#dark!natasha romanoff x f!reader
Text
ours
pairing(s): dark!wanda maximoff x f!reader, dark!wanda maximoff x dark!natasha romanoff x f!reader
summary:
You grin, slinging the sodden rag over one shoulder and fixing Wanda with a playfully contemplative look. “Your drink of choice. Vieux Carré—”
“Hold the lemon,” Wanda finishes, the corner of her lips twitching—threatening a smirk.
You nod and dip your chin—by all accounts, seeming quite shy all of a sudden. “Did I get it right?” you ask, wide-eyed and hopeful—desperately searching Wanda’s bemused features for a hint of approval. Her approval.
Gods, she thinks to herself, telltale warmth pooling low in her belly at the sight of you. You’re perfect.
word count: ~4,100
rating: teen
warnings: wanda being kind of unhinged, natasha ALSO being kind of unhinged... generally non-consensual dynamics going on, etc etc. kidnapping for sure!
notes: implied female reader (through russian/bulgarian terminology). and on that note, wanda uses a bulgarian dialect because i say so! i guess! .. idk this has been sitting in my docs for a minute now but it’s here! i figured a little post couldn’t hurt while i continue to work on other stuff (that being the ‘find you again’ series update and the recent request i got about queen ramonda)
— —
Wanda Maximoff has always harbored something of a… possessive streak. Particularly where it concerns the things—people—that she wants.
There’s a certain mania in it, she knows—a type of delirium in allowing something to consume you with such sovereignty. A complete loss of self; a sense of desire so vast, you’ll kill every last part of yourself in a bid to make it stay.
She knows this. She thinks a part of her always has. It used to scare her, once upon a time.
But then… well. Aliens invaded. Scientists happened. High Evolutionary, HYDRA… Her mind is a mess of jumbled recollections—their mess. Ultron, S.W.O.R.D., Erik, Agatha. A flicker of bright electric blue; trails of cobalt mist floating on air, curled around her like the arms of somebody she used to know. Two little boys, wide-eyed and earnest. Twins, just like…
A swift movement in her periphery interrupts her train of thought, yanking her back to the present.
Sound assaults her eardrums on all sides: overlapping chatter, wooden chairs scraping the floors, the faint clinking sounds of cubed ice swirling around in glass tumblers. She blinks—once, twice—and forces herself to relax as a slender figure takes a seat across from her with all the practiced grace of a prima ballerina.
“Couldn’t stay away?” Natalia’s eyes—no longer colored her natural green, but a subtle shade of muted blue—dance with amusement. If Wanda looks intently enough, she can see the edges of each contact lens around her irises. She’s bleached her eyebrows, and toned them, too; they’re now a flaxen platinum hue which makes the blue of her (faux) irises really pop.
Wanda shrugs, eyeing the bar out the corner of her eye. The bar, behind which you scurry tirelessly this way and that, serving mixed drinks and tap beer and the occasional shot of something harder to a never-ending procession of barely-legal college kids, billiards-enthused grad students, and haggard-looking blue-collar workers fresh off a 10-hour shift.
“You’re blonde again,” she remarks instead without bothering to tear her gaze away. You’ve always been such a hard worker—even on days that you have every right to be the opposite. It’s one of the many things she admires about you.
Natalia’s smirk widens, though Wanda hardly catches it. “Figured I’d go for something a little more… subtle,” she responds, tucking an errant lock of strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear. In the same motion, she turns to angle herself just so, such that she too can monitor your diligent movements from out the corner of her eye. “She’s off at 1:00.”
You’re wiping down the bartop with a damp rag now, and chuckling good-naturedly at a joke one particularly greasy-looking patron has (apparently) told. If you take note of the lecherous way he stares down your shirt as you lean in to scrub at a particularly sticky spot on the burnished wood, you do well not to show it.
Wanda does. Wanda notices everything about you.
Her jaw creaks from clenching it so hard.
It’s only Natalia’s voice, clear and calm, which reaches her through the noise—blood rushing, elevated heart rate pounding in her ears. “Easy,” she cautions lowly.
Easy, Wanda repeats internally.
“She’s mine,” Wanda hears herself snarl, fists clenched tightly in her lap as she glares daggers over at the source of her ire. Limp-dicked pervert.
“Ours,” Natalia corrects. There’s a certain edge to her tone, this time—one that Wanda, even as furious as she is, knows better than to disregard.
With some effort, she tears her gaze from you and looks at Natalia, who levels her with a high-browed look in return.
“Sorry,” Wanda mumbles, dipping her chin with genuine contrition. (She’s careful not to lose you in her periphery all the same.)
Natalia analyzes her for a brief moment, then gives a shallow nod. “Be patient,” she murmurs, pitching her voice just over the hubbub and chatter filling the pub. “It won’t be long now.”
“Promise?” she asks—pleads, really; quite suddenly feeling so very, very small.
Natalia has a way of doing that—of making her feel small, and vulnerable, and meek where no one else can, because Wanda swore to herself that she’d never let them. Not again. Not after Stark, and Ultron, and the ever-elusive ghost of a hazel-eyed boy whose name she can’t for the life of her recall.
She’s simply worked too hard, lost far too much to willfully prostrate herself in such a way. There’s nothing to be gained by kneeling at the foot of someone bigger, stronger, meaner ; nothing beyond pain and suffering without end. She knows that better than most.
Natalia is different.
And when Natalia’s lips curve to form a delectably crooked grin, mischief sparking itself alight in her eyes, Wanda is reminded of exactly why that is. And when she says, “Promise,” it doesn’t feel empty, the way it did with everyone else.
It feels like what it is—a promise.
— —
“Let me guess—Vieux Carré, hold the lemon.”
It takes everything within Wanda not to jump out of her skin the moment you—of all people, you—slide into the seat across from her at a pristine table for two. Then, you’re starting a conversational dialogue as though it’s the most ordinary thing on Earth.
Good Lord. Are you trying to kill her? “What?”
You grin, slinging the sodden rag over one shoulder and fixing Wanda with a playfully contemplative look. “Your drink of choice. Vieux Carré—”
“Hold the lemon,” Wanda finishes, the corner of her lips twitching—threatening a smirk.
You nod and dip your chin—by all accounts, seeming quite shy all of a sudden. “Did I get it right?” you ask, wide-eyed and hopeful—desperately searching Wanda’s bemused features for a hint of approval. Her approval.
Gods, she thinks to herself, telltale warmth pooling low in her belly at the sight of you. You’re perfect.
“I’m not much of a drinker, I’m afraid,” she admits, eyeing you intently.
The visible disappointment that flits across your features—though regretful—is damn near as delectable as your naïveté. “Shoot,” you pout, brow furrowed.
A beat passes in silence.
Wait. Silence? That can’t be…
Alarmed, Wanda does a quick visual sweep, logging her surroundings. Head on a swivel. Natalia taught her that.
Chairs flipped up on tables; an empty bar. The neon signs decorating each wall—dark. Lights out; newly-swept floors spotless and bare. Not a soul in sight.
Well, besides the pair of you.
“It’s after 2:00. We closed about a half hour ago,” you offer by way of explanation. There’s an almost… sympathetic look gracing your tawny features; a genuine urge to soothe Wanda’s evident disorientation, strange and unfamiliar though she might be.
“I suppose that… I lost track of the time,” Wanda murmurs more to herself than to you, pinpricks of unease crawling beneath her skin. She can already hear Natalia’s voice in her head—scolding her for losing focus.
You nod, as if this explanation pleases you. “It happens.”
“Not to me,” Wanda refutes before she can think better of it, words imbued with bitterness and longing and grief beyond measure. “Not after…” she trails off, blinking rapidly.
You frown, leaning forth with clasped hands. “After…?” Your voice is gentle—so very gentle; your intonation—probing, yet kind. And that look in your eyes—tender, open… warm. Like she could tell you anything, everything, if she wanted to.
Heaven help her, but Wanda wants to.
It’s only the firm, intent rhythm of boots on wood which stops her from committing any further blunders. Confident footsteps mark the newcomer’s approach, and with them, a rich, intoxicating presence; one ripe with poise and sovereignty.
Saved by the bell.
“I thought I’d find you here,” comes a lofty, languorous intonation. Low, husky; cool and collected as can be.
Natalia.
Her hair is a dark, coffee-stained brown; her eyes a startling shade of hazel. Her brows are penciled in to appear fuller, darker; and, as she draws near, there’s a rather overstated sensuality to her stride—a densely-layered suggestiveness that’s as fantastical as it is distracting.
Yes, Natalia has always been a master of deception. Shedding skins and personas like outerwear; changing seamlessly with the winds of every season. And yet, throughout it all, one thing remains; one thing is constant. She’s in charge, always thinking a step—or ten—ahead. As for the rest of them… well. They’re all just window dressing; side-pieces; extras in her production.
And Wanda surrenders unto it, as she always does. Revels in its close proximity, soaking it up like golden sunlight on a warm summer’s day.
You, for your part, are not left similarly unruffled.
“We’re closed,” you assert, rising unsteadily to your feet with an alarmed expression. “How…” you falter, gaze darting this way and that. “How did you get in?”
If Natalia hears you (and Wanda knows that she does), she does not let on. Rather, she comes to stand directly between the pair of you, peering down at Wanda with a decidedly displeased frown. “I expected you back hours ago.”
Wanda dips her chin in a show of deference, cheeks hot with embarrassment. “I know. I was—”
“Distracted?” Natalia interjects tonelessly. “Yes, I can see that.” Wanda hears her heave a quiet sigh. “You’re forcing my hand here, звезда моя.”
You’re well and truly confused, now; looking from Natalia to Wanda and back again, trying desperately to put the puzzle pieces together. Wanda can practically see the gears turning in your pretty little head. “You guys… know each other?”
Poor thing.
Wanda dares to raise her head, looking up to Natalia with pleading eyes. “I’m sorry,” she professes, her voice small and quiet. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Another sigh, though even before she speaks, Wanda can tell she’s won. (This round, at least.) “Fine,” Natalia huffs, turning to appraise you with a harried look. “It’s high time you took a leave of absence, my dear. You work far too much, anyhow.”
— —
You awaken slowly. Your head spins. And your limbs… tingling, yet numb. So very, very numb. It’s like you’re floating and sinking all at once—suspended in viscous amber, lead weighing heavy in your bones… pressure squeezing your lungs in a steel vice.
And, just as quickly as it’s come, it’s gone.
Awareness sparks a lit match in your chest; it burns a fiery trail up your throat as you hack and cough, hot bursts of air leaving you in a blistering rush. You roll over on a whim, wheezing up what meager remains of your burning lungs onto… a bed. Nicely made. Starch-white sheets, all tucked in around the edges.
And the scent—pleasant, mild, clean. Like a hotel.
Bleary-eyed and disoriented, you prop yourself up onto your forearms and peer around.
Polished cement flooring, shadow-grey walls... a flat-screen TV mounted up on the opposite wall. You’re still in your work uniform—slim-fit tee with a generous V-neck (black), jeans (also black), and a pair of ratty hi-top Converse (blue). Your head pounds.
What happened?
For better or worse, you aren’t permitted the time to think about it for too long. At precisely that moment, all the hairs on your body seem to stand on end, and the realization hits (rather belatedly, granted) that you are not alone.
A pretty, red-haired woman stands in the doorway, regarding you intently with an otherwise blank expression. Delicate, diamond-cut jawline; full, rouge-red lips. Average height, with a slender yet shapely build. Unreasonably attractive.
You think you might recognize her.
Hesitantly (and with a not insignificant amount of effort), you wriggle over onto your back, feeling her eyes upon you all the while.
“H-Hi,” you manage awkwardly. Your cheeks feel hot.
Her full, pinkish lips curve up to form a spine-chilling smirk that dimples both pale cheeks. “Hello,” she answers back in kind, forest-green eyes alight with mischief.
“Where am I?”
She shrugs. “Does it matter?”
You blink, taken aback. “... Yes?”
She sucks in her lips, as if trying not to laugh. “Is that a question?”
You fall silent, then, feeling rather foolish and small all of a sudden.
She says nothing, though the amusement remains upon her pretty angular features, causing your skin to heat and itch with mounting discomfort.
“You look familiar,” you say after a moment. You’ve never been one for awkward silences. “Do I know you?”
She shrugs once more. “Do you?”
You don’t roll your eyes, but it’s a close thing. Instead, you shove yourself up into a sitting position and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Even that meager motion alone is enough to make your head pound and spin and shriek like a banshee on speed, but you’re loath to quit now. “I’m leaving now,” you announce shakily, making to push yourself to your feet—
Only to be intercepted by a deceptively slender body slamming into yours head-on, shoving all the air from your lungs in one fell swoop and jackknifing your upper body violently backward. Instinct allows you to get your elbows behind you in time to stop yourself from tumbling onto your back as she clambers into your lap with all the efficacy and grace of someone who’d done this a thousand times before; steel-wrought thighs clamped around your hips in a bruising grip, an open-faced palm pressed against your sternum.
“I don’t think so, зайка,” she purrs, bearing down on you much like a predator would its prey. And fuck it all, but she’s so much prettier up close. Not only that, but she smells incredible; like honey and pine needles and something indefinable, something entirely her own. “Why don’t you relax, hm? Stay a while.”
You get the feeling she isn’t really asking so much as she is telling.
You gulp, trying your very best to re-gather yourself: your composure, your confusion, your ire. “Who are you?” you try again, suppressing a shudder. “What do you want ?” You give your hips an experimental wiggle—endeavoring to loosen her grip, even if only slightly.
Nothing. If anything, she grips you that much tighter, digs her palm into your chest that much harder until there’s absolutely no question about the impressive bruising you’ll sport come morning.
You bite your lip to hold back a whine, and don’t flinch when you taste blood. Jesus.
“Natasha,” she returns airily. She tacks on something else in a decidedly Slavic-sounding dialect (Russian, perhaps?), followed by… your name.
Your heart skips a beat, your chest beginning to ache beneath her palm. “How do you know my name?” you question dumbfoundedly, ears ringing.
She—Natasha—just chuckles, low and amused. “Oh, зайка,” she muses, cupping your cheek in the palm of her free hand. “I know everything about you.”
You frown, heart thudding double-time against your ribcage. You’re not sure what compels you to test her knowledge, particularly in your current predicament, but, nevertheless—
“When was I born?” you inquire—demand, really. You’ve always been a bit too bold for your own good.
Luckily, though, rather than enraging her, Natasha actually appears… tickled by your impudence. Charmed, even. She rattles off your birthday, complete with the year and time of day—to the minute—without blinking.
“Where was I born?”
She rattles that one off, too, complete with the city, hospital, and cross-streets.
“Where’d I go to school as a child?”
Same deal. Lists the full name of the school, its exact locale (cross-streets and all); even includes the name of your favorite teacher, just to rub it in.
Fuck. You swallow thickly, dread churning low in your gut. “What do you want?” Your voice trembles this time, though you haven’t the presence of mind to be embarrassed about it.
All you can feel is thinly-veiled panic as the reality of your situation hits like a sucker punch to the gut, leaving you lightheaded and dizzy with fear.
“I want a lot of things.”
Again, you don’t roll your eyes, though it’s not for lack of wanting. “None of which includes answering my questions, I see.”
She smiles, all teeth. “Careful, bunny,” she cautions, leaning further in until your faces are centimeters apart and her hair tickles your collarbones. It takes all your willpower to keep from flinching away at her close proximity. “My patience is not limitless,” she informs you, warm breath ghosting across your lips, “and you are testing it.”
Your cheeks burn as you manage a shallow nod, feeling by all accounts properly chastised. “Sorry,” you mumble, however begrudgingly.
“Your obstinacy is endearing, but unacceptable,” Natasha continues, shoving herself back off of you with the palm of her hand—ouch— and dismounting gracefully from your lap in one fluid motion. Your breastbone aches, and your hips aren’t much better—left smarting from the phantom weight of her touch. You don’t dare move an inch. “We’ll work on that.”
You exhale sharply, head still pounding, blood pooling along your lower lip. “I don’t understand,” you tell her, your eyes burning with unshed tears.
“Aw,” she coos, lips pushed out to form a sympathetic (read: condescending) pout. “Poor thing.” As she speaks, another figure enters your tear-blurred vision and—
Wait a minute. Another one?
Your teary-eyed gaze darts over to the new arrival, frantically taking her in. White. Pretty. Long, strawberry-blonde hair, blue-green eyes, and delicate pink lips.
You didn’t even hear her come in.
“Natalia, you’re scaring her,” the strawberry-blonde admonishes, coming to sit directly beside you on the edge of the bed. Her voice is smooth and light, tempered with the faintest hint of Slavic influence. Not only that, but there’s something almost… familiar about her as she urges you to sit upright, begins tucking stray locks of non-existent hair behind your ear with all the tenderness and familiarity of a long-time lover. Have you met her before? “Oh, it’s okay, миличка, don’t cry.”
You shake your head despondently, face hot with embarrassment. You feel like a little kid. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” you whisper hoarsely, willing yourself not to cry.
“Shh, shh, I know, baby,” she soothes, leaning in to place a feather-light kiss upon your temple. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” She nuzzles along your brow with the tip of her nose, leaving kisses upon every inch of skin.
You don’t fight it when she mouths her way down your jaw, tilting your face towards her with an insistent touch beneath your chin.
You—teary-eyed, frustrated, critically overwhelmed—can’t move, can hardly breathe. You’re stock-still, locked in place; looking despondently into her blue-green eyes like you’re drowning, and she might just be the one to save you.
It’s something like a dream when she presses her lips to yours in a feather-light kiss that all too quickly turns open-mouthed and heated; her tongue sliding against yours, teeth nipping at your split lower lip until you whimper.
You don’t mean to. Really, you don’t. It just… it happens so fast.
Your head spins, your lungs burn from lack of oxygen, and God help you, but her kiss is nothing short of intoxicating—warm and solid and there, anchoring you in a moment that feels altogether surreal.
It takes all your grit—and then some—to tear yourself away, but you manage it all the same.
“Shit,” you gasp, chest heaving, head spinning. You damn near tumble off the edge of the bed.
If the woman is at all put off by your sudden retreat, she does not let on. Instead, she merely smirks and licks a smear of blood—your blood—from her upper lip with slow, deliberate movements, as though savoring your taste.
“Delicious,” she murmurs more to herself than anyone else, eyes hooded with lust.
“I-I know you,” you choke out between heaving gasps. And, the moment you’ve said it, you know it to be true. You do recognize her!
She’s something of a regular at the bar, though certainly not in the conventional sense. She’s never ordered anything; not a drink (non-alcoholic or otherwise), nor food. She was just… there. Sitting alone at a table for two, blending seamlessly into the backdrop of every vibrant night.
You aren’t sure when you first noticed her. A few months ago? Maybe longer?
“Wanda,” she offers up, presumably by way of introduction.
“You… You were at the bar,” you say slowly, still quite out of breath. “A lot.”
“Someone had to make sure you did not get into any trouble,” she—Wanda—reasons with a noncommittal shrug.
“You were there every night… because of me ?”
“Of course, миличка,” Wanda enthuses, stroking her thumb in gentle circles beneath your cheekbone. “You’re ours. Where else would I be?”
Ice slithers down your spine. “W-What?” you question, gaze darting briefly over to Natasha, who silently watches the pair of you with interest, before returning back to Wanda. “What does that mean?”
“You’re confused,” she soothes, and perhaps you’re imagining it, but you think you glimpse a flicker of carmine-red arcing through her pupils—here one moment, gone the next.
And in that instant…
Woah.
It’s as if a switch has been flipped.
Time seems to slow. A strange sensation pulses behind your right eye… probing; curious. Inattention glazes over your vision; lead settles heavy in your bones. And that nagging, inquisitive probe… remains.
Oh, does it remain. Creeping its way into your thoughts, coiling its way around the base of your spine… polluting your very bloodstream with red, red, red.
“W-What’s happening?” you hear yourself ask from beneath a sea of molten amber. The words sound tinny to your ears.
“Shh-shh-shh,” the other one—Natalie, Natalia, Natasha—coos from… behind you. When did she get there? Slender arms curl around your ribs, tugging you back into her body, and you… you are like dregs on the ocean’s tide; small, lost, helpless. Where it flows, so, too, do you. “No more talking, зайка,” she murmurs, words wrought with a mirth you don’t understand. “I think you’ve done quite enough of that.”
The distant thought registers that perhaps you should take issue with that… stiffen up, flinch away, make a snappy retort. Something.
But, just as quickly as it’s come, it’s gone, leaving nothing—not even the faintest echo—in its wake.
She’s still pulling you along as she reclines back against the headboard, trading her firm grip on your sides for a looser one around your neck and shoulders. And you… you go willingly. You let her arms pull you back into her chest, tucking your head beneath her chin. You think you might even feel her place a kiss atop your head. Her touch is firm, yet gentle as she holds you against her, and she is so very, very warm…
Wanda joins, too, a half a second later—straddling one of your legs and crawling her way up the length of your body, planting feather-light kisses everywhere she can reach along the way.
“It is better like this, hm?” she hums. “Just the three of us. No arguing, no resistance… No fighting.” Once again, you’re struck by the distinct—and fleeting—impression that you should take offense to that. “How it’s meant to be.”
When she finally comes to rest, it’s with an arm slung around your waist and one of her long, shapely legs tangled with yours. She noses at Natasha’s forearms folded beneath your chin like a brown-nosed puppy, and doesn’t relent until she readjusts her grip with a peevish huff. The moment there’s room, Wanda’s head finds its place against your chest and she lets out a satisfied hum, every warm puff of breath ghosting just so across your sternum. You’re sure she can feel every slow, languorous beat of your heart from there. All at once, it occurs to you to be grateful for your hazy, befuddled state; heaven knows your heart would be thundering out your chest otherwise.
“We care for you, миличка,” Wanda murmurs into your chest, punctuating her statement with a gentle kiss beneath your clavicle. “You don’t understand yet, and that is alright.”
“But you will,” Natasha adds, planting tender kisses along your neck and chuckling whenever a particularly sensitive spot makes you shudder. “No matter how long it takes.”
“This is our promise to you,” Wanda whispers, and though her words sound practiced, in a sense—as though she’s said them many times, and is concentrating quite intently on getting them right—they sound genuine, too. Like she really, really means them.
Moments before you fall asleep, a thought registers—the first rational, clear thought you’ve had since you first saw twin flickers of red flare in Wanda’s pupils: Fuck. What have I gotten myself into?
— —
звезда моя | zvezda moya | my star [russian]
зайка | zaika | bunny (term of endearment) [russian]
миличка | milichka | honey [bulgarian]
end notes: again, this has been sitting in the drafts/docs for a minute, and would love to know what you think! in the meantime, i’m still on that grind for all the shit i need to do that hasn’t yet been completed yet..... heh heh. will probably toss this up on ao3 (but also maybe not?) soon enough. we’ll see </3
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#dark!wanda maximoff x dark!natasha romanoff x f!reader#dark!wanda maximoff x f!reader#dark!natasha romanoff x f!reader#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#dark!wanda maximoff x dark!natasha romanoff x reader#stuff i wrote#f!reader
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Need (18+)
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader x Wanda Maximoff
Warnings: g!p Natasha Romanoff, g!p Wanda Maximoff, implied influence of sex pollen, PWP, threesome, unprotected sex, blow job
Summary: absolutely zero plot, straight up PWP
Masterlist
You finally let yourself relax for the first time in the past two days, closing your eyes and throwing yourself on the couch.
You hate stealth missions. You are more of an explosion type of girl, coming in with a bang, kicking some ass and leaving as soon as possible, but this - staying hidden, moving in shadows, and sneaking behind people's backs - this is more of a Natasha thing, which is why she is the one in charge.
You sigh, turning your head to look at the redhead. She is bent over some documents, her brows furrowed in deep thought. Wanda appears by her side a moment later, drops of sweat rolling down her temples.
You sit up, and focus on the women in front of you. Hours ago something went wrong when you split up, they came back looking as guilty as ever, reassuring you that everything was alright, and you believed them then. Now you're not so sure.
"Is everything okay?" You ask, pinning them down with your eyes.
Wanda jumps in surprise and moves to stand behind the table, slightly bending over. Your eyes narrow at the sight.
"Everything is alright. You should go to the store, we don't have anything to eat," Natasha says through gritted teeth, not meeting your eyes.
Your mouth opens in shock, eyes straying to Wanda's in search of support, but you find her in a similar state - eyes dark and jaw clenched tight.
"You two go to the store. Maybe some fresh air will help you get your shit together." You huff, choosing to walk away from the women and hole up in your room, but when you pass by Wanda, your hand accidentally grazing hers, she lets out an actual growl, the wood of the table squeaking in her hold. Her eyes burn bright red, her mouth open as she pants heavily.
"What's wrong?" You hurry to her side, cupping her jaw to inspect her face, and her hips thrust forward, her eyes closing as she whines.
"You need to go." Natasha's low voice reaches your ears, making you look at the redhead. "Leave, before it's too late."
You blink and take a step back, concern swirling in your chest. "What is going on? Let me help."
Wanda takes a deep breath, her hands trembling as she reaches for your hand.
"Wanda," Natasha warns, her tone steel-like, but Wanda pays her no mind, her fingers hot on your arm as she pulls you flush against her front, burrowing her nose in the back of your neck and grinding her hips against your backside, her rock hard cock straining in the confines of her pants.
You gasp, unconsciously arching your back to meet her messy humps, her hands curling around your waist, her mouth hot on your neck. "W-wanda."
Natasha walks around the table and you finally see her fully, see the bulge in her pants, see the veins in her tense forearms. "Leave," she croaks, "before we completely lose control."
You let an involuntary whimper, the sound making Natasha pounce on you with animalistic need. Her lips are on yours, enveloping you in their warmth, her hands are rough on your hips, squeezing and tugging you away from the other woman, but Wanda doesn't budge, growling against your neck and holding on to your waist.
Natasha stumbles back, breathless, and closes her eyes tightly, her fists clenched tight. "This is your last chance. If you don't leave now, we'll take it as your permission to do whatever we want to you."
Wanda hums against the slope of your neck, nipping and sucking on the tender skin, her hot tongue soothing the sting. You gulp, head falling back against her shoulder.
"Use me," you whisper, "do whatever you want."
Natasha's eyes flash, and then she's pushing you down to your knees. Your mouth falls open as her pants and underwear slide down her legs. Her fat cock stands proudly against her stomach, precum leaking down the tip. You barely have enough time to wet your lips before she pushes it down your throat, holding your face between her hands and fucking your mouth like her life depends on it. She throws her head back, strands of her fiery red hair framing her face as she loses herself in her desire.
Wanda mewls beside you, and you glance at her, eyes widening when you see her straining cock in her fist. She pumps it fast, her eyes on you, and you reach out, your fingers wrapping around the length. She closes her eyes, her hands settle on your shoulders as you slowly jerk her off, your throat burning from Natasha's cock. She pulls away to let you take a breath, but you don't have enough time for that - Wanda immediately takes her place, shoving herself into your mouth, her balls slapping against your chin.
You blink back tears, trying to relax your throat, but still gagging on her length.
"M'sorry, detka," she murmurs, "you'll have to take it all."
Natasha taps her tip on your cheek, her fingers tangling in your hair. You pull away, finally allowed to breathe properly, and clench your thighs at the sight of their cocks in front of your face, your wetness staining your sleep shorts as you subtly grind on your heel.
Natasha growls, and then you're pulled off the floor and thrown over the spy's shoulder. She carries you to her bedroom with ease, and throws you on the bed. Wanda hurriedly tugs off your clothes, almost ripping your underwear in haste to get you naked. Natasha is on you the second you're laid bare, ready to claim your most vulnerable part. You spread your legs, bending them at your knees, your thighs wet with your arousal. Natasha tugs you closer, and forces you on your hands and knees.
"Better," she husks, the tip of her cock pushing between your folds and into your tight heat, your walls clenching tightly around her shaft. She moans, thrusting balls deep, "Such a good pussy, taking me like a good slut."
You cry out, mouth falling wide open, and see Wanda settle in front of you, her cock still wet with your spit. She takes hold of your jaw and pushes your head down, simultaneously thrusting her cock deep inside your throat. "Fuck, Nat, we should've done this sooner."
They fuck you like you're a common whore, using your holes to their liking, Wanda's balls slapping against your chin, Natasha's palms placed possessively on your ass. You gag on the witch's shaft, tears streaming down your face, but she's too far gone in her pleasure to notice, hips snapping faster with each thrust. Natasha's length spreads your cunt almost painfully, the tip of her thick cock pushing against your cervix with each rough thrust.
Your moans send vibrations through Wanda's length, making the young witch cry out, her abs taut with tension, fingers pulling at your hair harshly. She comes down your throat with a loud moan, making you gag on her cum. You pull away, struggling to swallow the load that leaks all over your face and chest.
Natasha's thrusts become erratic as she gets closer to her own release, her fat cock sloshing in your wetness.
"Tasha- ah, please," you gasp, and she flips you on your back, changing the angle.
"Louder, baby," she pants, snapping her hips faster, her fingers leaving bruises on your hips. "I want everyone to know what a cock slut you are." Her dirty words make your head spin, your walls clenching around her thickness, trying to swallow her in.
Wanda throws one led over your stomach, now hovering over you, and pushes your breasts together before thrusting her cock between them. You eagerly open your mouth, welcoming the reddened tip. She whines and mewls as she plays with your breasts, her thumbs stroking your nipples, ready to come again just from the sight below her.
Your legs are spread wider before they're thrown over Nat's shoulders. She presses her palm against the bulge in your belly, making you scream, "Yes! Ah- Nat… Yes, yes, yes- deeper, I need you deeper."
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she thrusts one last time, releasing a load of cum into your clenching heat. The pressure inside you releases as you're hit by the most powerful orgasm you've ever had. A few seconds later Wanda follows, forcing your jaw open and thrusting the tip of her cock inside. This time you swallow it all.
She falls on the bed beside you, her body glistening with sweat as you both catch your breath. Natasha slowly pulls out, gently massaging your thighs before taking place on your other side.
"We're not done," she whispers against your ear, her palm cupping your pussy. "We're not done until we've used every single one of your holes. And after that we'll go back to the compound, and we'll do it again and again and again."
Wanda nods, grinning wolfishly, and settles over you, her cock on your lower stomach, ready to fulfill Natasha's promise.
You gulp and spread your legs wider, ready to give them everything.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff smut#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff smut#wandanat x reader#wandanat smut#natasha romanoff x you#wanda maximoff x you#black widow x reader#scarlet witch x reader
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someone's there
Bucky x F!Reader
Summary: When you walk home from the office, someone seems to be following you home. Your best friend is not happy about that.
Word Count: 2.5K
Warnings: Stalking/Stalker-Ex BF, Domestic Abuse, Anxiety, Angry!Bucky, Protective!Bucky, Panic Attack
Repost
You stepped out of the office, pulling your coat tighter around you against the night. It was mid-November and New York was getting colder and colder every day that passed by. You were excited about Christmas - it was one of your favourite times of the year. The lights that went up from apartment to apartment, the tree and ice rink in Rockefeller center that you and your boyfriend - Nathan - visited every year, you and Nathan driving up to Boston to meet your family. Well, your ex-boyfriend.
You'd broken up a month ago. He'd been laid off about a year ago and taken up drinking to fill the time. Nathan was not a very nice drunk. He'd yell and throw things when he was angry, which was most of the time when he was drunk, and then beg you to come back, saying that he needed you and that he'd clean up his act as soon as he got a job. You had a well-paying job - secretary to the Avengers - but Nathan was always the higher earner of the two of you. You could hardly sustain his lifestyle on your job, but you stayed. Why? You had no idea.
Nathan was a smart guy, he got picked up by some major firm headquartered in Manhattan just over a month after he got laid off. He was back to his old routine of leaving the house at 6 and coming back by 8 - you hardly saw him anymore.
And much to your dismay, the drinking didn't stop. Sure, he slowed down. He couldn't risk ruining his reputation at his new workplace. So he limited the drinking to after work. But he never stopped.
The throwing vases became throwing punches, the yelling became constant threats, consoling words became consoling sex.
You did well to hide the new bruises from your colleagues, although your act was not good enough to fool everybody. You'd let your guard down in the toilet, rolling your sleeves up to wash your hands, just as Natasha Romanoff. Yes, Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow aka the world's best assassin.
She didn't mention it there, but you were called to a meeting with her soon after. She sat you down with a glass of water and asked you a simple question: "Are you safe?"
Your wide eyes and trembling figure gave you away.
Nat implored you to break up with him or to at least come and live at the compound for a while - just until you figured out what you wanted to do.
You turned her offer down, stating that you were fine. You'd be fine. She fixed you with a stern glance, but even Natasha Romanoff couldn't force you to do something you didn't want.
Bucky, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He'd noticed the bruises long before Nat had, and gone out of his way to try and make your life easier. He sent you less paperwork to file, fewer menial tasks to do, and even put in a request for you to be moved to the New York office. In his eyes that meant you'd be further away from Nathan.
The next week, you both moved to Manhattan.
The bruises started to get darker, and more visible around your body. You dropped the short-sleeved dresses and low necklines in favour of long-sleeved turtlenecks with trousers.
Bucky worried for you. The dark rings around your eyes, the ghostly pallor of your skin. He was determined to save you. The only issue was he had no idea where you lived. New York was a big enough place that he'd never run into you. He knew you didn't live in Brooklyn, but that was about it.
The night where it all came to a head was after a Stark Gala. There was a group photo, where Bucky's arm rested on your hip while your arm rested on his. Nathan was pissed. He'd been sitting on the sofa when you came home, the photo open on his phone and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in his hand. He pushed you into a wall and slapped you, his rings cutting into your face. He yelled every manner of words in your direction, calling you a 'slut' and a 'whore', and telling you that you were worthless. You cried, fresh bruises forming on your neck where he gripped you and blood dripping down your face.
You took his berating for the next few hours until Nathan retreated onto the sofa, sitting down and muttering under his breath. You opened your mouth, trying to defend yourself. Wrong move. Nathan stood up, even more agitated than before. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was almost finished and brought it down on your head.
The next thing you remember was waking up to 4 white walls. You were in a hospital, your hand being gripped tightly by someone. You tried to escape from the vice-like grip when a thumb ran over your knuckles. You knew those hands.
"Bucky." You whispered, your eyes still adjusting to the light. Your voice was sore from disuse, but the way that Bucky's eyes lit up, you would have thought that you were singing a love song just to him.
The calmness in your heart faded as soon as your brain caught up with you. You tried to convince Bucky that he needed to go but he shushed you gently.
"Shh. Don't stress yourself out. You're safe. I promise." The red rings around his eyes gave him away. Bucky had been crying. Over you.
You held his hand tightly that day. And the day after. And even the day after that. You weren't sure if you would ever find the strength to let go.
By the time you were out of the hospital, you'd moved back to Upstate New York - Bucky had made sure that you would never have to set foot in the city again if you didn't want to.
You returned back to work as normal - the restraining order you had filed against Nathan made your mind rest easier. The whole team was happy to have you back and smiling again, but they made sure to check in with you a hell of a lot more than they used to. Clint would swing by with an apple, and accidentally leave it at your desk - the first time, you'd felt bad and tried to return it, but you quickly caught on to his tactics. Nat would bring up game nights and movie nights, begging you to come, even if it was just you both.
But most of all, Bucky. Every day, you'd wake up to a text from him, wishing you a wonderful morning and spewing some inspirational affirmations for the start of the day. He'd bring you coffee, made just how you like it, as soon as he was back from his morning run. He'd spent a while perfecting the drink - making sure it was exactly to your standard. He'd walk you to your apartment for your biweekly 2pm therapy sessions (that he'd set you up with after he had realised how much difficulty you were having sleeping), and then off to lunch at some random hole-in-the-wall spot that he knew you would love. He'd call you as you got home, making sure you got home safe, and then a goodnight text to fall asleep to.
To others, his persistent need to be around you would be stifling. But after 4 years of having your needs be put lower than the damn cockroaches in the walls, it was nice to feel wanted.
You set your life up - personal bank accounts, new social media - anything to separate that part of your life from your new one. You got a new phone (courtesy of Tony, who insisted on buying you the latest iPhone, no matter how hard you tried to convince him that he didn't need to do that because 'where on earth would you find the money to pay him back?' He scoffed at that, "I'm a billionaire hun, I think I can afford to buy my secretary a new phone). You went to get your haircut, the shorter length was something you knew Nathan would have hated.
You'd walked into the compound the day after you got it cut, worried that no one would like it as much as you did.
As soon as you made it to the kitchen, you heard a loud wolf whistle. Nat was sitting on the sofa with Sam, and they both cheered loudly as you posed for them.
Bucky's jaw dropped as he walked into the kitchen. You were still showing off for Nat and Sam - you hadn't seen him walk in.
He walked over, reaching behind you to get a pod for the coffee machine, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Looking good, Doll." His hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine.
You smiled up at him, before grabbing an apple and heading back toward your desk. You glanced back at Bucky and your eyes drifted downwards to a very large and very prominent issue. You stifled a giggle before getting back to work.
You'd continued to tease Bucky for a while, inconspicuous brushes and a few comments here and there. Enough to make him flustered, but not enough to make him suspicious.
He continued being the perfect gentleman. Helping you when you needed him to, being there when no one else was.
You started your normal journey back home, getting out of the compound was sometimes a tedious affair because of the thousands of security gates between the compound and the outermost gate. Given that this is where the Avengers live and train, it's justified. Still tedious though.
It was a quarter mile from the compound to the bus stop that took you home - you didn't like driving, especially in the frost and the dark. You put your headphones in, picking back up on the podcast you started this morning. It was an interesting one - some new True Crime podcast that your best friend had recommended to you.
The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you walked through a dark and lonely street. You gripped your bag tighter around you and sped up. There was someone following you.
You glanced behind you, your eyes catching sight of brown hair and a blue t-shirt. It had Palm Springs emblazoned on it. Funny. You'd bought Nathan a similar t-shirt a few years ago.
You fished your phone out of your pocket, quickly dialing the one person you felt safest with.
"Doll?" Bucky picked after the first ring.
"Bucky, cred că cineva mă urmărește." You said, your voice loud enough that the other person could hear you were on the phone.
"Tell me where you are, Doll, I'll come and get you." You could hear Bucky pulling on a jacket and grabbing his keys.
"Umm, cred că sunt aproape de Joey's."
"The pizza place?"
"Da, îl văd de unde sunt." The footsteps behind you seem to be getting louder, but you forced yourself to remain calm, "Am să te aștept acolo. Vă rog să veniți repede."
You ducked into the pizza place, walking straight up to the counter. By now, you were sure of who it was - but Nathan didn't follow you into the pizza place. Maybe you were just overreacting. Joey's was mostly empty, with a few teenagers here and there - probably camping out after some house party that got shut down.
"Same as always, kiddo?" Joey asked, and you nodded with a slight grin. You and Bucky came to Joey's Pizza Place a lot - Bucky used to say that it felt like home. You were inclined to agree.
"No metal man with you today?" Joey enjoyed teasing Bucky. His dad, also named Joey, had fought alongside Bucky in the war. Joey had grown up on stories of the greatness of the Howling Commandoes and it had been one of his greatest pleasures to serve him pizza every time they came.
"He's coming - got caught up in traffic."
"Busy men, huh?" You giggled at that.
The door opened again. You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with someone you hoped you'd never see again. Nathan's sister.
"Thought I'd find you here, bitch."
June stalked over to you, her face filled with rage. She had been good friends with you before Nathan and your relationship started going wrong, but when you had confided your pains with her, she'd turned her back on you. Blood is thicker than water. She'd called you names before - filling your comments with every vile comment she could think of, texting and emailing you death threats, anything to remind you of just how broken and damaged you were.
Before you knew what was happening, her hand collided with your cheek. The whole place burst into action.
Joey jumped around the side of the counter as June hurled insults at your face.
You tried to push her away as she swung at you again, but her hand hit your shoulder.
Joey pushed you behind him, as one of the kitchen hands stepped out to pull June back.
A teenager was on the phone with the police.
You tried to cover your ears as the noise built in your head.
The door swung open, letting in a draft.
Boots on the linoleum floor. Familiar boots.
Sirens.
"We were in the neighbourhood, Sergeant." Something about a noise complaint.
A hand pulling you into a firm chest. Tears streaming down your face. Your favourite voice whispering sweet nothings, stroking your hair, begging you to calm down.
"You're doing so good for me, Doll, just keep breathing." Bucky's pulse was steady under your hand. Slowly, your breathing evened out and you lifted your head to meet Bucky's eyes. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you to stop you from collapsing.
You stayed in Bucky's embrace while the police wrapped up - June was being taken to the local PD for the altercation and also driving under the influence. Bucky told you that Nathan had also been arrested for violating the restraining order. Your heart sunk.
"I'll never escape him, will I?" You whispered to Bucky, as you sat down in your favourite booth to eat.
"You can, and you will," Bucky reassured you, squeezing your hand in his.
You ate your pizza in relative silence after that - most of the shop had cleared out with the police. Joey gave you your pizza for free, along with a tight hug on the side. He told you that you'd always be safe in here, "although metal man seems to have that covered." Bucky glared at the nickname, making you both laugh.
You walked hand-in-hand to Bucky's motorbike - his fingers ghosted over the bruise on your cheekbone from the slap as he fastened your helmet on your head.
"It's nothing, Buck. I've had worse." Bucky gave you a pointed look, "Too soon?"
He threw his leg over the bike and you settled behind him, resting your cheek on his spine. "Forever is too soon for my liking."
You smiled at that and nuzzled further into his back.
"Where to madam?" He said, putting on an exaggerated British accent. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.
"Take me home, Buck."
fin.
buy me a coffee
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky fanfic#buckybarnes#bucky#bucky imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers#bucky barns x reader#bucky barns imagine#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes comfort#bucky barnes#no y/n#bucky angst#bucky x y/n#tw panic attack#tw ab*se
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Asleep In Your Arms
WARNINGS: Natasha Romanoff has a dick, fluff, sleepy smut, slight groping, stomach bulges, breeding kink, soft sex, established relationship/marriage, they have a son
WORDS: 1.08k
PAIRING: beefy!Natasha x f!reader
A/N: omg i haven't posted a fic in sooooo long 😭
An infant's giggle awakens Natasha, your wife, from her deep slumber. She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles as she sat up on the bed, watching you in awe as you play with the baby in your lap beside her. “aww my little baby boy, oh, you're so cute! Yes, you are!” you baby-talked the little boy as he laughs, his stubby little hands grabbing at your face as you nuzzle your nose into his chubby cheek. “Detka..? God, what time is it?” you turn your attention to Natasha as you greet her with a soft, loving smile. “It's a little past 9 pm, darling.” she raised her brow at your words, “and you didn't think to wake me up?” you pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “You just looked so peaceful sleeping. Plus, you came back from a week long mission.”
“Babe, he's uh– Alex's biting your hair, krasivaya.” you look down to see the baby nibbling on your hair strands, your hands immediately untangling his gummy mouth from your hair. “What did mommy say about biting her hair?” you sternly asked Alex, as if he was able to understand you. “mm’o–” Natasha's eyes slightly widened at the baby's almost-spoken word, “Tasha did he just?” she frowned. “No, Alex, don't say mommy, say mama.” you nudged her side, “right, and who had to go through 9 months of pregnancy and 13 hours of labor. Because someone wanted a baby and got me knocked up.” she scoffed. “Excuse me, but you're the one who agreed—” she stopped herself, fully realizing that she had lost the argument.
“That's what I thought.” she huffed before snuggling up to your side once more, “we should make another one.” she mumbled against your waist. “...What?” she sighed as she held onto you tighter, “nothing.” you were about to respond when you felt the boy in your arms muscles relax and soft breathing heard from his direction. “Honey, is he asleep?” you whispered to the redhead, only to be answered with silence. You peeked down at her sleeping soundly, her arms wrapped around your torso. “Nat.. let go. I need to take Alex to his crib.” she muttered incoherent words as she turned to the side. You slowly got up from the bed and went to the nursery, setting down the infant with gentle hands.
Your heart ached with how cute your son looked sleeping, his chubby little face squished to the side of the soft mattress. You heard a quiet flick noise as the light of the hallway outside of the room turned on. “Natasha?” you called out and closed the nursery door behind you, peering out into the hallway. “My love, what are you doing out of bed..?” you pulled her back into the bedroom, “go back to sleep, Natty.” she looked down at you with groggy eyes. “Natasha..” you softly spoke, your hands moving to cup her face. She slid her hands down to your hips and pushed you flat on the bed. “Darling don't you think it's a bit late— oh!” she lifted up your legs and placed them on both sides of her waist.
Your eyes darted to the outline of her bulge prodding through her boxers, “you really want this, don't you, Tash?” she groaned as your smaller hand went to squeeze her clothed length. “Go on then, use me.” with your words something snapped in her, and she adamantly slipped your panties off and tossed them somewhere in the dark of the room. “’m gonna fuck you so good, baby..” she whispered, her voice raspy considering she just woke up. “Yeah? Prove it to me.” she peppered kisses trailing up your inner thigh, stopping at your wet cunt. She discarded her boxers, your gaze fixated on her girthy, long length springing free.
“Oh, fuck me.” you breathed out, she smirked as she aligned her bulbous tip with your entrance. “I'm planning on it, sweetheart.” you exhaled shakily as she inserted a few inches into your pussy. “Is– is it just me or did those missions make you more..” you admired her bite-able, muscular arms and shoulders with a lustful glint in your eyes. “More what?” you laughed silently, “oh.. nothing.” she slammed her entire cock inside your hole. “Oh God!” you moaned as she slid in and out of you at a painfully slow pace. “..Faster. Fuck me faster!” she sped up her thrusts with a harsh grip on your hips.
“Ah– mmngh you're so big..” you whined, already cock drunk over just a few movements. “You're so fuckin’ beautiful, Krasivaya.” her voice was strained, finding it unbearable to not release inside of you, your walls fluttering down on the sides of her dick didn't help either. “I- I can't t..” your words were breathless as you talked, you dug your nails deep inside Natasha's beefy shoulders as you felt her tip rubbing against your cervix. “Darling I'm.. I–” your skin felt as if it was set ablaze, heated and sweaty. “I need to– please let me cum!” you shouted as her relentless movements never stopped. You didn't want it to ever stop.
“Come on, make a mess all over my dick, baby.” she moaned loudly as she felt your walls clench around her girth. “Fuck! Nat– Nat.. Tasha- Natasha fuck!” You cried out in euphoria as you came crashing down all over her cock. “You did so good.. fuck. You're so pretty. My pretty girl.” she murmured hushed praises as she slammed back into your cunt. “mm..” you were too fucked out and tired to respond, just allowing your wife to have her way with you. “Oh, shit. I'm gonna cum.” she whined as she saw a visible bulge poking through your stomach, only driving her off the edge quicker. “Fucking hell..” her eyes screwed shut as she felt her reaching her peak.
“Gonna fill you up.. f-fuck– make you a mommy again. Hm?” you nodded feverishly, “y-yes! Cum inside me, Natty!” you softly moaned as she came deep inside you, keeping her position still without pulling out. “mmh..” she panted as her head rested on your chest, your hand lazily ran tender strokes through her red hair. “You tired big guy?” you felt a faint heartbeat and soft breathing against your chest. “What's with Romanoff's and sleeping..?” you yawned as her hold on your body grew tighter. “Goodnight, darling..” you pressed a light kiss on the top of her hair as you, too, fell asleep shortly after.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#natasha marvel#natasha romanoff x fem!reader#natasha romanov x reader
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hellloo🤗 i was wondering if u could do a 1850s natasha x f!reader based on ivy by taylor swift. kinda like where nat is a nurse or something and reader is a housewife. nat wants reader to herself. kinda like emily dickinson and sue gilbert from dickinson?
IVY
PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 1124
WARNINGS: death, nat kills someone but not in a dark way, talks of witch craft, cheating, think that’s really all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“Will he be okay, Nat?” She sighed, grabbing your hand and leading you to a more secluded area. You gulped nervously, your eyes falling around the building to spot if anyone else would have sighting of your shared encounter.
“You’re worrying me, what’s wrong with him?” She rubbed your arms soothingly, bringing you in for a quick, soft kiss before resting her forehead against yours.
“I’m sorry, love, I’m afraid the wound is too great to heal. It’s spread throughout his body and is infecting him. The doctors have tried removing it but there’s only a slim chance he can survive, and even then he would live a life of deep pain and suffering.” You bit your lip, removing yourself from her hold and turning, unable to let Nat see the tears that threatened to escape. You never loved him, that was known to her, but she understood your grievance.
“He was a good man, he didn’t deserve this.” That was a lie, and the bruises often marking your body only proved so. Nat would never tell you her lips turned upwards when hearing the news, but deep down you knew she was thrilled. This could be your one chance to escape with her through the woods to the small cabin she had spent her free time building for you. It was the one of your dreams, and your husband never cared to listen, stating he was too busy to build. But Nat wasn’t, she devoted the time she did not have to making everything and anything your heart desired, and she guessed watching her father working tirelessly building homes for others helped her learn a few steps.
“It may be best to say your goodbyes now before it is much too late.”
The following day you decided to visit your husband who awaited his time, he knew he didn’t have long, but he refused to admit it to himself. Flowers were held in your hand from your garden, despite the fact that he never cared to even notice them. Everything you worked hard for he lacked to notice, but you grew used to it.
But what you didn’t expect to walk in on was Nat silencing his screams, and her needle ripping the stitches the doctor performed on. Your eyes widened, and you dropped the petaled object in hand, the action catching her ear as she turned quickly, copying your position the moment she saw your figure.
“Y/N..”
“You’re- you’re killing him! How could you?” You rushed over to the man, and Nat worried your noises would alert the few other nurses or doctors. When you reached for him, you felt his heart slowing to a stop, and you assumed Nat had been putting him through this for longer than you had seen.
“He wished to die, Y/N. It hurt him too much to even breathe, and he begged me to take his life, so I did. I’m sorry.” Your tears began to fall onto his now warm skin, you did not want to feel it when he was cold and empty.
“I just- I can’t believe he’s actually gone.”
“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” She was taken aback when you wrapped your arms around her figure, desperately searching for comfort that you could only receive from her.
“Take me away from this, please, I can’t handle it.” That night she brought you to your home, allowing you to gather your belongings in secrecy. People hadn’t quite yet heard of the death of your husband, but your sudden departure would cause awful suspicion from the townsmen. So, you decided that this would be the last time your presence was spotted in this town, and you were to run off with the love of your life.
“Do you need any help with that?” Nat stood in the doorway of your bedroom, the one you used to share with your now-late partner.
“I’m almost done, I’m only gathering essentials.”
“Really? I took a few pieces of furniture as well, I’ve never been able to afford any of this.” You chuckled, stalking towards her and pressing a kiss to her sweet lips, the action bringing you a quick relief. When she was with you, holding you, kissing you, making love to you, everything seemed to fade away until it was only the two of you left.
“You’re the most important thing in my life, Y/N. I can not even imagine losing you.” You smiled, resting your head on her shoulder as she embraced you in a warm hug, causing you to melt in her hold.
“I have a surprise for you, darling.” Your face lit up, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight.
“Follow me when you are done packing, I have a place for the two of us to stay.”
Less than an hour later you were both scavenging through the woods, giggles leaving both of your lips as you ran, the leaves teasing your ankles as your hand was held by her.
“Okay, it’s right over here.” You both stopped, and she came up behind you with a smirk, her hands coming to cover your eyes as she led you forward. Even in the dark, she knew where to lead you, and you followed, trusting that she would never bring you into danger.
“And open!” You gasped when spotting the small building, and words seemed to fail to gather in your mind. It was beautiful, everything you had ever dreamed of, and everything you confined her in.
“It’s…beautiful. I can’t even believe it,”
“Well, believe it, because this is our new home.” She gripped the sides of your waist softly, pecking your cheek and lifting each item into her arms with ease, her strength always seemed to interest you.
“Here we can grow old together, just like we always wanted. I have a garden for you out back, so you can grow all the vegetables and flowers you wish. There’s a lake not far from here that I promise to bring you to any time I can, and there we can make love on the soft grass while the water sways in the wind. We can marry there, even if it may not be legally, I will still consider you my wife. I want to spend every waking moment with you here, and I will never wish to leave you, my love. So, Y/N, will you take my hand in marriage, and join me as my lover for all eternity? In sickness and in hell, I want you under all circumstances. And even in death, I will be with you, in every universe.”
And in every universe, you two found your way together, just like she promised.
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T H E D O G ' S F A L L - One shot.
Words count - 5,2k.
Tags & Warnings - mob boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, angst, harm/comfort, manipulation, mentions of blood/past abuses, human trafficking.
Summary - Anyone that can beat her in a fight will earn her, and Natasha intends to be the one, working hard to get what she thinks is hers. A dog can't fight for eternity, can it?
Moodboard here.
N/A - It's the longest os I've wrote so far, took me a lot of time but it's enventually here so I really hope you'll enjoy it! If it's the case, don't hesitate to let me know by interacting with the post :)
It is at the back of that popular night club that everything is happening, where no one can see your distress except the one that enjoys it, where everyone is too busy having fun to pay attention to the veritable purpose of this building. On a dark corner that light never reaches, a man is guarding the most important secret of that place, and very few are the people he lets through; only rich and influential men and women get their ticket for this special spectacle that takes place here every night.
Down there, the loud music is replaced by the shouts of excited men that makes her sigh; why do they have to scream like animals? If she gets a few glances, no one dares to say anything as the infamous Black Widow is walking through the crowd to get to her place. She has blood on her back, people are whispering, some from admiration, others from fear, but no one stays indifferent - how could they? One of the most important mafia bosses of the city, but also one of the most discreet, is here. She has her reputation and, even if she is rarely seen, she is well-known, so none of the men dares to protest when she decides to take place in their lodge, chasing them out of the room.
From here, she has a perfect view of the cage and, most importantly, of the Dog.
It is obvious that there is no way out of the ring, that you are trapped in that cage until one of these men’s victory - or your last breath - but, somehow, you still believe that defeating them will lead you out of that basement. So, not caring about how many of them are daring to step in your cage, you beat them, one by one. You watch the man you just defeated being escorted out of the cage so the next one could take his place - it gives you a few seconds to catch your breath.
The world is spinning, you can’t even see the faces of your opponents, but you don’t give up. Even if the only thing you want is to curl up in the corner, crying for your mom, you can’t. You can’t because it will mean giving them your life. No, you need to be stronger than them, to pretend that you don’t feel the pain inflicted by their blows, to pretend that you are not bothered by the metallic taste of the blood in your mouth, they need to believe you could do that all night. But you are not foolish and you know damn well that you won’t last long.
It is hard to focus on anything, even on breathing, because you are overwhelmed by a crew you can't even see, blinded by the lights; you are the spectacle. They all came to see the Dog fighting, hoping to witness its fall. They are shouting, mostly insults in Russian, whistling and clapping everytime something exciting is happening during a fight, but it won’t be enough to save you from that place.
Oh, at first, they were cheering for you, but it slowly changed, people getting tired of seeing your pretty face every night. They thought you would be easy to break and hated to be proven wrong, and you perfectly know that the stakes have changed. It is no longer about giving them what they want, entertainment, it is purely about surviving and you noticed how the attitude of your opponents changed over the weeks, becoming more aggressive.
You were a champion, now you are just a little bitch they need to get rid of.
The organization that threw you in that rat hole understood that as much as you did and, tonight, they changed the rules. Tonight, it'll be only you against the world, until they are tired of it. No break, no help, everytime one leaves, the next one is already stepping in the ring, as an endless torture.
Tonight, she will be one of them. She has been looking at you hungrily since the first time she came here, and she knows that you will be hers by the end of the night, after all she came just for that, to take you home.
Even if she is here every night, you never had a chance to notice the woman. She was always sitting in the last row, observing you from her balcony, where she is hidden by the shadow, but she noticed you for sure. The time she came, it was only because of one of her associates that wanted to meet here specifically, she never left since. From the moment her eyes landed on you, she was unable to think about anything else, the way you were looking so innocent but so feroce at the same time got her heart.
She sent a few of her best men, knowing they would lose, as a test, waiting for the moment it would be her turn to enter the cage. She never expected them to win and she would have killed them if they had the audacity to: she is the one that is supposed to defeat you, the only one that has the right to own you. The urge to possess you only grew stronger over the weeks, being deeper every time she came here, she wants to see you as you are breaking under her effect, to control every aspect of your life.
So she patiently waited for the right time to come, she always liked a bit of challenge anyway, having a soft spot for things that are hard to get. She worked hard to get you, spending weeks observing every of your movements: she learned how you are fighting and your habits, she learned to read your body and face as if she was on your mind, and that’s the difference with the others: if you are a game for them, for her, you are a goal she must reach at all costs.
As soon as your eyes laid on her, you knew she wouldn’t back up, somehing in the way she stepped in the cage already made all the difference. It is her confidence. It is the smirk on her face, a cocky one. It is the way her hands are stuck in her pockets while she is observing you. It is the slight sigh as she gets rid of her leather jacket. It is all these details that give the impression that she is just here to settle a formality, already certain of her victory.
Even the way she is moving has something unrealist. Every step, every look, is calculated and almost imperceptible. Usually, you would step forward, ready to fight even before they entered the cage to show them you are not afraid, but this time? You can’t help but instinctively step back when she enters. The movement was slight, as you were already leaning the grid but she noticed it, the way her aura is pressuring you, and she loves it.
As soon as the door was closed, your fate was sealed.
It all happened really fast because she knew exactly what to do, she prepared for that moment. You quickly realized that you were right: the woman had nothing in common with the men you were fighting against earlier, you never stood a chance to win that fight. The realization is more painful than the blows she is currently throwing at you. Every punch you try to land, she knows exactly how to dodge it. As if she was on your mind, she knows exactly where to hit to get you weak, stealing your breath and your strenght, having you on your knees then laying on the floor in less than a few minutes.
At first, you tried to get up, to fight, but she is faster than you are, and wiser, and stronger, and more trained. She is being pretty much better in everything. Soon your vision is so blurry that you can’t see anything, you are feeling so weak that even moving your fingers or keeping your eyes open is just too much.
"Stay still,” she quietly ordered when she noticed you were struggling against her grip - she had you pinned down on the ground by pressing her foot on your back and grabbed your hair to lift a bit your head. "You're going to be mine no matter what, so don't make things harder for yourself, honey."
One.
Two.
Three.
You hear the countdown but, this time, it is not your victory that is announced, it is hers. As soon as her name is shouted by the crew, her grip releases your hair but you simply don't have the strength to move, the news leaves a void in your chest. The pain, but mostly this feeling of emptiness, is keeping you frozen in place. She owns you, and this simple idea is sending shivers through your whole body. You don't realize yet what is happening, thinking that, maybe, it is just a cruel joke on you, and it explains the lack of reaction when she asks you to get up; she needs to grab your arm and lift to get you on your feet.
You stumble, fighting the urge to vomit. Your brain can barely process what is happening, especially when you realize that your feet are not touching the ground anymore. In her arms, you are nothing more than a rag doll, silent and motionless, barely having the energy to keep your eyes open.
"She is not for sale,” she coldly said, her voice bringing you back to reality. As she was on her way to get out of the night club, some men were offering the woman outrageous amounts of money in the hope of getting you, they all backed up once she coldly glanced at them. "No one will ever take you away from me, do you hear that, love? You are safe as long as you’re with me," she then whispered in your ears.
You drift into unconsciousness as soon as the car starts, despite the woman that kept begging you to keep your eyes open, the way she was cadling you not helping. You just had enough time to notice the men sitting at the front of the black van, both armed and intimidating, before falling into darkness.
You opened your eyes again when the car stopped in an alley. It is late, the sun gave its throne to the moon a long time ago and, even if you can't tell what time it is, you know it is the middle of the night. How many hours did you spend down there, fighting for your life? The question makes you sick because the only answer is too many. All these hours for nothing because, no matter how hard you triee, you loose. You were never supposed to win their twisted game, you never got a chance and you slowly realize that the promised freedom was just a lure. For weeks you believed them, you played along their rules, thinking it was the only way to get your life back.
And here you are, in the arms of your new owner, a woman you know nothing about but that now has every rights on you, even if you will live depends exclusively on the redhead's choices. The fear twists your stomach, the humiliation clenches your throat and the exhaustion makes your eyes burning, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you repeat in your head, but you don't know for how long you will be able to keep your tears for yourself.
The woman is not looking at you at all, she is concentrating on not falling as she is walking to the house, barely seeing where her feet are landing. You, however, can't help but observe every detail of her face, noticing how serious her expression is. You are trying to guess how your life is going to be by her side, but you can't, she is a complete mystery and you hate that.
A part of you wants to go back in that basement. It may have been a living hell, but you had your habits, you knew how to survive, now you will have to learn everything again.
You notice that two armed persons are guarding the front door and, when you pass by them, they exchange a few words in Russian. You can't understand a word of what they are saying, but you guess they are greeting the woman, beside some insults, you don't know a lot and only because that's how they used to call you.
The inside of the penthouse is exactly as you imagined it: expensive, tidy and minimalist. You never felt comfortable in that kind of environment, it always reminded you that you will never have a place in that sphere, you are nothing more than their animal, a dog that does everything they want.
Once inside, you almost expected her to drop you on the floor but she didn't. Her grip is strong, as if she doesn't want to let you go, that's because she is scared too. She exchanged a few words in Russian with a woman before heading upstairs.
Your eyes closed because of the light, you don't see much more of the house, nor of where you are going. You can feel that she climbs the stairs, takes a few turns and walks through a door before she eventually lets you go. It is with care that she sits you on the floor of the bathroom.
"Here we are," she whispered, "you can open your eyes, love," she added when she noticed they were still closed. If you can't see her smile, you can feel her hand brushing your cheek.
For weeks you didn't see anything else than pitch darkness and the dimmed light of the basement where you were fighting, it is great to eventually be able to see something else. She even made sure to not turn the big light on, only a small one in the corner that diffuses a subdued light. Somehow, she knows exactly what to do to make you feel comfortable.
"Let me help you," she said, coming closer to kneel in front of you when she realized you couldn't take your bath alone.
On the way home, she sent a message for one of her maids to run a bath for you to enjoy when you arrived. The mirrors fog up and a scent of jasmine fills the room, but even if the idea of taking a bath sounds good, you don't move. You are curled at the exact place she left you in, your knees against your chest.
You are like a dog, but nothing like a fighting one, she thought when she saw how you tried to back up when she reached for your shirt.
"I am not going to do anything," she quietly said, trying to sooth you by using a gentle tone and caressing your cheek with her thumb. "I am going to help you to get rid of those rags so you can get a bath, okay? Then, we can clean your wounds and have a good meal, does this sound good?" she asked and you slowly nodded.
She helps you to get rid of your clothes that are closer to rags honestly as they have holes in them, the fabric being soaked in dirt, blood and sweat, sticking to your skin. You never felt so vulnerable than right now, under her serious gaze, what is she thinking about? It is impossible to guess but you can feel her eyes on your body as she looks you up and down. A quick glance which allows her to take a mental note about all your injuries.
"What are you doing?" she chuckled, when her eyes didn’t land on your chest but on your crossed arms - you were trying to hide, how cute. "How silly you are,” she whispered when noticing you didn't seem to understand what she was talking about, "thinking you can hide like that."
Her tone sounded too sweet for it to genuinely be and there is something behind her gentle tone that is rigging alarms in your head. You can't tell what it is exactly, but there is that weird feeling, your instinct screaming at you to be careful when your body just wants to give up and be in her arms, ‘cause what could go wrong?
She takes your hands to pull them away from your chest so you can’t hide from her anymore. Her grip is firm, just a little too strong so you understand that, despite her sweet smile, she won't hesitate to be harsh with you if you don’t behave. However, she still seems to be extra careful while moving you, as if you were a porcelain doll, because for nothing in the world she would hurt her fragile princess. She slowly takes your arms away so she can give a glance at all your injuries. What she sees makes her sigh, she seems about to say something but keeps her words for herself ; you should have been more careful.
She helped you to get in the bath and it was a nice moment, a few minutes you got for yourself because, surprisingly, she let you bathe yourself alone. Oh, she wasn’t far away, just at the other end of the room, keeping a close eye on you at every time, but dealing with something on her phone. She would occasionally comment on the way you were doing things, talking you throught it so you can shower the proper way, her way. Once you are done, she wraps you on a soft towel, bandages your wounds and gives you clothes that are hers, a hoodie and a short, and you can’t help but notice how good they are smelling, how comfortable you are feeling in these.
"Did you say something?" she genuinely asked, turning to you because she was sure she heard you mumbling a few words.
She was talking about your life here, talking almost alone as you weren’t really talkative, but thinking she would miss the words you whisepered was a mistake because she never misses anything.
"Nothing important," you replied, but this answer doesn't seem to please the woman, something twitching in her eyes, coming from soft to sharp.
"When I ask you a question, you reply to it, am I clear?” she said, immediately leaving what she was doing to come close to you and grab your chin. “You are not the one that gets to decide what’s important, your small brain can't handle big decisions and that's why I am here. I mean, see how it got you to be by yourself …" she continued, looking at you with disdain, as if she was thinking that it is only your fault if you ended up in that rat hole, caught in human trafficking. “I am here to give you a second chance and you better take it ‘cause it may be the last… so don't talk to me like that ever again, did I make myself clear enough?"
The only answer you are able to give her is a whining accompanied by a sniffle and she obviously doesn’t like that. Even if you tried your hardest to not let those tears rolling down your cheeks, you can’t help it, her harsh words only making things worse because you are already hating to disapoint the woman.
"If I knew you would cry, I would've sold you ..", she sighed in annoyance, her nails digging into your skin, "I hate cry-babies, understand?" she asked, but it wasn’t not a question: it was a warning. "The fighter I saw in that ring must be here when I am back," she coldly added before releasing the pressure she was exerting on your face.
She leaves, slamming the door shut so you easily understand that she is upset with you reacting that way. She has done everything she could in order to help you to be comfortable here : she gave you a bath and clothes, cleaned your wounds, promised you a meal and a bed, even gave you comfort but it still doesn't seem to be enough because you were crying as if she was some sort of monster, and she can't bear that vision. She tried to repeat to herself that you are just tired, that things are going to get better with time but it doesn’t calm her down. Whether you want it or not, she will make sure that, one way or another, you will accept her and she won't hesitate to use the hard way if she has to.
When she comes back, she notices that didn't move an inch, scared by what the woman could say and impressed by the bedroom. But it didn’t prevent your eyes from wandering around the room. It is really minimalist, there is nothing that could give you a hint about the person she is, everything is exactly where it should be, not a speck of dust and no personal objects. It feels like a hotel room more than hers.
When you hear the door, your gaze settles on the woman. Your knees are bent against your chest as if it could protect you from all the dangers of the world. She probably left you for only five minutes, but they felt like hours. Your thoughts had time to run while waiting for her : what about trying to escape? But it never worked, it’s always a dead end, a path to regrets because they always find you, making sure you won’t even think about doing it again and, if they do not find you, it's someone else. You learned that there is no escape and gave up on going back to your old life a long time ago. It is not even the fear of the armed men that is keeping you here, it's the void in you when you think about what you would do if you were free again, nothing. Nothing because you forgot how to live on your own. So you didn't move, not even a finger because she didn't ask you to do it, only being a dog that lives for its masters' will.
But what piques your curiosity is more the tray in her hands than anything else. As soon as she enters the room, closing the door behind her with her foot, a pleasant smell spreads through the room. You can see many things on the tray she brought back : a glass of water, some pills, a bowl of steaming soup with bread and a plate with rice, vegetables and chicken. When was the last time you ate a real meal? Long enough for you to not remember what it was.
"Eat." she said as she put the tray on your knees.
It smells good. That's the first thought that crossed your mind when you saw the plate. For a moment, you forget about the past hours; when was the last time you got a real meal? You can't remember, not even a fragment of a memory.
You would eat what your owners give you, eat quickly before they come back, never knowing what you are eating nor when the next meal would be; you learned to not ask too many questions. At first, it was difficult to accept such a fate: you would refuse to even taste the food they were giving to you, but it didn't last long. Eventually, you started to eat - inhale - anything you were given without thinking twice about it.
Tonight, for the first time in years, you are going to eat something else than the leftovers of someone you don't even know. Tonight, you won't have to be scared about your food being stolen. Tonight, you can even see the smoke, a sign that your meal is still hot, freshly cooked and maybe homemade.
"I-," you started, but she didn't let you finish your sentence, your lips barely had time to move that she already cut you, leaving no place for an argument.
I am not hungry, you were about to say, and she somehow knew it. She also knew it was a lie, your stomach has been painfully twisted because of that sick feeling for days, but the knot is also caused by your fears.
It all feels a bit too perfect. It feels like a trap, a way to encourage you to let your guard down only to break you after, making the fall harder. Some did that in the past, why not her? She doesn't look less cruel than the others. Yet, when she is talking, she seems more genuine, you could believe her when she says she only wants what's best for you, that she cares, she just has a twisted way to show it.
"Yes, you are, so eat, now," she ordered you with such a cold tone that you don't dare to argue. There are all these warnings she doesn't say out loud but you can read in her eyes: just do whatever I tell you, pretty girl, they say.
And, for sure, you don't want to face the consequences of your insubordination. So you slowly take the fork, not glancing away for one second, your eyes into hers. You are looking at every detail of her expression as if it would change, telling you that it is a trap, except it doesn't and her expression stays stern. It is impossible to read anything on her face, not even a hint of how she is feeling.
You take the first bit, carefully swallowing and… nothing happens. You don't feel weird, it doesn't taste bad and she doesn't snap at you for a small imaginary mistake you would have made. It is the complete opposite. The food is really good, melting on your tongue, and you start to eat quickly, not because you have to, but because you want to. For the first time in years, eating is a pleasure.
She sighed when she noticed that you were inhaling your food, but she didn't say anything; she will have all the time later to change that habit of you. So she just stood there for a few seconds, observing you in silence, with her arms crossed, before sitting next to you - that's when you broke eye contact, once she was sure you would eat everything.
As you are eating, she is barely paying attention to you, at least that's the impression she is giving. One of her arms wrapped around your shoulder, her hand is absently drawing circles on your skin while she is on her phone, dealing with something serious - you can hear her frustrated sighs from time to time.
Except she sees everything and your mistake was to not be careful enough around the woman. A little because of your clumsiness, mainly because of how fast you were eating, you dropped a bit of your food on the floor. You didn't think it was a big deal, picking it up to put it back on the plate. Three seconds rules, dropped on a clean floor, you don't have very high standards anyway - but she does. She turned to you the moment she felt you were moving, a curious, but disgusted, look on her face.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her hand grabbing your wrist before you could drop the bit of food on your plate. She moves your hand on the side of the tray, far from your plate, before you even get a chance to reply. "Drop it," she ordered to you, "that's gross, hope you weren't going to eat that."
You shake your head, too scared to do anything else, but she knows you are lying; of course you were about to eat it. You spent the past years living like a fighting dog, you would eat anything she would give you, you might even eat directly from the dirty floor if she asked you to. She winces in disgust, not letting your hand go.
"Give me that," she snarled and you can feel how her grip tightened on your wrist to force you to give the fork away.
She then takes the tray that was in front of you to put it on her side of the bed, you are looking at her, scared she would definitely take your meal away. You are about to protest when she notices it and glances at you, daring you to say a word, you don't.
"Come here," she said, gesturing you to come closer, she even grabbed your arm to guide you when she noticed you were hesitant to move.
She sits you between her legs and you are clearly uncomfortable, wiggling, but if she notices it, she doesn't seem to care. She is so close to you that you can feel her breath tickling your skin, but she keeps acting like nothing is weird here. When she leans to cut your food, you can feel her chest pressing against your back, the contact making your heart races. Too focused on how close you are to the woman, you barely noticed when she approached the fork from your mouth, waiting for you to open. It takes one more second for you to understand what she is waiting for and, when you do, you blush in embarrassment. She takes advantage of you opening your mouth to say something to feed you, and you don't dare to push her away.
"Can't even eat alone, hm?" she whispered in your ear while you were chewing the bit of food she just gave you, "but that's fine, I am here now," she added, and there is something in her tone that makes you shiver.
Once she made sure you ate everything, she wrapped her arms around you, laying a kiss on your temple. It is strange how safe you are feeling in her embrace: for a few seconds you forget she is the one that beat you earlier. Right now, she is just someone that cares for you, with whom you feel at peace. You can't remember the last time someone made you feel that way, you can barely remember your life before entering the human trafficking circuit.
You don’t really know when you fell asleep, but your eyes were quick to close under the effects of her fingers running on your hair and of her voice whispering sweet words in your ears. At some point, a maid came to take the empty tray away and the woman layed the both of you in the bed, under the covers, trying her best to not wake you up. This night, you slept in a comfy bed, feeling protected in the arms of the woman despite the things she did, not even thinking one second about pushing away her hands that found their way under your sweatshirt, resting on your stomach.
The Dog fell right into the Black Widow’s web.
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow x reader#mob boss natasha romanoff#reader insert#mcu women#mcu fanfiction#angst#angst with comfort
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can you do a dark!g!p!step-cest Natasha Romanoff x f!reader? Please
Attitude.
Stepsis!Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader.
Warnings: G!P Natasha, Dark Natasha, crying, dub-con, forced blow jobs, fingering, dragging, swearing, arguing.
A/n: Being used by Nat >>> This is really bad and quick. Not proofread. :)
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
"I am so done with your shit! Your attitude is disgusting!" Natasha screamed out, waving her hands in the air, frustrated. Ever since your mum and her dad left for town, you had been arguing with each other, at even other throats contanstly. Around 5 small petty agurments a day. This time, you had upset her by refusing her touch. She was very quick tempered and domineering, plus she had been very touchy lately.
"Natasha, I am really sorry, I didn't mean to!" You cried out, more tears falling freely.
"You say that all the time!" She seethed. "Oh, I am so sorry, Nat. Please forgive me," She mocked. "You're pathetic y/n."
"Natahsa, please, I really mean it. I am really sorry!"
"You know what? I am done with your shit." Her voice was firm and cold.
"W-what?" You breath hitched, scared at what she would do next. Natasha grabbed your hair, you hand a flew to the back of your head, trying to pull her hand away. She pushed you to your knees harshly.
"Ow!" You whine out the impact hurting your knees. Natasha laughed as she tightend her grip.
"Stop with the whining bitch." She spat in your face. you whimpered fresh tears welling up.
"You look so pretty on your knees for me."
"Natasha, please am sorry." You begged.
"Sorry isn't good enough." More tears came rushing. You really wanted Natasha forgiveness.
"Nat-" Before you could finish talking, Natasha unzipped her pants and let her shaft spring free.
"I can't resist you y/n. You're so cute. So lovable," You looked up to her with wide eyes."Get to sucking baby girl. Show me how bad you want me to forgive you." She slapped her cock against your cheek signaling for you to open up. She shook your head no.
"Nu-uh," you refused. her lips twisted into a cruel sneer. "You're playing hard to get, huh? But you know you can't resist me." You shook your head again. "Y/n, do you think I have time for this shit?! Open up!"
You refused once more. "Fine, you wanna be like that." She let go of your head with a shake and pinches your nose. You tried your best to keep your mouth sealed, but the lack of oxygen was getting to you, Natasha smeared her precum all over your lips with her pink tip, teasing you. Eventually, you opened up a little bit just to get the slightest breath off air, but Natasha was fast. She shoved her cock down your throat and let go of your nose. She grabbed your hair again to make a makeshift ponytail.
Natasha body trembles from pleasure as she sits there in your mouth. You bashed your hands on her thighs, struggling to breathe and get custom to her shaft. You looked up to her with watery eyes, mascara running down your cheeks. Her voice is rough, almost hoarse "Don't you fucking dare try to play innocent with me. You're a born slut and you love it. I can see it in your eyes."
Natashas breathing becomes ragged as she slams herself deeper inside your throat "Mmm...you feel so fucking hot. So wet. My dirty little cocksucker. Such a nasty little whore. Such an obedient little bitch. And you love every second of it don't you? Every single moment." You shook your head no. Gagging and spluttering around her cock as she fuck you throat as if it was a personal fleshlight.
"Good girl." She moaned. Using you harder and faster. Tou drooled a mixture of spit and cum down your chin and onto the wooden floor. Her grip tightens further as she cums hard, shooting hot ropes of sticky white liquid deep inside your throat. Your cheeks bulge slightly as you struggle to swallow every last drop without gagging. After what seems like forever, she finally releases you, panting heavily. You lay there on the floor, holding your chest, heaving for air.
"So good doll." She said before picking up your leg. She started dragging you into the living room. You screamed and cried, body jumping as you landed on the couch. she looked at you hungrily, licking her lips seductively. "I want more." she says firmly. The redhead straddled your legs, pinning your arms above your head. You writhed under her, begging her to let you go.
"Natasha no please!"
she laughs darkly. "No?" she asks mockingly, staring at you with an evil glint in her eye. "What if I say 'Yes?' What then?" she teases playfully, pressing her body against yours. You quickly shook your head no. She chuckled. "Oh yes, baby, let me show you what real pleasure feels like."
She smirks as she watches you struggle to free yourself from her grasp. You're trapped between her powerful thighs. The way she grinds her hips makes it clear how much fun she has in mind. She whips out a pocket knife from her Jean pockets.
"Woah!" You shouted eyes widen eyes.
"Don't worry, princess, I am not going to hurt you unless you give me a reason to." She twisted her head to the side, tracing the knife down you breast valley. She smiles wickedly, slicing off your shirt and tossing it aside before ripping open your trousers and underwear simultaneously. You feel cold air rush across your exposed skin as she stares intently at you, hearing the knife clank on the floor. "Now now," she coos softly, running her fingers along your inner thighs gently. You softly cried, whimpering her name over and over again.
Natasha kissed your cheek affectionately. "Shhh shhhh It will all be alright, darling." She strokes your hair lovingly, whispering soothing words. "Just relax.. Relax..there there..." her voice becomes soft and gentle, almost hypnotic. She runs her hands over your chest and stomach, stroking your hair lovingly. "Mmmh, you're so cute when you cry so helpless," she purrs out.
She moans loudly, rubbing her hand over your chest as she continues exploring every inch of your body with passionate intensity. "Such soft skin," she murmurs. "And such sensitive spots" trailing light kisses down your neck and shoulders. "So perfect for fucking." She moves her fingers down to your clitoris, circling it gently, feeling the wetness build between your legs "mmm you're so wet. You like this, don't you?" she teases, looking at you list blown eyes. "Is this what you wanted? A weak little girl who can't even defend herself?" She giggles devilishly, squeezing your breast.
"Nat stop, please." You moaned slightly the pleasure building up.She continues teasing you mercilessly, rubbing her finger tips over your sensitive clit while fingering you slowly. Your breath becomes heavy as you struggle to keep quiet. "Please, what? Please stop?" She says mockingly, enjoying every second of your suffering.She giggles darkly. "Ahhh, but you can't stop me." She slides two fingers inside you slowly, thrusting them in and out forcefully. "Come on, come on, baby." She looks up at you expectantly, waiting for you to enjoy yourself.
She presses her thumb against your clit firmly, rubbing it rapidly while continuing to finger-fuck you ruthlessly. "That's it cum for me, baby," She whispers encouragingly, licking her lips hungrily. She smiles wickedly, watching as your body tenses up in pleasure. "That's right, come for me, baby." She thrusts her fingers in deeper, hitting your g spot perfectly, sending shivers down your spine. You cry out her name slowly, succumbing to the pleasure.
"Natasha!" You cried out at the pleasure. Repeatedly, bringing you close to climax. "Just one more push, and I'll make you cum all over my hand." She was so eager to taste your. Teasing you with her fingers, bringing you close to the edge. "Tell me, who do you belong to?" She looks up at you, her eyes dark and menacing.making your body shake with each thrust.
"You!" Your back arched off the couch. She smiles wickedly, feeling your muscles tighten around her fingers.
"Yeah, that's it. Come for me, baby. Feel the ecstasy." She grins darkly, watching as you writhe around in pleasure. She watches as your body tenses up, and you release in an intense wave of orgasm. You scream her name one final time, your whole body shuddering as you climax. She pulls her fingers out slowly, spreading your juices all over her hand and licking them with a satisfied smirk. Natasha enjoys the sight of you laying there panting heavily, unable to move or speak. "Good girl," she says softly, reaching forward to stroke your hair lovingly. "It's okay now, relax. Just lay back and enjoy the afterglow." She gives you a soft kiss on the kiss.
"Am so proud of you. Let me take care of you now. You are forgiven, baby." She cooed into your ear. You were hers now, and you couldn't deny it.
#natasha romanoff#nat x reader#natalia romanova#natasha#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff x you#nat x you#natasha marvel#dark natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fanfic#natalia alianovna romanova#dark natasha#natasha ramanoff#mean natasha#natasha romanoff drabble#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff imagine
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Watching you
A/n: kinda wanna make a part two of this let me know if you want one.
Pairings: Stalker Fan!Natasha x Popstar!reader
Warnings: dub con, Nat has a dick, dark!nat, obsessive!nat, stalking, rough smut, some degradation (mainly the use of the term slut), mentions of violence, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, Nat is literally a mastermind in this lol.
Summary: Natasha is your biggest fan. Your only number one fan. Or so she thinks. What happens when she finally makes her way backstage?
You belong with Natasha.
How could you not see it? How could you ignore all the love letters she’s sent you. The flowers?
The redhead went to another one of your concerts, this time in Miami.
You’ve ignored her letters and gifts. So now she has to get to you personally. Luckily, she is a trained assassin. So she has the needed skills to get backstage.
After she enjoyed the way you sung and danced to your songs and thanked everyone for coming and wished them Goodnight and a safe drive home, her plan got put into action.
She was able to steal a map of the place, which included where your dressing room was located. Bingo.
Natasha walked up to a lone security guard that was standing in the darkness. She snuck up behind him and knocked him unconscious before taking his clothes.
She went behind a curtain and quickly changed into the security uniform. Throwing on the baseball cap, she was able to get backstage.
Roadies, other guards, assistants, venue staff all paid her no mind as she made her way to your dressing room. She smirked, it was all so easy. If she had done this already, she would’ve been living in your Malibu beach mansion with you knocked up with her children. Oh how she wanted to get you pregnant so bad. To see your body swelled up.
The assassin felt herself get hard under her cargo pants, and she bit her lip. Finally, she made it to your dressing room. Knocking on the door she heard your soft voice call “come in”
Natasha walked in and quickly locked the door. You looked to her in confusion. “What’s going on?” You asked.
She took her cap off to reveal her beautiful red bob.
Your eyes widened. Natasha Romanoff was in your dressing room? Why? Doesn’t she have a world to save.
“N-Natasha Romanoff? What are you doing here? You’re an avenger!” You couldn’t help but fangirl a little bit since hello, an avenger is in your presence!
The redhead slowly walked towards you till you were backed against the wall. You gulped nervously. “I wanted- no. Needed to see you.”
“Why?”
“Because, I’ve fallen for you Y/n L/n.”
“F-fallen for me? But we’ve never even met before?”
“That is true but I believe that you are my soulmate. And I want to get your pregnant with my children.” Her words alarmed you and before you knew it her lips were on yours. You tried to push her back but she was way stronger than you. And, the kiss felt good. You’ve haven’t been kissed in awhile ever since your boyfriend broke up with you.
You felt her grinding her bulge against your front. You gasped softly, feeling it through the thin material of your blue sequin dress.
Natasha began to kiss your neck and you moaned softly, letting her do whatever she wanted to you.
She pulled at your dress and slid down. Revealing you wore no bra.
“Dirty girl. No bra on stage? So these titties can just pop right out.” The assassin kissed down your neck and collar bone, before taking a nipple into her mouth.
You arched towards her, closing your eyes as you felt her suck and bite on the sensitive flesh. She switched the other one and gave it the same treatment as her hand creeped down inside your wet panties.
“Mmm, so wet for me.” She groaned, pulling them down swiftly with one hand before entering two fingers inside you.
“Oh!” You moaned as she entered them and started pumping in and out, going faster by the second. Her thumb rubbed your clit in circles and you kept moaning and crying out. “Shh, don’t want anyone to come looking for you and see you being fucked like a slut now do you?”
You shook your head with wide, teary eyes and she placed another passionate kiss on your lips as she fingered you.
You felt yourself getting closer to the edge before you clenched around her and let go, your orgasm washing over you.
“Fuck, that’s a good slut.” She pulled her fingers out and sucked them clean, moaning at the taste.
Before you knew it your chest was flat against the wall and you heard her roughly pull her pants and boxers off. It was a well known fact that Natasha Romanoff was packing. And well, you’re more than happy to experience it.
Her tip already leaking with precum, she teasingly slid it up and down your drenched folds.
“I can’t wait to get you pregnant, all filled up with my cum.” She moaned before slowly entering you.
“Fuck you’re tight. Oh my god baby.” Natasha started thrusting into you, and you tried your best to keep quiet. But it got harder and harder as she started thrusting faster and faster.
“Mmm…” your moans were muffled by her covering your mouth. She spoke dirty words in your ear.
“Look at you, taking my dick like a good slut. Bet you’re gonna be a good mommy too. Im gonna get you round and full of my baby. Then while you’re pregnant I’m gonna fuck you more and drink that sweet milk from your tits.” Your eyes widened, fuck, you’ve never wanted anything more in your life!
“Do you want that, babygirl?”
“Y-yes!” You moaned.
“How much do you want it?”
“M-more than a Grammy!” You couldn’t help yourself and she smirked at your answer. “That’s my girl.” The assassin started fucking into you harder and harder before spilling her hot, white load inside of your womb.
“Oh!” You sighed.
With her cock still in you, she turned your head and gave you a kiss on the cheek. “You have no idea how much I love you.”
And while you couldn’t really say the same thing back, you didn’t mind the circumstances.
#marvel#marvel smut#marvel x reader#top natasha#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x reader#g!p natasha#dark!natasha#popstar!reader#stalker!natasha#dark fic#smut
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Who Are You People?!
Yelena Belova x F!R (Platonic)
Natasha Romanoff x F!R
Yelena had a tendency to bring home strays, and it had always bothered you, until one day it didn’t. WC: 1,929
Request(via dm): “could you do a imagine where Yelena keeps bringing home random animals and even people and drives the reader up the wall” | I gave it a cute little romance spin
Yelena had a tendency to miss signs. Trained as she may be, with the discipline to prove it, she just never was much for understanding the social norms. So, you had learned to adapt—after that first night as roomies, when she told you everything she’d done and been you hadn’t much of a choice. There was no such thing as a filter, she believed in open conversations, which didn’t bother you. It was her belief in the open doors that did.
——
The first time you came home to one of her eccentric guests you were startled into losing your groceries. A frown befell your face as the soy milk box spewed its contents on the floor along with the yolks of your eggs.
Fanny, as you’ve learned to know, and love her as, was there to lick up the mess. After she’d finished licking your cheek in a rushed greeting, she’d disposed of your hard earned money in the form of the wasted food.
Yelena had apologized, and for some odd reason you believed she took the hint after the entire ordeal.
Then you came home a week later to find her nowhere, but your house sure wasn’t empty. Five woman in various positions all looked up at you with fierce eyes. One of them raised her arm, and the loud whirring told you all you needed to know. These were widows, and the pain you were about to feel would be hellish.
“Oksana, put your arm down, this is just Y/N,” your roommate admonished her friend with the black hair, “Honestly cyka, you should be able to see she is of no real threat, or have you lost touch with your eyes?”
Then the blonde turned to you with a genuine smile, as if she didn’t nearly get you fried, then call you weak. “Would you like to join us for game night Y/N/N?”
You sighed harshly through your nose, tempering the anger you felt for the sake of your new friend’s heart. She was strong, but you could also tell she was soft, and breaking her spirit for her lack of social understanding, at no fault of her own, would be cruel.
“Sorry Lena, but I have to be up early,” you lied, and gave the girl a quick hug before heading upstairs to your room where you enjoyed the needed solitude.
Occurrences like that became normal, the random game nights, and the alarming amount of new animals you found yourself feeding, and faces you’d forget. Yelena trusted easily, as in, she knew that if anyone she brought home on a whim would try anything, she could handle them without even breaking a sweat.
You put up with just about everything—if she had a mission gone wrong, her stitched up field partner, a cheery girl by the name of Kate Bishop, would sleep on your couch and greet you with sudoku and breakfast.
That first meeting was terrible too, as you’d stumbled into your dark house and threw yourself on top of her. It ended quickly, with Yelena coming downstairs with a gun and you and Kate in opposite corners screaming.
Her in pain, and you in fear. You had left to bed embarrassed, and woke up to laugh about it with her.
You don’t mind the archer, but you would have liked a heads up. You always wanted it, but never received it, and slowly but surely a festering of resentment resided.
Everything honestly came to a head last night, when you finally agreed to spend the night in a shitty bar with your favorite coworkers. You’d let loose way beyond your limits, and as you were rushed into the house by a equally drunk friend all you wanted was to make yourself a mug of tea, grab a snack, and sleep.
Yet when you went to make yourself something you found that your tea was used up, the kitchen was a mess of wasted food and dishes, and Yelena’s strangers were all asleep around the place, one even in your bed.
“Yelena!” The blonde cringed from her place on the balcony, where she stood with a dying bud in her hand. She hoped you’d go home with a friend, or a stranger of your own, so that she would have been able to clean up the mess that had occurred from a party gone bad.
You never told her to stop, but she always saw in your eyes that you didn’t trust her process of friend making. The truth was the blonde just liked the freedom to choose. No one could tell her the man with the eye patch on the corner was bad news, and make her stop talking to him. He told her stories about his life as a young man, and how it ended him here, she believed that no one was undeserving of sharing their stories.
Still, she felt guilty for letting these friends inside to trash your place. Kenny was never meant to be in your room, let alone be allowed to sleep, but she was just too drunk an hour ago to care about removing him.
You waited with your arms crossed for her to join you in the kitchen, and when she entered you let loose. “Yelena, I do not care who you keep as company, but for the love of God never let them in my bed again, give me a heads up from now on, and keep the place tidy!”
The blonde blinked a few times, having expected your tirade to be more venomous, but she appreciated that it wasn’t. You were clearly mad, but you weren’t rude.
“Okay, I’m sorry you can have my room tonight, and I promise everyone will be gone by morning Y/N.”
After that conversation she seemed to understand that just letting anyone in, without at least a heads up, was poor etiquette, which wouldn’t fly. The blonde strived to be the best roommate, she once told you she would be so good that they’d have to give her the crown for it.
You didn’t have the heart to tell her it would never happen, actually, you had the big heart that led to you leaving an emerald bejeweled crown for her on the counter one morning. The childlike smile she wore was enough to keep you from regretting it when she wore it all day and made you read the congratulations they’d (you’d) left for her. It made you feel warm inside to be able to help the former assassin heal her inner child.
But now, as you stood before a stunning woman in nothing but a raggedy shirt and old white, cotton panties you were feeling that regret return and double.
When you went to sleep last night you were once again not informed to be prepared for strangers in the form of guests. In Yelena’s defense though she wasn’t exactly expecting this one, so she rushed out the door with an excited Fanny and whispered to her sister to keep it quiet so you could sleep off your night out on the town.
Unfortunately, the sound of the front door closing was enough to rouse you, your eyes opened and a groan slipped passed your lips as the bright sun beamed into your face mockingly. After a moment of calm you felt a headache burning behind your arm covered eyes, so you headed down the stairs to get to your kitchen for a cup of water so that you could take an Advil and crash.
“I, um, I’m sorry,” you managed to squeak out, and in an embarrassed rush you turned on your feet, but before you could even move up a step you were halted.
“Hey,” she rasped, and watched in amusement as your spine shivered before her very eyes. “There’s no need to apologize darling, this is your house after all. I’m sorry to have barged in, but I needed somewhere to lay low for a while. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”
Your stomach swirled with aroused tension, the pet name, the gritty tone of her voice, and the intense look in her eyes had you going weak in the knees. It showed as you stumbled down the last two steps and skirted to a stop just before her. “No, it’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting company is all. I’d have gotten dressed.”
Natasha was suave with the way she pushed your bodies together, using the wall to keep you trapped against her, and unable to avoid her temptations. It was only a breaths time for you to find yourself there.
“I can assure you honey,” her hand fell to your thigh and your heart raced incessantly. “I don’t mind.”
“I don’t either,” you admitted, but felt too seen so you continued on, “That you stay here, to lay low, that is.”
“Oh,” she teased, with the lightness in her voice, “I’m so glad to hear that, because we will have the chance to get to know each other better. Maybe we’ll even…”
You wanted to know what might be, but fate decided to leave that for another day as the door flew open and Yelena shrieked, “Oh my god, no, Fanny girl cover your eyes!” You looked over in confusion. “Natasha, unhand my roommate now!” The redhead rolled her eyes, and stepped back with a smirk as you whined at her loss.
You hadn’t a chance to protest—or even say goodbye, as Yelena reached for her sister’s hand and pulled her away, fighting with her in their mother tongue.
“Chto s toboy ne tak.”
(What the fuck is wrong with you?)
“Mne? chto s toboy ne tak?! ona velikolepna, i ty derzhal yeye ot menya”
(me? what's wrong with you?! she is gorgeous and you kept her from me)
“Ona zapreshchena, Natal'ya”
(she is off limits, Natalia)
“Eto ne to, chto skazali yeye glaza.”
(that's not what her eyes said)
The door slammed and you didn’t even flinch, too busy daydreaming about the moments prior. And for the first time since Yelena had become your very own (craigslist found) roommate you didn’t mind the thought of getting to see one of her guests again; Natasha had made her mark on you in record time.
——
That night, Yelena came back with her head low, and elder sister in tow. The redhead smiled triumphantly as she winked at you, your nervous gaze fell, and in her hands laid a sleeping kitten. “Y/N, meet Liho…”
You chuckled in amusement, and scooped the kitten up and settled her into your lap. “What’s so funny detka?”
“It’s just,” you stifled another rude laugh. “Yelena’s strays have never brought one of their own before.”
Natasha took a second to process your tease as she sat beside you, eventually she leaned forward, her chin resting on your tense shoulder. “I am more so a lone wolf type, no one’s stray. I plan on sticking around for a while too, so I hope you don’t make it a habit of being so bare in front of my sister, save that for me instead.”
“Also,” she scooped the sleeping kitten up and onto her shoulder, “Liho is no longer a stray, she is a house cat.”
Yelena settled beside you, frowning, “I’m sorry Y/N…”
“Don’t be,” you shrugged her off, and patted her knee before you followed the trail of her sisters upstairs.
Yelena huffed, and snuggled into her Akita’s fur. “This is why I prefer dogs to people. They are so overrated.”
——
R (for real)
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff oneshot#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x y/n#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#natasha x fem!reader#natasha x yelena#yelena belova#yelena belova fluff#yelena belova oneshot#yelena belova x you#yelena belova x y/n#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova x platonic!reader#yelena belova x female reader#gxg
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When the Cat and the Mouse go for a midnight dance.
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
Tags: Agent Natasha x Criminal // Antihero Reader, violence, blood, murder and death, questionable moral reader, romantic insinuation (but not smut). Basically reader being a little shit and Natasha being tired of it. Fun and violent times :)
Summary —> Natasha has been chasing you, a fugitive and self claimed vigilante, for a while. One night, your paths cross again and you can’t help but to tease her a bit.
WORD COUNT: 2025
The sun’s warmth has faded, yielding to dense shadows that engulf the streets. Amid dark corners and treacherous alleys, fear triggers instincts, the sympathetic system heightening defenses and hijacking paranoia. Adrenaline kicks in, heart racing, body preparing fro any kind of danger looming around the corners.
And yet, you’ve always found a sense of comfort in it.
“Nah, I’m telling you, man, forget him. I’m not going back; that place is a hellhole.” a slightly drunk voice slurs, echoing against brick walls as rats scurry from dumpsters. A lighter crackles, followed by smoke drifting in the chilled breeze.
”Oh yeah? So, when are you telling him that?” Another scrawny voice asks with amusement. A silence, followed by a dry chuckle. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Smoke drifts slightly with the breeze, temperature drooping slightly.
“Shit, it's freezing out here.” One of the two complains.
The darkness the night brings…It allows you to hide. Yourself, your actions. From praying eyes. From the world. Perhaps even God if you are a believer.
“We’ve been safeguarding the warehouse for ages. What’s in there that he cares so much about?” he asks, taking another drag of his cigarette. For his voice, it was easy to guess he has had the nasty habit of smoking for years.
“Who knows. Drugs, guns, people…his usual shit.” His friend answers. “Honestly, I rather not know.”
You take the shot on your hand, leaving it on the trail before shaking your hair messily. A sigh scapes your lips as your hands pull down on your uncomfortably short dress.
“Whatever. I don’t give a damn as long as the money keeps flowing. Maybe he could throw in one of those spare companions of his.” The smile in his tone is evident.
“What? Want his sloppy seconds?”
“Oh fuck off.”
It allows you to either be the prey…or the hunter.
With practiced, seemingly haphazard steps, you maneuver your way toward one of the two men outside, their head turning immediately. “Woah there, sweetheart,” the one who catches you slurs, his hands immediately on your waist. His eyes darkening as he stares at you. “We wouldn’t want a sweet thing like you to hurt herself now, would we?” His breath reeks of bourbon and tobacco, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at how effortlessly this is playing out.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Your voice is sweet, innocent—a trap. “I’m so clumsy.” He laughs, revealing yellowed and crooked teeth.
“That’s alright, glad I was here.” A silly giggle, another stumble.
“Got lost?” His friend asks, currently behind you. “You shouldn’t be. There are dangerous people out here.”
At least he got that part right.
The shorter one of the two steps closer. “I was just looking for something. Think you can help?” you say, looking up with doe eyes. He appears foolish as he stares with a blurry gaze.
A whistle. “Sure thing.” You find yourself almost trapped between the two.
“Great, thanks.” Your voice returns to normal, and in a matter of seconds, you punch the one in front of you in the throat. His dirty, clammy fingers release you in panic to clutch his throat, emitting a pathetic choking sound.
“What the fu-” As his friend reacts, you swiftly turn around and knee him in the groin. He howls and crumples to the floor with a cry.
“You bitch-“ Douchebg A says as he swings, movement sloppy. You easily dodge, making him tip and fall over his buddie, the two grunting. With a sigh, you grab the collar of his jacket and drag him to the vent of the rooftop, slamming him extra hard for good measure.
He is about to strand up, but you punch him on his nose with all your strength, one, two, three times until blood drips all over his gray shirt. As his back drags down the wall behind him, you kick him full force on the face.Between the pain and the alcohol on his system, he remains seated.
Just as Douchebag B gets on all fours, you walk towards him and kick him on the stomach, making him drop to the floor once again. He rolls around, trying to get away but you grab his hair and slam him downwards.
Making sure both of them are now unmoving, your hands catch the dagger strapped on your thigh and the map. Douchebag B is still wheezing, with a concussion probably. Crouching, you shove the map on his face. “Alright. So, about that help. Point to me where the warehouse is.”
He grunts. “Like hell I’ll tell you.” He spits. A sigh escapes your lips.
”It’s never easy with you people, is it?” Flipping your dagger, you stab in the side of his lower thigh, making him yelp. “I’m not asking nicely again. Point it or I’ll take this out and you’ll bleed out in a few minutes.”
He sputters, shaking his head. You dig deeper and he lets out another cry. Dragging it down, blood starts to spurt, skin and muscle ripping. “Fuck okay, okay! Here, i-its here…S-shit.” His shaky hands marks a street, leaving a smear of blood.
You turn to watch Douchebag A. “Now, you are going to say the address. I hope for both your sakes that it matches.” He mutters it. A pause as your eyes scans the map.
You fold it, a satisfied little smile on your face and then you pull the knife out, getting away just in time to avoid a spurt of blood. “Uh, messy.”
His friends curses. You can see how his face gets pale, breaths becoming shallower as a pool of blood starts to surround him. “What the fuc- He told you! W-we told you!”
Wiping the knife with the soon-to-be dead man on the ground, you put it back in place and walk towards him. A pipe on the ground lifts as you step on it and you grab it.You pout mockingly. “Yeah, I guess you did. Don’t worry, I believe you.”
“Y-you sick bit-..:”
A swing. Two. A sickening sound of broken bones and then nothing.
The silence returns once again, only slightly disturbed by your soft humming as you go back on your steps, closing the rooftop door and returning to the dim hallways of the club. As you advance, the thrumming of the loud music beat alongside your racing heart, a mass of drunken bodies not giving a single fuck at the suspicious now maroon spot on your midnight blue dress.
Entering the bathroom, you swiftly change into your standard attire, concealed within a hidden backpack. Black jeans, a wine crop top, and a dark blue denim jacket replace the compromised ensemble. Glancing in the mirror, you prepare to rejoin the dance floor with a specific goal in mind—the bar.
Where a cute, striking bartender is apparently engrossed in serving drinks. You say apparently because you know that in reality, she is too busy searching for you. Opting to spare her the pursuit, you lock eyes, and your heart quickens for an entirely different reason.
Forest green eyes fixate solely on you, creating a euphoria-like sensation despite your sobriety. A subtle smirk materializes under the focused gaze, and with a gentle sway of your hips, you approach her slowly, almost teasingly. On your way, you accidentally get in the way of a woman, who ends up backing away on a body next to her. ”Oh, so sorry!” You call out with an easy smile, still not changing directions.
“What? Not using the “what is such a beautiful lady like yourself doing here out of all places” line?” You tease, sitting on the stool, resting your chin on your right hand. She scoffs.
”Oh please, we both know that the lady is fully aware of what she is doing.” Her voice is deep, a bit raspy. Her words are calculated and you just want for her to lose her composure.
With a playful tone, you note. “Hm, you didn’t deny the “beautiful”. Do you fancy me, Agent Romanoff?”
“Hm, perhaps. Only if only you weren’t a worldwide fugitive.” Natasha answers back, tone dripping with mockery.
”I’l take that as a yes.” She wipes a glass, your eyes tracking the simple yet effective movements. “So, tell me. How many to the party did you bring today? For your sake, I hope they aren’t rookies.”
Natasha scoffs. “The building is surrounded. If you come willingly now, it all would go more…easy. For both of us.”
A snort. ”Aw, and cut short this cute Tom and Jerry little game we have? Please. We both know you enjoy it just as much as me, Natalia.” Her name comes out in almost a whisper as you get slightly closer. Your words hang in the air, charged with tension. “Don't tell me you don’t reveal on the thrill of the chase.”
She chuckles, the sound rich and low. “You and your flair for the dramatic. But let's not forget the reality of our situation. You are a criminal, and I’m tasked with bringing you in.”
It’s funny, really. The way in which this banter is maybe the only thing that makes adrenaline rush into your veins, well that besides your job of course. Still, you can't help but feel amused by it. “Yeah, sure, because your buddies are going to stop me. Let’s see, then!”
Clapping with your hands happily, you turn around slightly to look at the crowd. “Who will it be? PDA couplet over there?”
Natasha follows your pointing thumb, frowning when she sees the girl you shoved “accidentally”, now passionately making out with a tall, brunette dude. “The ones who guarded the exits which are currently tied up in the janitors closet?…Or perhaps the one who will tell you about my little handywork?”
Just in time, a slight buzzing tingles in the Russian agent’s ear. “Agent Romanoff, we found two gang members on the roof. One is already dead, several blunt trauma, and the other is about to bleed out. He has a few minutes tops.”
Her veiny hand grips the counter, knuckles turning white. A low whistle escapes you at the sight. “I mean, you could try and stop me yourself. Let me say, I’m not opposed to you putting me in handcuffs.” You tease with a dangerous glint in your eyes, your fingers tracing her left wrist up to her bicep. If she is bothered because of your touch, she doesn’t show it. But you see how her grip relaxes ever so slightly. Hm, interesting. “...or you could go, get the information from that dying bastard before it’s too late and you end up being stuck in a dead-end. Again.”
The wheels in her head are practically visible. Her eyes darken, and her jaw tenses. Oh, how you love to see her all worked up, knowing that you are one of the few who can break her cold composure. You mouth a tick-tock and with a hard downing of the bottle on her hand to the counter.
”This isn’t over. I’ll get my hands on you eventually.”
A pout. “Promise?” With a last scowl, she flies off.
Rushing through the stairs, the cold air hits Natasha on the face, her eyes adjusting to the poor light. “How is he?” Her eyes fall on the weapons you used, hand grabbing the now blooded pipe.
“I already cover the wound, but the blood he's lost is too much. He won't make it to the medbay.” Crouching next to him, Natasha see the sickly pale tone of his face, eyes practically close and hears the shallow, broken breaths. Her eyes inspect the now covered deadly wound and grunts in frustration. “Hey, can you hear me?”
No response. He is dead. Out of frustration, she punches the vent next to him. “Um, ma’am? You should see this.”
A brick wall, right next to the door, with a message written in blood. “When you stop scowling, give me a call dear. Swear I’ll play nice.”
Grunting in frustration, Natasha throws the pipe against the wall, fuming. Looking over the street, she doesn’t see you anywhere. You are gone, even if something tells her you are giggling under the shadows.
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❀ Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Little!Reader (F) x Dark!Natasha Romanoff
❀ Warnings: Mentions of established kidnapping, faking of death, not much smut but small mentions of it, mentions of NON-CON and DUB-CON, MDLG, dark content that is not suitable for minors, forced age regression (if there are some that I missed, please let me know!!)
❀ A/N: Welcome back to the tiny verse everyone! This is the main story of how these other stories are slightly connected. This will be short and straight to the point so not really a story just some main points! This has spoilers to ALL of the fics mentioned! I recommend reading it in this order: Ours For The Taking, Their Little One, Mommy Knows Best, Into the Tiny-verse (this one:) ), His Sisters Keepers, And then any drabbles or stories after that:)
It was well-known information that Natasha could not have a baby. The horrors of the red room she had to endure were to blame. Wanda could, but she didn't want any children. All she wanted was to take care of someone. You. However, Bucky was a very overprotective brother and kept you away from the two women with everything he had. He thought they were dangerous.
During a mission, it was time for the two women to take you away from Bucky for good, making sure that you were truly theirs. And you were Theirs For The Taking. They made you feel so good, making sure you came with ease and teased you and touched you. You were afraid, and sadly you broke just as easily. They were grateful that all of those exhausting orgasms chased all the thoughts of escape out of your mind. Getting settled in with Nat and Wanda, they were discussing that they did want a child, and they knew that your inner child was just waiting to come out. It was something you missed out on after getting hurt with Steve and Bucky.
So, they forced their way into your mind to fish out what little girl they wanted to find. They made you Their Little One and kept you safe in the cabin that you all lived in, in the woods. When Bucky went to Wakanda to fight with Steve, Wanda, and Nat stayed behind with you, making sure you were taken care of. Wanda, being your main source of milk and more Mommy!dom type care, was your "Mommy" and Nat was your "Mama."
Something the three of you figured out was that really only three words pushed you to your tipping point; your Tiny Space. And those three words? Mommy Knows Best. Tiny space is where you have become completely dependent on your mommies. Needing to be carried everywhere, they trained you to put you in diapers when you are in that space, they even make sure that you have all your stuffies in your crib with you at a time. They truly love you and you love them. But now all that's left is making sure the team falls in love with little you, making sure that they love you like your mommies do.
Showing Bucky the real you... That was their biggest fear, showing you to Bucky after they faked your death and took you to make you their own. He knew something and thinks he knows His Sisters Keepers. Now living in their cabin they made just for you, they went to work, you stayed home and colored, played with your stuffies, and napped while they were gone. They would call you, make sure you were okay, and once they were back home it was snuggle time! This was your favorite time of day because this was when you were able to fall asleep the most comfortably.
After drinking some of your mommy Wanda's milk from your favorite pink baby bottle, you were out like a light holding onto Nat's hand. When Nat needs to go get your diaper changed, she brings your toy lion to you, helping you snuggle with it while she pulls your footie pajamas over your diaper-clad bottom. Still slightly asleep from the sedative they put in the bottle with your milk, little whines pour from your mouth. Wanda is quick to soothe you as she carries you with her to her bedroom, laying you down on her bed as she starts to get ready for bed as well.
All this time, they just needed someone to take care of, love, and adore. They were so damn lucky to have found you, and they wouldn't know what to do without you. But they don't have to find out any time soon. And you won't ever find out what it's like to live without them either.
#Wanda Maximoff x Reader x Natasha Romanoff#WandaNat x Reader#barnes!reader x wandanat#Wandanat x Barnes!reader#Wanda Maimoff x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#barnes!reader#WandaNat x Female reader#Wanda x Female reader#Natasha x Female Reader#mommy wanda x reader#mommy natasha x reader#mommy wandanat x little reader#mommy wanda x little reader#little reader#forced age regression#forced mdlg#dark!wanda maximoff x reader#Dark!wandanat x reader#Dark fic
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Heaven in hiding (18+)
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader
Warnings: smut, bottom!Natasha, top! Reader, mention of human trafficking, typical red room stuff
Summary: when it's time for Natasha to go through the final training course you're the one she comes to.
Masterlist
You walk down the dark halls, concrete walls seemingly closing in on you with each step. Today is one of the bad days. Although one could argue that in a place like this all days are bad, you know better. Bad days are a norm, days like this make you want to dig up a hole in the ground and disappear in its depths.
Heavy footsteps following you down the hall promise to make the day even worse.
"Dreykova."
You stop and wait for the man to reach you. Surprisingly, the man isn't alone. You let your eyes wander for a second, taking in Natasha's slumped form. She hides it well from the guard beside her, but there's a slight shakiness to her breath that tells you she's in pain, and the way she favors her right leg makes you worry. You can't help but be proud of her though, even injured, she managed to keep her footsteps silent.
"Today she's assigned to you." He roughly pushes Natasha to you, and turns around without any other words.
You wait until he is out of sight before continuing your way to your room, not sparing another glance to the woman trailing behind you.
"Slower," she breathes out.
You hesitate for a second, but after a short look in her direction you slow down significantly, eyes darting to check for the cameras. You pull her to your side, taking most of her weight when you realize you're in a blind spot. "What happened?"
"Bucky," she hisses and it's all you need to know.
You two are the only ones to know the Winter Soldier by name, brief moments of sudden clarity in his butchered mind allowed you a glimpse into the man he once was. But no matter how bad you felt him, you were ready to shred the man limb by limb every time he hurt Natasha while training.
"I'll have a word with him." You squeeze her side and take a step forward, untangling yourself before rounding the corner. The cameras on the upper part of the wall blink red.
She sends you a look, barely keeping up with your stride. "Don't. He won't remember anything the next day and you'll just get in trouble." Her words are almost inaudible, but to your enhanced hearing they sound clear as day.
You barely manage to hold in a scoff, but don't refrain from rolling your eyes.
You'll get in trouble either way.
After rounding another corner you finally reach a deserted part of the building, right where your room is. Your eyes dart both ways and your ears strain to hear anyone approaching, thankfully, there's no one there.
With one last look down the hall you open the door to your room, holding it for Natasha to come through first. She does so very slowly, finally letting the pain she felt all this time show on her face. Your jaw clenches and you let go of the door, scooping Natasha up in your arms and letting it fall close behind you. You take a second to make sure it's locked before settling her on the bed.
"You didn't have to do that." She mutters, but there's a spark in her eyes that tells you she enjoyed it.
You chuckle and walk around the room collecting everything you might need to treat her injury, from ice to the chocolate bar you hid in your dresser, reserved for moments like this.
Her eyes widen at the sight of it and she doesn't pay attention to what you're doing with her ankle, happily chewing on her guilty pleasure. "Thank you." She manages to say between bites, just as you finish wrapping up her injury, putting the bag of ice on top.
"Anytime," you whisper, falling back against the bedsheets.
It's quiet, only interrupted by occasional crunch of the wrapper and Natasha's contented little sighs and your mind wanders to the plan the two of you formed in the past months.
The plan to get out.
It's easier said than done, to be honest it would be much easier to just jump off a clip, but you'd never let Natasha get hurt, so you're stuck with the harder option.
Bucky helps. You don't know how, but he's been gaining more and more consciousness with every passing week. The last time they wiped him was almost six months ago and you can't help but worry they'll do it again soon, causing your plan to crumble. The sight of Natasha's sprained ankle makes your worry increase tenfold.
You stew in your thoughts, failing to pay attention to the way the redhead slowly turns serious, a solemn expression on her face.
With a nudge to your side she has your full attention and you feel a sense of dread fill your stomach at the haunted look she sends you.
She takes a deep breath. "I saw Dreykov this morning." Her eyes are welled up with tears and suddenly you start to realize the reason why her mood changed so drastically. "It's time."
You sit up, gripping the fabric below you hard enough for it to tear. For a long moment you don't move, simply breathing in and out to try and calm your racing heart. You're overwhelmed by panic and you can't even imagine what Natasha feels like, so you push your feelings aside and turn to face her.
"I'll get you out before it happens." You manage to whisper before jumping to your feet, ready to put your plan in motion months earlier. She catches your arm before you take a step away, pulling you back on the bed.
"If we do this now we're both dead." She punctuates her words with another tug at your hand. Your eyes lock on hers and even though you know she's right you still shake your head, easily escaping the grip she has on you, ready to jump back on your feet. "Stop it," she huffs, and climbs on your lap, wincing in pain.
This time you comply, not wanting to hurt her even more. You lean back on your hands, giving her space.
"Then what do we do? Do you want me to kill them all?" You ask, looking away when a single tear trails down her cheek.
The sound that escapes her throat sounds more like a choke than a laugh. "Then we'll die even sooner."
Her arms circle your shoulders and suddenly she's pulling you snug against her, hiding her face in the crook of your neck. Your hands wrap around her waist instinctively, keeping her from falling over.
"I want to ask you something." Her lips brush against your heated skin. "Something very important."
Your grip on her tightens. "Anything."
She exhales against your collarbone, her eyelashes flutter against your skin while she works up the courage. You tense up, slightly worried about what it might be, but you know you'll agree to anything she says.
She pulls away, putting some distance between you, one of her hands trails up your body to cup your clenched jaw.
"They took everything from me. I can't let them take away this part of me too." Her voice is shaking and her lips tremble. Tears stream down her face freely now, overflowing her vision.
You nod, gears in your mind already turning to formulate another plan, one that would save her from being taken apart by some man.
You're the only woman in this facility allowed to forgo the teachings and only because you're not a Black Widow. If your father had his way, he would've turned you into one and eventually sold your body to some billionaire, but before he could even think about getting his hands on you, Madame B. already had serum running through your veins, making you a much more useful asset. You hate what she's done to you, knowing she did so with no good intent, but at the same time you're grateful she saved you from what Natasha is about to be faced with.
You don't dare ask who your father chose to teach her what he calls the art of seduction. You have a feeling it's Bucky.
Your brows knit in concentration as you struggle to remember tomorrow's patrol schedule, the plan of underground passages leading to the helicopter pad already burned on the back of your mind. The only missing piece is Bucky. You can't do this without his help.
"No." She cuts off your train of thought. You blink rapidly, confused. "That's not what I meant." She adds, closing her eyes. What she says next makes you choke on your breath.
"I want you to have it. I want you to have me," she whispers, her cheeks flaming red.
You sit there, stiff as a board, your mouth slacked and your heart galloping, as she licks her lips nervously, glancing away. Her arm tightens around your shoulder, nails diggings half moons on the burning skin below your training shirt. She patiently awaits your answer while you struggle to form a thought, your eyes fixated on her glistening lips.
"Y/n?" She breathes out. "I understand if you're uncomfortable. I just… I had to ask." Suddenly she's too small, folding in on herself, head falling down in shame and embarrassment and all you can do is stare.
Stare at the way her chest rises with each ragged breath she takes, stare at her flaming red hair, so pretty and soft even in the dim light of your room, stare at the way her green eyes seem brighter than they ever were before, shining with a flurry of emotions. You think you see a flicker of hope.
"Are you sure?" Your voice is hoarse and you clear your throat awkwardly.
There's a smile forming on her lips, a gentle pull at the corners of her mouth, so beautiful that it takes your breath away. "Yes. You're the only one I've ever wanted."
You nod, fixated one the way her smile widens, lighting up her face. "Okay."
Suddenly she's moving fast enough to make you dizzy, pushing against your lips with so much force it makes you tumble back on the bed, pulling her down with you. You kiss her back with just as much vigor, tugging at her bottom lip in a silent question. She gasps, allowing you to slide your tongue in the warmth of her mouth, meeting her tongue in a heated dance.
Her nimble fingers work through your clothes quickly, pulling them one by one in a span of seconds. You follow her lead, taking your time getting her naked, making sure to pay attention to each revealed patch of flawless pale skin, kissing and licking every inch.
You rise to your elbows and push her back on the bed, claiming the spot between her bent knees as you kiss down her stomach to the waistband of her pants. You make sure to be extra gentle in taking them off, paying attention to her swollen ankle. You exhale when you finally have her only in her underwear, patiently laying against your sheets, lips swollen, her hair a tangled mess.
"Are you sure?" You ask again, tracing circles on her hip bone, your other hand sneaking behind her back to rest on her bra clasp.
She barely manages to utter a quiet yes before she's pulling you down to claim your lips in a desperate kiss, her nails digging at the skin of your back when you finally take off her bra, palming her full breasts. She moans, arching her back into your touch, her head falling back against the pillow to reveal her throat. You pull away just for a moment, admiring her lean body, before diving back to leave marks on her throat, gently rolling the skin of her jugular between your teeth before sucking it in, your tongue leaping out to soothe the burn.
Her hand tangles in your hair in a desperate attempt to pull you down to her breasts and you comply, leaving a trail of hickeys in your wake.
The cry she lets out when you finally suck on her hardened nub is almost heavenly. She writhes below you, panting hard as you take your time playing with her peaks, alternating your mouth and fingers, twisting and biting, licking and tugging. Her legs are snug around your waist now, trying to relieve the tension with futile humps against your crotch.
You hum against her chest, rising just enough to make sure she heard you. "I'll give you whatever you want, pretty girl."
Her eyes squeeze shut. "I want everything, please. Everything."
You nod and hook your fingers on the waistband of her panties, tugging them down, watching in fascination how her wetness clings to the fabric. She makes a move to rub her thighs, but you beat her to it, palming her heated center, your fingers teasing her entrance. She cries out and clamps her thigh around your hand, restricting your movement.
You bend over her, holding your weight on one arm. "You have to spread your legs for me, baby." You cup her face, your thumb disappearing between her lips as she sucks it in eagerly.
Her legs spread wide open and you let out a sharp breath, sliding down her body. She's absolutely breathtaking, so wet and puffy, ready for you to take. You place a kiss on the inside of her thigh, then another one and another, your finger still teasing her entrance. She's shaking from tension, her knuckles white from how hard she's pressing her hails in the soft skin of her palms. Your movements are excruciatingly slow as you map the trail leading to her gushing center, sharply inhaling her sweet scent.
She whines and sneaks a hand down, fisting your hair, tugging you to where she needs you most. You go along with the movement, finally placing your lips on her swollen clit, gently pushing a single finger inside her at the same time. She lets out a loud cry, pressing you hard against her and begs you to continue, barely coherent in her words.
You hum in delight, thrusting in her slick pussy and lapping at her nub, sucking it in with each push of your finger, she moves her hips to meet you halfway, tugging at your hair. You try your luck and slowly push another finger in, paying extra attention to her pulsing bud of nerves. She welcomes you with a loud moan, throwing her good leg over your shoulder, her heel digging into your back.
"Harder, please," she whimpers. "I'm so close."
You chuckle against her, and curl your fingers inside her, thrusting against a spongy spot hard enough to make her legs shake. One last lick on her clit and she moans, her whole body tensing up, her grip on your hair ironclad, as she clenches around your fingers, her wetness coating your chin.
You ease out gently, placing gentle pecks to her folds, doing your best to clean her up, avoiding her sensitive bud. She tugs you up, eyes closed, and pulls you in a slow kiss, tasting herself on your lips.
Her eyes sparkle when you pull away, her lip trapped between her teeth. "More?" She asks shyly, trailing a finger down your jaw.
"More," you say, before pulling her in for another bruising kiss.
#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff x reader#black widow x reader#black widow x you#black widow smut#natasha romanoff smut#black widow#natasha romanoff#scarlett johansson x reader#scarlett johansson x you#heaven in hiding
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Gone Bad
Natasha Romanoff x reader
Summary: You're a SHIELD agent on a mission gone bad.
Words: 1.5k
Warnings: blood, getting shot, f!reader
Author's Note: hurt/comfort ig? FLUFF. soft natasha :)
You weren’t sure where exactly you went wrong. You had gotten the mission assignment from Fury, done the required research, made sure you were properly trained, and left quickly. Everything had been going exactly to plan — you snuck in through the roof, incapacitated a few guards, and maneuvered to the underground vault that held the top-secret computer chips you were after. The security system was easy to freeze. The vault was easy to crack.
Only, at some point during your exit, you made a mistake. It could’ve been anything: tripping a sensor, or leaving a guard slightly conscious, or, hell, you could’ve taken a wrong turn and walked right in front of a camera. It didn’t matter. The point was, you had fucked up, and now you were getting shot at.
In the midst of the panic and rush, all that was on your mind was how disappointed Fury would be. This was only your fourth solo mission, and sure, the first three had gone off without a hitch, but agents weren’t supposed to make mistakes. If you managed to worm your way out of this with the chips—and that was a big if—would he even trust you to go on another solo? It didn’t seem likely. This operation was supposed to be a secret, it was supposed to happen completely under the enemies’ noses, but that was all hopeless now. They knew that SHIELD was after them. Shit, they knew that SHIELD was after them.
In all of your spiraling, you didn’t notice the hostile sneaking up behind you and cocking a gun. What you did notice, however, was the sharp, burning pain in the center of your stomach. The agony and blood quickly blooming across your torso. The terror that instantly compounded into a heavy sludge in your gut.
In an instant, fear snapped into focus, and you swiftly knocked the man out and found your way to an exit.
There wasn’t a moment for you to catch your breath as you straddled your motorcycle and peeled down the road, away from the facility. You ducked and cranked the throttle when bullets whizzed past you.
Embarrassingly, the thought of having to explain to Fury how you fucked up brought tears to your eyes, so you made a split-second decision. You haphazardly swung right at the next intersection, ignoring the honks and shouts that followed you. You sped away from SHIELD headquarters and gritted your teeth.
Maybe it was the blood loss, or the fact that you were numb with adrenaline and panic, but you were headed towards a place you had only been a few times — strictly on invitation. But it was the only place you could think of that would take you in if you showed up verging on death.
“If she’s not here,” you wheezed to yourself, stepping off of your bike and limping through the dark parking garage. “I’ll just check her other place. Yeah. I’ll check the other place.”
No matter how many times you repeated that to yourself, by the time you had dragged yourself to her door, you knew you had no chance of getting anywhere else. You were already dangerously lightheaded, swaying with every knock you landed.
At some point you collapsed against it. You didn’t want to believe that she wasn’t home. You couldn’t.
Your name, foggy and distorted, pulled you from comfortable darkness. Hands shook your shoulders, and someone called your name again.
Natasha’s face blurred into focus. There was a crease between her eyebrows. “What happened?”
The day came flooding back, and with it, the pain. “Mission,” you breathed weakly.
The corners of her mouth quirked up, her eyes brightening. “Mission?”
“Didn’t really go well,” you finished, glancing down at your shirt. It was soaked through with blood.
Natasha’s gaze followed yours, and a heavy sigh escaped her lips. “Why didn’t you go back to SHIELD?”
You swallowed.
After a moment of thick silence, she stood up from her crouched position and grabbed your hands, pulling you to your feet with ease. Your vision immediately went black and you slumped against her.
“Okay,” she mumbled, trying to quiet the fear roaring inside of her. “Okay, let’s get you inside.”
When you came to for a second time, it was nearly sunrise, and Natasha sat beside you on the couch, watching a muted hockey game. Your shirt was off, leaving you in a sports bra, and your stomach was wrapped in clean white gauze. When you shifted, her attention immediately snapped to you.
“Morning,” she said quietly, her expression an amalgamation of amusement and concern.
You forced a small smile. In truth, your head was pounding like it never had before.
As if she read your mind, she reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the painkillers and glass of water sitting, ready. She offered them to you gently.
When you had chugged the entire glass, sighed dramatically, and leaned back, she spoke.
“So are you going to tell me why I came home and found you bleeding out at my door at midnight?”
You didn’t want to, but then again you had no choice. “Got shot,” you grunted.
“Yeah, I noticed that,” she bit. “Why?”
“Mission went wrong.” You screwed your eyes shut, willing the pain away.
“I’m gonna need more information than that.”
“Didn’t wanna go to SHIELD.”
She seemed to realize that her hard attitude wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She took a deep breath and looked at you — really looked at you. The dark circles under your eyes, the sunkenness of your cheeks, the slight shaking of your hunched shoulders. The bruises covering you. Her heart clenched.
“What happened?” she asked, this time softly. It caught you off guard.
“I-” your voice broke, and you closed your mouth before a sob could escape.
“Oh, baby,” she mumbled, pulling you into her arms, careful not to strain your wound. “It’s okay.”
You hid your face in her neck, holding back more tears. Her arms wrapped around you securely, holding you so tightly you didn’t think she’d ever let go. You didn’t want her to let go.
“It’s okay,” she repeated, kissing your hair.
“I messed up,” you whimpered. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-”
“All that matters is that you’re okay,” Natasha said. “Understand? That’s all that matters.”
You couldn’t stop the hot tears from rolling down your cheeks. “But the mission…”
“The mission doesn’t matter.”
She sounded so sure of herself, you couldn’t even argue. Maybe she would talk to Fury for you. Maybe it would be okay.
White-hot guilt shot through you. Who were you to show up at her doorstep like this? To force her to care for you, and then expect her to save you from Fury’s wrath? Sure, you weren’t strangers, but this was asking too much. You shouldn’t have been making her worry. You shouldn’t have kept her up all night. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place — no. This was all your fault.
You wanted to act on your guilt, push her away and block her out, but your body wasn’t listening to your brain. Your hands refused to move, except to grip her shirt tighter. All you could manage to do was squeak out another apology. “I’m sorry.”
“Shhh,” she whispered, stroking your back. “It’s okay.”
You couldn’t help but break down sobbing. After a few minutes, Natasha reassuring you and whispering your name like a prayer, you found yourself taking a deep breath.
“I want to take you to headquarters,” she murmured into your hair.
Your breath caught in your throat.
“Just for the injuries,” she rushed to say, quick to continue rubbing your back. You sighed in relief. “It’s okay that a mission went bad. It happens to everyone.”
You shook your head against her. “No, this was, it didn’t go bad, I fucked it up.”
“That’s okay.”
“I shouldn’t have made a mistake,” you croaked, pulling away from her. Your hair stuck to your red, tear-streaked face, and she still placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. She still looked at you with nothing but care in her eyes.
“I don’t care that you made a mistake.”
Yet again, she’d caught you off guard. You couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“What was the mission?” she asked quietly, slowly moving strands of hair out of your face.
“I had to recover these stupid computer chips,” you scoffed, looking down.
“What happened to the chips?”
You pulled them out of the pocket on your pant leg and tossed them onto the coffee table. Natasha’s eyebrows flew up.
“So you didn’t mess up. You completed the mission.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. “They weren’t supposed to know I was there.”
“So what?” she laughed, genuinely laughed, and you looked up. “You still won.”
Oh. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal after all.
Her eyes softened and she brushed more hair off of your face before kissing your forehead again. “You did good.”
That sent you into another crying fit, but Natasha didn’t mind. She would happily spend the rest of her life drying your tears. She held you close to her chest, lightly scratching the base of your scalp.
You couldn’t believe how soft she was. Soft, and cozy, and you never wanted to leave her arms.
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x reader#marvel#mcu#black widow#black widow x reader#hurt/comfort#fluff#scarlett johansson#scarlett johansson x reader#scarlett x reader#scarlett
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Jealous/possessive Nat. Maybe she leaves y/n willingly for a few years on a mission which breaks y/n heart but when she finally comes back, y/n is sleeping with kate/Wanda or even better Yelana so Nat makes a point of claiming what is hers. Nat doesn't share what is hers.
If you're comfortable, make it smutty af as well please
Jealous Girl
WARNINGS: break ups, 18+ themes, jealousy, slight toxic!nat, strap-on use (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), thigh riding (reader receiving), degradation, daddy kink
WORDS: 3,108
PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, fwb Wanda Maximoff x f!reader
A/N: a lovely ask from a lovely anon, after this hopefully i will be updating my series! @daddynattt i better see you in a pink hoodie 🙄
She loved you. Loved. Loved? Love is for children. She loved you enough to let you go. Was that enough? Was letting you go enough? She was a fucking liar. She lied to herself, and to you.
It was a cold winter night in January. You and your girlfriend sat in your room in the Avengers compound, surrounded by blankets and pillows. A comfortable silence in the room, you could hear faint police sirens from afar. A light glow in the dark room came from your open window. Your hand ran through her soft red hair, her head on your lap. A blanket draped over the both of your bodies. It seemed perfect. Almost seemed perfect.
“Babe?” you hummed as a response, taking the hands that were once stroking her hair away. “Yeah? What is it Natty?” the comfortable silence growing uncomfortable by the second, “can we talk?” what? What did she mean by that? You felt your anxiety spike at those 3 words. “What do you mean? I– we're talking right now Natasha.” your words follow with a nervous laugh.
“Y/N.” her tone was rather serious. You've never heard her this serious in your entire relationship before. It scared you. Oh, how it scared you so very much. “y-yeah what is it?” she could almost hear the fear in your voice. Almost wasn't enough. Were you not enough? “I have a mission soon.” was that it? Hopefully, it was. “oh! Is that all? I thought it was something serious.” your palms get clammy, and you were quick to wipe them off with your shirt. Your lap felt lighter as she took her head off of it.
Her gaze towards you seemed so empathetic that it made you feel pathetic. She sighed, holding onto your wrists as she spoke up. “Detka the mission is over 6 months long.” you lock eyes with her. Her beautiful green eyes, the soft gaze that was there just a while ago changed to a dark one. “So..?” you ask, cocking your head to the side. “Look I'm trying to say that this can't happen between us. We.. we can't happen.” fuck. God no. Why is this happening? She loves you. She does. You've been together for 4 years, why is she doing this?
“w–why do you think that..? You've been on missions before Natasha! What's wrong this time?” did those 4 years not matter to her? Did you not matter to her? She just had to go. Didn't she know that you love her? Did she not care? Why must she do this to you? Did she not love you like how you love her? Was this relationship all a lie?
“I just think it's best if we take a break baby.” you felt tears prick your eyes, blurring your vision. You couldn't tell if you were angry or sad. “Natasha..” her grip on your wrists loosen, “Nat just get out.” she seemed surprised at your words. Did she think you'd beg for her to stay? If she didn't want you, what would begging do? She made up her mind. It's not your fault you want her to stay. “Y/N–” your gaze lowered itself onto your hands, looking everywhere but at her. “Natasha, please. Get out.” she sighed and got off the bed. “Goodnight detka.” you couldn't bring yourself to say goodbye back. The tears spilled from your burning eyes as soon as she stepped out of the room. She left you. And you couldn't do anything about it.
“You're doing so well malysh..” she coos, gripping your waist as you rode yourself against her thigh. Your moans and whimpers were heard throughout the bedroom. You were tightly holding onto her shoulders. “Wanda fuck.” your breathing labored as you were reaching an orgasm, “what is it sweetheart?” she flexed her thigh. Fucking hell. “Please. I'm so close Wands..” your juices were dripping down her thigh and onto the bedsheets.
“Let go dorogaya.. make a mess all over my thigh.” you dig your nails into her shoulders, leaving behind crescent shaped marks. “ohh my God–” you came all over her, your cum spilling onto her thigh and probably drenching the sheets as well. She chuckled, pressing her forehead to yours, “that was hot.” she admitted, watching how your breasts were pressed up against her body. “Sorry about your sheets Wands.” you say, looking down at her dampened bedsheets.
“It's okay Y/N/N, wanna stay the night?” you think on that question for a few seconds. “Sure, why not.” she kisses your cheek before laying down on the bed, pulling you down with her.
It was summer now, 6 months quickly passed by since she left you. She was still away at her mission. Sometimes you wondered why she even chose such a long mission. But eventually, you stopped wondering. She left you. End of story... Right? January soon became July, the cold breezes in the air soon became warm. Your love for her? You didn't know. She hurt you. You felt as if your heart shattered in a million pieces. Did she not care about that? She promised. Did she lie? “moya lyubov I could never hurt you like they did. I promise.”
The room's atmosphere was warm and quiet. Slight noises could be heard from the fan. It was a bit quiet outside tonight, it was dark out but you could hear birds chirping in the distance.
You sighed into her hold, nuzzling your chin against the crook of her neck. “Goodnight Wands.” she kissed your forehead, “goodnight dorogaya..” you two quickly fell into a deep slumber. You breathed softly in your sleep, and Wanda lightly snored.
January 21st was the day she broke up with you. The date tonight was July 20th. She's supposed to come home tomorrow morning. Supposed to. You didn't want anything bad to happen to her. You just didn't want to see her so soon.
Was that so bad? You were sure she didn't want anything to do with you either. So why must she come here first instead of debriefing at SHIELD? Why did you have to see her so early? She didn't love you. You were wrong all along. Were you?
You woke up the next morning being absolutely crushed by Wanda. “Wands– get off of me, I can't breathe.” she looks down at you from under her, “oops?” she said with a chuckle as she got off of you. “Oops?! Wanda? You bitch.” you giggle and shove a pillow at her face. The fun didn't last long as the both of you were called in the lounge room.
“You called?” you asked Tony, “yeah, your girlfriend is back from the mission or whatever. Thought you'd wanna know, y'know?” he said, looking up at you from his laptop screen. “My girlfriend? Who?” he raised a brow in confusion. “Red hair? Russian? A bit mean sometimes.” you laugh slightly, “ohh, yeah no. She broke up with me right before her mission.” he widened his eyes in shock. “Nobody ever tells me shit in this god damn place.”
“Y/N?” you turn to look at the familiar voice calling out your name. “oh, hey Nat.” you say before walking back to Wanda's room. “Y/N wait–” you quickly ran into her room and closed the door shut. Your heart was racing. You didn't think for one second that you'd see her after all those months, standing there and calling out your name. “Malysh? What are you doing here? Not that I'm complaining but–” you grab onto her wrists, and place her hands on your waist. “Touch me. Wanda please.” she hums, gripping your skin harshly. “What happened sweetheart?” you whine against her touch, slowly backing up to the edge of the bed.
Why did she have to come back? Was breaking up with you not enough? Did she want to hurt you more? You were so done with it. Yet you weren't. “It's Natasha..” you choked back a sob, desperately clinging onto her shoulders. “oh.. I'm sorry Y/N.” she peppers kisses onto your neck, and pushes you onto the bed. “What do you want me to do? hm?” you sigh, “mark me. Leave marks please. I–” she smirks. “wanna make her jealous? Make her mad?” you nod, clutching her wrists as she bites onto your neck, sucking on your soft sensitive spot. “Wanda..” you moan out her name and gasp softly as she brings a hand up to take off your bra. She unhooked your bra and slid it off your chest. “Just marks? Nothing else?” you nodded.
“Thanks, Wands.” you laugh, taking a look at the many marks she had left on you in the mirror. A few on your neck, your collarbone, and the upper area of your breasts. “No problem, what are friends for?” she chuckles, putting her rings back on. “Fucking?” you giggle, burying your face into her shoulder. “Just kidding Wanda, you're the best.” she smiled and kissed the top of your head.
It was a bit past midnight, and you were attempting to sneak out of your best friend's room unnoticed. But as soon as you stepped out of her room, “Natasha! Hey.. there.” she cleared her throat, her eyes fixated on your neck and your hand on the witch's doorknob. “uh..” you sighed, closing the door. “okay..” you whispered and walked past her and made your way into your bedroom.
“What the fuck was that?” Natasha muttered to herself as she was walking into her room. Did you get with someone already? Was it Wanda? Were you with Wanda? She realized her mistake. She shouldn't have left what was hers. She should feel sad, despair even, that the love of her life that she willingly chose to leave had their eyes set on someone else. But no, she felt longing, a sense of need. A drive really, a drive for claiming. Claiming what belongs to her. You. She wanted you, and she's going to get what she wants. No matter what gets in the way. You're hers, and she'll have you.
That night she went to bed, her thoughts were contaminated by you. Your beautiful face, those soft, plump lips of yours. Your hands.. the way they'd clutch onto her muscular shoulders whenever she'd have her way with you. Your neck, the one littered with sinful marks just now. The way your hips would stutter upwards when she'd tease you. Your voice, the moans, and whimpers that would sneak past your mouth. Your cheeks all flushed, bright red, when she'd whisper something in your ear.
You groaned as the sunlight cracked through the blinds. “ugh.. why is it so bright?” you sat up on your bed, rubbing your eyes. “Wait– fuck I'm late for training.” you throw off the blanket and run into the bathroom to freshen up.
“Y/N..” the sight of you made her fall in love all over again. “let's just get training over with Natasha.” you sighed. She chuckled under her breath. You were trying so hard to seem unphased, how cute. “Your position is all wrong.” she rasped, oh fuck, how her husky voice still managed to make you completely weak in the knees. “I– I can do it myself!” she briefly pauses, contemplating on whether she should let you do it on your own or step in and help. “As your mentor, I can help.” she pressed her body against your backside and brought her hand to your arm.
“You need to raise your arm up..” she gently moved your arm upwards, putting your hands in a combat position. “You didn't need to ‘help’ me Natasha.” your words came out colder than you expected, Natasha smirked. Did you expect her to be upset? “yeah well,” her hands slid down from your shoulders and down to your waist. “I wanted to, so I am.” she squeezed your waist lightly. “Nat..” you were about to give it all up at this very moment. Taking off the mask that you put up to hide the love that you still had for her.
“..Are you in love with her?” she asked, slowly backing you to the wall. You let out a shaky breath, “why should it matter to you?” she sighed, holding your wrists back with her free hand. “Do you love me?” you froze for a split second. You did love her. But were you going to tell her? What if she– “y- yes. I do love you..” but why? She hurt you. She'll do it again. You were sure of it. “I love you too. I'm so sorry detka.” she admitted, pushing you against the wall. A soft gasp escapes your mouth when your body harshly makes contact with the wall.
As much as you didn't want to admit it, the way you could tell she was packing when she pressed her crotch against the curve of your ass made arousal gush in between your legs. You flutter your eyes shut, “I'm sorry moya lyubov..” she whispered. Her slender fingers latched onto your pants and slid them off, leaving your panties on. “Tell me how much you love me Natasha.” you say, almost letting a moan out when her fingertips brush against your clothed clit. She hooked onto the hem of your underwear, slowly discarding them away.
“I love you so much. So much kotenok..” she lightly pressed her lips to your inner thigh, “so much.. I love you.” her words repeat over, and over like a chant. You almost wanted to believe her. “I know.. I know that I betrayed your trust baby but, please. Let me make it up to you.” you melted into her touch, lolling your head back. Her touch was different from Wanda's. It was gentle, but at times she would be rough. Her hands grazing against your thighs, your waist, your neck.. it sent your skin ablaze. It was heavenly, so good it was sinful. You would almost risk it all for her touch, just for one moment. She peppered light, feathery kisses up to your uncovered pussy. “Please.. Natasha please.”
“You're so beautiful.. ” she lightly bit down on your neck, “I missed you so much baby girl.” she mumbled against your burning skin. You exhaled shakily, a soft smile displayed on your face. “I missed you too Natty, s- so much..” the need for her was unbearable, you couldn't stand it, just her voice itself made you go insane. “mhm?” she slowly brought her hand in between your thighs. She chuckled when she noticed your slick inner thigh, wetness running down your legs. She dipped in a finger into your soaking cunt. Your spongey walls immediately clenched onto her finger. “Fucking hell. You're so tight detka.” she pumped her finger in and out before sneaking in a second finger. You squeak out a moan, your hands clutching at her back, your arms draped over her shoulders. “mmn..” she brought her lips to yours, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. You whine against her lips, her fingers still moving inside of you.
You couldn't tell if you wanted her to stop or needed her to keep going. She got back up and pinned you against the wall once more. “Please what? do you want daddy to fuck you?” a slutty whimper escapes your mouth when you feel her hot breath against your skin. “Please.. daddy I need you.” she hums, tracing two fingers down your waist in a swift motion. Your hips stuttered upwards at her teasing, “God, you're dripping.. is this all for me?” you nod vigorously, hoping that'll answer her question. She pinched at your thigh, “who is it all for slut?” she asked again, “y–you! it's all for you daddy. please.” she smirked. “Look at me.” you turned around to face her. She grabbed your thighs, hoisted them around her waist, and pushed your back onto the wall.
She loved you enough to come back. She loved you enough to do this. Right? Oh, how she loathed anyone that would look your way. You were hers. But was she yours? You've never thought of it that way. You threw your head back against the wall in pleasure. Whatever she was to you didn't matter in this moment. A moment of pure bliss, whatever lies and deceits that were happening didn't matter.
“Baby let me fuck you properly..” she muttered against your lips, her hands clawing at your covered chest. “Please.. I need you.” she smiled and unbuckled her belt, taking out her faux cock. “Yeah? How bad kotenok?” you buck your hips onto the tip of her dick, wanting nothing more than her to be fully inside of you, “please.. please daddy I need to so badly.” you begged. Pathetic. That's what you were. Begging for the woman that didn't want you. She didn't want you, she wanted your body. Isn't that it? She didn't give you a proper apology, she just did what she always does. Fuck her mistakes away. She thought you'd forget about all her problems, the arguments just by touching you. But you remembered. You just couldn't leave her, she was everything to you. You loved her, but you wished you didn't.
She aligned the tip of the strap-on with your entrance and pushed a few inches into you. Eliciting lewd, slutty moans out of your mouth, “oh fuck daddy!” your nails dug into her back, and you were sure you left red marks on her skin. She grunted as she shoved completely into you, “take it, show daddy how much of a whore you are for her.” she said, thrusting in and out of your throbbing cunt. “Natasha.. oh my God–” you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as she fucked harder into you.
She loved you. You loved her. She– she loves you as much as you love her. Right? You wanted to believe that with all your heart. “Fuck- daddy ’m gonna cum!” you slur as she slammed into you. “Do it. Cum all over my cock detka, show me who you belong to.” with her words you did as told. You bit down on your lower lip as you came onto the silicone dick. “mmh– fuck- fuck Natasha!” her name repeatedly being moaned out of your mouth.
“I love you so much.. you did so well baby.” she kissed the side of your face, taking her hand up to your cheek to flick away your tears. “I love you too Natty..” you mumbled out breathlessly.
You loved her. She loved you. That's why she told you. “I love you.” those three words. She meant it. Right?
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#natasha romanoff#natasha romanov#natasha marvel#wanda maximoff x reader
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Recommendations #2 💌
Well hello again. Just in case you make your way through my first list, here's some more reading material for you 😉
I went digging to find some past gems - these lists are also partly selfish so I can go back and re-read them easily.
💖 Thank you to all of these creators for all the writing you've shared with us. I very much appreciate all of you! 💖
And to all you readers out there, I hope you enjoy and send some love to all of these beautiful writers 🥰
If you haven't already, you can check out my first Recommendation List - Here ❤️🔥 make sure they get all of the love too
xo
Caught In The Fire by @dreamwritesimagines
Pairing: Mobster! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: In a city ruled by gangsters, nothing is ever simple.
Delicate Edges by @wkemeup
Pairing: Bucky x reader (Biker!AU)
Summary: Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.
Sunrise by @wkemeup
Parings: Bucky x Reader (veteran!bucky x librarian!reader)
Summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is discharged from active duty and sent back to civilian life. Left with a storm of unchecked guilt, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU)
In the Embers by @foreverindreamlandd
Pairing: Firefighter!Bucky x Fem!Plus Size!Adopted Rogers!Reader
Summary: It’s been years since you’ve been home, and you didn’t expect it to be in the aftermath of your life falling apart. Though much has changed over time, one thing has stayed the same: Bucky Barnes is still the boy next door, and there’s no running from him now.
Awake My Soul by @foreverindreamlandd
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: It's been five years since the zombies started invading, and despite everything you've been through, you've survived up until this point. And now you must survive your most dangerous challenge yet...the grumpy, untrusting, captivating Bucky Barnes.
Check out their Bucky masterlist 😍 -> Here
Beneath the Milky Twilight by @bucksangel
Pairing: Ceo!Bucky Barnes x Personal Assistant!Reader (Sugarbaby!AU)
Summary: Being Mr. Barnes’ personal assistant has been tough, balancing a full time job while taking care of your younger brothers has you running yourself thin. Then, things take a sharp turn after a dinner with your boss when you disclose your financial situation.
‘The Road Goes Ever On and On’ by @rocketrhap3000
Pairings & Characters: Bucky Barnes x singlemom!reader, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson (eventually), and OC three year old Jasper :)
Summary: Life as a single mother of a three year old certainly has its struggles. But when a sweet stranger makes his way into you and your little boy’s life, a one of a kind connection sparks.
Yours, Mine, Ours by @coffeecatsandcandles
Pairing: singledad!Bucky Barnes x singlemom!pediatrician!Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes has been raising his girls, Rebecca and Winnie, for the last two years. He'd lost all hope of falling in love again until he met you, a pediatrician with two children of your own- Elliot and Willow. He falls in love and he falls hard, but the challenges of being single parents still weigh on you both at times. Luckily, you'll always have each other.
Also you need to go read their entire Masterlist
Mob!Bucky x Fairy Masterlist by @kinanabinks
Pairing: 18+ | Mob!Bucky x Best Friend!Reader
the adventures of bucky and his little fairy.
Appointments by @noctumbra (prev buckycuddlebuddy)
Pairing: tfatws!bucky barnes x reader
Summary: in which bucky gets a fuck buddy and rediscovers his body’s needs and himself in the twenty-first century.
We Fell in Love in October by @noctumbra (prev buckycuddlebuddy)
Pairing: farmer!bucky barnes x reader
Summary: in which october brings love for bucky with his favorite season surrounding him.
As It Was, Baby (AO3) by @nexusnyx
Pairing: Neighbor Bucky x Reader
Summary: Living right across from James Barnes was certainly an experience, but a much different one than most people expect. A neighbour who is respectful, funny and brings you food every now and then is any girl's dream. Too bad you're only his neighbour and nothing else. Or, at least, that's what you thought.
One stormy night changes everything and discovering that you mean more to the Sargent than you expected has life-altering consequences.
Bring Me to Life by @nameless-ken
Pairing: Dad!Bucky x reader
Summary: Bucky is a struggling single father trying to take care of his daughter when a stranger welcomes them into her home and brings a gentle love back into their life.
Masterlist for nameless-ken -> Here
Unexpected by @nameless-ken
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Summary: Our mutual friend dropped out of this trip at the last minute, so hi I guess we’re spending the next two weeks together.
The Bienville by @indyluckycharlie
Pairing: Modern AU Bucky Barnes x Reader
(Island/CEO!AU)
Summary: Bucky is the young CEO of his family’s publishing house. A year into the role and working his ass off, he’s finally taking a much needed vacation (upon the advice of his well-meaning family and friends).
Solo and feeling a little lost, Bucky finds himself getting a little attached to the front desk receptionist, a local who grew up on the islands and dreams of bigger things.
All You Need by @barnesafterglow
Pairing: publisher!bucky x author!reader
Summary: just after finishing college and your first novel, you meet bucky barnes - a friend of a friend, a publisher, and hopefully something more
No Day But Today by @buckysfaveplum
Pairing: bucky barnes x artist!female reader
Summary: bucky finds himself enamored with the girl upstairs who paints on the fire escape.
(loosely inspired by mimi and roger from rent)
Brotherhood and Bullets Masterlist by @rookthorne
Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
The 107th motorcycle club has been the protector of their collective hometown for many, many years - shouldering all the bloodshed and loss that came with it. Little did you know, you'd become the President's own twisted version of an angel on his shoulder; the tips of your angelic wings tinged red by your own demons.
Check out rookthorne's full masterlist -> Here
The Old Man's Grocery Order (AO3) by yarnforbrains
Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Summary: The grocery order was the same every week, and every week it came with the same instructions: Don’t ring the bell. Leave it and go.
It wasn’t the most polite message, but that’s about what you expected from someone with a grocery list like this...You figured it was an older man.
Our Home to Heal by @subwaysurf45
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: working at the VA, you’ve found your place. helping people in the sobriety unit as well as cooking for the food bank, the VA had everything for you. Bucky Barnes has a not-so-good first impression but after dealing with a dark recent past he finds you to help him heal.
Snow by @delaber
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.
Finding Home by @jobean12-blog
Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader (Animal Rescue AU)
Summary: You meet Bucky while he’s out walking Alpine in the city. It’s love at first sight and to make it even better he just opened up an Animal Rescue, Shelter to Solider. But will his past stand in the way of him finally finding his home.
Stud and Smartie Universe by @navybrat817
Pairing: Mechanic Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (Stud and Smartie)
AU Summary: You're crazy about your handsome roommate. Luckily, he feels the same way about you.
Your Hands Have Made Some Good Mistakes by @thenhewaswrongaboutme
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky has to spend six months locked up with a stranger. His teammates went on an international press tour and left him behind. They hired someone to supervise him, per the conditions of his pardon— a roommate, they said. A roommate?
Happy New Year
and Happy Reading!
(Dividers by saradika)
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criminal.
you met a woman from a penpal website and began to form a relationship with her, until you suddenly got comfortable with her and began to share fantasies that she had also dreamt of.
pairings | prisoner!dark!natasha x fem!reader
warnings | 18+ MINORS DNI! online talking, prisoner!natasha, dirty talking (online), rough sex on the couch, strap-on (used), pet names, dark!natasha, and daddy kink.
word count | 3.5k
notes | this was anon requested and i hope this satisfies you, nonnon! i’m so sorry if it’s too late :( i am doing my best to get all of your requests. enjoy though!
navigation
When I heard of this website called Pen Pal from my friends, I was sketched up. I wasn’t the type of person who would message someone from the internet–let alone a stranger who could break into your house if they had your address. You can’t trust the internet these days. The only reason why I know this website is because of the lack of relationships that I have never gone through in my life. Although I did have a few crushes, they liked me back, but eventually, it turned into nothing like a cloud of dust. Did I want to be in a relationship? Sure, sometimes.
Okay maybe.
Anyway, I was scanning through the website and saw some of the inmates who seemed desperate as I was. These people, specifically women, wouldn’t pass my age. That didn’t matter though, I’d still like anyone even though they weren’t my age. No one caught my interest, especially with their boring information about themselves. Looking for a babe, I want someone who could send me nudes, if you got tits then ur good. This is the information that I don’t need, they are too forward. If you want to speak eloquently about railing someone, you might as well do it in the second stage of dating.
Until I see a profile that did catch my interest. Natasha Romanoff, 36 years old. “I like making new friends.”
She’s a real eye-catcher.
And, she’s not your typical American, she looked too European to be American. Perhaps she was Russian and possibly was born from there, unless I may have assumed it in a wrong way. I decided to click on her profile and gave her a small greeting message.
Me: hey! :D
I didn’t wait much for her reply since I had Calculus homework that I had to do, so I grabbed my pencil and went back to studying. It was almost midnight when she replied, and I was tireless when I received her message.
NatsRomanoff: Hey there :) what suddenly brings you here?
What suddenly brings you here, I thought as I read that message. I could say: nothing much, I just want to say you’re really pretty or I want you to lick my neck with your devilish tongue so that I could be compelled to you. Although the second option was too forward, too soon. I decided to type something else.
Me: my friends told me about this website, idk why. i think it’s because they think i’m pretty lonely, plus it’s also fun. as they said.
NatsRomanoff: Hahaha, that seems cute. I hope the people here doesn’t scare you off unless you’re only talking to one person.
Me: i only plan to talk to one person and hopefully that’s you
NatsRomanoff: You must be adorable, what’s your name?
Should I give her a piece of information about myself? Would it be risky enough to say my name and let her rattle all over me? Or would I not let her in and continue on with my basic life? Yes, basic. My life in the outside world isn’t as fun as it seems. I go to school, learn a few things, have my piano lessons, and come back home with a gaunt look on my face that wasn’t too inviting. Go on, tell her! My head won’t stop telling me to do so, my fingers are on the keyboard as I try to think of any other names that I would use.
Me: Y/N. you?
NatsRomanoff: Pretty name :) Natasha, even though you can see that in my bio.
Me: sorry. i was trying to be formal lol
NatsRomanoff: What’s your sexuality? I don’t want to assume that you’re a girl or a boy, or neither.
Me: i’m a girl!
NatsRomanoff: Cute :) so can I call you a pretty girl then?
I try my hardest not to form a smile or a significant sparkling feeling inside of me as I know that I could fall for someone on the internet in less than a month. But heck, I blushed hard.
Me: yes, why not haha
NatsRomanoff: :)) how old are you, pretty girl?
Me: I’m nineteen, almost twenty in two months!
NatsRomanoff: That’s cute, really adorable I’m gonna be honest. You don’t mind talking to someone older, yeah?
I put my laptop away for a short minute and thought long and hard about our age difference. We were seventeen years apart, she’s almost two decades older than me and I have this sort of romanticization of being with older people. They bring so much comfort to you that you ought to believe that they will always protect you and be more mature than you are, so that’s probably the reason why I love being in that type of situation in the first place. Though, I could never be in one. My parents would kill me.
But they aren’t here, so…
Me: not at all. :)
NatsRomanoff: I’d ask if you could send me a photo of you, but you can’t do that here.
Me: Well, when do you get out of prison?
NatsRomanoff: Two years, pretty girl. Why? Care to visit a poor old woman like me? :)
Me: aren’t we friends?
NatsRomanoff: Of course, we are. I’d like to see you someday, hoping you wouldn’t run off.
Me: why would you say that? lol
NatsRomanoff: Aren’t you scared that I’m some old woman who is a prisoner? You don’t know my crimes.
Me: do you want to tell them to me?
NatsRomanoff: I’d keep it a secret for now :) but, I’d like to see you someday. Anyway, I have to go. Can I talk to you again tomorrow? Pretty girl? :(
The real deal question was: why wasn’t I scared? Why was I willing enough to give myself to a prisoner? I wouldn’t know what she has done, I wouldn’t know anything about her. But she seemed so kind enough that she doesn’t give me the peevish and creepy vibes that I’d always feel when it comes to other people–especially her age. I bit my inner cheek and thought about what to type with her calling me a pretty girl. Referring to me as one even though I hardly believe in such a name like that.
Me: of course, tasha! goodnight :)
NatsRomanoff: Goodnight, pretty girl.
—
The next few days went pretty smoothly and ambling. It felt like I was in this word heaven as I called it whenever I would be talking to Natasha. Perhaps paradise would be a fitting term for our messages. My friends knew about Natasha, they even told me to flirt a little. But I gave them a hint that I wasn’t ready for anything like that, knowing what they were trying to tell me. Natasha knew a few facts about me that I told her a few days ago. And she gave me small pieces of information about her too, which made me admire her more. Before she got arrested, she was working at a bar and would spend her quality time at the library, telling me that she had a spot that is now taken by everyone else. I told her that I also like reading and that’s how we mostly connect; we send each other book recommendations. Apparently, she likes The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, she said the book reminded me of her–even though that was a little confusing on why. I told her about the book called The Price of Salt because of my age difference with Natasha. She said she had read that one, and we both laughed about it.
NatsRomanoff: You seem like such a smart girl for your age :) What school are you going to?
I read her message, again and again, thinking if I should tell her what school I’m attending. My friends told me not to give any information that would lead to my address, but it’s Natasha, right? She wouldn’t hurt me, even though I’d only known her for five days. Plus, she constantly reminds me that I don’t have to say anything that would offend me.
Me: columbia University, i have a scholarship. :)
NatsRomanoff: You must be academically inclined then :) Love smart girls like you.
Me: lol what does that mean?
NatsRomanoff: I’m sure you know what I’m trying to say.
No, I don’t know what she’s trying to imply–does that make me feel stupid?
Me: anyway, i have to do some reading before i go to bed :(
NatsRomanoff: Aw, come on :( I want to talk to you some more, stay here baby.
I almost threw my laptop in the air as I read that word. Baby, I thought with a whimsical smile on my face. She’s getting into me. I imagine her being in my bed right at this moment, her hand on my knee as she tells me so many stories about herself before her life in prison. Touch me, Natasha. Put your hand on my core, massage it and tell me how much I can be yours. Whisper into my ear and tell me that I’m the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, that you have to eat. That lewd thought quickly went away when I received another message from her.
NatsRomanoff: Can I call you baby?
Me: of course, you can.
NatsRomanoff: Good. I love us being friends, I haven’t talked to anyone like this in such a long time. I understand if you’re tired, I’ll message you soon. Goodnight, baby girl :)
—
Days have turned into weeks, weeks have turned into months, and I’ve caught myself falling in love with Natasha Romanoff, not knowing her criminal record or her basic life. Just a small fact about herself that she rarely tells me since she stated that she’s more interested in my life than hers. I didn’t mind, it’s not like I could ask her again, but it did get me wondering why on earth she wasn’t telling me in the first place?
I was lying down on my couch with a book sprawled all over my face, just like how I’d be in bed whenever I think about Natasha. We’ve said some dirty text to each other, but not in a way that we tell our fantasies to one another. I like to imagine a lot, it’s like I make them into my own little world and I drag her through it–let her know what I like and don’t like. I’ve never told anyone about my fantasy, nor hers. I guess we were practically the same people.
NatsRomanoff: I have something to tell you, but promise you won’t freak out.
Why would I freak out? Is she going to say something intense that would scare me off? There’s nothing that could scare me off when it’s only from her, or maybe that’s how submissive and giving I am.
Me: shoot.
NatsRomanoff: I have this fantasy of breaking into your house and watching you sleep. If not asleep, then you’d be standing there with a frightened look on your face. I would touch you without your consent and quiet you down since you’re a bad kitty. Is it okay if I say I want to touch you without your permission? How about if I slip my fingers inside of you without your permission? Would you still allow me? Just tell me to back off, I obviously won’t do anything if you say no. Think of it as a kink.
I felt myself beginning to get wet as I read through the whole message from her. She makes my body tremble with the need for her touch, how much I crave for her fingers or her tongue to lather up all over my skin. My face began to heat up like a kettle, my toes were curling against the sheets, and my hands were sweating as well as my forehead. I wanted what she wanted, I fantasized about it long before she did. Unless she has done it first, I wouldn’t really care. The fact that we share the same thought probably meant how much we are connected. I typed fast and sent it, moaning quietly with the raging thought of her breaking into my house with a threatening look on her face.
Me: that’s really hot, tash…
NatsRomanoff: Do you want that to happen, little girl?
Call me that again, call me your little girl, Natasha. I promise that I can be good to you, I’ll suck your thumb for you and kiss your neck, I’ll let you open me up and take me until I’m bursting into tears, you only know how to make my world shatter. You know.
Me: yes.
NatsRomanoff: Call me Daddy, baby.
Me: Daddy.
NatsRomanoff: You love Daddy?
Me: yes.
NatsRomanoff: I have a strap-on in my cell, did you know that? Before you, I’d fuck girls with it. And now whenever I see that toy, I just want to use it on you so badly. I bet your pussy is tight, are you a virgin?
To her disappointment, I wasn’t. I’ve had sex with a girl twice, but it wasn’t as good as I thought it would be. Losing your virginity should be special, and it wasn’t. As much as I want to say it felt nice, it’s not as good as I thought it would be. Or maybe, I was expecting an older person willing to take me instead. Could that be Natasha when she comes out in two years? I can’t wait any longer, I could feel my legs opening up for her.
Me: i’ve had sex before :( is that okay with you?
NatsRomanoff: That’s okay baby. I’m a little disappointed that you’ve had sex, but it’s alright. Promise me no one else will touch your pussy except me. Promise me.
Me: i promise.
NatsRomanoff: I love you, little girl. Can’t wait to see you.
That was her final message before she went offline, and it made my eyes quirk in confusion. Can’t wait to see you. Was there a possible chance that she escaped from prison and broke into my home, fulfilling our fantasies of one another? Couldn’t be true, she wouldn’t do such a thing.
I decided to close my laptop and turned off my lamp, my body shifting against the mattress while I had my legs pressed hard against each other–shamefully trying to get some friction that would make me think of her lewdly once more as my nipples started to perk with the chill thought.
—
I tried texting Natasha over and over again for a whole week, but she never responded. It took me time to realize that maybe she has met someone else who was willing to give themselves to her, to be much more open when it comes to sex. Was it because I was not a virgin? Did she shame me for that? Or maybe, just maybe, she has escaped prison and is finding my location?
Stupid, stupid thoughts. She wouldn’t know my location, but I’ve given her a hint now since I went to Columbia University. It’s not that I was frightened, maybe a little, but it was because I don’t know anything much about her that she’s capable enough to hurt me.
I tried surpassing the thought and went back home soundly with my keys jangling on my bag, it was attached to the metal zipper. Except that, the door was unlocked, which gave me a thought of someone breaking in. Could it be Natasha? Was she fulfilling the fantasies that we’ve created together? I shook my head and walked to the apartment–getting a different feeling from the atmosphere. Everything seemed normal, perhaps I might’ve forgotten to lock my home. I dropped my schoolbag on the ground and removed my jacket, the hair on my skin getting sensitive because of the cold mystic air from the outside of my window. I turned around and almost stumbled on the couch when suddenly I saw a figure who was standing in front of me, I didn’t know who it was.
“What the fuck?!” I exclaimed, stepping away from the redhead woman–who’s honestly very daunting–as I tried to find a piece of glass or any object that would be my self-defense. Instead, she gives me an evil smirk and wraps her free arm around my neck, pulling me close to her until I realize who this person was.
This was, in fact, Natasha Romanoff. She has escaped prison.
I didn’t even give her my address.
“Shh,” she coos over and over again, cupping my face tightly. I do admit I was trying to free myself from her, but she was so strong. “You’re so beautiful in real life, and so tiny. C’mere, don’t be scared. It’s me, Natasha, why are you trying to fret me?”
“L-Let me go!” I said, kicking off my feet.
“Shh, stop baby stop…”
“No!” I screamed kicking my feet again, my hands trying to push her chest. But God forbid, she was undeniably strong. Her arms were wrapped around my torso like it was a life sentence, I kept screaming until I felt her hand smack against my left cheek–making me whimper aloud.
“If you scream again,” she breathes heavily and nips on my earlobe so that I could feel her warm breath–my core is beginning to pool with wetness. “I will cut your tongue out. You better stay fucking quiet.”
She never let go of my body and instead, kissed me hard on the lips. It felt consensual since I let her do it, and I almost melted from the kiss that I wasn’t expecting from her. Her mouth felt warm and cooled my lips, and I realized how we were both famished for our lips to touch. I never thought about it happening this way, though it felt romantic and incredibly arousing as she kisses my lips hard and passionate. I was desperate for her not to pull away, but she did with a pant.
“Gonna fulfill that fantasy we both wanted,” she whispers with a low grunt, pushing me to the couch while unbuckling her belt. “I have my fat cock with me, and I know how much you’re going to like it. So better yet open your legs and show me that pretty pussy of yours.”
I did not waste time removing my pants and snapping my legs together as the air hit my wet cunt. She sees the action and furrows her eyebrows, her hands in between my knees as she pushes them away, departing if you have a deeper term. Her eyes were so dark that you couldn’t see much green in them and her mouth was foaming when my bare cunt was shown, my clit beating hard.
“Gonna give yourself to me, m’kay? Gonna fucking ruin this hole until you’re mine. In fact, I’ll have to hurt you if you disobey me. Might as well break your legs so that you could never run off from me, understood?”
“But–”
A sharp slap made contact with my inner thigh as I gasped out in pain, mostly pleasure. She watches my lips being bitten by me and almost wanted her dildo pressed against my mouth, slithering herself in until she fucks my mouth as if it was the gaping hole of my vagina. I was ready–so ready–to submit myself to her, to make her smack me until I bled. I wanted her to do everything she wanted, let alone if she had to take me in the ass. I stare at her and notice how hungry she was for my pussy, please just fuck me.
She pulls down her pants and I see a dark purple dildo that looked insanely big for my preferred size. I looked at her with horror but she was smiling down at me, meaningless to say I have no way out. She brings the tip to my entrance and thrusts inside of me with one go, my mouth screaming in pain and pleasure. In an instant, my hand was around her neck and I felt her mouth kissing mine again–though this one was a sloppier one.
“Fuck,” she murmurs more to herself, enjoying the sight of her cock fully inside of my cunt. “Look at you, taking a prisoner’s dick. Ya like that, don’t you baby? Want me to fuck you on this couch?”
I nodded.
She snaps her hips into me, making the couch squeak with how forceful it was. I was moaning with each thrust, my chest burning up at how fast the pace was going–I couldn’t take it, she was so big. Yet, I didn’t care. I wanted her to do this to me, I wanted her to take me until I’ve become such a slut for her that everyone would know who I belonged to. She buries her face into the crook of my neck as I hear her let out a whiny moan.
“Oh, baby! Mmph, you fucking feel so good…” she pushes my hair away from my face to take a better look at me, and she chuckles. Fucking chuckles. “You are a slut, aren’t you? Tell me you’re my whore baby, come on–tell Daddy.”
“I-I’m–” my breath hitches as I felt my breasts bouncing up and down with the speed of her shallow thrusts. I’ve grown wetter than I imagined. “I’m your whore, Daddy…”
“Daddy is crazy ‘bout you,” she sniffs into my neck heavily that I practically heard it. “Gonna make this pussy mine. I’ll make sure of it.”
this was insanely hot for me i’m sorry
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff fanfic#dark natasha#black widow x reader#black widow x you#natasha romanoff fic#prisoner!natasha#a's oneshots!
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