natasha romanoff oneshots

stolen childhood part one

The Avengers' common room buzzed with the usual energy. Laughter and the clinking of cutlery filled the air as the team enjoyed a rare moment of relaxation together. Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff sat across from each other, their usual playful banter escalating into a full-blown mock argument.

"I told you, Nat, you can't beat me in a shooting contest. I don't miss," Clint teased, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Oh, please," Natasha shot back, rolling her eyes. "I've beaten you before, and I'll do it again. How about another bet, just to make it interesting?"

The rest of the team listened, amused by their exchange. Steve Rogers chuckled, shaking his head, while Tony Stark looked up from his plate with a smirk.

"What's the bet this time?" Bruce Banner asked, curious.

"Loser has to clean the winner's gear for a month," Natasha proposed, her eyes twinkling with confidence.

"Deal," Clint agreed, extending his hand.

Before they could seal the deal with a handshake, the sound of gunshots shattered the moment. The team sprang to their feet, eyes darting towards the entrance. A group of Black Widows burst into the room, their eyes locked onto Natasha, their leader barking orders to capture her.

"Get her!"

The Avengers sprang into action. Clint reached for his bow, Steve grabbed his shield, and Tony's suit began to assemble around him. Natasha, familiar with her former comrades' tactics, barked out commands and advice to her team.

"Take out their legs, they're less stable that way!" she shouted, demonstrating with a swift kick that sent one Widow sprawling.

Bruce Banner let out a roar, transforming into the Hulk and smashing through the attackers with ease. Wanda Maximoff's hands glowed red as she used her magic to fend off the relentless onslaught. Despite their best efforts, more Widows poured in through the windows, overwhelming the team.

In the chaos, a tall figure entered the room. Dreykov, the man who had controlled Natasha's life for so long, strode in with a sinister smile. Natasha froze at the sight of him, her eyes wide with shock and fear. Dreykov seized the opportunity, grabbing her roughly and slamming her against the wall, his grip tight and unyielding.

"Natasha!" Clint yelled, struggling against a Widow who had him pinned down. "Let her go, Dreykov, or you'll regret it!"

Dreykov laughed, a cold, heartless sound. "Oh, I've missed you, Natasha. It's time to bring you back home."

The team fought desperately, but one by one, they were subdued and handcuffed, forced to watch as Dreykov tormented Natasha. He touched her with a sickening familiarity, his grin widening as he saw the revulsion and helplessness in her eyes.

"You always were a traitor, Natasha," he sneered. "Leaving us was a mistake you'll pay for dearly."

Natasha struggled to remain composed, but her body trembled. Dreykov's words cut deep, rekindling old wounds. "You're useless," he continued, his voice dripping with contempt. "Just like your mother."

Steve Rogers, his voice filled with fury, shouted, "Don't listen to him, Natasha! You're stronger than this!"

But Dreykov's words had already struck a nerve. "Your mother fought to save you," he said, his voice a cruel whisper. "But she was too weak. Just like you."

Natasha gasped, the weight of his words crashing down on her. The guilt and hatred she had harbored for her mother suffocated her, and she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably and cursing in Russian.