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just-aake · 1 month

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Who Would Sit at Your Grave the Longest?

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Who would ever mourn the life of a trained spy and assassin?

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, violence, mention of death, scenes from Marvel movies, multiple time skips

Words: 11,010

Red Room, Unknown — 2002

“If you passed away, who would sit at your grave the longest?”

It was a strange question, posed by one of the girls in the Red Room. The answers from the others are what one would expect – mom, dad, siblings, friends.

People they remembered from their lives before.

People who loved them.

With so many choices, it was difficult for some to decide who would fill that position.

Natasha, however, didn’t need any time to consider her answer.

She raises the gun in her hand and fires multiple shots at the practice target, each one hitting a fatal area. After the last bullet, she removes the empty magazine with practiced ease, reloads the gun, and aims at the target once again.

“Who would sit at her grave the longest?”

Her grip wavers slightly at the thought, but Natasha takes a short, steadying breath before steeling herself.

Consecutive shots ring out in the room, hitting the target with perfect precision and demonstrating why she is one of the most feared assassins in the world.

For Natasha, the answer was clear.

“No one.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Abandoned Building, Budapest - 2003

With a tired sigh, Natasha leans her head against the wall of the abandoned building. She lifts her hand from her side, grimacing at the sight of blood covering her palm.

With a slight wince, she presses it against the wound again and glances at the person sitting across from her.

His head hangs limply against his chest, his own hand pressing against a wound on his stomach. If not for his shallow breathing, Natasha would have thought he was already dead.

Taking a deep breath, she nudges him with her boot. “Hey, Barton, you still with me?”

He stirs slightly at her words, becoming more alert, and chuckles softly. “I knew you had a heart, Romanoff.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at his comment, turning her gaze to the distance, searching for any sign of backup from his organization.

Clint Barton had been the first to see something different in her—something better—and had offered her a way out of her previous life.

Now, the one person who might actually care about her existence was dying right in front of her.

A coughing fit seizes Clint at that moment, and a trickle of blood escapes his lips.

“If your people don’t arrive here soon—”

Before she could finish, the sound of an engine fills the air as a quinjet lands nearby, kicking up a whirl of dust.

Spotting the SHIELD logo, Natasha quickly stands, grunting as she pulls Clint up and slings his arm over her shoulder, dragging him toward the plane.

“Over here!” she shouts to the disembarking crew.

The agents at the front eye her warily, cautiously raising their weapons until they recognize Barton and realize his condition. They quickly rushed to help, taking her place and carrying him onto the quinjet.

Natasha shuffles forward slowly, keeping a close eye on them to ensure they’re handling him carefully.

Suddenly, a hand brushes her side, startling her. Instinctively, she grips the wrist and yanks it away, only to find herself locking eyes with you, surprise evident on your face.

Her glare is sharp, a silent warning, but you furrow your brows and pull your hand free, undeterred by her reaction.

“You’re injured too,” you point out, trying to examine the wound on her side.

“I’m fine,” Natasha grits out, swallowing hard against the pain. “You should be taking care of Agent Barton.”

She tries to sidestep you, but her strength falters as the adrenaline starts to fade, and she stumbles. Bracing herself for a hard landing, she’s surprised when a pair of arms catches her before she can fall.

Leaning her head on your shoulder, Natasha takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself and shake off the wave of dizziness.

“He has enough people,” you say firmly, your voice resolute. “I can focus on taking care of you.”

With that, you adjust her gently in your arms and start guiding her toward the quinjet.

“Come on, you’re not dying today.”

You say it with such certainty and determination that Natasha can’t help but believe you.

As you walk, she glances at the side of your face, her curiosity piqued.

“How strange,” Natasha muses to herself, “to have found another person who seems to care about her existence.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Stark Mansion, Malibu - 2010

After pretending to be impressed by Stark’s demonstration of the Iron Man armored glove and its repulsor beam, Natasha quietly slips away as Miss Potts confronts him for his reckless behavior.

At the private bar, Natasha prepares more drinks, anticipating Tony’s inevitable request for another round.

“This is quite the birthday party,” a voice comments from behind.

Natasha turns her head to find you leaning casually on the opposite side of the bar countertop, giving her a friendly smile.

Since her initial encounter with you after joining SHIELD, Natasha hasn’t had the opportunity to work with you again, only spotting you in passing until now.

She raises a questioning brow at you, curious about your presence and wondering how she missed you being part of the team for this mission.

“It seems you’ve gained Mr. Stark’s trust pretty well,” you remark, referring to her little performance earlier.

Returning to her task, Natasha responds as she continues to pour the drinks.

“It’s not hard. He’s a textbook narcissist.”

A loud clatter erupts from the other room and interrupts the conversation, prompting both of you to look at the sound in alertness.

Tony picks himself up from where he stumbled into the DJ booth, then throws his arms up in the air with a cheer, eliciting an excited response from the crowd.

Spotting how he leans heavily on the table for support, Natasha shakes her head and continues her observations.

“His condition is worsening, though. He’ll need something to take the edge off soon.”

From the corner of her eyes, Natasha notices your expression become contemplative as you tilt your head and observe her curiously.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing,” you reply with a small shake of your head. “It’s just nice of you to worry about your new friend.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at that.

Tony Stark is just a potential candidate for the Avenger Initiative that she’s been assigned to assess. From what she’s seen, he cares less about being her friend than she does.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Natasha asserts, turning around with the tray of finished drinks.

You smoothly pluck a glass from the tray before Natasha can stop you and sip it nonchalantly, unbothered by her glare. Still, Natasha can’t help but smirk slightly, amused by your bold action.

Setting the empty glass down, you glance at Tony, who is still playing to the crowd.

“No harm in building genuine friendships,” you comment before nodding at the billionaire.

“Anyway, lucky for him, Fury agrees. He wants to meet with Mr. Stark soon,” you reveal.

Natasha’s brows knit together in confusion.

“Fury sent you just to tell me that?”

You turn your gaze back to her, a small grin tugging at the corner of your lips as you push yourself off the counter.

“Me coming here was more of a personal choice.”

Her eyes narrow in suspicion, still puzzled by your answer.

“Why would you do that?”

With a light chuckle, you meet her gaze, a slight smirk playing on your lips.

“Maybe I just wanted to see the legendary Black Widow in action,” you admit, your tone teasing, before turning to walk away.

For a moment, Natasha is left stunned, her mind racing to make sense of your reasoning. But as you disappear from view, a sudden sensation tightens in her chest. She quickly sets the tray down and moves around the counter, her instincts urging her to follow you.

Just as she takes a step forward, a deafening crash reverberates through the building.

Whirling toward the source of the noise, Natasha’s eyes widen as she spots Tony, now clad in his Iron Man armor, locked in a fierce struggle with one of his other mech suits.

Natasha groans, rolling her eyes as she braces herself to clean up yet another one of Stark’s infamous messes.

She wonders how you could think this man could ever be among those she’d considered a friend.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Stark Tower, New York City - 2012

With the portal closed and the battle over, Natasha and the other newly assembled Avengers gather on the top floor of the Stark Tower to complete the final task of apprehending Loki.

“Alright, get him on his feet,” Tony says, gesturing at the defeated god sprawled on the floor. His Iron Man suit begins to disengage from his body as he walks away.

“Oh, and by the way, feel free to clean up,” he remarks to the others, waving at the destroyed room left in the aftermath of the battle.

Natasha rolls her eyes at his words before focusing on the piece of metal in her hands. She taps Loki’s scepter gently against her palm and asks, “So, who gets the magic wand?”

Standing near the shelves filled with various bottles of alcohol, Clint retrieves two glass cups and answers, “Strike team’s coming to secure it.”

As he finishes speaking, the strike team steps out of the elevator, carrying a large case.

“We can take that,” an agent offers, heading towards her.

“By all means,” Natasha replies, handing it to them and walking toward Clint. Out of the corner of her eyes, she notices one of the agents examining the staff’s point with their hand.

“Careful with that thing,” she warns.

Clint nods in agreement as he hands her a glass, “Unless you want your mind erased, and not the fun way.”

As they both turn around toward the bar, the cups are taken from their hands.

“And I’ll take these,” you declare, placing them on the counter.

“Medical team is also here,” you announce with a smirk, placing your hands on your hips. “Which means the agent with blood dripping from their head should have a seat.”

Natasha and Clint exchange glances to see who you’re referring to.

“Looks like you’re going first,” Clint declares happily, patting Natasha on her shoulder and stepping around you–not before sneakily taking back his cup.

When Natasha doesn’t move, you cross your arms and tilt your head at her with a raised brow.

“Well, are you going to sit, or do I need to wait until you fall on me again?”

Natasha huffs in amusement at the reminder before taking a seat on the barstool, giving you space to come closer.

Stepping forward, you place yourself between her legs and gently brush back her hair as you examine her forehead.

“Doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches, so that’s good,” you comment.

Natasha clicks her tongue in mock disappointment.

“No scar? That’s a shame.”

Your lips twitch upward slightly at her words, and Natasha grins proudly, knowing she almost made you smile.

As you clean her wound, your hands move delicately across her skin, treating her with the utmost care.

Noticing your closeness, Natasha takes a moment to observe you, intrigued at how comfortable you are around her. She was so absorbed in watching you that she almost missed your next words.

“You all make a good team.”

At the mention of the others, Natasha glances over at them across the room, talking and jostling each other in a friendly fashion.

It’s admittedly an odd bunch that Fury managed to assemble: a demi-god, a super soldier, a billionaire tech genius, a scientist with an angry alter ego, and a couple of master assassins.

“Not what I imagined, but surprisingly, it turned out okay,” Natasha admits.

After finishing the bandages, your hand drifts from her hair to gently cup her face, lifting it to meet your eyes.

“You came together, trusted each other, and had each other’s backs—all within just a few days,” you say, your voice steady with conviction. “That’s more than just okay.”

You give her a soft smile, tilting your head lightly.

“It’s actually pretty incredible…and so are you.”

Natasha’s eyes widen at your words, leaving her speechless.

A familiar warmth stirs in her chest, similar to the sensation she felt the last time she met you—a subtle yet undeniable pull towards you.

The intensity of your gaze draws her in, making her feel connected to you in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

Her fingers fidget in her lap as she considers bridging the small gap between you. She raises her hand hesitantly, about to reach out—

“Romanoff!” Tony calls, causing Natasha to withdraw her hand and turn her head, inadvertently making your hand fall from her face, much to her disappointment.

He and the others are gathered by the elevator, looking in her direction. Tony waves his hand in a hurried gesture.

“Hurry it up with the doctor-patient roleplay! The shawarma’s going to get cold.”

Natasha glares at him for the interruption before returning her attention to you.

“Shawarma?” you ask with a questioning tilt of your head.

She shakes her head exasperatedly.

“I don’t know. Tony wants to try it.”

You hum in understanding and take a step back.

“Well, that bandage should be fine for now, but you’ll need a more thorough check-up when you return.”

Natasha leans forward slightly, a small smirk playing on her lips as she teases, “By you?”

You meet her smirk with an amused smile. “We’ll see.”

Accepting that she won’t get a definitive answer, Natasha nods and stands. As she’s about to pass by you, a thought crosses her mind, and she pauses beside you.

“What about you?” she asks.

You look up from where you’re packing your things. “What about me?”

Natasha huffs lightly at your evasiveness, ready to respond, but she hesitates. Her usual confidence falters, and uncertainty flickers in her eyes for a brief moment as they meet yours.

After everything she’s been through, Natasha is still unsure whether she deserves to feel this way about someone—to want to not feel alone.

Noticing her hesitation, your expression softens, and you offer an understanding smile. With a gentle push on her back, you urge her forward.

“Go, you deserve to celebrate this win with your team,” you say, your voice calm and encouraging.

Before Natasha can reply, Tony calls out again.

“The elevator’s going to leave without you, Romanoff,” he warns.

You give her an encouraging nod, and with a light sigh, she makes her way to the elevator, where the others are already waiting inside.

Tony leans casually against the elevator doors, arms crossed and a teasing grin on his face.

Before he can make a comment, Natasha gives him a shove, pushing him inside, and quickly presses the button. As the doors close, she catches one last glimpse of your little wave at her before you disappear from view.

Reflecting on your words, Natasha glances around at the people beside her. Surrounded by her new teammates, she begins to realize that maybe, she’s not so alone anymore, after all.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

National Mall, Washington, D.C. – 2014

Natasha lets go of the back of Steve’s neck, breaking the kiss, and turns around casually on the escalator. With their fake display of affection, Rumlow and the other SHIELD agents do not spare them a glance as they search the mall.

She steps off the escalator smoothly and glances slightly over her shoulder at the super soldier.

“You still uncomfortable?”

Steve clears his throat lightly, trying to regain his composure.

“It’s not exactly the word I would use.”

The two walk calmly until they reach the path leading to the underground parking garage. As they pass through the doors, Natasha notices Steve’s awkward silence and decides to tease him a little.

“Don’t tell me you’re still flustered from that kiss, Rogers?”

Steve sighs at her teasing, “No, I just wasn’t expecting–”

As they round a corner, Natasha and Steve abruptly come to a stop, finding themselves face-to-face with a SHIELD agent.

He eyes them suspiciously, his hand moving toward his walkie-talkie.

Reacting swiftly, Steve tackles him before he can alert the others, and the two engage in a fierce fistfight.

Natasha steps forward to assist, but before she can reach them, someone grabs her from behind and throws her against a concrete column. She groans in surprise as pain radiates from the impact.

Before she can recover, a body pins her against the wall, an arm pressing against her collarbone.

Natasha’s hands instinctively push against the pressure as she focuses on her attacker. Her eyes widen in surprise at who she sees.

“Since when are you a part of the strike team?” she grunts out.

You frown slightly and nod toward Steve.

“Since Captain America took down most of their men, and they had to pull others from different teams,” you explain before giving her a questioning look. “You do know he’s wanted by SHIELD, right?”

“Yes,” Natasha grits out, raising her knee sharply, catching you off guard.

The sudden pain in your side forces you to loosen your grip just enough for her to slip out. With a swift motion, Natasha twists her body, reversing your positions, and slams you against the wall, pinning you there.

“Do you know why SHIELD wants you to hunt him?” Natasha challenges.

Despite being pinned, your expression remains calm as you raise a brow at her.

“What happened to the Black Widow who followed every order—no questions asked?”

Natasha pauses, thinking about the anger and sense of loss she felt after Fury’s sudden death—one of the few who had become an important figure in her life. He was betrayed, and she was determined to find out who was behind it, even if it meant going against orders.

“I’m trying something new,” Natasha answers.

To her surprise, a smile spreads across your face, and you remark proudly, “Good.”

It’s then Natasha notices you aren’t even trying to break free from your pinned position. Your hands hang limply at your sides, offering no resistance.

Slowly, Natasha lowers her arm from your chest and takes a small step back, allowing you to lean against the wall on your own.

You make no move to attack her.

Before Natasha can question your intentions, the walkie-talkie at your side crackles to life with incoming communication.

“Anything in the lower levels?” Rumlow’s voice asks.

Your eyes drift down to the device at the request for an answer. As your hand reaches for the walkie-talkie, Steve, having just dealt with the other agent, rushes toward you.

But Natasha quickly stops him, holding out her to block his path. She watches you calmly as you raise the walkie to your mouth, maintaining eye contact with her the entire time.

“Negative in the parking garage,” you respond.

Rumlow’s frustrated growl sounds through the speaker. “Expand the search area and sweep the floors again.”

“Understood.”

With that, you casually toss the walkie aside and raise your hands in surrender. When Natasha and Steve remain still, you give them a pointed look.

“Shouldn’t the two of you be looking for a way to escape?” you suggest, your tone laced with a hint of urgency.

Understanding your intentions, Steve gives you an appreciative nod and gently touches Natasha’s arm.

“I’ll go find us a ride,” he says.

“Okay,” Natasha replies with a nod, watching as Steve heads off in search of a vehicle.

When she turns back to you, she notices a slight frown on your face as your arms cross over your chest.

“You two seem closer,” you observe.

Natasha chuckles softly, catching the hint of displeasure in your tone.

“Aren’t you the one who told me to make friends?”

You huff in response, giving her a tiny glare before walking past her.

As you examine the unconscious agent on the ground, a thoughtful hum escapes you, clearly contemplating your next move.

Sensing your dilemma, Natasha steps beside you and offers, “You could always come with us.”

You shake your head and turn to her with a slight smirk.

“Three’s a crowd,” you reply before taking a step closer, tilting your head curiously. “Did you really kiss him?”

Realizing you must have overheard her earlier comment, Natasha starts to explain.

“It was just a cover.”

She watches you carefully as you take another step closer, leaving only a small gap between your bodies. Feeling slightly distracted, Natasha swallows lightly and continues, unsure why she feels the need to explain herself further.

“Public displays of affection make people very…”

Natasha’s words trail off as you place your hands on her waist and lean in slightly with a tilt of your head.

“…uncomfortable,” she finishes softly, her eyes falling to your lips, which curve up slightly at her attention.

Her pulse quickens, and for a moment, the world around the two of you fades, leaving only the charged tension in the air between you.

That familiar, tempting feeling stirs within her again.

She lifts her eyes to meet yours, noticing the amusement dancing in your gaze.

“Are you uncomfortable?” you whisper, the words softly caressing her lips.

Natasha finds herself leaning forward as she responds with a breathless sigh, “No.”

Just as the space between you is about to disappear, you abruptly pull back, removing your hands from her hips and stepping away.

“Good to know,” you say with a playful grin. You raise your hand to reveal a tiny taser disk between your fingers. “Do you mind if I borrow this?”

Still stunned by your sudden move, Natasha remains frozen, too shocked to react to the revelation of the item you swiped from her.

You chuckle at her silence, tilting your head playfully.

“Catch me?” you request before activating the device and delivering an electric shock to yourself.

Recovering quickly, Natasha catches you as you slump forward, wrapping her arms around you and gently lowering you to the ground.

With a small huff of disbelief, Natasha cups your unconscious face, caressing your cheek with a fond touch.

You always know how to leave her speechless.

A truck pulls up beside her, and Steve leans out from the driver’s seat. “Ready to go?”

Natasha takes a moment to make sure you’re positioned comfortably before nodding and hopping into the passenger seat.

As they drive toward New Jersey, the silence eventually gives way to their earlier conversation.

“Really? Nobody special, though?” Natasha asks, glancing over at Steve.

Steve sighs, a touch of exasperation in his voice.

“Believe it or not, it’s kind of hard to find someone with shared life experiences,” he replies, then gestures toward her. “And what about you? You keep urging me to go on dates, but it doesn’t seem like you’re taking any steps in your love life either.”

He nudges her arm encouragingly, adding, “That agent earlier seemed interested.”

Natasha smirks at his observation, her gaze drifting to the window as the trees blur past. After a pause, she answers, her voice thoughtful.

“I don’t know. People usually want something real,” she says, her eyes distant, as if she’s seeing something far beyond the road. She turns to Steve with a small, sad smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Nothing about me is.”

Steve remains silent for a moment, processing her words.

“You know, you’ll never find out if someone can accept you until you let them see the real you,” he says gently, his tone firm yet understanding.

“Yeah…” Natasha whispers, almost to herself.

Her thoughts wander to her secretive past, the parts of herself hidden from the world. If you knew who she really was, would you still trust her? Or would you leave her, like so many others had?

Her entire life, people wanted her to be something for them—a killer, a spy, a tool. Everyone had their own agenda.

She turns back to Steve, a curious glint in her eyes. “Who do you want me to be?”

Steve meets her gaze, sincerity in his expression. “How about a friend?” he suggests, his words simple yet filled with meaning.

Natasha laughs, starting with disbelief but gradually softening into something more genuine.

Shaking her head, she imagines what her past self would think of her now—a person trying to be more open to others.

“Maybe I could manage that,” she decides, her tone lighter than ever before.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Avengers Tower, New York City – 2015

Laughter fills the common room of the Avengers Tower as everyone takes turns trying to lift Thor’s hammer. With one last grunt, Steve lets go and shakes his head in defeat, returning to his seat with a chuckle.

“Alright, be honest, it’s rigged,” Tony remarks to Thor. “The handle is imprinted. The one who is worthy is the one with Thor’s fingerprints, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Clint agrees with a laugh, clinking his bottle with Natasha’s. He sits on the floor, leaning against her seat, and takes another sip.

Natasha chuckles lightly and brings her bottle up for a drink, only to pull it away and see it’s empty. She looks at it in confusion, wondering when she had finished it.

A hand takes the empty bottle from her, and Natasha turns to see you sitting on the arm of her chair, giving her an amused smile.

“You finished it two attempts ago,” you reveal.

“Were you watching me the entire time?” Natasha asks with a playful smirk.

You return her expression with a slight smirk of your own and lean in closer, your hand sliding against the back of her chair.

“Well, it’s hard to pay attention to anyone else when you’re around,” you reply.

Before Natasha can respond, Tony claps his hands together, exclaiming, “Alright, who’s next? Romanoff? Hill?”

Maria shakes her head as she stands and heads to the bar. “I’m going to have to pass.”

Chuckling lightly, you stand also and give Natasha an encouraging touch on her shoulder.

“You have fun. I’m going to get us another round.”

Natasha’s eyes follow you the entire time as you walk away. When she finally turns back around, she notices Steve giving her a pointed look.

“What?” she questions, arching a brow.

“Come on, you and her. It’s obvious there’s something between you two,” Steve insists.

“Don’t bother, Cap. She’s not going to be convinced. I’ve tried,” Clint chimes in, earning a tiny kick from Natasha in reprimand.

“Ow, see what I mean.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

“We flirt,” she defends with a shrug. “It’s what we’ve always done. Just some innocent fun.”

Tony, overhearing the exchange, joins the conversation with a nod toward something behind her.

“Yeah, well, it’s not looking so innocent over there,” he remarks.

Natasha furrows her brows and turns to look at the bar. Her frown deepens at what she sees.

You and Maria are talking and laughing together, with the latter leaning a bit too close for Natasha’s comfort.

“Hey, take it from someone who knows. You don’t want to wait before it’s too late,” Steve advises.

Natasha considers his words as she watches the two of you, contemplating what she should do.

You and she have grown and maintained this comfortable dynamic for years. Of course, there’s an undeniable attraction, but Natasha isn’t sure if taking things further would be worth the risk of losing what she already has with you.

However, when Maria leans forward to whisper something in your ear, Natasha suddenly finds herself rising from her chair and heading toward the bar.

Just as you duck down to grab something from the bottom shelves, Maria takes the opportunity to slip away, passing by Natasha with a pat on the shoulder and a whispered, “Good luck.”

Frowning in confusion, Natasha glances back to see Maria and Clint exchanging a high-five. Realizing she’s been set up, Natasha turns to retreat to her seat before you notice her.

But it’s too late.

“Oh, hey, I’m almost finished with the drinks,” you call out, straightening with a grin as you spot her.

With her escape route cut off, Natasha decides to sit at the counter, her earlier irritation melting away when she meets your gaze.

“You sure you’re not getting distracted over here?” Natasha teases, her tone playful.

You laugh lightly as you secure the top of the shaker, shaking it with practiced ease, your eyes never leaving hers.

“Only if you’re the distraction,” you tease back.

Natasha relaxes at the warmth of the familiar banter, putting her at ease as she watches you finish preparing the drinks and pour them into two glasses.

You slide one across the counter to her and nod curiously toward the gathered group.

“You didn’t want to try to lift the hammer?” you ask with a curious tilt of your head.

“Oh, no,” Natasha replies, shaking her head slightly as she raises her glass to her lips. “No, that’s not a question that I need answered.”

“Really?” you respond, leaning forward on the counter, bringing yourself closer to her. Your hand inches toward hers, brushing her fingers lightly and letting the touch linger.

With a slight smirk, you raise a brow. “Then what is?”

That familiar feeling stirs in Natasha’s chest again as she holds your gaze—the temptation to close the distance between you two growing stronger.

Recalling Steve’s advice, Natasha swallows nervously and answers in a soft whisper, “Something probably only you can help me with.”

Intrigued, you gesture for her to continue, your attention entirely on her.

“There’s this thing—this feeling,” Natasha begins cautiously. “It appears during certain situations, like a pressure in my chest.”

You furrow your brows in concern. “Does it hurt?”

Natasha chuckles lightly, her gaze dropping to the drink you made for her, swirling it gently. The small ripples are nothing compared to the pounding of her heart at that moment.

“Sometimes,” she admits, her eyes drifting to your hand beside hers. She’s tempted to intertwine them but ultimately decides against it.

“It feels like I’m standing on the edge,” Natasha explains, meeting your eyes again. “I know what’s waiting for me if I turn and walk away, but if I choose to fall…”

She releases a shaky breath.

“…I don’t know what that future looks like, and that terrifies me.”

Your expression softens with understanding. You reach out, this time more deliberately, and your fingers find hers with gentle assurance.

Natasha clears her throat lightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she tries to mask the vulnerability of her confession.

“So what should I do?” she asks, her tone teasing, an attempt to deflect the seriousness of the moment.

You chuckle softly, recognizing her attempt to lighten the mood.

“I think—”

The sound of scratching metal against the floor interrupts the conversation as Natasha and everyone in the room turn to look at the dilapidated robot that has just dragged itself in front of them.

The moments after that are chaotic as she and the Avengers have to deal with Ultron’s threat to the world.

New Avengers Facility, Upstate New York

With Ultron defeated and most of the original members either retired or off on their own adventures, Natasha watches bittersweetly as Steve welcomes the new recruits to the Avengers.

Footsteps approach and stop beside her, and Natasha doesn’t need to look to know who it is.

“The new team looks good,” you comment, your eyes scanning the mix of familiar and new faces before glancing at Natasha’s expression.

“Do you miss them?” you ask softly, understanding the emotions behind her eyes.

Natasha sighs, her gaze still fixed on the newcomers.

“Nothing lasts forever,” she replies, a touch of sadness in her voice but not surprised. She’s accustomed to things not staying a part of her life.

You hum thoughtfully, considering her words before declaring with quiet conviction, “Well, you won’t have to worry about that with me.”

Natasha turns to look at you with a curious tilt of her head.

You offer her a small, reassuring smile.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, your words laced with promise.

A soft smile spreads across Natasha’s face at your assurance, feeling the familiar warmth blossoming in her chest.

“You never answered my question,” she reminds you, referring to the conversation that was interrupted earlier.

Natasha waits, her nerves on edge as you consider your response. Finally, you meet her gaze with a soft expression, placing a gentle hand on her arm.

“You should do whatever feels right for you,” you say sincerely, giving her arm a comforting squeeze before turning to leave.

Natasha looks down, a slight shake of her head and a light huff of amusement escaping her as she recognizes your deflection.

“But if you want my opinion…” you add, pausing at the doorway, prompting Natasha to look back up at you.

Lingering at the threshold, you offer her a playful smirk. “… I’d say, based on my track record, I’ve caught you when you’ve fallen before.” You shrug lightly. “And it seems like everything has turned out fine since then.”

Your smile widens as you notice Natasha rendered speechless once again before you turn to leave the room.

Recovering quickly, Natasha strides after you with determination. She catches up to you this time, gently taking your hand and turning you around to face her.

Cupping your cheek, she leans in and kisses you, pouring all her emotions into the gesture.

Before she can even worry that she might have made a mistake, you wrap your arms around her, pulling her closer as you deepen the kiss, your lips moving fervently against hers.

The world around Natasha fades away, leaving only the two of you in that moment, and she knows she made the right decision.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Leipzig-Halle Airport, Leipzig – 2016

Natasha looks across the airport at the people she had come to call friends and then back at those standing beside her. As the two sides rush at each other and engage in battle, she can’t help but wonder how it came to this—how they all decided that fighting each other was the only option left.

She’s not even sure if signing the accords was the right choice, but the one thing she does know is that staying together is supposed to be the most important thing.

Just because they’re fighting now doesn’t mean Natasha cares any less about them. The thought lingers as the chaos of battle surrounds her.

Clint flips her to the ground, and she reacts instinctively, bringing up her batons to block his bow from pinning her down. The two lock eyes, a familiar intensity passing between them.

“We’re still friends, right?” Natasha asks, her voice steady despite the conflict around them.

Clint smirks, the kind of smile that reassures her, even in the midst of battle.

“Depends on how hard you hit me.”

Natasha grins back, then uses her legs to flip him off of her. She springs to her feet, ready to deliver a follow-up kick, when a sudden wave of red energy wraps around her leg, freezing her in place.

Startled, she glances to the side, catching only a brief glimpse of Wanda before she’s hurled through the air.

Natasha braces herself for the inevitable impact, but instead of hitting the metal wall of an airport car, she collides with a body in mid-air.

A pair of arms wrap around her, cushioning the fall as they both tumble to the ground. They roll to a stop, with Natasha ending up on top.

Dazed but unharmed, she pushes herself up, her breath coming in short gasps as she looks down to see who caught her.

“Hey,” Natasha greets softly, a small smile forming on her lips as she cups your face with her hands. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t return her smile, instead frowning at her with concern.

“The Avengers are fighting each other, and you didn’t think to call me?”

Natasha’s smile falters, and she shifts her gaze away, her voice soft with guilt.

“I didn’t want you to have to choose a side.”

You release a knowing sigh.

“You mean, you were afraid I wouldn’t agree with your choice,” you correct gently.

Natasha twists her lips at the truth in your words.

Yes, she’s afraid. Her makeshift family is breaking apart before her eyes, and she’s desperate to protect the one other part of her life that matters.

Why wouldn’t she try to shield you from this chaos?

Your hand covers hers, still resting on your cheek, drawing her attention back to you.

“I’ve told you, Nat. Do whatever it is you feel is right for you. I’ll support you no matter what.”

Natasha’s eyes soften, a wave of relief washing over her. She starts to lean in, but you stop her with a gentle press of your finger against her lips.

“However,” you add, your voice firm and disapproving, “not calling me and having me find out from Stark? That’s a different kind of trouble you’re in.”

Natasha chuckles, taking your hand from her face and pressing a gentle kiss against your palm, a hint of playfulness entering her voice.

“Well, you still love me though, right?”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to maintain your stern expression, though it softens slightly.

“I don’t know. Ask me again after this,” you tease back at her.

Before Natasha can respond, Tony’s voice crackles through the comms, interrupting the moment.

“Uh, less flirting, you two. In case you forgot, there are multiple fights happening around you.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, but the smile remains on her face as she helps you up, ready to rejoin the fray.

Leipzig Hospital Balcony

“You let them go, Nat,” Tony accuses, his voice sharp with disbelief.

Natasha doesn’t deny it. In the end, she chose to help Steve and Bucky because it was the right thing to do. If the fighting didn’t stop, it would only cause more pain for everyone involved.

“We played this wrong,” Natasha admits, her voice tinged with regret.

“We?” Tony scoffs, shaking his head in frustration. “You know, it must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh? It sticks in the DNA.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Natasha flinches inwardly, the hurt flickering across her face before she quickly masks it.

His comment cuts deeper than she expected, reminding her of the ghosts of her past, the shadows she’s fought so hard to leave behind after all these years.

But here, at this moment, those shadows seem to close in on her, dark and suffocating, reminding her of the person she used to be.

Her voice hardens, a cold edge creeping into her tone. “Are you incapable of letting go of your ego for one goddamn second?”

Tony’s expression remains stony, but there’s a brief flicker of something in his eyes—regret, maybe, or disappointment. He doesn’t back down, though.

“T’Challa told Ross what you did, so…they’re coming for you.”

Natasha meets his gaze, her eyes steely, refusing to show any sign of fear.

“I’m not the one that needs to watch their back,” she replies before turning to leave.

As she walks away, the weight of the confrontation settles in her chest, heavy and suffocating.

She finds an empty hallway and leans against the wall, pressing her hands to her eyes, trying to push back the frustration and the sting of Tony’s words. Her breath comes in uneven gasps as she struggles to regain her composure.

A gentle hand touches her wrist, a gesture of comfort, but in her raw state, she instinctively swats it away.

When she looks up, your expression is sad as your hands retreat to your sides. You clear your throat awkwardly, searching for the right words.

“I can talk with Ross. Maybe change his mind or something.”

Natasha breaks away from your soft gaze, looking down and biting her lip to stop herself from saying the cutting remark on the tip of her tongue—that it would not make a difference, not with her past.

She’s all too aware of the person she was, and no words could erase that history.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” you try to reassure her.

Despite the same certainty and determination in your tone, Natasha can’t seem to find it in her to believe that to be true this time.

Glancing up, Natasha’s eyes fall on the bruises and scratches on your face, injuries you sustained because of her—because you chose to stand by her side.

The sight only deepens the ache in her chest.

“Don’t,�� Natasha mutters, her voice trembling. “Just leave.”

“Nat…” you begin, your voice soft, filled with concern.

But she closes her eyes tightly, shaking her head as if to block out the sound. “I said go! Leave me alone!”

The harshness in her tone is laced with pain, and it cuts through the air like a knife.

For a moment, there’s silence, thick and heavy, before you turn and walk away, leaving Natasha alone with her thoughts.

The hallway echoes with the sound of your retreating footsteps.

Natasha sinks down to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees, feeling the weight of her actions pressing down on her like never before.

She thought she could finally have a different life, that she could change, but nothing has changed. She still hurts the people around her.

So, Natasha does what she does best. She disappears.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Seventh Circle Prison, Russia – 2016

The whirl of the helicopter blades fills the air as Natasha flies away from the prison, the tension inside the cabin palpable among its three occupants.

“It means so much to me that you girls came back for me,” Alexei begins, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

Natasha, however, isn’t in the mood for such sentimentality. Her voice is sharp as she cuts him off, “No. No, you’re gonna tell us how to get to the Red Room.”

Alexei huffs, slightly taken aback by her tone.

“Whoa, look at you, huh? All business.”

“Trust me, this isn’t pleasure,” Natasha retorts, her eyes narrowing in irritation. She was not prepared to deal with her old family after just losing her new one. But the quicker she destroys the Red Room and saves the remaining Widows, the faster she can leave this part of her past behind.

Behind her, Alexei chuckles, though there’s a trace of bitterness in his laughter.

“Little Natasha, all indoctrinated into the Western agenda.”

Natasha’s gaze hardens as she turns to glare at him.

“I chose to go west to become an Avenger. At least they treated me like family.”

“Really? Family?” Alexei’s tone drips with sarcasm. “Well, where are they now?”

From the corner of her eye, Natasha catches Yelena looking at her. A mix of emotions crosses Yelena’s face—curiosity, concern, and a brief flash of sadness—before she turns away, staring forward.

“Where is that family now?” Alexei repeats, his voice louder, more insistent.

Unable to face the question any longer, Natasha turns away, focusing on the landscape outside instead.

The ache of loss resurfaces within her, a painful reminder of the bonds she once believed were unbreakable, now torn apart so easily.

As the helicopter continues to slice through the air, the silence between them grows heavier, especially after Natasha discovers that Melina is still working for Dreykov, remotely operating somewhere outside of Saint Petersburg.

With Yelena now at the controls of the helicopter, Natasha takes a moment for herself. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small flip phone—the only possession she hadn’t discarded when she went on the run.

Opening it, she stares at the screen, at the message she’s been fixated on for weeks.

“I love you”

It was the last thing you sent her after she had disappeared.

Natasha swallows nervously before attempting once more to type a response. Her fingers move over the keys, spelling out the same words that appeared on the screen countless times before.

I’m sorry|

But once again, nothing else follows. Frustration wells up inside her as her fingers hesitate, struggling to find the right words.

Instead of clarity, a heavy weight presses down on her—guilt from your last moment together, regret over her actions, and fear of what the future holds for the two of you.

Before she can dwell on it further, the helicopter suddenly lurches, jostling everyone inside.

“Yelena?!” Natasha calls out, her voice filled with alarm.

The blonde-haired Widow nods calmly, her tone casual despite the situation.

“Uh, yeah, the plane’s going down.” She flips a few switches, nodding in confirmation. “Told you we didn’t have enough fuel to get there.”

Groaning in frustration, Natasha quickly tucks the phone away, securing herself as she declares, “Everyone, brace yourselves.”

After a rough landing and leaving the wrecked helicopter behind, they finally arrive at Melina’s home.

The four of them sit awkwardly around the table, a scene eerily reminiscent of how it was many years ago.

Breaking the silence, Alexei exclaims joyfully, “Family! Back together again!”

Natasha rolls her eyes, dismissing his enthusiasm as she tries to stay focused on the mission.

“So, here’s what’s going to happen—”

“Natasha, don’t slouch,” Melina interrupts, her voice carrying a motherly tone.

Blinking in surprise, Natasha straightens slightly, though she couldn’t help but argue, “I’m not slouching.”

“Yes, yes you are,” Melina insists, her tone firm.

“I don’t slouch,” Natasha retorts, irritation creeping into her voice.

“You’re going to get a back hunch,” Melina continues, unfazed by Natasha’s resistance.

Alexei nods in agreement, tapping her arm. “Listen to your mother.”

“All right, enough! All of you,” Natasha snaps, trying to regain control of the situation and her emotions. Her voice is tinged with disbelief at their sudden concern—as if they hadn’t abandoned her and Yelena to the Red Room once their mission was over.

“I didn’t say anything. That’s not fair,” Yelena quips, her tone laced with dry humor.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha tries again, “Here’s what’s going to happen—”

“I don’t want any food,” Yelena complains as Melina places a spoonful onto her plate.

“Eat a little something, Yelena, for God’s sake,” Melina urges, her voice slipping back into the role of a concerned mother.

The constant interruptions and forced familial interactions finally push Natasha over the edge, and her frustration boils over.

“Enough! Stop, just stop pretending to care. Our family was never real,” Natasha snaps, her voice rising. “Nothing about us is real!”

Yelena’s breath catches in her throat at Natasha’s declaration.

“Don’t say that.” Yelena’s frown deepens as she continues, “Please don’t say that. It was real. It was real to me.”

Natasha falters at Yelena’s response, regret immediately washing over her. She hadn’t meant to hurt her sister, but with everything that’s happened in the past weeks, she could no longer control her anger and frustration.

Swallowing hard, Natasha stays silent, her hands clenching in her lap to keep from reaching out to comfort Yelena.

Yelena shakes her head in disbelief, hastily wiping away a stray tear. “The best part of my life was fake,” she exhales deeply, her voice trembling with emotion, “and none of you told me.”

She turns to Natasha, her voice filled with hurt and heavy with accusation. “And you…you got out. Dreykov made sure no one could escape after that. Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Natasha holds Yelena’s gaze for a long, tense moment, the silence between them charged with unspoken pain. Finally, Natasha flinches away, guilt preventing her from finding the right words.

Melina reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Yelena’s shoulder. But Yelena quickly brushes it off, standing abruptly and turning to leave.

“Yelena…” Natasha calls after her, her voice heavy with regret.

Yelena ignores her, slamming the door behind her as she storms out.

“Uh…I’ll go talk to her,” Alexei offers, standing up to follow.

Natasha’s gaze falls, her eyes glaring at the table as the weight of guilt presses down on her chest, almost suffocating her. She suddenly stands, pushing her chair back with a harsh scrape, and quickly leaves the table, heading for the bathroom.

Once inside, she splashes cold water on her face, hoping to wash away the turmoil churning inside her.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, frustration is etched into every line of her face.

Why does it seem like the only thing she’s capable of is hurting those around her?

Natasha can’t even remember what made her believe that someone like her could have a different life—that she could change and be more than what she was trained to be.

Sighing deeply, Natasha leaves the bathroom and returns to the table, only to find that Melina has gone as well.

Unsurprised, Natasha finds herself alone once again. She closes her eyes, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. As she does, she recalls how she used to cope with the pain of loneliness, slowly beginning to rebuild the walls around her heart.

But then, a small commotion outside catches her attention.

Moving cautiously, Natasha heads toward the front of the house to investigate. As she reaches the door, she freezes, hearing a familiar voice that stops her in her tracks.

“I’m not here to cause any trouble. I’m just looking for someone.”

Natasha’s brow furrows in recognition, but she quickly shakes her head, dismissing the thought. It can’t be possible.

“The next town is five miles that way,” Melina’s voice responds, cold and unwelcoming.

Curiosity gets the better of her, and Natasha peeks out the door, stepping outside cautiously. Her eyes widen in surprise when they meet yours.

“Nat…” you say softly, taking a hesitant step closer. But before you can move further, Melina raises the gun in her hand, her eyes filled with a clear warning.

“Wait,” Natasha calls out, rushing forward. She places her hand on Melina’s, gently but firmly lowering the weapon. “She’s not a threat.”

“Well, that’s a little offensive,” you remark with a slight glare, crossing your arms.

Natasha gives you a look, silently conveying that she didn’t mean it that way, then turns back to Melina.

“Could you give us a moment?” Natasha asks.

Melina hesitates briefly, her protective gaze lingering on Natasha, but eventually nods. With a wary glance in your direction, she retreats back into the house.

Once alone, Natasha turns to you, her expression conflicted with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“How did you find me?”

“I got worried after the message you sent me,” you explain, pulling out your phone and showing her the screen.

On it is a jumbled message: “I’m sorrywjhsgf”

Natasha grimaces, realizing her fingers must have accidentally pressed some buttons during the helicopter’s turbulent descent. She mentally kicks herself for the unintended message.

“I didn’t mean to send that.”

At her words, your face falls as understanding dawns on you, the light in your eyes dimming.

“Oh,” you mutter quietly, glancing down as you fidget with your phone before tucking it away. You shuffle in place unsurely before turning away with a shake of your head.

“I should just go,” you say, disappointment clear in your voice.

Realizing the misunderstanding she’s caused, Natasha quickly reaches out, catching your arm and turning you back to face her, her words spilling out in a rush.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant,” Natasha blurts out, her voice urgent as she steps closer. “I wanted to say more than just sorry,” she clarifies, hoping you’ll understand.

You pause, your gaze lingering where her hand rests on your arm. Slowly, you pull away, and her hand drops back to her side.

At your distancing action, Natasha’s heart pounds painfully in her chest as she realizes how much she’s risked by not reaching out sooner and letting her fears and insecurities get in the way of what truly matters.

She braces herself for the inevitable.

But instead of leaving, you surprise her by simply crossing your arms and waiting, a silent gesture that tells her you’re willing to listen.

Natasha exhales, only now realizing she’d been holding her breath. The familiar way you look at her, unchanged from before, causes the walls she’d been building to crumble.

Taking a deep breath, she begins to speak.

“You have every right to be angry with me,” she says, her voice tinged with guilt. Natasha hesitates, searching for the right words to express the turmoil inside her, still struggling to find herself amidst all the chaos.

“There’s so much more I need to say,” she continues, her voice softening, almost pleading. “But the problem is that I haven’t figured it all out yet. What I do know, though—” she pauses, her eyes locking onto yours, searching for any hint of hope, “—is that I don’t want you to leave.”

When she finishes, your expression remains unreadable.

Natasha bites her lip, anxiety twisting in her stomach as she watches you contemplate her words. Being this vulnerable is unfamiliar territory for her, and it terrifies her more than she’s willing to admit.

“Please don’t go,” she whispers, a final, desperate plea, hoping it’s enough to convey the depth of her true feelings.

You look up at the sky, exhaling softly as if weighing your options.

When your gaze finally meets hers again, a small, playful smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You gesture toward the house, the tension easing as a lighter tone returns to your voice.

“New friends?” you ask, the warmth in your tone bringing a small smile to Natasha’s face.

Natasha chuckles lightly, the pressure in her chest easing at your familiar banter.

“More like an old, broken family.”

You hum thoughtfully, your teasing grin softening into a more sympathetic expression.

“So, not much different,” you remark, referencing the fractured state of the Avengers.

Natasha sighs sadly, her smile fading at the reminder of her situation.

“What should I do?” she asks, her voice tinged with the uncertainty she’s been trying so hard to conceal.

It feels as though no matter what she does, nothing ever changes. She pretends to have all the answers, but deep down, she knows the truth is far from that.

“Whatever you feel is right,” you respond without hesitation, your confidence in her unwavering.

Natasha scoffs softly, a flicker of disbelief crossing her features as she hesitates. Her eyes meet yours, searching for reassurance.

“And what makes you so sure I’ll make the right choice?” she asks, her voice revealing the doubt that lingers deep within her.

You take a moment to consider your response before stepping closer, gently cupping her face in your hands.

“Because after everything you’ve been through, you’ve still kept your heart,” you say with quiet conviction, your thumb gently brushing her cheek as you lean your forehead against hers.

“That’s how I know you’ll figure this out, too,” you add, your voice filled with certainty.

Your words settle over Natasha, bringing a sense of calm to her chaotic thoughts. For the first time in a long while, she feels a glimmer of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, she can find her way through this mess and everything else, too.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Avenger Compound, Upstate New York – 2018

Natasha sits on the edge of the bed in her old room at the Avengers Compound, watching you as you methodically strap on your gear and check your weapons.

The room is dimly lit, shadows playing along the walls, and the tension from the past few hours hangs heavily in the air.

Her leg bounces with nervous energy, worry gnawing at her. She presses her palms together, fidgeting with her fingers, before dropping her gaze to the floor and releasing a soft, scared sigh.

But the fear isn’t for herself.

“You can still go, you know,” Natasha mutters softly, her voice barely breaking the silence.

You hum in acknowledgment, not pausing in your preparation, the sound of buckles and straps filling the room.

“Do you want me to?” you ask over your shoulder, your tone casual, almost too casual for the weight of the question.

Natasha huffs, recognizing your familiar deflection, and shakes her head.

With Bruce’s dire warning about the impending battle with Thanos and his army still echoing in her mind, she can’t help the fear that tightens her chest as she looks at the person who has chosen to stand by her side, time and time again.

“I want you safe,” Natasha admits, her voice trembling with the honesty of her words.

“Good, I feel the same about you,” you reply, turning to face her, your expression softening as you take in the sight of her.

“I’m serious. This isn’t like anything we’ve faced before,” Natasha warns, her eyes pleading with yours to understand.

“Which means you’ll need all the help you can get,” you say, stepping closer until you’re standing right in front of her.

Natasha twists her lips, frustrated by the truth in your words. She looks away, trying to hide the turmoil in her eyes.

But you won’t let her retreat.

You gently catch her chin with your finger, guiding her face back to yours as you lean down to press a soft, lingering kiss against her lips.

Natasha’s eyes flutter shut as she returns the kiss, her hand instinctively finding the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if she can anchor herself in the warmth of your touch.

When you finally pull away, Natasha bites her lip lightly, trying to hold onto the warmth for just a moment longer.

You rest your forehead against hers, and she finally opens her eyes, meeting yours with a rare vulnerability she shows only to you.

“Are you scared?” you ask softly, your voice laced with the same fear gnawing at her.

Natasha’s eyes roam across your face, memorizing every detail as if it might be the last time she sees you.

“Terrified,” she admits, her voice raw with emotion.

“Me too,” you say, a small, reassuring smile tugging at your lips as your thumb gently caresses her cheek.

“Are you going to leave?” you ask, even though Natasha’s sure you already know the answer.

The Avengers are her family. Imperfect and flawed, but they always strive to make the world a safer place—to do what’s right. She would never abandon them when they need her most.

“No,” she responds, her voice filled with determined resolve.

You smile knowingly at her response, your gaze drifting around the room as a look of nostalgia washes over you.

The soft, wistful look in your eyes tells Natasha that you’re recalling the memories of all the times the two of you spent together in this space.

When you meet Natasha’s gaze again, a playful smile tugs at your lips.

“Do you still love me?” you ask teasingly.

Natasha huffs in mock offense, the corner of her lips twitching into a half-smile. You can’t help but chuckle at her reaction, raising a brow in amusement.

“Well?” you whisper, your voice low as you lean in closer, your breath warm against her skin, your hands resting gently on her shoulders.

Instead of answering, Natasha wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you in until you’re straddling her, your knees pressing into the bed on either side of her.

The bed dips slightly under your combined weight, and Natasha holds you close, her hands firm yet gentle on your waist.

“I love you,” Natasha breathes out, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t want to lose you.”

You cup her face in your hands, your eyes filled with love and adoration as you give her a reassuring smile.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reaffirm, your voice steady and full of the certainty she needs to hear.

You lower yourself onto her, gently guiding her down to lie back against the bed, your lips meeting hers in a tender kiss.

You had said it with such conviction that Natasha can’t help but believe you, just as she always has.

But how could she have known that after this battle, for the first time ever, it wouldn’t be true?

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Vomir – 2023

They say that when someone is about to die, their life flashes before their eyes—a rapid montage of memories, achievements, failures, regrets, and the relationships that mattered most.

For Natasha, the idea of her life flashing before her eyes seems almost laughable. Her early years are a blur of pain, manipulation, and control—years she would rather forget than relive.

The truth is, her real life didn’t begin until much later.

If Natasha had to pinpoint the exact moment, it would be when she found herself face-to-face with the sharp point of an arrow—the moment she met the first person to see something in her worth saving when she had seen nothing in herself.

That was the moment she was given the chance to truly live.

Her mind floods with memories of the life she built after that fateful encounter—a life she had never imagined for herself, filled with friends, laughter, and moments of unexpected warmth.

She remembers the first time she allowed herself to trust again, to let people in despite the walls she had built around her heart.

With all their quirks and flaws, the Avengers became the family she never knew she needed. They challenged her, frustrated her, and made her feel alive in ways she had never thought possible.

But it wasn’t always easy. Natasha recalls the arguments, the disagreements, and the moments when it seemed like they were tearing apart at the seams.

However, no matter how far they drifted, they always found their way back to each other.

She learned to fight for them, to fight for herself, and to fight for something greater than her past.

And then there were those who reached out from her previous life, some seeking assistance, some seeking redemption. Even then, Natasha chose to rebuild those broken bonds of the past.

Yet, among all these memories, one person stands out more than any other.

That person was there at every pivotal moment in her life—whether she was on the verge of giving up or standing tall in the face of adversity. Through the highs and lows, they were her constant, the one who saw her for who she truly was and loved her all the more for it.

In her final moments, Natasha’s mind doesn’t dwell on her victories or her failures.

Instead, she sees your face, the one constant in her life that brought her peace and happiness.

Natasha remembers the way you looked at her, with eyes that held no judgment, only love. She recalls the way your touch calmed her, the way your presence made her feel safe in a world that had always been hostile.

As she falls, Natasha realizes that this connection is what matters most. It’s not the battles or the missions that define her, but the love she found in the most unexpected place.

And as the darkness closes in, the last thing she sees is you, a symbol of everything she has fought for and everything she has come to cherish.

Her final breath is taken not in fear but in peace, knowing that she lived a life worth remembering—a life filled with love, friendship, and purpose.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Cemetery, Ohio — 2023

“If you passed away, who would sit at your grave the longest?”

Natasha had asked you that question once.

At the time, you couldn’t come up with a definite answer, so you had turned the question back to her.

You remember the way her lips curved into a small, wistful smile as she considered it, her eyes reflecting a depth of sadness you had only glimpsed before.

“I don’t know,” she had replied, her voice soft but honest, as if she had long accepted that was her inevitable fate.

Natasha could not come up with an answer then, but you did.

“Who would sit at her grave the longest?”

You didn’t need any time to think about the answer. Many people could rightfully fill that role.

To Melina and Alexei, she was their beloved daughter, the one who had been torn from them too soon, only to return with a strength and resolve that made them proud.

To Yelena, she was her cherished sister—a mentor, a protector, the person who had sacrificed so much to ensure Yelena had a chance at a real life, free from the chains of the Red Room.

To the Avengers, she was a valued teammate and friend, the glue that held them together through the darkest times. She was their moral compass, the one who always found a way to do what was right, even when the cost was high.

To the world, she was a hero, a symbol of resilience and redemption. The Black Widow, who had fought for a better future, leaving a legacy that would inspire generations to come.

To you…she was everything.

Your fingers trace the delicate grooves of her engraved name, feeling the weight of every memory, every moment you had shared.

You stood by her side through nearly all of it—the battles, the victories, the losses. You had seen her at her best and at her worst, through moments of triumph and times of doubt.

You loved her fiercely, from strangers to friends to something so much more.

She was the woman who had shown you the strength of vulnerability, the power of redemption, and the courage to love despite the risks.

In the end, you were right about all those who would come to see her, to pay their respects to the woman who had become an important part of their lives.

But they would all eventually leave, returning to their own lives, their own battles. They would remember her, yes, but they would move on.

But not you.

“So, who would sit at Natasha’s grave the longest?”

That answer was clear.

“You would. Now and forever.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: this one was really long so if you made it to the end in one go, kudos for you and thank you for taking the time to read it!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff

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muzansfangs · 9 months

Text

You tell them you got a brazilian wax by a guy.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; Urahara Kisuke x f!reader; Shunsui Kyoraku x f!reader; Byakuya Kuchiki x f!reader;

Format: short imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, human/modern au, mention to female nudity, jealousy, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, language, creampie, oral sex (Aizen!receiving), vaginal sex, spanking, choking, spying on a partner, mention to murderous intents, wax play.

Plot: A trend on Tik Tok made you plot a devious plan to make your beloved boyfriend going mad. He knew you had an appointment for a brazilian wax. He obviously assumed you were going to be assisted by a woman. How will he react, when you tell him it was a man? Will his jealousy go too far? Will your prank get you in a bad situation?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Sosuke Aizen.

You knew better than messing with him. Your boyfriend and his god complex, along with his mania for having everything under his control could truly be lethal. Quite literally. Yet, you were bored that Friday night. Sosuke was not around and you ended up slumping onto your couch, phone in hand, scrolling through Tik Tok in search for a way to entertain yourself.

You did not really do much, beside chuckling every now and then. Well, that was until you came across a specific trend regarding a thing you were not unfamiliar with. As you watched the way a poor boyfriend freaked out at the thought of his girlfriend getting a brazilian wax from a guy, you could not restrain yourself from testing the waters. Aizen Sosuke, the cold-blooded mastermind you shared a roof with, was going to experience a man’s personal living hell.

It was a monday evening, when he came back from work just to find you laying on your stomach on your shared bed, in a set of black lingerie he had bought for you a few months ago, chuckling to yourself. He furrowed his brows, settling his briefcase onto the armchair beside the window, as he slowly removed his jacket.

His predatory eyes roamed over your curves. He knew you had gone to your monthly wax appointment. He could see your smooth legs and the way your lingerie already showed shaved portions of your nether regions supposed to be covered. If you had opted for such a provocative attire, it could only mean that you wanted to show off your body to him.

“Hello, darling” he greeted you, his trademark grin crossing his lips as he tugged at his black tie to loosen it.

It was hard to keep your play on, as you watched him slowly get ready to devour you. He always took his time, confident that his cold and charming demeanor worked magic on you even before his hands started to trace the curves of your body. It was true, unfortunately. But you had to resist. It was your time to torture him, after all.

“Hey” you whispered, lifting yourself up on your knees as he approached the bed.

He swept his tongue over his bottom lip, his hand cupping your cheek as he stood at the edge of the bed, leaning down to let his mouth collide with yours in a demanding kiss. You could not deny yourself such a treat and you returned it with equal passion, earning a guttural grunt from him.

He did not say much, he sat down next to you and it was a silent signal for you to climb over his lap and straddle him as you always did. He had somehow trained you to have some reactions and do specific things in response to his gestures. Sosuke Aizen surely had his own way to make you bend the knee effortlessly at his silent requests.

As you straddled him, his hand reached up to grasp his glasses and he hastily took them off, discarding them somewhere beside him on the bed without bothering to fold them. It was so atypical of him. He seemed eager to have you that night and you could not help yourself but tease him about it. After all, pouring gasoline on a wild fire was the right thing to do to get him even more eager.

“Damn, are you that eager to see me naked?” you taunted him, as he darted his brown chocolate hues on your again. There it was, his lustful glare that made your knees buckle.

“Actually, I’m eager to fuck you” he deadpanned, his hand landing on your neck and squeezing it enough to keep you in place, as his other hand tugged your thong to the side and he glided the pads of his fingers down your slit.

You gasped, arching your back as he smirked down at you “You’re already dripping… If it’s so easy to get you wet, I wonder how you don’t make a mess on your beautician’s couch while texting me” he joked, drawing figures eight on your bundle of nerves.

There you were, ready to drop the bomb.

As he delved his fingers into your aching core, a strained moan falling from your lips, you glanced at him with an innocent smile on your face, as you made the ground shake under his feet “Oh, I guess I have been lucky today. Can you imagine Robert’s face, if I stained the couch?”.

Congrats, Aizen.exe stopped working.

He froze solid, his fingers were still buried deep into you, but he was not thrusting them in his usual smooth movements that made you squirm. His eyes were locked with yours, a small frown on his face. You genuinely thought you had just given him an heart attack.

“Robert” he repeated flatly, clearly unamused.

It was in moments like this, when he was serious, seraphic, that you feared him the most. Aizen could be dangerous, truly dangerous. The hint of wrath sparkling into his eyes gave you chills and you uncomfortably darted your eyes away from him. The carpet underneath his shoes suddenly seemed particularly interesting.

“Yeah, Robert. The new guy who works for my beautician. You know, he helps her” you stated, you mouth feeling like chalk all of a sudden.

The dry laughter leaving Sosuke’s lips made you shiver and it took you a few seconds to realize you had royally screwed up, because he was so nimble to wrap his hand around your throat again, and pin you to the bed underneath him, that you had not realized your position had switched so suddenly.

“I don’t doubt it. He must have enjoyed the view of your legs spread wide in front of his stupid face. — he chimed, a devious smile curling his lips as he paused to clench his teeth — A stupid face I’ll gladly fuck up tonight. Would you love to see it, love? I could take his heart to you, offering his pulsing, wretched organ to you. I’ll gauge his eyes out of his skull. I’ll squeeze the life out of him—” he hissed, each time the threat becoming similar to the ones the slashers whispered through the phones to their victims in the stupid movies he loved to watch with you, only to feel you curl up next to him on your sofa.

They were hilarious, according to him.

“Aizen, I was fucking joking! Stop! It was a trend I ran into on Tik Tok!” you quipped, eyes rounded as you cut him off.

Your boyfriend arched his dark eyebrows up, tilting his head to the side and slowly releasing his grip on your neck. He looked almost disappointed. Not towards you. Maybe, he truly wished to kill someone. Because he would kill whoever dared to even glance at you.

His jealousy was skyrocketing.

“I see. — he stated then, before hopping back on his feet and slowly unbuckling his black leather belt — Since you love to use this pretty mouth of yours for talking bullshit, open it to make amend. I’ll obviously come into your mouth, darling. I expect you to swallow” he hissed, gripping your hair and dropping his pants down to his ankles.

Maybe, just maybe, he took a day off from work every month to accompany you to the beauty point. Perhaps, he stalked you down, when you went on your own, because the idea of a random Robert staring and touching your pubes truly made him want to commit a mass murder.

Shunsui Kyoraku.

Shunsui was the perfect victim for this trend. As soon as you ran into that video, you could picture the look of horror on his face as you told him another man had touched you in such an intimate spot. You were simply his. No man could enjoy the sight of you with your legs opened wide to show off your intimacy, no man but him. Eveything was settled and your plan took place two days after you had visited your beautician.

Shunsui had just returned home after a business trip and you had decided to welcome him not only by cooking his favorite dish and buying some extra saké, but by being his personal dessert.

As he ran his hands down your smooth thighs and practically folded you in half, your legs pressed against your chest, you knew that teasing him in the aftermath of such a passionate encounter was going to do numbers on him. His little usual nap was going to wait, after all, because his mind was just about to get pested with horrendous scenarios of a non-existing man exploring his little nest.

“There it is… Look at you, baby, you got such a perfect little hole to fill with my cum” Shunsui panted, his fingers gently spreading your labia as he watched in pride and awe his seed oozing out from you.

You were absolutely drained, your thighs still trembling and your breath irregular as you tried to get a grip of yourself and calm down. Yet, how could you, when the man who had just fucked you to oblivion was Shunsui Kyoraku? He had such a fine way to unravel you that you almost felt guilty for what you were about to say.

Lazily pushing yourself up on your elbows, you hummed and watched Shunsui slump down next to you “Oh, I know. You are definitely not the first man who has ever told me that” you casually commented, sitting up properly and running your fingers through your hair in a futile attempt to fix them.

Shunsui knew about your ex. Even though he was jealous about anyone that was not him, he still did not think of your ex as a ghost from the past threatening your relationship and he actually had no issues in listening to you talking about him. After all, you were his. That man had lost you forever.

“Well, your ex then had his way with words too” your boyfriend stated, a playful smile crossing his lips.

“My ex? Nah, I’m talking about Murata” you replied, laying back down and rolling on your side to face him.

Shunsui Kyoraku, your loving man, was now definitely interested in what you were saying.

Arching his eyebrows up and resting his head on the palm of his hand, he curiously inquired “Who’s Murata? Your gynecologist?”.

You chuckled and shook your head “My what? No, babe, I’m talking about my new beautician’s co-worker. Murata is such an amazing guy, you know? His fingers are so delicate and he applies the wax in a tender way” you lied, sounding as serious as you possibly could.

You swore you had seen his eye twitch, as he grasped your hip drew you closer to him. Your eyes widened as Shunsui’s hand slided down the small of your back and cupped your rear, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Where did this Murata boy put his fingers?” he huskily asked you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as you swallowed thickly. Oh, you knew exactly what was going to happen.

Were you regretting that little stunt you had pulled? Oh, you were for sure.

At your lack of answers, Shunsui sighed and rolled you onto your stomach. His hands gripped your hips and he raised your waist up, until it was at the perfect level with his pelvis. But no, he was not going to claim his domain on your inner walls again. A little punishment was in store fore you.

“Poor little baby, she tries to prank me but cannot even play the part until the very end. Good, that’s good, though” he chuckled, before you parted your lips to let a soft whimper leave them and turn your stomach upside down.

“Shunsui! Babe, I’m sorry! It was a prank! I promise” you piped out, blushing as you hid your face down onto the pillow.

“I’m not having it”.

Spanks it was. But he surely made it up to you later on.

Urahara Kisuke.

Your pervert boyfriend and this trend were a perfect combination for a disaster. It was like throwing powder into a fire. But it sounded like a good idea for you, therefore you persuaded yourself nothing would have gone wrong. Kisuke was not a jealous man. Of course he was protective and a bit territorial, but he never actually made a scene or freaked out, when a man tried to hit on you. He believed you could handle the situation perfectly on your own and, on top of that, if he had to step up and chase the stranger away, he surely avoided violent conflicts.

You two were laying onto your shared bed, Kisuke on top of you, as his mouth was latched onto your throat and his hand was currently between your thighs.

Whimpers and heavy breaths filled the air, while his fingers deftly plunged into you, making your lips part to chant a lewd melody he loved. He knew so many ways of making your knees buck and drag orgasms out of you that it was not a surprise that simply fingering you could make you scream out his name.

“Do you even realize how wet you are? You’ve soaked my whole hand and wrist, you dirty kitten” he cooed in your ear, slowing down the pace he had set a tad bit to enjoy the way your walls clenched onto his slender fingers so tightly.

As he did that, decided to slip his fingers out of you, only to glide them down your folds and enjoying how soft, smooth and slippery they were after the wax appointment you had gone to yesterday.

“So soft, you are so soft, you know?” he teased you, grinning as he took his hat off with his free hand.

Now or never. It was time to drop your bomb.

“Yeah, I know. — you breathed out, glancing up at him and resting the back of your hand over your forehead before letting out a dramatic sigh —I expected you to use some original terms to describe my pussy, though. I mean, Jason used those exact words yesterday. Tsk, I expected you to do better than him” you gingerly said, averting your eyes from him.

Urahara Kisuke went silent. The pads of his fingers glued to your folds, he tried to process what you had just said. A man? Did you mention a man? Additionally, not even a native one, judging by his name, therefore he surely did not know him.

“I’m sorry, who in the holy Soul Society is Jason?” he quizzically asked, tilting his head to the side as he stared at you in utter shock.

“Who?”.

“Jason. Who is this J-A-S-O-N man?” he replied, his eyes dangerously darting onto the lit candle on the night stand.

If his kitten was up for playing with fire, he was going to let you play with it.

“Oh, Jason, right… Well, he waxed me yesterday. He praised my flesh in such a basic way it was hard not to laugh at his face” you replied, pushing yourself up onto your elbows as Kisuke simply hummed and reached for the candle.

At first you got confused, eyebrows knitted together while your eyes followed his moves and the way he began to look at your thighs while licking his lips. It was only then that you remembered how he had wished to try some wax play with you. Eyes widening in shock, you gawked and sat up.

“Kisuke! Baby, wait, wait! I was kidding! It was a trend I ran into on Tik Tok! I promise, I’ll cut the crap!” you fretted, cupping his cheek in your hand and peppering his face in kisses. You were evidently begging for mercy.

The shop-keeper, however, shrugged and delicately pushed you back down as he smiled at you “Oh, I see! But you now owe me some sex therapy, kitten. Now, let me try some wax play and I’ll eat you up. I’ll make you scream so loud Aizen will hear from Muken!” he taunted you, winning you over with his last joke.

“You are a dork…” you chuckled, slapping his shoulder.

Byakuya Kuchiki.

If someone wanted to get a reaction out of this stolid man it was by messing with you. How did they even think about touching his delicate flower, the woman who had successfully made him smile again after so long? A mad Byakuya was not a problem people wished to deal with and, naturally, you did not want to make blood run down the streets. But it was so tempting, so fun. You could not restrain yourself, right? Your boyfriend needed to experience that little trauma too.

It was a lovely summer night, your boyfriend was still locked up in his office and you decided to pay him a visit. Along with buying some take-away in his favorite restaurant, you were going to deliver him a rather spicy dessert. No one was around anymore. The only sound eachoing down the corridor was the sound of your heels clicking onto the marble floor.

When Byakuya saw you walking past the threshold of his office, he faintly smiled. You were surley a sight to behold, especially in that flowery dress he adored. Running up to him, you threw your arms around your neck and pecked his lips gently.

“I was missing you” you said softly, as he made you sit comfortable onto his lap.

Byakuya hummed and kissed your nape, his arms hugging your waist as he redirected his gaze back on the laptop on his desk. He worked way too much, but how could he not? The Family Company constantly required his attention and assistance. But now you were there, ready to catch his attention with some salty prank.

“How was your day, love?” he asked you softly, typing something on the keyboard.

“Quite good. — you stated, smiling softly — And I got some news. My beautician had called in sick today, I was assisted by her colleague” you absent-mindedly said, not getting much of a reaction out of him. You had been vague, indeed. He had no reason to suspect anything, after all.

“Really? And was his colleague good?” he asked.

“Oh, yes! Really good. I got to say I was put in a rather unusual position, but overall he was professional” you chimed, closing your eyes as you mentally prepared for hellfire to break out.

And it did.

Byakuya cleared his throat, his grip on your waist tightening even so slightly as he nosed your cheek gently “He?”.

“Yep. I’m talking about Santiago” you casually said, smiling softly.

“Santiago. Mh, I see. — he replied, prompting you stand up, much to your dismay and confusion, but as he grasped the back of your neck and pushed you down onto the empty side of the deak, you squirmed — And was the position he asked you to strike that uncomfortable?” he said calmly, unbuckling his belt with one hand, meanwhile he allowed the other one to hike the skirt of your dress up.

“Y-Yes… You could say so” you meekly replied.

The smack on your rear you received afterwards making you squeak out softly, your foreteeth sinking onto your bottom lip.

Byakuya sighed, lowering his mouth to your ear “You know, baby, when you want to prank someone, you should be careful in not messing up the plan. How was I supposed to fall for that, when you have sent me the link of the video?” he purred, as you gaped in shock.

Your jaw went slack, as reality dawned onto you: so that was why Rangiku had not replied to your video and text ‘check this out, Byakuya is gonna be so mad’.

You had sent it to Byakuya.

“Baby, I’m so, so sorry! It was a cute idea!” you protested, but he had already slipped your panties down your thighs, a soft groan leaving his lips as his fingers glided down your smooth slit, earning a little squirm from you.

“I know. I have a cute idea too. Spread your legs and let me show what I am talking about” he practically commanded.

Gosh, did that make you wet.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! An old draft and promise to some of you that I have finally finished! Thank you so much for having been so patient, I genuinely appreciate your feedback and enthusiasm at times. This was pretty fun to write and definitely a breath of fresh air from all of my other requests. Let me know what you think about it! Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreacited!

Until then,

X O X O

TAGS: @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @cyberdazetragedy @hearrrtfillia @eeeextttt @luccis-coochie @niya12 @juleenbety @moris666 @virette @sillylittlefellas @elijangwifey @han11dh

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the-original-skipps · 1 year

Text

If you know what this picture is you’ll know what this is about

spy!scaramouche when he leaves for "work" he disappears for a couple of days only to reappear again without notice. You could just have gotten back from your job, only to see your boyfriend dressed casually lounging on the couch in your living room. "Oh, you're back." He says nonchalantly to you without looking up from his phone.

"I can say the same thing about you."

spy!scaramouche who moves around without any sound. He often surprises you by suddenly appearing behind you, as if he teleports. He does it on purpose so he can see your startled face. Your reaction is too cute. He can't help himself.

spy!scaramouche who may have installed cameras throughout your shared home. Due to his occupation he's gotta be careful of who might come after him or even you. He can also make sure you're safe when he's away. He installed them for purely security purposes; he's not a "pervert" or so he claims but sometimes he just likes to see what you're up to.

spy!scaramouche who is essentially like your bodyguard. A trip to the supermarket? Just wanna grab a drink at the cafe? He's going with you, it doesn't matter how small the errand is. He complains but he still goes along with you, even though you didn't even ask him too.

spy!scaramouche who may or not have installed location tracking on your phone. What? He's gotta keep you safe, what you don't know won't hurt you. One day, he just strolls in casually at the cafe you're sitting at and you wonder how he managed to find you.

“What? It’s just a coincidence.”

spy!scaramouche has a lot of weapons hidden in your home. Just don't go looking in the wrong place or else you might find a sniper rifle. He's gonna have a hard time coming up with an excuse for that.

spy!scaramouche secretly knows all about the people you’re associated with not just that he seems to know quite a few things about everyone. A man bumps into you causing you to wince. Scara’s face turns cold before immediately grabbing the arm of the man who bumped into you his grip tight enough to bruise.

“Pallad, watch where you’re going.”

“H-How do you kno-“

“Scram.”

The man could only yelp in fear before running away.

spy!scaramouche who teaches you self defense because "You're weak as hell and I won't always be there to protect you…" He tells you mumbling out the last part so you couldn't hear him. He gets to be up and personal with you, his hand lingering a little longer on your waist. His face too close to yours that you can feel his breathe fan your face. This is supposed to be a part of the self defense lesson too right? Though his eyes tell a different story.

> spy? more like yandere

> ask box is always open for simping

#genshin impact #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche #wanderer x y/n #skipps writes

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1-800-deactivatednearu · 2 years

Text

[i.d.: digital tf2 fanart. the blu spy sneaks past an enemy engineer, glancing back and appearing disgusted. he is disguised as an enemy pyro and holds a butterfly knife in one hand. the red engineer's back is to the camera. he wears the texas half-pants, brown chaps with tassels, modified to be assless chaps. he wears heart print underwear underneath. /end i.d.]

my friends didnt like this one ;; the cosmetic that i mistook for assless chaps

#tf2 #smoking tw #my art #tf2 spy #tf2 engineer #live spy reaction #<- why is this a collection #team fortress 2

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bella-goths-wife · 6 months

Note

How would the Vs react if their pet died in hell, forever?

The Vs reaction if pet died in hell

(This is not canon to the au!)

This is disturbing and gross so please be mindful of the media you’re choosing to consume!

Warnings: description of dead body, disturbing keeping’s of dead body, Vs sick version of mourning, grief, mentions of previous abuse, drug use mentioned

You probably would have died during an extermination

Maybe the Vs got too busy to remember to reinforce the safety precautions for the tower

Or you were accidentally downstairs when they sealed their upper level off

In any case, you are killed by an angel in cold blood

But the Vs didn’t know that yet, they were too busy at their viewing party that spies on the hazbin hotel to watch in case alastor dies

They assumed you were just in your room and decided to leave you be since they were so interested in their little spy drones

So when Vox goes to your room to check up on you and doesn’t see you in your bed, he panics

He searches all his cameras while he sends the other two to search for you

Eventually they find your body thrown across the rubble and cut open

It all happens in a very saltburn fashion

Vox doesn’t know how to react as he just drops to his knees and holds your head up while muttering about how you must be feeling cold without a jacket

Velvette just stares before mentioning how it’s almost time for breakfast and that they should all head inside, choosing to live in denial and push her feelings down for the meantime

Valentino stifles a few cries as he just stares at your dead body

They wait for someone else to get rid of your body but as soon as another demon touches your body, vox snaps and shoves them away and picks you up himself

They had to decide what to do with your body

Velvette suggested stuffing you like a doll and keeping you in her office so she could choose a new outfit for you everyday, but Vox and Valentino refused

Not because it’s disturbing and disrespectful for your dead body, but because she’d have more time with you then they would

Valentino suggested having your body burnt and fashioning accessories out of your ashes, but the other two said it would be a waste of your body

Eventually Vox had an idea, and he searched for a demon he met many many years ago

This demon had the ability to restore an item to the original condition it was in 24 hours before

It wouldn’t be able to bring you back to life since they had just missed the 24 hour window when finding your body, but they could keep your body in its first stage of the effects of death

That means your body would remain warm and soft, as if you were just sleeping

Vox had your wounds stitched up to make you look like you were just asleep and he placed you in your bed and commanded the demon to come every day and restore your body so you wouldn’t rot away

He chose to deal with your death by throwing himself into denial

He’d pretend you were just sick in bed and would still visit your corpse every night to ‘check up on you’

He’d watch you through the cameras in your bedroom in case you needed him

He started finishing work earlier to spend time with your corpse and calming ‘his daughter was sick so he had to get going’

If someone tried to point out you were dead they would receive a threatening glare and even more if they weren’t Valentino or velvette

Velvette refused to go along with that plan for the first few months, and chose to deal with your death by pushing her feelings down and finding a replacement

She assumed it was like buying a new dog after her old one had died, and refused to believe she had any emotional attachment to you

So she tried finding your replacement

She’d hire assistant after assistant who either shared your physical looks, your personality, your ability or your mannerisms

But none of them could match you in the way she needed, so she’d end up killing them or firing them

So she gave in to voxs fantasy, and began to talk to your corpse like you’d respond and began to dress your body in a new outfit every day

This worked for her, she could pretend you were here and she could still deny ever having an attachment to you

Valentino was surprisingly the one to not live into the fantasy that you were only asleep

He was the one to care about you the least in life, but he was also the one to mourn you the most on death and feel the most guilt

He drowned his sorrows in his drugs, his alcohol and his employees

He thought about how he treated you in your life, and while he didn’t feel guilt for how he abused you he did feel like a part of his missed having someone around who he could pour his frustrations into

But now you were a dead, and that somehow humanised you to him

He sometimes would get so drunk that he’d wander into your room and sit beside your corpse just to vent about how angry he felt that you’d died

How dare you? Who gave you permission to leave?

He’d just stare at your corpse and scoff, not buying into the delusions that the other two were about your dead body just being asleep

He held a funeral for you which just had him and angel dust in attendance since the other two Vs refused to believe you were dead

Angel dust was only invited because val wanted something warm to hold as he felt the complicated feelings your death brought out in him

And even so, angel dust was sure that however sad your death was and how tragic it was

You were better off dead then living with these people

@corvid007 @buttercupfangirl @lilyalone @ivebeenthearchersstuff @repostingmyfavs @the-faceless-bride @fandomaddict505 @hazbinhotelxreader @perkypeony @sparkleyfishies @idontreallyexistyet

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lazycats-stuff · 6 months

Note

What about male reader being Alfred's nephew who came to live with him because his parents died or were just unfit parents? Alfred isn't all too happy that he's here, but not because he hates him, no, but because Gotham isn't the safest place and the fact that he's bow living with the vigilante family isn't the greatest fact. I feel like Alfred would be very overprotective of his nephew, and just the family's reaction to Alfred's nephew, i feel like the family didn't really ask Alfred about his family and such .

Oh yeah, some Alfred for the soul. That man needs more love. Also, this will be under Batfamily since I'm too lazy to put a new masterlist for Alfred.

Summary: Alfred's nephew comes to live with Bruce and the rest of the fam.

Warnings: child abuse, mentions, mentions of what happened, everyone trying to make sure that (Y/N) is comfortable, Alfred being protective.

Alfred left the UK and London behind a long time ago. He had his training and career as a soldier and then as a spy. Soon enough, his path led him to the USA, where he got a job as a butler for the Wayne family, even before Bruce was even in the picture. It wasn't really easy to leave his life behind, but Alfred knew it was for the better.

He needed a new beginning after everything he has witness over the years. Especially since his sister cut contact with him. Alfred, while said, he knew he couldn't change her mind in the slightest. But that didn't matter today. What mattered was his new family and his four grandsons and son.

Yes, he did consider Bruce to be his son. After all, he did raise him from when he was 7. And as his four grandsons came along, he was happy.

As far as his old family? Around 13 years ago, his sister had a baby. A boy named (Y/N). Yes, Alfred kept some tabs on his family, just to make sure that everything was like okay back there. Years went by and when (Y/N) was 13, Alfred got a call.

It wasn't a pleasant one.

Alfred sighed as he ended the call, rubbing his temples, muttering a lot of unpleasant things underneath his breath. His nephew (Y/N) was taken out of his sister's custody because she was abusive in every since of the word. And in every shape too.

Starving, beatings... Neglect...

Alfred was really mortified and he could barley speak as he remembered the conversation... He sighed and quickly made his way down to the kitchen opening up the cabinet where he held the strongest drinks in the manor. He poured himself a glass of scotch, since it was the first thing he could see.

I downed the scotch in one sip before pouring himself another one. He sighed yet again, leaning on the kitchen counter, trying not to snap.

" Something happened? " Bruce asked from behind him and Alfred sighed for the third time.

" Well master Bruce... Something did happen. " Alfred said, taking the glass and turning around to face Bruce. Alfred knew that (Y/N) had to come live here... But this family is full of vigilantes... But this is also a safe space too.

" What happened Alfred? " Bruce asked, worried for the man. Alfred is often composed and sarcastic, but now, he was shaken and just... Sad?

" My nephew is in the custody of CPS, well, at least the British version. " Alfred started and Bruce crossed his arms as he leaned on the doorway.

" I didn't know you had a nephew... " Bruce admitted softly and Alfred chuckled, sipping his scotch slowly.

" Yeah... My sister cut contact with me a long time ago master Bruce... " Alfred acknowledged and Bruce nodded, not knowing what to say.

" Either way... I'm the only family he has master Bruce, which means he will have to come here. " Alfred whispered, downing his scotch again.

" That's not a problem Alfred. I'll make space for (Y/N), clear out one room for him and talk to the boys. " Bruce responded and Alfred shook his head, making Bruce frown and tilt his head in confusion.

" That's something I know you would do master Bruce. " Alfred explained and poured himself more scotch. " It's... You are Batman and the danger that comes with that name... I can't bring my nephew into more danger. " Alfred finished explaining and downed the scotch once more.

" It will be different. We will be honest with him. " Bruce said and Alfred did have to agree, they had to be honest with him.

" He will flying here tomorrow master Bruce, so we will need to pick him up. But before hand, we need to talk to the boys. And it will need to be serious. "

" Of course it will be serious Alfred. (Y/N) will feel safe here. And if any boys are out of line, send them to me Alfred. I'll call them down now so we can talk about this. " Bruce said before he went upstairs.

Alfred just finished a bottle in the meantime.

Bruce sat his sons down, telling them that this is very serious.

" Now, listen to Alfred intently. He is officially a lead on this. " Bruce said and sat down. The four boys looked at Alfred, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

" Well... My nephew is coming here to live with us. His parents, my sister and her husband were abusive to him... Physically, verbally... They starved him too... Either way, he is in a bad mental place. Which means that you four better be on your best behavior. No fights in front of him, both verbal and physical. Don't force him to talk about it and try to befriend him. " Alfred finished, looking at his grandsons with a pointed look.

" Is that all you had to say? " Dick asked and Alfred nodded.

" You have a nephew?! " Jason exclaimed and Alfred nodded.

" Okay, that... I thought you had no family. " Tim said and Alfred sighed and Bruce smiled sadly.

" I thought you were an agent for the MI6 and had no family... Like killed off. " Damian said and Alfred sighed yet again.

" Okay boys, that's enough commentary. " Bruce said and they all grumbled. " It's important that (Y/N) feels safe here. And Alfred has my full permission to put you all back in line. "

" As if he ever needed permission. " Jason mumbled quietly and Dick smacked the back of his head.

" Thank you master Dick. "

" Everyone, this is (Y/N). " Alfred said, introducing his nephew to his grandsons. " (Y/N), these are the infamous Wayne kids. I don't think anymore introduction is needed. " Alfred said, glancing at his shy nephew.

" Now (Y/N), let me lead you to your room. " Alfred said and gently lead (Y/N) to his room. It was one of the bigger ones, with a lot of room and a comfortable bed.

" Now (Y/N), are you hungry? Because it's lunchtime in America at the moment. " Alfred said as (Y/N) put a small suitcase on the bed.

" I could eat something. " (Y/N) said and Alfred nodded, smiling at the fact that (Y/N) would eat something.

" I was thinking about some burgers actually. I can make a good one, with my awesome recipe. Do you want to come down or do you want to stay in your room? " Alfred asked softly.

" I would like to go down... This is a nice place... " (Y/N) said, still nervous.

" I agree it is nice, now come on mate, lets go down. " Alfred said and let (Y/N) go down. Alfred gently led him down to the kitchen and (Y/N) sat down, the boys all around him, keeping some distance, trying to not make him feel overwhelmed.

" So... Is it true that the Queen is a lizard? " Jason asked out of the blue and (Y/N) rolled his eyes at that, but with a smile.

" She passed away. " (Y/N) said and Jason raised his brow.

" No. "

" Yes. "

Jason scoffed with a smile and Alfred listened as he started making the meat mixture for the patties.

" Is it true that people from London speak the best English? " Dick asked and (Y/N) rolled his eyes.

" It's not true. It's so far from the truth... " (Y/N) said and Dick chuckled.

" Well, the royals are there and they must be educated... So how come? " Dick joked and (Y/N) shrugged his shoulders.

" Is it true that gun control is tighter? " Jason asked curiously and (Y/N) nodded.

" Damn... Well, welcome to the land of freedom. " Jason joked and (Y/N) smiled, but it was tiny. Tiny as hell.

" If you hear a bald eagle screeching it means you have reached the peak of staying here. " Tim stated and (Y/N) rolled his eyes a bit.

(Y/N) turned his head when he saw Titus, the Great Dane walking in with his head high and tail wagging at the sight of a newcomer. Damian was ready to intervene if necessary, but Titus was calm with people.

Damian watched as Titus sniffed (Y/N)'s hands, licking them softly and then (Y/N) hesitantly petting him.

" What's his name? " (Y/N) asked, not sure who to ask directly.

" His name is Titus. " Damian answered as he kept watching, tilting his head in wonder.

" Is he yours? " (Y/N) asked as he scratched Titus' ears.

" Yes he is. " Damian answered and (Y/N) moved down his hand to Titus' cheek. " He is huge... " (Y/N) mumbled as he kept patting Titus, who was wagging his tail.

" He is a Great Dane so he is big. " Damian explained and (Y/N) stopped petting him, making Titus whine.

" He is a big baby. " Jason chimed in and Damian nodded.

Alfred put the things he needed aside and checked on (Y/N) and the way he was handling the situation was great. The boys didn't push him, joked about something with him... And (Y/N) was comfortable. That was the most important thing here.

Thankfully, Alfred and Bruce both have experience with sort of traumatized children so (Y/N) will be able to heal properly. And the truth about them being vigilantes... Well, that can wait until (Y/N) is more stable.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #alfred pennyworth x male reader

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ethereal-night-fairy · 7 months

Text

Silver Tongues, like Bullets

Chapter 3

Werewolf!141 x Female Reader

So maybe you weren't the spy they thought you were..

That just meant they had to find others reasons to keep you...

Warnings: MDNI, dark themes, manipulation, lying and gaslighting, drugging, humiliation, kidnapping, non-con touching, non-con looking, forced proximity, forced nudity, groping, manhandling, panty stealing, poly 141 taking care of reader, reader is bedridden for a while, she needs help with everything...and I mean everything, some religious themes, reader comes from a religious household, sorry if a missed any.

Silver Tongues like Bullets Masterlist

Words: 5.1k

-24/11/2023 11:00am

The cabin was pleasantly warm, the air carrying notes of burning cedar throughout the rooms. The fog had cleared up but no one was in the mood to leave the cabin. Even Soap decided to stay in, which was surprising. He’d be the first to take any chance to run in his wolf form. But since you left a little over an hour ago things didn't feel the same. The cabin felt colder, emptier, not as lively as before. Soap was gazing out the window from his place beside Simon who was on the laptop still going through your emails and social media trying to find information. They've both been mopey since your departure though Simon hid it pretty well. Price felt the same; he was much better at hiding it though. It was so odd how infatuated with you they had become. Yet the older two would never admit it…not yet anyways.

They received a call from Laswell in the early hours with an update. She hadn't found anything useful but she said she'd keep searching and call later. Price had caught Simon gazing at your sleeping form when he woke to take the call, though he had decided not to say anything to the brooding man. They all acted normal when you woke up, trying their best to get you to eat breakfast with them. But you were evasive and skittish, asking to leave as soon as possible. It seemed you had caught on that they drugged you. Your scared expression made Gaz and Soap heart ache since you didn't talk to them like you did yesterday. All they wanted to do was hold and cuddle you but it was too soon for that. Just as Gaz was about to make an excuse. Simon had chimed in and said that the hot chocolate was meant for him since he didn't like taking his pills straight. You looked surprised when he had spoken to you but accepted the lie without question.

You really needed some common sense knocked into you…or fucked into you...preferably fucked into you…they'll get to that eventually. You still refused to eat breakfast though and waited patiently for them to be done.

The rest of the plan went smoothly enough. You seemed upset when the truck had ‘broken’ down but didn't make a fuss about it. Rather you just asked for directions to find your way home alone. Even accepted their lie about having no reception on their phones without even checking them. That’s when the real plan kicked in and Gaz grabbed a map insisting on taking you back to the hiking trails himself as an ‘apology’.

Since then Gaz has been keeping Price updated through sneaky texts sent here and there. And Soap only just quieted down trying to convince the other two men to keep you. It’s not that Simon and Price didn't want to keep you because they definitely did. Imagining you in their shared countryside home was an absolute dream come true. Thinking about coming home to your loving arms after a long mission would fix their souls. But kidnapping you wasn't the answer, it wouldn't exactly make you trust them now would it? It was better to do it the proper way. Though they had to leave soon they could always come back and try to court you properly. If the infatuation with you stays, that is. Price was still convinced that this reaction they were all feeling was because they haven't been around anyone but themselves and Laswell for a really long time. You were a change of pace, something new, something exciting, something for the boys to sink their teeth into. For now they all waited patiently for Laswell's call. When the *ping* rings out throughout the living room, everyone's head snaps to the phone sitting on the coffee table. Soap lunges for the phone first but before he can text Gaz for pictures Price takes it from him.

Gaz: Arrived at the lake. She's upset and crying thinking we both got lost even with a map. It's kinda cute ngl. Any updates?

Price: Not yet. Should be soon. Keep her calm.

Gaz: 👍🏽

The phone rings not a second later which Price immediately picks up

Laswell: Nothing was found John. She's just a civvie from a religious family. Nothing to be worried about. It's a small town where she lives in doubt anyone would believe her if she said anything. There's a couple recent facebook posts from her parents shunning her. Claiming she ran away to join a city cult or something. And a bunch of older ones just insulting her for her choice in career. Apparently they wanted her to marry a youth pastor but she had rejected him and gone to college instead which upset them. They've been quiet since she began depositing majority of her paychecks into their accounts but a fight broke out recently when she told them she accepted a job offer in London. Her story checks out she wasn't lying. I do feel kinda bad for her though. It seemed like they had kicked her out. Poor girl probably has nowhere to go even when she makes it back into town.

Price thanks Laswell before hanging up. This…this changes everything…Soap and Ghost are on him instantly but he just holds his hand up as he texts Gaz a new plan of action.

Price: Bring her back by whatever means. We're keeping her… (message not sent)

Price tries several times to send the message but it doesn't work. A cold sweat runs down Price's forehead as he forces himself to stay calm for the sake of his lovers. As their captain in situations like these they were relying on him. Dread and panic sets into the other two as they scramble to their phones trying to call Gaz but it never connects. Immediately Price tells Ghost to track Gaz’s chipped necklace on the laptop after 10 minutes of calls not going through. Soap is pacing the room ready to bolt into the forest any second now as Ghost works frantically to get the screen to load up. Price waits patiently with his hands clenched. This was like that sedative incident all over again. The fear, the pain, the looming destruction of their pack, of his lovers was something he never wanted to face again. He had promised himself he wouldn't let it happen again. That he wouldn't allow them to be taken away from him. He was second away from calling Laswell screaming at her that her intel was wrong that they had got his boy. But the screen finally loads up. They stare at it shocked, not really comprehending what it was showing them. It showed Gaz's location right at the cabin but he couldn't get back in such a short time unless he was running in wolf form. They all ran to go check the treeline to see what was chasing him. There's no way that they think they'll go down without a fight.

They all burst out the cabin door, almost taking it off the hinges. Their body's heating, muscles bulging ready to tear their clothes right off them. But they stand there in shock as Gaz breaks through the treeline not fully in wolf form but not entirely human either. His eyes were glowing amber as heat radiated off his defined muscle. His clothes were ripped where his muscles bulged too much but he was cradling something close to his chest.

They ran, meeting him halfway as he shifted back slowly. He collapsed onto the grass as he called out for help. As they got closer they realised he was drenched and he was holding your unconscious body. You looked paler than before, the colour completely drained from your lips. Your clothes were soaked through and clinging to your body. Your jacket was missing too.

Price is on Gaz in an instant helping him get up as Ghost takes your unconscious form from him bolting inside as Soap goes to get Gaz a towel. Everything was frantic for the next few minutes. They didn't have time to ask questions, they just went off instinct as they moved around getting things ready for a warm bath.

Price brought Gaz to your room as Ghost began stripping you of your wet clothes. You weren't responsive and your body was very cold which concerned the men. They needed to get you warmed up as soon as possible.

“Soap get the bath ready!”, Ghost shouted over his shoulder as he tried his best not to ogle as he peeled your bagging clothes off your beautiful body. Ghost threw your wet clothes and panties to the side as he took your soft body into his arms, instructing Soap to go put them out to dry. Price begins stripping Gaz as they reach the bathroom. He seemed to be in need of a warm bath too. The poor lad looked shaken. He'll wait before asking questions. Once everything was in order Gaz settled into the tub waiting for Ghost to lower your body onto his. Ghost did so though a bit reluctantly. He didn't seem to want to let you go.

Before you lost consciousness all you felt was the prickle of cold water entering your lungs. You watched as the blue liquid engulfed your vision as you felt yourself sinking deeper into the depths of the lake. Your limbs had locked up the second you touched the water. The cold penetrating through your clothing, freezing your skin over. Your last breath comes out in strained bubbles as you try in a last ditch effort to call for help. Was this how you were going to die? Was this the end of everything? You hadn't even had your first kiss yet…you hadn't even begun to experience life. Sad thoughts run through your head as your vision began to blur.

Your eyes are forced awake by the feeling of your body being submerged in liquid fire. The smell of pine and mint wafts through the humid air making your head spin. You open your teary eyes to find yourself in a tub. You watch someone leave the bathroom as two strong arms wrapped around your naked body. They massage your waist, running fingers up your sternum between your breasts. You try moving your mouth but your muscles are tense and sore. You feel your head spin from the whiplash in temperatures you're experiencing. You watch as someone gently tilts your head back as they run their sudsy fingers through your hair alleviating some of the pain you're feeling. Price meets your eyes with a gentle smile as Gaz holds your body closer to his. You feel the hard muscles of his chest on your back, as well as his toned arms wrapping around you to keep you warm. You try moving your mouth again but your body feels like lead. You tried desperately to tell them not to touch you so casually. That you needed to go home but nothing came out of your mouth apart from gentle moans and whimpers. They just shush and coo at you as your eyes become heavy with fatigue again, not before catching the end of some conversation Soap was having.

“Put her in my clothes.. they'll fit her the best…no I don't know where her panties went…I swear I don't have the-…”

Then everything fades into black as you let the warm fingers massaging your head lull you to sleep.

-25/11/2023 03:00am

The cabin was dead quiet as you finally managed to peel your eyes awake from your exhaustion. You feel your head pounding. Everything felt fuzzy as if you were in a dream. The prickly pain from hunger was gnawing away at your stomach causing you to stir from your fever induced sleep. The only sounds you hear is of the wind blowing through the trees and of wolves howling. Wolves? There shouldn't be wolves in this forest. You don't think they're native to the area. It reminds you of the fever dream you had when Gaz had rescued you. He looked like a beast but that couldn't be true…right? You were probably hallucinating since too much lake water entered your system. Nothing felt real, nothing felt tangible. You weren't even sure you were alive anymore.

You don't know how long you've been asleep for. But your body felt like a dead weight. You feel like your limbs are tied down but you know they aren't. It's just extremely difficult to move with the burning fever raging through your body. You felt hot and sticky, wanting to get this thick duvet of your body to let the sweat dry.

It seems like your prayers are answered as you hear the front door open and some feet shuffling in. You'll have to ask the men for some help, it doesn't seem like you'd be able to move properly any time soon. Hopefully their truck was fixed so they could drop you back home tomorrow. You were supposed to be at work today, you didn't want to leave a bad impression before you left for London in two weeks time. Maybe this was all a dream and you'll wake up in your own bed after this nightmare ends.

You hear someone enter your room but it was too dark to see. You try saying something but your throat is bone dry and it just comes out in croaks. The person just shushes you as they peel the duvet gently off your body. You enjoy the cold air for a second. Letting it dry your clammy skin. What you don't enjoy is their hands starting to roam your body as they peel away the shirt you're wearing. You whine as you protest to the best of your ability but they don't stop. It's only when the light flicks on that your blurry vision clears after a second. Your eyes meet with Soap who's stripping you like he's done it before and has no problem seeing you naked. He smiles and coos at you while you try to get him to stop. When Ghost walks in with a basin and wash cloth his eyes are unreadable and then you understand why they're stripping you.

But you don't want them touching you, you're able to clean yourself you try to say but nothing comes out. Why did they feel so comfortable with touching you however they wanted? They weren't like this when you first met them. You were already upset by the fact they had put you in a tub with Gaz without your permission. They were taking their hospitality too far. You just wanted to go home. You hoped your parents weren't too mad at you. Maybe they've sent someone looking for you by now. The situation with these men was proving to be dangerous. You had a horrible feeling that they were stalling for time. They could have just dropped you into town if the truck was fixed, if not they could've called emergency services somehow. But wasn't like you have the energy to argue with them.

You can't do much as you're stripped bare. Tears cloud your vision as you beg them to stop in your hoarse voice but it comes out intelligible. You watch as they coo at you carefully wiping your tears and sweat away. Soap is sitting beside your head whispering reassuring words as you cry from the humiliation of watching Ghost run the warm wet cloth over your underarms, body and mound. Making sure to pay extra attention to your folds as he cleans in between them. You squirm as you cry louder making your already hoarse voice worse.

“Come on hen.. thare’s nae need to cry like that..we just want tae help ye.” Soap wipes your tears away as he nuzzles into your neck while Ghost dries you. You watch as Ghost takes off the hoodie he's wearing to put on your naked body. The smell of his aftershave hits you instantly as he gathers you in his arms while carrying you towards the bathroom. You stop crying seeing no point in tiring yourself out but the sniffles are hard to control. Why were they doing this to you? He places you on the toilet, making sure to gather the hoodie above your waist so you don't end up soiling it. This is by far the most humiliating situation you've ever been in your life. You bend over trying to hide you private parts from their view. Yes you needed to pee but they could at least leave you so you could do your business. They didn't seem to take the hint even with you glaring at them.

But Soap took your slumping figure as indication of your fatigue and decided he'll help you sit straight while you do you business. You claw at his arms with your full strength not that you had much but you definitely left marks as you hear him hiss. He didn't seem angry though and Ghost just watched intensely as you tried to hold in your pee.

“It ok hen..just do your business we'll clean ye after…nae need tae worry…”

“You need to hurry love…the food will get cold if you keep refusing to pee…I know you don't like it here…we'll take you home once you're feeling better…”, Tears slip past your waterline again as you do as your told not being able to hold your bladder any longer. Your cheeks heat from mortification rather than your fever, as the two men encourage you while Ghost goes to grab some tissue and water to wipe you clean. God please let this be a dream…a very very bad dream.

-25/11/2023 08:00pm

When you awake this time it's to throw up again. It's dark still you don't if you've be asleep for a couple minutes or for many hours. It seems like you can't catch the sun anymore. You didn't like the dark. It made everything feel oppressive and sinister. You don't know what's wrong but any food smell causes your stomach to churn. And the second the smell of meat came through your door you were fighting to keep the bile at bay. You get up on shaky legs to go to the bathroom to throw up. Your stomach felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out. When was the last time you ate? There’s only a chalky residue left on your tongue probably from the medication they gave you. But when did they give it to you? You can't remember anything. Your memories and nightmares were starting to blur together making everything feel like a drug induced hallucination.

Your muscles were sore and you weren't able to stay steady on your feet without the help from the wall as you walked along. You look down to find your clothes have changed again. Maybe you've just been hallucinating the bad encounters you've been having.

There's no way they would watch you pee or force you to take a bath with them right? Or constantly strip you to wipe away sweat right? You think you might have thrown up in your crying fits but you can't remember much. Yeah it was probably just an awful dream. There's no way they would have dealt with your tantrums and or cleaned up the mess you made. Men aren't like that. Your father certainly isn't. He never took care of your mother when she was sick. It was always you or your siblings. They probably just changed you and left you to rest with some painkillers. Even doing that was more than what most men would do so you should be thankful they were looking after you. But you wished they'd just get you home somehow. It must be some strong painkillers you can't seem to remember anything in too much detail. Like everything was blurring into one colour. You needed to cleanse your system before you pass out again.

You just about make it to the toilet bowl as your insides decide they don't want to stay inside anymore. Your stomach muscles strain and tense as your body tries to dispel the drugs you've been fed recently. The bitter taste of bile and something else was sour on your tongue. You don't even have a proper recollection of what happened in the last two days…

You feel a warm hand brush your hair out of your face as you continue to throw up. An odd feeling filled your chest… you were never taken care off like this before..It caused something warm to stir in your heart. Your head was still fuzzy so you didn't register someone holding water to your lips when you're done. It's like you're on autopilot. One second you're rinsing your mouth the next you're in bed with Gaz who's cradling your head to his chest. He coos and shushing you as he feeds you little pieces of bread with butter…At least it wasn't meat…your sure you'd throw up again if it was…

Your hazy vision catches sight of your clothing again. When did they change you? Were you hallucinating again? You silently eat your bread, not having the energy to argue anymore. Some sustenance was nice after everything that happened. It’s when the glass of water touches your lips you're met with a familiar chalky taste that makes you realise maybe you aren't hallucinating after all. But you don't get much time to dwell on it before sleep takes you.

-26/11/2023 12:00pm

For the first time in what feels like forever you see sunlight streaming through the curtains in the room. Your head felt too heavy and too light at the same time. Like you're fighting to keep your head up right but also felt like it was about to float away. Your head loses its battle as you stop trying to sit up. It was too much effort to try to move anymore and you needed to pee again…great…

You hear hushed sounds coming from outside the door just as you're about to call out for help. You try to make out words but your head's disoriented and your bladder is demanding your attention.

“There wa…search party se-…-ey found her jacket…unwanted attention….we need tae lea-…” you don't understand what they're saying but you try listening again but it's just a jumble of accents.

“...…the news rep-.... proclaimed drown-....no body fou-...-ght she's a spy…”, Spy? They thought you were a spy? Why would they think that?

“...we're taking her with us…”, your mind jolts when you hear those words. ‘We're taking her with us’…They were never going to let you go were they? Fear seeps into every fiber of your being. The fact you were drugged and unable to move was even worse. What were they going to do with you? Murder you? Torture you? Sell you off?

A sob leaves your mouth before you can stop it and the hushed voices come to abrupt stop. You hold your breath trying to keep yourself from crying, not wanting them to become suspicious of you. Soap is the first to walk in his eyes scanning the room before his eyes land on your weakened state. His eyes soften ever so slightly but he seemed on edge.

“What's wrong pretty girl…what do ye need?”, your mind races to come up with an excuse so it doesn't seem like you were crying because you heard them.

“B-bathroom”, you whisper through your tears. That seems to release the tension in his shoulders as he come to pick you up to take you to the toilet. When you pass the other men they give you gentle smiles as Soap helps you with your business. They make themselves scarce giving you some privacy. You didn't trust their gentle smiles. You knew what you heard, you weren't going to gaslight yourself into thinking these men had your best interest at heart. You needed to leave!

You watch as Soap cleans you, his arms were covered in claw marks more than likely your doing. He had a tendency to get too handy when ‘helping’. He seemed to be learning though since he cleans you quickly this time around. You still weren't happy about all the touching and cuddling you feel at night though. But at least you're knocked out for the majority of it. You didn't know how you were going to escape, you barely had any energy to support yourself. Just standing for a few minutes took all your energy out of you. Soap carries you back gently. You needed to get food in you if you planned on running away. It was best if you acted like nothing had changed. Like you were expecting them to drop you off home soon. Just until you figure out how you'd escape their clutches that is. You catch Soap arms just as he's about to leave after tucking you in.

“Food?”

“Awe bunny are ye hungry?”, you just give him a nod with pouty lips, hoping to gather some sympathy from him.

“Lunch isn't ready yet. Ah’ll get ye something tae munch on ok?” You give him a gentle smile as he leaves. You'll have to use your charm to get him to take you out for some fresh air tomorrow. It's the only chance at escape you'll get. God why did it have to be you? All you ever wanted was to work in the city. Was that so bad? Maybe if you were a better daughter things wouldn't have ended this way. Maybe if you didn't run out on your parents you wouldn't have gotten lost in the forest. Maybe if you had married that pastor you wouldn't be in this situation. But now wasn't the time to think God had forsaken you…You needed all the help you could get.

-29/11/2023 09:00am

“Bunny please eat something…you haven't touched your food since we brought you home…”, You weren't going to either, you were tired of getting drugged. God knows what they do to you when you're passed out.

“Luv come now…he even made your favourite breakfast…everything we do is because we care for you..”, Price chimes on his way to install bolted locks to some of the doors.

“I understand yer mad hen but we just wanna take care of ye…ye'll get used tae living here.. promise”, you give Soap a particularly nasty look as he follows Price to do some renovations. They were in a hurry since they had to leave soon.

You glare at Gaz like he's the source of all your misfortune. Like he's the reason everything has gone wrong in your life. You can't believe you ever found this man sweet or charming. You're tucked into the furthest corner of the sofa you could find with a cushion clutched to your chest for protection. It was one of those nice expensive ones too. God you hated these deranged rich bastards. Everything in this home felt like it was high quality. You wanted to kick yourself because all you could think about was all the nice pictures you could take…if you had your camera that is. It was the first nice camera you bought. You had worked so hard to save up for only for it to be drowned like your hopes and dreams.

You didn't like the fact the place was so warm and homey. For some deranged kidnappers you were expecting someplace easier to hate, somewhere that didn't have so much love and character put into the design aspect of the home.

When you had first woken up you found yourself in a very large bed surrounded by them in what you later found out to be Price's room. You hadn't realised they were in that kind of relationship. You didn't understand what they wanted from you. They reassured you they knew you weren't a spy and that they definitely weren't going murder or hurt you for information. Why did they take you then?

They all had large rooms with large beds to accommodate them all. All uniquely decorated to fit everyone's vastly different aesthetic. They tried convincing you to sleep in one of their beds last night but you insisted on the sofa. You all slept in the living room last night with some on the sofas and others on a large mattress on the floor. You can't believe they bothered to carry that huge thing just so they could sleep near you. You'd find it endearing if you weren't literally trying to escape your kidnappers.

They tried claiming the guest room needed to be renovated. That they'd make a comfortable space here for you. That they'd decorate however you like once they get back home from their new mission. Had they gone insane? What made them think you were upset about a damn room rather than the fact they had KIDNAPPED you. What made them think you'd be ok being kept against your will?

You had tried asking if it was because you found out their secret. You begged and promised that you wouldn't tell a living soul but they just chuckled saying they fell in love with you and just wanted to take care of you. They really were insane…You're stuck with a bunch of lunatics. You wished you had realised that sooner. Maybe you'd be safe at home by now or possibly packing for your move to London. God why you…

You wish they would just leave so you could try to escape or call for help. It wasn't going to be easy. The house was like a fortress. Heavily equipped with cameras and an advanced locking system. But you just needed to bide your time. You weren't going let someone else dictate your life anymore. You worked too hard to get here. You were sick of being a pushover. You're sure your parents would have declared you a missing person by now. Yeah everything will work out, you'll be home in no time. You'll figure out a way to get home. You continue to ignore Gaz as you watch the men with keen eyes while they carry tools and such to ‘your’ room. They must think you're an idiot if they believe they'll get the chance to lock you in that room without a fight…

617 notes · View notes

thecharacterchronicler · 2 months

Text

Heirloom (Part 3) || Ominis Gaunt x Reader || Smut

Outline: Weeks after your arranged wedding, you and Ominis have a few things to confess to each other…

Word count: 3’925

Warnings: arranged marriage, panic attack, (unwanted) pregnancy and explicit smut.

(( Part 1 - Bloodline )) - (( Part 2 - Please )) - (( Masterlist ))

The living room was plunged in darkness, the old clock ticking on top of the chimney, where a slightly outdated portrait of the Gaunts hung, each member coldly keeping an eye on the manor. You walked in, nervously playing with your hands as you approached the green velvet sofa facing the fireplace, finding Ominis lying down on it, his blond hair in a mess gainst his pillow and his tie losened.

You felt bad for waking him at such a late hour of the night but you had spent the past few hours after dining together hoping he would join you in his bedroom but it seemed tonight - like every other night - he had preferred the sofa instead of sharing a bed with you. Of course, you wanted to respect his boundaries and his privacy. You knew that Ominis had married you out of the goodness of his heart, because he was your friend and wanted to save you from a far more tragic fate, not because he felt anything more than friendship towards you and, although you had engaged in marital duties twice since your wedding night, his stubbornness to sleep in the living room made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t planning on it happening again…

“Ominis.” You called, softly, as you gently brushed a strand of pale blond hair away from his forehead.

You didn’t expect him to jump, startled by the intrusion despite your gentleness. He immediately sat up, his pale eyes shooting open in panic.

“It’s me.” You told him, to reassure him and it seemed to worked, his body immediately relaxing as he recognized your voice.

“What’s the matter ? Is everything alright ?” He asked you, suddenly worried.

“Yes… Or maybe not, actually.” You replied, hesitantly. You looked over your shoulder to the portrait of his family, watching you with cold stares and haughty faces. “Can we talk… In private ?”

“Of course.” He nodded, getting up from the couch to follow you out of the living room. You went upstairs, down the dark corridor that led to your bedroom - his bedroom - out of habit, it was the only place in the manor where you truly felt safe, no portraits or house elves to spy on you.

He closed the door after himself and you began to nervously pace around the room, unsure of what to say. You had tried to talk to him all day long with no avail, not that he didn’t listen, you always had his full attention whenever you opened your mouth to speak. It just that you were terrified of his reaction and the effect it might have on your marriage.

“It’s terrible, Ominis.” You warned him, still walking around the room as he stood still by the door, his head following the sound of your footsteps on the creaking floor. “I’m so sorry, you can’t imagine how bad I feel, I never meant for this to happen.”

“Now you’re scaring me, darling.” He said, worry in his tone and etched on his face. “What is going on ?”

“I don’t want to hurt or upset you, I really am so sorry…” you continued, heart racing and chest heaving in panic.

“I could never be mad at you.” He stated, as if the very idea of it didn’t make any sense to him. “Whatever it is, you can trust me, I can hear it…”

“Oh no, Ominis, you’re going to be mad. Furious even. And you’ll hate me.” You assured him, as tears began rolling down your cheeks. You gasped as you felt his hand on your wrist, gripping you tightly to stop your frenetic pacing of the room. He pulled you closer, forcing you to look at him, which made it even worse. How were you supposed to tell him such a tragic news when you were certain to see the disappointment and anger on his face in reaction ? Your best friend had been nothing but kind to you and you had betrayed him, how could he forgive you ? And with such a wound in your still fragile marriage, how could he ever love you afterwards ?

Because that was the worse of it all, the idea that he’d never love you as much as you loved him. He was a loyal friend who had sacrificed his future for your sake, agreed to be married to you for the rest of his life so that you wouldn’t have to be with his brother and you had had the audacity to believe that, with time, his feelings for you might evolve into something more than friendship, especially when he had agreed to be intimate with you, not once but twice… But the doubt always subsided; did he do this only because he was a good friend who couldn’t refuse you anything you demanded ?

That question had been haunting you for days, keeping you awake on most nights as you tortured yourself with the guilt you felt for forcing him in an arranged marriage and for wanting him to love you back so desperately.

But it didn’t matter anymore, anyway. Not with the unforgivable betrayal you were about to confess to him.

“I can assure you, darling, there’s nothing you could do that could make me hate you… So please, tell me what it is all about.”

You looked at his handsome face, his angel-like features and the worry he felt, so visible in his absent stare. You knew that you were going to ruin everything between the two of you and it broke your heart. The pain you felt in your chest felt like the stabbing of a burning knife, keeping you from breathing properly. You gasped for air but the bedroom suddenly seemed devoid of any, the sobs stuck in your throat making it even harder to fill your lungs. You started panting desperately, your body trembling. You were going to die, you were sure of that.

Ominis reached out to hold your other hand in his and guided you to his bed, making you sit down on the satin sheet as he took place next to you, his grip tightening on your hand. You felt his fingers gently brushing off some of the tears streaming down your face but it wasn’t enough to calm you down. You held his hand and gripped his arm with the other, digging your nails into his skin as you suffocated in panic. You felt lightheaded, as if you were about to faint and at this point, it almost felt like a welcomed reprieve…

Suddenly, you felt your new husband’s lips press on yours, interrupting the flow of your desperate gasps for air. It was a gentle kiss that only lasted a few seconds and, as soon as he moved away, you took a deep inhale, your lungs finally filling up with the air they so miserably craved.

“My apologies, I didn’t know what else to do to help.” Ominis said, as he wiped some tears away from your cheeks once more, before brushing your hair out of your face. You couldn’t deny that it had worked wonders, your breathing slowing down and your heart beating more steadily. “Now please, tell me what happened.”

“I have reasons to believe that…” you started, taking a break to inhale once more, nervously staring back at his pale eyes. “I might be pregnant.”

“Ah.” was all that he said. You searched his face for a reaction, some kind of emotion but he stayed impassive, blankly looking in your direction.

More tears escaped your eyes. It was the end of your friendship. The end of your marriage. The end of everything.

“I’m so sorry, Ominis. I really didn’t mean for it to happen, I know you wanted your bloodline to end with you.” You told him, your words interrupted by sobs. “I never meant to betray your trust like this…”

The sound of your cries seemed to knock him out of his shock, both of his hands reaching out to cup your face.

“Please, calm down. I cannot bear to hear you cry.” He said, his voice soft and warm despite the terrible news you had just shared with him. His touch was impossibly gentle as he placed another soft kiss on your lips, probably just to ensure you wouldn’t suffocate in panic once again. “It’s not your fault, I’m the one who’s been imprudent, I should have been more careful, it’s just that you are so… Perfect. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Then don’t hate me, please.”

“Never.” He stated, without hesitation. He silenced one of your sobs with another kiss, pulling you into a hug. You closed your eyes in his embrace, feeling relived that you had told him the secret you had been keeping for days, although you still couldn’t imagine him being anything other than angry because of it. Yet, he showed no sign of being upset - or feeling anything, really - focused on kissing you each time a cry got stuck in your throat.

As time went by, you ended up lying down on the bed, your head resting on the soft pillow and your body relaxing into the mattress, an exhaustion you had never felt before taking over you. Ominis stayed close, lying next to you with his arm resting over your body, some sloppy kisses shared as his hand slowly started wandering under your nightgown.

You weren’t sure how it had came to this, how could he still want to touch you knowing that you may be growing his heir in your belly ? How could he be so calm about it all when he had made it clear that it was the one thing he didn’t want to happen ? However, one thing you knew was that you had no intention of stopping him. Especially if the bold way his fingers were exploring your body was meant as a last moment of weakness before never speaking to you again.

He squeezed your breast between his fingers, probably noticing as well as you did how much more tender your flesh was compared to usual. You gasped as he pinched your unusually sensitive nipple, which had turned a few shades darker in the last few days. He apologized for his roughness by placing a wet kiss on your lips, before moving his mouth to the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with burning kisses.

You closed your arms around his shoulders, holding him close for a moment before moving to switch positions, straddling his legs as his head fell back on the pillow. His chest was heaving rapidly when you popped the buttons of his shirt open one by one, revealing the pale skin of his chest. You gently caressed your way down to his trousers, working on the buttons down there while his hands slowly caressed their way up your legs and thighs.

Once you were able to free his erection out of his pants, it stood gloriously straight up and hard in front of you, the soft pink tip glistening with his arousal. You gave it a few stroke with your hand, watching as he closed his eyes and opened his mouth in reaction, breathing heavily. You couldn’t think of anything more gratifying than seeing him like this, enjoying himself, because of you.

You tugged your nightgown up as you moved and gently lowered yourself on him, feeling his erection easily sliding inside you, stretching out your entrance and pushing past your walls until you could be fully seated on top of him.

“We shouldn’t.” Ominis breathed, his face clearly saying the opposite.

“I’m not sure it matters anymore.” You replied, instinctively placing a hand on your stomach. He groaned as his tip hit the deepest part of you and you left out a quiet whimper, loving how he filled you up so perfectly.

His hands flew to your hips, his fingers digging in your flesh as he guided you off him in an upwards motion. You believed he wanted you to get off of him for a moment, until he pulled you back down onto him with strength, causing his cock to slam inside you.

You pushed on your knees to repeat the same motion over and over again, following the pace he set, feeling an intense pleasure already building inside you.

“Goodness, I love you.” He breathed, eyes shut, head in a daze.

“What ?” You stopped yourself, sitting down on him, wanting to make sure you had heard him correctly before allowing your heart to burst with joy.

His eyes shot open, his expression mortified. You stared at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, and you could almost see the gears in his mind turning trying to come up with a proper explanation.

“I guess there’s no point keeping it a secret, we’re supposed to spend a lifetime together after all.” He admitted, carefully chosing his words as his cheeks turned pink. “So you might as well know that I love you. I’ve been intrigued by you from the moment we met, I’m not sure when my feelings turned into… something more, but I do know that my love for you is unconditional and irrevocable.”

It was your turn to be frozen in a shocked daze after hearing his confession, unsure of what to say or how to react. Earlier, you were convinced that he was going to detest you for the rest of your lives so such a turn in the situation was confusing and unexpected to say the least.

“Of course I do not expect anything from you, I’ve always known my feelings were unrequited and it is fine by me if it remains that way, I just thought that you ought to know…”

“Unrequited ?” You repeated, astonished. “Ominis, I’ve had feelings for you for years !”

“You… Really ?”

“Absolutely ! But you’ve always been so cold and distant even as a friend, I certainly didn’t think you felt anything for me.”

“Well, it seems we’ve been quite foolish to not talk about this sooner then.” He stated, still so serious while you left out a happy giggle. You leaned forward to kiss him, feeling his arms coming around you to hold you close.

You slowly started moving again, foreheads pressed against each other, his warm breath caressing your face with each of the low grunts of pleasure that came out of his mouth in reaction to the way you were swaying your hips on top of him. It felt even better this way, the short circular movements allowing you to feel his entire length and full girth inside you, exquisitely moving back and forth.

You weren’t that far from climaxing when he thrusted his hips upwards under you, adding more pressure to your tantalizing moves, making you cry out as the bubble of pleasure at your core imploded and your whole body was submerged with bliss. You heard him groan as he came too, fully releasing himself inside you as the consequences no longer mattered, his fingers still digging into your hips so strongly that it almost felt painful.

You collapsed on top of him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he attempted to recover from the intensity of his pleasure. You were already partly asleep in his arms, feeling blissfully safe and comfortable, when he turned over to get his satisfied cock out of you, before pulling the covers over your body and planting a final soft kiss on your lips.

You woke up as the morning rays of sunshine illuminated the bedroom, your head still swimming in bliss despite the soreness of your body. You turned to your side, to avoid facing the bright sunlight and to snuggle up against Ominis but, as you outstretched your hand to the other side of the bed, you didn’t find anyone else between the sheets.

A noise almost startled you, forcing your eyes open. You rubbed them a few times, struggling to sit up on the mattress as you found a shirtless Ominis, filling a heavy looking suitcase with various items from his bedroom. It took you a moment to realize what he was up to, but when you did, your heart sank in your chest.

“Are you leaving ?” You asked him, your voice breaking the silence of the bedroom, making him freeze in place. He threw a few more books inside the trunk before turning around to face in your direction.

“We are leaving.” He replied, approaching the bed.

A wave of relief hit you, happy that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere without you. A man who didn’t want to have kids would have fled during the night without looking back but Ominis was a gentleman, and he wasn’t just any man, he was your husband.

“And where are we going ?” You asked, as he sat down on the bed and you leaned to kiss his cheek, making him smile.

“Wherever you want to go, darling, as long as it is somewhere our families won’t find us.”

“So you’re planning on running away ?” You knew he had thought about it many times before, leaving without looking back so that he could be free from his family and no longer carry the burden of being a Gaunt. You often felt guilty about it, imagining that he would have done it after graduation if it weren’t for you and your arranged marriage to a Gaunt, leaving him no choice but to stay to make sure you wouldn’t be a victim of his family’s famous cruelty…

“It’s about time I do.” He stated, holding your hand tightly in his. “With all my savings and the few precious items I own, we should be able to live comfortably, far away from here.”

“And what about… The baby ?” You inquired, almost in a whisper. You hadn’t talked about it since you had dropped the news and you felt somewhat worried of his reaction if you reminded him about it…

“The baby won’t lack anything, neither will you. We’ll settle down somewhere comfortable and my family will never know of his existence. Our children will be safe.”

Your heart warmed at his words, joy bursting out of you in a stream of happy tears. The plan was perfect, there was nothing you wanted more than to disappear from society, be free from your families’ expectations and live a simple life, with the man you loved… And the babies you may be blessed with.

“I packed what I thought useful but I’ll leave it to your care to chose the outfits you’d like to take along.” He explained, standing up from the bed to get back to his task because he knew he was so easily distracted whenever he started touching and kissing you. “I have a few items to fetch from my father’s office. Then, we can leave whenever you are ready.”

You agreed and he placed a tender kiss on your forehead before leaving the bedroom. You stretched and got up, freshening up and getting dressed before opening the wardrobe’s doors wide and surveying each of your pieces of clothing one by one.

Once you were done choosing the most practical and appropriate outfits you owned, you giddily left the bedroom to go downstairs where you believed Ominis would be waiting for you. But instead of finding him excitedly waiting for you in the hallway, with all your and his belongings packed up, the first silhouette you saw wasn’t his and your heart jumped. You hurried downstairs to stand by Ominis’ side, straightening up although Marvolo’s cold and twisted gaze always made you feel in danger.

“I see you and your wife are about to leave on a little vacation, a honeymoon perhaps ?” The oldest Gaunt stated, his eyes on the luggage waiting by the door. “I’m sure mother and father would love to know where you are going.”

“Don’t worry about it, they know.” Ominis lied, his tone cold, as his arm protectively came around your waist, pulling you against his body.

“Do they ? Mother seemed pretty determined to keep you both locked up in here until your wife produced an heir… Unless ?” His deranged eyes dropped to your belly which you couldn’t help but cover with your hand in reaction, as if you could protect your unborn child from his abominable uncle that way.

“This family won’t get an heir from me. Not now and not ever.” Your husband declared, but you clearly noticed he wasn’t as determined as he used to be about it.

“It’s fine by me.” Marvolo shrugged, his gaze still on you but clearly focused on something else now. “All that matters to me is that you give me back what belongs to me.”

“Such as ?”

“Such as the precious ring on your wife’s finger.”

“Father gave me this heirloom as a present for the wedding and I gave it to her.”

“It should have been mine, I’m the eldest son.”

“Father knew that you wouldn’t take care of it properly, that’s why he gave it to me. What do you want that ring for, anyway ? Pay up a gambling debt ?”

You noticed how tensed Ominis’ body was against you, his hand ready to grab his wand to defend himself against his brother. You saw a sadistic smile appear on Marvolo’s lips and sure enough, he pointed his wand at both of you, Ominis pulling his out as soon as he heard the familiar noise.

“I won’t let you steal it from my wife.” Ominis said, determined.

“And I won’t let you leave with it so it seems there might be an issue here.” Marvolo retorted.

“It’s alright, you can have it !” You interrupted , pulling the ring off. “But you have to let us go and not tell your parents about it.”

Marvolo seemed amused by your request, maybe because you had gave in more easily than he had expected but you didn’t want to see them duel each other over a ring, as pretty and special as it looked.

“Deal.”

Ominis sighed as you took a few prudent steps towards his brother, placing the golden ring and its black gem in the palm of his hand. He didn’t thank you but smiled at you in a way that caused a cold shiver to run down your spine. He slowly closed his fingers over the ring and walked away, the tension still subsiding in the atmosphere.

“Let’s hurry up.” Ominis finally said, grabbing the suitcases and your hand and guiding you out of the imposing Gaunt Manor. He looked worried, your escape suddenly more rushed than planned.

“Do you not trust Marvolo to keep his word ?” You asked him, trying to follow his large footsteps in direction of the iron gates of the propriety.

“I don’t trust Marvolo for anything.”

The morning was cold and quiet as you followed your husband into the unknown, hopeful to make it far away from his family and yours before anyone was alerted of your unexpected travel plans. You felt nervous about it, but at least there was one thing you knew for sure; as long as you were with him, then you had everything you could possibly need.

“Ominis ?” You called, softly, making his head turn in your direction to show that you had his full attention. “I love you.”

A smile illuminated his face despite his apparent apprehension and his zeal to get as far away from his family’s manor as possible, his face momentarily softened as he squeezed your hand in his, brushing his thumb over the mark that his heirloom had left on your finger.

“And I love you more.”

(( Masterlist ))

Previously in the series;

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