Conk

Dozens of NYC Subway riders, fresh off a Robyn concert, singing “Dancing On My Own” while waiting for the E train. (Video by Triszh Hermogenes) 

Staring is Bad

Pairing: Professor!Natasha Romanoff x Student!Reader

Summary: you have a thing for your English Literature professor and it doesn’t help that she’s the kind of person to notice

Warning: cursing, flirting from Nat, mentioned porno title but thats it

A/N: … because yes? HAHAHAHA this is the flirting story I was talking about so I really hope you guys like this short one!! (Someone pls flirt with me so i know whats like ;;-;;)

“Y/N?” Your best friend asks as she waves her hand in front of your dazed face while the other students are starting to file in.

You sigh dreamily as you continue to stare at your English Lit prof from the farthest part of the huge lecture room. “She’s so pretty”

As a third year university student taking up Mechanical Engineering, you were given the chance to pick any elective of your choice. Your best friend is an English major so you both thought it would be fun to try and take a class together, resulting to your best friend choosing E104.

This class specifically is notoriously known for always having its slots full before 10 minutes are up so its an absolute miracle you both managed to get in. You remembering judging the class because why would a class have that much slots yet still get filled up, and well you immediately shut up the moment you entered the room to see Ms. Natasha Romanoff writing her name on perfect cursive on the blackboard.

Your best friend rolls her eyes at you as she sits besides you, taking out her notebook and pen for class. “I’m starting to regret this honestly”

“Come on” you tease as you look at her with your chin on the palm of your hand. “You love me, and it’s not my fault you’re in a relationship with a boy for 5 years and counting. Cut me some slack here”

“Keep it in your pants then because I want to pass this class without getting in trouble okay?” She chuckles softly as she pokes your cheek with the cap end of her pen. “Now focus, class is about to start”

You smirk back at your friend as Nat turns to face the lecture hall of 100 students with a smile. “Good afternoon everyone and welcome to English Lit”

She puts the chalk down onto the chalk ledge and grabs a book from her table as she walks to the front of her desk, leaning back slightly to half sit. “We will be discussing The Fall of Icarus, has anyone read the book before?”

Around 10-15 students raises their hands before Nat nods her head to signal the students to lower their hands. You start to zone out as you stare at Nat, appreciating how good she looks in a nice and crisp white button down, tucked into her black slacks that accentuates the length of her legs and shows off the black pumps. She’s wearing the kind of blazer that drapes over her shoulders with 2 slits, one on each arm, making it look like those cape-like blazers and it exerts professionalism but some kind of sexiness in return. Her red ruby lips moving as she continuous on with the lecture and her hair framing her face as if she’s the kindest and smartest person in the world.

You unconsciously sigh dreamily as you melt further into your seat, making your best friend roll her eyes fondly at you with a soft chuckle. Before she could nudge you to bring your focus back, it seems like Ms. Romanoff noticed as well.

“You there at the farthest row, the mechanical engineering major” she starts as her booming voice takes you back to earth, your eyes widening slightly as you straighten your posture and clearing your throat slightly. “What is your take on the symbolism of the story?”

You jump at Nat’s voice and quickly look at your best friend for help who slightly raises her hands, just barely off the table, surrendering. You sigh in defeat as you quickly glance at the blackboard to see the title of the book, silently thanking God that you know a little bit of something on this book thank you hamilton.

“Well for me” you start as you start fiddling with your pen. “When Icarus and his father made their escape out of Sicily with the warning of not flying too close to the sun due to the material used for the wings, you can possibly apply it in a relationship”

You lost your train of thought when your eyes meet your professor’s, suddenly realizing the shade of green it holds and the unexpected presence of emotions it has. Nat smiles before mouthing ‘go on’ the moment she noticed you stopped causing you to blush slightly.

You shake your head and continue on. “Anyway so in the case of Icarus, he’s shown to be the kind to have dreams and aspirations while his father would bring him back to earth where reality is. In a relationship, you can’t always have your head in the clouds and daydream so in a way, you can’t fall in love with the concept of love brought around by media or literature in this case, but fall in love with what you have on earth at that moment or else you’d fly too close to the sun”

A few moments of silence pass, your heart racing at the sudden anxiety of you fucking things over. As you’re about to quietly ask your best friend if you did mess up, your professor suddenly claps her hands with a smile on her face.

“You seem to be quite insightful with literature for a mechanical engineering major” she teases causing the class to laugh as you blush profusely.

“But, I appreciate that so thank you Ms…” she trails off as she raises an eyebrow for you to continue her sentence. You smile shyly as you introduce yourself by your full name.

“Right, Ms. Y/N” she starts as she puts the book down onto the table. “So as what Y/N has mentioned, Icarus’ character is the kind of character to fantasize, daydream even”

She continues on with the lecture as you finally let out a sigh of relief while your best friend besides you pats your thigh with a mischievous grin. “She totally noticed you staring at her”

You roll your eyes at her, nudging her by the shoulder as she gasps just loud enough before profusely saying her apologies as the students nearby stare at the both of you. You grin in victory before looking back at the lecture, placing your chin back onto the palm of your hand with your elbow resting onto your table as you stare at your absolutely gorgeous professor once again with a happy look.

“She’s so pretty”

A month into the semester and this is totally your favorite class. Things has been going really well considering you haven’t been caught ogling at your hot professor even though you’re probably very obvious at it.

She’s currently walking up and down the aisles of the lecture hall, her sleeves of her very professional looking blouse rolled up to her elbow making your heart race at how infatuated you are for her. Since the lecture will go on for a few more minutes, your restless self decided to start daydreaming. You would look out of the window, stare outside for a bit then look back at Nat but would catch her eyes for a few moments before looking away. You couldn’t help but tilt your head slightly, curious and even intrigued.

“I wonder if she can read minds of her students” you thought as a joke, a quirk on the corner of your lips thats a concealed smirk as you try to not laugh at how stupid it is.

“If you can hear my thoughts, say something” you thought in your mind jokingly. Surely Nat of all people wouldn’t… right?

Lo and behold, Nat suddenly walks up to your aisle as she calls for another student to do their recitation. She ends up standing by the empty seat besides you where your bag is currently sitting on, leaning over slightly so only you could hear what she has to say.

“Has your mother ever taught you that staring is bad?” She stands back up after a quick wink and acknowledges the answer of the student as she walks back down.

Your jaw just drops as your entire face pales at being caught, your best friend besides you trying her absolute hardest to not burst out laughing but still couldn’t contain her laughter causing her to shove her head into her arms so she muffle her laughs.

“No fucking way” you mumble to yourself as your best friend lifts her head off her desk, the biggest smirk present on her lips.

“She totally noticed” a smug grin forms on her lips after you playfully hit her arm while a blush forms on your cheeks.

“Alright class” Nat says as she stands by her desk while the other students start to pack up. “Don’t forget to turn in your essays about your chosen book next week. See you then! Oh and Ms. Y/N, please stay”

That made your friend burst out laughing as you quickly tackle her and mumble shut up frantically. You sigh in defeat as she bids you goodbye, leaving you and Nat alone. Dread starts to fill you entire being as you walk closer and closer to Nat, eventually standing by her desk as she bids farewell to the last student who stayed back for a question. The click of the door closing echos throughout the room, as if it was sealing the fate of whatever were to happen next.

“Ms. Y/N” Nat says, acknowledging you as she walks back, standing in front of you. You notice the heigh difference between the both of you where Nat absolutely towers you because of her monster heels. You swallow deeply as you start to fiddle with the end of your sweater.

“A-am I in trouble Ms. Romanoff?” You wince slightly at your stuttering, but also because this sounds like the start of a horrible porno. Nat leans against the edge of her table with a smirk on her lips.

“Do I make you nervous, Ms. Y/N?” She asks with a cocky tilt on the head making you narrow your eyes slightly at the older woman. Her smirks widen at that. “You’re not in trouble, but I’m sure you have a question for me based on the look you gave me earlier”

You blush furiously at that as you run a hand through your hair. “W-well yea, how did you know what I was thinking?”

Nat stands up and you can just smell the perfume she’s wearing, the coffee and caramel lingering in your personal space as you think ‘oh god this is the start of that weird porno, the Student gets fucked by her Professor kind’. She gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, causing your eyes to snap at her as she gets your attention.

“It’s written all over your face in every class, that’s why you should take this” she says as she hands you her sleek black business with her name and number on the front. “And call me, alright? You’re an adult, right darling?”

Your eyes widen as big as saucers at the nickname as a little squeak uncontrollably goes up your throat and out of your mouth. You quickly cover your mouth as you nod frantically.

She smirks at the power she has over you. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you against her as she tucks her hands into your back pockets. You feel your face heat up at the feeling of Nat’s hands indirectly against your bottom, the motion of Nat pulling you against her caused you to place your hands against her chest as you don’t go slamming against her. Nat leans down as she’s leaning into your ear, whispering softly and in almost in a seductive matter.

“I’ll see you in class, Ms. Y/N” she pulls back from you completely before you could do anything and you just feel your heart beat against your chest frantically as you stare back in a dazed look, wondering what the fuck just happened. However, you nod back before waving and grabbing your bag to leave.

As you leave, you suddenly noticed the weird feeling of something bunched up in your back pocket since you normally don’t put anything there. As you walk, you slip your hand in and feel a bunched up piece of paper. Taking it out, you open it and immediately stop your tracks as your eyes widen while reading the note.

“8 pm, my office. Don’t be late, darling”

I love ur

I love ur too lols 😎/j

🌻Meditating🍃

Stony bingo submission for breath! Mcu stony being coerced by Nat to solve their anger issues and just their issues with each other in general through ~meditation~

Seera-Li Marvel Masterlist

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Natasha Romanoff

Show Mommy What You Got  NS*FW

Natasha your mommy, decides that you look stunning in lingerie she chose on a vacation in Amsterdam and decides to do something about it.

Warnings: Mommy Kink, WLW sex, implied age gap, reader has a pus*sy, reader wears a bra + panties, no pronouns are used for reader, edging, fingering, clitoral play, Natasha romanoff is referred to as Mommy multiple times, reader is called a sweet thing, Kotenok and sweet heart, author has no clue what Amsterdam is like

At Her Altar, As Her Worship Fluffy

Ever since your turning you have been succumbing to the cold. Your faithful mentor and vampiric 'mother,' Natasha would never allow it to happen.

Warnings: General blood themes because of vampires, Natasha gets bitten consentually on the breast by reader, reader drinks breast milk and blood, reader sucks on Natasha's breasts, no pronouns are used for reader, reader gets called little love

Speak up baby NS*FW

Mommy decides to test your limits. It will of course, be fun for you.

Or

Natasha fucks you until you cry.

Warnings: Heavy general NS*FW themes, presumed mutual consent, presumed safe word, mommy kink, use of a vibrator on reader, use of a strap on- on reader, use of bondage (ropes) on reader, reader gets breasts played with, overstimulation, reader gets manhandled by Natasha, reader cries from pleasure and overstim, mentioned edging, reader begs to stop, clitoral and gspot over stimulation, reader sucks on Natasha's breasts, multiple orgasms, reader gets called a sl*ut, sweet heart, baby and kotenok, Natasha gets called mommy once, no pronouns are used for reader, reader has a pus*sy and breasts

Naughty girls NS*FW

You and your mommy, Natasha, have some fun during movie time. Until you misbehave.

Mommy kink, man handling, se*x toy usage (dildo), implied age gap, reader gets penetrated, vaginal penetration, coc*k warming, grinding, thigh riding, sex with clothes on, WLW sex, Natasha gives reader neck hickies, Reader gets called puppy, baby, honey and little girl, reader comes without permission, implied mutual consent, degradation, squirting, light begging, implied punishment, reader misbehaves, implied rules

To be continued...

What about..,,, college professor Nat who wears those fancy blazers with dress pants and has this amazing expensive cologne :) She gives you these dirty flirtatious looks during class...🥰

i just saw this babes i’m so fucking sorry 😭 but ur right, college professor nat would be the type to smell like sexy, expensive perfume, you know it’s expensive cuz you probably told her she smelled good and she told you what it was... she’s so sexy, alluring, and she loves picking on you because she adores how you flush in embarrassment

MY LITTLE MEOW MEOW 💌

OPF request, natasha braiding R's hair after a shower together with some discussion about their past during the braiding? Also some of the head lean backward, pulling on braid for a kiss please :) If you'd like (I would also love it) the showering scene with them both being dumb and nearly getting soap in their eyes or something lmao

yesssssss, this is beautiful!

| natasha x fem!reader | only pretty faces |

warnings: mentions of death

You hear Natalia switch the shower on, the water thundering through the pipes, and you slip out of bed and pad down the corridor to the bathroom. Still no lock on the door: you push it open with your fingertips and inhale the steam that billows out. You step in and shut the door with a click behind you: Natalia’s shadow twists in the shower.

“Hey,” she says, from behind the half-drawn shower curtain. “You scared me.”

You pull your clothes off, let them crumple in a pile next to hers, and tie your hair back.

“I’m not scary,” you say. You lift a leg over the lip of the bath and step into the spray: it’s hot and forceful. Natalia reaches for you, grabs your elbows and pulls you closer. She kisses you, her face warm and wet. Her hair is soaked down, soap bubbles drifting off her shoulders - you reach out and smooth them away with your palm.

“No,” she says. She runs her fingers over your eyebrows, dripping water into your eyes.  “You’re not. You’re cute.”

You pull an awful face at her, but you don’t draw away. Eventually, she smiles at you, kisses you again with that smile still on her face.

“Want me to wash your hair?” she asks, palms flat against your sternum. 

“Yes,” you say. You push your forehead against the strong bridge of her nose. She presses her lips to the space between your eyebrows. “Let me sit down. It’s early.” She laughs.

“Okay.” She presses lightly on your shoulders and you go willingly, sinking to the floor of the bathtub. You trace her thighs with your fingers as you drop, and then you twist so your back is to her, your knees up to your chest. The spray of water is rapidly wetting your hair. Natalia tugs it gently out of its hair tie and digs her fingers into it, sorting through the snarls and knots. Then she sits behind you, lays her legs out alongside yours, and starts the wash.

Her hands are strong and steady, lulling you back into a steady doze. You lay against her chest, allowing her to enclose you, less like a cage and more like a shield against the wide white wall behind the two of you.

Each cycle of the wash is gentle and thorough. You must sit there for at least an hour, but she doesn’t complain of wasting the day or sitting in discomfort in half an inch of warm water. This intimacy is strange, close and naked but not sexual, easy in a way that makes you want to sink into her, crack her open and climb inside. You grip her legs to ground yourself from those images.

Natalia’s hands paused in your hair. “You good?” she asks. The spray beats down on your shoulders

“Good,” you say. You squeeze her knees playfully and in retaliation, she smears bubbles over your cheeks.

“Idiot,” she says, affectionately. You lay your head back on her shoulder and she grins down at you.

“You’re dripping soap in my eye,” you say, blinking rapidly. Your eye begins to burn.

“Oh, God,” Natalia says, sticking her hands into the shower stream quickly to rinse them off. “Sorry, sorry-” She cups her palms and splashes water over your face, too much, and it goes spilling into your mouth and up your nostrils. You splutter, scrambling up into a sitting position and scrubbing at your face. Behind you, Natalia begins to giggle in between her apologies. You twist and spit a stream of water in her face.

When the two of you step out, washed and scrubbed pink and breathing hard from your little water fight, Natalia grabs her towel. You tug it out of her hands. She raises her eyebrows at you quizzically.

The words almost stick in your throat. “Let me,” you say. Natalia hesitates - hesitates like she never does - and you grip the towel, so fearful of her withdrawal.

“Okay,” she says. You nod.

You dry her, feet first, then shins and strong calves and thighs, and as you progress, she watches you carefully. Observes you like she’s learning. You dry her stomach, her ribs, her spine, pausing to touch the rise of muscle beneath her skin. You keep your touch deliberately gentle. Her shoulders lose their tension when you wipe the water from her collarbones.

“Done,” you say, and you fold the towel over the rail and step away. She’s watching you still, hands in fists by her side. She seems to shiver, and you crouch to pick up her fresh clothes and offer them to her. She takes them, but doesn’t put them on, rather holds them out in front of her as if she’s afraid they contain a spider or a venomous snake. “Nata,” you say. Her eyes are wet. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she says faintly. “I-” she cuts off her words and stares down quickly at her feet. “Nothing’s wrong. That was sweet. That’s all.”

Those words break your odd little trance, shrugging off the moment like a gossamer layer. You grab your t-shirt and pull it on over your head, your hair dampening the collar.

“Do you want cereal?” you ask, moving past her out of the bathroom door. 

It seems an age before she answers. “Yes,” she replies, her voice soft, frail like an icicle.

● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● 

You fix her cereal for her and by the time she’s dressed and wandered through the door of the kitchen, your hair has dried in tangles down your back. She surveys it instead of your face.

“Do you want me to braid it?” she asks, without making eye contact. You shove her bowl towards her and she sinks into a chair, receiving it with both hands. “You remember? We used to braid-”

“I remember,” you say. “I remember most of it.” That’s not at all true. You remember gentle fingers in your hair, your own hands fumbling through soft red and black and blonde locks. You also remember the snap of a neck in your hands, the dead stare of a little girl with her hair still in braids, fresh from the night before. And you remember pain and pain and pain.

Natalia lifts her spoon to her mouth.

You chew meditatively on your toast. You want her legs around your hips again, your head on her shoulder. You want to lie against her, within her, forever. “I’d like that,” you say. 

She smiles at you, relief dawning on her face.

She sits you down on the floor in the living room and switches the TV on. The punch bag is laid underneath the window like a sedan. Then she sits behind you, knees around your shoulders with a comb and a hairbrush and bends your hair to her will.

Natalia is gentle with you: always gentle. She pulls knots apart with her fingers, brushes your temple with her knuckles. 

“I remember this,” you tell her, and her hands still in the half-done braid. The TV twitters on. “This was one of the good memories.”

“One of the only ones,” she says softly. She carries on, twists and turns, locking your hair into itself. “You really remember this?”

“Only the concept,” you say. That at least is true: the braids are your memory, not the hands that made them, not the faces they framed.

“I braided your hair,” Natalia says, after a long pause. Far too casual. “You wouldn’t let anyone else touch it. Except for Kira.”

“Except for Kira,” you echo. You don’t remember Kira. You don’t want to ask: some sickening part of you imagines broken bones and blood in the snow. Natalia finishes the plait and gathers up the rest of your hair.

She pauses.

She tugs lightly on your hair and you tip your head back obediently, until your crown is in her lap and she’s staring down at you. Your neck stretches and strains.

Natalia leans down and kisses you, a touch more like a steal. You reach as far as you can to kiss her again, but she withdraws and pushes your head back up.

Her fingers card gently through your remaining hair, gathering three strands. “You don’t have to remember if you don’t want to,” she says quietly. “God knows I’d rather be ignorant.”

“I’m not ignorant,” you reply. You watch the TV move and flicker with dazed eyes. “I remember the pain. I remember that I don’t want to go back. Anymore.” You’ve dragged yourself from the mud: no, she did. She rescued you.

“I know,” Natalia says. She strokes your cheek with her thumb and you lean into her touch. “I’m grateful for you.”

requests | masterlist

taglist: @when-wolves-howl @fayhar @maggieromanov @transbi-spidey @romanoffscottage @blackxwidowsxwife @lizlil @screechcat @maddess @mellxa @haeva @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @vicmc624 @strangegardentaco @phantomvael @lorsstar1st @rysnwilder @ima-gi–na-tion @paryl @picnicmic  @smallestavenger @lainjupi   @d1s0nym @simpforflorencepugh1 @the-v01d @kqmui @s1ut4nat @btay3115

notes: listen guys, I am so unmotivated right now. I’m so close to finishing TPTF and I’m so frustrated about this but here’s a little thing to keep you hooked. (also I linked my ko-fi in my bio if you felt like giving me money UNRELATED to fic writing because I am NOT MAKING MONEY OFF this, okay marvel?)

The Fairytale Falls Apart AU

Summary: It’s not that you don’t see the red flags. You just choose to ignore them. 

a/n: loosely going off of this.

18+! Minors DNI!

Intro coming soon

The Fairytale Falls Apart

Settle Down

A Peaceful Death // N.R

Warning(s): implied sexual content, cursing, graphic depictions of injuries, major character death, reader can heal herself. MINORS DNI 18+

It had been two weeks since you, and Wanda had been sent on a mission. It was a simple mission to clear out a HYDRA base, that had been mostly abandoned prior to anyways. A simple in, and out mission, with no blood on anyone’s hands.

Vision had been itching to see Wanda again, and had even pressured the team into a sweet welcome home party for the both of you. He had even made Wanda’s favorite Sokovian dishes to spread out.

Now, the team sat around the common room waiting for the arrival of the two most important people for this party.

Natasha sat on the couch, nursing a beer in her hand as she watched whatever mindless sitcom Pietro had decided to watch. He made stupid comments about how this show was Wanda’s favorite, and that he only watched it for her entertainment. She would just chuckle at his nonchalant attitude, as he continued to soak up the show in front of him.

“You look good tonight.” Carol whispered over her shoulder, as she leaned over the back of the couch. She noticed the smirk across Natasha’s face as she tried to cover it up by taking a pull from her beer. “You mind letting me take it off of you later? It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me.”

Natasha shook her head at Carol’s forward words, but swept a glance across the room to see if anyone else had listened in on their conversation. Everyone seemed to be lost in their own conversations, but she still decided against responding.

Her mind traveled back to the conversation she had shared with Wanda before her departure with you, and it made her fingers clench around the glass bottle just a little too tight.

Natasha couldn’t sleep, and Wanda had caught her sneaking from Carol’s room in the early hours of the morning as she was prepping for the mission. Wanda hadn’t commented on what she saw, but Natasha knew the pieces had fallen together within the witch’s brain.

“Natasha.” Wanda said, breaking the tense silence that had settled between the two. “I can not keep your secret anymore.”

Natasha refused to answer as she soaked in the implications of Wanda’s words. She knew Wanda had caught her, but hearing it out loud was like a punch to the gut.

“Do not tell her.” We’re the only words Natasha could mutter out as her fists clenched so tight her knuckles had began to turn white.

“Does she even know you’re awake?” Wanda asked as she moved to the kitchen, knowing Natasha was hot on her heels. “Or is she still quietly sneaking around a dark room so she doesn’t wake you up for her mission prep?”

Those words stung Natasha to the core, knowing that was probably exactly what you had been doing. You were always so caring, knowing Natasha had raging insomnia to the point you’d waste hours trying to remain silent as you moved around the room doing prep work that should normally take minutes. You’d do anything to allow Natasha more time to sleep.

“You know she loves you.” Wanda added, only adding more salt to the wound she had opened within Natasha. “So, why do you do this to her?”

Natasha didn’t respond. She didn’t know how to voice the neglectful feeling in her gut telling her that sleeping with Carol behind your back had been so wrong. How does she tell Wanda that she felt she never deserved a love like the one you had offered her? Sleeping with Carol was different, Carol had just used Natasha as a play toy just to kick her out minutes after they had finished. Shit, sometimes Natasha didn’t even finish.

Carol was just a stupid asshole who used her for her body, and nothing more.

But with you, you treated Natasha as if she was a goddess, and you were the priestess who dedicated your life to praising every single curve of her body. Your eyes shined with so much love for Natasha, and every time she’d see you smile her chest would swell to the point of suffocation. You were just so caring, and so gorgeous to the point Natasha looked into your eyes, and felt she was undeserving of anything you offered to her.

“If you have not ended this little escapade with Carol by the time our two weeks is over, I’m going to tell her myself.” Wanda said.

Natasha felt herself tense at the threat, but she knew it was a necessary evil if this situation with Carol was ever going to end.

Wanda had been finished in the kitchen awhile ago, but Natasha knew Wanda was going to sit here berate her until she felt Natasha had been tortured enough. Natasha took it once again, knowing it was simply the parameters of getting caught by your best friend. She just hoped Wanda would have enough sympathy to go somewhat easy on her.

“I’ve known about this for awhile, but it’s disgusting to have it confirmed that this is actually the reality of the situation.” Wanda said.

Well there goes Natasha’s hope for Wanda to go easy. It was a stupid hope to begin with, she guessed.

“I just thought that maybe you felt tied down, and just let your mind wander a little bit.” Wanda said, her jaw was so tense Natasha was afraid she’d start breaking teeth. “But when you and Carol are together, your thoughts are just so loud. Do you know how tired I am of hearing Carol’s thoughts about how desperately she wants to be knuckle deep inside of you?”

So that’s why Wanda stopped coming to anything that involved Natasha, and Carol.

“At least you had the decency to not think about it when your girlfriend was around.” Wanda said. Natasha didn’t like the way she emphasized girlfriend.

Finally, what seemed like hours of Wanda torturing Natasha with her sharpened words, she pulled her bag over her shoulder.

“We have to get going, but remember what I said.” Wanda finished with a glare, before stomping out of the kitchen to join you on the quinjet.

After she was left alone with her thoughts, Natasha found herself staring into the bottom of three wine bottles. It was the expensive kind, the ones Tony bought to savor for precious moments the team shared. She didn’t bother to taste them, but rather to drink them as fast as her body allowed.

Then, she found herself stumbling back into your shared bedroom, all too keen on the smell of Carol against her skin.

Natasha was jostled from her thoughts the moment Steve spoke up, announcing that the quinjet had just landed. She stood up from the couch, noticing Carol come to stand next to her.

When their arms brushed together, Natasha couldn’t quell the painful burning that ran itself across her skin. She simply decided to step away, and out toward the landing zone.

“Somebody get medical!” Natasha heard Bruce as she stepped outside, noticing Sam and Bucky rush past her to renter the compound.

The sight before Natasha stopped her in her tracks. Wanda was in obvious shock as she stumbled from the quinjet covered in blood, that was presumably not her own. Tear tracks stained her cheeks, but had long been dried as shock began its heavy grip upon her.

Steve rushed past Wanda, as Vision moved to collect the woman in his arms. She fell into him weakly, her hands trembled as she gripped into him as though he was the only thing left in this world. She began to sob into his chest, the broken kind of cry that shook the core of the Avengers around to hear it.

“What’s going on?” Carol asked from next to Natasha, voicing the concern that Natasha currently could not. Bruce rushed past them, barely taking time to acknowledge they had even been standing there in the first place.

“She’s not healing.” He had told them, before rushing off back to the jet. His words had caused Natasha’s nerves to singe against her skin, and a suffocating lump to form in her throat.

What did he mean you weren’t healing? Denial began to bubble up within Natasha, as she ran to catch up with Bruce.

“What do you mean she’s not healing?” Natasha asked. “She’s took a sniper bullet for me, and healed within minutes.”

Natasha then noticed Steve emerging from the quinjet with your mutilated body within his arms, and Natasha felt the world come to a crushing halt. His T-shirt was now caked in your blood as it dripped from the open wounds across your abdomen, and she could barely even stomach the sight of one of your legs being completely gone.

Steve had placed your body on the ground, and Bruce began his examination of your wounds. They were deep, and almost all of your organs had been impaled with shrapnel. He didn’t understand why you hadn’t healed from these wounds, just as Natasha had mentioned, he had seen you take worse and treat it as if it was nothing. Why aren’t you healing now?

“What is going on?” Natasha said, although even her own words had sounded as if she was under water. Her hands trembled as she fell to her knees next to your body, and placed a palm across your chest to feel the shallow rise and fall of your breaths. She brought a hand up to your cheek, noticing how cold it felt under her palm. Natasha hadn’t even noticed she was crying until her tears had began to speckle your face.

“Come on baby, come back to me.” She said, as she struggled to breath. Her hands trailed down to the collar of what was left of your suit, gripping it within her fist in an attempt to ground herself. “God damnit Bruce, why isn’t she healing?”

Bruce opened his mouth to answer, until he was interrupted by a hand gripping aggressively to Natasha’s wrist. She looked up to see Wanda, with blood and tears streaming down her face.

“Get your hands off of her.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, and continued to squeeze mercilessly onto Natasha’s wrist until she was forced to let go.

“Wanda, calm down.” Carol said, as she stepped up behind the two women as they kneeled on the ground. Wanda’s eyes began to flare red as Carol approached, causing her to begin to back away slowly.

“She knew, Natasha. She fucking knew.” Wanda said, turning her attention back Natasha. She hadn’t even let go of her wrist, as her nails began to dig into the soft skin. “She had known about it all along, but she didn’t want to believe it!”

Natasha knew Wanda would’ve continued her barrage of anger, but her sobs consumed her to the point she no longer could speak. Rather, she learned down to place her head against your chest, almost as if she was apologizing to you for not saying anything sooner.

Steve then once again made his presence known, by speaking up as he stood a few feet away from the scene. “What did she know about, Natasha?” He asked, in the all too calm captain tone he used when things got serious.

“Natasha was fucking Carol.” Wanda said after collecting herself just enough to speak the words she knew Natasha wouldn’t. A stiff silence overcame the small group as they stood over your body, trying to consume the fresh information brought to their attention.

“Oh my god.” Bruce said under his breath, as his hands began to work faster to stem the bleeding wounds across your body. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” He began to repeat, almost as if it was a chant or maybe a prayer to God to save you.

Natasha could hear Steve, and Carol fighting just behind them. She could catch various strings of their conversation, like Carol yelling “It’s not like it’s my fucking fault!”

Bruce had been suturing your wounds, before he simply began sobbing himself. “It’s no use.” He said quietly, punching the concrete beneath him to stem the green that had began to grow across his fingers.

“No! What are you doing?” Natasha said quickly, her hands moving to grab his own in an attempt to continue the work he had stopped.

“She told me..” He said, while wiping the tears from his eyes only to smear your own blood across his cheeks.

“She told me the only reason her healing wouldn’t work..” Bruce began, a heavy sob interrupting his sentence before he continued. “That it wouldn’t work if she didn’t want to live.”

A heavy silence fell over the group that it even smothered out the Captain’s fighting, as they just starred at Bruce as he continued to sob. “Nothing is going to work! She’s going to die!” He cried out.

Natasha felt sobs began to tear their way through her chest as she cupped your face within her hands. She stared at your lifeless face for a few moments, hearing herself call out to you. Wanda had stationed herself on the other side of your body, shaking your shoulder as she begged you to wake up.

This can’t be real, Natasha thought. No, this is only a nightmare I haven’t woke up from.

Suddenly, within her hands you began to stir as the tense silence seemed to lessen as everyone was relieved you had began to wake. Your eyes met with Natasha’s wet ones, and before you knew it, her lips were against your cheek as she confessed how much she loved you. That was, until Wanda aggressively pushed her away.

You couldn’t hear anything they had been fighting about, the ringing in your ears had drowned their voices out. You didn’t even feel in control of yourself as your gripped Natasha’s hand against your face, placing a soft kiss upon her palm.

“Please.” You said, your voice sounded raspy, and full of pain. Natasha so desperately wanted to take that pain away, even if she was partially at fault for it all.

“Please, just let me die in peace.”