wrong number----- avengers fanfic

'14' deep thinking

Nat pov

If I wasn't taken in by the avengers I would've definitely been a great detective. I mean the red room, as traumatic as it was, did teach me a lot. And I was the best widow they'd ever have. I was discreet, careful, deadly. But most of all I was really good at getting clues and right now my skills were put to use.

I know y/n already suspected who she was talking to, I know she suspected it was us. It's not like we were quite secretive about it. Or maybe we were and she was just really good. I don't know but I do know is that we have to be more careful than ever especially now that we have her working on the inside.

As much as I would like to meet the real her. We can't. Because she can never know who she's talking to.

Although I am worried about her.

I'm worried about her home life about her life in general. What goes on through her head?

Is she ok?

Why was she so hurt?

There were too many question splitting through my head. I went down to the training room to try and clear them.

Y/n pov

Eventually I had to say goodbye to Mae. We both went our separate ways. She turned toward the rich side of the city and I turned to the poor side of the city. Although we seemed like complete opposites we really weren't.

Mae was my neighbor for a really long time, her mom worked two jobs while her dad rotted himself to death on the couch, he was a big drug addict and an alcoholic and he'd deal drugs for our entire neighborhood, Mae had access to drugs before she had access to a phone. She got hooked really young. I pitied her and I understood her. Her mom finally left her dad and she knew what she had to do, she married rich and they moved to where the rich husband lived. But the damage in Mae had already been done, she was already in addict, she was dealing drugs for our school, she tried to overdose a couple months back, she wasn't in a healthy mental state and well that's when her mom noticed and they decided that instead of giving her the help she needed all she needed was a vacation, three months overseas, traveling the Caribbean, Atlantic, and Pacific. She had come back a month early though. I didn't know why and I didn't bother to ask.

I was standing outside my house, afraid of what was coming. A tornado whirled inside my stomach. I took a deep breath and walked inside, dread lying in a pool at the bottom of my stomach.

I tried to shut the door as quietly as I could. Not knowing his face would already be staring me down.

My breath hitched and as soon as I smelled the sour smell of day old beer a wave of nausea washed over me. I looked at my uncle with pure fear in my eyes.

"You have the privilege of coming home here and you're not allowed to abuse it, that's a privilege you don't get. You can't just waltz in and out of here as you please that's a rule. Understood?" He leaned down so I could hear better.

I nodded frantically. He pushed me against the wall and I let out a frightened whimper.

"UNDERSTOOD?" He slapped me and I nodded.
"WORDS" he ordered. He kicked my stomach and I coughed, "Yes sir" I managed to croak out.

"Good ok" he threw me onto the floor. He kicked me one more time then picked me up again. He held me by my collar and looked me straight in the eyes.

"I'm glad we came to an agreement" he smiled maliciously. I tried to hold my tears back.

He kneed my stomach one more time, hard. All the oxygen escaped my lungs and I felt the bitter and metal taste of blood in my mouth.

A few drops fell on the floor as I began coughing aggressively.

"Clean that shit up" he ordered and he threw me back on the floor. He went out the door and shut it. I regained my breath and cleaned up the blood before he came back home.

He had gone soft, I actually thought he'd do something worse but his punishment wasn't as bad as I though it would be. To be honest it was rather mild punishment compared to the ones he's given me before.

Still, I felt so alone. I made my way upstairs and lay stomach down on my bed. I wanted to get out of here so badly, not out of this house but out of this life, this world. I was so sick and tired of the world constantly throwing shit at me as if telling me to 'suck it up' or 'find a way' or 'deal with it'. I was so tired. Tears ran down my cheeks when I heard someone knock on the door. We weren't expecting visitors, we never were.

I pulled myself off the bed and ran to see myself in the mirror. My eyes were puffy and red from all the crying and I had a bit of dried blood on the side of my mouth. I grabbed my concealer as quickly as I could and touched up my under eyes. I grabbed a damp towel I had laying around and wiped the blood off.

"COMING!" I yelled down.

I ran down and opened the door without thinking about looking through the peephole first. I plastered a fake smile on as I opened the door. My smile faded as soon as I saw who it was.

"What are you doing here?" I ask bitterly.

A/n
Basically I'm updating this on vacation cs I had a lil time in my hands but anyways

Do y'all know how to stop mosquito bites from itching?? Cs like I'm in El Salvador rn n y'all my skin is so prone to like mosquito bites n they are so Mff itchy n I'm trying not to scratch them but it's hard you guysss😭😭

Help🙏🙏

Anyways how y'all been honey bunches

Who do y'all think is standing in front of y'all😛

1059 words