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a-spes · 3 months

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| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS - Chapter one (4,382 words).

| Summary - you rob the wrong person and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings - Minors DNI, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, just fluff for the moment, slight angst (if you squint), mentions of sex.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

Your eyes meet their reflection in the mirror, looking for the slightest detail that isn’t right but, if you were seeking for imperfections, you are unable to find any.

Everything was perfect, and even you were struggling to recognize your face, you would have probably fallen into your own trap and that thought satisfies you. It took you several hours locked up in that dingy room to achieve this result, but you have no regrets as you are eventually able to look at your disguise.

No one would have guessed that you were the one hiding behind that mask that changed every feature of your face.

No one knows you enough to be able to notice the smallest details in your attitude that were giving hints about your true identity. You were sure that no one would notice the way you are moving your head when being disturbed by something or your hand constantly running in the skin of your hands. There are a lot of small habits you tried to suppress, but it was in vain, every of your persona inevitably ended up having a part of you in them.

Despite the dust covering the mirror, you can admire every feature of who you are going to be tonight: Lydia Golvorezova. She looks like an angel and it’s not only because her hair is so blonde that it looks white or because of her porcelain skin and innocent eyes that makes her look like a doll, but mainly because she is stunning. There is something unreal in her beauty that gives the impression that she couldn’t possibly be human.

This name was never yours, but it fits perfectly the person you could see in the mirror right now. It was perfect to embody the innocence and naivety you were reading in her eyes, it was perfect to give the feeling of power and fragility at the same time.

The way you have done your makeup only adds to the effect. In appearance, it is something really simple, but the truth is that it took you hours to get that result as you wanted to look as perfect and young as possible.

It is not that you are old, only being an adult for a few years now, but you figured out that the younger you look, the easier things are. Most of the people you are going to meet tonight have a preference for girls that haven't been broken by life yet, for the ones that haven't harsh features accompanied by a cold gaze: they like what is easy to manipulate.

They are desperate to feel powerful and it’s becoming pitiful, even ridiculous.

When you entered the toilets of the gas station, hours ago, nobody paid attention to you because you were blending in perfectly with your surroundings. It is that you are not as interesting as Lydia Golvorezova, nor as rich. No one ever notices the young girl with stained clothes, they even avoid her gaze at all cost, scared she would ask for money — if only they knew that she is the same person than the one they can’t take their eyes off now.

If you’ve arrived discreetly, you can’t say the same thing when you leave the room. You could feel the gaze of the few customers that were here on your back, but the worst is probably the cashier’s one. You have to clear your throat as a reminder that you are waiting so that her gaze would stop wandering for a little too long where it shouldn’t be, even for a brief moment.

While she is scanning your articles with obvious embarrassment, you can’t help but smile. You love the way she avoids your gaze, the way her cheeks are flushed and how her voice is only a whisper when she tells you how much you owe. The poor thing probably fears that you would snap at her for such an offense, but honestly you were just enjoying the situation.

You love it when they fall that easily in the trap you set for them.

Tonight, to match your makeup, you decided to wear a black dress that you bought just for the event. Your back is bare and it reveals enough of your chest to catch the attention without being vulgar: it’s right at the frontier between what’s elegant and what’s indecent, and that’s why it’s the perfect choice.

You wish you could keep it, but even the money you’re stealing isn’t enough for you to afford such things: you need it to buy things that are essential to your life, and no matter how pretty you're in that dress, you could survive without it.

Again, the story between the luxurious dress you choose and you is going to be nothing more than a one night thing. It will be returned tomorrow, as soon as the store opens — you didn’t even take the price tag off. But you’re hopeful that, one day, you will be able to purchase that kind of clothes for real, that you will be one of those people that shop without looking at the prices before they pay.

It always takes you so much time to prepare yourself because everything needs to be perfect. When your life is at stake, paying attention to every detail is the key, you can’t take the risk to be recognized, no one should be able to see behind the mask you decide to wear.

So, when you get the confirmation that you’ve made the right choices, it is always a deep relief. You tried to gather as much information as you can on tonight's event and the people that are supposed to come, but in the end there is always a lot left to chance. You can spend as much time as you want preparing yourself for what’s coming, it’s impossible to predict everything.

You are not from the same world as them, you’re just pretending to be, and it doesn’t matter how many times you did it with success, you'll always be an outsider. There are so many rules that you don’t know that something as insignificant as a word or a look could be enough to give your identity away.

Hopefully, for the moment everything seems to go fine, the dress you choose was perfect for this evening, at the frontier between elegant and indecent, and no one seems to notice the intruder.

A driver left you in front of the expensive hotel that hosts the event, and you barely had time to unbuckle your belt that a butler was already opening the door for you, helping you to get out of the car. You have to fight the urge to refuse the hand he is holding out to you, and take it with a smile on your face instead. You constantly need to remind yourself about where your place is tonight: at the top of the pyramid, among the ones that do nothing by themselves.

For someone like you, someone that has been on their own for most of their life, it’s weird to be assisted to this extent, and you hate it as much as the first time. This man complies to every of your demands because he fears you, and not because he wants to, let alone because he's paid for it — his salary probably not being enough for the evening he’s going to have.

If only he knew your reality is closer to his than it’s from theirs, you thought as he walked you toward the entrance, but you can't share it with him. You have to play along, to pretend that you’re Lydia Golvorezova perfectly if you don’t want to ruin your plans, even if it includes being rude with a man for whom you have compassion.

Tonight, the butler didn’t get anything from you except a ridiculous penny that you gave him as if he should be grateful for it, as if this action was a symbol of infinite kindness — which he is going to do, thanking you a lot of time for that. The whole time, not a word has been exchanged, you would rather keep your voice for the ones that are worth the effort.

Just like the man that caught your eyes the moment you entered the luxurious hall, Clint Barton. You read an article about him a few days ago, he works as a bodyguard for heads of major companies, despite what one might think, his position makes him an influential and wealthy man, everything you are looking for tonight, so you didn’t hesitate much before making your way toward him.

“Excuse me?” you asked, clearing your throat to get his attention, and you felt the glance of every man he was previously talking with on you, the sudden attention made you feel uncomfortable. “May I?” you added, accompanying your words by a small gesture of the hand toward the glasses of champagne he was standing in front of, feigning being so interested by those.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he said, immediately stepping aside so you could access the table. “I am sorry for that, miss .. ?” he added and you can’t help but grin at his attempt to learn your name - it was almost too easy.

You barely exchanged a few words, nothing out of the ordinary, but he was already crushing himself to fulfill your desires, already eager for more, and the way he is gazing at you leaves no doubts on the thoughts in his mind, something too indecent for a place like that one.

“Golvorezova, and you?” you replied, the false name slipping easily out of your mouth as you slip nimbly between him and the men he was previously talking to.

It is hard to not smile, to pretend that you didn't notice the way they are glancing at you, with anger and frustration, because you’ve just ruined their only chance to talk to him, too bad that you don’t care. Tonight, Barton is yours.

You don’t care more about the glasses of champagne than you do about these guys, it was just a way to get what you want. You’ve been fond of alcohol, you’ve seen how it changes people’s minds, taking control of their thoughts and bodies, and you would rather continue to use it to your advantage than becoming a victim of it. Even a sip of alcohol could be dangerous, and you would be stupid to drink while working, so you’re just pretending to enjoy the champagne.

“Barton,” he replied briefly, holding his hand out to you for you to shake - which you did with a faint smile on your lips.

“So, do you already know what you're going to bid on?” you asked, trying to pursue the conversation.

You both glance around for a few seconds, not a word is exchanged, just a shrug that underlines his boredom. Despite this party being marked as a charity event, most of the guests are here for other reasons: make an appearance, meet future associates, talk about business, show the world how rich and powerful they are, … there are many reasons for their presence, but none of them is disinterested. His answer is proof that he doesn't care about what’s for sale, maybe he doesn’t even know for whom the benefits are. He will drop an outrageous amount of money, just to pretend he did something good to help those people when he is the cause of their pain, people like you getting their lives destroyed by people like him.

Tonight isn’t about charity, it's about power and influence. That’s why you’re always tense when attending those events, the stakes are bigger than they are for a private party, and so are the risks. Tonight, the whole world has its eyes on what’s happening in that hotel. If you make a mistake, everyone will know, because no one escapes the spotlight tonight, and you're no exception to the rule.

“But, I think I’ve just found the most precious prize,” he said as his gaze came back to you, his smirk letting no doubt about the true meaning behind his words. Maybe if he was a bit more observant he would've noticed how your grip tightens on your glass.

You can’t help but smile, a sign he is going to misinterpret for sure, because behind it, it’s your disgust that’s hidden. He is probably something like twice your age, at least, and doesn’t seem to be interested in anything other than your body.

But the money is worth every sacrifice.

You are about to give him the reply he probably waits to hear, but you are cut before you can even say one word. It is a feminine voice whose tone makes your blood run cold, and even though her words aren’t addressed to you, you feel like you’re the one that did something wrong.

“Does Laura know about your plans?” she asked, and from the way he glanced at her, you guess that she doesn’t.

You felt the woman’s hand on your shoulder before you could see her face. It is only when he left that she took his place, allowing you to meet her gaze. She is stunning, and contrary on you, she wasn’t just playing to be pretty, she truly was.

“Men…,” she sighed as she looked at him walking away, but the truth is that he doesn’t really leave, you can still feel his gaze on you, even from the other side of the room. “I hope he didn't bother you? He can be a bit… inconsiderate sometimes, especially with the pretty girls,” she added, and you realize she is looking you up and down, her glance wandering a bit longer at the same places than the man’s one earlier.

She is not better than him, you thought, maybe a few years younger than he is, but that’s all, they’re from the same world, you have to remind yourself when you realize you too were observing her for a bit too long.

On the outside, you’re still smiling, letting nothing appear on what’s disturbing your mind, but somehow having the feeling that she knows, and you only shake your head, letting her know that everything is fine.

“I don't think I’ve ever seen you …,” she added once she understood you wouldn't say anything, not letting you a chance to find an excuse to slip through her fingers.

Despite appearances, and how friendly the conversation seems to be, the atmosphere is tense between the two of you, it’s like a game has started ; which one is gonna find the other’s secret first? And she never loses a game.

If she interrupted your conversation with Barton, it wasn’t to help you, but him. She doesn't care about his wife, Clint can cheat on her if he wants, it's none of her business as long as his problem doesn’t impact his work, and you look exactly like that kind of problem.

If there is something she cares about, it’s the raptors that get a little too close to her associates, especially the ones that would easily give off information about her business, and Clint may be good at his job, but he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.

She doesn't trust you, and one glance was enough for her to get to that statement. If it wasn’t for Clint, she wouldn’t even have talked to you, but she knows how naive he can be sometimes - and maybe this conversation will help her to point out the thing that bothers her about you, something she hasn’t figured out yet.

“It’s probably because it’s my first in the United States,” you replied, your voice dripping with false sympathy.

You don’t like the woman either, but at least you are hiding your thoughts, something she doesn’t even try to do. You are smiling at her, the expression on your face being so innocent that she questions her instincts, you don’t even seem to catch the threats behind her actions or the true meaning of her words — how someone that oblivious ended up attending such an event? Something she wouldn’t have thought if she was able to see the rage hidden behind your smile, the frustration, the hatred that is slowly growing, because every second spent with her reduces your chances of success.

She sent Barton away, but most importantly, she doesn’t seem to believe everything you say as he would have, and the way she hummed after your last answer gave you a feeling of danger, something is telling you to give up the mission, but you don’t.

“I don’t think I know you either,” you replied, the words slipping from your mouth almost on their own. The conversation probably could have ended up here, if only you hadn't been so curious, if you didn’t genuinely want to learn more about the woman.

“Romanoff,” she eventually said, she seems about to add something else but hesitate for a few seconds before talking, deciding to keep the rough comment she was about to make for herself, “but you can call me Natasha, if you want,” she added, her tone softening to the surprise of you both.

The last words fell from her lips on their own, and they felt like the right thing to say. Maybe it is the way you’re looking at her, with those innocent eyes and smile, that led her to let her guard down so easily. She is trying to find an explanation, but the only satisfying one that comes to her mind is that you are an angel, sent to charm her with that pretty face.

An angel, that’s the word, the only one that’s strong enough to describe what she is seeing right now. From the way the dress follows your curves to the soft features of your face, everything is perfect in her eyes, and even if she tried to, she can’t find a single defect, any more than she is able to keep her suspicions.

She even feels guilty for the way she talked to you previously, her words had been so harsh when you seem to genuinely just want to talk with Barton, not even knowing her name, something unbelievable for someone from her world, someone used to always be a target for everyone, never a friend to anyone.

But you are not from the same world as her, or Barton, she can tell just by looking into your eyes, and that’s the whole problem, because she has no idea how to evolve around someone of your kind, someone that doesn’t even know her name. Her reality is rough, a place where pity and kindness doesn’t exist, where everything is just about who’s the most powerful, it is a world without limits, without morals, and you are the complete opposite.

You are looking like you are made of glass, and when she looks into your eyes, the only thing she sees is the innocence one can only find in the gaze of children. She can tell that you haven’t been broken by life yet, which is a miracle on this planet, and a part of her wants to protect you. She knows it is a selfish wish, because she wants to lock you in a golden cage, somewhere you would be safe and get everything you need, except your freedom. She would hate to see an angel being corrupted, not when they are so rare.

“You can call me Lydia then,” you replied, surprised but satisfied by the turn the events took, maybe you still have a chance to complete the mission. You have no idea what changed her mind, and you don’t question it, but you notice that you somehow now have the woman wrapped around your little finger, and you barely did a thing.

“Lydia,” she repeated after you, as if she needed to say it to believe it, to be sure that you existed, and that you are not some sort of dream, “let me show you around then,” she added, coming back to reality, “the city has a lot of secrets, and I am sure you would appreciate at least some of them.”

Even if it sounds like a question, it is not. She is almost begging you to follow her, as if you would be the one doing a favor to her, when in reality it is the opposite. When you nod, a genuine smile appears on her face, she seems relieved, as if she feared that you could say no. You barely have time to say a word that her hand was already on your lower back, applying a light pressure to guide you outside.

Despite what you said earlier, you know exactly who Natasha Romanoff is, it would have been impossible to ignore her identity when her face is everywhere on the news and streets. However, apart from her name, you don’t know a lot about the woman. She is quite mysterious, always refusing interviews, never answering personal questions, and nothing can be found online, she is a ghost.

All you know are the rumors that depict her as someone that gets everything she wants, and it’s no coincidence that she is now at the head of one of the richest companies on earth. She built her fortune from scratch, and some people say that if she was able to earn that much money so quickly, it’s because part of her business is illegal. However, there is no proof of that, and it’s probably just an idea her opponents are fueling in the hope that it will tarnish her reputation, and impact her business at the same time.

Perhaps you would have acted more prudently if you had those rumors in mind when talking to the woman, but those were forgotten the moment her hand found its way on your back, the way her thumb is brushing circles on your skin being so soft that you let your guard down. For once, maybe you’re going to enjoy the evening, and maybe you will come home feeling something that isn’t self-disgust.

Maybe she is a mean CEO, that would explain the rumors, but maybe life left her no choice, maybe she is a bit like you, a woman that tries her best to survive in this world. When you observe her face under the moonlight, it’s all you can think about.

✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧ • ✧

It is later that day, in the secret of her hotel room, that everything happened. Just as usual, you convinced your victim to make the night last a bit longer, and she brought you to that luxurious room where she is staying. It has been only the two of you, and you actually enjoyed the feeling of her hands on your skin. The praises she whispered in your ears when you were begging her, desperate for the release she denied you, is all you can think about as you are leaving the building the next morning.

The thought of the dirty things she did and told to you are enough to make you blush again, and you are surprised to realize that you’re already missing her presence. You chase those thoughts away, far from your mind, by telling yourself that it was just a play, something that needed to be done, and she will probably be quick to forget about your existence.

She probably used you as much as you did anyway, you noticed the way she looked at you as if you were a porcelain doll, something to possess, something to break. It was a one night thing for the both of you, and it’s probably better that way.

However, this morning, when you woke up, you were reluctant. You wanted to stay in bed, in the warmth of the bed forever, you almost left without stealing anything, feeling guilty to do that to the woman — it was easier when you were hating your victim. You would’ve probably left without taking anything if you didn’t need the money so badly, and you’re sure she won’t miss a few dollars.

By the time she notices you are gone, you are already far away. She was getting out of the bathroom, asking you what you would like for breakfast, and the silence that met her question made her realize that the room was empty, you left.

She was standing in the middle of the room, wrapped in a towel, and her eyes were scanning the room with desperation. The only proof that last night was real are the memories of you beneath her, and a piece of paper on the bedside table. She immediately reached for it, but the paper didn’t say much, and the few words you wrote left a feeling of disappointment in her chest: “Sorry, I have to go, but thanks, the night was cool.”

She doesn’t know what she was hoping for, but for sure she was hoping for more than that, maybe your number, or a promise to come back. It made her feel so silly, and she crumpled the paper before throwing it away, erasing the only evidence of your visit in her room.

Natasha would have liked to share one last moment with you, she thought about getting breakfast at that fancy restaurant across the street. She is thinking about how you would have enjoyed watching the sun rise over the city, as she is sitting here alone. She wished she had a chance to say goodbye to you, because maybe then she would’ve been able to get your number, or anything that would have allowed you to stay in touch, or maybe you didn’t want to. Perhaps you learned about the rumors, and that’s why you left so quickly this morning.

She has been here for maybe one hour when a waitress brings her the note. She was lost in her thoughts the whole time, and barely ate the expensive breakfast she ordered, but she couldn’t care less, money is not a problem when you are one of the richests people on that planet. But to her surprise, when she looks into her wallet, she finds it empty — you only left a few coins.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| part one. part two.

| Tag list : no one atm, but if you're interested, let me know!

#a spes writing #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfiction #dark natasha romanoff #reader insert #female reader #mcu au #mcu women #mcu fanfiction #pretty faces dark souls

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sapphicsentbycyberlife · 6 months

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Threesome with Yelena and Kate

Day Sixteen (Its November but fuck off. I'm not done)

YELENA BELOVA X FEM!READER X KATE BISHOP

Word Count: 2.3K

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

WARNINGS: Threesome, intense fingering (r!receiving), pussy eating (r!receiving), kissing w/tongue, partner sharing, slight impact play, strap-on use (Very brief), Yelena being a cocky shit (we love her), dom!Yelena, soft dom!Kate, sub!reader

SYNOPSIS: Your girlfriend, Kate, comes home to find you in bed already... with her friend... and what you two are caught doing takes the archer way too much by surprise. But what did she expect? It's Yelena; she wants everything that Kate has, including you.

“L-Lena… Lena, p-please…”

“Shhhh… I know, detka, I know…”

“She… She’s gonna b-be home any mi-minute…”

“Then let us put on a little show for her, shall we?”

The sound of a door clicking had you going stiff on the bed, your heart racing and your legs threatening to squeeze shut. The blonde behind you yanked them apart, the rings on her fingers feeling so cold on your skin. “Ah, ah, ah… behave, little one.”

“Babe?” You heard your girlfriend’s voice echo downstairs from the front door, and you immediately attempted to hide your face away in the shoulder of the woman who was making you feel such intense pleasure that you couldn’t even see straight. “You home?”

“Come and join us, Kate Bishop,” The Russian assassin taunted. Heavy boots hit the staircase as she rushed up to where her bed was, stopping in her tracks at the sight before her. The feelings that raced through Kate’s body were like a roller coaster.

It was you, her girlfriend of over three years, naked as the day you were born with your legs spread wide open and leaning back against the fully clothed body of one Yelena Belova. The blonde’s right hand was holding your neck in a teasing manner while her left was rubbing between you slit that was glistening and dripping in the light of the lamp next to her bed.

“K-Katie,” You breathed through soft whimpers of pleasure, reaching out a little like you wanted her to be in the bed with you. Kate looked somewhat distraught. Her jaw was tight, and she was looking at Yelena like she wanted to set her on fire.

“What is this?” Kate demanded from the assassin who simply giggled and pressed a teasing kiss against your cheek. Her fingers slid down from your clit, and she grinned with an open mouth when her fingers pushed inside of you, and you let out the most pathetically loud cry of pleasure in your life.

“She’s so pretty, Bishop,” Yelena taunted, loving how your muscles clenched on her digits and watching them disappear inside of your warmth. “And you wanted to keep her to yourself? Is that not selfish?”

“She’s mine, Yelena,” Kate said aggressively, her hands clenching into fists as she stepped forward and you squirmed around on the bed between Yelena’s legs. The blonde felt how your pussy squeezed her fingers and chuckled darkly, much to Kate’s misery.

“Oh yes, she is most definitely yours,” Yelena purred against your ear, her accent so thick and heavy that you sobbed at how beautiful her voice was. “And yet… it is me she is going to cum for, is it not little one?”

“L-Lena, pl-please I…” You huffed, head falling back as you bucked your hips up against her hand. Yelena was grinning, loving how you were so desperate to cum that you didn’t care who was doing the touching right now. And she loved how much it was pissing off Kate, but she had yet to do a thing to stop her. If Yelena didn’t know any better… she would think that Kate was enjoying this more than she was showing.

The archer was standing close, her hands clenched into fists as she glared at Yelena but allowed her eyes to drift across your body. She admired the way your chest heaved from the intense breathing, how your hips rolled forward just right, and how your pretty pussy was swallowing her friend’s fingers so beautifully that it made her dizzy. Kate was jealous… But was she jealous that Yelena was fucking you, or that she wasn’t around for the whole thing?

“Come now Bishop,” Yelena teased, her fingers moving in and out of you even faster as she squeezed your throat and you saw stars behind your eyes. “Don’t just stand there with that cute expression… You must want to touch her now?”

“She belongs to me,” Kate demanded, regarding you like you weren’t even present in that moment. Yelena rolled her eyes and twisted her fingers inside of you just right that you couldn’t hold back any longer. The cry of pleasure rumbled out of you and Yelena cooed sweetly with how your ass lifted off the bed and you bucked your hips up against her hand. Like she was getting off to seeing you humping up on her fingers.

“K-K-Katieeeeee…” You grabbed your girlfriend’s hand and sobbed, pushing down as hard as possible onto Yelena’s fingers and listening to the deep and sultry coo of the assassin currently fucking your brains out. “P-P-Please… Please, please Katie… Katie, n-need you…”

“You heard her, Bishop,” Yelena smirked. “She needs you. Why not get to work?”

“This is…” Kate huffed, her cheeks turning the deepest red imaginable while trying to ignore the obvious wetness growing between her legs. Her jeans were already sticking against her skin, and she would want nothing more than to be the one down to fuck your brains out… but Yelena was holding you. Yelena was fucking you. “This is insane.”

“Stop being so rational, Kate,” The archer looked at the blonde, shocked that she only used her first name this time around. Yelena must have been serious. “All of us want this… why not give in to what you want?”

A long moment of tense silence passed. The only thing that could be heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds your pussy made as Yelena’s skilled fingers slid between your slicked folds. After too long, Yelena began to grow impatient and enticed Kate with a slap against your cunt, making you cry out in the apartment and bite down on your lip.

“Fuck it,” The last of Kate’s self-control dissolved as she tossed her jacket aside and flopped down on the bed between your legs. She grabbed Yelena’s hand, moving it away with bordering desperation before her entire mouth was against your pussy.

The noise you made had Yelena’s eyes rolling back as she grabbed your hip with one hand and pushed herself against you. Kate reached out and wrapped her arms around your thighs, devouring your pussy like it was her last meal. It was a messy combination of sounds. Slurps, licks, and muffled moans against you as she focused on your slightly gaped opening from the blonde’s fingers, teasing at it with her tongue and listening to your sweet sounds.

“I see why she likes you, Kate,” Yelena taunted, sliding one of her hands into Kate’s long black hair and holding her against your pussy. The same hand she just finished fucking you with. “You sure know how to please her, don’t you?”

A muffled “Shut up.” Came from Kate’s mouth still attached to your pussy as she looked up at you and admired the way your face contorted in pure filthy bliss. She was in heaven when she saw you like this… All whiny and whimpering with every stroke of her tongue against you. Kate pulled back for a brief moment to take a breath, spreading your lower lips apart and watching your hole clench around nothing and how her breath felt cold against your clit.

“Jesus Christ, Yelena,” Kate gaped at her hard handiwork. “You stretched her pretty pussy out so much. How many did she take?”

Yelena smirked before she released Kate’s hair and slid her fingers back down to your cunt. “Watch closely, Bishop…”

You barely had more than a few seconds of warning before Yelena was stuffing you full again. Four fingers, laying on top of each other to form almost a triangle shape as she plunged them completely inside of you. Kate was gaping at the sight, her own heart about to leap from her chest. “Fuck…”

“Your girl is quite the slut, is she not?” Yelena teased before retracting her fingers, making you feel empty again. You whimpered, licking your wet lips and leaning back against Yelena like she was the only thing keeping you from collapsing. “Are you done?”

Kate remembered when Yelena first asked her that before dousing boxed mac and cheese with sriracha sauce. A giggle left her throat and she grinned, biting her wet lip and kissing your inner thigh. Kate went from heated and upset to living within the moment. And this bothered her a lot less than she first thought… In fact, she was enjoying this. A lot.

“Not even close, Belova,” Kate slowly stood up from where she was between your legs, crawling a little until her face was inches away from Yelena’s. You reached out to hold her by the waist and keep her steady, feeling the blonde smirk next to your face leaning a little closer to the archer until she could smell your pussy on her face. “Now I want to eat something else.”

“Oh, I am sorry, Kate Bishop,” Yelena taunted. “But you are all out of macaroni.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Yelena.” And with that last snap, she was finally closing the distance, her lips pressing down on Yelena’s and making the ex-widow shudder with built-up pleasure. You bit down on your lip and began to leave soft little kisses against your girlfriend’s neck, loving this soft tender moment after the mixture of blistering pleasure from the both of them.

Yelena traced her tongue across Kate’s bottom lip, drowning in your taste and moaning into the kiss like she was having the time of her life. When it finally broke, you were whining. Yelena smirked and reached for your hair, grabbing the patch at the base of your neck and grinning like the Cheshire cat.

“Little one, you have no patience, and no manners,” That thick Russian accent had you whimpering all over again as you squirmed so you could face Yelena, heart racing as you shared a look with Kate. A moment passed before she nodded and gently rubbed against your back, giving you silent permission.

“I suppose,” You leaned forward yourself, wrapping both arms around Yelena’s neck and slowly pushing her down until the blonde was on the bed completely, her boots digging into the mattress and her eyes wide with confusion. “You will just have to teach me to behave, Lena…”

A moment of silence carried before Yelena grinned and flipped you over onto your back, holding you down and kissing at your lips with all of the hunger that Kate shared when she was eating you out. The sight had your girlfriend far more aroused than she wished to admit… why was it that seeing you and her friend making out was so fucking hot to her? What was it about Yelena pressing her fingers to your cunt all over again that made her entire body shiver with delight?

“Kate Bishop,” Yelena gasped into your lips, her heart racing a little as she leaned back just enough to start stripping off her jacket. You watched with raw excitement. Kate was suddenly in a trance as she bared witness to THE Yelena Belova stripping in front of her.

The blonde got down to just her bra and you grabbed at her belt, yanking on it aggressively and watching Yelena chuckle before she looked at Kate, seeing that the archer was drooling. “Bishop!”

“What?” Kate looked up, her ears turning pink with embarrassment for a second. “What? What did I do?”

“It is not what you did, but what you will do,” Yelena undid her belt and began pushing her tight jeans down over her hips and down her thighs. “Go into your box, and get the harness with the toy.”

“T-The strap? You mean the strap, Yelena?” Kate clarified, her stomach twisting and flipping with pure adrenaline as she was moving on autopilot and stepping towards the box by her window. Very quickly, she opened the lid and bit down on her lip, seeing the black harness with the dildo attachment still connected to it after she cleaned it last time. Obediently, she brought it over to Yelena and the blonde looked at her with confusion.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Uh… d-do you need help with the—”

“Kate, you misunderstand,” Yelena rolled her eyes teasingly before her pants were completely stripped away and she fell down on top of your body. You shivered at her cold skin on your burning hot flesh as she leaned down just long enough to kiss you before grabbing at the fabric of her underwear and moving it to the side. “You will be using it… on the both of us.”

“Y-You want me… to fuck you?”

“Yes!” Yelena answered like it was obvious before she looked down at you and chuckled. “Is your girlfriend always this ridiculous? Does she need help this often?”

You rolled your eyes and nodded a little. “Kate is… slightly vanilla in bed,” You teased, much to Kate’s dismay. The archer looked offended at your words and glared, challenging you to say more. You took the challenge. “She’s good, but she’s scared.”

“Really?” Yelena giggled, looking at Kate over her shoulder as she ripped the fabric of her panties like it was nothing, exposing the entirety of her glistening folds to the archer and making Kate bite down on her lip hard enough to draw blood. Fucking hell, Yelena’s pussy looked beautiful. “And to think she has a little freak like you within her arms and she cannot even bring herself to fuck you as hard as you need.”

“Oh, you want it hard?” Kate got angry, pulling her jeans off her hips in one swift motion and stepping into the harness. You bit down on your lip as Yelena smirked, waiting patiently for Kate to finally touch both of you. The straps were secured, and you shuddered at seeing the nine inch toy standing upright against Kate’s hips. She got down on the bed on her knees behind Yelena and reached down with both hands to grab the assassin’s ass. “You’ll get it hard, Belova.”

“T-Then get to work, Bishop,” Yelena teased, her arousal dripping down onto your own pussy and nixing your wetness together. Kate lined herself up with the blonde’s entrance and you watched in wonder as Yelena let out the most perfect, guttural, voice cracking moan of her entire life. You were practically drooling like a dog.

“Finally… you shut your mouth, Yelena.”

#lesbian kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #lesbian fic #kate bishop mcu #yelena belova smut #kate bishop smut #yelena belova x reader #kate bishop x reader x yelena #mcu women #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe

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mad-as-a-box-of-frogs · 2 months

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They hit me. I hit back.

Maya Lopez in Lowak (1x02): Echo [2/5]

#maya lopez #echo #alaqua cox #series echo #marvel echo #mcu echo #marveledit #marvelgif #echo tv #mcu women #love her love her love her #still not sure which tags to use

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be-loved-moon · 1 month

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#scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson imagine #marvel cast #mcu women #black widow #natasha romanoff

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midnight-ramblingswfc · 19 days

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Oh shes done done

#mary earps #manchester united women #mcu women #man united women

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dragonmp93 · 6 months

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You know, I think that the only problem with this lineup would be a severe lack of impulse control on this team.

#mcu women #marvel women #marvel mcu #marvel #mcu #superheroine #yelena belova #princess shuri #riri williams #cassie lang #kate bishop #kamala khan

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pvnks0ul · 9 months

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She's so fine like I need her so bad I could cry (〒︿〒)

#riri williams x reader #riri x you #ironheart x reader #riri williams #ironheart #dominique thorne #mcu women #marvel lgbt

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kedu56 · 5 months

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Danai Gurira in Rwanda

#danai gurira #danai #twd cast #twd family #the walking dead #michonne #richonne #black panther cast #writer #actress #marvel cast #mcu women #mcu cast

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sestrahulk · 7 months

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TATIANA MASLANY! September 22, 1985

#Tatiana Maslany #Orphan Black #OB Cast #Clone Club #Helena #She Hulk #She Hulk Attorney at Law #Jennifer Walters #Marvel Cast #MCU Cast #MCU Women #WomenOfMCU #my gifs

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marvelsgirl616 · 1 month

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Xochitl Gomez at the 2024 Oscars

#xochitl gomez #america chavez #2024 oscars #women of marvel #mcu women #marvel cast #red carpet fashion

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lynngifs909 · 1 year

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Wanda + her face expressions❤

WandaVision (2021)

Ep 5 On a Very Special Episode.

Dir by. Matt Shakman Writer. Jac Schaeffer.

Elizabeth Olsen as Wanda Maximoff.

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a-spes · 5 months

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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.

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