The Fire in Which We Burn (Natasha x F!Reader)

Chapter 1: You Should Be On Your Knees for Me

Warnings: manhandling, threat, paralytic drugs, burns and mild injury

  "On the ground! You are surrounded!"

For once they weren't lying, although after the stunt you'd just pulled anything less would have been an insult. There were three agents on a nearby roof, their little red dots flickering over your chest (well, two were; one was aimed somewhere near your liver and you wondered whether this was the sniper's first mission. Just your luck to be taken out by a rookie).

Six agents were closing in on you, approaching from the sides. Four were toting non-lethal pistols but your attention was on the two coming from the left, each of whom were armed with the killing kind. Two more were moving in from behind when the woman in charge of the operation stepped forward, red hair pulled back in a tight bun.

"Agent Romanoff, what an honour. I don't like your hair like that." You lifted your hands above your head, giving a dramatic bow which earned you nothing more than a sharp glare from the red head. Righted, you dared to take a step closer and asked, "Have you come to take me away? Lock me up somewhere terribly scary?"

"Yes."

Oh, she was no fun at all! There you were in your best coat, half of downtown ablaze because of you, and the beautiful, tremendously sexy Avenger that had come to bring you in wouldn't even exchange pleasantries, let alone some sarcastic banter. What was the world coming to?

With a dramatic sigh, you got down on your knees and held your hands behind your skull. In other circumstances, you might have fought your way out but you weren't in the mood to risk a bullet to the heart today. There would be other chances to die in grand villainous style; it wasn't like SHIELD had a prison capable of holding you anyway.

"You should be on your knees for me."

Already bored of this, your mind was wandering, imagining just how pleasurable that might be. The cold, heartless Black Widow at your feet, a willing prisoner, ready to serve her mistress however she could. You laughed at the absurdity of the thought - Romanoff would never yield so easily, but then perhaps the struggle was half of the fun - but tucked the fantasy away in the corners of your mind nonetheless. The next week or two in prison would be lonely, after all.

Romanoff approached, confident but wary. Rightly so. She pulled your arms down then snapped a cold pair of handcuffs around your wrists. You had no time to ponder how this scenario might fit into your fantasies for a sharp pain shot up your arm, a needle injecting some kind of liquid into your bloodstream.

"No need to drug me, Agent Romanoff. I'd have come willingly for you."

You blinked a few times, refocusing on her face as she strode back into view. Tapping a device on her wrist, no doubt summoning a transport unit to collect you, Romanoff barely looked at you as she said, "It inhibits your powers."

You huffed, a little offended. Just because you were in cuffs didn't mean you were any less dangerous and yet there she was acting as though you weren't even there. So rude. You'd have to teach her some manners one day. "I'm not stupid. I know what it does. Once upon a time, I was on the team that developed it."

"Get up."

Romanoff grabbed your arm and pulled you roughly to your feet. You were suddenly quite grateful for her assistance as the entire world had become blurry and if asked you wouldn't be able to differentiate between up and down. Obviously the formula was far stronger than you remembered.

As you veered off to the side, Black Widow yanked your arm with such force that you were certain you felt your shoulder pop. The only saving grace was that the serum contained a sedative meaning you wouldn't feel the pain until it wore off.