Avengers x Reader One Shots

All My Fault ✨ Avengers x Teen!Reader - 8 Apr 21

Based off the fic "The Kill Box" by

You wake groggily as a slap lands. Your cheek is already stinging, leading you to realize that you've already been slapped a couple of times. Another slap hits and your face turns with the force of it as you finish waking up.

"Well, well, well. So good of you to finally join us, fräulein."

The man beside you is hidden in the shadows of the seemingly abandoned warehouse. You glance over at him with a smirk. "Ah, you've caught me," you say lethargically, unaffected by your position or the chair to which you are strapped.

"Indeed. And I believe you have some information for us, on the Avengers and SHIELD—information that even your friends are not fully privy too."

"I'll pass, thanks for the offer," you snark back.

"I thought you might say that." A screen flickers on in the background, lighting his silhouette. You look up and a pang of fear goes through you when you notice Steve, Nat, Tony, and Clint trapped in respective tiny rooms—more boxes than rooms. "You see, we have taken the liberty of garnering up some... motivation for you to help us reach a mutual agreement."

Your response is flippant, an uncaring facade that at least gives the man some start. "Yeah, no, do whatever you want. Have fun."

Even without being able to see his features almost at all, you can still make out his lecherous grin. "We will, fräulein, we will."

You force your face into a stony neutral as he walks to a small set of three buttons on a standing panel. The man clicks one, and immediately you hear a yelp as Clint convulses before falling down, having been electrocuted. You wince as his head hits the wall during his collapse due to the small confines of the box he is in, about the size of a department store dressing room.

The next button is hit, causing water to fill Steve's small chamber. It take everything in you not to beg for them to stop as you watch your friend cough and struggle to breath, drowning. You don't have too much time to focus on it, though, before a third button is clicked, causing the table Tony is laid out on to spread. You hold back a wince as he obviously grinds his teeth, being pulled apart like a human rope in a tug-o-war.

"What are you doing to Black Widow, then?" You ask evenly, not letting your emotions show.

Again with that lecherous grin, sending shivers down your spine. "Ever heard of white torture?" You bite your tongue and don't reply. The man walks closer. "This can all be over with, if you'd just give us your information."

Your face remains impassive, causing your captor to grow angry. "Fine, then. Suit yourself."

You don't know how long you end up being in that room for. Only that the hours of agony due to the slow torture of your friends isn't reflected by any passing of light, due to being indoors and hidden from the outside world. After the first few times, you couldn't watch as they were tortured, instead opting to watch after. It ended up being worse—watching Clint collapse and pant for breath, wincing as he got up, the soles of his feet black from being burned by the electroshock. Watching Steve gasp and cough, expelling all the water from his lungs and resting his head on the crook of his elbow as he leans against the wall for relief. Watching Tony bite his tongue for as long as he can before it becomes too much to bear, before he ends up crying out in pain from the strain on his muscles.

So you find yourself watching Nat, but even that was horrifying in its own way. Sure, she wasn't having anything done to her, but watching her sit there, blank, emotionless, staring at the wall—to any other outsider, it would seem that she was fine. But you know her; she's about five seconds away from tearing her hair out.