as a large, red hole eats away at the center of his face. No more nose. Most of the upper lip gone. You hear bits of his brain hit the ground less than a second before his body does.
You step over the fallen guards and are careful not to step into the growing puddles of blood. You continue down the hallway and kill two more guards who came rushing at you. You empty out the rest of your clip on one of the down guards who was still moaning. The guard is still and quiet as you reload your gun.
“Oh I simply love this part,” the stranger’s voice says as you near the door that leads into the room containing your target.
You open the door. The room within is large and square. Crates and boxes line the walls of the room. A brief glance into one of the open boxes reveals a random assortment of props. A storage room. You bet that if you could take off your helmet you could probably smell the musty scent that you know is clinging onto every inch of this space. It reminds you of your father’s storage room in your basement. The way the musty scent sucked up all the air.
But unlike your father’s old storage closet, this storage room had clearly been prepared for visitors. All the lights were on and the space in the middle of the room cleared except for a single square card table. Sitting in the middle of the card table is a brown briefcase. Not one of those fancy briefcases. Well, maybe it had been fancy and eye-catching a long time ago. Now it bears the weather beaten stains of many years of use. You can see the scratches in the once perfect, smooth leather. The golden metal that accents the rectangular handles carries smudges.
As you reach the card table, your free hand moves towards the pocket that carries your phone.
Your visor alerts you to the other person’s approach a second after something loud and painful slams into your chest. All the info on your interior visor screen goes blank and the stream of orchestra music filtering into your helmet from your commlink with Nat abruptly stops as the force of whatever hit you lifts you off your feet. You are flying backwards as if yanked back on the end of a line. The crash of breaking crates swallows up your pained shout as your body collapses to the ground. Your suit feels so heavy. As if it was trapped beneath the weight of hundreds of crates. But you’re not trapped. You are lying amongst broken boxes and scattered props. But you can’t move. A flash of pain seizes hold of your limbs, and all you can do is lay there and stare at the dark visor screen while your limbs spasms.
“You certainly take your time.”
It’s a voice you don’t recognize. That seemed to be the theme of the night. Nat gets her stranger, and you get yours. Your hands continue to twitch as you hear approaching footsteps. It takes only seconds for the stranger to reach you. Even with the black mask covering most of the stranger’s face, you don’t recognize him. His brown eyes examine your spasming body. You want to say something. You want to tell this man that his yellow hoodie looks like the color of piss and that his brown vest only cements the image of a foul toilet in your mind. But you can’t get a single word out. Just pained gasps.
“This is what they gave you?” he asks as he gestures to your suit.
Your eyes lock onto the bright bluish-white light that glows out the end of the man’s large metal gauntlets.
“The way they talk about you, I thought they’d give you the better toy,” he says.
You can start to feel your legs again as the man shakes his head and then moves his arm to aim one of the gauntlets at your head. You sweep your legs into the back of the stranger’s. The man falls and the blast meant for your head hits the crates behind you as you roll onto your knees. You quickly find your gun laying near the card table where you dropped it. You get to your feet and run towards it, but quickly change directions when you hear a loud whine. Another blast sends both your gun, the card table, and the briefcase flying.
You turn towards the stranger. Your interior visor screen is still blank. Commlink gone. It’s almost like your old jobs. Minus the stupid suit and whatever kind of weapon this piss and shit themed man was using. You pull one of the black knives strapped to your torso free and rush towards him. The whine of the stranger’s gauntlets grows louder as the squares of bluish-white light where hands should normally be become brighter. You jump out of the way as another blast cuts across the storage room. You close the distance and bring your arm back to drive your knife into any part of him. The stranger raises one of the large gauntlets to block your strike. You drop your knife and catch it in your other hand and go to dig your knife into the man’s chest, but his other arm blocks that as well.
You go to bring your knee up when a much smaller, but still painful, blast sends you flying back again. Your limbs don’t spasm like before as you crash again into more crates. Your knife is gone. Your gun is somewhere in this mess. Your heavy breaths begin to fog up your visor as you roll onto your side to get back up. You see the briefcase laying within arms reach to your right. You can hear the stranger’s rushed, advancing footsteps.
You grab the handle of the briefcase and turn, swinging it out towards the man. The edge of the briefcase slams into the side of the man’s head. He stumbles away and you wish he wasn’t wearing that ski mask so you could see what kind of damage you had done. When he shakes his head and lets out a yell, you look down at your new weapon and frown. Apparently the briefcase is so old that the locks don’t work well. The briefcase is hanging open and the contents within landed at your feet. It’s–
Three gunshots silence the man’s yelling. You look up and watch as the stranger drops with a graceless thud. Three blotches of bright red stains his shit colored vest. His brown eyes are still open but very much dead. You missed your favorite part of any kill, but your thoughts are a jumbled mess. You want to look back down at what is laying at your feet, but instead you look over at the shooter.
Your friend looks as stunning as her picture. Even better with the gun in her hand. You bet the barrel would still be warm if you could get close enough. If you could take off your helmet and just say anything. Anything to erase the last thing you said to her. You watch as she moves towards you. You spot the familiar traces of fear in the way her eyes examine every inch of you. Searching for anything broken.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
She’s so close. Just a couple inches and a stupid suit separates the two of you. It had been so long since she last saw you. Two years had passed. She had become a hero and you thought all connections to your time with her in the woods, in the middle of nowhere, had been severed. You thought she had moved on. You thought playing this stupid game with HYDRA and SHIELD was all you would ever get to spend time with your friend. But you were wrong.
Her hand comes to grip the back of your helmet. “I need you to answer me.”
You nod.
She lets go of the back of your helmet at your answer. You follow her gaze as she looks first at the briefcase you hold hanging open. Her gaze drops lower to the object at your feet. A black 9mm Beretta handgun. Your gun. The one you lost. The only one that ever felt right in your hand.
She’s still playing your game. She’s still trying to find you.
Nat picks up your gun, and your lips part as if to say something. There’s a million things you want to say, but you can’t. One word echoes amongst your jumbling thoughts, and it steals your voice. So instead, all you do is offer your friend the briefcase.
“No,” Nat shakes her head. She steps closer to you to slide her gun into the empty holster at your hip. You see the corner of her lip rise into a smirk. “Don’t lose that.” Then, she slides your gun into the holster strapped to one of her long legs beneath the curtain of her dress.
The briefcase falls from your grip, and Nat takes hold of your hand. You follow her to the exit, and as your thoughts continue to crash into each other and scream, you wonder: does she know it’s you?
With her target dead, all Yelena needs to do is clean up a loose end. You. Except she can't pull the trigger. But she can't let you go. That leaves only one option.
Yelena Belova x fem Reader
Warnings: Violence. Some gore. Mention of past non-consensual relationship. Smut ( bdsm, dom/sub relationship, punishments, impact play, restraints, light degradation but it's there, edging, collars ). Minors DNI. This was written for a mature audience. Please do not repost my work. Reblog, like, and/or comments is how you can show your support.
Word Count: 3k
Author's Note: This started out as a writing exercise and it turned into this. It was too much fun to not share. I can see this being a short series. Let me know what you guys think. Do you want more Yelena?
Chapter One: The Brat Tamer
You put up a good fight. The two goons that obey Watson’s every command drag you down the hallway. With every breath you take, you try to get away. You try to pull yourself from their grasp. You try digging your feet into the hardwood floors. You try everything you can think of to either wear them down or slip free. But all your efforts do nothing as they reach the door to Watson’s study. The door opens, and you are pushed into the room.
You stumble into Watson’s study, and you just barely manage to stop yourself from falling face first onto the floor. You hear the door shut behind you. You want to turn around and yank the door back open. You want to run out of Watson’s study and just keep running until all of this is far behind you. But you already tried that. Multiple times. It never works. You run and run and run…and you end up back here.
“Ah, Y/N,” Watson’s familiar voice claims your attention. He is sitting behind his large mahogany desk in his favorite dark brown armchair. He is dressed in his usual navy blue business suit with a tumbler glass of whiskey in his hand. “You made it.” The smile that cuts across his face is cold and hollow. “I want you to meet someone.” He gestures with his hand to the woman sitting across from him.
The first thing you notice is her hair. Her long blonde hair is held away from her face in a large intricate braid. Only a couple blonde strands fall free to frame her face as she turns in her seat to look at you. She wears a long green trench coat that is held closed by the wrap that is knotted across her stomach. Black fingerless gloves cover her hands while black tactical looking boots cover her feet. But it’s her eyes that steal your attention completely. The woman’s hazel eyes are playful, but there is something else that lurks behind it. You feel as though you are standing before a predator. But not the kind like Watson. Not vile and disgusting. She’s different.
“This is Yelena,” Watson says.
She offers you a smile and tilts her head slightly as her eyes drink in the sight of you.
“She is here at my request,” Watson continues.
You can feel her stare as if they were her fingers raking over your skin. Just minutes ago, you hadn’t cared how you looked. You were content to look as messy and unpresentable to Watson as possible. You hated his touch, and you did whatever you could to keep him away from you. It wasn’t a foolproof plan. When he wanted you he would have his way with you. But his displeasure was always palpable, and you found solace in that.
But now you feel like a dirty, mangy animal under her stare. You are suddenly self conscious of all your flaws. Your grass stained sweats and your worn band t-shirt feel wrong to wear. You nervously pick at the hem of your shirt.
“Y/N!” Watson’s raises his voice and your attention is dragged away from Yelena. You can still feel her looking at you. Watson’s hollow smile is gone. “Say hello.”
Your attention quickly returns to Yelena. Her hazel eyes meet yours. “Hi.” You feel proud that your voice doesn’t betray how you really feel. Your voice comes out calm and even slightly disinterested.
Watson shakes his head and looks across his desk to Yelena. “As I explained, she is challenging.”
“It is nothing I can’t handle,” Yelena says. The woman’s Russian accent laces through her words as she keeps her focus on you despite responding to Watson.
“Threesome’s aren’t really my thing,” you say to Watson. You watch as he takes a long sip of his drink. Your words are meaningless to him. He has already done so much to you that you hated. He’s already heard you begging him to stop. He never does.
He sets his drink down on his desk. “Even if it was, you do not deserve any pleasure. I spent three days chasing you down after your latest stunt. Do you know how much money I spent to make sure you got back here safely?”
You shrug. “I don’t know. A thousand dollars? Whatever it was, it sounds like a big waste of money to me.”
“You should be grateful,” he says.
“I will be dead before that ever happens,” you reply. “Can I go now?”
“No.”
It is Yelena that answers you. Your gaze shifts to the woman, and you notice that her smile is gone.
“Yelena is here to correct your behavior,” Watson explains.
You are still processing Watson’s words when Yelena stands up and moves towards you. You instinctively step back, but Yelena closes the space between the two of you. You can smell the jasmine and cedarwood scent of her perfume as she moves in a slow circle around you. You hear her come to a stop behind you. You are tempted to turn your head to look at her, but Watson’s movement steals your attention.
He rises from his chair and collects his glass of whiskey. “She has my permission to do whatever her work requires.” He moves away from his desk and closer to you. “And if you drive her away–”
“She won’t,” Yelena cuts in before Watson can finish his threat. You feel her finger slowly glide across your back between your two shoulder blades. You shift your weight from one foot to the other. The smell of her perfume is beginning to be all you smell, and you don’t want that to stop. “I am very good at taming brats.”
Watson’s smile makes you want to turn and run, but Yelena’s hand grabs the back of your collar. You stumble for a moment as the action jerks you back half a step. You can feel the softness of her coat brush against your back as something cuts apart the collar. Before you can think to ask, the dark blue, rough, scratchy collar is removed. The brush of cool air against the newly exposed skin around your neck feels strange.
Yelena holds the collar out towards Watson. The collar’s fabric has been cut through and looks pathetic and sad in Watson’s hand. “Take that. She must earn it back.” You aren’t eager to earn it back, but a warmth pools in your gut. Watson walks by you, and you listen to the sound of his retreating footsteps. You can still feel Yelena at your back as you hear the door to Watson’s study open and then close.
“Your Master has told me so much about you,” she says once you two are finally alone. You feel her press her finger into the nape of your neck. “He told me how he acquired you.” Her finger slowly traces down the back of your neck. The feeling of her skin pressed against yours is like lightning, and the warmth taking root within you becomes more pronounced. “It is obviously the root of your misbehavior. We will address it. I will make you his obedient slut.”
“I’m not his–”
You are about to turn around to face her, but her finger disappears from the back of your neck. Her fingers curl into your hair, and she grabs a fistful of it. Without warning, she pulls you back until your entire back is pressed against her front. Her lips come to rest next to your ear.
“You will not speak unless I give you permission. Do you understand?”
Your hands come up in a pathetic attempt to free yourself from her hold. Yelena’s free hand effortlessly smacks your hands away and gives another swift yank on your hair. Your eyes squeeze shut against the pain, and you think you can hear her smiling as her breath tickles your ear.
“Yes,” you finally say.
She doesn’t let go. “You will address me as Domina.”
“Yes, Domina,” you quickly reply.
She lets go of your hair, and you take a breath at the receding pain. Domina. You’ve never had a Domina before. Always a Master. There’s a ring to the title that you like. You like the way it feels in your mouth when you say it. Unlike Watson’s title. You want to gag every time he forces the title out of you.
“Your Master gives you too many privileges,” Yelena says as she takes a small step away from you. The feeling of her body against yours disappears, and you don’t like that at all. You miss it. And you hate how she keeps dragging your Master back to the forefront of your mind. You don’t want to think about him. You just want to think about her. You don’t know what she’s going to do to you, and it sends a thrill through you.
“He lets you speak when you have not earned it,” she continues. “He lets you hit him when you do not listen. I am revoking these privileges. Put your hands behind your back.”
You bring your hands back, and you feel her hand grab hold of yours. She secures a pair of handcuffs around your wrists. Once the cuffs are locked, she lets go and you hear her take a step back. The same feeling from before returns. You want her to keep touching you. You don’t want her to stop.
“Kneel,” she orders.
“Does this have to happen here?” you ask. You hear her moving slightly behind you and you start to turn your head to look at her. “There are at least six bedrooms we could–”
You don’t see her pull out the baton. In fact, you aren’t even aware of its existence within this room until she hits it against the back of your knees. A sharp cry is ripped from your lips as you fall immediately to your knees. The pain stings as she slowly walks around and stands in front of you. You stare at her black tactical boots until the tip of her black baton comes to rest beneath your chin. She tilts your head up.
“Your antics will not work on me,” she says. “All they will do is earn you more punishments.” She removes her baton from beneath your chin. “Open your mouth.”
You keep your lips shut and look away from her. A moment later her hand grabs your face and forces you to look up at her again.
“You will not win this, Y/N.” Yelena’s fingers press into your cheeks and squeeze. You try to keep your mouth shut for as long as possible, but she soon manages to pry your mouth open. She brings her baton back up, but instead of bringing it down against you again, she positions it horizontally and shoves it into your open mouth. The grip she has on your mouth loosens as your mouth slowly closes over the baton. Your teeth bite down against the weapon. “Do not drop this.”
Yelena lets go of her baton before kneeling down on one knee in front of you. She lifts up the hem of your t-shirt until the waistline of your sweats is exposed. “You should be wet by now.”
You are not prepared for those words, and you are even less prepared when Yelena slips her hand between the fabric of your sweats and your skin. Her hand expertly slips underneath your soaked panties. The moment you feel her fingers brush against your wet sex, you let out a small moan. Your bite on her baton starts to loosen as every thought in your head diverts to her fingers.
“You are losing focus,” she says as her fingers gather up some of your slick. “Your punishment will be worse if you drop my baton.”
Your teeth dig back into the baton, and you are glad you did because you know for sure that you would have dropped the weapon when her fingers finally plunge into you. She gives you no time to properly react as her fingers begin thrusting in and out of you at a pace that pulls louder moans from you. She watches you as her fingers brush across your sweet spot. Her head tilts slightly to the side as her fingers continue to work you up. Her fingers are deft and merciless as you feel yourself steadily reaching that sweet, blissful edge.
You’re getting so close, and you try to speak around the baton in your mouth but all that comes out are unintelligent noises. But right as you are about to spill over, her fingers disappear. Yelena pulls her hand out from your sweats. More unintelligent noises escape from your mouth as you voice your frustration. You are so close. Why did she stop?
She ignores all your noises and gets up. Your head tilts back to look at her while her hand dips into the pocket of her green coat. “That is all you will get until you learn to behave.” Her other hand reaches out, and her fingers settle underneath your chin while her thumb softly strokes the side of your cheek. “But we will work on that, malýshka.”
You feel something pinch the side of your neck. You don’t understand what is happening as you feel your body grow heavy. Yelena continues to watch you as your head suddenly feels very heavy and rolls forward. Your eyes shut, and you hear the baton hit the floor. Then nothing.
When you wake, you are no longer in the study. You are laying on a couch in the living room. It’s quiet, and you don’t understand how you got here. You feel something draped over you. You turn your head to look, and you end up more confused. Draped across your body is Yelena’s green coat. What happened? One minute you were on the cusp of coming completely undone into the hands of this woman, and now you’re here.
You sit up and part of Yelena’s coat falls away to reveal your hands bound in cuffs in front of you. Your clothes are still on, and you don’t see anyone around. In fact, you don’t hear the usual chatter of lounging goons. Everything is so quiet. What’s going on? You lift Yelena’s coat off of you and stand. The living room is empty, and the large flatscreen hanging on the wall is off. You are about to call out to anybody when you see it.
Or rather, when you see him.
Laying on his back on the other side of the couch is Watson. He is dressed in the same navy business suit you saw him in earlier. So you couldn’t have been out for long. He is staring up at the ceiling with his eyes wide and his mouth open as if he is yelling. In the middle of his forehead, right above his eyebrows, is a red hole. Dark red blood pools on the wooden floor beneath his head.
You are still putting together exactly what you are seeing when you hear fast, heavy footsteps rushing down the hallway. One of Watson’s goons emerges from the hallway. Usually, Watson’s goons can’t help themselves. They love touching you. They love any excuse to drag you to your Master. But this time, the goon doesn’t even spare you a look. He keeps running across the living room towards the foyer.
Three gunshots make you jump and cry out as the goon stumbles. Fresh blood stains the backside of his shirt as he falls. You hear him struggling to push himself back onto his feet when someone else emerges from the hallway.
Yelena. With her coat gone you see that she is dressed in a black tactical suit. Some blood has dried along the side of her face, but you don’t see any marks on her. In her hand is a gun, and she raises it towards the struggling goon. She pulls the trigger and another gunshot rips through the air. You take several steps back away from the couch as the goon goes still.
“Oh my god,” you say, unable to stop yourself. You know you shouldn’t have drawn attention to yourself but what the fuck did you just watch? “You killed him. You just…” You look away from the goon’s body and you find Yelena looking at you. “...killed him.” You know that you’re repeating yourself, but it’s the only thing you can think to say.
“Yes,” Yelena replies with a small nod. “That is what I am paid to do.”
Paid? Your mouth opens and then closes as a million questions crash together in your head.
Yelena moves towards the couch and reaches down to grab her coat. “Come. We cannot play twenty questions here. I have set the explosives to go off in five minutes.”
You quickly take another step back. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Then, a moment later when what she also said finally hits you. “Wait, explosives?”
She puts her coat back on and moves towards you. “I think I drugged you too much. You are acting very slow.” You feel the warm barrel of her gun press against your side when she reaches you. “You do not get to choose. You are my prisoner.” The barrel of her gun digs into your side when you don’t move. “Do you want to walk or do you want me to shoot?”
You still have so many questions, but the look Yelena gives you keeps you quiet. As much as you want to understand what the hell is going on, you also want to get as far away from all this as possible. But the gun makes both those things impossible. So, without any other choice available, you start to move towards the foyer. You see Yelena smile as she moves to walk behind you. She drags the barrel of her gun to press against your lower back.
“Good girl, malýshka,” she says.
Her praise sends a shiver down your spine as you leave.
Hi! I love your work and I was wondering if you have AO3?
Thank you so much, friend! I do not have an AO3 account. I have been wondering if I should create one to share my fics there or just keep everything on this blog. I might someday make one. If I do, I'll be sure to let you guys know!
So I was working on a writing exercise this week to get myself out of a small bit of writer's block. When I started writing it, I had no intentions of posting it. It doesn't even feature Nat. But I ended up really liking it and can kinda see it as a short series possibly. Soo...I'm gonna post it for you guys. See what you think. If you guys don't like it, that's fine. I have a half a chapter of I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun just breathing down my neck. That'll be out probably towards the end of the month.
But if you do like what I'm going to post tonight then...uh...expect more of it along with my other fic because I think writing a Nat fic and then a Yelena fic is really funny.
This has been living rent free in my head for WEEKS. First, look at her. Second, that box of popcorn is so comically huge it makes me laugh every time.
Guys. I had no idea that during my unwanted break that tumblr made it possible for sideblogs to finally reply to comments. This has changed my whole world. I cannot wait to reply to every one of you.
summary: five years ago, a monster from another world attacked. though it was entrapped and kept hidden from the world, a secret that dangerous can only be kept for so long before it finally gathers the attention from the avengers, but what they find is the last thing anyone could have expected
word count: 3.6k
warnings: imprisonment & confinement, unethical use of sedation, institutionalized abuse, shock collars, straight jackets, themes of schizophrenia, marvel canon violence
In, out. In… out. In, out. Your breathing had changed. It was different somehow, harder to pull the air into your lungs and expel it.
The material that was somehow classed as a blanket scratched at the palm of your hands, every fibre catching on the flecks of skin that were almost as rough as the grey material beneath you. Even if you could speak, you wouldn’t complain because the alternative was having no barrier between you and the floor which became so impossibly cold at night. Besides, it was hardly the object of your main discomforts.
The chains weren’t so bad. Although they made your wrists and ankles raw until they bled only to be placed back on twelve hours later, they were still preferable to the straight jacket you would be placed back in once the morning came. You hated that. You hated the way it managed to confine every movement that you could possibly wish to make should you have the control to do so. It was unnecessary and humiliating even after all those years. You knew that. They knew that. Still, it was the collar that was the worst, the obnoxious bulky ring that they never turned off so at a moment’s notice you could be struck by those lightning bolts that came from within.
The sound of mechanical movements, clicks and a long beep broke through the silence of the room and a sudden stream of light flooded the space just as swiftly. You winced, even though you were expecting it to happen any moment, having been interrupted from the blanket of darkness that you had been immersed under for an excessive amount of time. You blinked, registering the solid shadow that filled the orange glow on the wall you were facing, until it grew larger and its physical body reached your side.
“...if the blood pressure is too low we’ll have to stop…” you heard the shadow say.
“...stop it being a pain in the ass…” another voice joined. You recognised them both but didn’t think you could match their voices to a face.
“...keep it sedated…” they continued as you felt another thick material being wrapped around your arm. You realised it was the one that squeezed your arm uncomfortably though it was nothing compared to the way you were handled by the people.
“Claw their eyes out,” another voice joined, far clearer and instantly recognisable. If you let your eyes fall to the far corner of the room, you would see the bear man lurking. He always made his appearances at that time, just as you were being given more of the fluids that came in needles, and left once all of your senses dulled once more. Nothing lingered once that happened. You ignored him as you always did because he only lived in your head and that was the single most unreliable source there was.
“Those chains can’t hold you. Kill them and leave,” he continued to instruct, remaining still enough for you to make out the outline of the bear skin draping his body even from the corner of your eye. You weren’t quite sure where your mind had gotten its inspiration when it conjured his attire. “Stop them before they poison you further!” He demanded, apparently your subconscious was playing far closer attention to those beside you than you were. You didn’t have to, you knew what they were doing and that despite what the bear man said, you were powerless to it when they slipped the needle back into you. The contents were swiftly flushed through your system as the man you conjured up grew more enraged. You closed your eyes and ignored the flurry of demands that carried across the room to your ears alone. He would be gone soon.
~
“We know that at the very least they have information about it but they won’t give us anything. Romanoff, you think you can do some digging?” Steve asked from the end of the conference room.
“I’ll see what I can find,” Natasha agreed, certainly intrigued by the matter she was tasked to pursue. Aliens on Earth certainly wouldn’t be a first, nor would an underground company keeping one be, but actually finding it before it was released? Now that would be new.
“You reckon this is something we should prepare for?” Wanda asked her girlfriend as the pair left the conference room together after the meeting. The rest of the team dispersed in other directions to carry out the tasks they had all been assigned by the captain.
“Maybe. Five years without any signs doesn’t necessarily mean nothing is happening but it is strange,” Natasha considered. “If I had to guess, I’d say this company is waiting for the right moment to play the alien card.”
“So you think they are keeping it?” Wanda continued, always curious to learn what dots the older hero connected to reach the conclusions she did.
“Any bio-company with that much money and that little recognition is something worth looking into, especially if they just so happen to have a fully armed swat team that they don’t want anyone knowing about,” Natasha explained as the pair arrived in the kitchen where Bruce was making himself a coffee.
“But you saw the photos of the scene after it was detained, how did a swat team manage to capture whatever was capable of all of that?” The Sokovian questioned.
“How did they manage to get to it before anyone else?” Natasha added. “These are the things I need to find out.”
“Maybe they made it,” Bruce chimed, having heard half the conversation. Both women turned their heads to the scientist. “Or maybe they found it and it escaped so they captured it again,” he theorised.
“That would make sense,” Natasha considered.
“Either way, once you’ve got any information on it let me and Tony know so we can start preparing the right containment,” he requested.
“You want to keep it here?” Natasha and Wanda said at once.
“S.H.I.E.L.D is no more equipped to deal with aliens than we are, so why not?” It was something Natasha hadn’t even considered, though she had only heard about it half an hour ago, but she knew it made sense to keep the creature in the tower, even if it did unnerve her to think about.
“We don’t even know if this thing is still alive,” Natasha pointed out before she allowed any of them to get too carried away. “You heard Rogers, the only reason we’re looking into it now is because of rumours an agent heard on their undercover mission.”
Aside from the rumours that a creature was being kept by the lesser known bio-company, the photos of an aftermath from a gruesome attack were the only pieces of information the agent had been able to gather due to that not being the sole purpose of their mission. They were undercover in one of the major rising crime rings in the country and had found a connection to the bio-company. There was no concrete evidence for any of it, but even the chance of the intel being legitimate meant that it needed the Avenger’s attention.
“It might not even be real,” Natasha stated. Bruce and Wanda nodded, though all three knew it would be useful to prepare.
By that evening, the Russian redhead had gathered enough intel to work with. She hadn’t made any attempts to speak to the sketchy organisation regarding the alien they might be holding, understanding that there wouldn’t be any transparency on that topic, but she had found a location and a way in. There was only one holding base that they kept so far off of the records that the spy had to call around numerous contacts to even find the start of the trail until she followed it back. If they were keeping a creature from another world, it would be there.
The other issue the spy faced was entry. Sure, the team could storm the place, but on what grounds? What if they couldn’t find anything? What if she was wrong? The legal consequences would be endless and it would give the government more ammunition to attempt to take control over the Avengers as they were always searching to do. Instead, Natasha planned to play the ‘random inspection’ card and thought it would be a good chance to bring Wanda along so that the Sokovian could attain the undercover skills she had been asking for.
The spy finished up her paperwork, requested the necessary team and prepared for the following day, unsure of what exactly they would find.
~
It was unusual for the bear man to appear when you were being handled. Apparently it meant your medication was being altered, according to him, and it allowed your mind to open more windows for him to slip through and cause problems. You despised how isolated you were in your room, and yet it somehow felt even more lonesome when he was there because you knew he was merely a figment of your desperate imagination. He was your mind’s attempt to ease the pain and in doing so only made you aware of how much of your sanity was falling through your grasp.
“How can you just sit there and let her do that?” The bear man said, watching on as your handler roughly manoeuvred your limbs into the white strapped jacket that clung to your frame. You didn’t have the strength, and hardly the feeling, to help her position your body right. None of them were ever gentle, as evident by the purple blemishes that littered your skin.
“Do something,” the man instructed. “Do something!” He yelled far too loud. You squeezed your eyes shut but that did nothing to block out the endless orders he barked at you. With your hands entrapped between your torso and jacket, you had no way of even attempting the dull the screaming that brutally crashed down on you.
“Go ‘way,” you pleaded, just barely loud enough for the woman handling you to understand.
“What’d you say to me?” Your handler spat, giving you no chance to muster the strength for a response because she was shoving you forwards until your face collided with the unforgiving floor. She wasted no time in placing a heavy boot into the middle of your back to force you down until your body twisted unnaturally in the straightjacket. “You think I want to be in here with you, freak?” She continued in a way you had heard countless times before. “Little fucker,” she hissed, lifting her boot only to bring it straight back down on your head. Your body was numb enough to take the blunt of the force, but you still registered the sickening crack of your skull hitting the floor.
You were left more disorientated than you had been prior to your handler’s arrival, unsurprisingly. Still, you didn’t cry or scream or feel sorry for yourself, you just laid in the relief that the bear man was gone for the time being.
~
“It’s just that we weren’t expecting anyone,” the manager muttered as he looked at the two heroes sceptically.
“Again, that’s the point,” Natasha said firmly, allowing herself to become irritated by the third person they were talking to in twenty minutes. “Now I can have my boss take time out of his busy schedule to phone your boss to ask why you’re still making us waste our time by standing out here, or you can let us do our job,” she continued with a glare that was enough to make the sweating man back down.
“Okay, okay,” he stumbled out of the way to let the pair in despite the security guard eyeing them with lingering (and well placed) suspicion. “Eugine here will give you the tour.” He shifted uncomfortably to stand behind his subordinates. “My apologies,” he added before scurrying away to let Eugine take over.
“Right this way,” he beckoned and wasted no time taking Natasha and Wanda through the first corridor, most likely with the intention of getting the tour over and done with as soon as possible. Neither complained when Eugine rushed them down one hallway and towards another, simply making notes that they had no use for and pretending to be interested in what little information they were given. It would all be recited again once they had access to the main database.
Once all three passed by an empty office, Natasha and Wanda exchanged a glance that wasn’t difficult to conceal with Eugine paying as little attention to them as possible. “If you could excuse me for a moment,” Natasha said politely as they passed by the women’s washroom. Their tour guide looked to the redhead irritably but she was already making her way inside. After checking that she was alone, Natasha opened up the vents above the sink and swiftly made her way inside to follow the lesser used route back to the office they had passed. It was still empty, but Natasha worked under the assumption that anyone could return at a moment’s notice.
“Bruce? You there?” The Russian asked as she withdrew the unique USB drive that would send any files straight back to the tower.
“Ready and waiting,” he spoke into her comns.
Given how paranoid the bio-company was, it took Natasha some time to gain access to their files while Wanda kept Eugine in place. He, of course, wasn’t happy to be kept waiting, but one subtle comment from Wanda about ‘that time of the month’ silenced any further complaints. She could always resort to her powers if necessary, however she knew there was some importance in learning to navigate missions without them.
“Got it!” Bruce called. Natasha made quick work of covering her tracks as she left the office the way she had come, though this time she didn’t return to the washroom and kept going as per Bruce’s instructions as he guided her through the building towards a room on the building map labelled ‘containment’. There was nowhere else in the building that held any similar labels and the pair agreed it was their best bet. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any vent leading directly into the room due to the obsessive security for it, something else Bruce was tasked with handling.
“A little overkill, don’t you think?” Natasha quipped in an effort to conceal her nerves. If she didn’t know any better, Natasha would have assumed the door in front of her was for a vault of some kind. It was made from what she could only assume was several layers of reinforced steel and a series of locks across the entire perimeter. Whatever was inside clearly wasn’t meant to get out and while it raised obvious concerns over why the bio-company was keeping such a beast, it was also a bad idea for Natasha to enter alone.
“I can’t access the camera footage inside. Nat, you can’t go in blind, we have no idea what’s in there,” the scientist warned.
“I handle you just fine, Banner,” she continued as she eyed the door.
“I’m serious, Nat.”
“So am I. Look, we have no solid proof that they’re keeping anything behind this door so we can’t call the team in for backup, just like we also can’t get Captain America or Iron Man to come undercover here next time. We deal with this now or we let it kick us in the ass later,” Natasha explained firmly, adamant on not leaving the building anytime soon.
“She’s right,” Wanda agreed though instead of her voice coming through the device in Natasha’s ear, the Sokovian appeared by her side with Eugine trailing behind her with a red glaze over his eyes. She looked at her partner sheepishly, knowing she was meant to be avoiding using her powers. “And if you could open this now before security comes,” she added. The pair heard Bruce sigh and grumble a defeated ‘yes’ as he worked on disabling the locks.
“You ready?” Natasha asked her partner as her widow bites began to emit a faint blue as she held them up once the locks began to unravel.
“Sure,” Wanda winced as she produced a swirling red sphere between her hands and stared straight ahead. “We’re long overdue for a fight with an alien.”
Several short bursts of steam escaped from the main locks on the left hand side of the door until an obnoxious ‘thud’ indicated Pandora's box was ready to be pried open. A red glow encapsulated the door as Wanda steadily pulled it open in its entirety, revealing the contents of which neither had expected to find. They shared a stunned glance momentarily and each lowered their respective weapons.
“Is that…?” Wanda trailed off as she assessed the sight of you slumped against the fall wall with only a trace of consciousness behind your eyes.
“Guys? What is it?” Bruce called out.
“It’s a kid,” Natasha stated.
“No,” Wanda said as she took the first step towards you. You didn’t seem to have registered their presence. “She might have come in as a kid, but she’s not anymore.” Wanda crouched down in front of you as Natasha stood back to observe and keep watch, snapping herself out of the initial shock and back to the mission at hand. “Hey,” the Sokovian greeted, eyeing the thick collar around your neck warrily.
“Wanda,” Natasha warned, unnerved by the whole ordeal that didn’t make any logical sense.
“It’s okay,” Wanda assured as she noted the straight jacket you were concealed in and raised a steady hand to your head where a red mist covered your eyes to simply peek at your condition. “She’s sedated,” Wanda stated. “Let’s get her out.” She didn’t leave any room for discussion as the red whisps fully enveloped your frame and lifted you off of the floor. Natasha didn’t object, dutifully leading the way as she pushed all questions to the back of her mind. They could wait. They had to, because they were about to meet the swat team responsible for your entrapment.
“I need the quinjet here, now!” Natasha ordered as she shot at the first few to clear the way all while Bruce tried to direct the trio as best he could. He had no idea which way the swat teams were coming from, he could only direct them to the quickest exit and unlock every door between them.
Wanda tried to aid in disarming and throwing those that followed them, but she needed to keep most of her attention on ensuring that you stayed safe and between them so that the entire mission wasn’t for nothing. Fortunately, Natasha had taken on more opponents than that before and shot anyone that came too close with a prision to they couldn’t rival until they made it through the nearest fire exit. The quinjet was hovering a few yards away with its loading door open, unable to land because of the rest of the swat team shooting wildly and not paying attention to the Avengers behind them. They went down in an instant and Wanda propelled all three of you off the ground and into the jet.
It was difficult for you to understand what exactly had just happened, but you were aware that you were no longer staring at the same four walls that you had been for… well you had no idea how long. With the drugs in your system, all voices and sounds seemed far away and muffled just as everything you could see was incredibly blurred beyond recognition. You had no idea where you currently sat, nor could you identify the figure that was pulling a seatbelt across you as the walls and ground began to shake. You didn’t allow yourself to be hopeful that what was to come would be any better, especially when the bulky collar around your neck woke up and sent an onslaught of electricity through your body.
If you weren’t so sedated, you would have screamed, begged, wailed at the intense pain that struck you. Instead, all you could do was silently cry though it was immediately clear what was happening to the two Avengers when the collar blinked red and your body convulse in response. You gasped, finding it suddenly impossible to breathe until the heavy device was ripped from your burning neck by Wanda’s powers on impulse.
“Shit, it must have been set off by us leaving,” Natasha theorised as the pair inspected the scarred and freshly burnt rings around your neck.
“You think there could be anything else under there?” Wanda asked as she motioned to the jacket covering your body. Natasha didn’t get the chance to answer before Steve’s voice cut in.
“Once you get here we’ll take her to the hulk’s containment room,” Steve informed from the speakers on the jet.
“She’s going to medical,” Natasha corrected at once as she watched you slump in the seat helplessly. Your eyes were still half open, but she could tell you could make no sense of what was around you.
“We have to be careful,” Bruce added. “I of all people know that being locked up is intimidating, but it can also be the best solution.”
“So you want to keep her the same way they did?” Wanda objected, not believing what she was hearing.
“Just until we can get some blood samples and understand-”
“You saw what just happened,” Natasha snapped, glaring straight at the camera in the corner of the jet that she knew Steve was watching. “She’s in a straight jacket and collar while sedated. She’s going to medical,” she finalised. There was a heavy silence for several moments before Steve spoke again.
“Medical first, then the containment room,” he compromised.
“Look at her, she's barely conscious,” Wanda stated to the camera. “What are you so afraid of?”
