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Natasha is a highly trained assassin and an avenger, she has saved the planet more times than she cares to count, but even she makes mistakes.
And this, this is a mistake, she's become too comfortable - too sloppy and now she's paying the price. The safety of a stable home at the avengers' tower, a loving family unit, and Wanda's steady presence at her side making her feel safer than she can ever remember feeling before in her life, luring her into the false sense of security that has lead to her current predicament.
Yet even with her wrists tied to the arms of a metal chair, and her ankles tied to the legs, Natasha is more worried about her girlfriend's reaction than these fools' feeble attempt at scaring her. Wanda is going to kill her. Well, she will kill the people holding her hostage first but Natasha is definitely not getting away easily from her wrath. She had promised to be gone for only a couple minutes, just enough time to jog to the local bakery and grab some of the pastries Wanda loves, but then she had been caught off guard and surrounded - and now it's dark out, and Natasha is going to die a very painful death, she should've never left the warmth of their bed.
Should've never waved off Wanda's attempts at keeping her in their room.
Should've never allowed herself to relax enough to be caught by surprise by halfwits.
"What do we have here?"
The men pushing through the door all laugh at their leader's nasally remark, and Natasha is becoming more and more aware of how much being in these boys capture is going to suck - not for the torture or the taunts, but because of their obvious youth and stupidity. At least she will not be here for much longer, any second now Wanda is going to blast down the walls and untie her, and then they will take these boys down together, side by side. But for now, Nat can hold out for as long as Wanda needs.
"Looks like we've got a quiet one boys." One of the boys jeered, a chubby hand patting his beer belly as he chuckled at his own poor joke.
Natasha holds back an eye-roll at their pure immaturity, instead forcing her body to completely relax, spreading her legs as wide as the rope allows and leaning back, allowing the cold metal of the chair to dig into her spine. Her tactic works immediately, the boys are now watching her closer, seeming offended at her lack of care - just how she wants them, the more insulted they are, the less they will talk.
The leader of the group, a boy barely out of his teenage years, lanky limbs lacking muscle and face still retaining baby fat, makes his way towards her stopping just a foot away from her chair. He leans close, musky breath brushing her cheek as he sneers, "Bring me the lighter."
Knowing better than to give him a reaction, Nat remains still and doesn't let the threat faze her. She has experienced much worse than a few burns in her years, hell, compared to some of her past torture sessions a few burns seems like a picnic.
The lighter is a small thing, light blue and hand-size, but as the boy in front of her starts dragging it across her skin with a gleeful smile on his face, Natasha realizes how wrong she was about this being painless. It's not the worst pain she's experienced, not by miles but the boy seems to be enjoying her pain too much for this to be easy - she has always found sadists the most unpredictable.
She attempts to stay stoic but as the fire traces patterns into her forearm, too close to her skin to not be leaving a scar, a hiss escapes her mouth and that appears to spur the boy on even more - like everyone else in the room has disappeared and all he can see is the flame and her reddening skin.
It hurts, the fiery path invades her veins and she finds herself fighting back the urge to flinch every time the flame licks ever so closer to her skin. She may be experienced in dealing with torture but right now her experience is not as helpful as it usually - she normally has some control but she is completely loosing the thread she had to the boy's morbid fascination with the flame.
As the burns scar her skin, and the fire becomes stronger, all Natasha can think about is Wanda - where is she?
She should have been here by now, should have already busted down the door and saved her but she's not.
As the flame dances in front of her eyes Natasha comes to a painful conclusion;
Wanda's not coming.