You can call me Rui <3 Welcome to my lil corner of the gay internet 🌹
I've been writing for years under different names but this is the first time I'm committing to a handle. I mainly write for the MCU women (90% Natasha) but sometimes I write for other sapphics too- 🙂↕️
21++ | She/her | Bisexual | INFJ | English is indeed not my first language 🫡 I have a life outside of writing so updates are never consistent 😔
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Pairing: Sugar Mommies Cait & Vi x Sugar Baby Reader
Words: 4236
Synopsis: You come to a much-needed realisation about your life now; and another new face comes to town
Warnings: None
When you and Cait finally emerged from the bedroom corridor, you were blissfully following along behind Cait as she held your hand. You couldn’t control your dopey smile as Cait led you back into the living room, popped you onto the couch, and took your tea to warm back up.
The difference in your mood was definitely noticeable.
Your shoulders were no longer quite so tense; the uncertainty that had clouded your expression earlier had faded considerably, replaced by something softer and more familiar; a genuine smile spread across your cheeks, brightening your face.
The living room itself had descended into a sort of controlled chaos. Powder was sitting upside-down on the sofa across from the large one you were seated on, Ekko next to her, his arm resting over her stomach.
“You’re back,” Powder announced.
Cait picked up her own mug of tea, taking both of yours to the kitchen area and placing them in the microwave to heat up. “We weren’t gone long; we were making up your room.”
Vi smiled at you, then paused. She was clearly taking in your more relaxed expression, your at-ease posture. She glanced over to Cait, then back to you, then back to Cait.
From the kitchen, the blue-haired woman gave her Wife a small, secret wink.
Vi immediately understood, her grin widening, which she quickly hid behind her hand.
You, thankfully, missed the entire exchange. Because you were being cornered by Powder.
“Okay,” she declared, shifting into a more upright position against her boyfriend. “Now that you’ve recovered from meeting me-”
“I wasn’t recovering,” you denied.
“You absolutely were.”
Vi put in, “Powder…”
“I’m very overwhelming.”
“That’s so true,” Ekko said.
Powder gasped dramatically. “Traitor.”
A soft laugh escaped you. The nervousness from earlier hadn’t vanished entirely, but it no longer felt overwhelming.
The penthouse suddenly felt familiar again.
The introduction had happened, the scary part was over.
And now, with the initial shock behind you, you could actually focus on getting to know Vi’s little sister and her boyfriend.
Powder, meanwhile, had apparently decided she already liked you. “So, Y/N, Vi’s told us nothing useful about you.”
Vi rolled her eyes.
“Come on, spill. Tell us everything. Dogs or cats? Favourite type of cheese? Favourite ancient philosopher?”
Cait returned with your teas. Sitting down next to you on the sofa, she draped her arm around your waist, sipping her drink that was now the perfect temperature.
You took your tea from her, and inhaled slowly. “Okay… Here goes…”
“So, that went okay…” Vi smirked, climbing into bed beside you.
You stopped scrolling on your phone, your head resting against Cait’s shoulder. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess it did?”
She leant over and kissed you. “I’m proud of you, baby.”
“I went blank.”
“Only because you were surprised,” she refuted, wrapping her arm around your hips under the covers. “When you came back, you were perfect.”
“After Cait made me feel better,” you blushed.
Vi chuckled. “Tell me what she did.”
Your cheeks flushed harder. “Well… You can guess.”
“Oh, I know she made our sweet girl come, but I want to know what she did.”
You swallowed thickly. “She used her fingers.”
“Oooh, did she?” Vi started running her fingertips up your thigh, nudging your sleep shorts higher. “And that made you come?”
“She didn’t squirt, though,” Cait pouted, slipping your phone out of your hands, and putting both your and her phones on the bedside table.
Vi tutted playfully. “Naughty girl. You know you’re supposed to soak our hands.”
“Should we make her do it now, Violet?” Cait asked, shifting next to you and starting to place kisses along your shoulder and neck.
The butch hummed. “I think our girl needs some more practice with the strap. If she’s good and makes me cum, she can have her turn. Otherwise…”
Cait chuckled. “Otherwise she doesn’t get to cum tonight? Oh, I like that.”
You whimpered. “Wait, that’s not fair. I’m still learning!”
Vi slipped out of the bed and headed over to the toy box. Cait slipped her hand around your throat, tugging on your ear lobe with her teeth.
“Well, this will be a good motivation for you, won’t it? Now, come on, darling; time to practice.”
The shopping trip had been your idea, as you were finding that you desperately needed new clothes.
You had planned the afternoon with Mel a week ago, before you knew of Powder’s and Ekko’s visit – or even existence. You’d asked Cait and Vi that morning what you should do about it, as you weren’t sure what the plan was now that you had visitors.
But they had told you to go. Cait was going to work from home for the morning, just to tidy things up so she could have a few days off at such short notice, and Vi was going to take your guests out for the day until Cait was free to join them. You were welcome to tag along after your shopping spree, but the three of you knew you would most likely wait for them all to come home. You would have dinner ready for them when they did, which Cait and Vi were fine with.
Which was how you found yourself standing in the middle of a private dressing room in an expensive lingerie shop while the fitter measured you from various angles.
You glared at yourself in the mirror and sighed dramatically. “I can’t believe I’ve actually put on so much weight that I need new bras,” you grumbled. “Bras are supposed to survive anything!”
Mel looked up from her phone. “What are you talking about, ‘so much weight’?” She looked over your body intensely. “Angel, you don’t look any different.”
You shook your head and cried, “Tell that to everything I own! Tops, jeans, dresses... And now my bras!” You looked down at the peach-coloured garment currently preserving your modesty. “This was my favourite bra, I’ve had it years.”
The assistant smiled at you cheekily. “I can tell.” She tucked her measuring tape into her pocket. “You’ve gone up one band and two cup sizes. I’ll go get some options for you.”
You gawked at the lady as she stepped out of the dressing room, discreetly closing the door behind her.
“A band and two cups?” you gaped, staring down at your chest.
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” your friend joked.
You glared at her. “The straps aren’t real, Mel.”
“Unfortunately for you.” She smirked back at you. “What do Cait and Vi say about your...” her eyes trailed down to your chest, “New offerings?”
You frowned. “Nothing, not one word! The traitors! Two cup sizes is definitely noticeable!”
But she just chuckled. “I wouldn’t expect them to complain about their girlfriend’s growing breasts and bum. You seriously expected them to criticise your body for minute changes when they’re both helplessly in love with you? They might as well complain about their steaks being too juicy. Your ass looks fantastic, by the way.”
“Nothing fits me anymore. I liked my old clothes.”
“You can still wear most of your old clothes, you never really wore anything skin-tight.”
“Not comfortably.”
Mel placed her hand on your arm. “Angel, I’ve never seen you happier or healthier, and we’ve known each other since pre-school.”
You looked back at her face, your eyes feeling a little damp.
“You’re healthy; you’re eating better; you’re not constantly stuck in fight-or-flight; you’re getting better rest… You’re actually able to enjoy your life now. Changes to your body are perfectly normal in those circumstances. Cait and Vi know all this, and I can guarantee that they do not care. At all.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Then Mel smiled. “And for what it’s worth, it genuinely isn’t noticeable. I had no idea until you told me.”
You blinked away some tears. “Really?”
“Really.”
The frustration you’d been carrying all afternoon eased. Not completely, as you still needed a lot of new clothes. But perhaps the situation wasn’t quite as catastrophic as you’d been making out.
By the time you returned to the penthouse that evening, you were carrying enough shopping bags to suggest you had personally attempted to stimulate Piltover’s economy.
The afternoon with Mel had been expensive. Not outrageously expensive – at least not by Cait's and Vi's standards – but certainly more expensive than you were accustomed to spending on yourself in one afternoon. There were several new bras and dozens of pairs of underwear in various styles; jeans; tops; dresses and skirts; and various other items Mel had steadily piled into your arms.
The lift finally deposited you at the penthouse floor, and you made your way through the living space, shopping bags bumping gently against your legs. Your home was empty as you crossed through to the bedroom corridor, dropping off all your bags in the main bedroom.
You freshened up in the bathroom, then headed back out to start preparing a lasagne for dinner for everyone.
Soft classical music filled the kitchen when the elevator dinged from the entryway, announcing everyone’s return. Although Vi’s and Powder’s loud and excitable voices did that first.
“Y/N? We’re home!” Vi called.
“In here!” you returned, turning off the heat under the pan of meat sauce that had been slowly simmering away.
Bodies turned the corner from the entryway corridor, and the penthouse suddenly burst with life.
Something you were still getting used to.
“Hi, darling,” Cait cooed softly, coming over to you and kissing the side of your head. She wrapped her arms around you from behind. “Did you have fun with Mel?”
You nodded, scooping out the first meat layer into the dish. “Uh-huh.”
She kissed your neck. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable. I’ll be right back. Okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah.”
Cait noticed your short answers, but didn’t address it immediately. She kissed your shoulder again, stepping away, and heading down the corridor after Powder and Ekko who were announcing that they were going to shower before dinner.
Vi hummed happily, taking her turn to approach you. “Hmm, that buys us a little time. How are you, baby?”
“Good, good,” you said, a little distracted as you placed the dry pasta sheets onto the first layer of meat.
“Smells fantastic,” Vi complimented, wrapping her arms around you from behind. “I don’t mean the food, sweetheart,” she chuckled in your ear.
You smiled softly, your mood lifting little by little. “What did you all get up to?”
Vi started regaling you with the tails of their day and everything they did together. At one point you gave her a small mouthful of grated cheese as you sprinkled some on the layer of cheese sauce, earning a happy moan and a soft squeeze of your waist.
“Cheese tax,” she joked.
Cait came back down the corridor, changed into a soft pyjama set, her makeup removed. “Did you buy the entire shopping centre, darling?” she teased.
You grumbled as you started on the next meat layer. “No. Just a lot of it.”
They both chuckled light-heartedly as Cait started making a pitcher of fruity cocktails for everyone.
“You’re both traitors, you know.”
Your comment made them both freeze.
Cait stepped closer, the empty pitcher still in her hand. “Darling, what do you mean?”
“I’ve gained so much weight, and neither of you said a single word to me about it,” you pouted. “The bra-fitter said I’ve gone up two cups! You just let me walk around like… Like some pregnant elephant, and didn’t point out once how chubby I am now!”
To your horror, Vi started laughing. Not mockingly, or cruelly; just genuinely amused. Beside you both, Cait’s composure didn’t fare much better as she resumed making the drinks.
You looked between them. “Why are you both finding this funny? I’ve gone up a whole dress size! And my bras don’t fit now!”
Cait recovered first. “Because there wasn’t anything to say, my love.”
You stared back, hand frozen in the bag of grated cheese.
Vi’s voice was soft in your ear. “Because bodies change.”
Her answer was so simple.
Cait nodded, pouring some alcohol into the pitcher. “You’ve been eating regularly, and sleeping properly. You’re in a healthy routine; you’re not under as much stress as you were a year ago…” She shrugged lightly. “A small amount of weight gain isn’t particularly remarkable.”
Vi nodded in agreement. “Honestly, I barely noticed.”
The statement earned a look of betrayal.
“You ‘barely’ noticed?” you demanded.
Vi immediately realised her mistake. “No, no-”
“Meaning you did notice.”
She squeezed you a little. “I mean, I noticed your tits bounce a little more when we fuck you, and your ass has a little more jiggle when we spank it-”
“Vi!”
“I noticed you looked happy.”
You paused.
Vi shrugged, resting her chin on your shoulder. “I noticed you have more energy. And I noticed you smile a lot more now.”
Your eyes became wet for the second time that day. You sniffled a little, lifting your chin. “Okay, you’re both forgiven.”
That only made them laugh harder, but you let them.
Your body had changed a little, but that was okay. It was just another part of moving forward.
The next few days passed far more easily than you had expected.
Once the shock of Powder and Ekko’s arrival had worn off and you were more accustomed to their chaotic energy, life in the penthouse settled into a new rhythm. A louder rhythm, certainly, but not an unpleasant one.
Powder seemed physically incapable of existing quietly. She drifted through the penthouse like a small hurricane, somehow managing to be everywhere at once. One morning you came into the kitchen to find Powder perched on the counter, stealing fruit from a bowl while Vi complained that normal people used chairs. Another afternoon you discovered the two sisters engaged in an increasingly ridiculous competition to determine who could balance the most objects on their head.
The current record holder was, apparently, Ekko.
Nobody seemed happy about this.
Evenings were spent together. Sometimes you all watched films. Sometimes you played board games that inevitably devolved into accusations of cheating; Cait informed you that Monopoly had long-since been banded in the Lanes household as games tended to end abruptly in physical fights between players. Once, Powder and Vi spent nearly an hour arguing over a childhood story, each insisting the other had remembered it incorrectly, whilst Ekko supplied increasingly unhelpful commentary from the sidelines.
Through it all, Cait watched with the familiar amusement of someone who had long ago accepted that the sisters were fundamentally incapable of behaving normally around one another.
You found yourself watching, too. Not with the uncomfortable ache you had felt on that first night.
Not anymore.
Instead, you found yourself slowly becoming part of things. Slowly getting more involved, slowly getting a little closer.
Powder made that process surprisingly easy.
She had all the subtlety of a charging rhino and approximately the same respect for personal space, but she was also relentlessly welcoming. Within two days she was treating you as if she’d known you for years, dragging you into conversations, asking questions about your hobbies, and occasionally appearing beside you without warning simply to share whatever thought had most recently entered her head.
Somehow, despite the chaos, it was difficult not to like her.
The biggest surprise, however, was seeing Vi as a sister.
You had only known Vi as a Sugar Mommy, as Cait’s Wife, and only more recently as a girlfriend. This confident, occasionally reckless woman who threw herself into life with both fists swinging.
But around Powder, there were glimpses of something younger. Softer.
She still teased relentlessly, of course. That would never change.
Yet there was also a fierce tenderness there. A protectiveness that seemed instinctive. The sort of love that had been built over years of scraped knees, shared bedrooms, inside jokes, and surviving difficult things together.
It was beautiful to watch. And a little bittersweet, as it only reinforced how fucked up your own upbringing had been. Cait was the sole only-child between the three of you, but you might as well have been too.
Still, you found yourself smiling more often than not.
The penthouse felt fuller.
And you were learning that that was… Good.
It was on the fifth day that Vi’s phone rang shortly after dinner.
She shot up off the sofa, a grin spreading across her face. “Yes! He’s here!”
Powder immediately sat upright. “Hell yeah!”
The two of them practically launched themselves toward the entryway corridor.
You blinked, but didn’t panic. You knew who this was, you knew what was about to happen.
“Vander!” both sisters cried simultaneously.
The voice that answered was deep enough to seem to vibrate through the walls. “Easy there, you little gremlins, I’m here.”
You followed Cait’s lead and stood up off the couch, nervously squeezing her hand as you, her, and Ekko headed a little closer to the entryway.
And you immediately froze.
The man standing in the doorway was enormous. Not merely tall… Enormous.
Standing about 6’3” tall, the man’s broad shoulders filled the space in the corridor. His arms looked like he could break concrete with ease. He had a thick beard threaded with grey and the sort of weathered face that suggested a lifetime of hard work.
Then the giant laughed, and the entire impression changed.
The sound was warm and gentle. Comforting.
Powder was already wrapped under one of his arms, Vi on his other side.
“You took forever,” the elder sister grumbled.
“I just drove three hours, drop the attitude,” he teased, ruffling Powder’s hair, earning immediate protests.
You watched the exchange carefully. The ease between the guardian and his daughters was unmistakable. There was no obligation, no sense of duty. They were a family, plain and simple. The kind of family that genuinely enjoyed being around each other, and loved each other deeply.
Something you were still getting used to.
Eventually Vander's attention shifted toward the three of you standing a little further away. He managed to shrug off the two sisters, playfully ignoring their teasing protests. Vi took his bags and started heading back towards the bedrooms, and Powder ran to the kitchen to get her dad a drink.
“Cait,” he greeted warmly, pulling her into a hug.
“Hello, Vander,” she replied with just as much affection for her father-in-law.
Vander released Cait, then turned to Ekko. They embraced tightly, patting each other’s backs as men often did.
Then his attention turned to you.
Immediately, every nervous instinct in your body activated.
“Well,” he said kindly, “You must be Y/N.”
You swallowed, and spoke politely, “Good evening, sir.”
Beside you, Cait was visibly trying not to smile.
Vander offered his hand; you shook it. Rather, your hand disappeared into his.
“Nice to finally meet you.” His smile widened slightly. “I’ve heard good things.”
By bedtime that evening, it was impossible not to notice how deeply these people loved one another. The way Vander automatically checked that everyone had eaten enough dinner before accepting a plate from Powder. The way Vi and Powder still bickered constantly but gravitated toward him. The way Ekko slipped effortlessly into the family dynamic despite not sharing their surname. The way Cait smiled whenever she watched them.
It wasn’t perfect; no family was.
They interrupted each other, argued, teased mercilessly, created noise wherever they went.
Yet beneath all of it sat something solid, and unshakeable.
Love.
It didn’t need to be earned. It wasn’t withheld as punishment. It wasn’t used a tool to manipulate each other.
It was the kind that existed even when people were annoying, or when they disagreed.
As you sat on the sofa, curled against Cait in what had become your preferred spot since your guests’ arrival, watching another ridiculous argument unfold, you found yourself studying Vander. Watching the way he laughed, the way he listened, the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at his children.
Children. Not biological, not by blood. Yet unquestionably his.
The thought lodged itself somewhere deep in your chest.
Because for the first time, you were seeing a father who didn’t rule through fear, or pain.
He was a parent whose presence made his family feel safer, not smaller. A man who had somehow raised two fiercely loving adults despite everything life had thrown at them. And as Vander reached over to steal a cookie from Vi’s plate – promptly earning a cry of betrayal from his eldest daughter – you found yourself smiling.
Family was… Good.
The penthouse was quiet that morning.
The city beyond the wall-to-ceiling windows was only just beginning to wake, the pale grey light of early morning stretching across the skyline. You padded down the corridor from the bedrooms towards the living area, still rubbing your eyes tiredly.
It was a little earlier than the three of you would normally rise, but you knew that trying to sneak those last 30 minutes would do more harm than good.
You rounded the corner, and jumped in surprise.
Vander sat at the kitchen counter, reading a newspaper as he sipped his black coffee. He looked up when he heard your soft squeak. “Morning, Y/N. Didn’t expect anyone else up this early. Vi said you normally wake up together?”
You recovered, trying to get your heart to slow down. “Good morning, sir-”
He smiled softly, shaking his hand a little. “You don’t need to call me ‘sir’, sweetheart.”
You ducked your head, slightly embarrassed. “Sorry. It’s just…”
“Force of habit?” he asked, his tone a little sad.
You headed into the kitchen area, looking at him from across the counter. “Yes. And yes, we’re normally up together. But I was already awake, and trying to sneak a little longer would make me more tired. So I thought I’d just start breakfast.”
“I was going to take everyone out this morning. My treat? Saves someone cooking, and we can all have what we want?”
You smiled. “Thank you, si—Vander. Thank you, Vander.”
You made a cup of tea, and sat on the stool next to him at the counter.
For a minute, neither of you spoke. But the silence wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Just peaceful, both of you enjoying the quiet of the morning.
Eventually, Vander wrapped both hands around his coffee mug and looked at you. “Mind if I ask you something?”
You turned your head. “Sure?”
His expression grew a little more serious. “Vi’s told me about the lawsuit.”
You immediately knew where this conversation was heading.
You nodded slowly. “Oh.”
A brief silence followed.
Then Vander sighed. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” His fingers traced the side of his mug. “But I wanted to tell you something.”
You waited, your heart starting to pound.
Vander shook his head slightly. “I’m a parent. But every time I hear another piece of that story, I just don’t understand how anyone could treat their child that way.”
You looked down at your tea.
The familiar discomfort surfaced immediately: the instinct to minimise, to explain everything away, to make it all sound less awful than it was.
Vander must have recognised the expression because he spoke again before you could. “No. Don’t do that. I’m serious, Y/N.”
You blinked.
His voice remained calm. “When Vi and Powder were little, there were days they drove me absolutely insane.”
That earned the faintest smile. “I can believe that.”
“Well, you should.” His eyes twinkled briefly. “They were menaces. But there was never a day – a second – when I stopped loving them.”
The words landed harder than you expected.
Because they were so simple.
And yet they described something you had never truly experienced. Your parents’ love had always been conditional, if they had ever even loved you at all. After all, you had no positive memories of them.
Vander looked down into his coffee, consciously giving you a break of eye contact. “I don’t care who my kids love. I don’t care if they make mistakes. Lord knows I’ve made enough of those. But they’re my kids. And if somebody hurt them...” his jaw tightened slightly, “I’d do whatever it took to protect them.”
You stared down at your tea, unable to meet his eyes.
Because the kindness in his voice hurt. Not in a bad way, though.
Then Vander’s voice softened even further. “What happened to you wasn’t normal, kid.”
Your eyes suddenly filled with tears. You swallowed harshly, your throat burning. “I know.”
“Good.”
Another pause.
“You deserved better.”
You inhaled sharply. You nodded. “Everyone keeps telling me that.”
“Probably because it’s true.”
A tear escaped before you could stop it, landing in your tea.
You hastily wiped more away; Vander didn’t pretend not to notice.
Eventually you managed a shaky smile. “Thank you.”
He smiled back. “Anytime.”
A comfortable silence settled once more.
You thought that might be the end of it.
Then Vander gently nudged your elbow with his, a mischievous glint appeared in his eyes.
One that looked remarkably familiar.
Oh no, you thought, that’s where Vi gets it from.
“You know…” he said casually.
You immediately became suspicious. “What?”
“If you ever decide to join Cait’s and Vi’s marriage, I’d be honoured to walk you down the aisle.”
"I used to have nothing, and then I got this job, this family." This, being SHIELD. [because you cannot convince me that Natasha spent years in SHIELD before becoming an Avenger, and she does not have any friends from SHIELD other than Clint.]
Chapter 5: I could never hold a perfect thing, and not demolish it.
Pairings: Blackhill (eventually) - focusing more on Natasha and other agents in SHIELD.
Warnings: Violence, torture, abuse (red room is fucked up, what can I say), angst, PTSD-symptoms.
A/N: I update this like once or twice a year I'm so sorry, please only start reading if you're okay with that😭
Masterlist | YSBSOM AU | You can also read on AO3! Previous Chapter
It was the rare kinda day where everyone is trying to catch up on their paperwork. Even Agent May was huddled next to Maria earlier in the meeting room, just trying to finish up on all the overdue mission reports.
Agent Barton just came back from a mission that had some surprising findings so Coulson was head down focused on spitting out his report as the handler of the mission, and Agent Morse was as always, once again trying to put her undercover mission into words - which she thinks is the hardest part of working in S.H.I.E.L.D.
Slowly but surely, everyone was done for the day. May was the first to leave the room, citing that she has an early morning and is almost done with her paperwork, and then Coulson left when he received a text from Barton.
And then it was just Maria and Bobbi left in the meeting room, both at each end of the meeting table, with their laptops in front of them and tablets and papers all across the table in a classic messy yet somewhat organised fashion.
Although her hands were busy working on her paperwork - Maria is one of the few people in S.H.I.E.L.D. that doesn't actually find paperwork too horrible, and instead finds them quite easy as it gives her a single purpose and is generally straight-forward and direct; her mind has been going in circles trying to figure out how she wants to talk to Bobbi about what’s been going on her mind recently.
Her hands are typing out her paperwork on autopilot at this point, while her eyes keep straying to the blonde agent’s side of the table.
And she really should’ve guessed that she would get called out on it.
Not many people would call her out, but Bobbi has never been one to cower in front of her since day one - except when Maria is chasing for mission reports, then Bobbi will want to hide behind May, or heck even Fury.
“What’s going on with you?” Bobbi asks, her eyes showing amusement at the fact that the Deputy Director isn’t even trying to be subtle in staring at her recently.
It was a little unsettling the first time she noticed it. Just glances here and there, especially when she’s around the Black Widow.
At first she thought it was misdirected, and Maria was trying to observe the redhead, but then it started happening more frequently. And if Bobbi can notice it, she suppose the trained-since-she-was-a-toddler spy definitely caught it even earlier than she did.
Feigning obliviousness, the Deputy Director just responded, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’ve been looking at me weirdly, especially when I’m with Natasha.”
“I’m not looking at you weirdly,” came the obvious defensive tone.
The agent raises her eyebrow to say ‘really?’.
Maria sighs, knowing that this was as good a chance as she’s going to get, so might as well ask what’s been on her mind recently, “I’m just trying to understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Why you’re…so close to her?”
It was perhaps the wrong way to phrase the question, as evident by how Bobbi sat up straighter hearing it, and how her eyes hardened immediately at the accusation that she misinterpreted from Maria’s question.
“What? Just because she’s the Black Widow doesn’t mean she’s a horrible person, I don’t judge someone by their past, you know that Deputy Director,” she emphasized on the title, hinting that she should be better than this.
Maria actually smiles at that, glad that Bobbi is even going out her way to defend Agent Romanov.
She never anticipated this friendship to foster in the first place, with the Black Widow’s complicated history with women of power in the Red Room. But now that it has, Maria can’t help but be glad that out of all people, it was Bobbi.
Agent Morse might be a pain in the ass when it comes to paperwork and following protocols, especially when it comes to hierarchy and unnecessary snark in the briefing room, but there is a unique charm that comes with her personality.
If these two truly form a friendship like what Maria is seeing between Barton and Romanov, then good luck to whoever that is handling them down the line because this friendship might be even more chaotic and cause more problems than the one between the archer and the Black Widow.
The laugh seems to confuse the blonde agent, “Calm down Bobs, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Then what do you mean?” she asked with a hint of skepticism.
Maria thought about it for a moment, trying to find the best way to phrase her curiosity, “Agent Romanov isn’t exactly close with anyone, aside from Barton. And it’s clear that she doesn’t necessarily relax in the presence of a female superior. So I’m just curious why she seems so open to your presence and company.”
She laughs perhaps with a tinge of bitterness before continuing, “I mean shit, I’ve been trying to get her to not be so tense next to me, but it seems like she’s dead set to see me as one of her madames or whatever fucked up superior she had back then.”
The light in Bobbi's eyes seems to perk up at that, and Maria knew that whatever came out next, she would hate.
“Oh this is interesting. So it’s not judgement you’re feeling, it’s jealousy.”
Called it.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and instead fixed the blonde with a firm stare, “Agent Morse.”
Bobbi just laughs it off, “I’m kidding. I guess the way I presented myself to her since the get go was a sense of familiarity and also more of an equal than a superior.”
“Familiarity?”
That was unexpected.
Bobbi is apparently done with her mission reports so she turned off her laptop and gave Maria her full attention. “I speak Russian with her whenever I can after I found out who she was, and I also try to speak different languages with her to try and trip her up. She told me once that the other girls will sometimes do this and include a few languages in a sentence to keep their brain going at all times.”
Kicking her feet up to the table after pushing aside everything, “Aside from the fact that I teach her class, I know for a fact that there is not much else that I am ‘superior’ from her. Not in combat skills, not in languages, and definitely not in experience,” Bobbi shrugs.
Maria wanted to argue, but Bobbi cut her off before she could even begin, “Relax, this isn’t me being self-deprecating, I know my worth, but I also know that she’s had a rougher life and in that, became a very strong and competent person in many aspects.”
The Deputy Director furrowed her brows, processing what Bobbi was telling her. It was true, that many of them in S.H.I.E.L.D. can't really say that they are 'better' than the Black Widow, but she also doesn't want this to become a new standard at S.H.I.E.L.D.
There was a reason they don't train agents like how the Red Room trained widows.
Bobbi didn't pick up on where Maria's head went, so she continued, “I don‘t need to present myself like how you do to her, because she is not under my command. I also don't find myself needing to treat her like she is a lower ranking agent because we all know if she wasn’t the Black Widow, she’d be a level 5 at least.”
That was true.
Bobbi herself was currently a level 5 agent. She was scouted from the Academy about two years ago, and is one of the rare level 5 agents to have her own espionage missions.
Because of her potential, Bobbi trains differently compared to other agents, such as her weekly sparring sessions with Agent May - which she has a love-hate relationship with. She is sent out mostly on espionage missions, especially ones located in other countries.
Based on the Black Widow's capabilities from what Maria's has seen so far, she would easily be a level 6 agent, specializing in espionage and infiltration.
“So it’s easier for me to bond with her. And she’s pretty good company once you get her to loosen up a little. She jokes, sometimes gives the most deadpanned reaction you can imagine, and she has incredible stories that she’s willing to share,” Bobbi finishes.
Maria nods, before squinting her eyes at Bobbi's feet on the table. Bobbi smiles sheepishly and lowers them as hinted.
Maria sighs, “I can’t do that with her.”
“You can’t, not yet at least.”
“I want to get to know her a bit better, but it seems like just my mere presence keeps her on guard.” Which was the main struggle for Maria.
She wants to get closer to the agent, wants to help her overcome whatever bullshit she's been through, wants to help train her into becoming the best agent S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever seen…
But she can't when the moment the redhead spots her, she shuts down.
“When she was brought in on the first day, I was the one that interrogated her. Somewhere in our conversation she was triggered and started speaking in Russian and kneeling on the ground. It was…hard to see that.”
Bobbi went deep in thought, trying to piece together what she's trying to ask in the most coherent way possible, “Is that why you’re so cautious with her?”
“I’m not-” before she could even argue, Bobbi cut her off, “Yes you are, you speak less whenever she’s in the room. Maybe you don’t realise it, but you act slightly differently when she’s around. You don’t joke, you barely speak to her like an agent, you kinda treat her like she’ll unravel at the wrong word.”
Which wasn't far from how Maria really felt.
She does feel like she's treading on dangerous grounds trying to avoid another scene like the first day. She never wants to see the redhead kneeling in front of her mumbling in Russian ever again.
The fear in her eyes when Fury walked in especially, it struck Maria deep in her bones, and a part of her was just so scared of finding out why she's reacting that way. What kind of monstrous acts did they do to her in the Red Room to warrant such a reaction?
“She could be mirroring that back to you. You are careful around her, and she will be careful around you too,” Bobbi finishes her thought.
“You’re right.”
Maria thinks back to how the redhead acted on the first day, “The first day that she was here, she was a lot more snarky. She had some attitude, nothing crazy, but she would give sarcastic comments, make jokes, test boundaries with me. That changed after…”
Huh.
When did it change?
“I think it was after she signed the contract and became an agent.”
Which isn't necessary true.
She was still a little snarky after that, her smirk after winning over the rookies at the gun range…But it was around that time that Maria last saw the more playful side of the redhead.
Bobbi nods, "That explains it, she no longer tests her boundaries with you after you've become her superior. It makes sense given what we know about her past…"
“What should I do?” Maria asks.
Dying for some guidance so she can get closer to the new agent.
Maria can't explain it but she has a feeling that the Black Widow will make her stay in SHIELD, and as Deputy Director she will need to work with her more often down the line.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” the blonde laughs.
Bobbi has never seen the Commander this lost. She has always been sure of herself and confident in her capabilities since the day Bobbi was introduced to her, so it was interesting to see this side of the brunette.
She picks up her cup of coffee and took a sip, “We don’t know how fucked up her previous madames were, and we also don’t know how she exactly bond with other people. But I guess just start by…talking to her, more?”
“She might be triggered, but if you keep avoiding talking to her, then it’s not exactly productive is it?”
And god damn it, she has a point.
Clint just came back from a mission, and he is feeling like his soul is slowly descending from his body while his mind is functioning purely on autopilot.
The mission wasn’t difficult, it was a simple infiltration and extraction mission.
The hostages were two teenagers that was kidnapped due to their genetic condition, leading to a lab in Puerto Rico experimenting in their compatibility in another type of fucked up serum to create super soldiers for the US military.
Seriously, it’s like everyone will never stop trying to create another Captain America.
He completed the mission, managed to scoop out the place and get the two boys out from the place before they began phase three of the experiment - which according to the files he got from the database, was a series of tortures disguised as testing the limits of their bodily function.
The smell of the lab and the look on the teenagers faces when he released them is still imprinted in his brain, and his mind keeps wandering back to his own kids at home.
And also a certain redhead that doesn't look too unlike the teenagers when frightened.
He’s walking back to his room, wanting a little bit of personal time away from people. Coulson already gave him the green light to delay the report submission for another week and he’s seriously considering taking some time off and head back to the farm.
“Hey, Clint,” and Clint managed to hide the startle from his body.
He really needs to talk to her about making noises when approaching him from behind.
“Natasha, you finished training for the day?” he asked, knowing that the rookies' schedule is slowly getting tighter due to upcoming assessments.
The redhead falls into pace with him, “Yes, I have to help Agent Coulson with the mission tomorrow so I got off early with permission. How was your mission?”
“It was fine, it was a success.”
Something about the way he responded was a little tight, tense, and maybe even cold.
But Natasha brushes it off, knowing that coming off from a mission sometimes you just need to sit with someone and let them distract you from whatever your mind was conjuring.
They reached his room before Natasha could overthink it, and Clint turned around, “Did you need something from me?”
Natasha for once, was looking awkward standing there outside his room. And Clint would've noticed it if his head wasn't so unfocused.
"Can I talk to you?” came the question which took Clint a little by surprise but he let her into the room regardless, “Yeah, come on in.”
He dumps his bag onto the ground next to the wardrobe and turns around to find the redhead pacing near his bed, “What’s up?”
“I’ve been feeling like…like suffocated,” said the redhead, her brows furrowed and her fingers started stroking her hand once again. It was a tell that the archer has noticed, unsure if it's genuinely subconscious or if it was just something that the redhead was letting him see when she's feeling uncertain.
He sits down on the chair and started unlacing his boots, “Like physically?”
“No. Not physically, um…like inside, I’m suffocated.”
And Natasha knows that she probably isn't making any sense. Hell, she barely understands why she's feeling like this so trying to explain to someone how she's feeling is…hard. Which was why she wanted to talk to Clint about it, he's been good at helping her understand things.
She looks to him and finds him kicking off his boots to the side, “Okay, well, is it happening all the time or?”
She feels out of place. Like she didn't belong.
It wasn't her room, but the way that Clint is acting…it feels different.
Unlike how he'd normally pay her 100% of his attention, he's barely looking at her, but at least he's listening to her.
“No, only…when uh, when Agent Coulson is around.”
He paused his motion of packing his stuff - which mainly was him throwing things in the small wardrobe, his eyes were concerned when they lock with hers, “Coulson? Did he do something?”
And that felt wrong.
Like…Agent Coulson type of wrong.
It felt like…an ick.
She controls her breathing, “No, not really. Just that…he…”
Agent Barton went back to shoving things back into his wardrobe, probably to cover up the fact that for a second there, he looked at her with concern like how you'd look at a child that's been abused.
She can't do this.
She wanted to do this, but she can't.
So she bolts, “Uh you know what, actually I think I’ll process it first. Um…I’ll leave you to it today.”
She stammered out the words before she can think too much about it. Agent Barton pauses at the door behind her, “You sure?”
She slips on the mask that she's used to putting on, turns around, “Yeah…glad you’re back. Good night.”
She hears the soft “Night,” from Agent Barton before the she turns the corner and almost ran back to her room.
Natasha couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with Agent Barton. He wasn’t exactly present with her last night when she spoke to him, but she created the excuse that he might have been tired from the mission.
Well if he was, then he could’ve just said so.
Maybe he just needed some rest?
Regardless, the image of him unpacking his stuff in his room while she tried to speak with him kept playing in her mind. She keeps trying to analyse and see if there’s anything that she might’ve missed, clues as to why he was feeling off, hints that she didn’t catch due to her emotions being all over the place.
When she couldn’t find anything in her mind, she groaned at herself before getting ready for the mission.
It was almost ironic, how much she’s been trying to get away from the Red Room, only to feel unsettled by the lack of missions she gets in S.H.I.E.L.D. It’s like her body itches for danger and directions, feeling unsettled by the lack of purpose in her life right now.
This wasn’t even a full mission. She’s just back up at the command centre.
But anything is better than nothing - or so she tries to tell herself.
By the time she got to the room with the setup that they needed for her job today, Agent Coulson was already inside with his earpiece on.
He should’ve been leading the team since 0330 this morning - time zones are a bitch.
“Agent Coulson,” she greeted when she got close to the command deck.
He looks up from his tablet, “Agent Romanov, perfect timing, they’ll be reaching the facility in twenty minutes. We’ve already connected our setup to their security servers, all that’s left is for you to crack their firewall and disable the alarm systems to let the team in.”
He hands her an earpiece that's connected to the field team and she puts it on.
She takes a seat in front of the computer, “I took the information that was collected by the IT team through passive recon from the mission package, and gave it a one-over. I did a network and service enumeration three days ago at the target server and found some possible exploits that I’ll be focusing on later.”
She looks up to find him nodding at her brief, so she continues, “Once I actually get on the server later, I’ll have a better look to see which one might have the best shot. Either way, I created a command and control malware with the IT team that will likely make it easier for us later. Once I attack the automated scheduled update of the security system, I should have unlimited access to the server and the team can do their thing,” she pauses, “Well, at least until they figure out that I’m inside their servers and create countermeasures to it.”
Agent Coulson huffs out a laugh at that, before he went back to his tablet and coordinated with the other teams for the mission.
Once he got the greenlight from his field team, he taps on the table to get the Black Widow's attention, “They're three minutes away, you can start.”
And with that she got to work.
It wasn't a complicated or difficult thing to do. Cracking security systems is something that all widows had learned, but Natasha was never one to enjoy being behind the scenes. She's been trained to enjoy the thrill of being in action by now. While she can acknowledge the importance of this job…she just simply isn't excited enough for it.
Although, she will take this over…having nothing to do instead.
At least she's doing something now.
“I’ve disabled the alarm and the triggering device for their perimeter security, once you get to the main door past the gates outside, there should be a digital lock, enter the passcode Delta-Lima-2-Oscar-9-0-Golf,” she briefed the field team, getting an affirmative from the other end before cracking the final wall.
Giving the signal, she sees the team enter the code she provided and they were in the perimeter without setting off any alarms, “Andddd…we are in for now.”
She cracks her knuckles, muting her earpiece from her side,“Now I wait for your team to complete their mission while I monitor their response.”
Agent Coulson looked at her with something in his expression…
Like…like…pride or whatever.
She doesn't hold his gaze for long.
Instead, she opts to look around the command deck, taking in the devices, the other people working around them, the familiarity of seeing a team work like this; but also the unfamiliarity of doing things from behind the scenes.
“Not used to not being in the action?”
She nods, “I’ve been trained to go into field missions since I was five.”
“I’m the opposite. I was trained to go on missions, but I work better on this end planning and handling extraction plans,” he said.
Which led to a curious head tilt, “Extraction plans?”
“Yeah, in case things go wrong, it’s good to have an extraction plan to ensure the agent’s safety,” was the easy answer.
It was the main reason he got promoted so quickly by Fury, he shined when working on predicting enemy behaviour and creating plans that calculate all risks involved. There was also the part of him that didn't enjoy field work as much as the others.
“Why?”
And Coulson is reminded that the Black Widow is trained in all ways from the Red Room, except for the value of a human life. He takes a look at her, reminded by the fact that this trained killer in front of him is just barely in her 20s. To live for 20 years and consistently taught that your life doesn't matter, that the mission is everything.
Gosh, Coulson wishes he can go out there and beat some sense into the people in charge there.
Natasha flinches internally when she caught his gaze.
There it is again.
Pity.
It makes her inside squirm.
She hates it when he looks at her like this.
Like she's just a child.
She wants to feel angry, but all that comes is shame.
“Our agents’ lives are valuable to us. They are not disposable.”
And that sounds like an easy direct statement, but it didn't make sense to Natasha.
“But you can always recruit and train more agents.”
No one is irreplaceable. Even the best agent in the Red Room isn't irreplaceable.
There is no value in anyone that can't be created or trained again in another. Sure it might take some time to train and get results, time and effort needs to go into creating another agent as capable, but no one is irreplaceable.
“Every human life is valuable to us. None of our agents are disposable. They are all human beings with lives and people who care about them. We will not risk a life unnecessarily.”
That directly conflicts with what she's been taught, and what she believes.
Agents are agents because they're replaceable.
Some agents might be of higher value just because of what they can bring to the mission, their skills, experiences, their intuition; but no one is irreplaceable.
The tension between her and her handler rises. She's tense, not knowing what to say when her beliefs are challenged like this. She would want to argue, if she feels more at ease with him.
But she doesn't.
His presence has always unsettled her.
And with this pity that's constantly directed at her…she hates it.
Thankfully, Agent Coulson changes the topic before her skin crawls and forces her to bolt from the room.
“Did you manage to catch Barton after his mission yesterday?” asks the senior agent.
She nods, “I saw him briefly yesterday night, but not today.”
Which was weird, cause he normally pesters her when he comes back from a mission. Sometimes with stories, sometimes with snacks…
“He’s on leave.” She was caught off guard by that, “On leave?”
Agent Coulson nods, “He has some personal matters that he needs to handle.”
She couldn't stop herself from asking, “Do we know when he’ll be back?”
“Unsure, could be a few days or up to two weeks.”
And she was left feeling like she did something wrong.
She really should’ve been more careful.
It wasn’t like this is something that she never learned in the Red Room.
But her mind has been really loud lately, and her emotions all over the place.
The lid that she has firmly covered over her heart has been slowly pried open by a certain archer and now she struggles to keep everything in check.
His kindness, his trust, his optimism…
It was all things that she’s never particularly been given, and now that she’s being offered these things, she has no idea how to deal with them.
What's worse is that he left.
He was acting a little weird that night in his room when Natasha wanted to talk to him, and then he disappeared without letting Natasha know.
Logically she understands that it might have been an emergency, or he might have just forgot to tell her, heck he doesn't need to tell her anything since he didn't owe her any explanation, and yet…
Her mind is coming up with possible reasons for his time off.
Did she do something wrong?
Does he find her overly clingy and reliant on him?
Perhaps he realizes that he deserves to hang out with someone better and is trying to distance himself from her?
And then there’s also her handler.
Phil Coulson.
Agent Phil J. Coulson, clearance level 8, joined S.H.I.E.L.D. back in 1992. Served as a field operator until 1997 before being promoted into senior agent and then became a handler in 1999.
Natasha didn’t dare to dig too much into his file when she got the opportunity but it didn’t mean she didn’t try to get some basic facts about him. There were several files that were highly encrypted which intrigued her but with her current position, she knew better than to try and hack into it.
He was…interesting, which doesn’t encompass fully how Natasha feels about him. He was similar to Barton but at the same time very, very different as well.
For one, he definitely is higher in the hierarchy, which already caused her to be a bit more cautious when dealing with him.
But on another note, he was also…a bit overbearing.
Unlike Barton, where Natasha can see understanding and pain whenever he finds out something about her past; with Agent Coulson, he just…seems overwhelmed.
Not overwhelmed with whatever he finds out, but rather overwhelmed with uncertainty and also kindness and warmth that makes Natasha’s skin crawl.
Just thinking about it makes her want to scrub her skin raw.
It’s uncomfortable.
His presence makes her uncomfortable.
That’s what she’s been trying to figure out.
Why?
Why Agent Coulson in particular?
Why does his presence seem to have such an effect on her whenever he’s around?
Either way, with the two people causing her mind to go into a different direction every second, she lost focus in the training room.
Which landed her in her current situation.
Looking down at Agent Pierce - Spaghetti, who is nursing a fresh sprained ankle.
"I'm sorry," she says once again.
Agent Pierce looks at her with exasperation, "It's not your fault, I really should be better at dodging."
"No, I was the one that lost focus in the fight and reacted instinctively, I'm sorry."
It was a mistake.
A genuine mistake.
She was sparring with Agent Pierce in the training room, when someone walked in and she heard the words Winter Soldier.
Zimniy Soldat.
Her body froze for a millisecond but she recovered, and unfortunately her body reacted before her mind did, and she ended up giving Agent Pierce a sprained ankle.
"It's nothing, doctor say it's just a mild sprain, nothing serious. I'll be back in training in like a week tops."
Just as she was about to respond, the doors opened and in came their recent new replacement for Agent Whitman, after the Commander fired his ass over the incident previously.
"I heard someone got hurt in the training room," Agent Patel was much nicer compared to the previous one. He was fair in training and doesn't give anyone favouritism, but Natasha still finds herself wary of him - naturally.
Agent Pierce was much less tense than Natasha, so he didn't even flinch when he answered, "Yes Sir, just slipped and landed wrongly. Doctor checked and said I didn't tear anything, just a sprain. I should be good in a week."
The senior agent took a look at the both of them, noticing the tenseness in Natasha's body, not like someone hiding something but more like someone waiting for an attack.
"Just an accident?" he asks.
Agent Pierce just laughs, "Yeap."
Not finding any reason to believe otherwise, he nods, "Alright, you're on medical leave until the doctor clears you. Let me know when that happens."
"Thank you Agent Patel."
And with that he briskly leaves the room.
Natasha looks at Spaghetti with furrowed brows, "You didn't need to do that. It was my fault."
He huffs out exasperatedly, "Again, it wasn't your fault Agent Romanov. I'm gonna head back to my room and rest, can you give me a hand?"
She helps him up and leads him all the way back to his room. They got a few glances from the people that passed by, but none that questioned them anything.
"I'm sorry," once again, Spaghetti sighs before looking at the redhead in front of him.
Natasha feels guilty, although she didn't do it intentionally , it was caused by her lack of focus.
So she feels responsible.
"That's the fifth time you said that, stop feeling guilty. It wasn't your fault, alright?"
And that makes it worst.
The fact that he's not blowing up on her. The fact that she's not being punished.
It unsettles her.
Makes her feel like the needle will drop when she least expects it, and she'll be left floundering around struggling to survive once again.
"I don't understand why you're so nice to me," she says, her head genuinely hurts from having to dissect everyone around her for the past few months.
Spaghetti tilts his head, "You've never done anything to warrant any ill intentions from me."
It was such a simple reason.
"The others don't feel the same way."
He laughs before unlocking his room, "The others are idiots that would rather follow what the alpha says, than to do the right thing. My grandfather would rise from his grave just to whack me on the head if he finds out that I grew up to be a jerk," he says, making her jot down that little tidbit of information for the future.
She stands there as he pushes into his room, making sure he's not falling over any moment. He flashes her a final smile and she feels her throat tighten at that.
"Thanks. For what you did the other day with Agent May, and also for covering this for me," she forces out.
She is grateful.
Life has been better ever since Whitman was replaced and the other agents were properly chastised and punished for what they've been doing to her.
She doesn't dread training and sparring with them anymore.
"No thanks needed, I just spoke the truth. And again, I didn't cover anything just now, it's not your fault. Now I'm gonna head in and lie on my bed for the rest of the day, have a good rest Agent Romanov."
It was a peaceful night for Maria.
She finished going through the mission reports that were sent in - surprisingly with minimal issues from the team this time, signed off on a few requests - since Fury is still busy with the Council recently, and had some time before she'd head to bed.
Dinner was alright - there really is no way to save the cafeteria food, she needs to stock up her own instant noodle stash soon though. Thinking to put in a little work at the gym, she changed and grabbed her bottle, before heading out towards the gym.
She was surprised to see the lights in the common gym room still on, normally not many people are in there at this hour - just an hour after dinner for most people. Taking a peek into the gym, she sees the familiar red hair near the punching bag.
The hits were strong, the familiar thumping sound something that Maria isn't too shocked at. But what was shocking is the way that she was going at it raw, without any wrapping or gloves.
"What are you doing?" her voice startled her, but only for less than half a second.
Her hits falters, and the slow blink might be a good cover if Maria didn't already clock her surprise. Which surprises Maria, because she doesn't think the woman has ever been anything less than vigilant all the time that she's known her.
She caught the Black Widow off guard.
And that was a victory and a red flag for her.
"Commander Hill," she gave Maria a nod, "just training."
Maria gave her a look, "I know you're hitting the punching bag, but you know going at it raw like that will fuck up your hands right?"
That seems to shake the Black Widow out of her little out of focus moment, she looks down at her knuckles and see the red spots slowly forming around them, "It will heal."
She knows how much she can hurt before she goes too far, years in the Red Room has taught her almost everything she needs to know about her body. Things normal people shouldn't ever learn about themselves.
"So you're doing this on purpose?"
Damn it.
She really is getting sloppy.
Her ability to hide things and keep things under wraps are getting worse.
Her face hardens, and she puts on the mask that she's so used to wearing immediately, "Is it against the rules?"
Maria softens seeing how she got Agent Romanov defensive.
She's used to agents getting defensive around her. She does things by the books and nothing can get past her if she's looking for it. She's also familiar with dealing with someone like Agent Romanov.
It's like dealing with a kid that should be treated like an adult. Agent Romanov just needs a bit more of a delicate touch due to…all the trauma.
That's kind of the case with most of the strays they pick up. Barton, Morse, Romanov…
Huh.
"You got me there. We never really set rules thinking that they'll be people intentionally trying to hurt themselves."
Natasha rolls her eyes and Maria kind of misses this side of the agent. The side that's more defiant and cocky, takes no bullshit and absolutely scares the shit out of junior agents.
"I'm not trying to hurt myself, I'm not…self-harming or whatever you Americans call it," if she tries hard enough, Natasha might actually cut someone with the venom she's spitting into the word 'Americans'.
Maria had to hold herself back from the laugh that threatens to come out.
It's hilarious that the Black Widow is this offended by the accusation.
It's sad if you think any further, but Maria will keep herself at the 'safe and funny' instead of 'dark and depressive' side of things, thank you very much.
"Then what are you doing?"
"Like I said, just training."
Now it was Maria's turn to roll her eyes, "You didn't even try to lie there."
And that's a stalemate.
Maria isn't backing down knowing that there's definitely a concerning reason why the Black Widow is out here late at night punishing herself; and Natasha isn't backing down because she needs this but she doesn't know how to say it without sounding like a fucking dog conditioned by fucked up people.
From an outsider's point of view, it was an awkward minute.
The two of them were just staring at each other.
Neither of them felt awkward, it was more just stubbornness and wanting the other person to cave before they do.
Maria sighed internally. Clearly she needs a better way to approach this.
"Come on, spar with me," was the genius idea.
She's been keeping up with the sparring sessions that Natasha has with Agent May, not just from observing the occasional video footage, but also by talking with May herself.
Watching because Maria genuinely thinks she can benefit from observing two of S.H.I.E.L.D's best fighter spar, and talking just to gauge May's opinion on the Black Widow and to discuss tactics.
It's productive.
And she's noticed that the Black Widow tends to lower her guard after a good sparring session. May also mentioned that she tends to talk more after a spar, nothing crazy like pouring her heart out but enough that May has gotten to know her a little better from it.
Natasha observes the Commander in front of her. It wasn't in her plan to get caught tonight, but also she'd never pass out on the opportunity to spar with someone in power.
It's a good way to figure out their capabilities, and any information is good to Natasha.
Not seeing any malice from the woman in front of her, Natasha nods.
"The usual rules with May will do. No holding back."
Hah.
We'll see about that.
She started with the same approach to when she first fought with Agent May.
Stand on guard, be passive, gauge her level.
Keep her distance.
Slowly she threw out a jab when she dodged a sweep for her legs.
The pace started picking up, and Natasha started taking in the Commander's fight style.
It's very different from Agent May's. The pace with the senior agent is always fast, smooth, and they seem to both enter a flow together. May's different martial art's background tends to keep Natasha on her toes because it's hard to predict what's going to come. The combination that she throws out can catch Natasha off guard if she doesn't focus.
With Commander Hill though?
It's slow.
Dangerous.
There's nothing insanely deadly about her fighting style, but she is very steady.
She holds her ground and controls the pace of the fight even when Natasha tries to switch it up.
It's hard to take hold of the fight.
Maria isn't throwing out crazy moves like May would, but if she manages to land one…
"I may be not as quick as May, but I can pack a good punch when I want to," Natasha winces as she recovers from the punch that she couldn't fully dodge on her side.
Natasha finds herself struggling in the spar, because she's facing someone who is just…good.
An all rounded fighter is the ones that Natasha hates the most.
They're not flashy, nothing special that Natasha can use against them; they're also not careless, nothing that Natasha can exploit.
Natasha is much more used to quick fights. The ones where things are happening at a faster speed than what a bystander can handle. Fights with the other widows were always deadly and efficient. And she's mostly fought with Agent May in S.H.I.E.L.D, who is also similarly quick paced.
The training she's done with the rookies were all less than warm ups to her, so she doesn't count those.
So as she dodges another punch aimed at her side, Natasha decided.
She hates fighting the Commander.
But she loves it, cause it's different.
And different is good.
Because that means her body is relearning something.
Maria knows that she lacks skills and experience when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, but she's also not a rookie. She knows how to fight, can take down a few men if she needs to; she's also a quick learner.
So, Maria observes and studies.
It was definitely harder than it seems, as she feels the Black Widow try to control the pace and direction.
But if there's anything that Maria is good at, it's holding her own against someone who's skilled. Years in the marines and brawling with men who will always look down at her has given her the edge she needs.
Her style is steady, strong and opportunistic.
She times her punches well, and it's always a strong one cause her body is prepared for it.
The challenge comes in trying to dodge what Agent Romanov throws at her.
It's not something that Maria recognises, not just your usual jabs or sweeps, but a combination of random things all at different timing and pacing.
She tries her best to keep her distance and cover her bases, but it's hard.
She didn't make the spar an easy one for Natasha, but although Natasha can't find any loophole to use to her advantage, she is also that much more skilled.
Years of training in the Red Room did something right for her.
After about fifteen minutes, Natasha manages to catch Maria off guard and sweep her off her feet.
Double tapping the floor, Maria calls for a break and wonders how she's sweating so much while the shorter woman in front of her is barely panting.
They both went to grab their bottles to rehydrate, Maria observing the redhead closely. "So? You gonna tell me what got you punching the bag at midnight like that?"
Natasha sighs, knowing that the woman in front of her won't let this go, "Agent Pierce got hurt today."
Maria raised a brow, "I heard there was an accident when you two were sparring."
"I got distracted, he paid the price for it," Natasha answered.
And Maria couldn't help but let out a little laugh. "Okay, that's a little bit dramatic for a sprained ankle." Natasha pulled a face that Maria think is the closest she's ever got to seeing her feeling annoyed.
Wiping the sweat dripping off her forehead, Maria continues, "Things like this happens during sparring, I don't think you intentionally hurt him, did you?"
Natasha feels the irritation under her skin, "No, but…it was my fault. I…" - she looks away frustrated, annoyed that no one seems to understand why she's at fault here - "I got distracted when I shouldn't and then he got hurt because of it."
Maria nods, "Right…and you think you deserve what? Punishment?"
"Consequences," she huffs out.
"Why?"
Natasha runs a hand over her hair, fighting the urge to fist them and pull instead, "Because I can't get over it until I get punished!"
And that was the main issue.
Natasha can work her mind and understand that she isn't in the red room. She can logically understand that it was a normal sparring session, and Spaghetti could've dodge better. She can dissect why she shouldn't take all the blame over such an incident and even understand why she's not being blamed - she just attributes it to everyone else being obnoxiously kind here.
But what she can't deal with is the way her body is tensed the whole day.
Like a natural muscle reaction, waiting for something to happen to her.
Until that happens, a part of her body will always be on high alert, and it is exhausting to live like that.
So she tried punishing herself by going at the punching bag, but it's not working cause it's her decision.
Maria once again fights the urge to sit the Black Widow down and have her list out every fucked up thing the Red Room has done to her.
She understands trauma, and manipulation and conditioning. But she's never seen anyone with trauma to this extent, with the most fucked up perspective at life.
"No one here thinks you need to be punished for this. Not me. Not Agent Pierce. Not even the director. So maybe you should ask yourself why you feel like you need to be punished."
Natasha goes quiet.
Her breathing a little laboured from her outburst.
Maria gives her a minute and when she still isn't really talking, she prompts, "Is this a Red Room thing?"
Natasha meets her eyes.
Cloudy green ones that looked lost and tired.
Maria holds her gaze and tries to read her other body language.
It's always a gamble, asking her about the Red Room.
And like she told Bobbi, she is trying her best to not trigger Agent Romanov into another episode of what happened on the first day.
That scene is imprinted in her mind and she sometimes gets nightmares of that scene.
But Bobbi did make a good point in trying to talk with the Black Widow on a more neutral ground. It's hard, but Maria reminds herself that Natasha isn't exactly a child. She might have the emotional maturity and intelligence of one, but she's still an adult with autonomy - and a fuck ton of trauma.
She was unsure if asking about the Red Room might've been too direct, until she hears the Black Widow says, "There's consequences for everything, good and bad. Sometimes when we made a mistake, they wouldn't punish us until months later. I remember I once made a mistake during a mission, I let the target slip away for two days before I caught up to him again, but the mistake was already made. I prolonged the mission, created issues and more risks for us."
Maria nods, listening intently as her mind tries to predict where this is going.
"When I went back, they didn't punish me. And I thought I got lucky. But three months later on a random Tuesday, I was pulled out of bed at 3 in the morning and they tied me to a pole underground before cranking the temperature all the way down. I was left there, freezing, and they kept pouring water on me while making me recite what I did wrong and kept questioning me how I'm preventing that from happening again."
Natasha couldn't stop the shudder that ran through her body involuntarily.
"It was excruciating, the feeling of coldness seeping into my bones…"
And she was brought back into her memory of that day.
The sopping cold water running down her body as it shivers and her teeth clashes from the low temperature. The feeling of numbness spreading across her fingertips as it kept on going for what felt like hours. The way she recited her mission report and her mistakes over and over again as Madame B circled her.
The agonizing pain in her bones as the hypothermia sets in and her mind started turning fuzzy. The feeling of blood being pumped to her heart and the sound of her heartbeat reverberating in her head.
"From that day onwards, I know that if I ever did something wrong, I'm not safe until I've been punished."
And Maria honestly wished she never asked.
Every time she learned something about the Red Room, she questions humanity and the ugly parts of life. And to imagine a young Black Widow shuddering in a freezing room as she gets dunked with water?
Well Maria really hopes she gets to see the day the Red Room gets demolished, and she hopes she has a part to play in that.
Gathering her thoughts, "Okay. We're not the Red Room. If you did in fact hurt the agent on purpose and we found out, there will definitely be consequences. But accidents will happen in sparring sessions, that is to be expected. It's not something we encourage, we expect everyone to be careful when sparring, but it also doesn't mean you'll get punished for something like this."
It was important to say that out loud.
Agent Romanov takes things very directly, so things needed to be said in the most clear and concise manner to avoid misinterpretation.
"Do you understand?"
"I understand."
"So did you do anything wrong today?"
"No."
"Can you go to sleep now?"
"…no."
Once again, Maria had to let out a soft laugh.
Don't let anyone convince you that the Black Widow can't be funny.
"I appreciate the honesty, at least."
Looking around the room, Maria considers her options.
Yes, she can sit here all day and try to convince and order the agent to go to sleep and that she's not at fault. But this wasn't as simple as a child not understanding why playing with fire is dangerous.
This is Natasha's body's way of keeping her alive because it firmly believes that if no punishment is ordered then she is not safe.
"You see the cloth and cleaner at the corner?" she points to the corner of the room, "Grab it and wipe down every equipment in here for me, that's your consequences."
Despite the part of her that feels almost disgusted that she's essentially 'punishing' the Black Widow over a non-issue, she also knows that something like this will help - hopefully.
"When you're done you can go sleep. Alright?"
Natasha nods.
Mind blank as she went to grab the cloth and cleaner.
It was natural for her body to follow instructions from a superior.
And although she understands that the Commander isn't giving her a 'punishment', she doubts anyone else might be ordered to wipe down the gym if they ended up accidentally injuring someone during a spar.
And there lies the difference.
Her body can accept this as punishment because it's from a superior, and it was a consequences of the incident.
It was tedious work.
Most of the equipment were sticky with sweat.
And the gym wasn't small, so it took her about half an hour to get it done.
Her hand smells like factory citrus chemical by the time that she's done.
Natasha hated it.
But she fell asleep almost as soon as she got in bed that night.
It's been five days since Agent Barton has left.
And Natasha has been feeling a bunch of different emotions that she cannot process.
All she knows is that if this keeps going on, she'll probably end up murdering someone.
She lied awake last night chastising herself for feeling this way, for letting down her guard and causing all these stress for herself.
She should've just shot him and ran back then.
And then she chastises herself for even thinking about that.
He hasn't done anything to her.
He just left.
And that's fine.
She's fine.
She didn't need him.
It's also been getting harder to fight the need to follow what she's been taught for years. Her body itches to follow what's the easiest thing that she can do, but she's in way too deep now.
She can't go back now, and she definitely can't imagine what life awaits her if she gets caught by them. Staying in S.H.I.E.L.D. is her best option, the recent stability in her training schedule with the rookies, gives her some sort of peace.
Her eyes scans around the room, seeing the familiar setup in front of her, and she thinks back to when she was last in here, doing the evaluation before officially joining S.H.I.E.L.D.
It feels like it's such a long time ago.
When in reality it's only been a few months.
"I'm sure you have all done this simulation test before. Today we're gonna run through it but this time we'll actually figure out the best course of action in different scenarios," once again with the kind smile that Natasha absolutely hates.
It's like she's haunted by Agent Coulson.
Because why else is he stepping in for this class.
Something about senior agents needing to handle babysitting duties at least twice every few months.
She already spent a large chunk of her time trying to dissect and digest her feelings about her handler, and now she's seeing him in class too.
Truly, this feels like a punishment.
"This shouldn't be something that anyone is unfamiliar with. Field planning is an important aspect of the mission, some might even call it the most important part of it. You've all been on missions before, and you've all done the simulation test before," he continues with his explanation.
Everyone in the room were seemingly glad to be spared from another gym session - which is what this was supposed to be. With the short-term training coming to an end soon, they've been doing more physical training than anything else.
Something that Natasha enjoys, as it gives her body a space to engage and be active.
Since she's still mostly stuck here.
Phil watches as the rookies all whisper to each other about the class.
What he said earlier wasn't entirely a lie, there is an unspoken rule about senior agents having to work with babysitting duties every once in a while. Most of them have a certain field of speciality, like May with fighting and Morse with languages.
Phil normally gets ask to babysit when the Agent in charged of the group finds someone they think has potential for further development.
That's not the case today because he asked for the class to firstly, observe Agent Romanov after his discussion with Maria a few days back about her recent condition and assimilation to the other agents; and secondly because he really wanted to see how Natasha fare in the new simulations that they got.
"We had a recent upgrade so now we have a bunch of new scenarios and I thought it'd be interesting to see how everyone fares when dealt with different situations," he mostly wanted to see Natasha in action, as he barely got to see how she works other than the initial assessment and also the little pockets of conversations they have here and there - he suspects the Black Widow doesn't really like him, but she's also not actively acting against him so it could be him overthinking.
Grabbing a stack of one-sided coloured paper flipped upside down, he smiles internally. "The interesting twist is that, you'll be separated into groups of four. Figure out a plan for the mission and then you'll all each play a different part. Consider everyone's strengths and weaknesses, then choose the roles they'll most likely shine in. During the simulation you'll have two field member, one leader in the control room and another one acting as IT support."
This was the third reason, evaluating how well Natasha works in a group.
Because Maria has been pushing for the Black Widow to go on official missions recently, and the higher ups had wanted his opinion on it.
And apparently, tell them I say yes in bright bold letters, wasn't a valid answer according to Maria.
She asked for a detailed report on the Agent's progress and his honest opinion on the risks of sending her out and whether he'd be confident in handling her missions.
"This isn't a test, but I of course want everyone to pass the mission."
Great.
Group work.
Natasha has never liked group work.
Ever since she graduated, she's been mostly working alone in missions. Working in a team meant that you had to take other people's issues and risks into consideration, and to Natasha that just felt like an extra level of unnecessary problems for her.
She's also never really work in missions that needed a whole group of widows.
Espionage and infiltration has always been a one widow per mission type of situation.
So the most she's worked with is Madame B.
She involuntarily shuddered thinking about her previous handler.
After they've split into different groups, somehow Natasha finds that she doesn't hate the people she got assigned with. They weren't annoying and they do treat her equally - which was an issue to her in a different way but she'll let it go. They started discussing about the plan after they've got the scenario and mission debrief.
Naturally Natasha was one of the ones that will go 'on field', and she's partnered up with Agent Moore. From her memory, he's half decent at shooting and does pretty well in gym. He didn't have any crazy feats of strengths or agility, but a decent agent is good enough in her books.
They were in a circle trying to figure out a plan, and Natasha was of course silently judging them. They're not horrible for someone who hasn't been on too many actual missions. She was even starting to feel like she can find some joy in observing them up close this way. Understanding and filing away how they work and think, figuring out their priorities and codes of conduct.
She gives her input when asked, and finds herself listened.
It's a strange feeling.
In the Red Room, it was less a collaborative planning, and more of a, either she plans the whole thing with Madame B going through it before approving, or it was a direct mission fully planned out that she's just supposed to follow-through, no questions asked.
They were amateurs, that much was obvious with the way they solve problems and the lack of risks taken into consideration. Clearly lacked experience in the field, but Natasha can't fault them for having a normal life compared to her so she sits back and starts her own backup plan.
When the simulations started, Natasha watched carefully and attentively.
They weren't all doing the same scenario, but the setup were similar.
Same type of room, just a different mission.
Some were data retrieval, some were hostage rescue, some were just infiltration and observation.
Most of the other teams got stuck on the same situation. Alarms were on, enemies were crowding, and they had nowhere to go. Some of them tried fighting out the enemies but that didn't work, others tried to sneak around the other side to hopefully gain access to the door but the enemies were too smart to fall for that.
Cornered with a reinforced glass pane that leads to the next room at the end of the hallway near the stairwell.
That is obviously the answer.
But no one seems to figure out how to get out through the next room.
And Natasha wants to laugh.
Surely someone would figure out the obvious answer.
Getting up for their turn, Natasha goes through the parts where everyone had no issues with. She works closely with Agent Moore to ensure that the data was well kept and they tried to keep the alarms from going off, but clearly something is triggering it that they missed out on.
Natasha files that information away so she can go through the mission debrief again later.
Once again finding them cornered, Agent Moore is clearly panicking like the others. He kept a neutral face but Natasha can see the way his breathing is just a little more laboured and his steps were less calculated and more reactive.
Natasha hears the footsteps of the 'people' coming closer and knew that they had to escape now if anything. Signalling for Agent Moore to keep close behind her, she takes her gun and aims it at the glass pane.
"What is she doing? It's reinforced glass," someone whispered behind Phil, and he just smiles, "Just watch."
One shot at the glass and it cracks but doesn't break much like she expected.
She takes hold of the chair in the room with them and throws it into the glass, shattering it into pieces before getting out with Agent Moore and successfully escaping the room and the group of people trailing behind them.
When it was over, Phil gathered everyone in the room.
"How did you know that would work?" he asks, and Natasha stood a little straighter when her teammates all looked at her.
"Mission debrief mentioned that the place is lined with reinforced glass and walls, reinforced doesn't mean bulletproof," was the easy answer.
"Yes. Reinforced just means it's made to handle a certain something better, but it does not mean that it's full-proof. Knowing the difference is important because you will be able to utilise your environment better."
Natasha tuned him out as her hands grabbed the mission folder that was distributed earlier.
That alarm was an issue, and she will not let such a sloppy mistake happen again. But first she needed to understand what went wrong.
"Agent Romanov?" she hears Agent Coulson calling her.
Looking up, she can see his curious expression eyeing the folder in her hand.
Not wanting to get caught not paying attention, she voices out her question before being accused, "How did the alarm get triggered?"
Agent Coulson gave her one of those warm smile. The one that was slightly patronizing, the one that you'd use when trying to explain to a kid why his well thought out answer is wrong because it's not a fact.
"You guys never disabled it fully, she might have disabled the alarm at the front but the internal one that was notified of your arrival by the agent there manually, was never dealt with."
Natasha fought hard to keep the anger from showing on her face. This is exactly why she hates working in groups. The slack she has to pick up for other people, making things just extra difficult for her instead of being useful.
Fucking incompetent teammates.
Keeping her voice as even as she can, "I thought we mentioned this during the planning, to keep an eye on the security system."
Agent Mehra looked down guiltily, "Sorry, I noticed the alarms too late. By the time I realised, it already did it's job in alarming the other agents working there."
Natasha might have masked her voice, but her eyes were as sharp as a predator.
Phil saw it and tries to stop this from escalating, "Agent Romanov."
"What's the point of bringing things up in the planning phase if we're just gonna forget it." Everyone else stood still in the room. For once none of the boys even tried to butt in, everyone frozen from the sharp gaze of the Black Widow and the anger that was radiating off of her.
Agent Mehra honestly is doing well considering that he's under the full blast of the Black Widow's anger right now, his voice shakes only a little as he tries to plays it off, "I'm sorry. But at least the mission wasn't compromised."
Natasha scoffed, "The mission was compromised. The alarms being triggered notified the other agents to our location, if the glass was in fact bullet-proof then we might've been trapped in there with no way out."
"Agent Romanov, that's enough." Agent Coulson's voice cuts through the tension in the room.
Some let out a breath of relief - especially Agent Mehra.
The other members from Natasha's team are also subtly pulling Agent Mehra back further to avoid the Black Widow's wrath.
No one dared to fight her on this, given that she looks like she'll kill someone, but also they can't argue with what she's saying.
Phil finds himself cringing internally.
So that was good because Agent Romanov obviously performed as well as expected, but it was also bad because now he's gonna be stuck with a half pissed Black Widow and trying to explain the concept of not being a dick to your teammates.
"It's lunch time, everyone is dismissed. Agent Romanov, I'll have a word with you please."
As soon as everyone filed out the room, Natasha realises that she's alone in a room with her superior.
Oh no.
"Natasha, that was out of line," was the first thing he said to her.
Shaking herself off the spiral in her mind, she stood firm and gaze straight ahead - not at him, but past him.
The General always hated when she looked him directly in the eyes, but also hated when she's not looking in his direction.
"But she compromised the mission."
Phil nods, "I understand that you might be frustrated that someone didn't perform to your expectation, but you can't go blaming other people whenever something like this happens."
"Why not?" and the question was a genuine one.
As far as she's concerned, she was doing Agent Mehra a favour by pointing out his mistakes. He could remember and learn the lesson better to avoid such mistakes in the future. It's good not just for other agents but also for him.
Agent Coulson tries to phrase it as best as he could, "Would you want other people to blame you if you made a mistake during a mission?"
"If I've done something wrong then yes, how else am I supposed to learn?"
Okay, not wrong, but slightly skewed perspective that isn't necessarily the most productive one.
Trying again, he taps into the idea of guilt and self-blame, "But you would know if you've made a mistake, what good is it for other people to blame you when you'll already be feeling guilty?"
And Natasha didn't have an answer.
Yes.
Most of the time she knows that she's at fault, knows what she did wrong, and probably prepares herself for the consequences of the mistake.
Seeing the hesitation in the Black Widow, Phil counts that as a win.
Maybe I am getting through her!
Doubling down on that train of concept, "It's one thing to point out that someone made a mistake, to have them understand what they did wrong, but it's pointless to make them feel bad about it," taking a bet, he tries to pull her past experiences to make sure she fully understands the situation, "I don't think you needed your madames to blame you for your mistakes after missions when you were in the Red Room, did you?"
And suddenly Natasha finds herself struggling to ground herself.
Being alone in the room with Agent Coulson is proving to be a lot for her.
He was standing in front of her, and it reminds her of the General.
The way his voice is saying things in such a kind way, that it also reminds her of the General.
He was never loud or aggressive unless he's angry.
And suddenly the walls are closing in on her.
"Agent Romanov?" Agent Coulson calls out, but all Natasha can hear is the General's voice.
My little spider.
Have I not warned you about this?
Disappointing me?
In Phil's mind, all he can hear is fuck fuck fuck.
He fucked up, he definitely did.
The Black Widow is looking at him blankly as her breathing starts to pick up the pace. He's scared that he's pushed her too far.
Taking a step back, he softens his voice, "Natasha?"
Agent Romanov snaps her attention on Phil.
And a flash of fear runs across her face, she bolts before her mind catches up on what she's saying, "I'm going for lunch."
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@strangezeroz welcome to tumblr where the app decides when you can be gifted with the sight of og memes, you cannot look for these yourself via the search engine, you won’t find them, you have to wait to be gifted them
For those of you who might be new here, Tumblr has no algorithm, legendary memes are brought to your dash by mutuals like pet cats bringing you dead birds.
11 and this is totally not me asking for recommendations for Natasha related fics 👀
VALID. I'm gonna recommend a few but they won't be x reader fics cause I generally don't consume them (despite writing so many mob nat hmm-)
Fugitive Turned Youtuber by Virginia_Blue such a good and relatively fun read throughout! (Blackhill)
Silver Linings by QuietlyImplode is a personal favorite but if you like Natasha whump then anything from them is a good choice. They really put Natasha through the wringer across their stories and it's always so well written! I've shed many tears reading their works! (Clintasha mostly - but the bond between Natasha and the other OG6 members are one of my fav aspects of their writing too!)
Conversational Junctures by thesoundofasmile shows the bond between Natasha and other characters that we never really got to see from the movies (OG6, Clint's family, agents of shield etc). If you enjoy reading Nat-centric fics that explores her life outside of what we've seen from the infinity saga then anything from them is a really good pick <3
21. Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?
I'll never say never, but also I can't imagine how that would work out. I'm deeply controlling when it comes to where I feel like a story should go and the dialogues between characters I tend to feel very strongly about. But it could be fun to dissect and discuss with other writers to see how their creative process goes :D So maybe? maybe not?
23. Best writing advice for other writers?
Use Ellipsus! It's such a great writing...platform? (idk what to call it im blanking- just use this instead of g.docs/m.word) I can't stress this enough!!!!
Onto more writing related advice - write for yourself. Write what you'd wanna read. You need to be a fan of what you're writing, you need to want to read what you're writing - because not only is this important when it comes to getting the motivation to write, you will also be more creative and engaged when writing something that you're actually passionate about!
Curious about 16 and 56 :) And 77 for the the mob nat series in general? :)
Thank you for asking (I miss mob nat so much help-)
Putting this under the cut cause I ranted and it got too long- OOPSKSDJKSJ
16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?
Too many. For Nat, I actually have a few one-shots that's been sitting in the WIP folder. I have a blackhill one where it's the classic 5+1 trope of Natasha showing signs that she trusts Maria before their relationship. I also have another one where it's sort of an AU where Yelena is still angry at Natasha post BW movie and how that might play out. I also have a Loki WIP where it's a what if Hela grew up in Asgard with her siblings. (This might never see the light of day because despite Loki being my SECOND fav MCU character he is so unbelievably hard to write-)
56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?
I personally think I do a good job at fleshing out different relationships between characters that shows the different facet of them (different masks they wear when dealing with different people) while keeping it somehow true to the characters. It comes from my obsession of analyzing relationships between characters but also understanding how different parts of a character might invoke a different reaction from other characters. I also like to think I'm better at writing conversation over describing action/situation. Years of talking to myself and having imaginary conversations with no one definitely shaped this somewhat useful skill (i think?)
77. Do you have a favorite scene you’ve written from mob Nat story/chapter?
To be completely honest my favorite tends to differ from what people like to see/respond to. One of my fav piece for that series is [why you got me so obsessed with you?] where I love the parts with Tony and I love the parts with Bucky, and also the ending of Nat and R just in the room talking. The first two were such fun characters to write opposite R, while the final scene with Nat was just so emotionally vulnerable to me that I love seeing them softly in love and dealing with things maturely (talking).
Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?
Neither. My fav is actually multiple one-shots in the same sort of universe. I always have ideas that are too scattered across the timeline (it's always like stretched out across a couple of years at least) so multi-chapter fics feels hard since I either need to find a good way to time skip or I need to fill in the blanks for the other times.
18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with the titles?
I love using lyrics as fic title. I always have music going on in the background when I write, and I also love analyzing lyrics when I get the time. So naturally I'll have a certain album or artist that I sort of pin on certain characters. When I'm writing for that character then the lyrics that I find most fitting for the scene/chapter will very naturally become the fic title! :D Choosing the most suitable one generally comes after I'm done with the fic/chapter, but sometimes I will start writing something after hearing some lyrics and got inspired by it, so it's a 90/10 mix of both after/before i suppose :D
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I’ve lived alone cooking for one and I’ve been the main cook in the house for several people. I’ve worked with a budget of ten dollars and I’ve worked with a weekly budget of three hundred dollars. And either way there’s just never enough freezer space somehow.
so embarrassing to watch yourself become obsessed with a character that feels tailor made for you specifically to become obsessed with. feels like i fell into a trap made just for me. like damn they got me. those are all the things i like and go crazy for
Hello! This is an interest check for a Natasha-centric week event that will take place in October or November 2026.
This initial assessment is for us to have an idea of how many people are interested in participating, as well as to vote on the exact dates of the event.
You can access the interest form by clicking here, or copying and pasting the following address on your browser: https://forms.gle/9gGbocz9RsQMF4pe7
The form will be up until June 18th.
If you have any questions, the askbox is open (anon is on).
The mods of this event are @/system-of-cells-interlinked and @/snowberriesromanoff
YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN HANDLE CRITIQUE. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN EMBRACE BEING TOLD YOU WERE WRONG. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN ACCOMPLISH UNPLEASANT TASKS. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN DELIVER DISAPPOINTING NEWS. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU KNOW HOW TO BE DISAGREED WITH. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN BE CORRECTED. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU CAN BE TOLD YOU MESSED UP. YOU ARE A REGULAR GUY. YOU ARE ABLE TO DO HARD THINGS.
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Summary: Your mind is plagued by the woman, and of course you had to stalk her.
Warnings: 18+ themes, guns mentioned.
A/N: This was the first scene that came to me when I started writing this AU. The idea of obsessed R instead of the other way around (which I also lurve). Let me know what y'all wanna see next! <3
You thought it would end there.
Just a stupid thing that happened at work that's crazy enough for you to have a party story ready.
But your mind unfortunately drifts to the redhead whenever it can.
Taking a shower? You're imagining the redhead between your thighs.
Making a coffee? You're thinking about how her lips will feel against yours.
Just out taking a stroll? Your brain comes up with the phantom feeling of her hands on your back and breath against your neck.
Fuck.
You don't even know why.
Truly, when you gave her a little dance that day, the most that happened was her hand settling on your waist when you straddled her.
No forced kisses, no unwanted touches, no eyes lingering on your lips.
Her eyes were appreciative of your figure, that much was clear; but it never made you feel uncomfortable.
Heck, the guys you've dealt with has given you more dangerous looks than she did that whole night.
So, like any reasonable sane person, you googled her.
You got her name that night. The girls were all whispering when you left the room that night, and for once they seemed relieved that you were alright. They came up to you, asked if you were alright and then began gossiping about what went down.
All you remembered was Natasha Romanoff.
Her name.
Google didn't help, much.
You see crimes that might or might not be related to her.
Blood, gun, corruption, filth.
Again, nothing you didn't expect.
Logically, you know that this little obsession isn't good for you. She's way too dangerous, and obviously getting close to her can only end in your untimely death. But between your lack of family, lack of friends, and depressing job, what can you lose?
Ironically, this is the most alive you've felt in years.
It was as if you finally have something to live for.
Something you desire.
Something you look forward to.
So you begin crafting a meeting with her.
You have the perfect scenario playing in your mind, you'd figure out her schedule, find out which bar or club she might frequent and act like you're bumping into her there one night. Strike up a conversation, entice her a little, and hopefully end the night with one of your fantasies fulfilled.
You start by some good ole fashion stalking. You found her operation base, jot down her car plate, recognize the few people that she works closely with…
You try to figure out her schedule, but she doesn't really have a fixed schedule. Which makes sense for someone in her line of business. So carefully, you began stalking her in hopes to craft a way to 'accidentally bump into her'.
Today is just like any other day, you're keeping your distance while you follow her across town. She headed downtown, went to a bank and then now she's probably headed to a hotel that you notice she frequents - maybe a side business for money laundering?
You follow her from across the street, your eyes carefully keeping her in sight. She rounds a corner and you keep up. You see her take out a cig and light it up - god that's hot, and this distraction caused you; because before you know it, you see her making direct eye contact with you through the reflected window on her street.
Oh fuck - was the first thought.
Turning around, she actually looks at you and you bolt.
Running down the street, slipping between the crowd, and back into an alley that you were familiar with, you didn't hear anything behind you. Stopping to catch your breath, you peek out the alley and don't see anything.
God - that was fucking close.
"You really need to be more careful," you heard, and your brain wasn't catching up that it's a voice from outside instead of the voices in your head.
"I know, I just got distracted for a second," you said, used to talking to yourself this way.
You feel something poking your back, and the familiar sound of a gun cocking behind you.
"Who sent you?"
Oh. Fuck.
Naturally, you raised your hands to show that you weren't a threat while you slowly turn around. There she was, the woman who's been haunting your thoughts at every moment for the past few weeks.
You see her nonchalant stance, clearly not threatened by you at all. One hand in her pocket while the other was holding the gun.
A slow head tilt before recognition flashes across her eyes.
"You're the stripper from the club," was her comment, tone in confusion but also an edge to it.
"No one sent me," you don't wanna die. Not like this.
Under her gun, yes - you have issues, what else is new. But not like this in an alley when she thought you were some spy sent by other people.
You'd never betray her.
"I could believe you, or I could just shoot you and not have to worry about anything," and she was technically right.
But you also know her better than this.
She's not one to just kill for the sake of it.
No.
She'd probably wanna get to the bottom of this.
And oh my god that would be humiliating for you.
How do you even begin explaining that?
Hey, you won't believe me but I followed you for weeks cause you've been plaguing my mind even though you didn't do anything to me?
Oh my god.
You're pathetic.
"I'm not…I'm not a threat, you know that," your voice came out shaky, half by the dire situation you've found yourself in, but also half due to how gorgeous she is standing right in front of you.
You could use some therapy, but no one has the time or money for that shit.
She looks you up and down, obviously finding something in your body language and nods. "Let's take this talk to my office, you know where that is, right?"
"Yes," and your cheeks could not be redder at this moment.
