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blood, betrayal and granola bars PT2

part one Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader W.C: 7.9k Words

The following day you both walked with a renewed energy, snacking on berries that Natalie scavenged and sharing out painkillers from the first aid kit. With the forest sloping downwards, some of the pressure was eased from your aching feet, while the thick snow that invaded your boots thinned out. Still, several times you slipped on the icy surface. Several times Nat laughed at you.

Eventually you reached a river running through the valley, which was flowing beyond its banks, having only recently thawed from the freeze. The water was deeper than usual and moving too fast to swim through. It was the first real obstacle you had encountered on the journey, and yet while Natalie only saw it as something to overcome, you saw opportunity…

“There is no way that’s going to work.” The redhead called down to you. She was sat further away, watching amusedly as you approached the bank. “And if you fall in, I’m not going to save you.”

You grasped securely onto the stick you had found and sharpened with a piece of flint. A rudimentary tool, but one you were proud of assembling. “So, you’ll save me from a bomb but not a river?"

“Not when that river is a series of freezing cold rapids.”

Upstream there was a rock jutting out, impeding the water around it. You decided to head towards it. “Haven’t you ever been to a theme park? The river rapid rides are always the best!” You called back to her.

“Actually, no.”

Momentarily distracted from the task at hand, you turned back to Nat, mouth agape. “You’ve been in America long enough to develop an accent, but not to go to a theme park?”

She shook her head. “In case you haven’t noticed, I live a rather busy life.”

“What? Does SHIELD not give you paid holiday?” Throughout the duration of your time together, you hadn’t really acknowledged each other’s opposing profession, let alone bring it up in conversation.

But it didn’t seem to deter Nat. “And HYDRA does?”

“Actually…” Reluctantly, you tore your gaze away from her, raising the sharpened stick above your head. “Paid days off and health insurance. It’s not a bad deal.”

“In return for what? Committing countless assassinations, orchestrating the great conflicts of the world…”

“That’s not all that different from SHIELD.”

She huffed and paused for a second before speaking. “Maybe not. But as you said, at least SHIELD wasn’t founded on Nazi ideology.”

“Please, HYDRA came from SHIELD. It’s been there from the start- Besides, it’s not like we idealise that side of history.”

“Anymore.”

You glanced back at Natalie and saw the gleam in her eyes. You took a breath, shaking off the mild irritation that had risen within you during the debate, and focused back on your hunt.

A flash of silver swam by, disturbing the riverbed around it. The water clouded for a few seconds as you scanned the space for another glimpse of the fish, then threw the makeshift spear. Nothing. You could already picture Nat saying, “I told you so.”

You bent down to retrieve the spear before it was carried away by the current, the edge of your clothes getting soaked in the process. You shivered, clenching your jaw and trying to ignore the chill that suffused across your entire body.

Another splash of water, you threw the spear again. This time, instead of dirt from the riverbed clouding the water, red liquid did. You pulled the wooden stick out from the river, seeing a fish lodged on the sharp end of it.

“Told you so.” You said smugly,

Natalie was already looking at you, a mix of surprise and impressed. An inexplicable heat rose to your cheeks. Beyond just feeling proud of yourself, you found you enjoyed the way she gazed at you. If you were to ignore the circumstances, the continuous pain inflicting some part of your body and the general state of exhaustion, you couldn’t help but admit that you were enjoying your time with her.

Part of you longed to voice this thought. But instead, you opted to say, “I think it’s your turn to light a fire.”

Unfortunately, your clothes didn’t dry off until the end of the day. You had found a shallower section of the river to cross, yet that didn’t stop the bottom half of you to remain soaking wet. Although being at a lower altitude meant the snow had all but melted away, it did nothing to lessen the cold breeze which ate away at your energy, nor stop snow from lightly falling all around you.

The flakes were just beginning to settle on the ground as the sun started to set. By this point, you were ready to collapse quite literally anywhere when Nat pointed off into the distance.

“There!” She exclaimed. As much as you tried to focus in on where she was pointing, all you saw was a mound of rock sticking out of the forest floor. “Cave.”

Stifling a laugh at her inarticulate explanation, you squinted off into the distance yet were unable to see anything. “I know the last couple days have been tiring, but I still expected you to have more eloquence than a caveman…”

She rolled her eyes at you then began marching over.

You trailed after her, mockingly saying, “Cave- ug. Go.”

But for all you mocked her, there was a section of carved out rock, providing the perfect shelter as the sunset clouded over with the promise of more snow. After a quick once over to confirm no other creatures resided inside, you began to set up for the night. On this occasion, you had a fire lit in no time, both huddling round it and sharing out the food you had gathered throughout the day.

The wind howled outside, whistling through the cave entrance. You couldn’t decide whether it was an eerily beautiful, or unsettling sound. The one thing you were certain of, however, was how thankful you were to have come across shelter. Endless light flurries of snow were being carried by gusts of winds, and you knew that despite their weightless appearance, the impact would sting against your skin like knives.

Shaking off that particular idea, you turned back to the fire, eyes scanning over the orange glow which illuminated every crack and crevice of the rock walls. Your gaze then fell to Natalie, who seemed lost in thought. You took the opportunity to trace over the defined lines of her profile, the strands of red hair that had come loose around her face and the mesmerising green of her eyes.

Despite having been surrounded by greenery the last couple days, you were able to admire the depth of their colour anew, as though you had never seen green meadows or fern forests before. And you were certain that should you never see any natural greenery again, the colour of her irises would be sufficient to replace it.

Suddenly, Nat was looking back at you. She licked her lips. Your eyes traced the subtle movement. Usually, holding her attention made you tense, but not in this case. Not when she was looking at you so openly, so hesitant yet curious. She stared at you as though you were a comforting presence amongst all of this. As though she were savouring something inevitable that was growing between you. Something you didn’t dare to name.

You tore your gaze back to the fire and cleared your throat, your mind racing for something to say.

“I’d kill for literally anything other than berries.” You complained, ending the silence between you.

In comparison to the fish that you had caught and cooked earlier, which was anything but gourmet, the berries tasted like flavourless mush.

“Sure, I’ll just get out Uber-Eats and we’ll see what’s available.” Natalie said sarcastically, pulling her knees to her chest.

You noticed she was shivering and couldn’t help but soften at the sight.

“Do you want my jacket?”

Natalie glanced at the sand-coloured jacket you were currently wearing. It had already acquired several stains, which wasn’t a surprise seeing as you hadn’t taken it off once. Except for now, when you slowly slipped it off your shoulders, down your arms and held it out to her.

“What’s the catch?” She asked, suspiciously eyeing up the kind gesture.

You smirked. She already knew you too well.

“Your real name.” You replied simply.

Nat considered the trade for a second, then grabbed the jacket from you and pulled it on. She sat silent for a beat but kept her promise. “It’s Natasha.”

“Natasha?” You repeated. “Wow. Real creative secret alias. I never would’ve guessed.” You couldn’t help but laugh at her, the difference between her real and fake name being so minimal that it hardly mattered.

“Shut up.” Natasha leant back, a grin playing across her lips.

“What about your surname then? You persuaded, eager to use your generous moral high ground to find out as much about the enigmatic SHIELD agent as possible.

“Oh no, now that wasn’t part of the deal.” She raised an eyebrow cockily, though you could tell her words were sincere.

“Why? Is it topic secret knowledge?” You teased. “If you tell me then you’ll have to kill me?”

“Something like that.”

“Well now I’m only more curious.” As much as you wanted to know, something in her resigned posture and pleading expression persuaded you not to push the subject any further. “But save that piece of information for another day. I need some kind of motivation to keep going.”

You stood up, turning your back to Natasha and the fire to retrieve the first aid kit from your backpack. At multiple intervals during the day, you made sure to change the makeshift bandages and plasters covering your body in some attempt at keeping everything hygienic.

“Let me do that.” Natasha offered upon seeing what you were doing.

You looked over at her, surprised to find you weren’t suspicious in the slightest of her intentions. Despite the fact that you ought to be enemies, entirely distrustful of one another, you trusted Natasha with every bone in your body. Over the last couple days, a mix of necessity and basic empathy had sparked an unexpected alliance between the two of you.

No, not alliance. Friendship. Respect. Enjoyment of each other’s company. And you were certain Nat felt it too, and so allowed her to gently take the first aid kit from your hands.

You smiled at her gratefully, aware that your eyes likely conveyed a lot more than just that and sat back down in front of the fire. She crouched down behind you, hands lightly roaming over your combat suit and assessing where the darker stains of blood were. You flinched at the contact, then relaxed into her open palm.

“It’s just the cut on my upper back and the one along my forehead I’ve been treating.” You explained.

“Are you sure? There’s a rather nasty one down here as well.” She poked a finger into your side to prove a point, causing you to jerk away from the sudden sharp pain.

You hissed through your teeth as the pain subsided. “Yep. Gotta ration supplies.” Then tugged down the top of your suit to draw her attention back to the main injury.

“Alright, hold still.” She set to work unwrapping the bandage you had crudely looped round your shoulder and arm. “This part might sting a bit.” She warned, preparing the antiseptic.

You grimaced, assuming she was going to be much more thorough with the treatment than you had been.” Just get it over with.”

Natasha began delicately cleaning the cut, putting more consideration into the work then you had expected.

“You’ve clearly done this before.” You commented as she started rewrapping the bandage in record time.

“And you haven’t?” She stood up to check, or rather admire, how much better the gauze was looking, then moved to sit in front of you and begin work on the gash along your forehead.

“Fair point.” You conceded, averting your gaze anywhere except Natasha. “But still, I’m glad it’s you out here with me.”

You risked a glance back to Nat. She was close. Closer than you had ever been to her before. If you shifted forwards even just an inch, your lips would brush. You could close the gap so easily. You could bring her impossibly closer. You could-

“Is that gratitude I’m hearing?” She smirked. Her voice was low and raspy, her gaze darting all over your face. Beyond the smirk, a newfound hope was etched into her expression, which only softened further as your eyes met, lessening the distance between you even more.

“Maybe.”

Natasha’s smirk only grew as her head titled down slightly. For a second, you thought she might lean in, that she might kiss you… Until her attention turned back to the first aid kit, abruptly ending the building tension between the two of you.

She returned to tending to your injuries, this time the gash along your forehead. “It’s a miracle this didn’t come with a concussion.” She muttered, stroking a finger along the bruised and bleeding skin.

Your lips drew back in a weary smile. You hadn’t thought back on the whole ordeal much- or truly appreciate how lucky you were to even be alive. You had Natasha to thank for that, not that you would ever be able to recognise her efforts. Once these couple days together were over, once you returned back to civilisation and back under HYDRAs radar, the safest thing to do would be to forget any of this ever happened. To forget Natasha, for her own safety.

Your heart sunk at the idea.

“You know, I think I’m entitled to some information about you.” Natasha stated suddenly.

“How come? I thought we had a deal. The jacket for your real name.”

“Yes, and now I’m fixing this mess of your attempt at first aid. I think you owe me.”

You tutted in lieu of shaking your head, trying to stay as still as you could. “I was going to offer rebandaging your shoulder in return.”

“I don’t accept.”

“No?”

“No.” She sat back on her heels. “Tell me something about yourself instead.”

You exhaled, racking your brain for an interesting enough fact about yourself that didn’t compromise your identity. “You’ll have to be more specific… There’s just too many interesting things about me to share in one night.” You joked.

“Too interesting or too top secret?”

“Both.”

“Fine.” Natasha thought for a moment, pursing her lips- which you admittedly were rather fixated on. “Tell me about your childhood.”

Now that was something you were happy to regale her with, and began happily recounting your early life in as much detail as you could remember. Natasha listened with rapt attention, even as she finished her first aid and packed everything up, even as you tended to her shoulder in return, her focus never left you. She laughed at all the right moments, offered comfort at the more difficult points and asked only the right questions.

And then, in the dying embers of the fire, Nat told you about her childhood. The Red Room, her temporary family, her tenure as a Black Widow assassin.

“Your surname.” You were laid down facing her in the fading light of the fire when it clicked. “You’re Natasha Romanov. SHIELD’s infamous Black widow. An Avenger.”

The identity of SHIELD’s most prolific assassin had only come to light recently with HYDRA unveiling their grand plan. As your organisation stepped into the limelight, so had Natasha, subsequently becoming a top priority for elimination. One of your superiors had told you that as long as she lived, so did the public’s support for SHIELD since she represented a link between the beloved Avengers and the secret service that she served.

Across from you, Natasha nodded; the movement almost imperceptible. Her pupils darted uncharacteristically nervously across your face trying to gauge how you would react. “Does that bother you?”

Of course it didn’t. Out here in the middle of nowhere, none of it mattered.

“No.”

She frowned. “Well, it should.”

“Well, it doesn’t.” You snapped, though not unkindly.

Natasha’s past didn’t matter to you. All that mattered was your time together, in which you had grown fond of her. The real her. Not some made up identity or emotionless figure, but her. You were trained well enough to recognise a liar, which she most certainly was not. Nobody would be able to keep up appearances in the circumstances you were under, let alone remain so authentic yet likeable. You had come to accept the unavoidable fact that she was your only motivation, your only solace through this harsh reality.

Even now, in this freezing cold cave in the middle of the Russian wilderness, you were at peace because of her. You shivered, unsure whether it was due to the cold, or the intense feelings you had repressed for so long.

“You’re cold.” Natasha commented, ever observant. She sat up. You realised it was to take off the jacket.

“No, don’t.” You swallowed, summoning up as much bravery as you had left. “Just- come here.” You patted the rock-hard ground next to you, and waited, watched as Natasha sized up the offer.

You let out a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding when she shuffled over to you. Then found yourself at a loss of breath again when she lay down next to you. There was a moment of stillness, of darkness as the final light from the fire dwindled away. And then an arm stretched round your waist, hand resting at the base of your spine.

Instinctively, you scooted closer, turned so her front was against your back, and settled in the embrace instantly feeling warmer.

The two of you intertwined so perfectly, so comfortably. It felt so natural that you wondered how you had ever slept without her by your side before. Now that was a thought you really couldn’t entertain.

“For body heat.” You explained unnecessarily to the silence, more to convince yourself rather than ease any non-existent awkwardness about the situation.

Natasha hummed in agreement. The vibration sending a pleasant warmth through your own body. It was in this soft embrace that you fully relaxed, comforted by the gentle rise and fall of her chest, lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sound of her breathing, the warm breath fanning across the back of your neck.

It was perfect.

Natasha was the first one to wake up and carefully untangle herself from you. It wasn’t until sunlight started to filter into the cave that you awoke, bringing an end to the privacy of your own little world within the rocky walls. You panicked momentarily upon realising Nat was nowhere to be found, but upon reaching the entrance to the cave, she reappeared with a rejuvenated expression on her face.

“There’s smoke rising in the distance, just beyond that hill.” She pointed to the rather steep incline you had been dreading to face, from which sunlight was only just peaking over the summit. “I think we might be near a settlement.”

Her suggestion filled you with renewed hope, though you were hesitant to show it, too preoccupied by the question of what would happen once you reached civilisation. Despite everything, would Nat turn you over to SHIELD? Would she reveal what she had discovered about your identity? That would almost certainly get you into trouble. Perhaps even put your life at risk.

Or would you go your separate ways pretending to have never met? No- you were certain that was impossible.

“Alright then.” You gazed out at the horizon and preparing yourself for whatever awaited you. “Let’s get moving then.

To your relief, and dismay as much as you tried to deny it, Natasha was right. As you crested the hill, a small village sprawled out on the flats below. It consisted of about fifty houses, one factory with two soot covered chimneys, a handful of fields with some ill looking cows and one road leading in and out. Hardly a luxurious welcome back to civilisation, but what else were you expecting.

Natasha’s pace quickened as you drew nearer, something you really shouldn’t take personally, yet did. Any reasonable person would be relieved that your journey was coming to an end, would be counting themselves lucky to have survived and covered so much distance without any issues. In fact, you yourself were rather looking forward to a change of clothes, a comfortable bed and food that wasn’t foraged or hunted.

It was hypocritical of you to think, but jealousy and insecurity took Natasha’s eagerness as a sign that she was well and truly sick of you. Ready to leave you behind for good.

As you drew near to the outskirts, walking in between the old wooden houses scattered untidily about, a dog came running out to bark at your arrival. It leapt and bounded around you, signifying to all nearby that someone was arriving. You and Natasha walked side by side in silence, feeling the weight of several pairs of eyes tracking your movement. An old man sat on the porch of his house grudgingly and brazenly stared you down, a clear sign that the town didn’t usually see many visitors.

The whole atmosphere was uncomfortable.

“I’m assuming you speak Russian fluently.” You muttered to Nat, clenching your jaw and squaring back your shoulders.

“да.” Was her response, which she then translated as meaning “yes.”

“I gathered that.” You passed yet another resident who looked ready to spit on you, finding the town didn’t become more accommodating the further in you travelled. “Have at it then.” You gestured round the area which appeared to be the main street, although the name hardly did it justice.

There was no formal road or signs naming it, rather a more defined set of tire tracks that marked it as the most frequented street. One of the buildings had a sign labelling it as a grocery store, though was the smallest on the street. You could hardly imagine it would provide much beyond the basics- yet the main problem remained that you had no money on you, nor form of identification or anything.

Nonetheless, it was where Natasha went, and where you wordlessly followed her to.

As predicted, the shop didn’t have much produce to choose from. You browsed aimlessly as Nat spoke to the woman behind the counter, who was the first person not to glower at you. Although you understood some basic Russian, you left the two to talk, occasionally picking up on words you could just about decipher meaning from.

Nat returned to inform you that the woman- Anya- had a room above the shop that she was renting out, and that the town had an ATM located by the factory. Nat had already devised a plan that you would allow Anya to show you round while she went to retrieve cash. You truly had no idea how Nat planned to do so without a credit card, but decided it was best not to question her methods.

“I’ll be back in half an hour at most.” Natasha must have seen the doubt on your face as she informed you before departing.

“Alright.” You swallowed back your hesitancy and nodded, feeling rather strange to be separating from Nat for the first time in days. The urge to reach out and hug her suddenly arose, though you were quick to quell it. You smiled reassuringly instead, watching as she darted out the door and back into the cold Russian air.

“This way, yes?” Anya announced in strong accented English, beckoning for you to follow.

Trying your best to put on a grateful expression, you nodded and accompanied her up a rickety set of stairs to the spare room. Anya did her best to present the property, though the language barrier made it difficult, coupled with the fact you were anxiously glancing out the window every other minute in hopes of catching sight of the redhead returning. Although the spare room was just as she had described. A room. Nothing more, nothing less. One bed, one armchair, one dresser and a view out to the ‘main street.’

The bathroom was downstairs, next to the shop storage room- tad unhygienic- and was hardly an improvement on the amenities over the last few days. Still, you listened attentively and smiled politely as Anya gave her tour. She seemed grateful that someone was finally interested, and you couldn’t help but feel bad about the fact you were only going to rent it for a few days. But with no hotel in town, there were no alternatives.

You and Natasha hadn’t spoken about how this was all going to play out, being too afraid to have hope. Now that it was actually here, you found yourself rather conflicted, unable to plan further ahead than the next five minutes.

Anya ended her tour in the storage room, where you spotted something which sent a thrum of excitement suffusing through your body. A phone. Simply hanging from the wall, available for use at any time. Such a mundane object, and yet it brought you into the present, back to reality with a sudden jolt of realisation. All it would take was typing in the eleven digits, lifting the microphone to your mouth and speaking. But who would you call?

A family member? They would certainly be glad to hear from you, but likely unable to help your current situation.

The Embassy? You would be able to leave Russia more anonymously that way, making HYDRA less likely to question your lacking presence following the destruction of your base.

Or HYDRA themselves? They were the most obvious answer. You were a high ranking official, and they would willingly send aid to your location. You could be back in no time, with little effort beyond corroborating some account of the event. But that would put Natasha in danger.

After all you had been through together, you wouldn’t put her through that.

You at least owed that to her, and crushed the idea as quickly as it had come. You would allow her to disappear first, or for you to go your separate ways before contacting HYDRA.

You heard the door of the shop open, your heart skipping a beat at the sound knowing who it was likely to be.

“Hey.” Natasha grinned at you, her hands clutching literally wads of cash.

“Welcome home, honey.” You joked, watching as Nat placed the money down on the counter. She started counting out the correct amount, Anya’s eyes lighting up as she collected the bills. From what you had picked up from their earlier conversation, she had paid her about a month’s rent. There was no need to give her so much since you wouldn't be staying long, but your chest warmed in recognition of Nat’s considerate nature regardless.

“There’s a tiny restaurant in the middle of town- if you could call it that. The place is basically a shed in some guy’s back garden.” Nat explained. “But I was thinking we could go for dinner.”

“Dinner?” You repeated, face flushing at the connotations.

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “It’s a meal you have after lunch, in the evening before bed-“

“Very funny.” You interrupted with a roll of your eyes. “Yes, I would love to go to dinner with you, Miss Romanov.”

“Alright.” Nat smiled to herself, said something to Anya who nodded vehemently, then turned back to you. “But shower first?” She suggested, to which you gasped playfully.

“Not a fan of the Eau de forest?”

She scrunched up her face.

“Fine. I get the hint.”

Showering had never felt so good. Even if the water was cold, and the shower floor was somehow sticky, it was still blissful…

For some extra cash, Anya had provided you with clean clothes from her own wardrobe, which meant you were able to change out of your disgusting, blood soaked, dirt encrusted combat suit and into fresh, clean fabric, which felt amazing. Even if her fashion sense was very traditional, the dress length very conservative, and Natasha finding your appearance highly amusing, you were grateful, nonetheless.

However, to your annoyance, Nat somehow looked perfectly normal in the style. Daresay she made it look good. But you weren’t jealous, instead considering yourself lucky that you were able to admire her at all.

The next couple hours were spent simply doing nothing. After your shower you all but collapsed into the old armchair in the corner of the room, which was so plush and easy to sink into that you had fallen asleep within five minutes. You would’ve preferred to take the bed, but had decided to leave it in case Nat wanted to sleep.

You weren’t sure whether she did or not, as next thing you knew, she was gently shaking you awake. The room had succumbed to darkness, apart from the last vestiges of sunset casting a purple hue through the window. For a brief second, you had no clue as to where you were until your gaze fell upon Natasha.

She was leaning over you, eyes blinking sleepily as she waited for you to jolt back to life. Your initial confusion became inconsequential at the sight of her; so open and vulnerable, so close to you in the fading sunlight. You swelled with pride at earning her trust so easily. It had come so naturally to you, in a way that it never had with anyone else, and in return, you cared for her more than you dared to admit.

“What time is it?” You pushed yourself into a seating position, if only to pull yourself closer to Nat.

“Six-thirty.” She answered. “We both fell asleep.”

You yawned, stretched and reluctantly stood up, ignoring the click of your overworked joints.

“Do you still want to go to dinner?” Nat asked.

You shot her an incredulous look. “Of course. I never pass up the opportunity for some fine Russian cuisine.”

“All naturally sourced, I’m assured. If you’re lucky there might even be buckthorn on the menu.”

You groaned. “If I even think about eating those damn berries ever again, I’ll throw up.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Yes. On you.”

Nat chuckled, grabbed something on the end of the bed and chucked it over to you.

“This jacket, seriously?” You stared at the sand-coloured item, which was almost brown by this point.

“Returned to you as promised.” She shrugged playfully.

“I’m not sure I want it back anymore.” Regardless, you tugged the jacket over the ridiculously puffy sleeves of the dress Anya had leant you. “How do I look?”

Her gaze swept from head to toe. You couldn’t help but bask in the attention.

“Like you’re ready for a night out on the town.” She concluded, opening the door for you.

The two of you strolled leisurely through the deserted town, both ignoring how each other’s stomachs cried at the promise of proper food. Part of you wanted to run to the restaurant, part of you wanted to savour your remaining time with Nat, and part of you was sensible enough to realise you had no idea where the establishment actually was.

In fact, you would’ve walked right past it if Nat hadn’t directed you inside.

The building was quite literally a wooden shed attached to some guy’s house, promising anything but the finest. The interior was rustic at best, the walls made from spruce logs stacked unevenly, and illuminated by a single string of fairy lights stretched across the square room. There was only space for three tables, with two already having been pushed to the side, and the third sat conveniently next to a space heater.

“Wow. Business is booming. Are you sure we’ll be able to get a table?” You joked, trying to spot the owner of the establishment. It felt like you had walked into someone’s home rather than a public restaurant.

“Give it a chance. It’s charming.”

At her reasoning, you focused on Nat in lieu of judging the place too harshly. You found that anywhere would have been good enough so long as she was there with you. Whether it be an uncomfortable cave, in the elements weathering the cold together, or in a secluded town with no real recognisable restaurant, you were able to appreciate it. Purely because of Natasha Romanoff. The woman who ought to be your enemy, yet you had never brought yourself to hate.

As you sat down on the rickety wooden chair opposite, you saw in her soft expression that she was the same. Neither said it but you both felt it.

Less than a minute after taking a seat, a waiter did emerge. He was perhaps the youngest person you had seen in town so far and spoke no English, but was kind. After leaving you with a handwritten note that was supposed to act as the menu, Nat briefly translated everything he had said. That he ran the place by himself, acting as waiter, cleaner and chef, and that you were the first customers he had seen in weeks besides his parents.

“You’re right. This place is charming.”

“Oh, so you’ve changed your mind now you feel bad?”

“Is that so wrong?” You leant forward on your elbow, trying to peer at the menu which Natasha was hiding behind. “I’m supporting local businesses.”

“How can you be supporting when I’m the one with the cash.” She held the menu out to you. “The wine is imported so it’s all in English.”

You took the sheet of paper from her. “I’ve been meaning to ask; how did you use the ATM without a card?” You skimmed down to the readable section, eyes flittering across the albeit short list of drinks.

“That’s a secret I’m afraid.”

“Of course, it is.”

The waiter returned and promptly took your orders. Not understanding enough Russian to read the menu, you had allowed Natasha to pick something out on your behalf. You weren’t really sure why, considering that in the grand scheme of things she knew nothing about your likes and dislikes, but that hadn’t seemed important at the time.

“I would ask how you are,” you said, denting a silence that hadn’t exactly been awkward, “but I think I already know the answer.”

“Tired.” She answered with a lopsided grin. “But I’m kind of used to it now.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t keep you up too long.”

Natasha didn’t say anything as the bottle of wine arrived in a chilled bucket, surprisingly well presented despite expectations. He poured out two glasses, bowed his head politely and left.

You rested your hand around the glass, studying the light golden colour of the liquid amplified by the warm lighting. In it, you saw sunrises over snowy hills, you saw dwindling firelight reflecting on cave walls, you saw the warmth of Natasha’s auburn hair.

A hand rested faintly atop of yours, fingers steadily seeking permission to intertwine with your own. Slowly, you untangled your grip around the stem of the glass, turned your hand over and felt her palm slide softly against yours. Neither you nor Natasha said anything, content to lose yourself in the humble contact.

After a minute, you glanced up at her, taken aback by the sad, far-away look on her face. You wondered whether it had dawned on her that your time together was running out, whether she was as distraught about that fact as you.

But no, that explanation didn’t suit her. A more fitting label would be regret.

“Hey.” You spoke softly as to draw her attention back in a gentle manner. “What exactly did you order for me?”

She didn’t glance up from your connected hands but smiled. “I thought it was meant to be a surprise.”

“Alright.” You conceded. “I trust you to pick out something good anyway.”

The palpable guilt on her face only worsened. A daunting sickness began to rise up through your chest, evoked by the chilling sensation that something here wasn’t quite right. Nonetheless, you were determined to enjoy yourself, and so persisted with the evening as though a tense suspicion wasn’t present in your mind at all times.

Natasha did eventually seem to snap out of whatever she was feeling, and conversation begun to flow easily between you both. You were able to talk about nothing and everything at the same time: only teasing, light-hearted conversation that you both held onto as if it were the most important thing you had heard in your entire life.

The waiter returned with your dishes about twenty minutes later. You still had no idea exactly what Nat had ordered for you, but it was delicious nonetheless, being the first real food that you had eaten in days. The meal filled a void you had become numb to in all you endured, a newfound energy returning to your body.

Placing down your knife and fork, you looked up at Natasha fondly, admiring her as though it were the last time. Her hair washed and recently dried fell down her shoulders in natural waves of red- almost the same shade as her lips, you noticed. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her eyes appeared darker than usual, though the corners of her mouth quirked up. The cuts and bruises across her face remained, but with less contrast against the pale of her skin, as any mark of that last few days together was gradually fading.

And as they faded, your emotions- your hurt- only grew. For you soon realised what she had done.

The sound of helicopter blades whirling through the crisp night air came into focus, grew closer and closer, louder and louder. You cocked your head to the side an inch to try and pinpoint from which direction they were approaching.

“Here comes the cavalry…” You murmured bitterly.

“Y/N.” Natasha reached out to firmly grab your hand, her grasp no longer tentative. “Don’t run.” She glared at you imploringly. Then added, quieter, “Please.”

You stared back at her, your jaw tightening as you willed any reaction to keep at bay. “Why?” Your eyes shone with betrayal. “Just for SHIELD to capture me? To interrogate and lock me up?”

“That won’t happen.” Despite the certainty of her words, her voice shook. “I won’t let them-“

“Then what?” You interrupted. “They let me go with my identity compromised? HYDRA would have me killed in a heartbeat.”

“Not under SHIELD surveillance. We can protect you.”

“And what kind of life would that be?”

“One with me.”

You paused, your mind going blank.

“It might not be perfect,” She continued. “But I don’t want to leave you just yet.”

You detected a hint of fear in her voice, recognising the toll it had taken on Nat to say what she truly felt. But as much as you felt the same, anger swirled around inside of you like fire, stoked by even the slightest of things. “I didn’t take you as such a selfish person.” You snapped.

You were wasting time, and shot up from your seat, throwing your napkin down onto the table. The building was likely to be imminently surrounded by SHIELD agents, you needed to escape before it was too late.

You surveyed the room, blinking away the tears already welling up. Going out the main entrance would lead you back into the centre of town to be easily trapped, whereas the door the waiter went in and out of would probably take you through his own house. You decided that was the better option, grabbing the jacket from where it was hung over the back of the chair and preparing to run.

Natasha abruptly stood up, tried taking a step towards you, shock and hurt reflected in her gaze.

You had truly upset her and immediately wanted to apologise, but instinctively took a step away from her. “I’m sorry I can’t-“ You tried, but found yourself at a loss for words. “It was nice knowing you, Natasha.” You forced out instead.

Nat opened her mouth to say something. Then closed it again.

So, you turned on your heels and ran. Her betrayal weighed heavily on your heart, but you refused to let it slow you down.

You burst through the backdoor, shoving past the waiter who was returning to collect your empty plates. He grunted at the impact, but you just carried on through the back garden and into his house, trailing snowy footprints along his carpet you. The helicopter above only grew louder, and out the windows you saw shadowy figures drawing nearer, surrounding the house. You had no weapons on you, and the long dress didn’t allow for much movement, but under no circumstances could you allow yourself to be captured.

You walked briskly through the living room and into the kitchen, stopping as you spotted a knife gleaming on the countertop. Deeming it sharp enough, you grabbed it, plunged it into the hemline of your dress and roughly dragged the blade along the fabric. You heard a terrible tearing sound and continued to frantically pull at the cut section until you had ripped all the way around.

The door you had entered through slammed open once more. “Y/N!” It was Natasha. Your heart sunk down into your stomach.

You would’ve preferred an armed SHIELD operative…

Without a second thought, you dashed out the side door, where nothing but an expanse of snow-covered fields awaited. A horrible sense of Deja-vu surfaced in your mind as you realised you were practically going to relive the last couple days of traversing the Russian wilderness, only this time alone and without any supplies or real weapon.

“FREEZE!” Like an answer to your unvoiced prayers, the first SHIELD agent arrived on the scene. He was young, fresh faced and inexperienced, but aiming a gun square at your chest.

You ducked, heard a bullet fire, then rammed straight into the man and slammed him into the ground. His gun flew out of his hand, skidding across the icy surface. You ungracefully launched yourself over the weapon, grabbed it and stood up.

Under the cover of darkness, you aimed it at the soldier, breathing heavily as he looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes.

“Go.” You spat, gestured for him to run and watched as he hauled himself up.

He glanced at you fearfully, then turned and sprinted back in the direction of town. You summarised this was most likely where the main group would be waiting to ambush, and instead looked out in the opposite direction for where to aim for. About half a mile away was a gathering of trees. With the helicopter still hovering somewhere above, you would need the covering of the forest to truly disappear.

“Y/N?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, tried desperately to ignore the desire to turn and face her. You knew it would only slow you down, and perhaps that was what she intended to happen. You knew Natasha Romanov would be your downfall… And yet, you still spared a glance back.

Natasha was stood in the doorway of the house, the light from behind casting her shadow onto the sheet of snow. Despite everything, you couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked like this; studying you so intensely, her face carrying such raw emotion that you could hardly stand to see her this way. Guilt. Loss. Shock. Hope. Screw your entitled sense of betrayal- you wanted to wipe the weight of what she had done from her conscience.

You threw down the gun, crossing the distance between the two of you in a span of three seconds. She stepped down to meet you, arms wrapping around your waist as your hands grasped hold of her face. You pulled her in, lips crashing together as she leant into you. Her lips were chapped but warm, fervently pressed against you as though the need for oxygen had entirely dissipated.

Natasha kissed you urgently, held onto you desperately, hopelessly. Yet in her embrace, everything else faded away to become inconsequential. Her arms tightened around your waist as your lips parted, a plea not to let go. You took in a shuddering breath, rested your forehead against hers and kept your eyes closed, content just to be with her.

For the first time since meeting Natasha Romanoff, you felt you fully understood her. This wasn’t some ploy to make you change your mind or distract you long enough for SHIELD to catch up, nor was it even a goodbye. This was her assurance that someday things would be different, that your story wasn’t over.

That someday you would meet again and finally get it right.

You opened your eyes, finding Natasha’s still to be closed. Reluctantly, you removed your hands from her face, kissing her cheek so that she would just look at you one last time.

And with that, you separated, keeping your gaze fixed on her for as long as possible.

Natasha swallowed her grief. “I’ll distract them.” She nodded, then smiled at you sadly. “Now run.”

Too grateful for words to convey, and too distraught to even try, you bent down to grab the gun before sprinting into the cold Russian night. Your lungs burned; your body ached with each step as you dashed for cover amongst the trees. Your heart was thudding in your chest- as though it wanted to escape and fly back to Natasha, to whom it now belonged.

You reached the forest, an inescapable sense of familiarity dousing you in cold disappointment. Thorny bushes scratched at your exposed legs, mud splashing up your calves. You skidded to a halt in a ditch, crouching down to catch your breath momentarily. You knew you would need to run further to truly disappear from SHIELD, but with the light dusting of snow leaving an easily trackable path, you would need to throw them off the trail first.

Hands patted down your form, looking for something to leave behind somewhere to mislead them. A loose thread of fabric from where you had torn the dress, a strand of your own hair, anything… Feeling something solid in the jacket pocket, you reached in, fingers brushing against plastic.

You frowned and pulled out the mystery object.

An unconscious smile stretched across your lips as the neon green wrapper of a granola bar fell into your open palm; left behind, half eaten by Nat. You turned the inane trinket over in your hand, feeling strangely nostalgic for not so long ago when something caught your eye.

Barely visible in the dim light was a note scribbled on the inside of the packet. The writing was smudged and almost illegible in the small blank space, but your trembling hands unfolded it with the upmost caution.

If you don’t hate me for what I did. Flat no.4, 34 Peterdy St, Budapest- NR

You exhaled deeply, leant back on your heels, and stared up at the night sky.

Natasha had known you would run, already having prepared a second chance: this one you wouldn’t miss. And you certainly didn’t hate her for it. In fact, the brief enigmatic note set your heart soaring, as in that moment, you knew your journey with Natasha Romanoff was only just beginning.

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#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader

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slashbitch2 · 10 months

Text

blood, betrayal and granola bars PT1

Summary: after a routine takeover of a HYDRA base goes terribly wrong, Natasha Romanoff finds herself stuck with her worst nightmare...you. Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader W.C: 5.7k Words part two

An explosion to your left sent shrapnel and debris flying through the air. You quickly tucked your face into the crook of your arm, too distracted by the task at hand to take note of whether anything had pierced your skin. The sound of not-too distant gunshots motivated you onwards as adrenaline pumped throughout your body and numbed the injuries you were sure to have acquired.

Another blast, this time to the right and a lot closer. Shockwaves had you stumbling backwards, falling to the ground and catching your breath. The explosion was intense enough to have penetrated the outer wall of the building, now exposing you to the frigid environment that lurked outside. You felt a gust of wind encircle you, carrying a chill with it. You shivered, watching as the flakes of snow drifted inside now.

An obstructed voice crackled in your earpiece. “ALL REMAINING PERS-NEL TO LAND- BAY ONE.” You rose to your feet, cringing at the pain that shot through your right side. “I REPEAT--- LAST AIRCRAFT CLEARED FOR TAKE OFF—LANDING BAY ONE.”

The aircraft hanger wasn’t too far away, but common sense told you there was no way you would make it in time. Even then, the likelihood of it successfully taking off in these conditions and without being shot down was slim. You leant against the wall, ready to sink back to the ground in defeat.

A distant boom sounded, followed by the very walls around you shaking and groaning as if barely able to hold up the remaining structure. Then a clunk, and suddenly the fluorescent white lighting switched off. You were thrown into an obscurity which matched the darkness outside. It seemed as though the night air was seeping in through the gap in the wall, shadows suffusing across the maze of corridors.

And then, ironically late, a siren rang out. It started quietly elsewhere, then grew louder and louder until the sound was echoing around your end of the base. A second later and the accompanying red emergency lights turned on, drenching the grey walls, ceiling and floor a bloody red.

Your eyes scanned the area, thankfully deserted, head whipping from side to side as you tried to work out where exactly you were in amongst the chaos. Your gaze fell upon a sign engraved into the wall reading NW12, the corridor you were currently in. Despite having spent the last couple months stationed in the base, your mind was blank and muddled. You desperately scoured your mind for if there was anywhere nearby which could possibly help your situation.

The storage room.

It was just at the end of the corridor and to the left, tucked away in a corner hopefully no one would have found yet. With a new motivation pushing you onwards, you set off at a jog, boots clanging against the metal ground at an uneven pace. Muffled gunshots, screams and footsteps continued playing in the background in a horrifying loop. As you turned the corner, you prayed nobody was round the other side, but didn’t dare to spare a glance.

The emergency protocols meant all locks had been disabled, but pure exhaustion and desperation had you all but slamming yourself against the storage room door. It gave way under your body weight, and you rather ungracefully stumbled through the doorway.

Most the shelves were barren, with everyone having grabbed what they could as the invasion began. But hidden away on the bottom corner shelf you caught sight of a First Aid kit. You lunged towards it, willing to take anything you could. To your convenience, someone had abandoned their backpack in the room, so you grabbed hold of that and shoved the kit inside. The backpack contained a jacket, gloves, pencil and an empty water bottle, so you stole those too,

Was it still stealing if the owner was probably already dead?

There wasn’t much left in terms of weapons. You had a gun on you when the conflict begun, but by now most of the bullets had been fired. All that remained in the storage room was a taser, which you opted to take anyway. It was better than nothing.

With replenished supplies, you decided now was as good as any time to leave. There was an underground garage with several vehicles equipped for tough terrain, and so that was probably your best bet if it hadn’t been raided by now.

The base was located quite literally in the middle of nowhere, with only one road in and out: a straight dirt track that was likely covered by a thick layer of snow this time of year. It was never busy as the base was relatively new and unknown amongst most HYDRA agents. To have been stationed here was an honour, and the fact that the base had been discovered by SHIELD was almost unbelievable.

Brandishing your gun in front of you and ready to fire at will, you began the journey to the garage. For a couple minutes, only the alarm and an eerie silence accompanied your passage through the base. With most the building being in ruins now, the conflict appeared to have been taken outside. SHIELD versus Hydra. Both attempting to evacuate while both making a last-ditch attempt at stopping each other from escaping unharmed.

They were as bad as each other…

Opting for a riskier approach, you lowered your weapon in order to start sprinting. Monotonous grey corridors turned into a blur around you, marked only by the occasional splatter of blood and lifeless body left to rot. Or even worse, the ones still conscious that called meekly out for help. You felt sick to your stomach. SHIELD and HYDRA agents lay alongside each other, unintelligible from one another in death.

Onwards you charged into the very core of the base where bullets were still being fired. You ducked around them, miraculously making it through unscathed. Instinct guided your movements; left then right, left again and straight ahead. And then you reached the final stretch, a concrete staircase winding down to the underground level. You halted for barely a moment to listen out for danger and heard nothing but your own heartbeat thundering.

You took a frantic step, ready to descend when something solid crashed against your chest and sent you soaring backwards. Your thudded pathetically against the wall and fell down, watching as a figure swung herself down from the stair rail above.

You fumbled for your gun and aimed it at the woman. She kicked it out of your grip before you had a chance to fire. While she was unbalanced, you shoved yourself forwards and kicked her leg out from under her. She grunted, hitting the hard concrete ground. You scrambled to retrieve the gun, but she was too quick, grabbing you by the shoulders and dragging you back.

In one last attempt, you seized the taser from where it was tucked in the side pocket of the backpack and dug it into her side. There was a buzz, a flash of electricity and sizzle. She cried out in pain, loosening her grip enough for you to escape.

You didn’t bother to get the gun but leapt over her body and down the first set of stairs, then jumped down the next, and the next. A gunshot resonated through the stairway, the bullet bouncing off the wall right where your head had been a second ago. You glanced up to see the redhead catching up now, aiming the gun and about to shoot again.

You dodged another bullet, descended another level. Another shot rung out, this one nowhere near you. There was no time to celebrate the ground you had gained as another ricocheted off the metal handrail right next to your hand. And then, a faint click. She had run out of bullets, and you had almost reached the door to the garage.

Without the gun in hand anymore, the woman leapt over each rail and masterfully swung herself down, skipping the stairs. By the time you were grasping onto the doorhandle, she was kicking you in the stomach. The door swung shut again as you flailed backwards. She had you cornered, your last chance at freedom now gone, yet she didn’t immediately attack.

At the same moment, you both heard it.

From the other side of the wall, a harsh beeping, its pace getting quicker and quicker.

“Shit.” You glanced at your attacker, who’s horrified expression matched your own.

The beeps grew louder, less distance between each as you remained paralysed, waiting for the bomb to implode.

She sprung suddenly at you, throwing both your bodies to the ground.

A shuddering blast.

Overpowering heat.

And then, darkness.

The first thing Natasha became aware of was pain. It started as a dull thudding in her head, then spread to a terrible ache all over. She was exhausted in every sense of the word, and endlessly grateful for the comfort of the mattress beneath her. A high-pitched ringing in her ears drowned out all other thoughts, becoming gradually louder and contributing to the pounding headache she had.

But what was that sound?

She tried desperately to think what could be causing it, or perhaps more importantly, where she currently was, but her mind came up blank.

The mattress shifted beneath her, a spring suddenly poking into her stomach. She tried repositioning herself to avoid the discomfort, and in doing so inhaled a lungful of dust. She coughed and spluttered, untangling herself and trying to sit up. Her body felt as heavy as lead, but something here wasn’t right.

Fighting against the agonising pain behind her eyes, Natasha finally took in her surroundings.

Pale sunlight was filtering in through the broken structure, reflecting blindingly off the snow that had found its way inside the remaining shelter. All around her was piles of shattered concrete, with metal pipes and other indistinguishable objects poking out. Snow had begun to cover everything in a crisp white blanket, as if hiding the damage done, reclaiming the site.

It all came back to her rather abruptly; the HYDRA base, the mission, how everything had gone wrong. The person she was tasked with capturing had escaped, and the mission was taking a turn for the worse. An order had just come in over the intercom for all remaining SHIELD personnel to escape, so she had been attempting to make her own way out when she’d run into-

Natasha realised now that the mattress that had cushioned her fall was in fact not a mattress.

You lay face down underneath her, unconscious where she had knocked you to the ground before the bomb had gone off. Despite how the world around her spun, and how every muscle called out for rest, Natasha was quick to push herself off you, sitting back on her heels to observe your current state. In response, you groaned, slowly but surely coming back to life.

She hadn’t gotten a good look at you previously, only now allowing her eyes to scan over your face, which was littered in small cuts and bruises. Yet underneath it all, she was forced to admit you were rather beautiful. She almost regretted inflicting such injuries on you- like damaging a skilfully sculpted statue. Her gaze continued roaming over your body, taking in the basic protective gear you were wearing and concluding you were at least partly battle trained, and definitely still a threat.

The taser you had used against her was still tightly gripped in your hand, and she shuddered at the memory of how much it had hurt. She decided there was no way she was leaving you with it and leant over you to take the weapon from your grasp.

Suddenly, your elbow flew back, smacking into her face and throwing her off balance.

“Fuck!” Natasha cupped her nose, spluttering through the pain.

You had turned yourself over onto your back and were holding the taser out like a sword. There was recognition in your eyes, but you appeared just as disorientated as she felt- only without a freshly broken nose. You were breathing heavily, eyes darting around the destroyed stairwell and recalling what had happened.

You finally looked back at Natasha, expression softening ever so slightly as you took in the blood pouring from her nose. “Truce?” You suggested apologetically.

Natasha didn’t respond, her mind too busy racing over what was the best course of action in these circumstances.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and stared at her. “Did I break your jaw too or do you not speak English?” Then sighed as she continued being silent. “Tregua? Перемирие? Trêve?”

“Yes, I speak English.” She harshly answered at last, putting an end to your rambling.

You watched her curiously as she took a deep breath, bracing her hands on either side of her broken nose. Natasha knew the best thing to do was pop her nose back into place. She closed her eyes, mentally counting down from five and then pushing harshly inwards. There was a load pop as she grimaced, waiting for the agonising feeling to subside.

“You couldn’t have done that, I don’t know, not in front of me?”

“You’re the reason my nose was broken in the first place.” Natasha muttered, shooting you an unimpressed look.

“It was an instinctual response!” You stated, loosening your grip on the taser. All things considered, neither of you were fit to fight one another. “But I’m sorry.” You conceded, eyeing up the current state of her nose.

Out of all the things she expected from you, an apology wasn’t one of them. Natasha reconsidered you for a moment. You were in a more dishevelled state than she was, with dark red stains starting to seep through patches of your uniform, and a nasty gash along your forehead. With every small movement you winced, leading her to conclude that perhaps you didn’t pose as much of a threat to her anymore, apart from the taser which you were reluctant to let go of.

“If that’s your reaction to waking up after a bomb’s just exploded then I don’t want to be near you on a normal day.” She quipped, summoning the resolve to stand up fully.

Despite everything, you smiled and joined in. “Yeah, I did wonder why none of my relationships lasted past one night.”

Natasha didn’t respond, instead scanning herself for injuries. A bullet had nicked her shoulder, but otherwise every other cut was small and inconsequential. The main sufferance was the general ache that encompassed her whole body. From head to toe she felt beaten and bruised and knew it was only going to get worse. The stillness that enveloped the base meant that any chance of rescue was minimal. With SHIELD evacuations likely having finished hours ago, she would have to make her own way back. Somehow.

The wall separating the stairway and underground garage was now nothing but a pile of rubble. She could see that roof had collapsed in on itself and destroyed any remaining vehicles, resigning herself to the fact that the journey would have to be made on foot. Luckily enough, the structure of the building had taken the brute impact of the explosion instead of falling inwards and crushing you both.

Although unlikely that any survivors or supplies remained, Natasha decided to search the remnants of the base. She started to climb up the fragmented chunks of concrete that had once formed the ceiling when you called out after her. “Wait, where are you going?”

She didn’t bother to slow down or face you. If she was to make progress, then there was no time for delay.

“Hey!” You quickly followed the route Natasha had taken, clambering up after her. “Wouldn’t it make sense for us to stick together? For now, at least.” You proposed between breaths. You were already exhausting yourself trying to keep up with her.

“That depends. Do you plan on tasing or elbowing me in the face again?” After hauling herself up one last block, the ground levelled out into a gentle slope. From here she was able to overlook the barren, colourless scenery, broken up only by the demolished structure.

“You attacked me first!” Crunching footsteps in the snow alerted her to the fact you had caught up. She turned back to see you walking over determinedly, occasionally slipping on the icy, uneven surface.

“I attacked a HYDRA agent, don’t make it personal.”

“Yes, and then you saved a HYDRA agent.”

Natasha halted. “What do you mean?”

“You pushed me to the ground before the bomb went off,” You explained with a shrug. “And I highly doubt it was because you wanted a softer landing.”

Natasha nodded. “I did.” She hadn’t really thought of it like that, but in retrospect, she had probably saved you from some life-threatening injuries.

“Why?”

“Force of habit, I guess.” She sniffed, refusing to meet your probing eyes.

“Well, intentional or not, thank you.” You said sincerely. “Let me make it up to you.”

“How, by slowing me down? Turning me in to HYDRA?” She scoffed.

“No. By sharing my supplies,”

Natasha glanced briefly at the backpack hanging from your shoulder. After being stood still for a minute, she had become acutely aware of the snow falling softly all around her. Everywhere she looked was a mix of white and greys, with a line of dark green trees in the distance. The base appeared already devoid of everything, in the process of being reclaimed by the unpredictable wintry weather.

As if reading her mind, you added, “trust me, you won’t find anything useful in the wreckage if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

Natasha didn’t say anything, feeling rather defeated.

“Look, I have a first aid kit. I can treat that gash on your shoulder.” You placed the backpack down to rummage through. “And I have a jacket in here. I can see you shivering.” You held up a sandy coloured jacket. It would hardly provide much warmth, but it was a start.

“Fine.” She surrendered. As much as she didn’t trust you, there was also no point in going separate ways. “But only if you drop the taser.”

You frowned, shaking your head. “What if we run into trouble? This is the middle of the Russian wilderness. You think you’ll be able to take down a bear, or a wild boar with just some showy Karate Kid tricks?”

Natasha smirked. “Karate Kid?”

“You heard me.” You quirked an eyebrow challengingly, shoving the jacket back inside the bag.

“Fine,” She folded her arms. “Then give me the taser.”

You froze for a second, pursing your lips thoughtfully. “You really have trust issues, you know.” With a sigh, you hesitantly placed the taser in her open hand. “Try anything and I’ll hit you with my backpack.”

“I’m sure me and my Karate Kid tricks can handle that.” Natasha examined the small weapon. It wouldn’t do much damage, but you were right, it was better than nothing. She tucked it into her belt where she usually holstered her gun.

“Alright. Truce, Miss…?” You extended a hand, which she shook cautiously.

“Natalie.” She lied. “Natalie Rushman.”

“That’s not your real name, is it?”

“Nope.” Natasha didn’t bother to elaborate.

The location of the HYDRA base you had called home for the last few months was incredibly convenient for running undetected by most major governmental bodies, but as you soon realised, it was possibly the worst for wilderness hikes. You relayed this thought to Natasha, who stubbornly insisted on walking a few paces behind you. “To keep an eye on you,” she had said.

“I’m not sure walkability is usually taken into consideration when deciding that sort of thing.” She said in all seriousness, though you were certain you heard a smile in her voice.

It had been a few hours since you’d formed your impromptu truce and left the destroyed base. The sun was now steadily rising through the pale blue sky, the clouds having parted and snow discontinuing its assault. Still, enough of it crunched under foot that an uncomfortable puddle of water had invaded your boots.

“If I were in charge on designing military bases, I’d have them built in the middle of busy cities.” You stated, thinking out loud.

“Oh yeah?” Natalie prompted, thoroughly uninterested.

“Yeah. Inside of Starbucks’ or something. Somewhere no one would suspect.” You chuckled to yourself. “But I guess that’s why they don’t let me make the decisions.” You lied.

Despite finding Nat’s company to be relatively enjoyable, at the end of the day you were on different sides, and you were reluctant to let her discover your true role or identity within HYDRA.

“Well, that is a pretty stupid idea.”

You put your hand on your heart and turned back to her acting offended. Your gaze lingered on her for a second longer than necessary. Amongst the endless, flat fields of snow, Natalie provided respite for your eyes. The striking red of her hair and inky black suit stood out like artwork on an otherwise blank, white canvas.

After a beat you turned to face forwards again. “You’re the one with the taser. I think I should be making you walk in front.”

You heard her exhale loudly, but otherwise she said nothing.

“Or what if I tried to make a run for it.” You continued. “I know the area better than you do.”

“I thought you were just complaining about how un-walkable it was.” She retaliated.

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t walked around before.”

“Fine. When we make it to those trees, we can walk next to each other.” She pointed towards the approaching forest of evergreens.

“Wow, what an honour.” You said sarcastically. “Or is it because you know I could hide so easily in there?”

“No, I’m more worried you’d try to run and smack straight into a tree. I don’t want to have to carry a concussed agent round with me.”

You chuckled. “Why? Bad for your image?”

“Exactly.”

Upon entering the forest, the snow became a lot deeper and harder to wade through. The green of the evergreens was darkened by the shadows of other trees standing tall, and so all around you was a scene of black and white- like motionless static in which your mind played tricks on you. Every so often, you swore you saw movement out the corner of your eye, as paranoia began to press down on your chest and rendered you silent. With the taller pine trees blocking sunlight from penetrating the layer of foliage, you found yourself feeling a lot colder after only a couple minutes of walking through it.

“Hold on.” You called out to Natalie and placed the backpack down to dig out the jacket and gloves.

“What happened to sharing resources?”

You looked up at her, pulling on the gloves and feeling instantly a lot warmer. “You should have asked earlier.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t complain.

As you unravelled the jacket fully, a bright green wrapper fell out of the pocket. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes- or luck, as a granola bar fell into your lap.

Unfortunately, Nat saw it too. “I call dibs on the granola bar, then.”

You looked up at her, exasperated and unimpressed. Food hadn’t been on your mind but seeing the snack suddenly brought to light the gnawing hunger in the pit of your stomach.

She simply shrugged and reached down to snatch it out of your lap. “You get the clothes; I get the food. It’s only fair.”

You rolled your eyes and watched as she tore open the wrapper. ““I would argue but I don’t have the energy. I’m too weak from hunger.” You stood up and walked onwards without her, determined to ignore the sound of her crunching behind you.

“Wait.” Nat’s voice was suddenly too serious for your liking, a horrible prickle at the base of your spine convincing you to listen to her.

You stopped in your tracks, allowing the silence of the forest to resonate all around you. There were no birds chirping, no branches snapping or wind rustling leaves. It was eerily still.

Static. The crackling of a radio in the distance. “Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me.” An unfamiliar person was speaking into an intercom, met only by more static and silence.

The sound was coming from behind you, growing steadily closer.

“Requesting immediate assistance.” It was a different voice this time, but they had no better luck in reaching out for help.

Your mind was racing, your heart beating in your chest yet you didn’t dare to breath. They could be fellow HYDRA agents willing to join you in the search for safety. Or they could be SHIELD agents, left behind like Natalie and ready to kill you.

Should you reveal yourself and pray they would help? Or stay silent assuming they were the latter?

A quick glance at Natalie revealed the same indecision in her expression. You realised she was in the same situation as you, wondering whether to risk it and trust them, or to continue alone in your unstable truce.

Regardless the fact remained that, if you called out to them, one of you wouldn’t survive.

At this realisation, your mind came to an answer: you would not contact the strangers. Although Nat was your enemy, she had unknowingly saved your life earlier, a debt you were willing to repay. Any desire to fight with her had faded, replaced by the desire to cooperate, and to a certain degree ensure her safety.

“Y/N.” Natalie hissed your name, drawing your attention back to the matter at hand. The voices were steadily growing nearer and nearer, your view of them obstructed by the thick row of trees surrounding you. They hadn’t seen you yet but inevitably would.

Nat inclined her head to the right, eyes widening in an attempt to convey her plan. You followed her gaze to a fallen tree a few metres away, quickly assessing what she meant for you both to do. Relief filled your body as you recognised that she had come to the same conclusion not to turn yourselves over to the strangers,

Careful not to make too much noise, you ducked down and tiptoed over to the fallen tree, hearing her softly following behind. Having recently fallen, the leaves were mostly intact, and you were able to lean back into them and hide. Snow balancing on the branches fell onto you while the shark pine needles stuck uncomfortably into your back, but you ignored the discomfort to shift over, allowing Natalie to settle wordlessly down beside you.

Both of you held your breath and listened out, praying they wouldn’t see you as they went past.

The crackling static grew nearer, interrupted only by the same phrase repeated over and over. “Is anyone out there? Hello? Requesting immediate assistance-“

The footsteps stopped where you had been standing barely a minute ago. There was a dull thump of something hitting the snow, then an agitated. “Just give it up! No one is out there, and nobody is listening!”

The man who had previously been speaking into the intercom sighed. “Well what else would you have us do? Continue wandering aimlessly?”

“Better than listening to your stupid, fucking whiny voice over and over.”

“Yeah, and who made you team leader?”

“Can you two just shut up? Please?” A third exasperated voice interrupted the heated conversation between the two men. “Arguing isn’t going to help us. We’re stuck, the base is gone and HYDRA isn’t coming back to safe us so why don’t you just-“

You zoned out from the rest, too caught up on what he had said. They were HYDRA. They could help you. A sinking sort of feeling enveloped your stomach, previous hunger quickly forgotten and replaced by regret. You listened as the group continued onwards, their voices slowly fading, and with it; your regret only grew.

You glanced to the side, seeing how Nat was watching for your reaction with concern in her eyes. She expected you to run after them and leave her alone, or to call them back and have her ambushed. She must have seen the remorse on your face as her expression hardened, her fist clenched ready for a fight.

Without thinking, you placed your hand over hers and shook your head in way of silent communication. At your assurance, she seemed to relax slightly, so you removed your hand to stare straight ahead and wait for an all clear. Nat continued to impassively observe you until the voices had dwindled, and the forest fell into silence once more.

Darkness was descending upon the forest when you decided to stop for the day. You had made a fair bit of progress, but hunger was gnawing away at your patience, tiredness slowing down your limbs and the cold night air sending pain shooting through all your injuries. Yet in spite of all the negatives, you found you were getting on well with Natalie. Apart from the occasional meaningless squabble, you worked well as a team, and the only issue you had so far was the granola bar peaking teasingly out her pocket.

Currently, she was gathering as much dry kindling as she could find in the fading sunlight, while you were tasked with trying to keep the fire going. Under the shelter of particularly thick evergreen tree, you had brushed away the thinner layer of snow and set up a small pile of twigs. Then you had used the lead from the pencil left in the backpack as a fire starter and gotten Nat to spark the taser against it.

You were rather proud to see flames burning tall barely a moment later. Although, the evergreen pines burnt away rather quickly, hence Natalie searching the area for better materials.

Exhaustion caused your eyelids to droop and your vision to blur as you stared at the fire, hypnotised by the orange glow that danced through the still air. The warmth it emanated felt like a luxury, the light it provided was your saving grace. As much as you loathed to admit it, you found the forest ominous at night, preferring to focus on the way the smoke burned your eyes.

“Hey.” Nat reappeared before you, clutching onto armfuls of sticks which she set down just out of reach of the fire.

You simply smiled at her, too tired to think of anything to say.

“I found these as well.” Nat extended a handful of berries toward you. They were dark in colour, and you couldn’t help but be suspicious. Although you were certain you had been cooperating well, perhaps Natalie didn’t feel the same. Perhaps this was some big ploy to have you killed.

She quirked an eyebrow at the obvious suspicion laced in your expression. “They’re buckthorn.” She explained. “I’m not trying to poison you.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you.” You mumbled, though there was no real weight behind your words. You were starving, and at this point, willing to eat anything.

Carefully, she tipped the berries into your cupped hands. Hesitantly, you ate one.

They tasted fine.

You devoured the rest.

“So how come you know so much about Russian-wilderness gastronomy?” You asked eventually, changing the topic from your obvious distrust of her.

She regarded you with curiosity, surprised that you had thought to ask and considering how much to say. “I was born here.” She put simply.

“And what, you were a Russian girl scout?” You smirked, prompting her to say more.

The corners of her lips lifted up in a smile, then fell back into a serious straight line. “Not exactly.”

You could tell she was avoiding saying something, and you decided not to press her for an answer. Seeing the reminiscent sadness in her eyes, you felt the sudden need to apologise for having brought it up in the first place. “Sorry, just I’m trying to work out how you go from Russia to SHIELD.”

“With great difficulty.” She tilted her head amusedly. “What about you? How did you end up with HYDRA?”

You sighed, slumping against your backpack and debating how much to say. From Nat’s honesty, you decided she at least deserved a truthful response. “Accidentally.” You chuckled humourlessly. “Believe it or not, working for a secret organisation founded in a Nazi ideology wasn’t exactly first on my careers list.”

“Did you accidentally stumble across one of their secret bases located in a Starbucks?” She jokingly asked.

You laughed tiredly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “No, that would’ve been too easy.”

Both being equally exhausted as the other, you allowed the conversation to end and settled back to sleep. The ground was freezing beneath your body, the fire only providing so much warmth. You were using the backpack as an impromptu pillow, which made the sleeping situation slightly more bearable, yet it was still impossibly uncomfortable. You could hardly imagine how intolerable the night would be for Natalie.

Right on cue, you heard her hiss in pain from beside you. She was clutching at her shoulder, suddenly jogging your memory that a bullet had nicked her.

Your head lolled to the side as you faced her. “Do you want me to bandage that?” You asked quietly.

“I was waiting for you to offer.” She snarked.

You rolled your eyes and sat up, your muscles already aching from the two minutes you had spent laid down. You thumbed through the mostly empty bag to retrieve the first aid kit from the bottom. Beside you, Nat pulled her suit down enough to reveal the gash. You were unable to stop your eyes from lingering on the exposed skin; pale from the cold and covered in dried blood, yet your gaze still traced the way her collarbone jutted out. Your mouth felt suddenly very dry.

“I don’t mind doing it myself.” She commented, a smirk crossing her lips as though she had read your mind.

“No. Its’ fine, I’ll do it.” You shuffled towards her, examining the wound and preparing the necessary equipment to treat it.

She said nothing more as you set to work, your hands surprisingly warm despite the weather.

Softly, silently, you tended to the cut. Softly, silently, Nat basked in the warmth of the contact.

> PT2

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader

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slashbitch2 · 10 months

Text

Dark Shadows

Angelique Bouchard

Us and Them (three chapters, in progress)

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slashbitch2 · 10 months

Text

Kathryn Hahn

Agatha Harkness

A Snippet of Life with Agatha Harkness

it’s been agatha all along (seven chapters, discontinued)

Prove Me Wrong, Darling

The Very Nosy Neighbour

it’s just like seeing her for the first time, again

each day I pray for evening just to be with you

thank you for your love

Carla Dunkler

never judge a mom by their car

i wanna hear you calling my name

Eve Fletcher

Wavelength

Jennifer Barkley

I've kissed you before, but I didn't do it right, can I try again? (seven chapters, complete)

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slashbitch2 · 10 months

Text

Marvel

Ravona Renslayer, Sylvie Laufeydottir

For All Time Or For Lost Time (discontinued)

Agatha Harkness

A Snippet of Life with Agatha Harkness

it's been agatha all along (seven chapters, discontinued)

Prove Me Wrong, Darling

The Very Nosy Neighbour

it's just like seeing her for the first time, again

each day I pray for evening just to be with you

thank you for your love

Hela Odinsdottir

Thor Ragnarok (four chapters, on haitus)

Natasha Romanoff

blood, betrayal and granola bars: 1 2

Olivia Octavius

Extra Complications: 1 2 3

Wanda Maximoff

heroic blame

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slashbitch2 · 10 months

Text

The Conjuring

Lorraine Warren

Lying To Her Love

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slashbitch2 · 10 months

Text

AHS

Cordelia Goode

Void (three chapters, complete)

Hypodermic Sally

lead me into your darkness

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slashbitch2 · 2 years

Text

heroic blame

inspired by wanda in multiverse of milfness

2025, Present Day

If Wanda still held the same high opinion of you, she certainly wasn't showing it.

Affectionate glances were now replaced by a conscious lack of eye contact, warm touches exchanged for distant body language, and reassuring words swapped for general threats. There was nothing to indicate that you two had once been anything more than soldiers on opposite sides. Even in your head you were starting to doubt each memory of her, briefly considering that perhaps she had infiltrated your mind and was erasing herself from it. Previously, you had thought this implausible, but now, staring at the intimidating scarlet cloud engulfing her body, you wondered if there was any Wanda left in her.

The nearby flutter of a cape brought your attention back to the present moment as Doctor Strange landed a few metres away, his pace never faulting as he strode towards you. "Your turn." He nodded solemnly without a hint of surprise, as though he could already guess how this would all unfold.

A lump in your throat had been forming at the prospect of having to directly face Wanda, which had been ignored until this point. You had hoped that she'd come to her senses, or reconsider upon talking to Strange.

Deep down you'd known this unlikely.

With a resigned sigh and final glance back, you allowed your powers to lift you effortlessly off the ground. Sapphire strands enveloped your hands, pushing onwards and upwards until Kamar-Taj became dizzyingly small beneath you. The air grew increasingly warmer as the ominously dark cloud filtered into view all around you and everything darkened. Maybe it was the lack of earth below your feet, the solitude of being separated from the army, or possibly the effect of being so close to such a threateningly powerful witch, but regardless you felt as though your soul had been left behind. The brief journey seemed to stretch on infinitely.

Yet you found yourself face to face with the Scarlet Witch all too quickly.

A red glow highlighted her face, once soft and rounded features now warped into a striking and piercing visage. She looked borderline unhealthy, as though her ever increasing powers were taking a physical tole and draining away her humanity. The burdens of past traumas were a parasite, latched firmly and mercilessly on her. You remembered how Wanda always alluded warmth and quiet confidence, how addictive her presence had been, and the comfort her company had given. By current comparison, any resemblance of what had once been kindness and innocence lingering behind her eyes had since evaporated. How you longed for it now.

"Y/N." The lack of strength behind her voice betrayed her, wavering slightly. "You can't be here."

If you weren't mistaken, there was genuine concern etched across Wanda's face.

And then the Scarlet Witch's eyes darted almost imperceptibly across your body, lingering a little too long on the magic flowing from your fingertips. She was sizing you up. Determining how much of a threat you posed.

"Wanda." You responded barely more than a whisper, trying to erase the fondness that the name usually carried. "You shouldn't be here."

Her hand reached out towards you suddenly, yet smoothly. You flinched involuntarily, uncertain whether this was an act of indulgence on the part of Wanda, or a threat from the witch within her.

Upon watching your panicked reaction, she retracted her hand, displaying an expression of regret, and something close to shame. "This is the only way." A tear pooling in the corners of her eye reflected the deep red filling the sky as she shook her head, adamant, but not without recognition of her reluctance.

"You know that's not true!" This time, you reached forward to grab her hand, giving in to your naive confidence that she would not retaliate in a violent manner. "This is the way of someone isolated and careless- of which you are neither." You grasped her hand tightly, imploring her to come to her senses while savouring the smoothness of her skin. Though this time there was a coldness to her touch that had developed alongside the corruption of her magic, which you opted to ignore.

"Please." Her head twitched to the side. You watched her expression darken, her mercy draining away right before your eyes. "This is all there is for me. To be the villain." The brief internal battle had been lost. No longer was Wanda in control, rather the Scarlet Witch. The parasite.

---

2017, Eight Years Ago, Including Blip

A gentle nudge against your ankle kicked you into motion again. Your head shot up, your vision greeted by Natasha's cocky smirk sitting opposite. Having previously been too engrossed in staring at your dinner, the sound of the kitchen doors opening had gone previously unnoticed, but judging by the way Nat's gaze flickered to behind you, someone required your attention.

Swivelling round in your seat, anticipation arose from the pit of your stomach, growing almost intolerable until finally laying eyes on Wanda. She was back.

The mission had taken much longer than expected, and she looked more exhausted than you would've guessed. There was a certain resignation to her posture, reverting back to how you'd first known her as a fellow experiment of Hydra; ashamed, scared and quite frankly pitiful. The gradually accumulated assertiveness that she'd grown to suit was no more. She carried herself as though bearing an unfathomable weight, not daring to look anywhere but at her own feet. When finally, she allowed herself to peer up, it was only at you.

Without words, she conveyed a sufficiently clear message: I'm sorry.

It wasn't an apology to you, but immediate concern flooded your mind. Wordlessly you stood up, breezed across the compound living space to grab a hold of her arm and continue, dragging her with you. Wanda kept up the pace while slipping out of your grasp to then grab your hand instead. The simple gesture awoke something within you. Sparks shot through your body, igniting a desire just to be with Wanda. Nothing more, nothing less. In that moment, she was your only care in the world.

Throughout the years you had progressed from an alliance, to a somewhat ambiguous friendship, and then to inseparable. You'd always harboured an admiration for the fellow magic wielder, though she hadn't reciprocated until you earnt the trust and respect of Pietro. After his death, you were one of her few remaining links to him. You mourned, cried, spent sleepless nights together. Then recovered, trained and made amendments together. To see her now, undone and distressed formed a similar ache in your chest.

In no time you had reached the security of her room, silent tears now streaming down her cheeks.

"Wanda." Your voice broke, unable to form the second half of the sentence. Though you didn't need to.

You sat her down on the bed, falling into an easy embrace as she continued crying soundlessly, like she weren't worthy of displaying true sadness. Guilt radiated from her shaking form, prickling onto your skin in cold jabs. Any emotional state she experienced spread to you in a physical manifestation of sorts, and vice versa with your strongest sentiments. But with nothing else to do but wait, you held her until she stopped crying, bearing the agony that seeing her distraught brought on. And when she began to speak, you listened attentively since every word was of the greatest concern to you.

As she explained what had happened in Lagos, you lived vicariously through her descriptions. Soon enough, similar tears of solidarity were following a path down your cheeks.

Wanda wasn't in the wrong. The thought burned your mind, aching to escape though you had no way to voice it. No words would suffice. Instead, you reassuringly squeezed her arms, hoping that the warmth of the gesture would effect her as it would you if roles were reversed.

At long last, she returned your eye contact. Although the guilt remained, the shame had faded away, replaced by an expression of solace and appreciation. Pure, unadulterated affection. Love, you might even say.

Almost warily, tentatively, as to observe your reaction, she leant forward and rested her forehead against yours, closing her eyes once she knew you weren't going to jerk away. With such little distance between you, the excuse to admire her up close permitted your eyes to dart all over her face; from the shallow scratch above her eyebrow, to trail along every line across her lips. You took it all in at a level of detail nobody else had been offered. The thought spread a shiver throughout your entire body. Only you were this close to Wanda. Satisfied with the time you'd had to cherish the moment visually, you closed your eyes to appreciate without such distractions.

It wasn't long before you tuned in to the feeling of being watched, and surely enough, Wanda was staring at you softly, her green orbs subtly flickering down to your lips.

There were no thoughts in your head other than that of Wanda. All you could hear was her breath, feel it fanning across your face from the close proximity, heat radiating from exposed skin as though actual sparks were flying between you. Neither of you felt the need to rush, each knowing what the other was thinking and content to savour every second. Eventually, her lips brushed against yours. Then again. Harder this time, with more certainty to the action. You leant into the kiss in retaliation, allowing yourself to completely succumb to her and the sensation of her mouth moving soundly against yours. Nothing had ever felt so right.

From that moment on, you barely left her side.

Every night was spent together at the compound, every battle fought by her side, even if it pained you to fight against those you'd previously considered close friends. You happily went into hiding with her, then when the time came, fought and lost to Thanos together. For Wanda, you were the last person she saw before fading away, which brought her great peace in the moment.

Meanwhile, you had to watch her turn to dust in your arms. You were the one who had to suffer through her death.

The blip seemed to take more of a toll on the survivors than those who were spared from temporary death. Without Wanda, and half the population for that matter, all the traumas of your life finally managed to catch up. At first you attempted to stay busy, distracted by playing vigilante to a world on the precipice of chaos. Next came the recluse phase, in which you retired to a secluded cabin in the remote woodlands of what had been Sokovia. During this time you refused to acknowledge or use your powers unless absolutely necessary, which wasn't until a group of self-proclaimed 'hero hunters' tracked you down. The intrusion was entirely unpleasant, reminding you of every reason to remain isolated.

Although, you were definitely no hero, and therefore, certainly not to blame.

Upon recognising this fact, the repression stopped. So did the grief, the shame, the mourning for what life could've been. You were able to move on.

Even when those blipped returned, you didn't dare venture from what had become home.

---

Present Day

"You're no villain." You spluttered out the words, unforeseen tears streaking down your face and dishevelling your words. Sensing such internal conflict from Wanda was evoking the same reaction within you. Confusion clouded your every thought. "Not to me-"

"Don't lecture me about who I am." She spat, snatching her hand out of yours. "You don't have the right!" A fraction of anger flashed across the Scarlet Witch's face.

There was a pause as you tried to think of something, anything to say that would dull the thrumming build of power. A nostalgic ache washed over you for the way Wanda's magic used to welcome you, surround you with security. Now, however, It crackled threateningly through the air like electricity, a subtle reminder of who you were dealing with.

"Do you know what it was like?" Hurt laced Wanda's voice, suffusing throughout the air like palpable waves of cardinal anguish. "To return and watch everyone else reunite, to have somebody waiting for them. I come back and you're missing, there's nothing awaiting me..." Her voice quietened, emotion seeping from her every breath. "You were all I had Y/N."

It was your fault. Denial could no longer suffice.

Wanda laughed, suddenly and tearfully. "This is my only way." Her smile dropped. "To leave all this behind, start over in some universe that isn't already ruined."

"Let me make it up to you." Guilt reduced your voice to nothing more than a whisper. One last tear fell, one of acceptance. "Let me help."

Her eyes narrowed at you, as though trying to gauge any ulterior motive through expression alone. "And how would you do that?"

"I'll help you get what you want." Confidence strengthened your declaration. Looking up, you stared directly at the Wanda, desperate to convey your sincerity. Fiery specs floated throughout the green of her eyes, though you still sought warmth in them. "I can't excuse what I've done to you, but I'm willing to prove I still love you."

Although it was the Scarlet Witch before you, Wanda remained hidden somewhere within the facade, and so did your love for her. No amount of time could make you forget the feeling. Loving her had been the best part of your life, and you would forever regret missing out on that opportunity for so many years. But it wasn't too late. This was the new opportunity. Doctor Strange's judgment that you would choose their side was mistaken. In every situation, you would choose Wanda regardless. Even if that now meant choosing the Scarlet Witch too.

In that moment, recognising what you had to do, you made an internal promise to love every part of her without hesitation.

"You'll do whatever it takes?" There was distrust behind the question, which you were desperate to eradicate.

Swallowing your fear, you nodded. "And if that makes me the villain, then so be it."

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x reader #scarlet witch x reader

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slashbitch2 · 2 years

Text

lead me into your darkness

TW: alcohol, drugs, death, just sally being sally basically

You didn't believe in ghosts, the supernatural, paranormal, occult or however else it was labelled. Every 'true story' was shrouded in inaccuracies, every video surfacing on the internet nothing more than a farce. But despite it all; the logical stance, the lacking belief and boring pessimism, you still enjoyed every predictable, campfire ghost story and low-rent horror movie. The incredulous promise of each haunted attraction was alluring, even though you had yet to witness any viable proof. Still, you had found yourself searching for 'most haunted locations in Los Angeles' as soon as the plane touched ground, signifying the end of your flight.

"For a place named the City of Angels, Los Angeles definitely isn't heavenly by any means." You called out, eyes remaining glued to your phone screen.

"Already with the spooky shit?" Eve glanced back at you with mischievous eyes, the rest of her face too tired to express anything beyond disgruntlement. "We haven't even found a place to stay yet, thanks to him." She shot a despairing glance towards Aiden, who remained clueless as he focused on frantically scrolling through Tripadvisor.

After a few seconds subjected to her scrutinising glare, he finally looked up, quick to catch on. "I thought I'd reserved a room!" The rebuttal did nothing to deter the blame placed on him. "And now, apparently, everywhere is either completely booked or way too fucking expensive."

You could feel tensions were running high: the fatigue of the day finally catching up as seasonal humidity weighed down you. Eve sighed before stepping closer to grab hold of Aiden and attempt to calm him down. For the sake of giving them some space, your attention switched back to the most haunted locations list.

"There doesn't happen to be a hotel on your spooky list, does there?" Bryan shifted to stand beside you, his height casting a shadow over the screen. Out of the four of you, he appeared to be the calmest, maintaining both appearance and a sense of humour.

"Actually," His comment jolted your memory. "I think there might've been."

"That could work. It won't be busy seeing as no one chooses to stay somewhere creepy besides freaks like you."

He elbowed you lightly, though you were too preoccupied to return his witty remarks. Instead, you concentrated on scanning the website. Paragraphs about sites of massacres and cursed houses blurred past with every swipe, eventually halting as you read the title you'd been searching for.

"The Hotel Cortez." You read aloud, attracting the group's attention and putting an end to Eve and Aiden's distant bickering. "This building's violent history began long before its construction had even finished, playing host to notorious serial killer James Patrick March. However, despite the morbidity associated with the hotel's first owner, it has remained open for business ever since the opening in 1926. Since then, numerous deaths and disappearances have been associated with the property..." You trailed off, deciding not to read any further for fear that the others would be disturbed by the more recent history.

A conflicted silence fell over the group as they considered the option.

"It's at 317 South Spring Street. We could get a taxi." You added, if only to encourage them.

The silence continued for another beat.

"It'll be cheap." Bryan chimed in. "And probably empty."

"True." Aiden muttered, seemingly having made up his mind. "Probably a dump, but it's the best we can do right now."

He turned to Eve, the only one who had yet to say anything. She shrugged, the gesture of indifference contrasting with the general disgust reflected on her face. Clearly the prospect of staying at the Hotel Cortez wasn't an appealing one, but she was reluctant to argue and bicker anymore.

"It's settled then." Aiden clapped his hands together, happily relinquishing his prior responsibility for the accommodation. "Murder hotel it is."

---

As the taxi pulled up outside the Hotel Cortez, evening was just beginning. The endless hoards of businessmen and families that had once filled the streets were slowly being replaced by club goers and junkies. Or perhaps it was due to location rather than time of day. The hotel didn't exactly look like the fine establishment your friends had been hoping for. To you, however, it looked intriguing.

With the sun skimming across the horizon, the building was highlighted by a thulian pink hue. The colour danced dimly across the walls, concentrated in the glass of each window and cast back out like the hotel was emitting its own light. There was an otherworldly appearance to the phenomenon, piquing your interest and adding a bounce to your step as you exited the taxi. Without the confinement of the vehicle, the building loomed menacingly overhead, accompanied by a chilling breeze.

You remained transfixed by it, hypnotized by the stillness of it. There was no sign of the chaos usually associated with hotel lobbies. No one entering or exiting. Not a single sign of life.

"Well at least we don't have to worry about reservations." Eve appeared to your right, handing you the suitcase you'd neglected to unload from the taxi. "Place looks deserted."

"Yeah, it's quiet." You added, then politely stepped back to allow a group of people to pass by. They already looked partially drunk, though were unusually quiet while walking past the building. "Like the hotel is absorbing the noise rather than creating it."

"Wow." Eve shook her head in mock contemplation, then dramatically gestured toward the door. "Poets first."

You rolled your eyes at the mockery, but lead the way nonetheless, hearing her call out "Let the hotel be your muse!" from behind you.

Each step closer to the hotel felt lighter than the last. Like an invisible weight was being lifted from your shoulders- the burden of the modern world left behind as you pushed open the intricately designed doors. Your fingers itched to run across every groove and notch of the Art Deco engravings, but curiosity compelled you onwards into the lobby. A rush of cool air suffused around you, although the tell-tale hum of the aircon unit was missing. But the strange detail was soon overlooked when you craned your neck upwards to admire the grandeur of the foyer.

It was indescribable. A glorious mix of red and gold that both surpassed your expectations, and unnerved you. Even though the lobby was distinctly beautiful, there was something disconcerting about it also. Perhaps it was the vast ceiling, or the eerie silence. Maybe the lingering smell that numbed your senses, or the ominous haze that seemed to engulf the opposite end of the room. Still, despite the dreamlike appearance, you'd never felt more awake. Your eyes darted all over the lobby, pursuing each dark corner and chasing after every minute detail with unprecedented eagerness.

At first, you glossed over the figure poised lifeless, half hanging over the edge of the banister without a care in the world. Oh, but she had certainly seen you. Even with the distance between, you could see her eyes raking over your form, not bothering to spare a glance at any of the others. You felt your attention for the hotel dwindle as your curiosity about the woman increased. She stood out from her surroundings, yet you struggled to picture her existing anywhere else. The hotel had formed around her image; the hazy atmosphere from the smoke of her cigarette, the colour scheme made to match her leopard print coat, the inconsistent mix of light and dark to frame her frizzy hair. It was all for her.

You watched as she reached some kind of conclusion, discarding her cigarette with a flick and backing away out of view, staring at you all the while. She was ominously enchanting. An almost morbid interest- similar to the strange enjoyment received from watching something be destroyed.

A gentle tap on your arm yanked you back into reality.

"You alright?" Bryan asked tentatively, ducking into your line of vision to keep you reluctantly tethered to the present.

You smiled reassuringly. "Yeah, just tired." Though he remained unconvinced.

A shrill ring reverberated throughout the empty lobby. And again as Aiden impatiently hit the bell once more. Taking advantage of the distraction, you dodged any further questioning from Bryan by joining the other two at the front desk.

"Someone must've heard that, right?" His hand hovered over the bell, posed to ring it again.

"Yes, someone definitely did." The low, raspy voice sounded closer than it was. Echoing round your head like she'd been there the entire time. Smoke seeping in through your ears, wrapping itself around your skull, curling and stretching to fill every crevice.

Gentle footsteps passed alongside, proceeded by the distinct scent of nicotine, perfume and something else entirely unique to her. Or rather, to the hotel. You could only describe it as aged, accumulated over years and years of human suffering and sentiment.

The woman was stood in front of you now, purposefully turned away from the group. Casually, she hoisted herself over the counter to stand behind the check in desk, her eyes trailing along to Eve, Bryan and Aiden, as though only now noticing them.

"Welcome to the Hotel Cortez." She grinned unkindly. "Reservations?"

Your friends exchanged glances, silently arguing about who should answer. They appeared uneasy around her. So were you, but your curiosity persevered. "We don't have a reservation."

Slowly, she turned toward you, a malicious smirk stretching across her face. "Well, maybe you'll just have to bunk with me." She bit her lip with mock, taunting innocence.

"For Christ's sake, Sally!" A shorter woman entered from the correct door, bustling about behind the desk with practiced familiarity. She- not so subtly- whispered something about behaving to Sally, who looked at her with such disgust that you immediately shared in her hatred.

A hushed insult and a roll of the eyes and Sally was gone, slamming the door behind her, perfume lingering in the air. Without her nearby, the scent had a palpable air of melancholy to it.

"Sorry about that." The woman said. You looked back at her, eyes darting down to read her name badge. "Dumb junkies- can't get rid of 'em. Anyway, let's get you folks checked in." Iris clapped her hands together, smile no less malicious than Sally's.

---

"There's no Wi-Fi or functioning aircon- not that it needs it, the entire place is freezing, and it smells so bad!" Eve flopped down onto the bed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she finished rattling off her list of complaints. "Oh, and that woman! The way she stared at me when I said I wanted a double to share with Aiden- then inconveniently informed me all those rooms were booked. Fucking prude."

"You mean Iris?"

Eve finally turned to look at you from where she'd collapsed on the adjacent bed. She frowned. "Who?"

"The check in lady. It said on her name badge."

"Oh."

"Yeah," You sat up, swivelling round to let your feet touch ground. "thought you'd want to know the name of the person you're complaining about." You sighed. Despite the exhaustion of travel, you were unable to relax fully and had started to lose your patience.

An idea sprung to mind. Not necessarily a good one, but an appealing one. "I'm pretty sure I saw a bar downstairs in the lobby." A libation would soothe your nerves, and with some alcohol in her system, Eve would be more forgiving. "Wanna go investigate?"

"Not tonight, sorry." She shot you an apologetic glance. "But go ahead."

Seeing how she'd basically sunk into the mattress, you concluded that no amount of convincing would get her to change her mind. Though surprisingly, the prospect of drinking alone had greater appeal.

"Ok, well." You reached across the bed to grab your phone and wallet. "I have my phone, so text if you need anything."

"I would if this building wasn't a fucking dead zone!" She called out as you shut the door behind you. Unable to resist throwing one final insult at the hotel.

All four walls of the corridor were identical, with odd patches of darkness strewn throughout that made it especially disconcerting to navigate. Standing at what felt like the site of a crime, you could understand how the hotel had amassed such a dark history. The carpet seemed to stretch endlessly, pattern and colour worn from usage. As your eyes trailed further down, they fell upon a figure.

She was wearing a traditional maid's uniform, striding toward you at breakneck speed with a towering pile of laundry balanced precariously in her arms. The type of character you'd expect to see in a black and white film from a bygone era. So, when she eventually took notice and spoke to you, her antiquated accent didn't come as a surprise.

"Room 51!" She exclaimed while breezing past. "One of the few rooms misfortune has yet to spread. Her brisk pace didn't falter. "Good luck!" She turned the corner, leaving you alone once more.

You paused, mind attempting to comprehend the numinous encounter that you had experienced mere seconds ago. Everything about the hotel was strange, but it didn't deter you from resuming your pursuit for a drink. You went left, praying it was the right way, relieved to spot the elevator doors wide open and waiting.

The sinister silence of the building had been weighing down on you since arrival, so the creaks and groans as the elevator descended were a welcomed reprieve. You found the quietness of the hotel perturbing; as if there was something, or someone, that you could neither see nor hear. Out of all the places you had visited that were supposedly 'haunted' the Hotel Cortez was the only one that you truly believed could be.

The doors opened, screeching across the floor in protest. A wave of familiarity rushed over you. Despite having spent barely ten minutes in the lobby, it was already so familiar to you. A home away from home. You guessed your attachment to the hotel was due to the history gnawing at its walls, wearing away at the structure while simultaneously adding a certain charm to it. Whilst inside, you could sense the many stories untold, lurking in the air, becoming a part of you.

In comparison, the lobby and bar felt strangely empty.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, you had noticed even from a distance that you were alone. A quick glance at your watch confirmed it was nearly 10pm. You would've expected to see a gaggle of businessmen drinking away their sorrows by now, yet even the bartender was missing. Was it not open?

As you approached, a gentle tune begun playing. A ballad: not quite melancholic, not quite cheerful. The coincidentally perfect timing convinced you to take a seat, if only to appreciate a moment of isolation in the company of good music. Perched at the bar, you rolled your head back with a sigh, finally feeling your joints loosen from the arduous journey.

"Wow..." The word was dragged out by a new voice, the stranger encircling you, then stepping into view as they took place behind bar. "An actual paying customer- well. Assuming you pay, that is." Her voice held an ounce of threat, though she had kind eyes. "I'm Liz, what can I get you?"

"Whatever's cheapest." You smiled, grasping your hands together and leaning forward.

"Let me guess. You're a student," She pointed an accusatory finger at you. "worrying about debt. Probably on a budget?"

You nodded.

"And every last dime you currently have went into this trip?"

"Spot on." Distracted by the idle conversation, you completely forgot about the drink until it was placed before you.

Liz grimaced pityingly. "Trust me, you're at the wrong hotel."

Taking a sip, you winced at the taste, opting to down it in one go. "As staff aren't you meant to be promoting it?"

"Well, yes I suppose." Wordlessly your glass was refilled. You watched as Liz poured from an unlabelled bottle, her eyes flickering up to something over your shoulder. "But if you don't believe me, then have a little chat with her..."

Before you had the chance to reassure Liz that you very much would like to hear what she had to say, someone slid into a seat a few spaces away. You didn't need to look up to know who it was.

"Sally. What can I get for you?"

Sally glanced in your direction and tried to smirk, though the expression didn't go beyond her eyes which were surrounded by smudged makeup, tear streaks staining her cheeks. "I'll have whatever she's having."

She was unique. A phantom of the past who screamed to be heard, unashamedly expressing herself in a way that you longed to. You weren't going to waste this opportunity.

"You're going to be disappointed." You swivelled round to face her. "I ordered the cheapest thing on the menu."

She let out a laugh, short and high pitched. "Doesn't matter. Everything tastes the same anyway." There was a genuine bitterness to her voice and glossiness to her eyes that you recognised as the hopelessness of a junkie. The type of person you'd been warned to avoid.

This only enticed you.

Taking your response as an invitation, she smoothly slid into the seat next to yours, mirroring your position by leaning in. Up close, the scent of her perfume was overwhelming, you were drowning in it with every breath you took. Neither said anything for a beat, both content staring at one another, certain of the other's intentions and willing to take it slowly. Savour every second of the chase.

"So, what brings you to the Cortez?"

You smiled to yourself, momentarily breaking eye contact with her. "A series of bad luck, really."

Liz ambled over to refill both your glasses. "That's the case for most people."

Sally looked up at her, quirked an eyebrow. It must've been some kind of silent communication between them as Liz responded by shaking her head almost imperceptibly. Nevertheless, she left shortly after, leaving you two alone with your drinks.

"My friend forgot to reserve a room in the hotel we'd all agreed on." You explained, purely to fill the silence left by Liz's departure.

"And how'd you find this place?" She seemed only mildly interested in the conversation, but was transfixed watching you.

You hid a smirk behind your glass, answering once you'd placed it back down. "A list of the most haunted locations in LA."

"Oh." She chuckled, reaching into the pocket of her coat folded on the seat to the right of her. "You're one of those psychos who gets off on the idea of seeing a ghost." Fumbling round for a minute, she eventually produced a packet of cigarettes.

"Actually, I don't believe in ghosts." For the first time in your life, the words sounded wrong. You weren't sure what had changed, but if you had to guess, it was something to do with the woman sitting beside you.

"Really?" She lifted the cigarette pack up for you to see. "Want one?"

"Sure." You watched her flip open the top, scowling at there being only one left. "Do you believe?"

"What? In ghosts?" Balancing the cigarette between her lips, she lit it with rehearsed ease, puffing out a mouthful of smoke and pausing to think. She eyed you up and down, a predatorial look dancing across her features. "You're looking at one."

She was insane.

You scoffed. "Not sure I'm drunk enough to believe that yet." You reached for the bottle Liz had generously left on the bar, pouring yourself another drink.

"How about something a little stronger?" Her voice tickled your ear, leaving you to wonder when she'd got so close. The cigarette was raised to inches away from your lips, her other arm slipping around your back as she shifted closer, trapping you. "Go on."

Your eyes flickered down, noticing the lipstick staining it. There was something so intimate about the act that gave you hesitance, as though she were offering you a binding contract: for what, you had no clue. Staring into her eyes, you felt that you would be willing to sell your soul for whatever this woman was offering.

Slowly, with eyes never leaving hers, you pressed the end to your lips and inhaled. It had been a while since you'd last smoked. The sensation was still vaguely familiar, although breathing something other than air felt a little like breathing underwater. A warmth filled your chest. The heat of the alcohol inflamed by the smoke in your lungs. One drag was enough for you. And for her to realise you were completely under her control.

In her mind, she had won.

Observing your every move, Sally bit her bottom lip, a supressed smile lifting up the corners of her mouth. She also looked to be on the verge of tears, though you suspected she often was. "Not many people appreciate this hotel." She sat back, taking another drag, waving the cigarette round as she spoke. "But I think you will."

---

You sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, unable to relax with the prospect of an approaching high. Sally was busy in her own world, preparing everything while softly humming the tune of a song you vaguely recognised. The scene was strangely normal, a distant sense of deja vu creeping up your spine. Not from your own own lifetime, but Sally's. As if you could see into her memories and sense what she elected to ignore: the regretful familiarity behind every action, a resigned sadness that she was gradually succumbing to.

Soon enough, Sally's cold hands were grasping your arm. Her attention solely focused on searching for a vein, yours stolen by the chance to admire her in a moment of distraction. She trailed a finger across your skin as though indulging in the feel of it, the warmth it emitted which she seemed to lack. You shivered and drew closer, your free hand resting on her waist. At the contact, she jolted, finally looking up at you. For a brief pause, you saw how she was taken aback at the closeness. You felt her breath fan across your face, the intimate act imploring you to lean forward just a little.

Her temporary display of vulnerability hardened into a mischievous smile. It was too late now.

"This shit is the best, I promise." Her hand lowered, resting the needle against your skin, posed to pierce at any moment.

You took a deep breath, clearing your mind of the previous temptation. "I'm counting on it."

A prick just below the crease of your elbow alerted you to the oncoming wave. Soon confirmed by a surge of euphoric energy suffusing across your entire body. From the tip of your head to the ends of your toes, all you could feel was pure bliss. Your vision was blurring, the world spinning all around you. And yet you still saw Sally. A taunting ghost of normalcy standing out in the heroin induced haze. A necessary grounding to Earth.

You were staring at her for an indiscriminate amount of time, and all the while she she was staring right back at you. Her hand raised, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The taste of her touch was addictive. You instantly craved more, chasing after her hand as it lowered, disappointed when she moved to stand up. She was leaving- but you weren't sure you could live without her anymore. It felt as though you lived purely for her, and that if she left, you'd simply cease to exist. Your hazy mind concluded that you needed to stop her from going.

As she went to walk past, you grabbed hold of her arm, though you were unsure of how strong of a grip to use. Too light and she might fade away, too tight and you would hurt her. With all the anxieties clouding your judgement you hadn't thought any further ahead. What were you supposed to do now? How should you keep her here?

A mix of confidence and panic prompted you to tug Sally towards you.

Thrown off balance by the unexpected movement, she fell down onto you. There was no hesitation this time. With both hands you grabbed her face, bringing her lips to crash against yours. Sally allowed herself to be dragged down as you fell backwards onto the bed. Your limbs settled into a tangled position, both of you too distracted to care. You bit down on her lip and she hissed in pain, encouraging her to press impossibly closer. The taste of blood created an unprecedented hunger within you as you longed for her to draw your own blood: to seal some kind of unspoken pact with equal sacrifice. Sally groaned when your leg shifted to press between her thighs, though you didn't have the energy to apply any real pressure.

All around you, the room seemed to dissolve into a dreamlike blur. It became impossible to focus on anything, your mind sent reeling and aching. The only respite from the nausea was keeping your eyes shut. Darkness did less damage than light. Your muscles relaxed, your body surrendering to exhaustion. It became tiresome to think, let alone pursue anything further with Sally. A twilight state of sleep was falling upon you, although the usual peace accompanying it was missing and fighting the sensation was futile. So, even when Sally's lips eventually left your own, you didn't bother to open your eyes.

You couldn't.

#hypodermic sally x reader #sally mckenna x reader

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slashbitch2 · 3 years

Text

For All Time Or For Lost Time

who will you choose?

Your gaze flickered between the two women stood either side of you; first to Sylvie, then to Ravonna. Neither one of them dared to return the eye contact, too fearful that the other would take advantage of their distraction and resume fighting. Though their stubbornness was not unexpected, part of you had been hoping that the imploring look could've given you an answer to the upcoming dreaded question. You'd hoped that either one would return the eye contact, and that you could therefore base your entire choice around that simple gesture. Instead, you were left reeling from indecision and guilt.

"Y/N, dear." Sylvie's words were sweet. The tone of her voice was not. "Could you move, please?"

"Don't listen to her." Ravonna didn't bother to hide her resentment behind endearments.

"Oh, and what else would you have her do?" This time Sylvie was speaking past you, directly addressing her opponent. "Stand there in harms way?"

"You won't do anything while she's standing there. That's hardly harms way."

"You sure you want to test that theory?" Sylvie spat, stepping closer." I have a pretty good aim."

"I'd like to see you try."

Although the position you had placed yourself in would've been precarious to most, you knew you'd be perfectly safe. Despite the ongoing rivalry, neither woman would ever do anything to harm you, regardless of how determined they were to win. However, listening to them talk as if you weren't there was quickly becoming bothersome.

"So you'd be willing to let Y/N get hurt rather than diminish your pride." Sylvie moved closer once more. "Yet claim to care about her."

Out of the two, Sylvie would be easier to provoke. So, you turned your full attention to her, placing a hand on either shoulder and halting her gradual approach. The gesture was enough for her to finally lock eyes with you, letting her guard down in the process. She softened slightly.

"It would've been your fault if she was hurt." Ravonna couldn't resist the temptation to insult her, and as intended, the statement aggravated Sylvie. She tried to shake off your calming touch, but you persisted, tightening your grip on her.

"Both of you, shut up." With the momentary lapse in verbal conflict, you seized the opportunity to intervene. All you wanted was a second of silence to consider your next words. There could be no more delays. You needed to face the decision at hand.

The last few days, (or day? you weren't honestly sure) had been simultaneously devastating and liberating. Everything you'd known and sought comfort in was torn away, replaced by new memories which sufficed to divide your very existence. You were conflicted, to say the least. Unsurprisingly, it all began with Sylvie- or the variant as you'd labelled her at the time. You knew little about her since the case was under Mobius' jurisdiction, and because Ravonna seemed adamant to keep you separate from it. Looking back, you now understood why...

During Sylvie's TVA break in, all the guards had immediately rushed to protect the Timekeepers, leaving you rather aimlessly wondering about the corridors in search of Ravonna. The entire building was in lockdown, and no one really knew what was happening beyond the highest ranking personnel. Still, you easily recognised the intruder when she eventually ran into you, clearly distinguishable from the others you'd seen rushing past in a panic. A variant among the homogeneous uniform of TVA workers.

Although, it seemed she recognised you too.

The variant appeared almost relieved, grabbing your arm to pull you along. Caught off guard by her reaction, you allowed yourself to be dragged with her. She was rambling nonsensical apologies and promises, occasionally sparing a glance back at you. The pure adoration and conviction in her eyes meant that each look held an unfathomable weight, and every word she uttered felt of great significance despite your disoriented state.

While leading you through the corridors, she attracted the attention of several guards whom she bested with ease. By the time she'd reached the door to the Timekeeper's chambers, you'd lost all hope, coming to the conclusion that she was deranged and planned on using you as leverage over the TVA. Though thankfully, the other Loki variant appeared before she could continue. You'd seen him working with Mobius and purposefully kept your distance thus far, but at this point he was your last chance of rescue.

With his arrival, all hell broke lose.

Swept up in the chaos, you ended up on Lamentis-1 and subsequently stranded there. Although the odds of survival were slim, you remained vigilant, trusting neither one of them and constantly searching for means to survive the apocalypse. So long as you could find a way off the planet, there was still the possibility that you could find a way back to the TVA, back to Ravonna.

It wasn't until you'd settled on the train that you let the variant, Sylvie, talk.

She explained how the TVA captured her younger self, dragged her before court to face punishment for a crime she hadn't intended to commit. She told you that behind her was a girl of a similar age, who she took pity on and helped during her escape. You. That girl was you. She recalled in astounding detail all of the time you spent together running from the TVA, how she ultimately fell in love with you, and the first and only time she was able to kiss you. She grimaced while admitting that the TVA stole you away, then lightened once more as she mentioned that she'd stolen you back.

When Sylvie had finished recounting your life story- your true life story, she offered to return your memories. You didn't refuse.

As soon as your eyes refocused and mind absorbed all the new, or rather, prior knowledge, Sylvie kissed you. Even with the desperate press of her lips against yours, you felt that you could finally breath again, no longer living a lie in ignorance. Although it didn't take long for you to start wondering whether that ignorance was bliss, since your old life certainly hadn't been bad. In fact it was, by comparison, significantly easier.

Yet situated at the centre of your conflicted stance was Ravonna.

While there were many positives to your TVA life, she stood out as one of the highlights. You had been in a committed relationship for eons now, and even if she played a part in the corrupt system, you still loved her. But it was also clear from your memories that you had loved Sylvie equally, and likely would again.

In conclusion: you were screwed.

Your grip on Sylvie loosened. It'd been foolish of you to assume an immediate answer would present itself in the moment. There was no obvious choice, and thinking about the past did nothing to help the future. You almost wished to share the same gift as the Timekeepers, or whoever was in charge, because then surely you would be able to see which was the better choice, even if it meant temporarily relinquishing your free will.

"Y/N?" Ravonna spoke quietly, gently luring you back into the present.

You glanced up at Sylvie. The previous anger was no where to be seen, instead, concern was etched across her face. The fight between the two of them had all but dissolved in place of shared worry for you and general apprehension.

"Y/N." Ravonna's voice urged you to turn around, and when Sylvie's gaze drifted toward her, yours did too.

She tentatively stepped closer, lowering her TVA baton. The action left her vulnerable to an attack, but Sylvie made no move to resume fighting. You silently thanked her, squeezing her arm before completely releasing her from your grip.

"I-" Her eyes flickered between the two of you, then dropped as she reached into her pocket. "This wasn't the time or place I had intended." She sighed, digging around for something as you watched with bated breath.

Sylvie gasped before you had even processed what sat in the palm of her hand. A small black box containing a ring. Ravonna was proposing.

She cleared her throat, evidently loathing Sylvie's invasive stare. "I know it's a lot to consider." You could practically see her clenching her teeth together, reluctant to display sentimentality in front of anyone beside you. "And whether you accept or not, I'll respect your decision." She shot a resentful yet restrained glare to Sylvie, then extended her spare hand. "Truce?"

You found yourself unable to move, let alone think or feel the tension in the air as the blonde approached.

"Truce." She repeated in a low voice, shaking Ravonna's hand.

The two of them turned back to you, waiting expectantly. What the hell were you supposed to do now?

#ravonna renslayer x reader #sylvie laufeydottir x reader #sylvie x reader #ravonna x reader #ravonna lexus renslayer x reader

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slashbitch2 · 3 years

Text

Lying To Her Love

i noticed there were no fics for lorraine and felt i had to remedy that

also no hate to ed he's a dilf

Lorraine wasn't really sure what prompted her to stray from the group. Conjecture would be the only way to describe it: a sudden desire to distance herself from Ed, to explore the house alone. A new feeling had also arisen deep inside, in her chest if she had to place it, similar to a compass. Like there was an internal needle pointing in the direction she was supposed to go, and she chose to trust this instinct. Though thus far her inference skills had brought about nothing but terrifying situations.

And unfortunately, it seemed this time would be no different...

The needle slowly spun round to point out a set of stairs leading down toward the basement. A layer of dust had settled upon each step, indicating that no one had ventured down so far, which only served to intrigue her further. How, in a paranormal investigation, had no one thought to check the basement? As she drew closer, Lorraine realised there was a very faint set of footsteps. They were too imperceptible to have been made recently, yet the house had supposedly been uninhabited since the disturbances began over a week ago.

Had it not been for the very insistent compass directing her down, the footsteps would've been convincing enough. Careful not to unsettle the evidence, she began to descend down the staircase, one hand tracing along the brick wall as if to ground herself in reality. With each step she could feel a weight bearing down on her chest, a dizzy wave rushing over her. At one point the sensation grew so overwhelming that she had to pause and close her eyes. Whilst stood still, the strange pressure that had been building up in her ears reached its peak. Without opening her eyes, Lorraine knew she'd crossed over to one of her prescience visions.

However, when she eventually did open them, it was to find everything exactly as she'd left it. There were no indications that anything had changed, except for the familiar feeling that she was watching through someone else's eyes. Or rather, watching what someone else wanted her to. She'd been brought here for a reason, and by god she was going to get to the bottom of this. Reinvigorated by a new determination, she practically skipped past the last few steps and onto the cold basement floor.

Here Lorraine found the first confirmation that she was no longer in reality: natural light flooding in from no visible source. It was a welcomed change from the gloom of late evening she'd left behind, but only made her more weary of whatever she was about to encounter since it was clearly trying to lure her into a false sense of security. Nonetheless, she cautiously ambled further into the open space. In fact, it was eerie how empty the room was. Usually she'd be climbing over piles of abandoned objects, trying to give equal attention to each one which often invoked fabrications of the mind. However, here there was nothing for her brain to work with, save for the occasional movement out the corner of her eye that she knew was nothing more than fiction to fill the void and warrant her apprehension.

By the time she'd reached the opposite end of the room, nothing yet had occurred to explain why she'd been dragged into this particular vision. And then, an abrupt, horrifying possibility dawned on her. What if she was stuck here? It had never happened before, but then again, in most cases 'the cause' would've revealed itself by now.

Although, with this realisation came another equally strange one. Lorraine could feel no fear, no panic, no negative emotions. All she was aware of was complete relaxation. Even her most horrific memories and upsetting images couldn't create any response. They were nothing but distant stories told by a different version of her. The positive aura filling the room started to shift into something else, into an almost crippling pleasure. It was both intense and insufficient. She found herself clutching at her stomach, as if she'd suddenly been made aware of an incapacitating emptiness. She longed for company, yet the idea of returning to reality appeared an incredibly unappealing one. Instead, Lorraine wanted to fall further into this dreamlike pleasure.

But that was what it wanted.

With great difficulty, and an exclamation of discomfort, Lorraine turned on her heels to begin her escape. Though she halted upon catching sight of a figure stood before her. She compelled herself to push past the profound ache lingering in her gut, standing up straight to face this mysterious being. Here she came across the second confirmation that this wasn't reality, not that she needed it anymore. You were indescribably beautiful, radiating a sort of divine light like an alluring beacon of possibility.

Most spectres or demons Lorraine met were the opposite. They enveloped the light around them, constructed a dark gap in which there was nothing but pain and regret. They represented everything that couldn't be. A screaming phantom that reminded her to appreciate life.

But you-

You represented all that could've been without any guilt or anguish. You emanated both warm nostalgia and burning desire, the effects of which were palpable for anyone who could tune into the energy, and Lorraine was being strongly subjected to it. Though first and foremost, she had a job to do.

She swallowed, refocused her attention to the task at hand. "Why-" Another wave of dizzying desire washed over her. She tried again. "Why are you-" The world around her was spinning. She blinked rapidly to try stave off vertigo, but stumbled anyway.

A cool reprieve from the searing pleasure caught hold of her. Using the embrace for support she stabilized herself only to come face to face with you.

Despite your overpowering influence on her, you appeared surprisingly human up close. Normal enough to blend in with reality, but sufficiently attractive to be memorable. Still there was something irresistible to your appearance that encouraged Lorraine to sink further into your hold, to move her hands to wrap around the back of your neck. She hadn't felt so loved since early on in her relationship with Ed...

Ed.

She shouldn't be doing this. Her marriage commitment ought to have her fighting against you- but that was practically inconceivable. Besides, how could something morally wrong feel so right? No, this wasn't infidelity. She wasn't exactly sure what it was, but not that. She would never cheat on Ed.

The temptation was intoxicating. Lorraine's hands started to trace patterns along any available skin, savouring the unfamiliar yet exhilarating sensation. You weren't a living breathing person so there was something different about the way you felt that she was eager to investigate. In response to her caress, you brought one hand up to cup her cheek, maintaining intimidating yet intimate eye contact. The touch emitted pure pleasure and Lorraine gasped as she leant into the contact. Time seemed to slow as neither moved, opting to stare at the other in silence instead.

She was vaguely aware that time moved differently in her visions. That the longer she spent in one, the more time had passed upon return. Though currently it was the least of her worries. All she could focus on right now was you and the close proximity that appeared to be narrowing still. Your gaze had dropped to the lower half of her face. Lorraine did the same, her eyes fixating on your lips. However, before you closed the gap she raised a hand, motivated by a new desire. She was shaking slightly, but ignored it to gently brush a finger along your lips. She wanted a taste of the upcoming kiss, and was pleasantly unsurprised. As expected, the touch only reasserted her conviction.

She'd never wanted anything- anyone- as much as she did now.

Suddenly your mouth was upon hers, bringing cooling bliss with it. Lorraine moaned. She felt again a rush of possibilities, the surging tide of everything that could be. The muted uncertainty at the back of her mind blurred into nothingness as she clung onto you. Your mouth was the only solid thing in a swaying world, and she planned on indulging herself in the addictiveness of it. She parted her lips, provoking insatiable tremors along her nerves and another rush of giddiness. She felt young, as if she were experiencing intimacy for the first time again.

Your hands were everywhere, carrying an influx pleasure. She'd never felt anything quite like it. Time became irrelevant, everything except you was meaningless. She was lost to an eternity of bliss, in a realm of endless fulfilment. It was incomprehensible, otherworldly.

And then it was over.

She hadn't noticed she was lightly crying, or trembling so much. Or that she was on the ground. You'd simply disappeared and she'd collapsed. But someone was holding her now, someone else.

"Lorraine!" Ed was crouching before her, gently shaking her out of the dreamlike state and back to consciousness. She'd never loathed him so much for saving her.

"What happened?" He asked, lowering to meet her eyes. "Are you okay?"

She scoffed, her mind trying to comprehend all that'd just happened. She was left reeling from the sudden weight of Ed's touch and separated from him. "I'm fine." Her voice barely breached a whisper.

"Did you see anything?"

Lorraine finally met his eyes, but she couldn't tell him.

"No." She answered. "There's nothing here." She lied.

#lorraine warren x reader #vera farmiga x reader #lorraine warren

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