#melina the ballerina

[natrogersfics]

So It Goes... - A Romanogers Oneshot

Artwork by @faith2nyc Read on AO3 Never compromise your client. If there was ever a golden rule in private security that should not be bent, it’s this one. When it comes to the person you’re assigned to serve and protect, you are not to touch. You are not to get too close. And you are definitely not to wonder what her cherry-lacquered lips taste like.

Those are the rules, and the point of rules is to follow them. It’s a value that was instilled in Steve during his time in the Army, and it’s this same value he’s founded his company upon – a company he’s not only proud of, but also one that’s responsible for the livelihoods of dozens of employees. If only for that reason alone, he knows that he must remain steadfast. A professional.

As he enters the elevator, though, every reason he’s just ruminated on becomes that much more difficult to remember. Next to him, Natasha stands silently, looking every bit the sight that she is in a black silk dress and a crisp white coat draped over her shoulders. The doors whizz shut, and as the car begins to ascend to her penthouse, the familiar scent of her lavender perfume fills his senses, and he has to clench both his hands into fists to fight off every urge he has to reach out to her.

Natasha Romanoff is his job. Ensuring she’s safe and that she remains safe is his mission, and because of that, he can’t be thinking of her this way. And, more saliently, he can’t take any of the events this evening personally.

Only problem is, everything about this job has felt personal from the outset. He couldn’t explain it, but from the moment her parents had approached him, seeking his company’s services to protect their daughter from the stalker who had already evaded security once, deftly slipping past them to hold Natasha at knifepoint in the very elevator bank they were just standing in, all he’s ever thought about is never again. Never again would someone get the opportunity to harm her. Not if he had anything to do about it.

Then he met her. Just as he had done for every new client, he had done his research. As one of the children adopted by Alexei and Melina Shostakov, she was one of the heirs to Red Guardian Realty, the largest real estate conglomerate in the country. It didn’t come as a surprise that she had attended the most prestigious schools, graduating top of her class at university and adding accomplished ballerina on top of an already impressive resume. In his experience, when it came to dealing with society’s upper echelon, that merely came with the territory. What did catch his attention, though, was the fact that he couldn’t find much else. Unlike the rest of her siblings whose faces were plastered across the tabloids every week, details about Natasha’s personal life remained elusive. He had seen pictures of her, of course, mostly next to her parents at official events, but none of those quite did her justice – none of them quite capturing how captivating her smile actually is or how her presence could command the attention of an entire room despite her petite frame. And that’s not to mention her eyes, verdant as the forest in the Summer and bright as day. He wishes he could say it was something as rudimentary as instant attraction, but even that didn’t feel encompassing enough to describe the need he felt to protect her the second his eyes met hers.

And it’s what he’s done for the last three hundred and eighty-nine days since. For more than a year, he’s been by her side, getting to know her. Keeping her out of harm’s way. Uncovering the various layers of Natasha Romanoff – the woman, who despite growing up in extreme privilege and largesse, has never treated anyone as anything but her equal. Who would go out of her way in a heartbeat to take care of those she cared about.

The more he got to know her, the more personal his mission became. And as much as he hates to admit it, she’s become more than just his job. At the very least, he had come to see her as a friend. A confidant. He convinces himself that that’s why the events of tonight have felt so personal, the ire from what he had seen unfold slowly but surely clawing its way under his skin. That’s the thing about being by Natasha’s side as often as he is. It’s like getting a front row seat to everything that happens to her. Sometimes it’s as joyous as the children at the orphanage she frequents running into her arms the second she drops by for a visit. Other times, like tonight, it’s watching the unfair way she’s treated, and hearing the vile things spewed her way.

His thoughts are interrupted by a touch as light as a feather. He stills, looking forward at the reflection on the brushed metals doors to see that Natasha’s stepped closer to him, her fingers working to unclench his fist.

“Natasha,” he whispers, but whether it’s in warning or relief, he’s unsure. Luckily, he doesn’t have to linger on the question for too long as the elevator dings, signaling their arrival on her floor. He gestures to the doors as they slide open. “After you.”

This isn’t her. The thought rushes through Natasha as she leads Steve down the hall and to her suite. If there is one thing she didn’t do, it’s get involved with the people on her payroll. And that’s what Steve Rogers is – a person paid to keep her safe.

If only that were the whole truth.

In reality, he’s also the person she’s spent the most time with in the last year, his ever looming presence giving her the peace of mind she’s had to go without for longer than she cares to admit. Gone were the days of her looking over her shoulder, of her stomach feeling unsettled over the idea that there were unwanted eyes on her. Not that the scrutiny ever went away, of course. For as long as she can recall, that’s been part of her life. The unintended consequence of her privilege. Now, though, she could rest easy knowing that she also had Steve’s eyes, his sharp, watchful gaze looking out for her.

But it’s not only Steve’s presence that’s allowed her to revel in safety. She was still reeling from her brush with her stalker when her parents had hired Steve, and even with him shadowing her, she knew that if she was ever going to live without fear ever again, she needed to learn to defend herself. To never feel the helplessness she felt that night as that mad man pressed a blade to her skin. Her parents were less than thrilled with the idea (let Steve do his job, her mother had insisted), but much to her surprise, Steve was very much all in. And so began their weekly ritual. Every Wednesday after work, Steve would train her to fight, teaching her all the ways she could protect herself.

If she had to think of the moment she felt her relationship with Steve begin to shift, it was here. Maybe it was the late hour or the exhaustion from the day, but she found that Steve was more willing to let his guard down after those sessions. It’s as they were sitting on the mats, trying to catch their breath between sets at the gym, that she learned all the details about him that she’s grown to admire, like how big an influence his father was in his choice to join the Army. How much he missed his mom. What a little shit he could be with a quip.

Before she really knew it, Steve had become more than just her bodyguard. He had become her sounding board, and she trusted him implicitly – which was more than she could say about some people she called family.

Families were complicated, but hers was a little more so. Their parents had loved them fiercely, of that there was no doubt. But she and her siblings were all cut from different cloths, and after that fateful car crash that had suddenly taken their parents, the very glue that held them together, that couldn’t be more apparent. Those differences were on full display tonight at the first board meeting since their parents’ passing. Weeks of anticipation had ended with the board announcing that they had selected her to be the next CEO, her father’s successor. Her sisters were practically apathetic – Yelena shrugged, and while Antonia rolled her eyes, she said nothing more. Her brothers, though, were incandescent. Helmut had branded her a manipulative snake. But it was John who had the most to say, all but accusing her of sleeping her way into the position. Not that she was the least bit surprised. Of all her siblings, their relationship had always had the most friction. They had been adopted practically at the same time, at the same age, and knowingly or not, were pitted against each other for the same things. So when he had the audacity to level such accusations at her tonight, it hadn’t come as a shock.

What did come as a shock was Steve’s reaction. He was standing by the door of the conference room, but from her periphery, she caught the way his entire demeanor went rigid the second her brothers had voiced their outrage. On the car ride back to her building, he remained silent, only speaking into his ear piece to alert the rest of his team of their impending arrival. Otherwise, he gazed out the windshield pensively, his jaw set. The tension that had found its way to his shoulders had never subsided either, and she’s certain if she looked back at him now, she could still find it in his stance.

She couldn’t lie. The idea of this man, who she had come to know as the very epitome of composure and level-headedness, getting incensed on her behalf… it did things to her. While she prided herself in being a consummate professional, with Steve, she found that to be an arduous task. As anyone with a pulse and a pair of eyes could deduce, with his broad shoulders, strong arms, and blue eyes so intense it made you feel as though you were being swallowed whole by the ocean, Steve Rogers was a specimen. Couple that with the fact that she has never felt safer in someone’s presence than when she’s around his, and well. It’s no wonder that this man has been the star of her filthiest dreams for months.

As they near her door, she reaches for her keys in her coat pocket, letting her mind wander back to Steve’s reaction to her touch in the elevator mere moments ago. She bites her lip as she recalls the way he had said her name, as though he was at odds with himself, trying to keep himself together. She wonders how quick he would be to keep his composure if he knew every which way she has thought of his lips on hers, of his hands on her body, and his weight holding her down.

Lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t realize that her keys have slipped from her grasp until she sees a flash of movement as Steve reaches out in front of her, catching them in his palm. Not that she’s surprised. His eyes are never not on her, watching her, and though she knows he’s just doing his job, secretly, she savors it. When she finally looks up at him, the concern that’s been pooling in his eyes all night has somehow intensified, and she finds herself holding in a breath at their sudden proximity. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says, but the tightness in his expression tells her he doesn’t quite believe her. She mumbles a thanks as she takes her keys back from him, and as they make it to her door, she waits. If all the nights he’s walked her to this very spot were anything to go by, this is where he leaves her. But as she pushes the key into the lock, he remains rooted in place, and a rush of excitement fills her chest as she opens the door to her suite.

He should turn around now. The idea gnaws away at him even as he nods at Bucky at the opposite end of the hall, officially passing the night shift onto his colleague. But even so, like a moth to a flame, he finds himself following Natasha inside.

“Thank you,” she says as they cross the threshold and he helps her shrug out of her coat. He nods in acknowledgement, stowing it away. “Can I pour you a drink?”

He looks to see that she’s made her way to the living room, glancing at him from over her shoulder as she stands by the credenza, one hand already on the decanter. “I’m still on the clock.”

“That’s what you always say,” she says cheekily, turning her attention back to the crystal before her. It could end here, he tells himself. He could bid her goodnight, turn around, and make his way back home the way he’s done every night. Instead, he pads forward still. “Besides, I saw James out there. As far as I’m concerned, you’re off duty.”

“Is that an order?” he asks as he comes to stand next to her, eyeing the two tumblers she now has in her hands.

The corner of her lips turns up in a sly grin. “It could be.”

He shakes his head, biting back a groan. “Natasha-”

“Please?”

The way she’s looking at him from underneath the fan of her darkened lashes is just not fair. The spark in her eyes is Goliath, and his self-restraint, what little remains of it anyway, is merely David. He sighs in concession. “One drink.”

“One drink,” she parrots, her expression lighting up in victory as she extends the other drink towards him. It wasn’t a secret to him that she’s fond of winning. What is novel is the effervescent feeling that rushes through him knowing he’s letting her, and it’s one he finds he could dangerously get addicted to. They clink glasses before taking a sip, and he relishes the familiar burn of liquor down his throat. “Besides,” she says a beat later, “if a nearly hundred year old scotch can’t turn that frown upside down, what will?” His lips press into a hard line at that, and he watches the way she tilts her head to the side. “Want to tell me what that’s about?”

He wants to. God knows the words have been hanging on the tip of his tongue the entire night, begging to be said. He so desperately wants to tell her that her brothers are low lives. That she deserves better. That it kills him that he couldn’t say or do anything in her defense because not only does she not need him to fight her battles, but also it’s simply not his place. This isn’t a discussion a bodyguard has with his client, which is why he settles for, “Your brothers are a piece of work.”

She hums in agreement. “You knew that, though.”

He did. Her brothers may have never had the audacity to speak to her the way they did tonight when their parents were still around, but the animosity has always been palpable from their backhanded comments to the outright callousness with which they viewed the situation with her stalker, practically ridiculing Natasha for needing round-the-clock security. The latter makes his blood boil – the idea that they think their sister’s safety is something to trivialize, and this time, he isn’t able to hold back. “I should’ve beat John to a pulp.”

The regret sets in the second the words leave his mouth, and he admonishes himself internally. His lips part to apologize, but before he can, Natasha chuckles. “Believe me, he isn’t worth the bruised knuckles or the assault charge.”

“Maybe I’d like to be the judge of that.”

“Such a man,” she says teasingly, taking another sip of her drink.

For the first time since they entered the conference room this evening, he feels his lips lifting into a little smile. If Natasha could find levity in the situation, shrug it off, surely he could, too. And perhaps it’s the liquid courage giving him the audacity to do so, but before he lets the subject go completely, he finds himself finally asking the one question that’s been eating away at him all night. “Natasha, why didn’t you say anything?”

She’s silent for a while, her eyes studying his face. What she’s searching for, he’s unsure. Nevertheless, he holds her gaze, waiting, because none of the events tonight made sense to him. He’s been with her in countless meetings this year, some of which have bordered on incendiary, and while she’s not one to be prone to an outburst, she also doesn’t turn the other cheek the way she did in front of her family tonight.

Eventually, Natasha shrugs. “Because there’s no point.”

“No point?” he asks. “Natasha, I don’t understand.” He’s overstepping now, he knows, but the words slip from his lips just the same. “They shouldn’t be able to speak about you that way! None of what they said is true. The board chose you because you earned it. You submitted the best proposal to take the company forward, not them! And they have the audacity-”

“What choice do I have, Steve?” Natasha interrupts, and for a moment, he can only stand there, frozen, taken aback by her question. As she stares at him, the playful mood she’s been intent on upholding dissipates, and she sighs. “I know none of what my brothers say or think about me is true, but what choice do I have but to take it?”

His brows furrow in confusion. “Natasha, you’re allowed to defend yourself.”

“I wish that were true,” she says, smiling ruefully. “I want this job because I care about continuing my parents’ legacy. But the board?” The resentment in her tone is clear as day she adds, “all they care about is making it seem like there was a clear succession plan so our stock price doesn’t dip.” Her shoulders lift as she scoffs. “If I react… If I so much as show them that my brothers get under my skin, I’m too emotional. Too soft to run this company. But if I respond in kind… I’m a bitch that’ll run it to the ground out of spite.” She shakes her head. “Much as I’d like to wipe that smug look off John’s face, I have to play the long game.”

“Natasha…” he says, placing his drink down on the credenza. He’s been so lost in his anger tonight that he forgot, momentarily, that the stakes are, and have always been, different for her. It wasn’t fair, but the bar for her has always been higher, the fall from the top always steeper. It’s why she’s careful to keep as much of her private life out of the press. Why she meticulously plans her every move, demanding perfection of herself even as her siblings – her brothers, especially – are given seemingly endless leeway for their transgressions. He steps closer to her, putting a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how exhausting it must be.”

Her eyes go from the hand he has on her arm to his face. “It is,” she says, agreeing to the sentiment without any specifics. Somehow, that pulls even more at his heart strings. Because it’s all of it, all the time, he realizes.

He sighs. “I wish-”

He doesn’t get to finish his thought as she pushes on the tips of her toes, pressing her lips to his. The kiss is soft, sweet, tender. She pulls away a moment too soon, but not soon enough for him not to catch a taste of the heady mix that’s her lipstick, the scotch, and something uniquely Natasha.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha says a beat later when the silence between them lingers. “I thought-”

A growl rips from the back of his throat, and before he can stop himself, his hands come up to cup her face as he pulls her into a searing kiss. The tumbler in hand falls from her grasp, hitting the ground and shattering into a million pieces by their feet, but neither of them pay it any mind as he backs them towards the nearest wall.

“I want you,” he confesses, exhaling deeply as he leans his forehead against hers, “so much I can barely think straight. Barely breathe.”

Her hands wrap around him, pulling him closer. “It’s the same for me.”

“Fuck,” the curse falls unbidden from his lips as he hears her confirm their mutual longing. As absurd as it seems at this moment, he could still put a stop to all this. They’re both toeing the line, but with one step back, he still could pull them away from it. Go back to what they were, what they ought to be. Client and bodyguard. Business associates. Friends. He could tell himself that what they’re doing is wrong, verboten. But as he looks down at her, he finds that he can’t. He doesn’t want to. Because there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that feels wrong about having Natasha Romanoff in his arms. Whatever line there is, he’s sprinting well and truly past it.

“What do you want me to do, Nat?” There’s a part of him that already knows the answer. Even so, he wants – needs – to hear her say it.

Her eyes twinkle, and her response is the gush of wind that sends the house of cards that’s his restraint crumbling. “Kiss me.”

With that, he finds her lips again, kissing her passionately as if one kiss could make up for months and months of not having her. He doesn’t hold back, and based on the way she gasps, her hands finding purchase on his arms, squeezing tightly, he suspects that she doesn’t want him to. It’s when he takes her hands, pinning them above her head with his own as his lips find their way down to her neck that she cries out, voicing her approval when he pushes his pelvis flush against her, letting her feel the effect she has on him.

“Been wanting this for so long,” she says, and when he looks back up at her, her eyes are dazed as she tries to catch her breath.

He lowers one hand to her face, running his thumb over her cheek as he, too, forces air into his lungs. “Yeah?”

She nods, swallowing hard. “Every night when you go home, I keep thinking you’ll come back. Bring me to bed.”

His hands slide down to her waist, digging into the silk of her dress. “Then what do I do, Nat?”

“You take me hard and dirty,” she says without an ounce of hesitation. “So much that every time I move, all I can think about is you.”

He groans her name, stealing the breath right out of her lungs with another bruising kiss. “You’re all I think about when I come home, too.” He trails his lips up her jaw, to the shell of her ear to whisper, “I spread you out on my bed, kiss every inch of your skin until you’re begging me to let you come.” His words elicit a moan from her, and he feels her nails dig into his biceps through the material of his button up. “I’ll take you any way you want me to, Nat. Hard, dirty, rough… All you have to do is tell me.”

She shudders in his hold, and he pulls away just enough to see her expression drunk with unadulterated lust. There’s a mischievous glint in her eye as she contemplates the possibilities. “I don’t want to think. I just want to feel.” She brings her arms up, wrapping it around his neck. “Tell me how I want to be fucked, Steve.”

Months of wanting, months of wondering… They’ve all led to this very moment, and as she looks out into the expanse of the room, illuminated only by the glow of the skyline filtering in from the panel of floor-to-ceiling windows right across, she feels her heart race in anticipation.

“Quite the view you’ve chosen here,” she says, her voice sounding breathier than usual even to her own ears. She wasn’t sure where they were headed when Steve had scooped her up into his arms, and in all honesty, she didn’t quite care. But the second he had crossed the hall into her office, it’s as if a fresh wave of desire shot straight through her veins.

“Hadn’t noticed,” Steve says from where he stands behind her, crowding her against the desk. His hands find the thin straps of her dress, and she can’t help the shiver that runs down her spine when he pushes them off her shoulders.

“Why are we here, Steve?” she finds herself asking, sucking in a breath as he begins to pull on her zipper. As it reaches the end, the garment slinks down her body, the material shimmering in the dark in a pool by her feet. He mutters a curse under his breath, and feeling emboldened, she turns around. The first thing she notices is that he’s shed his suit jacket, draped it on the back of her chair, but she can only glance at it fleetingly because the second she looks at his face, her stomach flutters. His typically bright eyes have gone dark, the hunger evident in them as he takes in the sight of her standing before him in nothing but a lacy black thong and heels. “You know, if you keep staring at me like that, I’m going to start feeling a tad obscene.”

“You don’t stare at a work of art,” he counters. “You admire it.” Heat rushes to her cheeks, and inwardly, she marvels at the irony. Here she is, standing before this man in nearly nothing, and somehow, it’s his words that have her blushing. She bites back a smile, trying to busy herself by stepping out of her heels when she feels his fingers encircle her wrist. There’s a devious glint in his eyes when she looks up. “Leave them on.”

She arches a brow in intrigue, but doesn’t question the request. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

The grin that creeps onto his lips is trouble personified, and she finds herself holding her breath as he steps forward, erasing what little distance was left between them. “You told me to tell you how you want to be fucked,” he says, reaching for her waist and making her gasp as he hoists her up onto her desk as if she weighs nothing. He nudges her knees apart, standing between her legs and whispering down into her ear. “You want it hard, Nat.” She bites her lip, goosebumps prickling her skin as his breath dances across it, and she’s so entranced by his words that she doesn’t even realize he’s pulled on the pin of her bun until it comes loose at the base of her neck, her hair cascading down her back like a crimson waterfall. “You want it so rough you’ll feel me for days.” Her eyes fall shut when he leans down to press a kiss to her pulse, and as his other hand trails up, cupping her breast and making her nipple pebble underneath his ministrations, she can only throw her head back. “And I think you might even want it to hurt a little.”

He tugs on her nipple, making her gasp, and instantly, she feels herself grow wetter between her legs. “God, yes.”

“Is that what you want?”

She leans further into his touch. “That’s exactly what I want.”

He smiles against her skin. “And that’s what you’ll get,” he promises. “But first, I think you want me to spread you out on this desk…” He pulls away enough to look at her, tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear with his free hand. The gesture is so tender, the complete and polar opposite of what he’s promising to do to her right now, that it makes her head spin. “Eat you out right where you spend your days telling people what to do, making all those important decisions… Tease you with my mouth until you’re out of your mind.” She sucks in a gasp. “How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” she manages to heave out. “That sounds perfect.”

“Then lean back, Nat.”

She does as commanded, moving her palms behind her and watching him take a step back, his eyes never once breaking contact with hers while unbuttons the cuffs on his shirt. As he rolls his sleeves up his forearms, it occurs to her that while she’s all but laid out bare before him, he’s still fully dressed. But even with this imbalance, something about the way his licentious gaze trails up her body, taking her in, makes her feel desired in a way she’s never felt before.

It’s when he slides a hand down the flat of her belly, reaching the lace of her thong and ripping the delicate material away with one flick of his wrist that she feels her sex pulse. “Oh, God.”

“Do you know what it does to me?” he asks as he settles down on her chair. “Knowing that I’ve seen you at this desk, taking all those meetings… Making all those calls.” He hikes her legs up, setting her heels at the edge of her desk and licking his lips at the sight of her arousal glistening between her thighs. “In these shoes.” When he dusts a kiss just above where the strap rests on her ankle, the soft hair of his beard brushing against her skin, she can only whimper knowing his mouth is so close yet still so far from where she’s aching to feel him. “And now here you are, so wet for me…” He brushes a finger teasingly at her entrance, her vision blurring when she hears him groan. “Aching to be touched.”

There’s a part of her that wishes he would tell her. Tell her every single detail of the effect she has on him, to know that he’s as desperate for her touch as she is for his. But then he’s pushing in, her body taking him without any resistance. “Steve,” she whines, her gaze falling between her legs, watching every movement of his hand. For a moment, it’s as though she can’t breathe, too lost in her own pleasure and too mesmerized by seeing everything as it happens to her. Her hips cant upwards when he adds another finger. “Oh.”

He looks up at her, and his voice is tight as he speaks, as though he’s feeling just as inebriated with desire as she is right now. “Good, baby?”

When she mewls out another yes, he dips his head between her legs, his lips grazing her heat, and with his hands and mouth working her in tandem, she falls back on the desk, her arms no longer able to hold her up. Her hands fly to his hair, pulling, needing something, anything, to keep her from drowning in this ecstasy. She’s so turned on beyond words, that when he licks a broad stripe up her center, all she can do is cry out his name. Of all the nights she had fantasized about this, none of them could hold a candle to the pleasure she feels right now. The way he teases her, licking tantalizingly at her folds and sucking at her bundle of nerves until she’s just there, only to pull away before she crests… It’s deliriously good, a high she’s fast becoming hooked on.

“You look so good like this, Nat,” Steve says, easing his mouth off her to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh even as he continues to work her with his fingers. “Look at you, just begging to fall apart.”

“Steve,” she begins to say, only for her words to be replaced by a moan when he nips at the flesh of her inner thigh, the little sting of pain making her back bow off the mahogany. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Come for me, Nat,” he says, bringing his mouth back to her center, his lips finding her bundle of nerves. She arches against his face, seeking out more contact, more everything, and as white-hot pleasure permeates throughout her every nerve ending, she finds exactly what she’s been craving. All of her worries, her laundry list of things to do… they all fade into nothing, and all she can think about is the heat unfurling low in her stomach, building. Rising.

“No!” She whimpers when Steve pulls his fingers out, tears nearly stinging her eyes as her walls flutter around nothing. Vaguely, she’s aware of him shushing her gently, of his hand moving lower, and then even lower still. “Oh, my God,” she gasps when she feels his finger at her other entrance, teasing. She tenses – unsure of how far he’ll take this, how far she’ll let him. But before she can give it more thought, her body answers for her, a long, needy moan escaping from her lips as his tongue flicks at her clit and his finger presses in. And then her body is trembling, her orgasm washing over her like waves crashing violently to shore.

She’s not sure how long she revels in bliss. Seconds, maybe, but with the intensity of the aftershocks, it feels like an eternity. It takes her a moment, but eventually, she recognizes the telltale sound of a zipper being pulled. Her eyes flutter open, and with what strength she still has, she sits up just as Steve brings a hand to his length, stroking.

Her mouth falls open, and despite the earth-shattering climax he’s just wringed out of her, she feels her nipples already tightening at the sight before her. She’s not entirely certain how her body could still crave more, but as she watches Steve’s hand shuttle up and down his hardness, his gaze trained on her and only her, it does. The scene playing out before her feels like a cut straight out of her dirtiest fantasy, and she couldn’t look away if she tried.

It’s when Steve’s hand slows at the head, his thumb gathering the bead of liquid, that their eyes meet. He’s always been adept at anticipating her needs, and when it comes to her base desires, it seems it’s no different. He brings his thumb to her mouth, slowly sliding his arousal over her lip, and as the salty taste of him hits her tongue, she moans, taking his hand between both of hers and drawing him all the way in.

“Christ, Nat,” Steve says, groaning when she nips at the skin of his thumb only to soothe it over with her tongue, sucking. She’s lost count of the number of nights she’s spent wondering what he tastes like, and now that she knows, she's ravenous with how much she wants more. With a pained groan, Steve pulls his hand away, his lips finding hers before she can so much as blink. The kiss is intoxicating – tasting of her, of him, of them. By the time they separate, she’s practically writhing, the heat between her legs once again unbearable. “Going to bend you over this desk now.”

With a smile, she slides off, stands, and turns. Behind her, she can hear the tearing of foil as he pulls out a condom and rolls it on, and then his hand is between her shoulder blades, pushing her down. She rests her cheek against the wood, and as he presses against her entrance, she cries out in need. In need of the rightness of this very moment. The covetousness. The tabooness of them, together, as Steve widens her stance, spreads her open, and sinks right into her in a single thrust. Her name falls from his lips, his tone gravelly. Intoxicated. She feels it just the same, her nails scratching at the wood as he bottoms out.

Steve curls his body over hers, and as he sets a rhythm with his hips that’s as delectable as it is punishing, she lets her eyes fall shut, the glow of Manhattan below them disappearing as she loses herself in the sensation. The sensation of finally having the man she’s been fantasizing over, of him buried deep inside of her, of him letting her indulge in her wildest desires right in her office, not a single soul knowing what they’re up to.

His lips pepper every inch of her skin that he can find, every kiss like another one of their dirty little secrets that she’ll keep. He’s not the least bit gentle, and when he slides his hands around her, cupping her breasts, she yelps when he pinches at her nipples.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says, because even when he’s doing exactly as she’s asked, she knows him, knows he could never live with himself if he hurt her.

“It’s not,” she assures him, letting out another whimper when he repeats the motion and she basks in the sharp tingle that follows. “It’s so good. So fucking good.”

Her moans fall freely now, if not a little muffled by the desk, but she couldn't care less. As she tethers between pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain, the seesaw of sensations is like gasoline slowly but surely dripping into the fire of her lust.

“What do you need, Nat?” Steve asks not a moment too soon, sensing her longing before she does in that uncanny way only he can.

She wishes she knew. She can feel the pleasure coiling at her spine, threatening to burst over her, and yet it’s as though she’s searching for that little extra spark to set her ablaze – a spark that she hadn’t even known she wanted, much less needed, until Steve had shown her tonight. As the frustration of tethering on the edge begins to set in, she whimpers. “Steve,” she breathes out, moaning at a particularly delicious thrust of his hips. “More.”

In her haze, she doesn’t quite catch what Steve murmurs in response, feeling only the kiss he presses to her cheek as his hands let go of her breasts, traveling down her sides, until they’re past her waist.

“Ah!” she cries out when his palm collides with her backside, the sound reverberating across the room. The burn dissolves into pleasure, and she keens. “Again,” she says, hearing Steve growl in response, hips driving deeper into her as he raises his palm and swats her once more. “Oh, just like that.”

He obliges her request, once, twice. And then another time, until soon, all the sensations brew into one outrageous storm, and as Steve reaches around her and down to where they’re joined, circling her bundle of nerves, it breaks. With a litany of incoherent sounds falling from her mouth, she falls apart, taking Steve right down the edge with her.

Just once. That’s what he had told himself when he decided to throw caution to the wind and kiss Natasha senseless. When he slipped that dress off her body, hoisted her up on that desk. One time to get her out of his system. One time to make him stop wondering.

But now that he knows what it’s like to have her in his arms, knows what she sounds like just as she’s on the brink of falling apart, he doesn’t think he can ever get enough.

He should leave, put as much distance between him and the temptation that is Natasha Romanoff. But as he pulls his pants up and disposes of the condom, he finds that he can’t just yet. “Come on, gorgeous,” he says as he lifts her into his arms, mindful of her pinkened skin. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

A sated sigh slips from her lips as she settles against his chest. He pads out of her office, making his way to the other side of her suite enroute to her bedroom and right into the ensuite bathroom. When he reaches the large soaking tub, he sets her on the ledge, watching as she winces. He frowns. “I told you to tell me if it was too much.”

“It wasn’t,” she says firmly as he turns on the tap, adjusting the temperature. She leans forward, running her hand under the running water. A smile breaks out on her face. “Just how I like it.”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to lie,” she says, yawning. “I think I might just doze off.”

“I’ll turn this off,” he says, already reaching to shut the water. “The last thing we want is for you to drown in your own tub.”

“No!” she says, her lower lip jutting out in a pout, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “You know I can’t turn down a good bubble bath.”

“That I also know,” he says softly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He shouldn’t feel such joy at knowing these things about her. In fact, he shouldn’t even have all these little details in his brain, like the fact that she loves daisies and that her guilty pleasure is watermelon-flavored Sour Patch Kids, so much so that she always keeps an emergency stash of them in the bottom drawer of her desk. Or the fact that she got her love of candy from her mom, who would always have a pack in her bag ready for them to share. It’s also why she makes sure to carry some with her when she goes to visit the kids, sneaking them treats even though she knows the staff at the orphanage frowns upon the sugary delights.

But that was Natasha. Ever caring, ever kind-hearted. Always trying to do good with the privilege bestowed upon her.

There isn’t a goddamn thing that he doesn’t like about this woman, he realizes. Mind, soul, and now body – it attracts him all.

Which is why he shouldn’t be privy to all these things about her. None of it has to do with him doing his job. With keeping her safe.

He has to leave.

“Steve.” Natasha’s voice breaks him out of his reverie, and when he looks at her, he finds her brows furrowed in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“All good,” he assures her. He wishes he could give her more than a few words, but he doesn’t trust himself not to crack open now, to confess to her that the absolute last thing he wants to do is leave.

“Well, then…” she begins, a sheepish expression suddenly painting her features. “Do you mind stepping out for a bit while I use the little girl’s room?” Despite his thoughts being at war, he finds that he can’t help but chuckle at her request. She gasps, shoving his arm even as she tries desperately not to crack a smile. “Don’t laugh! Everyone pees.”

“Really? I never knew,” he quips, prompting her to roll her eyes.

“You just fucked me into oblivion,” she adds. “Peeing is not optional.”

He arches a brow at her. “You’ll say things like that, but God forbid I watch you pee?”

“A little mystery never killed anybody.”

He shakes his head. “I can just go.”

“No,” she says, reaching out to catch his arm again. “I only need a minute.” She looks up at him, eyes wide. “Come back, please.”

He’s not sure if it’s the please she added at the end of her request or the vulnerability in her eyes as she said it, but either way, it renders any thoughts he had of walking out of her front door right now moot. With a nod, he makes his way out of her bathroom, leaving the door just ajar.

As he waits, he paces her bedroom, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He stops by her windowsill, looking out into the glimmering city. Below, he finds the crowds still bustling, going about their night, the image only serving to highlight his current solitude. Here he is, standing atop one of the tallest skyscrapers in town, alone in the bedroom of the woman he’s just slept with. A woman who also happens to be his client, his assignment. A woman he had no business touching, much less having.

He leans his forehead against the glass, sighing. It’s when he finds himself at a crossroads like this that he truly missed his mom the most. What he would give to be able to pick up the phone and give her a ring again. But even though that’s no longer a possibility, he still knows what she would tell him – the only answer she deemed right and universal to every predicament.

When in doubt, do the right thing.

Guilt washes over him from the top of his head down to his toes. If there’s one thing that’s crystallized for him tonight, it’s that being with Natasha impaired his judgment, and that’s just not something he could afford, given his job. The very same job that not only requires him to make decisions on the fly, but that also demands that he make the right ones. Mistakes didn’t come cheap in his field. At best, they led to injury. At worst, they were fatal. The last thought brings a chill down his spine, and he reminds himself of the file he has in his office, the very same file Alexei had brought to him way back when, filled with stolen pictures of Natasha that the maniac had coveted, and letters that he had written to her. The endless reports that detailed every which way that poor excuse of a human being used to subvert security. He reminds himself that if not for that one detective who had gotten there in time, he may never have gotten the chance to meet Natasha.

He implores himself to remember all of that. To sear into his memory what was at stake if he chooses to be selfish right now, and what the consequences could be. With that, he moves away from the window, rapping softly on the frame of the open door.

“All clear!”

Given the clearance, he walks in, and the sight that greets him has him cursing under his breath for the umpteenth time this evening. In the tub, Natasha sits surrounded by bubbles, her hair piled high up in a bun.

“Hi,” she says, her tone soft and her face all but glowing. She pats the space he had set her down on not long ago. “Come sit.” His only response is to nod, making his way over to her to perch on the marble ledge. “We should talk.”

“We should,” he says, resisting the urge to push the strands of hair that have fallen loose from her bun away from her face.

“I can tell you’re wound up, Steve,” she says.

His lips quirk up slightly. “Isn’t that what I usually tell you?”

She cracks a smile, but it lasts but a second as she reaches for his hand. “You regret this.”

“What? Natasha, no,” he says, shaking his head. “Never. Don’t you ever think that.”

She bites her lip. “Really?”

“Of course,” he says without skipping a beat, his hand reaching to cup her face. “Being with you was a dream come true.”

She sighs, relief washing over her face as she leans into his touch. “It was a dream come true for me, too.”

“It was incredible,” he adds, swallowing the tightness that’s suddenly formed in his throat. “I could never regret it.” He sighs, dreading his next words. But he has to say them. Has to be honest. “But, Nat, it can’t happen again.” The sadness that fills her eyes is a dagger straight to his heart, but he soldiers on. Do the right thing, he reminds himself. “My head isn’t clear when I’m with you, and I need it to be in order to do my job. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“You would never let anything happen to me.”

The way she says it, with so much trust and certainty, floors him. And it’s this, the amount of faith she has in him and in his ability to keep her out of harm’s way, that gives him the strength to remain steadfast. “And it’s going to stay that way,” he promises. “You haven’t a clue what it would do to me if something happened to you.”

“Tell me,” she says, eyes imploring.

He shakes his head, his mind refusing to entertain the possibility. “It’s not going to happen.”

She reaches for the hand he has on her face, clasping it between her own. “Having you by my side this last year… I’ve never felt safer.”

“Good,” he says, allowing his lips to pull up in a little smile. “I’m glad.”

Easily, if not a little too easily, they slip into conversation as if it’s the end of just another night for them at the gym. She talks about the plans she’s made for the upcoming bachelor party of her best friend, and they both laugh at how ridiculous some of the decorations she’s ordered are going to turn out. In turn, he gives her his assessment of what he thinks is blooming between the doorman and the receptionist in her building.

“You suspected there was something going on between those two and you’re only telling me now?” she says, narrowing her eyes at him. “You know I’ve been trying to play matchmaker for weeks!”

“I needed to make sure my intel was- hey!” he exclaims, barely dodging the water she splashes his way. As she sticks her tongue out at him, he glares at her witheringly.

“Serves you right for withholding information,” she says, only to gasp when he suddenly retaliates. “Rogers!”

The image of her cheek and shoulder marred by bubbles causes him to burst out in laughter. “I’m sorry!” he says, and despite her best effort, she too begins laughing. “Here, let me help you.”

“You better,” she mutters, and he rolls his lips to prevent another laugh from slipping.

He reaches forward, gingerly wiping away the suds from her cheek with the back of his hand, doing the same with the ones on her shoulder. “Your skin is so soft.”

“It’s all the bath oils,” she says, taking his hand. “You should try them sometime.” She scoops some water into her palm to pour it over his, massaging his fingers. “Or, better yet… you could come join me.”

As she looks at him, she bites her lip, and he can only groan. “You, Natasha Romanoff, are trouble.” Her only response is to shrug, and it takes every bit of restraint he has left in his body to not lean in and kiss that little smirk off her lips. Focus. “That… person. He could have easily harmed you, and all he got was a measly six months of jail time.”

“And he hasn’t sniffed this place since,” she points out. “You’re exceptional at your job, Steve. As is your team. I haven’t even gotten so much as a suspicious letter.”

“And that’s how it’s going to remain,” he says, adamant.

She huffs out a breath that’s long and winded. “You’re really not going to touch me again, are you?”

He shakes his head no, smiling sadly as his response elicits another disappointed sigh from her. He lifts their joined hands, bringing it up to press a kiss to the back of hers. “But know, in my dreams, I have you every night.” She throws her head back, groaning, and he chuckles. “I should go.”

“Yeah,” she says, tilting her head playfully to the side. “You keep saying that.”

He grins. “Can I get you a towel?”

“Please.”

He stands to retrieve a towel from the rack, grabbing the fluffiest one, and when he returns to her, he finds that smile playing on her lips again. “What?”

“Well, if you’re going to leave, I guess you better turn around.”

It shouldn’t be that hard to do. But when all he wants is to wrap this towel around her, pull her in, and carry her to bed, the effort feels Herculean. He chuckles, setting the cloth down by the ledge before making his way out. “Goodnight, Natasha.”

“Goodnight, Steve,” she says, and though he couldn’t see her face, the amusement in her tone is all the confirmation he needs to know that she hasn’t wiped that smirk off her face. “See you tomorrow.”

Read Part 2: Blinding Lights here

[theearthwassoup]

2. 12. 19. from fluff for natasha x reader :)

snow globe memories

a/n: hi! Thank you so much for this request, i hope i did it justice!!

word count: 1.6k

warning(s): none, pure fluff | mentions of the red room | does this make sense chronologically? probably not

2: “you remembered” 12: “I can’t believe you did that for me” 19: “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids”

Natasha leaned back and studied her workmanship, brushing her hands against her pants in an attempt to remove the sawdust. Sweat stuck to her skin, as she had refused to move her project out of the garage, where heat seemed to accumulate quickly. On her heels, Natasha tapped the unused paintbrush against her lips, contemplating what she should do next. As a memory sparked in her mind, a soft smile grew on her lips.

“Someday, Nat, my walls are going to be full of snow globes,” you told your friend, laying on the snow as you looked at the clouds. Natasha laughed, rolling over on her side, propping her head up on her hand.

“You know, I don’t know why you like those things, they’re so breakable!”

You gasped at your best friend’s words, sitting up to look at her incredulously. Your eyes were wide and your cheeks flushed from the cold. You waved her hands in the air as you tried to tell your friend the appeal of snow globes.

“They’re mini worlds! Anything can be in a snow globe! Empire State buildings, ballerinas, Santa Clause, princesses, you name it! They transport you to worlds where everything it perfect and organized.”

Natasha laughed, laying back in the snow, you following her actions as well.

“I guess I can understand that, Y/N.”

The night finished quickly, with Natasha being called into her home by her mother, Melina’s voice urgent and almost panicked. You walked down the street to your home, a skip in your step as you cradled your new snow globe against your chest, watching as the fake snow fell down around the tiny snowman. You stepped inside, prepared to call out to your parents, when a loud crash rang through the air. A man dressed in military gear stepped out of your living room, a gun pointed at you. The snow globe dropped to the floor, glass shattering as you ran past the unfamiliar man, your chest heaving as you looked for your parents, the silence of your home scaring you. Your house started to shake as you ran into your room, finding shelter in between your shelves lined with precious memories. You let out a shriek as the shaking got worse, bringing your hands over your head as glass and water surrounded you. 

Natasha shook her head, removing the memories from her mind. That night was the last time you had a semblance of a childhood and now, Natasha wanted to bring back the memories before the Red Room interfered in your lives. Standing up, Natasha walked over to the garage shelf, picking up light grey and blue paint cans. Returning back to her project, Natasha started humming, sunlight dimming on the horizon as dusk made an appearance. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

You hadn’t seen your friend in days, her excuse being that she had been caught up in a project. You had asked Fury about any missions you could be privy to involving Natasha but his confused look answered your question. Sitting on your couch, you sighed as your cold hands wrapped around your mug, the hot tea warming your bones. It wasn’t a particularly cold day but you still felt the chill against your skin, allowing you to snuggle up against soft blanket wrapped around you. While you enjoyed the peacefulness of the silence, you yearned for the sound of Natasha cursing in Russian as she attempted to cook, always giving up with a huff before making a peanut butter sandwich. She practically lived in your home, having her own key and blanket, mug and preferred silverware. It just didn’t feel like a home without Natasha and that warm feeling that rose in your chest when you thought of her was an indicator why. Relaxing, you almost didn’t hear your phone ringing but soon the sound of Black Widow by Iggy Azalea burst you out of your mediation like stance. You quickly answered the call, embarrassingly desperate to hear your friend’s voice.

“Hey Nat!” You sounded breathless and wanted to scold yourself.

Stop sounding so lovestruck, Y/N!

“Y/N, hey, could stop by Clint’s farm for a bit?”

You paused, questioning why Nat would be at Clint’s. Sure they were best friends but when you had asked the archer is he had heard from the redhead, he had denied it. With a little bit of weight on your heart, you agreed to meet Nat at the farm, dragging yourself off of the couch, downing your tea in one gulp, scalding your tongue. You slipped on a pair of shoes, adjusting your hair and clothes trying to look presentable.

As you drove to Clint’s home, the long drive making you sleepy, thousands of thoughts crossed your mind, mostly wondering why Natasha sounded so urgent over the phone. You pulled into the dusty road of their home and smiled when you saw Natasha waiting for you, hands behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels. Her clothes were splattered with long dried paint and her hair was falling out of its brain. Her disheveled appearance made you want to laugh while being confused at the same time.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, getting out of your car, eyes narrowing once you realized your best friend was hiding something behind her back. Natasha noticed that you noticed and a small smile formed on her lips. When she spoke, she sounded almost…nervous?

“I, uh, have something to show you,” she cleared her throat, bringing what she was hiding behind her back in front of her, “but first, i want to give you this.”

You gasped at the delicate ornament in Natasha’s hand. The snow globe had a silver base with a simple snowman inside, a replica of the one you lost on that dreadful night. You gently took it from Natasha’s hands, tracing the ornate designs on the base of the globe. When you looked up, Natasha was surprised to see little tears in your eyes.

“You remembered.” You whispered out in wonder, that one conversation from years ago blossoming in your mind. You didn’t think she would remember something so small, so mundane in the grand scheme of things. Natasha smiled and shrugged sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck. She had a bright blush spanning on her face down her neck. Natasha gestured for you to follow her and so you did, careful of your steps as you admired your gift. You hadn’t restarted your collection since that night. Natasha led to to Clint’s garage, separated from the house. When you walked inside, you looked around in confusion. Nothing except hay, a tractor, and some miscellaneous tools Tony had left from when he last worked on said tractor, stood in the dark room.

“Nat, what-”

Soft, ambient lights flickered to life, illuminating the space. You gasped softly when you saw what Natasha was standing next to. Sitting on a table was a shelf, three rows full of snow globes of many sizes and appearances. You noticed the color of the shelf matched the paint splotches on Natasha’s clothes and it was your turn to blush. You trailed your finger on the shelves, examining each and every globe.

“You really liked them when we were younger so I thought…” Natasha trailed off and you looked up at her, admiration shining in your eyes.

“I built the shelves and painted them, then I raided every store I could find that had snow globes. I swear half the cashiers in this town think I’m crazy.” She chuckled nervously at your intense stare, not noticing that you had picked up a specific snow globe that caught your eye.

“I can’t believe you did that for me.” You whispered as you came to stand in front of her, heart beating rapidly in your chest as she seemed to loose all nervousness as she looked into your eyes. Her confident stance was broken slightly when you raised the snow globe you had taken off the shelf so she could see it. Her eyes widening made you smile a bit, her cute expression blossoming warmth in your chest. Slowly, you brought your eyes down to the inscription on the base of the globe, the Russian flowing off your tongue smoothly, making Natasha’s deer in headlights expression worse. She never knew you were taught Russian.

“dlya moyey lyubvi” you looked back up at her, hope shining in your eyes as you translated the words into Russian, “for my love.”

Natasha licked her lips, flustered as you looked into her eyes inquisitively.

“Did you know it said that?” You asked her with a soft voice, setting the globe down back on the shelf. Natasha nodded, too scared to speak. She wasn’t one to talk about feelings but when she bought the globe, Natasha saw it as a way of confessing to you without you realizing. You noticed her nervous expression and brought your hands up to cup her face, a giant smile taking over your expression as your body hummed with joy.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

Your words broke Natasha frozen stance, melting into your hands as her hands on your waist pulled you close to her. With a relieved laugh, Natasha buried her face into your neck, squeezing you tightly. She leaned back and captured your lips with her own, the softness of the kiss sending happy tingles down your spine. After a few moments of just basking in the glow of your confessions, you leaned back and cocked your head to the side.

“How are we getting this back home?”

Natasha shrugged, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you walked out of the barn.

“Clint owes me a favor.”

a/n: i hope this made sense lol. Thank you for reading!! I hope i did alright

[slavicshadow]

« alicia vikander, 32, she/her, mcu (& some 616) » ∙∙ loading case file for natalia “natasha” romanova. known aliases, if any: black widow. current location: new york, new york. current occupation: shield agent. she has been known to be disciplined and guarded, so proceed with caution. their current alliance: avengers. (claire, she/her)

(tw: death, murder, red room etc etc)

Character Basics

Character’s full name: Natalia “Natasha” Alianovna Romanova (anglicized: Natasha Romanoff)

Nicknames: Nat, Romanoff (prefers the anglicized version of her name to distance herself from her background)

Meaning of name: (born on) Christmas Day/birthday (of the Lord)

Birth date: November 22, 1990

Age: 32

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Superpower: advanced espionage training, master martial artist, master assassin, etc; artificially enhanced physiology (modified super soldier serum) -- enhanced strength/speed/reflexes/healing/longevity

Alias: Black Widow (natalie rushman; slavic shadow; red death; laura mathers; nadine roman)

Nationality / Species: Russian / human

Languages Spoken: Russian (first language), English, Latin, French, Spanish, Mandarin, German, Japanese, among others

Orientation: Pansexual

Pronouns: she/her

Physical appearance

Height: 5′7″

Body build: athletic

Eye color: green

Hair type and color: red (maybe natural, maybe dyed, genuinely no one knows), usually worn shoulder length and straight

Glasses or contacts: n/a

Face claim: Alicia Vikander

Distinguishing marks: assorted combat scars, healed bullet wounds on abdomen, birthmarks on right cheek and left side of nose

Tattoos: none

Voice / Accent: American; she trained the Russian out of her voice a long time ago, but can still put on a flawless accent when required (she can do most accents when required, tbh)

Clothing style: dark, lots of leather, lots of black tank tops, lots of heavy boots--she favors discretion and movement above all else

Personality

Good personality traits: resourceful, practical, disciplined, brave

Bad personality traits: guarded, secretive, combative, isolated

Personality Type: ISTP

Archetype: The Warrior, the Orphan

Goals/desires: finding an identity of her own. making a life as a real person.

Fears: never escaping the Red Room’s training; never being seen as more than a piece of weaponry.

Enneagram: type 6, the loyalist

Temperament: choleric

Moral Alignment: true neutral

Element: wood

Past

Hometown: Volgograd, USSR (now Russia)

Childhood: Her past is a bit of a mystery (even, sometimes, to Natasha herself), but the basic facts are these: A fire destroyed her family home when she was very very young, and her dying mother’s final act was to throw her to a passing soldier, Ivan Petrovitch. Ivan led Natasha to be raised in the Black Widow Ops program, a covert KGB operation training little girls to be master spies, killing machines. Fun stuff.

Dream job: ballerina

Education: extensive espionage training, equivalent of college-level education (claims to have a college degree; logistics of this unclear)

Family

mother: unnamed, deceased

father: unknown, presumed deceased

foster father: ivan petrovitch

foster mother: melina vostokoff

foster sister: yelena belova

Present

Current location: Manhattan, New York

Currently living with: n/a

Pets: Liho, a black cat

Occupation: SHIELD agent

Religion: atheist

Political Affiliation: it’s so complicated

Favorites:

Weather: an early spring day, the frost of winter just beginning to clear

Color: red

Music: classical

Movies: old action movies, especially Bond films. will not tell anyone she’s enjoyed a few romcoms in her day.

Sport: baseball

Beverage: red wine. will happily drink vodka or a beer, too.

Food: peanut butter & jelly

Animal: cats

Short Bio

raised in the shadowy red room in russia, natasha romanoff was bred to be a weapon. she became the black widow, the best assassin they had, an international fairy tale. a series of missions led her to shield, led her to the avengers, led her to questioning her allegiances and identity (if she had ever had either at all). escaping the grasp of the kgb, she has begun to forge a new life for herself, a real one this time. just don’t call her a hero.

FULL BIO

[the-blackest-spider]

🙋 + Red Room or Yelena headcanons

Send "🙋" + any headcanons you want to know about my muse.

Accepting | Open

Most of my headcanons for both are mostly comic based, but since the Black Widow movie came out, I've had to as I've done in the past with a lot of MCU canon, adapt things to fit my muse.

Ironically, one of my muse's biggest fears was the Red Room still existing or coming back, which in one of her verses became a situation due to a very well written Red Room OC that my Nat took under her wing, so bless the MCU for making that a canon thing. XD In conjunction with that fear, she also worried they'd try to take her back, which again got touched on in the BW movie.

Anyways, so these are (and I'm sure I'll forget one or two) my Red Room and Yelena headcanons with twists on the Black Widow movie.

I headcanon that Melina was one of Natasha's trainers, and was perhaps nicer to Natasha than she should have been. I figure when she returned from Slovakia, Melina was the only one she told about Nikolai and Rose.

Also, because of Agent Carter, I headcanon that the Red Room had more than one base, but the central or main base was in Russia.

Natasha's joining SHIELD pretty much lines up with the fall of the Iron Curtain, so I don't really add my own touches to that situation, or her failed assassination of Dreykov.

As for Yelena, I headcanon the Red Room changed their tactics as far as their methods of brain washing, not just with what was explained in the Black Widow movie, but implanting different false memories, ones of family instead of being ballerinas to garner better loyalty and threats that if they're disloyal, their family would be killed. So, as far as Yelena knew, Natasha was living the life she made up in her head (the whole science teacher renovating houses deal), and when she was exposed to the dust, she found out the truth about who Natasha really was, but the memories of Natasha being her sister were so strong and had felt so real, that she couldn't move passed them, along with Melina as their Mother and Ivan as their Father (sorry can't do Alexei in that roll because again, my use of comic canon).

I still go with it was Natasha, Yelena, Melina and Alexei (just that Alexei is Natasha's ex-husband, and Natasha believed he was dead until she learned otherwise during the whole Black Widow movie business) that do take down the still existing Red Room and Natasha finally deals with Dreykov once and for all.

One of the things I omit from comic canon, the fact Natasha and Yelena started off as enemies, and Natasha taught her a lesson in a very effed up way, with my headcanons, Natasha doesn't know who Yelena is until the events of the Black Widow movie, but she does decide in a way, they are still sisters as the Red Room raised them both.

[amixedwitch]

tumblr didn't notify me when you tagged me about being back i'm gonna RIOT

n e ways how've you been?

no way home made me... angry for mcu peter in the way i'm angry for harry potter. no adults have done right by him without dying except like. matt murdock, who forgot peter like everyone else.

I’ve been good! Had a nice break but now I’m back ahahaha!!!

I’ll put my reaction to No Way Home below the cut:

Where the fuck were the other superheroes in New York??? Like aside from Strange???? And I’m just at a loss for words about the ending. Im literally in Spain without the S anytime I hear the end credits song.

ALSO CAN I JUST SAY THAT I ABSOLUTELY WANT ANDREW GARFIELD BACK AS ALT-PETER PARKER IN ANY WAY POSSIBLE? GIVE US A FILM OR A SERIES OR SOMETHING!!!

[nebulablakemurphy]

Miss American Pie

Chapter Five: This Will Be The Day (Finale)

Warning: this series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing.

Summary: Everyone has returned but the battle for humanity against Thanos wages on.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You wake in a coughing fit, the rubble surrounding you sears your lungs. “Natasha.” You call into the rocks and flickering lights. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Natasha!”

“Here, I’m here.” Her voice is rough, pained.

You push yourself toward the sound, through the dust you can make out her hair. “You ok?”

“Mostly.” She’s laying face up, a few scratches visible.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I can’t move.” She nods at the piece of collapsed cement. “My leg is broken, you should go.” Nat says, staring up at the sky.

“I should’ve never let you go to Vormir. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You try uselessly to budge the blockage over her leg.

“What is Vormir?” She asks.

“Doesn’t matter.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “How much do you remember?”

“The red room.”

“Do you remember getting out?”

“No one gets out.” She shakes her head.

“We did.” You inform her. “Yelena did.”

“Yelena?” Her gaze finds yours. “You know Yelena? Is she here?”

“Yes, I know her.” You press your lips together. “She’s not here though.”

“The rest of this building is coming down. If you were really trained in the red room you have to know that.” Natasha frowns. “You need to leave.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Don’t be a hero.” She whispers. “Let me go, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not.” You argue. “I won’t do it again.”

“What about Yelena?” Natasha gives you a pointed look.

“She’ll understand.” This is what she would do.

“Hey,” Natasha pushes herself up on her elbows. “Would it be a good thing or a bad thing if a giant man in a metal suit carrying a smaller man and a raccoon appeared behind your head?”

You turn toward the man in question. Scott Lang. “It would be a good thing.”

———————————————————————

Natasha is taken somewhere safe. She can’t fight.

As the strange doctor and his disciples start opening portals you see that you’re not alone. Through one comes Alexei, Melina and Yelena.

Her white suit is pristine, dirty blonde hair held away from her face in ponytails.

On shaky legs you move toward her, taking your rightful place at her side. Facing what lies ahead together.

Yelena catches your hand, “this isn’t much of a welcome home.”

You can’t help but laugh, “pretty cool way to die though.”

“Very,” she agrees. “Natasha?”

“She is a little worse for wear.” You warn her, “but alive…and safe.”

Yelena gives you a watery smile, squeezing your fingers. “And you?”

“A tower fell on me.”

“Of course it did.”

Thanos’ army is nothing to scoff at. Giant airborne creatures hover over his troops. Larger monsters stand in their ranks, space ship overhead ready to destroy.

Steve is almost unrecognizable, covered in dirt, his shield battered and broken. But you know it is time when he gives the order. “Avengers, assemble.”

Fighting is easy, it’s what you know. What you were trained to do. Fight to stay alive, fight for what you believe in, fight with Yelena; for Yelena.

The two of you move together like a well oiled machine. Like riding a bike, even after all this time you could never forget.

“We’ve got company to the left.” Yelena says through gritted teeth, kicking at the alien creature beside her. Dropping an empty cartridge to the ground and reloading her gun seamlessly, firing several shots.

Despite everyone’s best efforts they just keep coming. “Do we have a plan here?”

“Getting there,” Steve replies. “Anybody have eyes on the gauntlet?”

“Yeah!” Clint rushes past you with the glove in hand. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Get it out of here!” Tony insists.

“What’s happening?” Alexei shouts over the chaos. “I still don’t have ear piece.”

“Just keep their army away from that guy in the tank top.” You grunt, falling backwards from the force of one of Thanos’ soldiers colliding with you.

“We have to get the stones back where they came from.” Rhodey reminds everyone.

“The time space tunnel is completely collapsed.” Tony points out.

“That isn’t our only time machine.” Lang cuts in.

“Does anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Captain America’s voice hums through the ear bud.

“I do,” a female voice chimes in. “But you’re not going to like where it’s parked.”

After grappling for far too long, you manage to knock the creature from you. Using your knife to dismember it.

“Next time, we get the cool laser guns.” Yelena yells loud enough to be heard by everyone on the network, as she hauls you to your feet.

“Friday, please add laser guns for the ballerinas to my grocery list.” Stark gives his smart ass remark.

“What’s the word on the van?” Rhodey wonders.

“Working on it now.”

The ship at Thanos’ disposal begins raining fire, no regard for their own troops.

“We’ve got people going down!” Rocket hollers.

“Clint,” you call into the microphone. “How’s that gauntlet?”

“Moving down the field.” The archer replies, “I’m alright too, thanks for asking.”

“Good.” You bite back a smile.

Hell continues breaking loose around you. Glowing circular orbs unfold in the air above, providing coverage from the missiles. You’re not sure if this is winning or losing. It feels like a bit of both.

———————————————————————- Thanos and his army are dusted away. Leaving you surprised and still swinging as the shock wears off.

You won. You. Won.

And you lost.

You lost Tony Stark. The man you’d barely known, but offered you clarity that will stay with you forever.

You lost the Natasha you’d come to know over the five years that Yelena was gone. Some parts of the redhead stripped away for the price of the stone.

But she’s still here. Waiting in the wings to be greeted by Yelena and their little makeshift family. You share a look of understanding when your eyes meet over the blonde’s shoulder.

Others come, Banner refuses to leave her side. Despite the fact that Natasha doesn’t remember him.

Clint falls to the ground at her feet. Breaking down at the sight of his friend, his family alive and well. She doesn’t remember him either, but welcomes him into her arms somewhat awkwardly.

Her expressions flicker from happy to overwhelmed. Hesitant to open herself up to the possibility that she is wanted, needed and loved.

Too confusing for the girl who only remembers the red room. Adjusting to this life will take time.

Everyone begins clearing out, their jobs finished. Rushing home to reunite with their loved ones. Tomorrow will bring about new challenges. The world is in shambles, and so are you.

Steve decides that he should be the one to return the stones. His goodbye tells you that he has a bit more in mind. But this is his life. His choices, not yours.

“Well, I guess we should head out too.” You say after a while. Your car is gone, lost in the wreckage from the explosion.

The setting sun is eclipsed, causing all of you to turn your gaze upwards just in time to see the ship’s door open.

“Is that a raccoon?” Melina asks, pointing toward Rocket.

“Do you want a ride or not?” Rocket shoots back.

“Not the avenger’s super jet, but it will do huh?” Alexei smiles, this is his dream.

“This is better!” A man’s voice carries down from the interior.

“Well,” Yelena shrugs, “if you say so.” She leads the pack up the ramp and onto the ship.

“Fanny and the pigs will be expecting dinner soon.”

“How are they?” Melina asks, “have you been taking care of them.”

“That was me!” Alexei says proudly, bending at the waist to gather Natasha into his arms. “Aye honey,” he grunts, hoisting her up. “You are only little girl in my heart.”

Nat pushes against his chest in retaliation.

“Do you mind if I hitch a ride too?” Clint asks.

“The extra stop will cost you,” Nebula stares blankly at him from her seat.

“They always do.” He remarks, trotting up the ramp.

Bruce paces at the foot of the metal grate, watching the rest of you load up. “I gotta hang back, make sure Steve gets there in one piece.”

“After what happened with Scott the first time I’d say that’s probably the best bet.” You agree, standing near the entrance.

“Yeah,” he smiles, kindly. “Keep me posted on Nat, will ya?”

“I will,” you return the smile.

“I’ll see you around.”

You nod, “I’ll see you.”

The captain of the ship introduces himself as Star-lord, and after a moment without response, Quill.

“Any requests?” He asks, finger hovering over the control panel.

Alexei creeps over to the younger man, quietly relaying a message.

“Alright,” Quill nods. Stroking the keys until a familiar set of notes ring out.

“A long, long time ago-“ The singer croons.

You let out a chuckle.

“I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance. And maybe they'd be happy for a while.”

“We’re really doing this?” Yelena puts a hand to her head, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

“But February made me shiver, with every paper I'd deliver. Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step.” The melody carries on.

“It’s your song.” Natasha turns to her sister.

“I can't remember if I cried. When I read about his widowed bride.” Melina’s eyes are far away, carried back to their years in Ohio. Before the world had been so cruel.

“Something touched me deep inside, the day the music-“

“Died.” Yelena joins in, lulling her head to the side to gage your reaction.

You sigh, all of this beyond surreal. But you allow yourself to live in this moment, because you might not get another. “So bye, bye Miss American Pie…”

“Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.” The roaring chorus of voices fills the silence you’ve grown used to. Fills the parts of you that were empty for so long. “And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye. Singin', “this’ll be the day that I die.”

“This’ll be the day that I die.” Yelena sings, her face alight with a childlike glee.

——————————————————————-

Melina, Natasha and Alexei stay with you for a while. A few weeks as Natasha heals and becomes acclimated to her life.

She claims to hate the attention, but deep down you know she’s full of it.

The Ohio house is bursting at the seams with five adults, nine pigs and one dog.

That isn’t enough to keep visitors at bay. Namely Clint, his wife Laura and their three children.

Things feel a bit off when everyone begins moving out. Alexei, Melina, and their pigs return to the farm outside of Saint Petersburg.

Natasha finds herself drawn to New York, with Bruce and the makeshift building he’s using as a lab.

You adjust to the steady thrum that is daily life, with Fanny and Yelena.

After dinner you load the dishwasher, drying your hands on the nearby tea towel before selecting a cycle.

“So how does it feel?” Yelena asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hmm?” You turn to face her.

“Being a hero.” She clarifies, a smile playing at her lips.

“I’m not-“

“Oh cut the crap, Y/N. You saved the world.” Yelena narrows her eyes at you.

“I did it for you.” You say simply, because it’s true.

Yelena closes the space between you, “why?”

“You know why.” You whisper as she cups your face in her hands, gently stroking her thumb over your cheek. “It’s ok if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“I’d do more for you, and worse.” She assures you. “But do you really want to spend the rest of your life fumbling around feelings in the dark when you could have someone who-“

“I want you. I only ever want you.” You beckon her closer. “Anyway I can have you, that will be enough for me.”

Sometimes wires get crossed and you want things you never have before. And she provides them before you have a chance to ask. You give back to her tenfold, so that neither glass is ever empty. That is love. True love, the only way you’ve ever known it.

“I am yours…in every way a person can belong to another.” Yelena breathes, “and then some.”

Series taglist: @jeyramarie @freeshavocadoooo @ilovewinter101 @3and30aresoultwins @yelenabelovv @miphas-trident @1800-fight-me

If you loved this series as much as I did, you can check out the prequel here!

[fratboykate]

let’s pair an FBAU prompt for every dwd gif in that set. like the bottom right is lil mama hitting up a workout class. taking a little “me time” but then kate shows up with beebs strapped to her chest (like always) and just sits there and watches because she didn’t realize the class involved wifey dancing. Yelena is all like “kate. darling. this is the opposite of me time”. then to make up for it kate gets her some elaborate spa package or something

Like a good Russian little girl, Yelena grew up doing ballet. Alexei and Melina put her in a ballet class since she could stand. She was always told she didn't have the body to be a professional ballerina but she still loved it. It was a way for her to clear her head. It was also funny to see the beat up, world renown, six foot something boxer running to sit in the audience of his short and delicate ballerina daughter. They have some hilarious family pictures from her recitals when she was younger.

Anyway...so...Yelena kinda walks away from classes in high school when that becomes the lowest in the rung of her priorities when she's trying to gear up for college applications and make sure everything is on track for that. She still would put on some music and dance it out if life was getting too stressful tho so it was never really fully removed from her life. It just wasn't officially A Thing anymore.

After Alexia was born and Yelena was really having a hard time falling into the motherhood thing she was desperate to find stuff that made her feel like herself again. One day she saw an ad for the New York City Ballet online and it kinda sparked in her brain. She lowkey went and saw a matinee/early showing. When she stepped out of the theater she had electricity running through her body. It had been ages since she'd felt like she wanted (NEEDED!) to dance but now here she was, rushing back home while googling "Adult Ballet Classes". She didn't care what they involved, she just realized she needed this to center her again when she was currently feeling so off kilter in general.

Yelena finds one that works and she's like "Kate...I need Wednesday nights from 6-7 off. For me. Me time. You can go do things with her at the baby sensory classes and I'm gonna go do a workout class once a week." And Kate immediately is like "OF COURSE HONEY BUNCHES OF OATS! TAKE TEN CLASSES! LITTLE BABY AND I WILL HAVE A BALL ON WEDNESDAY NIGHTS! DONE DEAL! NO SWEAT!"

So Wednesdays come and thats what they do. This becomes a routine. Kate either stays home with beeb or goes with her to class or somewhere else. But that's like...THEIR bro night and it's also Yelena's "Me Time" night.

The whole time Kate assumed it was a regular workout class so there wasn't like massive discussions about it. She never had any reason to believe the opposite. She had the address tho because obviously if anything happened she needed to know where she could find her wife so one Wednesday Kate and the beeb are out roaming and Kate's like "I'm hungry. We should go pick up your mom and take her to dinner after." She heads over to the studio and what she's not expecting is to walk into an Adult Ballet class and her wife KILLING IT front row. Grace and fluidity in every movement of them short little arms and legs lol. And Kate's just standing there like 🥵🥵🥵. Obviously she knows Yelena did ballet and she has seen her do a thing or two around the house at one point or another but she's never seen her Like This.

So Kate's just standing there, hypnotized, and suddenly the baby starts to bounce, babble, and squeal in her carrier. Kate's hand flies to the baby's mouth to cover it because they were dead silent in the room and baby giggles are never not distracting. That's when Yelena notices her girls are there watching her. She didn't want to bring it up before and she had no real reason for it. Just felt like she wanted something that was HERS and only hers for a change but now that she looks over and sees the two of them there she realizes that was stupid because everything is so much better when her Bishop women are involved.

She finishes the class and walks up to her wife and baby all sweaty and Kate is like "🥵Mrs. Bishop...MA'AM...🥵" and Yelena laughs because the bar to turn Kate Bishop on is SO LOW but it's clear that she crossed it by leaps and bounds.

They're walking out and Kate is still shortcircuting and all "😏do I get private lessons later?😏" and Yelena is like "sure sure sure. I love you and it's great to see you and I'm so glad you came but I know you and how your horny brain works. We're not gonna make a habit out of you showing up. Wednesdays nights are still "me time"." Lol

[roaminginspiration]

Pas De Deux

New romanogers fic. Regency AU (think Marvel characters meet Bridgerton). Likes and comments are so appreciated.

All of the other chapers are available on AO3 — please leave kudos and comments

Chapter 1 

The moon shone high in the cool evening, as the wind blew swiftly across the Scottish trees.

The main street was still busy with the comings and goings of carriages and pedestrians still wrapped in their long jackets despite the start of the spring season.

The street further South the town centre was absolutely quiet, though. The local theatre was not as frequented as the primary one that stood proudly in the heart of the city.

Most of the lights inside had been turned off, except for the ones along the hall that led straight to the main room. The air smelt of burning wax and the lingering dust garnered under the seats, and other concealed areas where the cleaner had not bothered to commit fully.

The small orchestra had long been dismissed but it didn’t stop the prima ballerina of the venue to rehearse on stage. She swirled, glided, jumped across the stage with the notes of the symphony playing in her head without fault. She knew the entire soundtrack by heart and didn’t need actual music to immerse herself in the exercise. The wooden floor creaked under her, as always, and she didn’t allow it to pull her out of character.

She stood still in the corner of the stage and took a deep breath. It was the climax, the moment when all the instruments would collide and blend together as one sound. It was when her character, lost in the woods, attempts to escape the sorcerer’s spell.

She sprang forward, one, two, three brisk steps until she leapt high across, her toned legs beautifully splitting apart in the air. Next, she landed on the floor and her heel hit the floor.

She let out a groan of frustration. The long day, on top of the late hour, was beginning to strain. Her breathing, heavier than normal, also indicated her body needed a rest.

She was determined to practise again, though. The sound of the main door opening with its familiar screech caught her attention.

She frowned and walked over to the side, grabbed a towel and wiped it over her sweaty forehead, pulling the red locks of her hair that had fallen loose out of her face in the process.

The silhouette walking in the dim light became clearer as it stepped into the main alley. A slight rush of anger rose at the pit of her stomach and she furrowed her brows in response.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” she commented coolly before walking back to her belongings to pick them up. The visitor walked up closer to the stage, her heavy and velvety dress sweeping elegantly across the worn parquet. “I thought you said you would never step a foot in this forsaken place,” she continued.

“I have not come here to argue with you, Natasha,” the woman answered collectedly.

A smirk came to Natasha’s lips as she turned to face the visitor. Her gaze lingered on her fair and smooth skin hardly affected by the passing of time, her almond-shaped dark brown eyes and her beautiful silky hazel hair nicely wrapped in an intricate updo. In truth, she looked as beautiful and regal as the last time she had seen her eleven months ago.

“Then, what are you here for Melina?” she asked. She received a reproachful frown in response.

“I am still your mother, Natasha, whether you like it or not. You owe me respect.”

Natasha swallowed a sigh and came down the stage to face her matriarch.

“My apologies,” she answered in Russian with the shadow of an ironic grin. “I suppose one loses all manners when shunned from one own’s family.”

The woman cleared her throat, one of her most distinct signs of reprobation.

“I would personally blame your lack of manner on your new…work environment and the company that comes with it,” she slurred the word ‘work’ like it was an insult. Becoming a ballet dancer, and so far from the family estate, was the definition of dishonour. It easily beat the scandal of an elopement and being with child outside marriage in London society. Melina looked around the forlorn-looking theatre with unconcealed judgment then down at her flimsy apparel. “The entirety of this place reeks of depravity.”

“Mother!” Natasha exclaimed, throwing the towel on the nearest seat at the exasperation of a familiar argument. “I am a dancer. I love it…I breathe for it. Why can’t you be happy for me?”  

“People talk. A dancer? They might as well call you a harlot. If anyone actually discovered the reason of your absence, your reputation would be forever lost.”

Ten months ago, a month after Natasha had made the decision to pursue her dreams of becoming one day London’s Prima Ballerina, and was consequently scorned by her father — with the silent approval of Melina, and ended up in Scotland instead, she received one final letter from her mother clearly stipulating that she does not use her family name to build her dancing career on. She had insisted it were her father’s requirements if she did not want to face his most Russian wrath. She also added, after a long tirade of how she had almost brought the entire family name and its noble heritage to disrepute, that in the estate and London, and for anyone who would ask, it would be said that she had gone to study Arts across Europe for an indeterminate period of time.  

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Maybe it is time that the noble society mentality changes. A woman should be able to embrace any endeavour that she deems fit.”

“Oh, my sweet child,” Melina answered as she brushed her thumb across her daughter’s cheekbone. “I admire your spirit, I really do, but those are thoughts and pursuits of the other sex. If you were a man, everyone who admire your courage and determination. As a woman, you are looked down as reckless and a danger to the sturdy and unbreakable foundations of our society.”

Natasha looked deep into her mother’s eyes, finding for the first time in the longest time, compassion, and perhaps a dash of admiration.

But it only lasted a moment.

“You have already considerably jeopardised your chances of favourable marriage — if one at all.”

She grunted and pulled her face away from her mother’s cupped hand. “You will not find a good match now that you have left the family house unchaperoned and to work. No respectable man will suffer the indignity of the situation, let alone agree to matrimony.”

Natasha swiftly shoved her belongings in the bag as she endured Melina’s speech on marriage, the only one that was more insufferable than the dishonour one.

“Go home, mother,” she said, her back turned to her. “I am not sure I understand why you travelled all the way here to remind me that I am a doomed woman with no future. You know I couldn’t care less about finding a husband.”

She pictured all those annoyingly lords standing stiffly at balls as they surveyed the girls of the season like a buyer would gauge merchandise.

“Then maybe you will care about your sister’s future,” Melina spoke.

Natasha paused. Hearing about her sister was the only thing that made her family salvageable. She turned around to face her mother.

“What about her?” she asked.

Melina concealed a small grin of victory.

“Yelena will be joining the social season for the first and hearsay is that she could very much be the favourite debutante. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what it means. She could marry up and greatly improve the family’s standing in London.”

The Romanoff family earned its nobility from its Russian-based lineage, but despite the fact her father Alexei had the baron title and a decent estate, it still suffered finances and relations constraints (due to the latter). If Yelena could get a good match, it would benefit and secure her family’s position in London society.

Natasha hated the idea that such responsibility lay on her young sister’s shoulders. It normally would have fallen on her hadn’t she brought chaos and doom over her heritage because of a ‘fancy pastime’.

“So you came all the way here to ask me to keep away from London?”

“Quite the contrary. Yelena cannot start the season without her older sister being around. This would look highly suspicious and could potentially ruin the chances of a good match. People will wonder why you aren’t being part of such a major family affair.”

She crossed her arms. “I can’t go back to London and give up the troupe.”

Melina grinned sheepishly. “Aren’t you the understudy?” she asked.

Natasha shot her a cold look. “Thanks, mother.”

“I meant no offence,” she assured.

“I was the understudy in the main theatre troupe, but not anymore. I dance here every evening.”

Melina pressed her pam against her forehead like she was going faint. The thought of her daughter displaying herself to an audience of voracious men with undoubtedly lusty thoughts and intents and married women internally thanking God for saving them from such a fate made her dizzy. The idea her entire would collapse on this dirty floor kept her standing, however.

“Can’t you take a holiday for the season, tell them you will return in a couple of months? You could even leave earlier, as soon as the wedding is arranged.”

“What’s in it for me?” Natasha asked. “Balls and other social events are so mundane.”

Melina frowned, although she expected no less from this conversation. She, in fact, came up with a very good bargain on her way to Edinburgh.

“You will be free to commit to her dancing career. No more interference from us.”

Natasha snorted. “Please, I don’t hear from you at all already. It’s hardly a good bargain for me.”

“We will give you our blessing, our monetary one at least, and you will be free to visit as often as you wish.”

“I want to hear Father give me his blessing in person,” Natasha said.

That was huge and bold. Bigger and bolder than the stain on the velvet curtain on the stage.

“Oh dear,” Melina hyperventilated. She feared her brazen daughter would come on this condition. Thankfully, she had an entire season to make Alexei cave.

“Deal,” she said.

Natasha smiled triumphantly. The prospect of such a victory made the thought of a strenuous picnic at Lady Montgomery sound oh so delightful.

“I will speak to the director,” Natasha answered and put her coat on. “I suppose you have already sorted the accommodation.”

“Lizzie is standing right outside and Roger is waiting for the carriage.”

“I should be able to depart tomorrow in the early afternoon.”

Melina nodded with unconcealed satisfaction. “I will send Lizzie for you.”

Natasha made her way towards the exit then turned around. “Just so we’re clear, I am mostly doing this for Yelena. She deserves the best and I would hate the idea that I somehow stood in the way to her happiness.”    

“I know, dear. I promise you will not regret your trip to London.”

Natasha sort of shrugged nonchalantly and made her way up the alley.

Melina’s entire plan for the family’s success to be complete, of course, was to cling to the hope that her older daughter would find a match that would bring her back to reason.

She would certainly do everything in her power to lock two weddings in the same season.

________________________________________________

At Starbrook Manor, Steve was sorting out the many documents, letters and other paperwork that had piled up over the past weeks. He next folded a missive he had just written, poured the war and stamped the family crest seal on it. As the liquid turned solid, he looked intently at the symbol he had just embossed, pulled into unsolicited reverie.

A knock on the door brought him back to reality, much to his relief, and he smiled at the sight of his mother approaching with a loving smile.

She stood behind him and kissed the top of his head.

“You have been so diligent at sorting out all this paperwork. You picked up on the many businesses with astounding ease and efficiency. Your father would be proud,” Sarah spoke softly. “I know how difficult it must have been to take on all these responsibilities so soon after Joseph passed away.”    

Steve had been called from America soon after his father had fallen seriously ill. By the time he arrived in England, the physicist informed him it was only a matter of hours before the Earl would pass. He spent the evening, then the night by his bedside, holding his father’s hand between his palms until his grip turned completely loose.

Earl Joseph Rogers was feverish for most of the time, but when he gained enough consciousness to recognise his only son sitting in the room, he asked him to look after her mother and the family business. He didn’t ask for any promise for he knew his son well enough to know he would dedicate himself entirely to the task and never disappoint. This was how the Earl departed the world peacefully.

Steve did not return to America after that. He had spent the last five years there pursuing personal endeavours, all of which he put aside to commit to his new role. He sorted out shipment and other business all the way from Starbrook Manor. He had been spending the last few weeks travelling back and forth between the estate and Whitmore Residence in London when he was needed in town for business meetings and other formalities.

Sitting in his father’s study, sealing documents with his stamp, signing the letters with his title…these were all strange things he had not wrapped his mind around yet.

“I do not wish for you to worry about anything, mother. Leave it all to my supervision.”

Sarah smiled as she looked at her only son. She had been unfortunate to miscarry two children, one of which should have been Steve’s old brother. But in this ordeal, God had graced her with the best son a mother could hope for.

“I am so fortunate, you know? The other ladies tell me how they wish their son were more like you, sensible and devoted, kind-hearted and fair.” She paused and smiled, “While the mamas fervently hope you will choose their daughter this season.”

Steve got up from the chair, brushed his hand on her shoulder and slowly walked over to the window.

“I know that a good marriage is important to you and will determine the good future of the family. I shall not disappoint you.”

He looked down musingly at the jasmine flowers standing in rows in the soil as the landscaper was watering them.

Sarah came by his side and pressed a hand on his shoulder. “I know it must appear cruel of me that I expect you to marry now, when you probably have other aspirations, but I believe it is what we all need to ensure stability. Remember you are the Earl now, you need a Countess on whom you can rely and who can bring harmony and honour.”

He watched as the gardener knelt down, inspected one of the flowers and cut it at the base with a sweeping and cold motion. It felt like witnessing his hope of a genuine romance be yanked out of his life.

He took a short breath in and averted his gaze from the window. He turned to his mother and smiled.

“I promise I shall bring home a Countess worthy of your respect and affection. Someone who inspires prestige and excellence.”

As certain as it was that he would devote himself to serving her and making her happy the very moment she would become his wife, he didn’t know if his heart would learn to love her as well.

Hopefully, with time, he would.

[thassalia]

Title: That’s Just TuTu Good

Spoilers for Black Widow. Tiny snippet of that other life…

***

"She's very good." Barb says. She has a thick blond fringe and a pony tail, laugh lines and leather dance slippers with a slight heel. She's wearing sweatshirt over a leotard and tights. It says "Barb's Ballet Boutique." It's turquoise, and features a chubby-thighed toddler picking daisies in a tutu. Melina hides her distaste with wide eyes and an intent expression.

"She's better than her classmates, if I'm honest," Barb continues. "But she's a little intense. Not great at making a space at the bar, stands in the same spot for the adagio, even if they are supposed to rotate."

Natasha sports a weary, studied boredom but her attention is focused sharply between Melina and Barb. The next class has started and the chords for the warm up filter through the walls, a soft backdrop. Despite the cutesy name, the little girls in ribboned skirts and unkempt hair, the teachers are serious. Yelena may have traded a perfect fifth position for the bunny hop in her "Music and Movement" class, had begged for a rainbow skirt, but the older girls are expected to pin back their hair and keep their giggling to a minimum.

“Most of the girls in her class, they see the Nutcracker at Christmas. They want toe shoes and costumes. They want to feel like a fairy tale.”

Natasha had passed the hand to hand and firearms tests before the mission began. Her life has never been a fairy tale, any more than Melina’s had. She tries to not curl her lip at the Nutcracker.

“We took the girls last year,” she says, like she understands.

“Sure,” Barb says. “And we sometimes have girls fill out the party scene. It’s a moneymaker. But so are classes…”

Barb still holds herself like a dancer, feet turned out and eyes sharp. She's speaking to Melina, but Natasha is in her perimeter like she's waiting for the girl to say something, defend herself, perhaps, or betray the nervy focus of a burgeoning prima ballerina.

Instead, Natasha stays still and silent and waits. Melina pulls her thoughts together, obfuscates. A mother with mixed feelings, confiding in a stranger. The American landscape for girls is fraught, for all the talk of progress for women.

"She's athletic, competitive. She'd rather play soccer or do gymnastics but her father thought something feminine might help, to meet other girls you know. To make friends. To find some grace."

Natasha's hair is pulled back tightly, it helps school her expression. At 8, she understood stillness in a way that the other students, both of the Red Room, and in this small town dance class, did not. She tightens her mouth, ready to contradict her mother. Not the assessment but her father's right to have a say.

Melina smiles internally. Natasha is already so good at this, at using what people want to believe.

"Thing is," Barb says shrewdly, "Good is..." She pauses. "Well, I don't see many girls with her talent or discipline. But, she doesn't seem to like it very much. For all that."

Melina struggles not to bite her lip, to soften her gaze to concern. That's not what she expected and she wants to say, "So? How is that the point?" Instead, she croons, "Baby, is that true?"

Natasha lifts a shoulder. "I like to dance." But she doesn't elaborate.

"Maybe," Barb says, and her tone is more gentle now, "Modern is the way to go. Or jazz. Something looser.”

"I really like this," Natasha says, although Melina doubts that to be true. Her eyes have flicked to the second studio where the Waltz of the Animals is playing and Yelena is hopping in a line, a plastic pom-pom in each hand.

Melina holds back a sigh. Ballet is part of the training: to move with that level of grace, to hold a line, to absorb art and music, to captivate. Natasha will have to continue ballet regardless of Barb's assessment. This studio is convenient. She doesn't want to chauffer the girls to different places all over town, and it fits with their cover. The other girls from the company go here. Their mothers gather and gossip. Melina already has more intel from bad coffee dates than Alexei has gathered in months. These women spill secrets so easily.

"Maybe, we go back to once a week," Melina concedes. "And, maybe the gymnasium, too. Burn off more energy."

There's a little flicker from Barb, and Melina realizes her mistake, but Natasha steps in. "They don't call it that, Mom." She rolls her eyes, hard, itches at her bun so it releases a little, snapping some of the baby hairs that then curl against her forehead. It breaks the tension, reduces Natasha to just a kid, a little embarrassed by her parent. It disarms Barb.

"There's also dance team," she says to Melina, finally. "She’s younger than most, but she could join. We can make an exception. Competition drives them. Ballet is great. I trained hard. Made it to the corps, but this isn't really the place if she's serious about ballet."

A team is a risk. There are photos, travel, video shoots, but Melina just smiles, strokes Natasha's hair even as she shifts under the handling. "It would be expensive, though?" she queries, as if money is more important than she wants to admit.

"It's not cheap," Barb says, "But what is?"

Melina has seen the team girls, and they remind her too much of her past. Matching hair and uniforms and movement that have little to do with expression. Natasha would do well, would be one of many, perhaps. "How much?" she says.

Natasha drops out of the dance team two years later, six months before they complete their mission. She dyes her hair purple instead, then blue, breasts budding under her cotton shirt, influenced no doubt by two years of American propaganda -- individualism at all costs. Melina hates it, envies her deeply, doesn't argue when she says she'd rather go to science camp that summer than travel to Florida and do a routine again, matching movement and expression with 12 other girls.

Melina thinks Natasha wants to ride her bike, and read books, and go to the record store in town where she'd bought the hair dye that transformed their bathroom into an indigo abattoir. Manic Panic, indeed.

"There's a computer camp," Natasha says, and hands her the brochure. "Stark Industries is hosting it."

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Devil’s Backbone

Devil’s Backbone

Chapter 2

AN: I hope everyone is enjoying the story so, far and here is chapter 2 :)

Story Rating: Explicit, 18+

Warnings: Smut, violence, flashbacks of past sexual assault, descriptions of torture and racial hate. Tony is not a good guy from chapter 2.

Relationships: Bucky/OC, Steve/Natasha, Billy/Wanda/Grant, Sam/Sharon, Clint/Laura and Yelena/Frank Castle/Karen Page.

Summary: In the aftermath of the Blip, Bucky struggled to find his place among the world and the Avengers. However, when he is sent on a mission to Madripoor to investigate a mysterious woman, he starts to realize maybe his past isn’t too far behind. Co-Written with WalkingPotterGirl14.

Bucky felt stunned at what he was seeing as he saw the young woman break into Natasha's room. She came out freshly showered and wearing Natasha's clothes. He couldn't see her face, as she had back turned to the cameras before walking down the hallway and going into Wanda's bedroom. She came out a few minutes later, with nothing but plenty of bottles of Wanda's shampoo and conditioner. Wanda looked stunned by what she was seeing, watching as she walked further down the hallway. The woman then broke into Yelena's bedroom. She was in there far longer than she had been in Wanda's room, and sooner or later the woman left with a suitcase, before the security camera went fuzzy. "We don't have any security footage of her face, as she kept her back to the cameras. She knew where she was going…but why did she go into Wanda, Yelena and Natasha's bedrooms?" Billy asked wearily. They didn't even know who she was. "Natasha and Yelena believe that someone escaped the HYDRA base in Belarus and hid on the quinjet. I want Romanoff, Russo, Belova, and Stark to check the HYDRA base again to see if we missed something," Fury instructed sternly. Everyone nodded and left to do what the director had instructed. "Where do you want the rest of us, sir?" Steve asked gravely. He knew this was serious. Whoever this woman was, she'd been able to remain undetected by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "I want you, Barnes, Barton, Maximoff, Ward, and Wilson to search the nearby streets for any sign of this woman. Whoever she is, she might be a threat to us," Fury said gravely, and everyone nodded in understanding.

The flight to Madripoor was eight hours. Ana passed the time by catching up with the world events that had occurred when she had been placed in cyro by her handlers. The WHIH news was reporting on a terrorist group called the Flag Smashers being sent to an underwater prison called the Raft, along with their sympathizers. The group had blown up a GRC Supply Depot in Riga, Latvia, killing seventy-nine people and injuring plenty of civilians. Five of the victims had families, with one having just started the job, and was a father of two. She shook her head in disgust. Ana was no saint in any way. She had blood on her hands, but she never deliberately tried to kill civilians during her missions. The faces of the people she had killed in the name of HYDRA or the Red Room cut her deeply. She had never wanted this life when she had lived at the orphanage. All she had dreamed about was of becoming a ballet dancer, like her mother before she had passed away. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are about to land at Madripoor airport. There will be slight turbulence due to strong winds," the voice of the pilot announced gravely. Everyone fastened their seat-belts, and Ana avoided looking out of the window. She loved the sea, but she had a terrible fear of drowning after one of the girls in the Red Room nearly drowned her at the swimming pool. The plane landed gracefully with people gradually leaving. Ana allowed a couple to leave first before she went to exit. She went into the airport, as she walked to the luggage hold area, and grabbed her suitcase, heading out as quickly as possible. Her next stop was going to High Town and getting settled in. She needed to find information on all these players, including on Peggy Carter's niece who was still living in Madripoor, despite being pardoned by the US government. She put on her dark tinted sunglasses, before going to the garage and found a black Suzuki Ignis in the car park. She smiled slightly before picking up the keys, and saw the car had black tinted windows. She hoped the windows were bulletproof, but she decided not to tempt fate. At least, not yet.

Bucky was in the living room with Steve, Sam, Wanda, Grant, and Clint, reading through the documents about the Black Widow Ops program. It felt like a dead end, until he saw a name on the list of girls in the program. 'Anastasia Liukin.' "Are we sure that Natasha and Yelena were the only two who survived the Red Room Program? What if someone else survived?" Sam was the one who asked question that all of them had been thinking. An uneasy silence fell upon them. Natasha and Yelena were very secretive about their time in the Red Room. Bucky knew both of them due to having trained them in the Red Room, and his past relationship with Natasha. Not that it was something that either he nor Natasha liked to be reminded or think about. He didn't have happy memories of his time in the Red Room. If anything, it was something that gave him nightmares. He was the bogeyman to the girls in the Red Room. A terrifying man who would harshly discipline them if they failed in any of the lessons. Failure in ballet, languages, gymnastics, or espionage was not tolerated by the superiors in the Red Room. Faintly, he remembered a young woman around sixteen being sent to be trained by him. She had been Yelena's age, but the superiors and other girls hadn't liked the fact that she still remained kind, even refusing to kill other girls in the class. He didn't know what had happened to her, but he knew Melina Vostokoff had worked as a trainer in the academy. He hated the cold bitch, and she didn't like him either and neither did her husband. Hmm…he really did wonder what happened to her. Thinking about her more, all he could remember is her refusal every time they tried to trick her into doing something painful. She was so sweet…The Red Room must have ruined her. They never let anyone out who doesn't obey them. Goddamnit…he wished his memory weren’t so damn fuzzy. "This file really says everything we need to know," Steve states quietly, turning the pages. "Anastasia Liukin…a young girl who grew up in an orphanage after her mother died…enhanced physiology, holy shit…Nat might know something seriously about this girl. Yelena too." Sam takes the folder from him, looking over it quickly. "She was abandoned at an orphanage until she was seven and then they took her away to the Red Room under the guise she would be a ballerina…there they trained her." He lowers the file and looks to Steve. "They have to know something about this…but why would they keep it a secret?" "Maybe she's really dangerous?" Wanda suggests. "It's not like them to keep dangerous threats from us," Clint argues quietly. "There has to be another reason why." "Hold on a minute," Steve mutters, getting up and heading over to where the taping was from earlier, playing it back on the screen. He had the file in one hand and looked back and forth as the video played. "What if the possible person that snuck into here was her?" "But they said-" "Wanda, I don't know if you know this, but Nat and Yelena have plenty of secrets from us," Steve says quietly, turning to her. "If this was another one of their secrets, then I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe the moment we got into the HYDRA base, we activated something, and it woke her up if she was in cyro or something, like Buck was. What if the reason she didn't activate F.R.I.D.A.Y. was because she's a spy like them? A soldier?" Steve looks over at Bucky, who was continuously looking at a picture of the girl from before. His brow furrows. "What's up, Bucky?" "I…I think I saw her." Everyone's eyes turn to him, all their attention focused on his one phrase. God, he hated being the center of their eyes. Steve walks over to where he sat, moving to sit next to him. "What do you mean?"

"I…wanted a quick drink of coffee and something sweet…Alpine was resting and I decided to head down to the coffee shop below my place to grab something and there was this girl who…bought two cookies for herself and a coffee…I didn't have enough money to get my own cookie and she overheard so she came over and gave one of hers to me…I felt like she looked familiar, I…I didn't know if it was her or not, I…" He runs his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry, guys." "Bucky, don't apologize. It has nothing to do with you. Not like we knew any better at the time." He looks down at the file. "However, if it was, we might be able to figure out where she is now. Maybe if we confront Nat and Yelena with this information, we can figure out how to find her." Bucky nods quietly. "Okay…okay, yeah, we can do that."

She had to admit, the Power Broker was hard to get by, but after some scrounging around, Ana was able to set up a meeting with the guy, having to stumble into his overtly large and grand apartment. She had to admit, it was quite the nice place. Part of her wished it were hers. "Ah, I see you've finally arrived," a voice called out to her as she walked into a large living room. She raises her brow to see a man come out who honestly didn't look like much, but she knew the power he had. "The woman of the hour. The escaped Red Room agent. The-" "Cut the crap," she states, crossing her arms against her chest. "Let's get down to business. I have a lot of money and I certainly can't use it in the United States. I want to start up here. What are my options?" The man chuckles and shakes his head. "You are assertive, I'll give you that." He grabs a drink for her, but she dismisses it, taking a seat down. She wasn't dumb enough to accept a drink from a stranger. The man shrugs and turns back around. "Having a tough day, huh?" "It's any other day. I just want to make sure I can afford the place I'm staying at, is all," she states lightly, looking up at him. "And I know that you can be the man to do that." The Power Broker snickers and shakes his head, going to sit opposite from her. "You're sweet to think you can suddenly overwhelm me like that, but if work is what you want, it is what you can get. You're a strong little girl, huh?" She feels her hands turn to fists. She hated when people said that. "I can tell from that face you got. There's years of death in those eyes, huh?" "Are you going to give me a job or not?" She asks through gritted teeth. "Isaiah Bradley," he states simply before grabbing a remote from the couch, pulling up a picture on the TV in front of them. "Do you know of him?" "I've…heard of him," she states slowly. "He was a test subject for the Super-Soldier serum years ago, but they really did really bad shit to him. Have no idea where he is now, though." "Well, I do," the Power Broker states, standing. "Isaiah is currently in Baltimore, Maryland, assumingly trying to hide out the rest of his days. But I don't plan for that to happen." Ana stands, her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" "You see, Anastasia-" "Ana," she corrects. "Ana," he answers, with a grim smile. "I'm in the business of power. I give people the power that they want for a price. One of those ways I have done it is through the Super Soldier serum…sadly, those bloody Avengers took out one of my main scientists that was recreating the serum for me…but luckily, when one person falls, two others shall take their place. They have all of the info that they need to continue making the serum and bringing me more power than before, but all I need is Isiah." Ana stares at him in horror. "You're going to make more of those serums that killed so many people? That created those Flag-Smashers? There has to be another way-" "There is no other way for power, my dear," the man states, coming over to her. "You want safety? You want to make sure you're in charge of your life? You capture Isiah for me with your skills, and I'll make sure that money you have will never leave your side, and the power you gain will only grow. It's your choice." Ana didn't even know what to say. She knew what the serum did to people. She knew how terrifying it was. There was no way she was going to let someone like him take that again. Let him control people with that. So, she swallows and takes a step back, before grabbing the drink he had offered her earlier. Fuck it. "You can't find anyone else?" She asks slightly, feeling around her belt for a moment. "To do this dirty work?" "I could, but I'm quite positive that having someone from the Red Room do it for me would be the best option, for you and myself." She nods slightly before turning to face him, swallowing the whole drink in one sitting. It was now or never. "You see…I've always been in favour of getting what I want, so yes, in your eyes, this might be your best option for me…but it's not in my head." She lowers the glass to the table. "For me, the best option IS Madripoor…owning the city as you do. Isaiah Bradley has been through hell and back, and I don't intend to bring him forward to endure more of that pain." The man lowers his glass to the table. "Ana, I-" "I'm going to kill you, Power Broker," she states coldly. "You have five seconds to run." He takes off. She counts to five, and then runs quicker, going directly after him.

She chased him through the apartment, catching sight of him trying to run through the back garden once he exited his place. She caught up to him, just as he was heading out, before grabbing him by the back of his jacket, throwing him into the side of a back entrance door. She glared at him in disgust, before dragging him towards her. "I've seen men like you before who don't give a damn about the people they hurt," she said dangerously. The Power Broker started laughing then at her, causing her to stare at him in confusion. "Do you really think I didn't have a contingency plan in place if you refused to capture Isiah, Ana? I sent a black ops team to capture him. I've known where he lives all this time. And if he dies, then I'll just simply use his grandson," he said smugly. Ana saw red in that moment, and promptly knocked him to the point of being unconscious. She pulled out a disposable cell phone, typing in the number and waited impatiently as the phone rang. Finally, after seven rings, the woman answered. "Sharon Carter of Carter Art speaking. How can I help you?" The woman asked pleasantly. Ana decided that she needed to meet with her face to face. But no way in hell, was she giving her real name. She'd use another name. There were a few names that held deep, fond memories for her. "Hello, Miss Carter. This is Olga Omelianchik speaking. I need to speak with you urgently. Is there a place that we can talk?" She asked calmly. Sharon paused on the line. "We'll meet at my place. I'll send a car to pick you up. What's this about?" She asked wearily, causing Ana to smile slightly. The woman wasn't stupid. Then again, the niece of Peggy Carter wouldn't be stupid. "Isaiah Bradley. And send me the address. I'll drive there," Ana answered firmly. Sharon agreed and texted her the address after hanging up. She looked disdainfully at the Power Broker's unconscious body before tying his hands with vibranium handcuffs. She dragged him to the car, throwing his body in the back of the trunk, before starting up the engine and driving away.

Natasha sighed tiredly as they once again began searching the HYDRA base. There was nothing to see until she found a room that had at least ten cyrostasis chambers. One of them looked like it had been recently used, and she noticed footprints on the dust covered floor. Someone had definitely been here recently, but she had no idea who it was. Her mind then wondered to a young girl with light blonde hair, and hazel eyes but her thoughts were interrupted when a voice spoke out. "Anything?" Yelena asked quietly, as she stepped into the room. Natasha shook her head. There wasn't any sign of the mysterious woman but whoever the woman was, she was dangerous. "Nothing aside from an abandoned cyrostasis chamber. I found this file along with a backpack in a safe, but no dice," she answered wearily, showing Yelena the backpack, along with the files. They were all in Russian, which would be translated once they returned to the compound. Sighing, Natasha was relieved when they left the building and made their way to the jet. She couldn't help but feel like she had seen that woman on the security footage before.

Sharon waited wearily for the mysterious young woman to meet with her, and saw a black Suzuki Ignis parking in the driveway. A young blonde-haired young woman came out of the car, wearing a black leather jacket. She looked at her silently. "Sharon Carter?" She asked wearily, Sharon nodded and shook her hand as they walked to the back of the car. Sharon had a feeling that this woman didn't take anyone's bullshit. "That's me…and you are?" she asked cautiously. The young woman smiled slightly at her question. It didn't look like she smiled a lot. Her eyes were hard and guarded. "Ana Liukin…I have a proposition for you that I believe will benefit both of us, and your friends who happen to be the Avengers? I know you helped them when Zemo killed Dr. Nadler," Ana offered. Sharon stared at her in surprise before nodding and the woman opened the boot of her car to the young woman. Sharon was greeted by the sight of the Power Broker, tied up and unconscious in Ana's car. She stared at Ana in a stunned silence, before regaining her composure. "What do you need my help with?" She asked cautiously as Ana admired the cherry blossom trees that were blooming in her garden. "I need you to send a message to the Avengers about Isaiah Washington. The Power Broker sent a black ops team to capture him and his grandson. He wants to recreate the super-soldier serum," she explained quickly to her, Sharon nodded in understanding, and glanced at the Power Broker. "What are you going to do about him?" She questioned curiously, genuinely interested. "I'll deal with him, don't worry…I think it's time that Madripoor had a new leader, one that cleans up the place," Ana answered smoothly, before getting in her car and driving away. Sharon watched her go, impressed but also stunned by what the younger woman was doing.

Sam felt his phone vibrate before turning it on and seeing a text from Sharon. He frowned. Sharon had been working undercover for Fury but hadn't come back after the Flag Smashers and Karli had been sent to the Raft. 'Isaiah Bradley's been compromised. The Power Broker's sent a black ops team to kidnap him and his grandson. Get them out of there, Sam!' "Steve, Bucky, Clint! Wanda! We need to get to Baltimore NOW!" He shouted urgently. "Whoa, whoa, what's going on?" Bucky asks, running over to him as soon as he heard him yelling. "It's Isaiah. The Power Broker sent a team after him – we need to stop them now!" He urges. "Sharon just let me know!" Steve nods, a determined look on his face. "Then let's get going."

They had raced out to the quinjet as soon as possible, getting on as quickly as they could until they raced off to where Baltimore was. Luckily, the city wasn't too far with their mode of transportation, and within a little bit of time, they had arrived, heading straight to where Isiah's house was. As soon as they did, they could see that there were people trying to break in. But that ended almost as quickly as it began, as Steve had used his shield to knock out several of the guys while the rest of them got to work. Bucky took out a couple with his skills, Sam with his gear, Clint with his arrows and Wanda with her powers. It was times like this that Bucky actually remembered that they worked well as a team most of the time. He wished they were given more things to do like this. Show his worth to more people. Once the threat was taken out, they called the police, getting them, all sent to their cars. Bucky had wiped the blood from his face as he takes a seat down, watching as Isiah talked to Steve quietly, thanking him for coming. Even in his age with the serum, Isiah was still old. He wouldn't have been able to take on all those guys at once. "You doing alright?" He hears from above, seeing Wanda take a seat down next to him. "Seems like you're lost up here." She points to her head. Bucky chuckles a bit and shrugs his shoulders. "Just thinking about everything we do…I feel like Fury doesn't…I don't know, trust me enough yet." He looks over at her. "It's always team missions and it's never really with the ones that work together – all of us work well but then I go on missions with Sam, and we get along fine but Tony is there, or Yelena might come…I just wish more people would trust me, but I know nothing is built overnight." Wanda sighs quietly before gesturing to her. "When I first came here, he didn't trust me either. It takes time to gain the man's trust. You did try to kill him once."

Bucky cringes before rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, you're right about that." At that moment, Clint comes around, his phone in his hands. "Hey, did you ever ask Sharon how she found that out?" "I did but she's being sort of sketchy about it," Sam answers honestly. "She won't tell me. Says there was some deal between her and a girl. Don't know who…but whoever it is, apparently she's taking down the Power Broker." Bucky's brow raises in surprise. "Just like that? She pops up out of nowhere?" "Sometimes that happens. A brand-new enemy comes around and makes the weaker one bite the dust," Clint remarks, sharpening his arrows. "If she is becoming a new Power Broker, we need to keep an eye out then…but if she was like the current one, then why would she warn us?" That was the question everyone was thinking. And no one quite had the answer to it.

As soon as she had dragged the Power Broker out of her car and back into his fancy shmancy apartment, he was practically begging for his life. She had him pinned up to a chair in his kitchen, her knife at his neck. She had told him about how she stopped his plan, how nothing was going to work as he had wanted, and now, he was going to die. He pleaded, screamed, tried to bargain, but in the end, all she wanted was his seat. His place. His power. So, she slits his throat. His blood flies onto her clothes, but she doesn't flinch. It doesn't take long for the life in him to drain out, and she tilts her head, looking at the dead body, all she can think is how aggravating it was going to be cleaning the blood from the floor. She undoes his handcuffs and watches as the body fell. If she had this power…she was surely going to make sure someone else took this damn body away. She was done hiding her sins. "Excuse me?" She calls out to an intercom, which she is met with a surprising "Yes?" She responds "Your little leader is dead. I request you come up and take him before I take you out too." There was silence on the other line for a good couple of seconds before the respond with a "Yes, ma'am." Now THAT sounded good. She took a shower after that, and by the time she had emerged with new clothes, the body was gone, and the blood cleaned. She smiles as she heads into the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of wine from his wine fridge and takes a seat down, glancing outside at the skyline of Madripoor. This whole city would be hers…at a cost. The Power Broker would kill anyone innocent to get what he wants. She drew the line at that…God knows she had done enough of it long ago. Ana sighs as she takes a sip of her wine, remembering her last moments in New York City. Her mind kept going back to the man in the coffee shop she had met not long before her flight. What was it about him? Was it his eyes? His hair? His beard? Why was she spending so much time- She gasps, the drink suddenly dropping from her hand and onto the floor, shattering. A pillar of memories struck her. That man wasn't a stranger. That man was the fucking Winter Soldier. The man that had trained her in the Red Room. "H…holy shit," she whispers, bringing a hand to her mouth in shock. It all made sense now. Why he looked so stressed, why he thought she looked familiar too…he must not have recognized her either. She wondered if he knew now. What a fucking day. She runs her hands through her hair. God…the memories she had with the Winter Soldier.

tag list: @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie @sapphirescrolls @americasass81 @americasasssssssss @james-bucky-barnes-imagines @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @giorno-plays-piano @threeminutesoflife @marvelfansworld @connie326 @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @lex-the-flex @queenoftheunderdark @navybrat817 @world-of-aus @the-soulofdevil @gogolucky13 @writersbuck @mypoisonedvine @captain-barnes-writes and @nomadicpixel and @nsfwsebbie 

[redroomfcrged]

Random headcanon / reminder: 90% of Natasha’s memories that involve her childhood, adolescence and early adult years  are still a massive jumble.  While she’s spent decades trying to disentangle what was real and what were programmed memories and or cover stories that got mashed into her brain long enough that they melded into one big haze - the cover story of the ballerina, the prima donna, the school for the elite; the cover story of this family unit or that family unit; this socialite or this prime minister’s wife or that government official’s secretary and or mistress --  

                   --  she does not have very few concrete memories that she can look back on and identify with certainty that ‘yes, this was me’ and or ‘yes, this is real’.  Incorporating in the events of the Black Widow movie, this only emphasizes her disconnect with ‘memories’ that she has as a whole -- that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have feelings for Yelena, Melina, Alexei - that three year period was by far the closest to normalcy that she ever had and while the family unit might have been staged, it was real enough to leave a lasting impression and lasting grief - even if she was forced to ignore it, forget it, move on, when she was integrated back into the Red Room program --

           ---- all that being said though, she sometimes still doubts whether those memories were even real or if that too was all programmed into her, Yelena, etc. etc. -- but whether they were or not, she can’t deny the connection and emotions that she feels when looking back on them and she’s spent her entire life wishing for a mother, a family, that she is willing to, at this point in her modern life, just accept it and love and appreciate them for what they do / did now regardless of whether or not ‘before’ was a tangible, real thing or just implanted memories.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (18)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Life is like an endless road. Sprinkled with pitfalls, choices, regrets, happiness, doubts... so many things that could keep you going... or to end the journey permanently. At every important moment, two paths are open to you. and every path you take will have consequences. This is called the butterfly effect.

But when you look at Danny's life, you quickly notice that he continues on his way even though it should have stopped. Already just during his childhood, he escaped death twice. The violence he suffered because of his "father" almost cost him his life. then when he lost Carla. At first, our dear assassin wanted to end his life before changing his mind at the last moment, feeling unable to do so. That's when the truth came out. That's when his life took a whole different path. And the rest you know.

And there... there is another way opens up. The path you've opened. But how far will this path go? Only time will tell. But one thing is certain: Jed will have to disappear. Danny still can't believe you prefer Jed to him. Such a boring life is almost unbearable! While a life with him... exciting, dangerous is what makes him feel alive! We're going to have to really work on that. As for McKellan.... his time is running out now.

It's all set. All that remains is to wait. Once the discord between him and Hoggins gets to a certain point.... He will strike. It is not in his style or in his habit to blame someone else. But he has to admit that it was fun to make Wilhelm go around in circles. He couldn't wait to see his face when he found out that Danny had put him on a false trail.

“A little romantic dinner, huh? I knew that under those glasses and that nerd look there was a romantic boy.” said Melinda suddenly, bringing Danny out of his thoughts.

Oh, that's right. Have dinner. With you. He sent you a message to see if you'd prefer a restaurant or a meal at his house. And your answer was not long in coming, with a nice touch of humour, you told him that you would like to taste his cooking.  He is not a great Michelin-starred chef but for you he will be able to make a meal worthy of the greatest restaurants. And with a little luck... he will be able to enjoy the softness and warmth of your body for the night... what? Don't forget that he is a man, above all! A man with needs... important carnal needs.

“I may be a nerd, but I'm not an idiot either. And then it was you who told me that I had to think more often about my personal life than professional, right?” said Danny scratching his head.  

“that’s true, but I didn't think you'd listen to me. And also, at home. this story could end well ... If you know what I mean.”  

“Not on the first night. That's not her style. Plus, we're not really ... Together. Maybe tonight will be the beginning of a relationship but... It can also be an embarrassing misunderstanding. I'm not sure it's reciprocal. She can always change her mind...

“Don't start telling you that the war is lost if you haven't fought in one battle! You don't know anything and that's normal! tonight it will be the perfect opportunity for both of you to be sure that it is reciprocal. And if that's the case... then this may be the best night of your life.” replied Melina seriously.

“Yeah, you’re right. I'll see what happens tonight. the boss's plan seems to be working. Apparently Hoggins is going to press charges against the Georgia newspaper. And he's not even aware that we've published it.” said Danny, re-placing his glasses properly.

“The most amazing thing about all this is that Hoggins has a tooth against McKellan! Apparently, he thinks he was the one who sold the wick to the journalist. it's going to create tension...” said Mattew, stretching his arms.

“That's going to spice things up. It can only be beneficial to us. Now don't make mistakes. If hoggins learn that it is us and that in addition they were stolen from his home ... we can say goodbye to life.” said Melina.

Jed nod while Danny smiled slyly. He will be dead long before he tries anything. Because of course Hoggins is going to die. When and how Danny doesn't know, but one thing's for sure: he'll kill him. Then maybe he will consider living somewhere else... You never know. and if he could take you with him... that would be the icing on the cake. He can't wait to see you tonight. More than ever. He wonders what you're going to wear... something soft for sure.  

But it won't be the most interesting... the most interesting will be how the evening will end... He took the opportunity to bite into one of your pastries, since your reopening, you provide the newspaper with pastries and coffee. and everyone appreciates it! But Hembrook is the greediest. His personal order was rather.... Long. the latter passed through the offices, a brownie in hand before stopping in front of our trio.

“Don't forget you have a Ghostface article to write! I'm counting on you my little Jed to get a quality article!” He said with a proud smile.  

“Of course, sir. You can count on me, I'm on my way.” respond Danny with a smile.  

“This little bandit of Wilhelm does not give us much info. Did you find anything on your side?”

“Well... I shouldn't talk to you about it but... I found pictures... really horrible pictures... I didn't think he could do that. I... I dropped them off at your office.. So, you can see it for yourself. But I don't mean to offend you... you had a criminal among your employees.” replied Danny, holding back from smiling.

Two actually, but that, old man, you don't know. Because compared to Mike, Danny is a real cover-up pro.

“Yes... I can imagine the worst. Even though he was a drug addict, I can't even imagine what kind of crap he was doing. I'll be in my office. By the way, you'll tell your friend that I love her cakes! I'll pay for it at the end of the month. At work little kids!

Danny and the others resumed their work, the latter working to catch his article about the drug dealer they recently found. With Mike's murder, it's a big job but it doesn't scare our young reporter. All he cares about is your little face-to-face tonight. Just him and you... both in the same room. The little rabbit trapped by the big bad wolf.

The day passed quickly, the lunch break allowing everyone to take a breather, Danny took the opportunity to watch what he could cook you tonight. A Milanese cutlet with spaghetti was his final choice. He has everything at home to do them. What? Did you expect him to have only sandwiches and ready meals? Danny is a fine mouth and he likes to cook despite his ...bloody inclination. and you're going to be able to see his culinary skills tonight. Actually, Jed's skills from your point of view.

He has to make his alter ego disappear. once and for all. He was tired of being the nice little Jed Olsen. He wanted to be himself. He left his job and came to pick you up as usual. You were exhausted but delighted with this little meal between you. The way home was a laughing as usual and you separated in front of your apartment doors. Danny had three hours in front of him to prepare dinner. He's got plenty of time.

He put his things in his office, took a change, and went to take a good shower. hey he must be presentable tonight! no glasses, no hair tied, it's a very different "Jed" that you're going to see tonight. He left the bathroom, wearing a short-sleeved black T-shirt, black jeans, and grey sneakers. Well, they were white at the base but ... let's say that time has done its work. He was handsome, he knew how to showcase himself, without any artifice. Natural beauty is all that attracted him and made him attractive.

He began to prepare the meal, being careful not to be wrong. He has to make a good impression! if he has calculated his shot correctly, he will have to cook everything when you are there. He'll have a good half hour of conversation with you before he gets to the table. everything was calculated, like his murders. I told you, Danny is meticulously meticulous. Once the meal was ready, just waiting to be baked, Danny prepared the table, simple, sober, but effective. He opened a bottle of wine and tasted it before he smiled. A quality wine for a quality meal.

He placed the bottle on the table and checked that everything was in place and once that was done, made sure that the door of his office was locked. We never know, curiosity is a nasty flaw, and nothing says you won't try to get into it. He barely had time to return to the drawing-room, when he heard knocking at the door. A sneaky smile came to his lips. It's time.

He opened the door, and what he saw left him speechless. You had styled your hair in a beautiful bun, leaving two thin strands of your hair on either side of your face. You had very slightly made-up, very discreet that it does not even seem that you have any. You were dressed in a white and blue striped dress, flesh-colored tights and small navy-blue ballerinas. An angel, you were an angel. And visibly, Danny didn't leave you indifferent either.

“You’re...you’re beautiful.” said Danny, regaining his spirits.

“So are you. I wonder if I'm at the right address. What did you do with the real Jed Olsen?” You said laughing, making Danny laugh at the same time.

“Oh, let's say that when night comes, the little nerd I am is giving way to a perfect gentleman. Especially when I'm in perfect and charming company. But come in, please. The evening will be more pleasant inside than in front of my doormat.”  

“Thank you, my dear little gentleman.” you replied, coming in while Danny smiles slyly, closing the door behind you.  

“dinner is practically ready, but I'm saying we could... chat a little bit. Unless you're really hungry and then I better cook everything before you become a little demonic creature.”

“Really Funny Jed, don’t worry I'm not like Mattew. By the way, everyone enjoyed my cakes?”

“Yeah, especially Mr Hembrook, he's a real glutton, you would have seen him he wouldn't have stopped if you'd brought him more. But keep it to yourself, he's supposed to be watching his line. In fact, his wife does it for him. I met her once and I can confirm that these two there was meant to be together, they are literally day and night. But as they say, opposites attract each other, don't they?”

“It’s true. Melina told me that... that we were all connected to our soulmate in one way or another. and that all our lives we were guided to him or her. After that is it true ... In a sense when I think of my parents, or the Lawsons, I tell myself that it's true. But when I see some couple separating after years of married life.... I tell myself that it doesn't necessarily work every time. Or that we wanted to thwart fate and it put us back on the right path.” You answer shrugging your shoulders, looking at him.  

“Sure...Well, Can I have a drink for you? If I remember correctly, you are not very friendly with alcohol then... Can I buy you a cup of tea? You'll still drink wine at least? just have a drink if you really don't want to, to make me happy.” He asks smiling.

“Yes, for the tea, and just one glass of wine, to make you happy.” You respond, smiling in return.  

Danny serves you a small cup of tea and then give it to you before serving himself and sitting on the couch. You join him and talk for a good half hour. You discuss everything, Danny of his work, you of yours, recalling your little feat of yesterday. Danny smiled, the thought of you mastering this poor fool made him laugh inwardly. Who would have thought that this fragile little body was capable of such a thing? After this half hour of discussions, he got up and put the cutlets into the oven. He pulled out a jug of water that he had put in the fridge, to place it on the table on your side. He then turned on the pan where the spaghetti has cooked to warm them up a little before serving on the plate. Once the cutlets were cooked, he placed them gently on the plate and took them to serve on the table.

“I'm not a great Michelin-starred chef but... I hope you like it.” He said scratching his head.  

“Oh, come on! I'm sure it's very good! Don't underestimate yourself like that! and at worst... You'll be my guinea pig for the next three months.” You respond laughing.

“Well, if it means free cakes...Why not?”

You start eating and he's taking only a bite to congratulate Danny, or rather Jed on his meal. Jed smiled as Danny smiled more widely, of course his cooking was good. He told you, you would be treated like a queen if you preferred him to Jed. The meal went in good spirits, from the dish to the dessert.

“It was really delicious Jed. Thank you. It's been a long time since I've had a... one-on-one with someone. If we ignore the meal, we made at the Chinese restaurant of course. And in the end, you do very well in the kitchen ... Carla was really lucky to have you.” you said smiling.

“Carla taught me everything. If she hadn't helped me with cooking, I would have been a great instant noodle addict.” Danny responds.  

“... There's something I'd like to talk to you about. It's... It's about the two of us. I... I know you can't turn the page since... I mean, you know. But lately, we've both shown signs of affection...”

“We kissed. Twice. The first time was you and the second time was me. And you wonder if... if it's reciprocal on my side. You want to know for sure.” Replied Danny rising from his chair to stand beside you, his eyes staring at yours. He laughs slightly, seeing you nodding, blushing.  “It's true that... I'm having a hard time moving on. Carla... was everything to me. She was the only one who didn't treat me like... someone different. And since we've known each other, I've felt that way again. So, if that can answer your question...”  

He kissed you, without warning, and this time the kiss lasted longer. The softness of her lips added to the softness of his... It's a double feeling of silk touch, both for him and for you. As he was about to release you, Danny was surprised when, against all odds, you kissed him again, not wanting to let go of his lips for a second. Both eventually backed off and a smile was exchanged between the two of you.

“Is that okay with that answer?” he simply asks.

“Yes. You know I don't promise to be the perfect girlfriend...”

“I don’t promise to be the perfect boyfriend too. We're probably going to fight one day. For anything and everything. But know that if you have problems ... I'll be there. I won't let anyone near you. To hurt you, of course.”

“Me too. I... I’m started to be tired. I'm going to go to bed.” you replied, rising up and starting to walk you to the door. Danny hugged you and kissed you one last time.

“Good night my love. Have sweet dreams.” He simply said.

He let you go and addressed his angelic smile when you close the door. He cleared it all, wash the dishes, changed and went to bed. Looking at the ceiling he let himself be dragged by sleep. No stalking tonight. But in his mind one thing was clear:

When it all ends. When no one is on his way, whether it's McKellan, Hoggins, or those who will approach you... He'll have to be the only one in your eyes. Jed will have to disappear.  

FOREVER.

***

(Done! well I took my time and start writing only since Wednesday, but I did it! I hope you’ll like it like the others! time for me to rest this week-end! have a good week-end everyone! See ya!)

[ircnwrought]

Natasha headcanons → Names and diminutives

Natasha was born on Russian Orthodox Christmas (Jan 7), thus earning her the name “Natalia,” or “Christmas Day.” However, her mother also believed in giving each of her children Vietnamese names to celebrate the other side of their heritage. Natasha’s family name was “Nguyet,” or “Moon.” However, after she joined the Red Room, this name was redacted from her file and she did not know of it until much later after her defection. It is rare that she goes by it. Had Natasha’s parents survived the fire when she was a baby, she would have likely been referred to as “Natalia Alianovna” formally, “Natasha” to friends, and “Nguyet” at home. Vindikator, aka Natasha’s brother Konstantin, also used the name “Nguyet” when he first confronted her.

Upon joining the Red Room, her formal name was “Natalia Ivanovna,” a reference to her handler Ivan Petrovich, and the implanted memories capitalized on this and used the name “Natalia Ivanovna Petrova.” Before her defection and subsequent realization that she was not a bolshoi ballerina, Natasha embraced the Petrova identity.  Her husband Alexei (and in my MCU verses, Alexei/Melina/Yelena) used the diminutive “Nata.” If you know her as “Nata,” you are EXTREMELY special to her. The only other person who might know or use this name is Bucky Barnes.

When choosing what name she would use in her new life after defecting, she settled on the most common diminutive of Natalia (”Natasha”), because it had no previous connotation to her life. Even using the name Natalia is very intimate with her and identifies you as someone she has let into her life by mentioning her past and shows an immense trust in the other person.

TL;DR: someone can only refer to Natasha as Natalia if they are extremely good friends and Nata is practically off-limits unless you are someone she loves or has loved. Nguyet is hardly used at all, though she is learning to embrace it as a link to her family.

[doubleattitude]

JUMP Dance Convention, Baltimore, MD: RESULTS

High Scores by Age:

JUMPstart Solo:

1st: Natalie McCue-’In Your Head’

2nd: Ja’Khari May-’Kiss Kiss’

3rd: Parker Zaicko-’Dreams to Dream’

3rd: Sadie Cuiksa-’Pony Tail’

4th: Vivien Wease-’Here Comes The Sun’

5th: Harlin Davis-’Working Day and Night’

6th: Hadley Everson-’Confident’

7th: Zooey DeYoe-’Whip It’

8th: Isabelle Glanville-’Her Dream’

Mini Solo

1st: Ellie Melchior-’Function’

1st: Kya Massimino-’I Go Crazy’

1st: Barrett Robison-’Ping’

2nd: Camryn Studebaker-’When Everything Fades’

3rd: Katherine Khait-’Aura’

3rd: Lily Planck-’She’s A Lady’

4th: Arabella Keller-’Marathon’

4th: Mya Fernandez-’What A Wonderful World’

5th: Santiago Sosa-’Becoming’

6th: Melania Khait-’I Dreamed A Dream’

7th: Kendal Llaneza-’Come and Get Your Love’

8th: Parker Adair-’New Attitude’

8th: Farrah Long-’Say Something’

9th: Marina Snyder-’Big Time’

10th: Alex Wisniewski-’Carry You’

10th: Addison Bleicher-’Growing Pains’

10th: Lyla Norby-’Little Bird’

10th: Charlotte Hale-’The Little Ballerina’

Junior Solo

1st: Ava D’Ambrosio-’Remembrance’

1st: Cameron Voorhees-’Unplug’

2nd: Emmeline Gerardi-’In The Middle of This Nowhere’

3rd: Kate Riordan-’Absence’

3rd: Xyla Maddox-’Ain’t No Sunshine’

3rd: Ava Buckhalt-’Time After Time’

4th: Mariah Barbee-’Creation’

5th: Nadia Wilde-’Goodmorning Midnight’

5th: Nadia Gift-’Hound Dog’

5th: Francesa O’Brien-’The Stars’

6th: Scarlet Sperry-’In Roses’

6th: Addison Cullather-’Tangent’

7th: Lexi Pawelchak-’Red Violin’

7th: Natalie Hoffman-’She Remembers’

7th: Ava Leahey-’The White Light’

8th: Gabrielle Schetelich-’I Am Your Shadow’

8th: Daniella Sanchez-’Pulse’

8th: Lyla Ferguson-’Sincerely Jane’

8th: Bella Rose Penrose-’Spine’

9th: Luna Powell-’1977′

9th: Braelyn Ramseyer-’Clumsy’

9th: Evie Parish-’Fireflies’

9th: Chloe Hyatt-’Smokey Taboo’

10th: Camdyn Fry-’Arch Angel’

10th: Meriko King-’Dirty Diana’

10th: Madeline Anderson-’Eternally Yours’

10th: Sadie Ruane-’I Feel For You’

10th: Brooke Marshall-’Maybe We’ll See’

Teen Solo

1st: Ellen Grace Olansen-’Ghost’

2nd: Hannah Sullivan-’Exhale’

2nd: Ava Wease-’My Future’

2nd: Natalia Wazio-’The Gift’

3rd: Makenzie Hill-’Gimme All Your Love’

4th: Maddy Collins-’Distortion’

4th: Kennedi Washington-’Epilogue’

5th: Ava Carroll-’Are You Sure’

5th: Ayla Flowers-’The Waiting Room’

6th: Madison Marshall-’Icon’

6th: Elyse Wingertsahn-’Love Me Tender’

6th: Gillian Gordon-’Ungathered’

7th: Toryn Hester-’Freak On’

7th: Ava Paliotta-’I Would Give My Breath Away’

7th: Taylor Fry-’Moonlight’

7th: Logan Speer-’Tripped Out Slim’

8th: Victoria Reith-’Departures’

8th: Madelyn Beckman-’Vow’

8th: Nyah Lastrapes-’We Never Saw It Coming’

8th: Ava Raucci-’When Things Fall Apart’

9th: Shay Kaminski-’Love and Respect’

9th: Kate Petrilli-’Neglected Space’

10th: Lily Shirley-’Aloha Friday’

10th: Olivia Schetelich-’Elegy’

10th: Renee Bergeron-’Inside’

10th: Julissa Ortiz-’Never Knock’

10th: Olivia Bowman-’Valis’

Senior Solo

1st: Caden Hunter-’Bionic’

1st: Kayla Mak-’Tuesday’

2nd: Gionna D’Alessandro-’Wish You Were Here’

3rd: Emma Cook-’Unputdownable’

4th: Kylie Chamberlain-’For All We Know’

4th: Angelina Velardi-’Mercy’

4th: Paloma Santos-’My Baby Shot Me Down’

5th: Savannah Quiner-’Escape’

5th: Carly Futrick-’Seduces Me’

5th: Annalise Hofman-’She Comes and Goes’

5th: John Chappell-’Shell’

6th: Cassidy Reigel-’16 Tons’

6th: Raegan Himmelwright-’At Your Doorstep’

6th: Wesley Cloud-’Don’t Leave Me Now’

6th: Emma Simons-’Lilac Wine’

6th: Melina Dalton-’Mangos’

6th: Bayler Glenn-’Undertow’

6th: Brianna Brickerd-’We Were Sparkling’

7th: Sophie Verrecchia-’Passing Memory’

7th: Bethany Grzymala-’Wrong Direction’

8th: Yana Sologub-’A New Day’

8th: Cailey Solano-’Before My Time’

8th: Rayna Tyler-’Embraceable You’

8th: Annie Adams-’Lady’

8th: Lauren Mendes-’Machina’

9th: Breanna Ottinger-’Par Amour’

9th: Samantha Zgombic-’Woah’

10th: Taylor Mitcham-’Faith’

10th: Brooke Manchester-’Go’

JUMPstart Duo/Trio

1st: Valley Dance Theatre-’Together’

Mini Duo/Trio

1st: C-Unit Studio-’Rich Girls’

2nd: C-Unit Studio-’Rainbow’

3rd: C-Unit Studio-’Knock On Wood’

Junior Duo/Trio

1st: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Moonlight’

2nd: SI Dance LLC-’Small Leaf’

3rd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Nightmare’

Teen Duo/Trio

1st: RPM Dance-’I Wish’

2nd: RPM Dance-’Friends’

3rd: Valley Dance Theatre-’MAY’

Senior Duo/Trio

1st: Prestige Academy of Dance-’New York is A Desert’

2nd: Savage Dance Company-’Fade Into You’

3rd: PowerUp Dance Center-’The Wisp Sings’

JUMPstart Group

1st: ZD Dance Academy-’Tutti Frutti’

2nd: ZD Dance Academy-’Who Let The Frogs Out’

Mini Group

1st: Encore Studio-’Uptown Girl’

2nd: Encore Studio-’Windowdipper’

3rd: C-Unit Studio-’On Fire’

Junior Group

1st: C-Unit Studio-’Bugaboo’

2nd: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Song For A Friend’

3rd: C-Unit Studio-’Funkytown’

Teen Group

1st: Encore Studio-’Kinjabang’

2nd: Valley Dance Theatre-’Arms Outstretched’

3rd: PowerUp Dance Center-’Cessation’

3rd: C-Unit Studio-’Ladies’

Senior Group

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Fade’

2nd: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’I Feel Pretty Perplexed’

3rd: C-Unit Studio-’At 17, 20 & 27′

JUMPstart Line

1st: Encore Studio-’Conga’

Mini Line

1st: Encore Studio-’Truth’

2nd: Valley Dance Theatre-’Ease On Down’

Junior Line

1st: Encore Studio-’Turn to Stone’

2nd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Seasons’

3rd: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’We Get’s Up’

Teen Line

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Mack the Knife’

2nd: C-Unit Studio-’Gimmie Dat’

3rd: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’House of Sails’

Senior Line

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’After Dark’

2nd: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Maybe It’s Just Me’

JUMPstart Extended Line

1st: ZD Dance Academy-’At The Playground��

Mini Extended Line

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’I Just Wanna Be Happy’

2nd: Encore Studio-’Vibeology’

Junior Extended Line

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’My Dearest Friend’

2nd: Encore Studio-’Ice Me Out’

Teen Extended Line

1st: C-Unit Studio-’Love Shack’

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Vibeology’

2nd: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Still’

3rd: C-Unit Studio-’Wanted’

Teen Production

1st: Encore Studio-’Cardi’

2nd: RPM Dance-’Once On This Island’

High Scores by Performance Division:

JUMPstart Jazz

1st: Encore Studio-’Conga’

JUMPstart Hip-Hop

1st: ZD Dance Academy-’At The Playground’

JUMPstart Tap

1st: ZD Dance Academy-’Tutti Frutti’

JUMPstart Acro

1st: ZD Dance Academy-’Who Let The Frogs Out’

Mini Jazz

1st: Encore Studio-’Uptown Girl’ 2nd: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’I Just Wanna Be Happy’ 3rd: Encore Studio-’Vibeology’

Mini Hip-Hop

1st: C-Unit Studio-’On Fire’ 2nd: RPM Dance-’Unity’

Mini Tap

1st: RPM Dance-’Sunday Best’ 2nd: C-Unit Studio-’Happy’

Mini Contemporary

1st: Encore Studio-’Windowdipper’ 2nd: Encore Studio-’Truth’

Mini Musical Theatre

1st: Valley Dance Theatre-’Ease on Down’

Junior Jazz

1st: C-Unit Studio-’Funkytown’ 2nd: Encore Studio-’It’s About That Walk’ 3rd: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’We Get’s Up’

Junior Ballet

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Springtime Waltz’ 2nd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Andante Affetuoso’

Junior Hip-Hop

1st: Encore Studio-’Ice Me Out’ 1st: C-Unit Studio-’Bugaboo’ 2nd: DanceWorx Dance Company-’Flawless’

Junior Tap

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’My Dearest Friend’ 2nd: C-Unit Studio-’Love’

Junior Contemporary

1st: Encore Studio-’Turn to Stone’ 2nd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Hound Dog’ 2nd: C-Unit Studio-’Rowboats’ 3rd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Summer’

Junior Lyrical

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Song For A Friend’ 2nd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Seasons’ 3rd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’I Will Always Love You’

Teen Jazz

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Vibeology’ 1st: C-Unit Studio-’Love Shack’ 2nd: Encore Studio-’Just Say’ 3rd: Encore Studio-’Shake and Pop’ 3rd: C-Unit Studio-’Ladies’

Teen Ballet

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Apres Minuit’

Teen Hip-Hop

1st: C-Unit Studio-’Gimmie Dat’ 2nd: C-Unit Studio-’Wanted’ 3rd: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Tell ‘Em’ 3rd: Encore Studio-’Yikes’

Teen Tap

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’House of Sails’ 2nd: Encore Studio-’Cardi’ 3rd: RPM Dance-’Only A Fool’

Teen Contemporary

1st: Encore Studio-’Kinjabang’ 2nd: Valley Dance Theatre-’Arms Outstretched’ 2nd: Encore Studio-’Sadness’ 3rd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Eleanor Rigby’ 3rd: Encore Studio-’Awake’ 3rd: PowerUp Dance Center-’Cessation’

Teen Lyrical

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Still’ 2nd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Vienna’ 3rd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Jolene’

Teen Musical Theatre

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Mack the Knife’ 2nd: RPM Dance-’Hamilton’ 3rd: RPM Dance-’Once On This Island’

Teen Specialty

1st: C-Unit Studio-’Rhapsody In Black and White’ 2nd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’My Way’ 3rd: Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Ghostbusters’

Senior Jazz

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Fade’ 1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Maybe It’s Just Me’ 2nd: RPM Dance-’Trust’ 3rd: Show Tyme Academy-’What Kind of Man’

Senior Tap

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’I Feel Pretty Perplexed’ 2nd: C-Unit Studio-’Don’t Stop Me Now’ 3rd: Ovations Studios-’Lean On’

Senior Contemporary

1st: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’After Dark’ 2nd: C-Unit Studio-’At 17, 20 & 27′ 3rd: Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’All Those Things You Told Me To Wait For’

Senior Specialty

1st: Show Tyme Academy-’Only An Expert’ 2nd: DanceWorx Dance Company-’Dream State’

Best of JUMP:

JUMPstart

ZD Dance Academy-’At The Playground’

Encore Studio-’Conga’

Mini

C-Unit Studio-’On Fire’

Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’I Just Wanna Be Happy’

Encore Studio-’Uptown Girl’

Junior

C-Unit Studio-’Bugaboo’

Encore Studio-’Ice Me Out’

Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’My Dearest Friend’

Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Seasons’

Teen

Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’Mack the Knife’

Encore Studio-’Kinjabang’

Valley Dance Theatre-’Arms Outstretched’

PowerUp Dance Center-’Cessation’

RPM Dance-’Hamilton’

Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Eleanor Rigby’

C-Unit Studio-’Gimmie Dat’

Senior

C-Unit Studio-’At 17, 20 & 27′

Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’After Dark’

Best In Studio:

Turning Pointe Dance Academy-’Eleanor Rigby’

C-Unit Studio-’Gimmie Dat’

DanceWorx Dance Company-’Dear Anxiety’

Denise Wall’s Dance Energy-’After Dark’

Encore Studio-’Uptown Girl’

RPM Dance-’Hamilton’

Show Tyme Academy-’What Kind of Man’

[amixedwitch]

i haven't, like, expanded on the concept as much as i usually do - it's just the idea of sugar daddy!neville? or maybe i just want neville as a rich bf??? idk i feel like he'd be generous and pamper you if he had cash to burn

i think the reason this idea came up is bc i'm selling those sweater vests so money is on the mind lmao

hmmm I always saw him as the one who would insist on paying for EVERYTHING just because he likes being generous! But it’s not flashy… like a casual “it’s on me” energy.

[enchantingkittengaditor]

The Third Maximoff | Chapter 16

Summary: What if the Avengers didn’t find the last HYDRA base? What if Pietro and Wanda weren’t the only enhanced? Or Maximoff’s? What if the Avengers were going to take on their greatest challenge yet? What if she was a 13-year-old girl who had to live with them? What if she once tried to kill Clint and Nat, and nobody knew but them?

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Slight mentions Torture and Swearing, Infinity War and Endgame Spoilers, VORMIR

“Fine, Yulia. It's that bad,” Bruce said.

“Yeah,” Val told him, “I’ll look after Yulia for you, I know Nat is terrifying to you.”

After a few minutes of catching up with each other, I asked her to tell Banner and Rocket I was going and jumped until I was on Nat’s quinjet.

“So, Clint went insane and is now a serial killer?” I asked as I took a seat next to her.

“So glad you could join me. And no, well yes but he has his reasons, like any of us.”

“OK, so not a serial killer, just a killer who kills other killers. Because that makes everything OK,” I told her, raising an eyebrow.

“If you kill a killer the number of killers in the world remains the same. If you kill more than one the number goes down,” she said landing the plane.

“But revenge isn't a path well travelled by anyone.”

“We need a better hobby than finding random sayings on the internet.”

“Or we could do this mission and save the world, my world,” I said thinking back to the last time I spoke to Wanda on our girls night before she disappeared.

“I get it, you want your sister back. But we need my friend back to get her and the others back.”

“Why can’t life be easy?”

“Because a life worth living is a life hard fought.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I get it Nat. Fight for what you believe in, don’t trust the government and stark is an idiot. Any other life lessons you want to teach me or can we catch us a serial killer?” I asked her.

“Not today. And for the last time he’s not a serial killer.”

“He has killed multiple people that he had no connection with, correct?”

“Yes?”

“He’s a serial killer. That’s the definition of a serial killer.”

“Then I’m one too, little Maximoff.”

“So am I and your point is?” Then I came to a realization, “Was that meant to scare me?”

“Why do I get stuck on watching duty?” I whined to Tony and Steve.

“Because we don’t know what this will do to your developing brain,” Steve told me as I glared at him.

“Plus, we don’t like you,” Tony said to me when Steve walked away.

“Steve! Natasha! Tony’s being mean to me!” I screamed, acting like a child.

“Tony play nice, she’s just a kid,” Nat told him.

“Why do they side with you?” he asked me.

“I’m sweet, nice and I make cookies for them,” I told him, “The way to the captain’s heart is through chocolate chip cookies.”

“Steve, she’s a bitch,” Tony said, moving away from me.

“Language!” I yelled back going to the briefing room ready for the briefing.

“Okay, so the "how" works. Now we gotta figure out the when and the where. Almost all of us has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones,” Steve told the team.

“Well I'd substitute the word encounter for damn well near been killed by one of the six Infinity Stones,” Tony spoke up.

“I nearly destroyed one,” I said, shrugging.

“We only have enough Pym Particles for one round trip each, and these stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history,” Bruce said.

“Our history. So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in,” Tony added.

“Which means we have to pick our targets,” Clint told the room.

“Correct,” Tony replied.

“Let's start with the Aether. Thor, what do you know?” Steve said as all of our heads turned to Thor in the corner, with his sunglasses on it was impossible to tell if he was asleep or not.

“Is he asleep?” Nat asked.

“No I think he’s dead,” Rhodey replied.

“I’ll find out,” I told them, picking up a pen and throwing it across the room at him, hitting him square on the head.

He woke up straight after and I could feel him glaring at me, “Where to start? Umm... The Aether, first, is not a stone, someone called it a stone before. It's more of a... an angry sludge thing, so... someones gonna need to amend that. Here's an interesting story though, many years ago... My grandfather had to hide the stones from the Dark Elves…” He wiggles his fingers to imitate a spooky ghost, “Wooooh, scary beings. So Jane, oh, there she is. That's Jane... She's... an old flame of mine... She... she stuck her hand inside a rock this one time... and then the Aether stuck itself inside her... And, she became very, very sick. So I had to take her to Asgard, which is where I'm from. And we had to try and fix her. We were dating at the time, you see. I got to introduce her to my Mother... who's dead,” he started to look broken, and seemed on the verge of tears, “and oh you know, Jane and I aren't even dating anymore, these things happen though you know, nothing last forever,” Tony started to push him back to his chair in an attempt to quieten him, “I'm not done yet, the only thing permanent in life is impermanence.”

“Awesome. Eggs? Breakfast?” Tony asked the group.

“I'd like a Bloody Mary, thank you,” Thor said as I scoffed.

“And I’d like my family to be alive and yet here we are,” I told him getting up to go to the kitchen, “So do it yourself, asshole.”

“Quill said he stole the Power Stone from Morag,” Rocket said, pacing on the table.

“Is that a person?” Scott said while I played on my phone.

“Morag's a planet. Quill was a person,” Rocket snapped out.

“A planet? Like in outer space?” Scott looked like a small boy going to go to the museum for the first time.

“Oh, look. It's like a little puppy, all happy and everything. [Imitating talking to a puppy] Do you wanna go to space? You wanna go to space, puppy? I'll get you to space,” Rocket said to Scott as I raised my hand and he high five me.

“Oh god why were you two introduced,” Nat muttered into her fork.

“Thanos found the Soul Stone on Vormir,” Nebula informed us back in the meeting room.

“What is Vormir?” Natasha asked seriously, taking notes with me.

“A dominion of death, at the very center of Celestial existence. It's where... Thanos murdered my sister,” Nebula told her. Nat looked up, and an awkward silence fell upon the room. She writes what Nebula has just said.

“Not it,” Scott tried to joke to the crowd.

Nat and Tony were laying on the table with all of their papers scattered around them, while Bruce was on the floor and I was lounging in the desk chair, braiding Nat’s hair. When the time stone popped up on the monitor.

“That Time Stone guy…” Nat started.

“Doctor Strange,” Bruce spoke.

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?” I asked the group.

“Ear-nose-throat meets rabbit from a hat,” Tony told me.

“Nice place in the village, though,” Bruce said awkwardly.

“Yeah. Sullivan Street,” Tony said.

“Hmm... Bleecker,” Bruce corrected him.

“Wait, he lived in New York?” Nat asked looking up at me seeing if I connected the dots.

“No. He lived in Toronto,” Tony said.

“Guys, if you pick the right year, there are three stones in New York,” Me and Natasha said in unison.

“Shut the front door,” Bruce said, sitting up faster than I ever could.

“How many Phd.s do you have between you again? Because it sure seems like a teenage girl and a former ballerina outsmarted two of the smartest people in the world,” I said cheekily.

“So you guys have a plan?” Steve asked standing in the doorway.

“We sure do,” I told him, there was a gnawing thought at the back of my mind but I wasn’t sure what it was.

As they all walked into the hanger I had to yell at them, the urge was not something I couldn’t overcome.

“STOP BEING SO DRAMATIC!” I screeched at them, “You’re not models your superheros who have to go and save my sister and everyone else who went snap. OK this is not the time for drama this is the time for action and if I can’t come with you, you’re going to do this as though I’m hunting you down until you get the stones. Kapeesh?”

“Yes ma’am,” Steve told me, while some of the others looked at me scared.

“I like you,” Nebula told me.

“So do I,” said Rocket.

“Love you little one, I’ll see you real soon,” Nat said to me as they all climbed the stairs to their doom.

“Wait!” I said causing everyone to stop, “Can I have a hug, Nat?”

“Sure, come here,” She said as I ran up to her, giving her a hug that I hoped conveyed how much I love her and look up to her, “I love you, Yulia. If anything happens to me you know where everything is buried and I want you to find Yelena and Melina and give them the boxes marked for them. And you and Wanda get my apartment in little Odessa. Everything will be OK. I’ll be OK. But if I’m not you have to move on and be brave for me. I love you Yulia, you're like my little sister.” She spoke to me softly in Russian.

“OK, but if anything happens to you, I’m killing whoever is responsible or guiltiest,” I told her going down the steps.

“Yulia, go to the control room and flick the switch, we’ve got it from there,” Bruce told her as she walked away.

“Cool. I love you Nat, Steve, little raccoon thing! Nebula, keep being a badass!” I yelled, flicking the switch as Steve gave the team a pep talk.

When they arrived back a minute later, I stood up. I then noticed something. Nat. Where was Natasha?

“W...W...Nat?” I screamed at Clint trying to calm my breath, “She said you would protect her, that you would make sure her fate changed! She knew she was going to her doom and she thought you would stop it! That’s why we came to find you! YOU BASTARD! YOU WERE MEANT TO KEEP HER SAFE!! AND WHERE IS SHE ASSHOLE! WHERE IS NAT! WHERE IS MY MENTOR,” I kept yelling at him while Steve ran up to me to calm me down.

“It’s OK Yulia, she might be late and anyway I’m sure Clint tried his hardest,” He tried to sooth me as I cried into his shoulder giving up on yelling at Clint.

“I don’t think he did, I really don’t think he did, Steve,” I cried.

“It’s OK, just breathe. It’ll be OK, it’ll be OK. We can bring her back. And Wanda and maybe Pietro,” Tony told me.

“Kid, I’m sorry,” Clint said as I tried to grab Nebula’s sword to stab him but Steve stopped me.

“Violence isn’t the answer, Yulia. What would Nat do?” Steve asked me.

“She’d get revenge, Steve. She’d forgive and then stab him like Brutus did to Caesar,” I said looking up at him hurt. Natasha was my only family left, none of these other people had become family. So what was I meant to do now? My parents are dead. My sister’s gone. Pietro’s gone. Kat, Ruby both gone. Now Nat. Who do I have left in this world? Steve? Not really, sure he’s kinda like a brother but he doesn’t know russian and he doesn’t know what the experiments feel like when not done in safe american labs. Tony? No he hates my guts. Carol? She’s in space too much. Kate. I still have Kate, though currently I don’t know where she is or if she’s alive since the last time I spoke to her.

I have no one. SO I have nothing to lose. If this doesn’t work I can find Kate and hope she and Steve can become my family, but if it does I might have everyone back except my parents. I have to make that happen, I just can’t have ghost Nat appear otherwise she’s actually dead, well as dead as Pietro which isn’t very dead. I mean it’s deader than Wanda but still not that dead.

Death’s confusing truly.

I was spiralling at this point, on the floor of the hanger just waiting for it all to dissolve into the stream of consciousness when Steve spoke to me, “Yulia why don’t I take you to Nat’s room and you can have a nap while we discuss this as adults?” All I could do was nod in response and try to push myself off the ground unsuccessfully. “Don’t worry I can carry you,” Steve told me as he picked me up, my brain still whirling at the thought of Nat being dead.

Once I was in her room and Steve was sure that I was safe I got up and walked over to her closet to see the message she told me to look at in a situation like this, it brought a smile to my face: “A Widow Never Really Dies Yulia, and I will always be with you in your heart. I love you little M.”

“A widow never really dies,” I muttered to myself curling up in her old winter coats for a nap. It smelt of her that’s the only reason I did it truly. I miss her so much.

Tags: @hollandroos​, @hollandarling​