#mafia!Natasha romanoff

[unholyhelbig]

request: single mom reader decides to loan shark from natasha’s mob. when reader can’t pay back the loan, natasha’s men capture and beat her. natasha sees reader among the criminals and drug dealers who also haven’t payed back their loans, and excuses her, forgiving her debt.

Title: The Oversight

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 2799

Warnings: Drug use, kidnapping, guns, choking, threats, blood, horrible grammar.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

[a/n: Yeah, I kind of feel like this needs a part two. Let me know what you guys think and if you're interested]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Each breath you drew in spurred a sharp stitch in your side. They came in rapid succession, even as you struggled to recall the fuzzy details that usually calmed you down. Your first street name. What you called your first pet. The name of your second-grade teacher. They all swirled foggily, unable to recall.

Your mouth tasted metallic cotton and your heartbeat was pulsing through your entire body. Counting the thrums hadn’t helped either, you gave up as you rolled your neck in a snow circle. The dried blood that hardened against the side of your face, your cheek, and down the expanse of your collarbone crackled at the soft movement.

The room that housed you was pitch black. It was hard to tell when you opened your eyes, tears welling up and dripping down your face onto your uniform. Your arms were bound behind your back, shoulders screaming in protest and fingers going numb from the cold. Your small noises echoed. Wherever you were was impossibly vast.

The next breath that escaped you was deeper than the rest. Not necessarily calm, but enough for you to take stock of the situation; there were flashes of you leaving the diner where you worked nothing short of twelves. It had just rained, and the air was humid. You dropped your keys and bent down to pick them up.

Before you could insert them into the lock, something hard had come down on your temple. There was a rush of heat sloshing down your face and a moment later, as you looked up at the sky, the steel tip of a boot took the rest of your consciousness.

That didn’t bother you. You were fine, a little banged up, but fine. Your daughter was left with the sitter. It could have been hours, maybe even a day. Your stomach clenched in hunger, and you drifted in and out of lucidity. They’d left you un-gagged but you didn’t have it in you to scream. You had a sinking feeling that no one would hear you anyway.

You’d flinched when the first 500-volt lamp let out a sharp hiss before flipping on. You shrunk into yourself, blinking away the sudden burst of white light that filled the room. It was directed towards you, and the rest of the space was still a frustratingly thick darkness. You couldn’t see who had turned them on, but they could see you.

The boots that walked across the floor were loud. They echoed like your earlier sobs. A metal chair was being dragged, and the sound was piercing. It did nothing to aide your aching head. You were thankful to see something other than pitch black, however big the danger.

You recognized the man who was in front of you. His outline flickered solidly. He looked rougher than you did; dirty-blonde hair, and stubble. There was a bandage across the center of his nose, on his fingertips, as if he’d fisted the razor while shaving. His purple T-shirt was covered by a dusty-brown leather jacket. His stare was hard, emotionless.

“You’re awfully quiet for a hostage.” He said, straddling the chair he had dragged over. His chest rested against the metal backing. “You can scream if you want. Wear yourself down. It’ll make this a lot easier.”

“What is this?” You asked instead of taking him up on his offer.

He was familiar to you. Clint. He came into the diner every Wednesday and Friday night like clockwork. He’d order a roast beef on rye with Swiss cheese and extra dressing on the side. He’d suck down two beers with his meal and tipped generously.

Sometimes he was with the man they called ‘The Winter Soldier’. You’d always found the name laughable, but the rumors about him were enough for you to hold your tongue. He never ate but would sometimes order a diet coke and sip it while Clint spoke through large bites of food.

Law enforcement wouldn’t’ touch Bucky Barnes, and your boss would typically comp whatever he ordered. A few months ago, you had shared your first words with him behind the diner. The air stunk of rotted food and hardly counted as fresh air. However, it was a few degrees cooler than the kitchen.

He had offered you a cigarette, one already perched between his lips, a zippo lighter at the ready in his other hand. You declined with the shake of your head, and a quiet ‘no thank you’. There was an uncomfortable silence, but it was better than the damp warmth of the kitchen. A sweet, burning scent filled your nose when he lit his cigarette and let the smoke curl around the two of you like a slack rope.

“You work hard in there.” Bucky said, taking a long inhale. He held it within his lungs, voice pinched. “Harder than anyone else I’ve seen in a while.”

You weren’t about to tell him about your daughter, not with his reputation, or the small smattering of pink scars across his chiseled features. So, you nodded instead. The number of tips you got in the broken down, greasy diner was the difference between two meals and one. So, you smiled sweetly and laid on the southern accent even though you’d only spent a short stint in Georgia when you were eighteen. It was easy to perfect.

“I bet you could name my order right now.”

“You don’t order.”

“I don’t trust the food.” He shrugged listlessly, a lazy smile against his lips. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“That’s a good call.”

He laughed at your honesty, and it was a nice sound. He disarmed you and that was worrying. Bucky let the cigarette sizzle out in a puddle at his feet. He used the tip of his steel-toed boot to grind the paper into damp ash.

“You wouldn’t’ have to work so hard if you had some extra cash, would you?”

The question caught you off guard and you couldn’t stifle the vicious glare that you gave him. Your break was almost over, and you could have, should have, walked back into the restaurant to finish the rest of your shift. Bucky lifted his hands up as a peace offering.

“Look, lady, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything. All I’m saying is, you’re not blind to what happens in there, the type of people that frequent this place. You’ve always turned a blind eye and that’s something my boss appreciates. Something she trusts.”

“And who exactly is your boss?”

He tsked “I can’t tell you that, sweetheart. But she wants to make you an offer, she wants to offer you a loan. You’re what? Three months behind on rent? She’ll front that for you and the following two.”

You took a deep breath of stale air. It was a tempting offer, even if it came in the form of a seedy enforcer in an even seedier alleyway. You were three days from getting evicted. Three days from ending up on the streets in a neighborhood that didn’t’ have a single safe one.

“What’s the catch?” You asked.

“Catch? There’s no catch. This is a friendly loan. All you’ve gotta do is pay it back when you’re on your feet again.”

It was an oversight, not asking for a concrete timeline. You hadn’t paid Bucky’s boss back yet, and over the next few months, there were stifled threats, and both Bucky and Clint watched you carefully at the job that you still worked like nothing had changed. The feeling of being indebted lingered, but this time, it was to an unknown entity instead of a landlord that was ultimately harmless.

Everything needed to be paid back in full. These were thousands you didn’t have. And now, two weeks after the initial threat, you were strapped to a metal chair with blood dripping down the sound of your face, in despite need of a drink of water.

Clint was harmless compared to The Winter Soldier, but his muscles still flexed under his shirt as he pulled his jacket off and let it fall to the dusty floor illuminated in blue light. “I would prefer not to get that dirty. It’s genuine leather, you know?”

You glowered at him as he stood and took a few more steps towards you. He looked relatively harmless each time you’d seen him in the diner. Sometimes he had a girl with him, a slight thing that was just as littered in scars as he was. She would order a plate of bacon that was cooked to a crisp and split it with a golden retriever that laid at their feet.

When his wrapped knuckles made contact with your cheek, your head clocked in the opposite direction. There was a sharp pain in your jaw, a ringing in your ear. He had slammed into the same side of your face as earlier, and you lost vision for a second.

Blood filled your mouth, and you spit the mix of saliva, bile, and blood onto the floor. There was a drain in the center and that worried you more than anything else. Your breathing came fast and hard and you glared at him, teeth stained pink.

“Is that all?” You asked him.

It was stupid, you knew it was stupid. But it bothered you more than anything that you had gotten yourself wrapped up in this. Your father was no stranger to the mob, and you should have seen it from a mile away. The fear he lived with. Until the day he died, he would look over his shoulder and you refused to do the same.

Clint grabbed your face, squeezing hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. “You’re a tough chick, huh? I think we both know why you’re here. All you have to do is get the money and all of this vanishes.”

“I don’t have the money.” Your words were garbled between his fingers. “You’re sure as fuck not going to get it if you kill me.”

“Kill you?” Clint unhanded you and let out a laugh. “Kill you, she says. No, we’re not going to kill you, she would never get her money that way… your daughter on the other hand.”

You pulled against the ropes, and they dug painfully into you. The chair was liable to break, but it had been bolted to the floor. It was much stronger than the one he’d dragged over. The mix of anger and fear that had rushed over you pulled away any thought of lingering aches and pains. Be damned to the head trauma.

Your teeth were gritted, voice a low hiss “Leave her the fuck out of this.”

“Did I strike a nerve?”

“I swear to you, I will get your money, I just need time. I’m not… You can keep me under surveillance as collateral, take my car, my apartment- just leave her out of this.”

Clint gripped your throat with his calloused hand, your ability to breathe became more difficult, half-moon nails digging into your flesh. It stung fiercely, and you let out a gurgle in response. “Or she could be our collateral. I think she’d make a great enforcer, with the proper education, that is.”

Is that what happened to the girl that ate lunch with Clint at the diner? She didn’t looked like she was there against her will, but there was an immense sadness to her eyes. Clint hadn’t released you yet and your vison was growing fuzzy at the edges.

“Let her go,”

Your chest was burning at this point and when he pulled his hand back you tried desperately to regain your sense of lucidity. You coughed, nearly vomiting as he took a long stride backwards, seemingly put into his place with a simple sentence.

Over the ringing of your ears, you heard the sharp click of heels. They were confident, and your chin dropped to your chest as you panted in succession, spit dripping in strings from your lips. You didn’t have the strength to look up, your head was pounding.

“I think that’s enough,” Her voice was smooth, just the smallest bit of an accent in her words. You couldn’t place it, but you couldn’t tell which way was up at this point. “You’re dismissed.”

“Oh, come on Natasha, I was just having a little fun.”

“Dismissed, Clint.”

There was a labored sigh and the sound of his footsteps retreating. It brought little relief to you, however. You felt as if you had traded one evil for another. Eventually, you lifted your head to stare at the ceiling. The stranger hadn’t said anything, and the pitch dark above was more desirable to the unknown.

You heard her sit down and felt her eyes watching you. The swimming in your head started to dissipate so you clocked her with a stare. The woman in front of you was angelic, in such a way that you figured Clint’s choking stunt had actually done you in.

Her stare was an unripe green rimmed in gold, her cheekbones carved from marble. There was a beautiful softness to her expression, and her deep red hair flowed over her shoulders in a waterfall of color. She was studying you, not phased by the cold of the room.

The woman wore a black t-shirt, deep slashes of ink peaking from the dip of the V-neck. You didn’t’ let your eyes linger long. It was a marking that you’d seen on Clints bicep and on Buckey’s hand. You hadn’t gotten a chance to clock it on the girl that was kept in their company.

“Is this the part where you come in with your good cop schtick?” You mumbled.

“Darling, Clint is the good cop.”

“Nice, I like it.” You rolled your shoulders back, fighting the stiffness “Bad cop and worse cop is much more effective.”

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you for someone in your position. Thousands of dollars in debt and seemingly no way to pay back my money. It’s not a good spot to be in, Y/n.”

Natasha stood from the chair, her muscles straining at the action. In a fluid motion, she pulled a black standard issue handgun from the space between her skin and her jeans. She pumped the shaft, the sound echoed more than your quickened breathing.

She used the tip to push your chin up, forcing you to look into her unblinking eyes. You were a dead man, you knew that from her cold stare. You couldn’t look away, even if the option was given.

“Baby, I’ve been in this business for a long time.” Her breath was hot on your collarbone, a mix of mint and tobacco. “I know exactly the type that you are. I cater to your kind. More often than not, my clientele need a little bit of encouragement.”

The tip of her gun traced your jaw, her finger loosely on the trigger. It was cold against your collarbone, down the center of your breasts. She held it there, jaw set in stone.

“We’ll keep you here for a few days. Once you dry out a little, I’m sure you’ll suddenly come into the cash.”

“Dry out? You think I’m on drugs?”

The tip pushed hard enough into your sternum to make you let out a grunt of pain. “You hide it quite well, pet. I’m sure it won’t be as simple when you start to feel those withdraw symptoms. Money flows simple in this town when those cravings kick in.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her, despite the weapon that she was packing. A frown creased between her eyebrows, but she held it in place. “The hardest thing I’ve ever hit is a blunt in a high school rotation. That was your brilliant plan? Dry me out and then what? Search my backyard for jars filled with money. I don’t have it. I make 2.50 an hour at a diner.”

Natasha scrutinized you, eyes hard. She righted herself and pulled the gun away from your center before flipping on the safety and shoving it back into her jeans. She started to pace the length of the light.

“Bucky, he offered me a loan and I took it so I could pay the rent on an apartment for me and my daughter.” You said, voice quiet “I work thirteen hour shifts six days a week, and it’s still not enough. I’m not… I don’t know who you cater to, but I have a feeling it’s not someone like me.”

“No.” she crossed her arms over her chest, “It seems as if you’re an oversight.”

“Great,” you flexed your numbing fingers, “An oversight you’ll let go?”

Natasha shook her head, clenching and unclenching her jaw. “No, I’m afraid not.”

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Mafia Boss Natasha Romanoff #Marvel #Marvel Fanfiction #Clint Barton #Kate Bishop #Bucky Barnes #Mafia au #request

[oizysian]

Part II: Daddy Issues

I Set the World on Fire masterlist

Warnings: non-con touching, talk of sex, slapping

Word count: 2.3k

My breath was shaky as we exited the car, my hearing and smell the only senses I could rely on. The blindfold that covered my eyes soaked up my tears, my hands were tied behind my back and my footsteps were tentative as I walked with the woman who had kidnapped me. She had a tight grip on my arm as she led me along and I tried my damndest to pick up some sort of clues with my remaining senses.

Leaves crunched beneath my feet as we walked and the air smelt crisp. The only sound to be heard was birds chirping and our footsteps, so I had nothing to go on to identify where I was.

We stopped and I heard the sound of a large door opening, creaking with effort and age.

“Let’s go.” The woman said and gave me a nudge, and I started walking again.

The crunching of leaves changed to clicking of heels as we entered. There were multiple people now and it felt as though we were walking forever when I heard another door open and then close behind us after we entered.

“Now what do we have here?” The voice was smooth and sensual and it sent a tingling down my spine.

“Surprise! How’d I do, Natasha? Delivered with no damage.” The woman next to me said and I scoffed, inching away from her. “Don’t worry, she’s friendly - not trained, but friendly.”

“Fuck you.” I spat and I heard the women laughing.

“She’s a real charmer,” the other woman commented, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Take the blindfold off of her.”

The blonde woman sighed and did as she was told, removing the blindfold and stuffing it in her back pocket. I squinted at the sudden brightness of the room, trying to make out the image in front of me.

A woman - a very beautiful woman - sat on a very expensive looking couch, lounging in a pencil skirt and a button up shirt that showed way too much cleavage. My heart sped up at the sight of her, fear overtaking me for the most part, but I couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t attractive.

“You’re even prettier in person.” She said softly, getting up from where she was sitting and approaching us.

She ran one of her long fingers down the side of my face, then grabbed my chin gently and tilted my head from side to side so she could see all of me.

“Exquisite.”

“What do you want?” I finally voiced, trembling in her powerful presence.

“Leave us.” She looked at the blonde from over my shoulder and when she didn’t move, the woman spoke again. “Yelena. I’ll call for you when I’m done. Go.”

I heard her huff from behind me and she walked out with whoever else accompanied us. Once the door slammed shut, the redheaded woman looked me over once more, a hunger in her gaze.

“Just beautiful.”

“What do you want from me?” My voice wavered, my breath getting caught in my throat.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

I shook my head.

“Revenge.”

I backed away from her, almost losing my footing as I attempted to escape. I made it to the door and banged on it with my shoulder, feebly trying to break it down. I could hear her laughing and I did my best not to cry as I realized I was completely trapped - there was no escape.

“Maybe it would help if I untied you.” She teased and I grunted, slumping against the door as she approached me. “I’m not going to hurt you.” I looked up at her, my bottom lip trembling as I accepted my defeat.

She helped me to my feet and smiled.

“Let me start again. I’m Natasha Romanoff.”

I stayed silent. This woman had me kidnapped and was now trying to be my friend?

“And you’re Y/N.”

I panted softly as she spoke, my eyes hard with defiance.

“Lena was right. Not trained at all.”

“I’m not a dog.” I snapped and she laughed.

“No, but that’s how you’ve been treated, isn’t it?”

Her words hurt and I’m sure it was very visible on my face that she had hit a sore spot. She cupped my cheek, lifting my head up to look her in her eyes.

“I won’t treat you like she did.” She stroked my cheek with her thumb. “I’ll give you the world.”

“You’re a monster.” I said, trembling.

She blinked at me, her breathing heavy.

“You want to see a monster?”

Fear shined in my eyes at her words.

“I can show you a monster.” She said, turning me around so my face was pressed against the door. “Let me demonstrate,” she said, pausing to grab at my hips and tug down my pants. “How a monster gets what they want.”

I screamed, wriggling under her weight as she held me down, her hand threading through my hair, grabbing a fistful and tugging on it.

“Monsters just take.” She hissed in my ear, giving my ass a slap before running her hand along the swell of it. “If I want this,” she grabbed at me and I cried out in pain. “I’ll just take it. That’s what a monster does.”

“Please!” I squirmed under her, unable to control my body’s reaction to her. “Stop!”

“A monster,” she continued. “Wouldn’t ask for your consent. A monster doesn’t listen to ‘stop’.” She brought her lips to my ear and panted softly against it, her breasts pressed up against my back. “A monster would rip your panties off and stuff three fingers inside your cunt whether you wanted it or not.”

She brought her hand around to cup my sex, undoubtedly feeling the heat through my panties.

“You like monsters, don’t you?”

I shook my head, tears still cascading down my cheeks.

“Oh no?” She pressed her hand against me and I jerked back into her, my ass grinding into her crotch. “You’re telling me no, but your body is screaming yes.”

I thrashed underneath her, no matter how I moved I was pressing myself against her. I couldn’t escape and I couldn’t control myself. I bit my lip and tried to control my breathing as her hand released my hair, but trailed down to the nape of my neck, grabbing me and holding me against the door.

“You’re wet for me. How would Wanda feel seeing you like this?”

“Fuck you!” I screamed and she let out a soft chuckle.

“Take a look over there, printsessa.” She directed my gaze over to a video camera that was set up in the corner of the room, watching us, following our every move. “I’m gonna send Wanda this video and she’s gonna hear you cumming for me over and over and -”

“You bitch! Wanda!” I sobbed, still struggling against her.

“I’m not a bitch. I’m a monster, remember?”

I could feel the ropes burning my skin as I struggled, my legs spread apart and shaking as I tried to keep myself standing.

“And if I can do this to you,” she snarled. “Imagine what I can do to Wanda.”

“No, please!” I cried. “Don’t hurt her!”

I stopped moving against her, and she let me go. I slid down the door and fell in a heap at her feet, still crying softly.

“What do you want me to do?”

She knelt down next to me, brushing the hair from my face gently.

“Give in to me. That’s all you need to do.”

•

Several Days Later

“You bitch! Wanda!”

Wanda gritted her teeth as she watched the video sent to her of Y/N, visibly shaking with rage.

“No, please! Don’t hurt her!”

Her heart broke as she listened to her plead for her safety. She had been such a bitch to her and here she was sacrificing herself to protect her.

“Find that Romanoff bitch.” Wanda said to Dimitri, her voice low and dangerous. “I’m going to kill her.”

“Do you think that’s wise, Wanda?” He spoke to her softly, gently.

“She has Y/N!” She yelled as she stood from her desk, barely holding back from the temptation of destroying everything in the room out of white hot rage.

“Exactly, she has Y/N. We’re at a disadvantage. We should see what she wants.” Leo suggested and Wanda stared daggers at him.

“She wouldn’t have gotten to Y/N if you were doing your goddamn job!”

Dimitri gave Leo a look, one that Wanda did not fail to miss, and sat back down in her chair, rubbing her face with her hands.

“I don’t care what she wants - whatever she wants she can have it.” Her breath hitched. “I just need Y/N back.”

“We’ll get her back.” Dimitri spoke with determination in his voice.

“Go.” She said softly, not even bothering to raise her head. “I don’t want to see either of you again until you have some news for me.”

Leo turned and left without a word, but Dimitri lingered, clearly having something on his mind.

“I said go, Dimitri.” She said as she finally looked up at him and she saw the odd look on his face, nearly causing her to go pale.

“Wanda …” he started and she interrupted him before he could finish.

“You know something, don’t you?”

•

“No more tears, printsessa,” she cooed softly, stroking her thumb along my lower lip. “She’s not coming for you.”

I jerked my head away from her, still unable to believe that.

“That’s not true.” I whimpered softly, sniffling as she grabbed hold of my face again so I would look at her.

“She’s not coming. So open that pretty mouth for daddy. Just like before.”

Defeated, I opened my mouth and she slid her fingers inside. I wrapped my lips around the intrusive digits, my tongue swirling along the length of them, just like she showed me.

“That’s my good girl.” She purred, stroking my hair with her free hand. “Get them nice and wet.”

Tears trailed down my cheeks as I sucked on her fingers, my mind wandering as I did as I was told. What if Wanda wasn’t coming for me? What if she didn’t care and did leave me here with Natasha?

She pulled her fingers out of my mouth and before I could react, she slapped me across the face, knocking me back onto the bed.

“Stay with me, printsessa. I want you here with me.”

“Yes, daddy.” I cried, scrambling to my knees so I could ask for her forgiveness.

I hated giving into her, but I didn’t have a choice. It was either me or Wanda and I didn’t want to imagine what she’d do if she got her hands on her.

I would daydream that Wanda would come for me, get me out of this hell and we could be together again. But, she hasn’t come yet, and I’ve lost count of how many days I’ve been trapped here with Natasha.

Days blended with nights and now I wasn’t sure what time or what day it was. She kept me in a darkened bedroom with no windows, and I wasn’t allowed to leave the room under any circumstances. I was a prisoner and she made sure I knew it when I acted out of line. But when I was good, she treated me more like an equal; letting me feed myself, not being tied to the bed, and being allowed to go to the bathroom by myself.

So, more often than not, I obeyed her, let her have me in all the ways she wanted me just to hurt Wanda. It wasn’t always entirely unpleasant. Some nights she was gentle with me, and some nights she just wanted me to cum to hurt Wanda. I fought her so many times, struggling against my body to not cum for her, but I couldn’t control myself and every night she won.

Natasha was an incredibly powerful woman, and everyone she surrounded herself with knew it and respected her. To me, she was just a monster. She didn’t feel, she didn’t love, she just wanted and took. I didn’t know what she wanted from Wanda, and I couldn’t imagine what she could’ve done to this woman to have her go to these lengths to torture her.

Was she even suffering? Did she even care about what was happening to me?

She reached behind me and slapped my ass hard, causing me to fall face first into her, her other hand steadying me before I toppled us both over.

“This will be easier for you once you stop thinking about her. She doesn’t care about you.”

“Stop.” I cried, rubbing my face against the softness of her shirt.

“She doesn’t care like I do. I’ve taken care of you - fed you, bathed you - I’ve even made you cum.”

“Stop it.” I sobbed against her.

She stroked my hair gently, almost soothingly.

“She gave you to me. You’re mine now. She doesn’t care about you.”

I knew she was saying these things to test me, to see if I’ll disobey her and be defiant, but I didn’t have the strength. I was completely drained of everything. It was beginning to seem real, the fact that Wanda gave me to Natasha. The reality that I would have to live like this forever and that this was my life now began to sink in.

I cried, my tears soaking into the fabric of her expensive shirt. She shushed me softly, brushing the hair back from my flushed face.

“Once you give in to me completely, things will get easier for you here, I promise.”

She knew I would give in, it was only a matter of time. I didn’t know what she wanted from Wanda, but it was clear that Wanda wasn’t willing to trade it away for me, and I belonged to Natasha.

“Yes, daddy,” I whispered, taking her hand in mine and bringing it up to my face, rubbing my cheek against her palm. “I’m yours.”

“Say it once more for daddy.”

I looked up into her darkened eyes, swallowing roughly as I pushed back the tears that threatened to fall once again.

“I’m yours.”

•

@marvelogic @casquinhaa @mathxa @oh-thats-cute @ornorr @milkeeteaa @souanick @nothanksbye07 @romanoff101 @dracarys8287

#oizysian writes #mafia!au #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maxmoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n

[darkdemeter]

OLD DRAFT CONCEPT : " GUARD DOG "

—- not my gif, credit to original poster! -—

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader (x slight Natasha Romanoff)

A/N — Here's a little bedtime story for ya'll. Old draft concept for an upcoming and looong oneshot for Wanda in a mafia au setting. Bits and pieces may be recognised in the published column plot wise but overall, we're taking an alternate route, my babbies.

WORD COUNT — 2.2k

READER DISCRETION — Alcohol consumption — mafia business and semi dark themes — profanity — mention of death and murder — mention of black market and auction — reader and Nat have some history — player reader Tony is so proud — Alexander Pierce is of course an arsehole, what else is new? — Rumlow is a bad guy (duh) — I think that's it?

An expensive investment. A broad term to use for a werewolf broken in by the system at a young age. But it’s true. 

Alexander Pierce, the finance manager and ringleader as a whole, did all he could to break you in, and to say he did is an understatement. He exceeded the limits you once believed you had and once you were ready, he put you out in the field to garner your reputation. 

You had no limits. Ruthless in your endeavour to complete whatever task was required of you, prepared to do whatever it took, your peers could only look at you with both fear and admiration. 

When all was said and done, you were given your collar, then sold through the underground hub for criminals: the black market. 

That’s when you learnt in the span of the few minutes that the auction lasted for, that you were either a trophy to those of the higher class of crime, or a very wanted source of security and war. From black funding operators that had their hand in the military’s pit on the hunt for a war hound, to the gangster overlords who controlled territories in the differing states and countries, requiring some form of high end security, there was a very rapid increase in the price they were each willing to pay. 

At a total of twenty-five million, your collar and services were sold to Mr. Tony Stark. From the sleek fit of a light grey, three piece suit and bright pink tie, Stark had a brighter outlook on the window of his underhand activities. He was the type that lounged back in the severity of his criminal dealings.

Unlike his fellow company who each wore darker palette suits of either navy blue or jet black. He stood out for sure as his auburn tinted glasses did little to hide the one question on his mind: Was his money well spent?

Well, to say at the very least, you wouldn’t be here tonight if you weren’t every single cent he spent on you three years ago. 

Thinking about the memory now, this is a different tone entirely. Dark and neon is how you remember the black market scene, stalls and cube stores with an assortment of supplies anyone in the business would need, whether that be for the amateurs - which were the usual target customers - or the smaller businesses which belonged to small cluster gangs. 

The big time runners had designated storehouses to spare where they obtained their supplies, and ran other dealings and hand-offs in and out of private rooms in the clubs. 

Here, the scene is warm, lavish and made for those who seek the comfort in living in marble halls and pristine white pillars, short cut grass and elaborate parties such as this one. 

“Shit, this party is awfully chipper for someone who died last week,” you huff, eyes scanning the crowd from the smooth, darkly polished bar, which you incidentally found very comfortable to lean back on when told for the hundredth time, “Just sit tight, just a little bit longer.” 

You didn’t have the time nor patience to sit around getting older by the damn minute. Thankfully, Tony put his card behind the bar so that meant an endless river of drinks. Because you needed the alcohol. A lot. 

Not a moment too late is your glass refilled with your refreshment.

“Please, Y/N,” sighs Steve from your right side, arms folded over his chest, navy blue suit straining just a bit too tightly against his body, “have some respect for the Maximoff family. They lost their only male heir to a deal gone wrong. They need our support.”

Your shoulders rise with a particular deep inhale before falling lax, you swirl the sliver of whiskey left in your glass and with a jerk of your wrist you finish it. Ice rattles in your glass as you shimmy it, indicating you need a refill and pronto. 

“People live, people die. You cross someone and you get shot in the back. It happens.” 

“He was gunned down in the streets with a fucking machine gun, Y/N. You consider that a mere oopsie?”

You shrug in response to Sam’s question with a pout of your bottom lip. “Pietro thought he was the shit. That’s what got him killed by Rumlow.” 

Sam runs a hand over his face, now distressed by the lack of sincerity you show for the grieving family. “For fuck sake…”

In the three years of your loyal work to the Stark family and those of his brotherhood - his allies - your colours shone through immensely to reveal a shining personality. Excluding the fact you’d become something of a playful rogue with the women. 

You simply chalk it up to your animal magnetism. Something that leaves them wanting more whenever in the presence of your company.

In fact, that was how Tony came to own unclaimed establishments and clubs in the boroughs, ones he wasn’t able to get his hands on before, but after he had you as a playable card in his fold, you provided club goers the relief of being harassed and drinks being spiked. Territorial take over schemes from rival gangs were second guessed when they saw you watching over the joint.

The after hour visits for your libido were just the perks. But you left a lot of lustful and broken little hearts in the wake of your work. 

For a werewolf, you were always assumed to be a means of security, and that much was true. Didn’t mean it excluded you from taking on other odd jobs for the families from time to time. Debt collection, assassinations, tailing and blackmail ops, the list is endless. 

When Steve casts a hardened stare your way and you mockingly raise your hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’ll offer my condolences to the heiress, but I ain’t weeping at her feet for her brother who got himself into that mess because he thought he was too big for his own shoes.”

“Just behave yourself, alright? The last thing we need is the entirety of Europe at war with us.” You roll your eyes and salute the captain. “Yessir.”

You bring the glass rim to your lips and draw a small gulpful of your refurbished liquor, the fiery taste rolls over your tongue, you savour it to keep your sanity intact lest you go insane from the waiting. Where was the heiress? 

“Well, well, I thought I wouldn’t see any of you again. Especially you.” Your head, as well as those of your group, direct their gaze to the new voice. The corners of your lips twitch up and you flash her a wolfish grin, chin tilting up slightly in your relaxed position against the bar. You looked like a cat happily laying in the sun. 

“Miss Romanoff,” each of the men greeted with a nod of their heads. You, however, pat your thigh as an invitation for her to sit. “I had work to do the next morning.”

“Mm, that’s what you tell the other girls, I’m sure.” You clap a hand to your chest with a wince. “You wound me, Sweetheart. If I had the chance, I would have stayed.” 

She hums but it’s obvious she doesn’t believe you by the rise in her brow. 

Natasha Romamoff is a hard fish to catch. One of the more established families that control practically the entirety of Europe, alongside the Maximoff family, the two were partners and crafting an empire strong enough to stand on their own without any dire need for support. 

Yes, her family had prior dealings with the brotherhood. The Starks, Wilsons, Barnes and Rogers and more, whether to collaborate on a bigger criminal project to the smaller portioned deals. Smuggled goods and weapons, blackmail intel deliverance, international bribery to keep the feds off your backs. But she never committed to joining forces. 

You suppose it’s a good power move on her part. She doesn’t have to abide by any of the family creeds, in the end, you’re all loose ends that may potentially be severed if need be. She had the ball in her court and the mysterious Maximoff heiress. 

Even your animal magnetism wasn’t enough to charm her into joining forces with Stark and his powerhouse of families, but they were surely enough to charm her into a wild one night stand. 

But as you told her. You had work to do. And now she appears to spurn you with her eyes and cruel words, but still entertains your flirtatious advances and indulges the empty space of your thigh.

For a well respected mob boss such as herself, she definitely liked to play it risky; dressing included. 

Last you saw her, she was dressed in a more professional manner. But here at this funeral party, whatever the fuck it was, she chose to wear a black, spaghetti strap cocktail dress that’s short enough to be skimming the mid of her thigh. The slit riding the dress up higher is just plain dangerous. 

She’s facing you, back arched and ass resting on the cliff of your knee. Your clawed hand supports her at the small of her back. Her perfume is strong and complimenting, the sweet bouquet of lavender rolls over the exposed tops of her breasts from her even more exposed neck. Her plump, red lips move in a way that’s hypnotic. “So I hear you’re going to be a bargaining chip for Wanda Maximoff.”

“Where’d you hear that?” you scoff with a flick of your chin. 

“I have spies who whisper to me,” she answers with a swift quirk of her brow. 

Of course she overheard the news. She then chuckles softly, and all eyes watch her with a level of suspicion. “She won’t take any deal you offer her. She’s determined to steer clear of your little gang wars over in the states.”

“Rumlow killed her brother and he has bases around our territories. Wouldn’t she appreciate the extra hands in catching the rat?” Bucky poses the question with a dark brow angled high and clenched jaw, the muscles in his cheeks flex harder when Natasha offers no affirmative response; a mark to hopefully land you in the door and good graces with the heiress. 

“You really think she wants a guard dog?” 

“Hey,” you growl with a wrinkle of your nose, fangs on the precipice of baring at her. How she used the term in a condescending manner made the fur beneath your skin bristle. Sam claps a hand to your shoulder, somehow able to sense the seething anger within you. 

“We just want to help. Offer support for her loss and bring Rumlow down.”

“No. You want a foothold in Europe. And I’m sorry but…” She looks you up and down, drinking in the sight of you and you know she can see you without your clothes on. “You’re not going to cut it, babe.”

She turns her body to make her getaway but you don’t let her slip away just like that. She gasps and looks to you with a furrowed glare when your arm circles her waist and tugs her back until she’s flush against you, the men in your company watch with trepidation of your next course of action.

“I will cut it because whether she wants to admit it or not, she needs us.”

Natasha’s eyes, true to her fashion, darken with a challenge. “You’re wasting your time. She’ll get Rumlow herself.”

“And if Rumlow plans to get her first?” For a moment you see the doubt cross her face. “That’s where she needs me.”

“Tony Stark.” Each of the men turn to the voice behind them and their once cool and collected selves turn rigid, nervous under the power one woman can hold so absolute, her green eyes scan each of their faces before they land on you. 

You finally look and meet her stare, still holding Natasha against you even as she tries to push away from you. 

“Unhand her,” the woman commands with an accented tongue. 

At first, you wanted nothing more than to play this out a little, see what makes this woman tick. But both Tony and Steve look at you, silent in their order, you sigh heavily and release Natasha. Once you do, she wastes no time in joining Wanda’s side with a bow of her head. 

“I hear that you wished to have an audience with me.” 

Wanda is the sole survivor of this ordeal. Her parents were assassinated two years ago and now her brother was killed. This is the stressed matter at hand, her empire could crumble to the ground, all that hard work put into the grave, because she’s being so fucking stubborn with this deal.

“I will not sign my family, nor any of my shares, to Stark Industries. Enough have I done to keep you out of the hands of law enforcement. I will handle Rumlow myself.”

This isn’t how any of you hoped this would go. The grief has made her stronger than before. It wasn’t exactly you were waiting for the chance for her to have a weak spot and try your luck, but you all had thought she might even be at least a little desperate for extra help. 

Natasha’s face says it all: I told you so. You can only roll your eyes and resume with what you’re doing. 

“Miss Maximoff, we only wish to help you. All we ask in return is that you grant us some territory to work with for our trade deals as payment for support lent to you to catch Rumlow.”

Thank you for Reading! (◕ ᴥ x)

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST — (Even though I doubt this is worth putting the taglist on, here it is anyway)

@alexawynters

#female reader #gn reader #male reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x werewolf! reader #werewolf reader #marvel #wanda x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #werewolf #mafia au #mafia wanda maximoff #mafia natasha romanoff #mafia reader #wanda maximoff x werewolf reader #old draft #concept scrap #dem's updates #wanda x y/n

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

Mob Rules | Mafia AU | Reader x ...everyone

Bucky and Steve have banned girlfriends in the gang, but they're not cruel, they know their crew works hard and needs to let off steam sometimes...and that's when your hard work starts.

Warnings: 18+ for sexual content, language and themes now and throughout this AU

Follow @illyrianlibrary for updates!

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

Bucky - Cockwarming

The room was completely silent. Each of the assembled crew around the table staring at Cap and Sarge. 

You didn’t really want anyone else in the room, you had been quite happy, sprawled on the large blanket under the table, moving between your new masters in turn. You had been licking a long stripe up Bucky’s hard cock when the first knock sounded, jolting you from your soft state into one of panic. 

Tucking himself away, Bucky had shouted ‘enter’ allowing a seeming herd of other people into the room. 

Sensing your nervousness, Steve had placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your bottom lip until you sucked the digit into your mouth, once more content to rest between them while they carried out their business. 

“Is this real, or a trick?” The man’s voice was like thunder, loud but clear. You couldn’t tell who was talking yet, only seeing a series of shoes, combat boots and a few loafers, one pair of battered trainers…you closed your eyes, sucking harder on Steve’s thumb and focussing on the polished shoes in front of you, one brown pair, one black pair, Steve and Bucky, Sir and Sarge, that was all you needed to worry about.  

“It’s not a trick, Thor.” Steve rolled his eyes, “we know we brought that rule in, no girlfriends.” 

A disgruntled murmur ran around the room, none of the men willing to vocalise how frustrated and angry they’d been since. 

Bucky slammed his palm onto the table and the room went quiet again, you jumped clinging to his calf, but remained where you were. 

“We brought the rule in, now we’re fixing it, but only if you're polite.” He growled.

“C’mon out, Bambi.” Steve and Bucky pushed their chairs back and Steve held out a hand to you, the ring on his pinky finger flashing in the afternoon light. 

Placing one hand slowly in front of the other you crawled out from underneath the table, one hand on Steve’s thigh, one on Bucky’s. The latter reached down, cupping your chin in his large, tattooed hand and pinched your cheeks. 

“Good girl, now say hello to the crew.” 

You turned, kneeling high enough that your head and shoulders peeked over the top of the walnut table, resting your chin on one hand you raised the other in a wave, “hello.” You whispered, nervously eyeing the array of men and women sitting around the long conference table.

You’d been worried ever since Cap’ and Sarge had informed you that your world would be expanding outside of their closed off penthouse, but now you felt that familiar throb of longing deep between your legs. They were handsome, your masters’ friends, so perhaps this wouldn’t be so awful after all. 

Bucky tucked a palm under your elbow and helped you stand, your feet wobbly after your time spent kneeling at his feet. Your heels tipped you forward slightly and you crossed your arms behind your back to steady yourself, pushing your chest out at the same time. A collective intake of air rippled around the room and, you supposed, that was to be expected given your scanty attire. 

Steve had wanted you to make a good impression and had chosen a soft pink babydoll with plenty of ribbons and bows. You certainly felt like a doll once they’d finished dressing you up but you loved it, loved that you didn’t have to make any decisions anymore. You let your wide eyes take in the room again, the hungry looks in everyone’s eyes. 

“Bambi, the family -” Steve gestured to the assembled group, “family, Bambi.” 

There was a chorus of replies, hellos and good mornings before the room went quiet again.

“Well, we don’t have much work to do today, so -” Bucky looked up at you, his hand on your hip protectively, “get to know everyone, okay. Take your time.” His smile was soft, but dropped from his face when he looked back at the rest of the family, “as for you, be polite.” Bucky glared around the room, “and remember to play nicely.” 

Vote on the next part HERE!

#Mafia AU #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Loki #Natasha Romanoff #ari levinson #Nick Fowler #joaquin torres #Thor #Mickey Henry #Steven Grant #marc spector #jake lockley #Sam Wilson #Andy Barber #valkyrie #Jake Jensen #wanda maximoff #Frank Castle #Maria Hill #Kraven the Hunter #Colin Shea #Max Sharper

[delulu-with-wandanat]

ayo i have a request! platonic mob boss!natasha and single mother female reader! nat is a mob boss who is known to be heartless and merciless. reader is struggling financially and decides to take a loan from nat’s mob, which she can’t pay back. she’s taken by nat’s men and beaten, but then when nat sees reader out of place among the drug dealers and crackheads, she takes pity on reader, forgives her debt and protects her, as well as helping reader out financially. kinda like older sister protective vibes

THANK YOU I love all your writing!!

Alternative Proposition-

A/n: Awww thank you! I'm sorry this took a while, life finally catch up on me and I'm find myself writing less and less. I never actually dipped into mob au's beforee so, sorry if anything is out of place. I'm actually a little scared of posting this ngl- :')) I try to not give the daughter a name, only like a nickname so you can decide it for yourself. Anywayy, I hope you like it!!

Reader Description: She/her, single mother, mid 20s.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (Platonic), Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff (Romantic).

Warnings 18+: Mature themes, mentions of drugs, violence, crimes, (idk what else i need to put tbh), threat, use of guns.

Summary: Struggling to take care her 5 year old daughter, Y/n took out a loan from the mob to start a small business in hopes that it would resolve their financial struggles. But small businesses takes time to flourish, which Y/n doesn't have and ends up biting her in the ass... or did it?

PUNCH!

Right on the stomach. The man tugged her from behind so she would stand up straight.

TWACK!

Christ, her nose was probably broken now. Perhaps she should've known better than to follow her friend's advice.

"Fucking bankers..." Y/n said out of frustration. Her appeal to take out a loan was rejected once again. At this rate she might have to finally settle for just working double time and barely making ends meet for her and her daughter. Suddenly, she hears her neighbor next door arguing and smashing god knows what.

For fuck sakes, again?

Gun shots can be heard from out the window, a few minutes later a police sirens follow through. The neighbor above blasting music and making noises on what could only be... something.

Her heart ached as he mind raced to the 5 year old sleeping in her room. No, she deserves a better life, a better living condition, a better future. She has to find a way, there has to be. The front door flew open and her friend walked in with a dopey smile.

"You look like you could use a happy sniff!" Y/n only rolled her eyes at her friend.

"I'm way past that, and you know it. Besides, those things are bad for you." Y/n responded without even looking.

Her friend plopped down beside her on the couch with an exaggerate groan. "You've gotten so boring since she was born. We used to have so much fun, no?"

"Grown out of it," She looks at her friend. "So should you."

Kate then rested her head on Y/n's shoulder, looking over her notes. "Bank denied you again?" She said almost mockingly with a pout.

"It's so stupid. I just need some cash to start this business, I did the numbers and the market is huge! Yet, none of them are willing to even listen at all..."

Kate then repositions herself to rest her head on the arms of the sofa. "You're asking the wronggg people." She giggled. Clearly high on drugs.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I know someone who could help you. Actually... I know someone who KNOWS someone. No questions asked, just gotta pay them back on time."

"No questions asked? Sorry, Kate, but that sounds really shady." Y/n is too tired to even listen to her.

"Give it a tryyyy. You're confident about your business?" Y/n nodded. "What's the worst that could happen?" Kate concluded. Perhaps she was right, that what it takes to start a successful business no? Take a risk-

TWACK!

Famous last words. She did in fact took out a pretty huge loan, and promised to pay once a month with interest. Very high interest. Even though Kate was right, they asked no question whatsoever, the risk was also extremely deadly-

SMACK!

-right on the jaw this time. "I was late, I'm sorry. Please I promise I will-"

TWACK!

"We've heard that excuse many times before." The man said with a thick Slavic accent. He grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged it harshly so she would face her. "And when you take out a money that big, the boss doesn't play around."

TWACK!

"Please..." The poor woman pleaded. "I swear-"

"Swear on your life? That is what we will take." Instead of a punch, the platinum haired man pulled out a gun, Y/n felt her stomach dropped the moment he pointed the gun to her head.

"Wait, wait!"

"Hold." She heard the other man who was holding her from behind spoke. "We're needed elsewhere."

"Now??"

"Just put the rat back in her cell, we'll deal with her and the rest later."

The blonde man hesitated for a few second before putting away his gun. He bent his body to her eye level and spoke, "You are one lucky son of a bitch."

Y/n was put back in the filthy place. Among with all the other hostages they have taken and beaten. She grunts at every single move she makes, every part of her body was extremely sore with the amount of punching she had endured.

The warehouse was dark, there was only one source of light, it was now probably almost midnight, fuck she needs to get home. She asked Kate to babysit her daughter, which was probably not the best course of action as Kate was quite a heavy drug user. But fuck she didn't have anyone to go to.

Kate will take care of her right? Well, she was... She wasn't addicted, but- Oh fuck her mind is running a mile minute.

She doesn't know how long time has passed as all she could think about was her daughter. Her sweet little bug. "Be safe, please, please be safe."

Oh god, what if Kate uses drugs in front of her? Come on, Kate was the one helping Y/n throughout the pregnancy, she would be more mature than that. Then again drug addicts are selfish- No, Kate is not like that. Kate adores Y/n's daughter, even going as far as supporting this business so the little bug would have a better future.

But what if Kate-

Y/n perked up at the sound of a door opening. Heavy sets of footsteps could be heard walking in her direction. "Cut the crackheads fingers as a warning, that oughta teach them." Y/n shivers at the woman's command. "Their debt remains, any late payments will be paid by their hand."

"What about the dealer?" Her men asked.

"Kill him, he went against our terms and conditions. Make him suffer." Y/n heard a unanimous 'Understood.' This woman definitely held a high power among all of them.

"And Stark's men?" Another one of her soldier asked. There was a beat of silence as the woman weighted her decision.

"Send him our... parcel. He'll understand." Whatever it is, Y/n is sure it's not what is implied.

She heard a few cells opening, some of the hostages cried and plead for their life. "I have nothing to do with this!" The man screamed. "It was Mr. Stark's order-"

"Stark and I, despite our rivalry, have mutual respect with each other." The powerful boss spoke again. "Though I won't be surprised if the orders did in fact came from him."

"Please..." The hostage started crying. "Please, I- I have kids-"

"And a wife?"

"Y-yes."

"Good. At least there's someone to take care of them." Fuck this woman is a sadist.

The poor man continued to thrash and screamed, yet he was no match in his condition and the strength of his taker. His screaming gradually disappears as they take him god knows where. And finally, the woman came into view as she stood just outside of her cell.

Y/n had pushed herself into a corner, hugging herself, knowing she would be next. And from what she has heard, there was no way of convincing a woman who holds such power and fear. Reality dawned on her that she had failed her daughter, her sweet 5 year old bundle of joy.

I'm sorry, bug...

The red headed woman studied the hostage before her. Seems like her men had taken her after she had finished her shift, Y/n was still wearing her waitress uniform.

"It's the one that took out the big loan." Another woman with blonde hair told the boss. Y/n notes she has a thick Russian accent.

"And?"

"She claims the purpose was to start a food and beverage business. Late payments, but I doubt the business even took place. I haven't seen or heard any new establishment in the area." The blonde woman explained.

The boss narrows her eyes. Y/n refused to speak or even look at them in the eye. As the red headed women was about to decide her fate, they heard a phone ring. Y/n's head turned to the source of the ringtone, it was her phone. "Shut that phone." She told her men.

"No wait!" All eyes turned to Y/n as the hostage finally spoke for the first time. "Please, that's mine. It might have something to do with my daughter..."

The goons gave the boss Y/n's phone. The woman looked at the caller id, "Kate."

"That's my friend, she's babysitting her. I just need to know if she's alright." The blonde and red haired woman shared a look, they've seen this before. Last act of desperation to seek help.

Finally, the boss bent down to her level beckoning Y/n to get closer from her position. Y/n hesitantly crawled closer so she was able to speak to the phone. Before the boss answered the phone, she looked at Y/n dead in the eye. "Any attempts, I will track this caller id. Understood?"

The boss didn't have to elaborate further, Y/n nodded while shivering in fear. The woman then accepted the call, and put it on speaker. "Mama??" A little girl's voice could be heard.

"Hey there, bug!" Y/n responded with fake enthusiasm. It was very convincing, even an adult wouldn't notice anything. "What are you doing up so late huh?"

"I'm waiting for you! You promised me movie night." The little girl said sadly.

"Awww, I know bug. Something came up at work, and I needed to work extra hours. But how about this, I'll make it up to you and we'll go somewhere special on your birthday, how does that sound?" Y/n spoke, her heart aching as she was making fake promises to her daughter. After all, the mob would most likely take her life.

"Yey!!! Aunty Kate, did you hear that?" It seems like the little girl was so happy at the idea. Y/n can imagine her daughter running to Kate in their tiny apartment excitedly to tell her the news. She then heard Kate responding as excitedly to the little girl. This is her chance.

No. She can't put her friend in danger. Even though that idiot gave her the stupid idea- No, I made the decision.

"Kate, it's already midnight. Can you make sure she sleeps please?"

"Aww, it's weekend! I'm sure she can stay up once a while with her aunty." Kate responded over the phone.

"I gotta go." Y/n said after noticing some of the goons growing impatient. "And Kate..."

There was a beat of silence, would she do it?

"Please remember to restraint yourself." Kate could be heard signing on the other side of the phone.

"You know I would never do that in front of bug. I promise, I'll take care of her. Just come home safe ok?" Kate understood Y/n's fear. And Kate knew better than to use drugs around children's proximity. In fact, she wasn't using the addictive substance as much as she used to... Only when she party that is-

"Of course. See you." The red haired woman then ended the call. She wasn't going to lie, she was quite impressed at this hostage. Perhaps this girl was something else...

-

Natasha came home way past midnight, it wasn't unusual for her of course. Though she does sometimes wishes to leave the crime life completely. Well, sometimes was an understatement, she wants to leave the crime life and focus on her own family. However, her sister was far from ready and there were numerous business she had to resolve first.

Then again, perhaps that was just an excuse. The cycle would never end. There's always something coming up, and she was the one the city held respect and fear for. By the end of the day, Natasha wasn't even sure if this life would leave her completely.

It was tied to her like an anchor.

She sighed and walked over to the master bedroom quitely. When she opens the door, she found her wife already fast asleep. She made her way to the bathroom, changed her clothes into something far more comfortable. She opted to skip her nighttime routine, and walked out of the bathroom.

Her wife had moved in her sleep, and it seems like she is awake. A small smile appeared on Natasha's face. "I didn't mean to wake you up." The mob boss said apologetically.

"The Americans would say, old habit dies hard." Wanda responded with a sleepy smile. Natasha soon joined her on the bed, giving her wife a loving kiss on her lips, and the slope of her nose. Despite being married for a couple of years, it warms Wanda's heart at Natasha's actions.

For someone who have gained the reputation of being merciless, she was so gentle on the people she loves.

"Everything alright, darling?" Wanda asked, she knew there was always something in this line of business. But really, what else was she supposed to ask?

"Same old, same old." Natasha answered as she settles on the bed next to her. Wanda then nuzzles onto Natasha like she always does every single night. "I'm getting too old for this."

Wanda chuckles, "Well, Yelena is next in line."

"Oh please, she her patience is as thin as a baby hair. She wouldn't last a 30 minute meeting." Natasha then starts to rub small circles on Wanda's back. "And you?"

"Just the usual, took the boys to school. They're already asking me if they could get their own car now that they're in middle school." Natasha let out a small chuckle.

"I hope they know they have save up their own money for that."

"I doubt it." The two women shared a laugh and fell into a comfortable silent. It was nights like these that Natasha adored. She may ruled the city, and had resources the average person can't imagine, but all she wanted was simple nights in the arms of the woman she loves.

Crazy to think how they met each other, all those years ago. When Natasha was only a second in command and Melina was ruling the mob, and Wanda was just a single mother trying to get by. Just like-

"Your thoughts are loud, detka." Wanda said, her wife truly knows her inside and out. "Care to share?"

Natasha lets out a sigh before continuing, "There was this girl, probably in her mid 20s." Wanda stayed silent, listening to her wife. "She reminds me of you..."

Wanda pulled away slowly to look at Natasha in the eye, "Natalia... If this is your way of asking us to open our marriage-"

"Excuse me, how did you even come to that conclusion?" God no, Natasha never even had that thought.

"Well when you start with that kind of sentence..." Natasha only rolled her eyes and pulled Wanda back into her arms.

"No, It's not that." She sighed, trying to find the right words. "I'm just..." She trails off once again. Wanda waited patiently for her wife to form her words, except Natasha ended up letting out a soft chuckle. "I think I'm just getting too old and too soft for this."

Wanda made herself more comfortable on Natasha's chest, listening to her heartbeat. Something she finds rather comforting. "You kept your heart. That is something I love the most about you." She shifted slightly so she could look at her wife in the eye. "But moreover I think that is something Melina would be so proud of..."

Natasha's heart warmed at Wanda's words. She pulled Wanda into a soft kiss, pouring the immense love she had for the woman before her. Natasha's hand gently cupped her wife's face, she held her ever so carefully as if Wanda was the most precious and delicate flower to ever exist.

--

Y/n waited, and waited.

She glanced at the clock, and then back to the front door. Still no one...

She heard a groan from Kate and looked at her friend/co-worker now. "Where are all the people..." She whined as she waited at one of the empty seats.

"It's ok. There's time like these, we just have to be patient." Y/n responded optimistically, even though deep inside she was screaming. The restaurant barely made enough to be self-sufficient. Despite it being small, and having herself as the staff with the occasional help of Kate, all of the profit had gone to running the business.

Moreover, she has to pay back the mob.

Fuck... "Kate, what day is it?"

Kate quickly checked her phone, "Friday. Why??"

Shit... shit, shit, shit. Her next payment was due tonight. She opened the register to check on the cash she had separated to make the payments. Y/n hastily re-counted the money and found that she was still $1000 short, "Fuck-"

"What's wrong?" Kate asked upon noticing her friend's frustration.

"Nothing..." Y/n sighed, no point in panicking now. She rubbed her temple and started giggling out of the immense frustration she was in. "Out of curiosity, is there a way to make $1000 in less than 6 hours?"

"We could always turn to crime."

"Few years ago I would've agreed, but I have a daughter to take care of." Calming herself down, she puts the money back and closed the cashier. "I need to pick up bug soon, you think you can manage on your own?"

"Don't underestimate me..." Y/n only gave Kate a look as she walks towards the cashier, "I will man the fort."

Y/n merely chuckles and took her bag, she gave Kate a quick hug. She has been such a great help, the definition of true friends lie on none other than Kate Bishop. "Thank you, I'll be quick!" Y/n said as she made her way out of the restaurant.

--

"-And I made a new friends!" The little one said as she held her mother's hand on the way to the shop.

"That's wonderful, bug!" Y/n responded as enthusiastically. Relief that her daughter was doing well on her first day of elementary school, not that she ever doubted her daughter's capability. In contrast to Y/n, her daughter was much more outgoing than she was when Y/n was younger.

"Maybe I can invite them to the restaurant!" Y/n chuckles at her statement.

"Well you know what? Tell them I will give their family a VIP service." The little bug scrunch up her nose in confusion, she look up to her mother.

"What's a VIP??" She asks, just before they entered the shop. Y/n bent down to her level with an adoring smile.

"VIP means, 'Very-Important-Person'. And because they're your friends. They're important, don't you think so?" The little girl nodded her head as her mother explained, "Meaning they'll get special treatments."

It was like a lightbulb switched on inside the little one's head. "Oh! I get it!!"

"My brightest star." Y/n said while ruffling her head, "Come on, let's head inside. Aunty Kate might need some back up."

The two entered the shop to find Kate talking to a customer. Oh thank god. Their back was facing Y/n, once Kate noticed Y/n she perked up. "Oh! Y/n, you're just in time. This is our owner, and the mastermind behind all these amazing dish!" Well, gotta give the enthusiasm to Kate.

The customer turned around and Y/n felt chills down her spine.

"So I see." The same powerful woman spoke. Y/n tensed up, but the little hand she was still holding kept her grounded. "Y/n, was it?"

"Y-yes." She cleared her throat. No, nononono, the payment was still in a few hours. Well, she was still short a $1000. Fuck, fuck, fuck-

The redhaired woman shifter her eyes downward to look at Y/n's daughter. "And who might you be?" She asked the little girl kindly. Was it genuine? Y/n doesn't even know.

"My mom and aunty calls me bug!" The girl said excitedly. "I like your hair."

The mob boss laughed, "Thank you! I like your little braid. Did your mother did that for you?" Oh well, she's surprisingly good with kids?? Such a stark contrast to the one Y/n met at the warehouse-

"Yeah!" The little girl giggled.

"I'm having trouble choosing something to eat. Since I have the owner and I'm assuming the chef, perhaps you could recommend me something?" The woman asked.

Y/n snapped back to reality, "U-uh, well... Our uhm the-" Speak, SPEAK, why am I so-

"Oh, oh!" Her daughter excitedly ran up to the dangerous boss, she went on her tiptoes to take the menu off the counter. "You should get this one! It's my favorite and my mom makes it the best."

"I will take your word for it." The woman said with a kind smile, she turns to Kate. "I'll take the recommendation from this little one. I'll sit in that corner."

"We'll be right with you, ma'am!" Kate said, obviously oblivious to who this woman is.

Fuck.

--

Y/n hand shook as she plated the food for the mafia boss, Kate noticed it and giggles. She clearly doesn't realize how bad the situation is.

"Hey relax, boss." She nudges her friend, Y/n only let out a nervous chuckle. "Alright, I'll take it from here." As Kate was about to take the plate to serve, Y/n stopped her.

"I got it, why don't you go stand by the cashier in case any more customers comes in." Thankfully for Y/n, Kate agreed and went back to her station. As much as she would like to avoid the mob boss at any cost, she doesn't want Kate to be involved further.

Y/n walks towards the table with food in hand, the woman was sitting by the corner looking out the window. Heart stammering in her chest as fear and anxiety tried to take over her body, what did this woman want?

"Your food, ma'am." Y/n sets the plate with shaky hands.

"Oh, thank you. It looks delicious." The redhead said turning to face Y/n with a smile. Just as Y/n was about to leave, the lady stopped her. "Hold on just a minute, I wouldn't mind the company of the owner herself. Take a seat." It sounded more like a demand than a request.

Y/n took a deep breath and sat across from her. The woman took a sip of her drink, still looking out the window. Maybe I should've poisoned her food or something-

"I believe I haven't introduced myself." The woman's voice took Y/n out of her trance. She looked up to see her staring back at her. "Natasha, pleasure to meet you under... better circumstances." Natasha offered her hand to shake.

Y/n reached out, hand still visibly shaking a little as she shook her hand. "Y/n, although I'm sure you knew that already."

Natasha only nod, she then picked up a fork and a knife and started eating her food. After the first bite, she lets out a soft laugh. "Your daughter wasn't lying when she said this was the best."

Y/n could only force a smile as multitude of things ran in her head. Was she here to execute her? Did she know that Y/n was still a few dollars short? Was this a genuine interest in her food or was she here for business?

"How's business so far?" There it is.

Y/n sighed and looked around at the empty restaurant. "We've had better days."

Natasha only raised an eyebrow as she continues eating her food. "So I see."

There was a few minutes of silence as Y/n waited for Natasha to speak further, however, it seems like the other woman was just simply enjoying her food.

"I have to say I am incredibly impressed with your cooking." She said as she wiped her lip with a napkin and set aside her cutleries.

"Thank you, I learned it from my mother."

Natasha nodded and fixed her posture as she set the plate to the side to rest her hand on the table. "I'm sure you know why I'm here. It's strictly business." Y/n took a deep breath, but before she could say anything Natasha cuts her off. "Although, seeing the state of your establishment, I'm assuming It's barely making anything to run itself."

"I- I promise you I can-" Y/n stammered.

"Oh don't make promises you can't keep, Y/n."

"This month's payment might be a lower but I swear it just takes-"

"I've thought so." Oh god, what has she gotten herself into. Her chest started to feel heavy, something felt like it was stuck on her throat. Y/n couldn't utter a single word. She was a dead woman...

"Which is why I would like to offer you an alternative proposition." Natasha as she leans back against the chair. Y/n who was still in the state of fear only looked at her. "I would like to turn your debts into an investment."

...I'm sorry, "W-what?"

"I would like to invest in your business instead, I see great potential. It should help lighten the burden." Whoa, what??

"I- What's the catch?" Natasha only laughs, not one of those evil laughs, just... laughed.

"I get 20% share of your profit, but to say that's a catch would be misleading as that is just the nature of investment."

Y/n thought for a moment, this wasn't so bad. No, actually it was great. Instead of having debts, she only need to pay Natasha a share of the profit that the restaurant made.

"That's... a very generous offer, Natasha. Thank you. Although, may I negotiate?" Natasha smirked slightly at the sentence and nodded, she liked this girl. Normally people would take the offer without any hesitation, so to have someone negotiates back was refreshing. "I think 20% is too high, how bout 10%?"

"Hmmm, that's too low for me. How about you and I meet in the middle, 15%?" Y/n nod and Natasha had a satisfied smile on her face. This time, it was Y/n who reached out her hand.

"We have a deal."

--

To say the mob boss was being generous was an understatement, but Y/n wasn't going to ask questions. It helped elevated the financial burden a little, as she did not have to pay a fixed price every month. If the business soars Natasha gets a good cut of the revenue, it it fails, well they fall together.

What's weird was Y/n had expected for there to be a catch, maybe even have Natasha suddenly barging in and run the business however she likes. Or making some sort of speakeasy underneath her restaurant, or anything crime related really. But she never did, in fact, Natasha became a regular at the restaurant. She comes by once or twice every week, one time she even comes with a lovely lady who Y/n quickly learned was her wife.

Natasha's wife, Wanda, was a truly lovely lady. Overtime, Wanda stops by more often on her own. Although truth to be told, Y/n had a feeling they adored her daughter the most as bug truly was the ray of sunshine in the restaurant.

Doorbell chimes through the restaurant, the little bug excitedly dings the bell on the cashier counter top informing the kitchen of an incoming order.

"Ms. Wanda's specials!" The little girl said loudly, causing Wanda to giggle slightly at the scene. Y/n comes out of the kitchen door to greet her as she was in the middle of cleaning up.

"Wanda, good to see you again! Your usual?"

Wanda smiled and nodded. "For me, as always. Another one of the same for my wife, and 2 dish of your recommendation for my boys please."

"Anything in particular?" Y/n asked.

Wanda hummed for a moment, before glancing at Y/n's daughter who's practically bouncing on her little feet to make the decision for her. She then smiles and said, "I'll let the little chef surprise me."

Bug beamed upon hearing her sentence, Y/n smiled at her daughter and gave her an encouraging nod. She pulled down her mother to her level and whispered her recommendation. Y/n then pulled away and playfully gave her a salute, "Right on it, chef!"

As Y/n was walking back to the kitchen she heard her daughter yelling, "And be quick, it's for our VIP!"

She was glad her daughter seems to make the restaurant her own little playground, most of the costumers adored her too whenever bug was around. She wishes that her daughter could go out more often and wasn't forced to be stuck in the restaurant as much as she is now.

As time goes by the restaurant started to gain more and more exposures around the neighborhood and Kate has been a big help through it all. Arguably it was good for her too, as she used her spare time to work instead of partying and doing drugs.

Many more months have passed, and their popularity continues to rise and rise to the point where Y/n NEEDED to hire a cook helper and a waitress. She was grateful to say the least, but she wonders if the mob boss had something to do with it.

Y/n noticed that she had seen one of the customers being the one that kidnapped her, she was terrified for a minute only for the same platinum haired man to apologize and leave her with a huge, and I mean HUGE tip. She found out that his name was Pietro and he was surprisingly a funny, cocky, yet quite the gentleman.

The other one was the blonde woman that stood next to Natasha. However, at that time she was rather busy in the kitchen so Kate was the one who interacted with her the most. She didn't learn much about the blonde woman, only that her name was Yelena and that Kate seems to have a big crush on her.

She starts to wonder if half of her customers were affiliated with Natasha's mob. There were times when Natasha came by with a group of people, was it for a business meeting or whatnot she doesn't know. She doesn't even want to know. One thing for sure, Y/n's perception of Natasha changed. The initial impression of Natasha being a cold, heartless, merciless woman was gone, it turns out Natasha has a heart of gold.

From spreading the word about her restaurant, to giving huge tips every time she eats, refusing on-the-house meals and paying more than what her bill stated. To even, at least to Y/n's assumption, keeping the area of her restaurant safe. It wasn't confirmed by any means, but Y/n had a gut feeling Natasha had something to do with it.

--

All in all, business was great and was making enough for her to profit from it as well. She can now take her daughter out occasionally and not having to worry about starving herself in process.

Today was rather slow than usual, thank god...

She probably shouldn't as a business owner, but damn girl needs a room to breathe sometimes. Calm before the storm they said, and Y/n was going to use it to her advantage and catch up on her book as she waits for the next customer.

A good few minutes into her book, the door bell rings. Y/n looks up and put on her smile at the customer. Kate called in sick today and their waitress was having a day off, so Y/n had to cover both for both. "Welcome! What can I do for you on this fine day?"

"Hi there." The woman with a black hair said with a kind smile. "I heard this was the new hotspot in town. What would you recommend me?"

"Well that depends, are we looking for somethings sweet or savory?"

"Hmmm...." The woman scanned the menu quickly. Finally she looked up and said, "I'm feeling adventurous, surprise me."

Y/n smiled, "Take a seat anywhere you like, I'll be right with you." The customer thanked her and sat by the corner. From the corner of her eye, she could she the woman seems to be observing the restaurant. It wasn't weird by any means, maybe she's just one of those food bloggers.

Nah, she's dressed so formal to be a food blogger. Oh, shit... is that a food critique? We'll let's impress her.

After a few minutes, Y/n goes to her table. "This is one of our favorites." She said as she set the plate on the table, "And this is a complimentary drink, it's on the house."

"That's very kind of you." The black haired woman said. "Say how long has this place been established?"

"Oh we've just opened a couple of months ago."

"The owner certainly has an exquisite design taste." Y/n smiled at the compliment.

"Thank you! It was highly inspired by my heritage." The woman raised her eyebrow.

"I take it you are the owner?" Y/n nodded. "Wow! Congratulations on your business! The food looks amazing, please, would you mind joining me? I would love to listen more to your stories."

"Certainly!" Y/n took a seat in front of her, she was used to this, sitting and talking to different customers. It helps build relationship and making them a regular. "Are you new around this area?"

The woman chuckles, "No, I know this city like the back of my hand. My name is Maria Hill, pleasure to meet you." Maria offered her hand to shake.

"Likewise, I'm Y/n." The two shook hands and Maria leaned back on her seat.

"I'm guessing you're not originally from here?"

"No, my family and I migrated to the US when I was younger." Maria hummed again as she stared Y/n down, honestly Y/n was feeling rather uncomfortable. It was like she was... observing her, maybe even assessing her?

One thing for sure, Y/n was starting to get really bad vibes.

Maria suddenly let's out a small laugh, "Perhaps I should be more frontal." She fixed her posture and leaned her elbows on the table. "I was going to ask you sooner or later."

Oh god, what is it? Am I getting deported??

"Are you aware of an individual named Natalia Alianovna Romanova?"

Y/n twisted her head in confusion. "No, that doesn't seem to ring a bell."

"What about Natasha Romanoff?" The woman continued to prod. Well, she only knows one Natasha, she's a-

"I'm sorry, I just-" Y/n was confused, "What is this all about? Are you a health inspector or an immigration officer because-"

Maria raised her hand to stop Y/n, "No, neither of those." Y/n raised an eyebrow. "I'm an FBI agent."

Oh...

"I've been investigating an organized crime for the past few years."

Oh, fuck.

"You're not in trouble, Y/n. I merely require your assistance."

This isn't fucking calm before the storm-

"So are you or are you not," Maria took out a picture, a photograph of Natasha walking out of HER restaurant. "acquainted with this individual."

This is calm before a fucking typhoon. And she is in the middle of it.

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha x platonic!reader #black widow #natasha #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff mafia au #natasha x y/n #wanda maximoff #wandanat #wanda x natasha #wanda #wlw #natasha x wanda #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[abbatoirablaze]

Deal With The Devil Master List

The five boroughs in New York City are run by the five families.

Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Thor Odinson, Clint Barton, and the most dangerous of all, Steve Rogers.

But that's just where the story begins.

With Steve Rogers. The loud-mouthed kid who's charming, witty, and beyond manipulative.

He knows just how to get what he wants. And after hearing about the newest reason that the boroughs are up in arms, he wants his cut.

Inez Stark.

No one knew that Tony had a younger sister, That is, not until someone from his inner circle let it slip.

Peter's out, because he's Pepper's cousin.

And with Steve, Thor, and Clint all vying for the chance to get into the alliance between Peter and Tony, they all want her hand in marriage.

Only, Tony knows that.

He also knows that he can't protect his baby sister anymore. He has to make a deal with the devil.

Too bad Steve's number 2, Bucky Barnes fell in love with her first.

Chapters

The Hobbit

Negotiations

Expectations

Fiances

The Bachelor Party

Like A Dog

What Family Is For

Know Your Place

Blindfolded

Cuck

The Meaning Behind 'I Do'

Sex On The Beach, And Blitzed On A Binge

Stay

#marvel au #marvel #the avengers #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #tony stark #deal with the devil #steve rogers smut #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #ironman #thor odinson #thor #clint barton #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #peter parker #pepper potts #mob au #mafia au

[cr--books]

Chapter Two

Content warning: mommy kink, mention of being sold for sex, Macdonalds (it made me want maccies) innocent reader, shitty mom, angry nat, implied torture

Nat's POV

I drove me and my new baby home, my hand resting on her thigh rubbing circles, I felt small patterns on my hand and smirked slightly as her innocent little smile watched her fingers draw little shapes

"You okay baby" her head lifted and she smiled nodding at me with the same innocent smile, it was so cute

"Is my baby hunger we can stop to get you food" I smiled back at her watching as her eyes filled with confusion

"I already had food today I have to wait till tomorrow" she whispered, her finger never stopping tracing the patterns, I bite my tongue my grip on the steering wheel tightening, i wanted to turn around and kill her mother myself but I wanted to look after her first

"Baby your with mommy now you can eat whenever you wish" she cocked her head to the side and I felt myself getting wet from the cuteness

"Have you ever had ice cream" I smirked and nodded, when she pouted I had to stop myself from bending her over here and now, "can we get Icecream I've always wanted to try it" she bounced in her seat causing my hand to slide up a bit further

"Yes princess, I know the perfect place" She smiled and giggled

_______

"Welcome to macdonalds what can I get you" the mans voice called through

"Can I get two vanilla ice creams and a orange juice with a kids chicken nugget happy meal" I leaned out of my window

"That'll be £6.47 go to the first window to pay" the man sounded like he wanted to jump off a cliff, I couldn't blame him little kids were quite annoying

I picked up the food and drove home, y/n eating her fries quietly, a small grin on her face, as we got to my home I tapped my card on the security desk before the gates opened, I pulled up

Hopping out of the car, opening the door for y/n and taking her seatbelt off for her, she gripped my hand

"You have a really pretty home" she whispered into my ear, her hand never leaving mine, "how do you keep a house this big so clean" her eyes widened as she glanced around the room

"I hire people and pay them a hefty amount" she furrowed her eyebrows again

"But mother never paid me to clean" I bite my lip in order to stop myself from going back to her home

"Baby, mommy's gonna call thor, can you be a good girl and sit at the table" she nodded and walked over to the table

I sighed before getting my phone out calling thor, "yes boss?"

"Is the whore dead" my tone was harsh and I made sure, my new innocent dove hadn't heard, she hadn't

"No, boss, crying a lot, the husbands awake and not actually her husband, its lucky we got there when we did, y/n was about to be sold to a 65 year old man for sex" my nails dug into my thigh

"I want every man on that list tracked down and killed and bring them two to the basement, I'll deal with them"

Oh I'll deal with them

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #masterlist #natasha x you #reading #marvel #smut #natasha x y/n #mafianat #mafia #natasha natasha romanoff smut #natasha mafia #death #mommy

[haleyhunwritess]

Who is she?

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮 / 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟯

A/N: as always let me know if you have any requests and please show some love if you like my work🥺🥺🥺

Warnings: Mob!Bucky, arguing, crying, possessiveness, ANGST BUT ALSO FLUFF

You awaken entwined in your beloved Bucky's arms and sheets on a typical chilly fall Saturday morning. The wind is soft and comforting, and the sun is high in the sky. Despite the hazy clouds' leisurely movement, songbirds are chirping in the distance. He softly kissed your forehead before getting up to make his way over to the kitchen in only his boxers.

Soon, soft jazz began to echo through your apartment. The aroma of toast and bacon cooking filled the space as you walked down the stairs. You smiled as you saw Bucky cooking and humming along to the music, lightly chuckling at his silly little dance moves. At the sound of your beautiful laughter, he turned around, smirking at the sight of you wearing nothing but his shirt. He walked over to you, scooped you up, brought you over to the kitchen, and set you down on the kitchen counter. 

“Wait here like the good girl I know you are.” 

You reached for the coffee pot as he started to crack some eggs for the pancake batter, but he slapped your hand away with a nearby wooden spoon.  

“I thought I told you to wait.” He grumbled, sounding a bit harsh. You instantly withdrew your hand and looked down, fidgeting with your fingers. He sighed and continued cooking without saying anything. 

He had been acting strange ever since you confronted him about Natalia after overhearing him and Steve arguing in his study about a woman named Natalia. His eyes widened at your question, and his face turned furious as he asked why you were listening in on his private chats. Up until that point, you had never been afraid of Bucky, but his grip on your arm and his relentless shouting at you for failing to mind your own business gave you the chills. 

At first you were extremely upset, but as he apologized and sobbed in your arms about how stressful work had been lately, you couldn't help but feel bad for him. You forgave him because you believed he wouldn't act that way again and that the incident must have been due to stress. However lately, his behaviour had become increasingly controlling and possessive, and it had become so difficult that he even tried to convince you to quit your job so he could take care of you. You told him he was crazy to even suggest it and flat-out refused to do it. Upon hearing that, he threw his drink across the room, spilled whiskey and shards of glass all over the floor. As he reprimanded you for not listening, you cried out for his forgiveness throughout the whole night.

“Why don’t you ever listen? Why do you make me do this to you?”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you woke up and recalled the events from the night before. You winced as you arose from the bed, gathering the sheets around our naked body. The bruises and marks from the previous night were all over your body, making you gasp as you saw them in the mirror. 

You came to the conclusion that perhaps you needed a break from this relationship. Contrary to your expectations, he surprised you by agreeing that your relationship needed a break and expressed no anger. He stated that he was sorry and hoped that you’d be willing to forgive him soon. After two weeks apart, it became obvious to you that, despite his flaws, you loved him and couldn't bear to let him go. All those sleepy touches and delicate, midnight kisses, all those rare 'I love you's', the way he says your name in the morning, gentle and sweet, the way he moans your name when he comes burrowed their way into your heart.  Two nights ago, you showed up at his doorstep, and one of his men led you inside and up to his study. He hurried over as soon as he caught a glimpse of you and pulled you into his arms, muttering apologies while you sobbed softly on his shirt. He lifted you up without difficulty and carried you to his bedroom. He couldn't resist pushing you onto the bed before climbing on top of you to push his lips against yours. He kissed you as if it were his first time.   You kissed him back, intensely passionate and sad, while he tightened his hold on you. You missed him. You missed loving him. 

“I’m sorry, darling. I’m so sorry. Let me make it up to you.” And he did. He even agreed to stay at your apartment for a week without having his men follow him around and interrupt you all day. After you two snuck over to your apartment, he decided to turn his phone off, and had been ignoring calls from everyone for the past two days. He went above and beyond to make it up to you, and you were pleasantly surprised by that. 

Still, something didn't feel right. You couldn't quite put your finger on it. Was it simply the way he acted earlier when all you did was try to pour yourself a cup of coffee? Was it his possessive behaviour at dinner last night, when the waiter was shamelessly flirting with you? Or was it possible that he was returning to old habits? He did seem to regain a little of his controlling attitude after last night. You shook your head at the idea, decided it was most likely just paranoia, and returned to watching him prepare breakfast. 

When you were done with breakfast, you practically begged him to take you to the farmer's market. He groaned at the idea but didn’t have the heart to say no to you. As you moved down the aisles of the farmers market, your hips brushed against his as you were linked by your hands, fingers lazily wrapped within each other.  

“Bucky?” A redhead woman in a striking sundress approached you both, completely ignoring your presence. Bucky, on the other hand, was starting to look a bit nervous as she leaned in to give him a hug. The other woman smirked as you frowned at the scene and pulled him closer to you. 

“Hi, I’m Natalia. And you must be the woman who’s been screwing my husband.” Your eyes widened, and you pulled your hand away from Bucky’s as he cursed under his breath.

#mafia!bucky #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky barnes #mafia!bucky x reader #steve x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanoff

[sjsmith56]

Visitors, Chapter 3 - Eyes of the Father

Summary: Bucky has to deal with intruders at Lacey’s cabin. Recognized by them he has to leave but he advises her to call the FBI to arrest the four men. A month later, Lacey seeks out Steve Rogers for help.

Length: 5.2 K

Characters: Bucky, Lacey, Agent Jones, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, unnamed Russian mobsters.

Warnings: Violence, angst, anger.

❤️ ❤️ 💔

A hand on her mouth woke Lacey and she heard Bucky's voice whisper in her ear. "There's someone outside," he said. "I'm going to put my clothes on and check it out. Can you get into the attic by yourself and pull up the ladder?"

"Yes," she said, suddenly afraid. "You be careful."

"I always am," he replied and he went to his room quietly.

Lacey threw some clothes on and went out to the main room, pulling down the ladder and going up. She pulled the ladder up behind her and sat in the corner of the attic, near the window, trying to see what was going on outside. She did see one man, with a gun, when Bucky came up behind him unseen and unheard. He put the man into a chokehold, knocking him out. Then he disarmed him and pulled him into the bushes. She heard the sound of a door opening into the house and held her breath, afraid to move. The door opened again and there was the sound of a scuffle followed by silence. Several minutes later the door opened once more and she heard a muffled whisper in a language she couldn't recognize. There was another scuffle which lasted longer but again ended in silence.

A sound outside the window drew her attention and she watched as a big man with a shaved head came across the yard. He looked up at the window and she pulled back immediately, afraid she had been seen. A few minutes later the sound of the door to the attic being pulled down reached her ears and she heard someone coming up the ladder. Terrified, Lacey tried to hide herself in the darkness. A man's head peeked out from the opening, seeming to look right at her. It took all of her willpower not to scream. Suddenly he was pulled down and she could hear the sound of a brawl in the house. Creeping to the opening on her hands and knees she saw glimpses of Bucky, carrying a kitchen knife in his hand, as he fought the man. It was incredible to watch him. He was fast, brutal, and he fought like a demon against a man who was obviously skilled in this type of fighting. Bucky was so much more skilled in his fighting technique that it seemed he was almost playing with the man, waiting for the moment when he could take him down. He finally pinned the man down putting the knife through his palm, and into the floor. With his artificial hand Bucky punched him repeatedly until the man was unconscious before he stopped and sat back on his heels, his breathing barely noticeable. He looked up the stairs.

"Are you okay?" he called.

"Yes," she answered back.

"Do you have duct tape?" he asked. "They need to be immobilized until the FBI gets here. They're Russian and they were talking about the flash drive."

"In my desk," she said. "Do you want me to get it?

"No, stay up there for a bit," he replied. "I'll take care of it."

He opened her desk drawer, located the duct tape and began to hog tie the three men, frisking them to make sure they weren't carrying any other weapons. Then he went outside, found the fourth and carried him inside, hog tying him and frisking him as well. Only then would he allow her to come down, turning on the light so she could see. She looked at the four men then at Bucky.

"You took down four men and you're barely winded," she said, impressed.

"It's what I do," he replied, then he lifted a shirt on one of the men, showing her a distinctive tattoo. "Russian mob. Some of the mobs were involved in HYDRA as well, on the trafficking side, kidnapping people to be their slaves." The man with the shaved head came to and looked at Bucky then said "Soldat." Bucky said something in Russian back to him and looked back at Lacey. "I told him I don't do that anymore. He recognized me. It means I'm going to have to leave. They can't get word to HYDRA that I was here. I'm sorry. You need to go to your mom's house as soon as you can or they'll come back for you and for the drive."

She nodded. "I guess this is goodbye then," she said, looking down.

He raised her chin with his hand. "I'm sorry," he said again, gently. "The less you know about my plans the better. You may have to sell this place otherwise they'll watch you to see if I return."

"What will I tell the FBI about these four?" she asked.

"The truth," he replied. "They won't believe you outsmarted four Russian heavies so tell them it was me. Then tell them I left right away and you don't know where I went. Phone them right now. They'll send a small army to deal with these four."

She nodded and phoned Agent Jones again to tell him she was just saved by Bucky Barnes from four Russian mobsters. He practically yelled into the phone, telling her to stay put. Bucky went into the bedroom while she spoke to Jones. Once she hung up she went to the room and saw he had packed his backpack. He stepped forward, pushed the door closed, and grasped her by the shoulders touching her cheek softly then kissing her deeply. He went to the window, opened it and climbed out. As she looked outside she spotted him near some bushes in the distance. Turning back he blew her a kiss then he disappeared into the bushes. With a sob, she felt as if part of her insides had been ripped out.

Returning to the living room the man who had spoken to Bucky looked at her. "The soldier belongs to HYDRA," he said in heavily accented English. "When they get him back they will send him to kill you and he will because it was what he was programmed to do. You can run but the soldier will find you. He always does."

"Fuck you," she replied and the man smirked at her bravado.

Sitting with the Russians waiting for the FBI to arrive gave her the creeps by itself, but it was almost worse as the bald headed man watched her every move. The other three, once they came to, also watched her in a way that was unnerving. They spoke with each other in Russian and several times laughed, making Lacey think they were talking about her and not in a respectful way. She was glad Bucky had taped them up making it impossible for them to get loose. Twenty long minutes later three black vehicles and a paddy wagon with lights flashing pulled up into the yard. Agent Jones was in the lead vehicle and came right inside without knocking on the door. He lifted the four men's faces up off the floor and sneered at them, then ordered his men to get them out of there. Another man took their weapons which Bucky had left piled on the table. Once they were gone he looked at Lacey expectantly.

"The flash drive?" he asked.

"You wouldn't be getting it if he hadn't been here," said Lacey, as she walked into the spare room. "Where was your guy, huh? Why didn't he pick it up last night?"

Jones grabbed her arm and spun her around. "You are very close to being arrested for harbouring a known fugitive," he said. "A very dangerous fugitive. He's a killer."

"Who saved my life," she reminded him as she yanked her arm out of his grip. "Those four, will they make bail? Will they come back to take me out? Bucky told me they're traffickers for HYDRA, scum of the earth, in other words. Will you protect me from them?"

"How long was he here?" asked Jones, his face just inches from hers, close enough that she could see the pores on his skin. "Did you know him before your brother came here?"

Lacey stepped back, intimidated by his anger. "No," she replied in a resigned manner. "He was hiding in the garage, injured. I didn't know who he was at the time but he asked for my help. It was after you left. He slept in the spare room, helped me with some of the house repairs. When those guys showed up he took them out, without killing them. Told me to phone you and to tell you the truth that it was him that helped me. So, I'm not going to believe you when you call him a dangerous killer. Is he dangerous ... yes, but not to me. Is he a killer? Not any more. You can believe me or not. Now let me get you that flash drive."

She went into the spare bedroom, pulled out the night table, lifted the loose piece of wood and took the flash drive out. Shoving it into his hand she looked at him harshly in the early morning light.

"By the way, he found your listening devices," she said. "I was nothing but truthful to you and yet you put listening devices into my home, as if I was a common criminal. Shame on you."

He shrugged. "Sorry," he said. "That decision came from higher up."

"Well perhaps your higher ups might be interested to know that those four Russians knew about the flash drive," she said. "If Tom didn't tell them then somebody in the FBI did. Chew on that. Now get out of my house."

He looked sharply at her and left the house while she followed him outside. Making a circular motion with his hand while holding it up in the air his associates got back into the SUVs and they pulled out. Then Lacey got dressed, made herself a coffee and sat at the table deciding what to do. She walked through the house, looking at and touching things, bringing back memories. After a time she phoned a realtor on her cell phone and told her she wanted to list the property immediately, as is, buyer take everything. Once she hung up, she broke down crying.

"I'm sorry Grandpa," she cried, looking around her. "I have to sell it. It's too dangerous for me now."

She started to pack her suitcases, then found a couple of boxes and packed up her books. For a moment she smiled when she realized her book, Confessions of a Broken White Girl, was missing.

"Son of a bitch, he took it," she said. "Maybe I will see him again."

She finished packing the books, then put the assorted pictures she had into the box with them. Looking around she tried to decide what else to take and she saw them, her Grandpa's LPs. He wanted to hear them all so she would play them for him and found she had an appreciation for big band music, as that comprised most of his collection. Going out into the garage she found some milk crates and emptied them of their contents. Inside the house she transferred the LPs into them, then put them into the trunk of her car.

Once more she looked around the living room area again but she didn't see anything else that was meaningful to her. She went into the spare room and looked around then saw something on the dresser. She hadn't noticed it when she went in to get the flash drive but she noticed it now. It was a paper heart, made origami style. She picked it up and turned it over. Written in pen in beautiful handwriting on the back were the words I will remember you, B. Sitting on the bed she held the paper heart in her hand and cried. They were over before they had ever started and he was gone forever. Her grandpa's robe was on the bed and she picked it up smelling Bucky's clean scent on it.

Slowly she took some deep breaths, calming her emotions then she put the paper heart inside of her favourite book, Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, and packed it back in the book box. From there she went to her room and looked around to see if there was anything she wanted to take with her. She folded up her grandmother's quilt then spotted her Grandpa's Korea medals, taking the shadow box gently into her hands. She wrapped it up in the robe, putting it and the quilt in the box with her books. As she came out of the bedroom there was a knock at the door and she opened the door to the realtor, who had got out there quickly. Lacey showed her around and explained that something had come up that required her immediate attention, that she wouldn't be able to return to pack up the house. After discussing an opening price Lacey told her the lowest price she would accept. She signed the contract, shook hands with the realtor and watched her leave with the spare set of keys. Then she packed the LPs and book boxes in her car's trunk, putting her suitcases in the back seat. After locking up the house she stood outside looking at it, at her failed dream, and got into her car. When she pulled away she didn't look back.

One month later

It was difficult waiting for the results of the final pregnancy test. Lacey had bought three of them, after three days straight of throwing up. The first two were both positive and now she was waiting for this one. The egg timer buzzed and she picked up the final test ... pregnant. She took a deep breath. How had this happened? Bucky was sure he was sterile and she had been on the pill. However it had happened it was real and now she had a decision to make. Was she going to keep it or get rid of it? She looked around at her bachelor suite. It was tiny, a furnished rental, under her grandmother's maiden name so that the Russian mob couldn't find her. She couldn't raise a baby there. But it was Bucky's baby and if it had his eyes .... Lacey opened her banking app and looked at her bank balance. The property had sold quickly, bought by a man who wanted to build a golf resort and paid a premium for the place, even though someone had broken in and trashed the insides. She could buy a house anywhere she wanted but she was afraid of being found if she did. Closing her app she opened her contacts and looked at the one for Agent Jones. She wanted to trust him so badly but he had hung her out to dry when she told him about the flash drive. A story on the TV caught her attention and she turned up the sound. It was about the Avengers. Captain America, Steve Rogers, was being interviewed about the day he fought the Winter Soldier at the Triskelion and almost died. They pressed him repeatedly about Bucky Barnes until he got angry and looked at the reporter.

"Bucky Barnes served his country in World War II and fell while in action," he said angrily. "He was taken as a POW by HYDRA, tortured, brainwashed and turned into a weapon. When I fought him he could have killed me but he began to remember who we were to each other and he saved my life. He needs to be brought in and be treated for his torture, then rehabilitated back into society. I will fight every minute for the rest of my life for Bucky."

He continued to glare at the reporter until they stopped recording. Lacey took a deep breath. Maybe he was someone she could ask for help and she impulsively booked a plane ticket to New York on her phone. Somehow she was going to talk to Steve Rogers, even if she had to camp out in front of Stark Tower to do it. The next morning she packed an overnight bag and hailed a cab to the airport. She checked in, using her real ID, and the counter agent looked at her.

"Ma'am, could you please stand aside?" she said quietly. "You have been flagged and someone is coming to speak to you."

"I need to get on this flight," insisted Lacey.

"We will do our best ma'am but it is important that you see this individual first," said the agent, apologetically.

A security guard appeared and Lacey sighed, stepping aside. He escorted her to an office behind the security station and opened a door for her to wait in a room. Five minutes later Agent Jones walked in and Lacey turned away from him in distaste.

"Don't do that," he said testily. "I am trying to help you but it was hard when we didn't know where you were. You booked a flight last night for New York and we waited for you to show up today. Are you meeting Bucky Barnes there?"

"Are you kidding me?" she said, looking at him with disgust. "You think I'm meeting him? I haven't seen him since the day the Russians tried to get the flash drive. I haven't heard from him either."

"Why did you sell your house then?" he asked. "Making a little nest egg to support both of you when you meet up with him again?"

"I am not meeting up with him again," said Lacey angrily. "Why don't you believe me? Bucky told me to sell up so the Russians couldn't find me again. Considering the leak that is likely in the FBI I thought it was good advice and I took it. You did know someone came to the house after I left and went through it? Good thing the buyer wanted the property and not the house."

"Then why go to New York?" he asked, looking at her intently. "What was so important that you had to get there?"

"I wanted to talk to Steve Rogers," she snapped. "You happy? I wanted to tell him that I had encountered Bucky. Then I was going to ask his help in finding a safe place for me to live. What would be safer than living with the Avengers?"

He stared at her and she stared right back at him, fed up with his fixation on Bucky. "That's it?" he asked. "You just figured you could walk up to Stark Tower, ask to see Steve Rogers and they would welcome you with open arms?"

"I'm an ordinary person who has had an extraordinary month since my brother was killed," she replied. "I'm not a criminal genius. It seemed like a good idea at the time. By the way, how goes the investigation into my brother's murder?"

Jones sighed. "I'm not the enemy," he declared. "You have all this anger towards me and I really don't know why. If you say you haven't heard from Bucky then I'll have to believe you. He's still wanted and there is still a shoot to kill order on him." He put up his hand when Lacey began to protest. "I told the CIA how he helped us arrest four heavies in the Russian mob but they dismissed it outright. The flash drive proved your brother's innocence and our forensic accountants are still examining it to determine where the money is." Jones sat back and looked at her again as if deciding his next course of action. She tried her best to ignore him.

"I'm going to give you my personal phone number," he said, taking a card out of his wallet and writing on it. "You were right to be angry at me for not coming for the flash drive sooner. I was under orders at the time and it did endanger your life. For that I am sorry, truly sorry. For what it's worth I think asking Steve Rogers for help is a good idea. You are still at risk from the mob because they likely think your brother told you more than he did. I'm going to escort you to your flight and when you get off the plane in New York there will be an agent who will pick you up and drive you to Stark Tower. His name is Edgar Rodriguez and this is what he looks like." Jones showed her a picture from his phone. "He will set up the meet with Steve Rogers. Whatever happens after that is between you two. Good luck and I do mean it."

The man was as good as his word, walking Lacey to the gate where they were holding the flight for her. When she came off the jet Agent Rodriguez was waiting for her and he drove her straight to Stark Tower, walking her inside to the security station and identifying her as Lacey Williams. A young woman came out of the secure area, greeted her and asked Lacey to come with her to the elevator. As they went up Lacey became nauseous and asked for a washroom so she could vomit. The woman looked at her strangely but showed her to a very well appointed one when the elevator stopped, where Lacey promptly threw up. After rinsing her mouth Lacey thanked her for her patience and followed her to a lounge area where Steve Rogers and Tony Stark were sitting on stools, talking. Both men held out their hands to shake hers and invited her to sit on a sofa while they sat across from her.

"Miss Williams," said Steve. "How can I help you?"

"I saw you on TV last night, sticking up for Bucky Barnes," she said, looking nervously at Tony Stark as she spoke. "I was with him just over a month ago." Both Steve and Tony became very interested. "I found him, injured in my garage. He said he had been cornered by HYDRA here in New York, shot in the leg, had to jump into the Hudson River and swim to Staten Island. My home, at that time, was in Delaware. He stayed with me for a short time, helped me with some repairs to the house then saved my life when some Russian mobsters came to find a flash drive left there by my brother. He was found dead in his car, murdered just after Bucky showed up."

"So, you're just here to update us on Barnes whereabouts?" asked Tony. "Do you know where he is now?"

"No, he left after telling me to call the FBI to pick up the four mobsters," she said. "He was trying to stow away on a container ship to Europe out of either Baltimore or Philadelphia. Whether he did or not is unknown to me."

"I don't understand," said Steve. "You could have called with this information. Why did you want to see me in person?"

"Because I don't know who else to trust," said Lacey, as tears started forming and her throat constricted. "You see, we slept together. I was on the pill and Bucky said he believed he was sterile from everything HYDRA did to him, but I started throwing up a few days ago. I'm pregnant, with Bucky's baby. I took three over the counter pregnancy tests and they all confirmed it. If HYDRA or even the CIA find out I'm afraid they'll come looking for me and the baby."

Both men sat there, their mouths open, then they looked at each other. "Can you prove it's Barnes?" asked Tony, and Steve glared at him. "I know how that sounds and I'm sorry for saying it but how do we know you're not some fortune hunter?"

"Because I already have half a million in the bank after I sold my home to some resort developer, in the event more Russians showed up," began Lacey. "I also have this." She pulled her copy of Pride and Prejudice out and brought out the origami heart, handing it to Steve. "He left this for me. I figured you, of all people, would recognize his handwriting."

Steve looked at it and stood up, looking at it again. He handed it to Tony and walked around considering everything that Lacey had just told him.

"Barnes doesn't know about the baby," stated Tony.

"No, I haven't heard from him since he left," said Lacey. "The message on that heart sounded pretty final to me and I've accepted that. I'm just more concerned about protecting the baby from those who would use him to find Bucky and arrest him."

"They might also want to study the baby," mused Tony to Steve. "A super soldier baby. Bruce thinks the genetic changes from both of your serums would be passed on to any children you have. I know lots of people in the CIA who would want to get their hands on that baby."

"So would HYDRA," said Steve, "especially if they could use it to lure Bucky back."

"Even though he's not in their hands Bucky said HYDRA can still control him," stated Lacey. "A sequence of activation words would make him compliant and he would obey any order they gave him. One of the Russians said the same thing. He hasn't killed since he saved you from drowning, for what it's worth."

"Tony, we need to locate Bucky and bring him in," insisted Steve. "As long as HYDRA has those activation words to control him he's a danger to himself and to us. But if we bring him in we can treat him. At the very least we need to keep Miss Williams here so that no one finds out she's carrying Bucky's baby."

"Who's carrying Bucky's baby?" said a female voice, belonging to Natasha Romanoff, who had just walked in.

It was Tony's turn to glare at Steve. "Natasha, meet Lacey Williams," said Tony. "She claims to be carrying Bucky Barnes' baby. How far along are you?"

"A month," replied Lacey. "I don't claim ... I am carrying his baby."

Natasha sat down and looked critically at Lacey. "How equipped is Bucky?" she asked bluntly of her. Steve and Tony both looked at her in almost horror. She looked back with feigned innocence. "What? He was involved in Red Room training and there were stories."

Lacey turned red in the face. "Very," she admitted as she glanced nervously at the two men. "The biggest I've ever seen. He knew how to use it as well. It was the best sex I've ever had, not that I've had a lot of experience."

"She's been with him," declared Natasha. "I'm sure Bruce can run some test to determine the father. We still have blood samples from Bucky, right? He was supposed to be sterile, they called him...."

"The dud of a stud, he told me," said Lacey.

Natasha tilted her head, a slight smile on her face. "They were filling him with all sorts of chemicals tweaking his physique, among other things," she explained to the men. "Those of us in the Red Room figured all the chemicals they were pumping into him while trying to come up with the perfect assassin probably made him sterile. They wanted him to breed with several Red Room candidates who hadn't had their graduation ceremony. Didn't stop Bucky trying, when he was the soldier of course. When he was not under control he refused to take advantage. Another reason he was a disappointment to them in that regard." She looked at Steve then at Tony. "Lacey is going to live here, right? If HYDRA or the CIA find out about the baby they'll come looking for her. We need to protect them both."

"Alright, she can live here," decided Tony. "But other than Bruce no one else needs to know." They agreed. "Miss Williams, where are you living now? We can provide assistance to you to pack up your things and bring them here."

"Philadelphia, in a furnished bachelor apartment," she replied. "I rented it under my grandmother's maiden name. I just have clothes, books, LPs and and some personal items."

"I'll help you," said Natasha. "It will give us a chance to get acquainted better. Which room, Tony?"

"Are you a morning person or an evening person, Miss Williams?" asked Tony.

"Morning, I guess," replied Lacey. "Just call me Lacey. My mom was a big fan of Cagney and Lacey."

"Give her one facing east, so Lacey can see the morning sun," decided Tony. "You can use the quinjet to fly there and take some help to carry Lacey's things. No point putting her on a commercial jet again when we can get it done faster."

Ninety minutes later Natasha, Clint, and Lacey had packed her things. Clint was only told that Lacey had run afoul of the Russian mob and the FBI couldn't guarantee her safety. He brought a dolly to load the boxes and quietly took load after load to the quinjet. Lacey wrote her notice and dropped it off under the door of the building manager. With Clint at the quinjet controls they were soon back at Stark Tower. He brought all the boxes and records on the dolly to Lacey's quarters then left Natasha to help unpack Lacey's things. Natasha looked at the selection of clothing and mentioned that she had to take Lacey shopping for some new clothes, which Lacey declined since she would need maternity clothes soon enough. Then Natasha saw the origami heart when Lacey took it out of the Pride and Prejudice copy.

"Bucky made this for you?" she asked. "It looks like he never expected to see you again. Surely, you're going to tell him about the baby?"

"I don't know where he is," said Lacey. "We only had the one night, so it's not like we had a commitment going into it. If they find him then I'll consider it but I don't think I will ever see him again."

"Then why have his baby?" asked Natasha gently.

"Because I can't stop thinking of him," admitted Lacey, a tear streaming down her cheek. "If the baby has his eyes then a part of him will always be with me and that will have to be good enough."

"They'll find him," said Natasha, putting her arm around Lacey's shoulders. "I'm sure of it."

Lacey smiled, hoping that Natasha was right. When she joined them all for dinner Tony introduced her as someone who needed protection from the Russian mob. Since the FBI seemed to have a leak they had been asked to keep her in Stark Tower for her own safety. He also announced that she was pregnant but that the father was missing. Everyone was kind to her but she did notice Tony talking privately to another dark haired man with both of them looking at her. She assumed it was about the baby and hoped that she could prove she was carrying Bucky's baby.

Chapter 4>>

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[unholyhelbig]

Can we have the last chapter of oversight??

Title: The Oversight [Part 7/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 7200

Warnings: Blood, (a lot of blood) Gun violence, childhood trauma, a shoot out, murder, and horrible grammar.

[A/n: This is it!! I wanted to thank everyone so beyond much for sticking with this story. I do suck at endings, so I'm sorry if it doesn't live up to expectations (I'm also writing this after the worst case of covid I've ever had). I'm more than happy to continue reader and Nat's story in some oneshots if you want to request some!]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

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Sheets of warm spring rain soaked into your clothes. Despite its tepid temperature, you were chilled to the bone. By the time you had taken Ronnie from her car seat in the back and coaxed a drowsy Darcy from the front seat, there was no dry part of you. A light wind had picked up and you were positive that your skin was pale, cold. Your lips are blue and shaking. It felt right to knock.

It was Yelena who answered the door, and she did so sparingly. It was just a crack at first, letting out a stream of golden light that caught the storm in its clutches. Then it was flung open entirely, and you had to squint against the brightness.

Darcy had a good grip on Ronnie’s hand, blinking away the last of her exhaustion as she started into the massive foyer and the house that was built around it. Yelena wore a bubblegum pink robe that was fuzzy. It looked warm. Her collarbone was littered in a smattering of blue and purple bruises. She dragged the two ends together to cover her skin.

“Y/n, it’s late.”

You were well aware of what time it was. This was Yelena’s odd way of asking if you were okay. She stepped to the side and allowed the three of you to enter, sopping wet. That was a good sign. Despite her abrasiveness, Natasha’s sister had more than one soft spot. One was for Kate, another for you, and even a small one for Clint.

“Holy shit…” Darcy whispered.

“It’s impressive, no?”

Yelena frowned, glancing up to the second level. The hall light flicked on, and you knew that Natasha had stirred. You’d awoken the dragon, not something that you were against doing. It felt stupid to have the worry of Ronnie being here in the back of your mind. This was an emergency situation.

Your heart started to pound faster and you shivered into yourself when she appeared at the top of the stairs. There was worry in her fern-colored stare. Why were you there? Why was your misfit family with you? It was late.

None of those questions came with Natasha, however. Instead, she wrapped you in her warm embrace. Your skin was frigid against her own, damp with the brutal attention of the storm. She had no objections to letting you sink into her embrace, wetting her pajamas.

“Dorogaya, chto sluchilos'?”

You pulled back, her fingers still digging into your waist. Yelena had been teaching you Russian, though you only picked up on a few words a time, you understood exactly the tone of her voice. “Carol… she was waiting for me at home.”

A hardness returned to her stare as she glanced at Ronnie who was overly interested in the tile pattern of the floor, and Darcy who was trying to work the pressure from her head with small touches to her nose.

“Did she hurt you?” her voice was a low growl “any of you?”

You shook your head. “Drugged Darcy, but it seems to be wearing off. Ronnie is alright. Carol said she was a friend and shit, Nat, I taught her about stranger danger, but she came straight to the door. I didn’t prepare her for anything like that.”

Yelena had wandered in her silent, cat-like way. She seemed to spawn back into the foyer with warm towels that felt like heaven against your skin. Your fingers were numb along with your emotions. Carol had entered your home. She entered your home.

This fact seemed to sink into Natasha’s bones. While she still held a strong grip on your shoulders there was a certain type of anger that edged through her from top to bottom. A storm brewed behind her eyes and threatened to shatter her cool confidence.

“Lena,” the word broke against her tongue “Will you please take Ronnie and Darcy to a guest room upstairs. I’m sure they’re exhausted.”

There was no objection from any party. You were once again left alone with Natasha, a charged feeling in the air that pulled the two of you together. She pressed her forehead against yours, breath warm on your collarbone.

“I’m going to kill her.”

“Nat,”

“I am. I don’t have another choice. There are clear lines that can’t be crossed and she just cut every single one of them.” Natasha hurriedly pushed strands of wet hair behind your ears, clearing your eyes. “She did this as a statement.”

“And if it’s a trap?”

“It most certainly is, darling, but that won’t stop us from walking into it.”

Very carefully, you thought about your next words, your next actions. It was easy to throw Natasha off, despite her resolute standing when she made a final decision. You felt her body pressed against yours, innate in its comfort and warmth. It would make you ache if she pulled away.

The words came out as a whisper “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

She attempted to step back, but your hands were tight against the silk of her robe. You held her there and she didn’t resist the tension. It was the first time you had really studied your own hands. They were different, entirely so, from those that serviced strangers at the diner.

There were soft bubblegum pink scars on your palms, and harder, darker ones on your knuckles from the countless hours you’d leaned into the pain of each punch. Natasha’s shoulder against the sand-filled bag as she stood against the strength you mustered.

A bruise from the last time you’d entered the shooting range bubbled under the surface of your palm, and it was this that Natasha stared at the hardest as you gripped her with an intensity she had yet to see.

“Did I ever tell you about my second foster father?” You asked, having released your hold, but keeping your hand splayed on her chest. You weren’t sure if you were holding her steady, or yourself. She shook her head. “Deputy Sheriff Edwards. He was a high school quarterback in Minnesota before he blew out his knee and would never let you forget it.

“And mostly… mostly he was a good guy. But, he worked long hours and had a mean streak that would show itself after a beer or two. If he had more, it was worse. He’d stumble in and find one of us kids to go out for shooting practice in the acreage behind the house.”

Natasha swallowed thickly and clenched her eyes shut for a moment. She hadn’t asked you about your familiarity with a gun and considered it a small blessing that you didn’t’ shy away from the weapon. Not only that, but you were quite nearly an expert shot once you got over the nervous familiarization.

“Locking the bedroom door, it worked sometimes, but not always. I had to pick and choose the nights when I wasn’t up for it. Usually in the winter. Minnesota gets cold, below freezing when the sun goes down behind the horizon. So cold that it burns your lungs to breathe, and you have to force your eyes open.

“Deputy Sheriff Edwards, when he couldn’t have me, he would go for my foster brother Andrew. I could hear the pistol going off, over and over again for hours. There was a distinct change in sound when the bullet actually hit the tin cans and it was… that night it was scarce. When you missed- when you missed, he got angrier.”

Natasha let out a shaky breath and pressed her forehead against yours. She was impossibly comforting, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around her and bury your nose in the small of her neck to stave off the cold. But you had to make her understand that you could handle this.

“That night, Andrew missed one too many cans and each shot was pockmarked by a hit to the temple. It was right outside my bedroom window, and the snow, the snow makes everything so much louder.” It was you that pulled in a desperate breath this time, greedy and hungry “a boy can only take so much before he aims the gun at something other than a can and pulls the trigger.”

She had reached up and used her thumb to wipe away a tear you didn’t know you shed, spreading it against your cheek. “Malysh, I can’t bare to put you through more pain.”

“That’s not your choice to make,” you whispered back, reaching up and wrapping your fingers gently around her wrist. “Whether you like it or not, Nat, you’ve spent the last six months training me to be the protector that you’ve needed. It would be a crime not to have me by your side through this, after she came into my home and threatened my family. This anger, this rage, will do nothing but serve us.”

Natasha let out a watery chuckle, “alright, Summer Sentient, stay on my six.”

There was a shed at the edge of Natasha’s large property that you rarely entered. There were too many memories attached to the location. The first time you had opened the door and clocked the coloring of the floor and the coolness of the structure, you knew that it wasn’t a place you wanted to return often.

When you had first stirred months ago with your arms tied behind your back, your mouth fuzzy and tasting of blood- it was here that they had taken you. Through your exhaustive haze, you figured it was a larger place, a storage unit or even an airplane hanger at the edge of a runway. Instead, it was a simple one-room shed that was kept ice cold and made to look infinite through mental manipulation and large intense lights.

Kate Bishop seemed to sense your simple unease and moved to help your fumbling fingers with the gun holster that was secured around your chest. Like always, Natasha organized a united front and a pep talk before going into a situation that none of you could truly prepare for.

“It’s going to be okay, you know” Kate murmured after she fastened the buckle, clapping you on the shoulder. Her eyes lingered on Natasha, on Yelena as the two of them spoke in hushed voices near a small counter that you hadn’t realized was there in the dark.

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Like an open book. It’s obvious how much you care for one another, and nothing is obvious with this family.” Kate moved to the other side of you, you tracked her with your eyes. Clint, in turn, watched the two of you interact from his perched spot near the far wall. “It took two years for Yelena to show any type of affection towards me.”

“Jesus Christ, I know she’s stoic, but shit.”

“Shit is right. I was head over heels for her within the first week. Mind you, I was suffering severe trauma and thrown into something much beyond myself. But I chipped away at her overtime, wore her down until she was comfortable enough telling me what she feels. But with the Romanoff’s, it’s not just about what they feel. It’s how they feel.”

You lifted both of your eyebrows at her. Kate handed you the jacket that was draped over a nearby chair, you toyed with it in your hands, moved your fingers over the brass buttons. It was much too warm in here to put on yet.

“Natasha is one of the scariest people I have ever met and It’s not because of her dripping ledger. It has everything to do with how much she cares. And she cares about you, y/n. It’s why she’s so reluctant to bring you along to something like this. To the end.”

“Thank you, Kate. For leading me through all of this.”

“Anytime, y/n. Can’t have you dying on us, can we?”

The plan was simple; there was no plan. A deal was supposed to met in a quick and clean way. Much like the restaurant, Natasha just needed you to simply be there to back her up. There was neutral ground at the edge of the shipyard that was far away enough from the unassuming population. Carol had agreed to meet there; tentatively.

There was something so civil and political about a business that was saturated in black sticky blood. You had a jarring feeling that tonight would be it for you, the moment of no return. Once you entered in a united front behind Natasha, your life would never be the same.

You didn’t want it to be.

Natasha Romanoff drove you absolutely wild, but had a way of calming that storm all the same. Though she’d never allow it, you would take bullets for her. But, you’d also take bullets for the little girl that you struggled to confront now.

The leather binding against your chest suddenly felt too stuffy. You’d often hid it behind the guise of a jacket or slid it into your glovebox before you trudged up the rickety stairs to your apartment. Now it was hugged as tightly as Kate could get it, pinching the fabric of your shirt.

Ronnie had looked up from the book she’d curled up with at the end of the sofa. She stared at it with quiet eyes. Everything she did was quiet but this time it felt more judge mental than usual. Natasha sidled up behind you, one ringed hand pressing calmly into the small of your back.

“Remember what I told you on the Ferris Wheel?” Natasha asked.

“She’ll talk when she’s ready.”

“Mm,” Natasha gave you a soft kiss behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I know that look. She wants to talk.”

The mafia boss gave you a little shove forward before making herself comfortable leaning against the doorframe that you had just vacated. She was begrudgingly right. Veronica had scooted over deliberately and given you room next to her.

Ronnie allowed you to get comfortable next to her, running her small fingers over the leather of the holster. You stopped her before she could reach the sheathed weapon, gently lowering both of your hands to your lap.

“Natasha?”

The woman stood up straighter, looking into the expectant eyes of your daughter. She patted the empty seat on the other side of her and you watched as your girlfriend struggled not to flounder under the weight of the request. Eventually she joined the two of you on the couch, nervously twisting the closest ring around her finger.

“I’m not stupid” Ronnie said.

You frowned “No one said you were stupid, baby.”

Your daughter was glowering at you. It took years to read her facial expressions, but the one that was on her features now was loud and clear. “You can’t come home with bruises like that and expect me not to notice.”

You blinked at her dumbly. Yes, kids were perceptive, Ronnie more than others. But no part of you wanted to expose you to the life you’d been thrown in. Guilt was weighing down Natasha’s shoulders, she glanced at you sheepishly.

“You weren’t supposed to join the mob. I know why you did it, though.”

Good god, she was smart. Smarter than you’d ever give her credit for. Everyone wants to believe that their child is special but there was a certain pride in your chest that rivaled your fear. She pulled her little hand from yours and placed it on the spine of the book.

She seemed to lose interest in you altogether and turned her attention to Natasha. “Don’t let her get hurt.”

“I…Are you giving me the shovel talk?”

“I don’t know what that means, just make sure my mom’s okay.”

Natasha swallowed the dryness in her mouth, it was nearly audible. “You don’t have to worry about that, kid. I promise.”

There was an innate fear coiled in the center of your stomach, and the cacophony of footfalls against weathered docks did nothing to ease your pitfall of feelings. Clint towered over you in height, walking with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets to ward off the chill of the summer wind.

Kate and Yelena stalked behind you both, their shoulders hunched, their conversation a hushed whisper. Six docks altogether led into one hexagon platform, that at one point, must have held a fair much like the one you attended in the early summer.

From the other stretch of docking came five others. Their silhouettes were fuzzy, black against the night sky. Carol held herself with a confidence that rivaled Natasha’s. You could make out Monica amongst the crowd, a man that you’d seen around town that you were sure went by the name Fury; particular to his deeply embedded rage.

A circle of wood in the center of the land stood between the two groups like a buffer. Hands were on guns, puffs of air streaming into the lone portlights drilled into soft wood. The scent of the sea itself seemed to assuage you into flexing your fingers, the salt in the air made everything feel filmy and frigid.

It was Carol who spoke first. Her voice was carried by the wind. “I must admit, I didn’t expect you to call a meeting like this.”

“You violate my trust as if it’s nothing Miss Danvers. It’s clear you wanted to invoke something other than a slap on the wrist.”

“Well, there’s been talk around town that you’ve become smitten with your little pet project. Forgive me for wanting to test the theory myself. If the big bad Romanoff sisters are going soft, don’t you think I should know about it?”

Yelena shifted behind you and in turn, so did Monica. No one reached for their weapon, though you itched from the inside out. Natasha even lift an eyebrow at the statement.

“You wanted to discuss the Maroni property. I’m willing to sell, but only with the proper conditions.”

Clint had sat you down a few weeks after your first excursion. The two of you sat at the end of the very diner that you had quit. You never really tried the food but could stomach the fries- even admit to yourself that they were the best in town for their price point. The Maroni property was nothing more than a vacant lot, but it held more than that. It would make Carol the owner of 60% of the town instead of the meager 50% that split everything equally.

If there was any objection to her offer, no one would show it. Peace of mind would not be worth giving up her hold, but you were. Yelena could kick her frustrations out at home later, Clint and Kate were none the wiser to do anything but trust blindly; and you were right there with them.

“And what conditions are those?”

“The same conditions our parents have abided by all these years. There’s an honor in what we do and what we control and when you start crossing lines like the ones you did last night, you pour gasoline on an already raging fire.”

Carol tasked and took a step forward. This time the handle of your gun was in your palm. You held your stance. “So poetic, Natasha. You have been since grade school. I’ll take the land, but you’re mistaken if you think I’ll pay full price.”

Natasha clenched her jaw, her eyes darting to the rolling darkness of the sea. The waves were crashing violently against the wooden support beams. There were whitecaps miles from the shore and a storm was brewing that you could almost taste.

“Seventy-five. I won’t go any lower.”

“Alright, Seventy-five.”

Carol stuck her hand out over the circular center of the docks. It was a show of good faith, but your palm grew slick with sweat. You watched her with more care than you ever have before. Clint was rigid with tension, and you could practically hear Kate breathe nervously behind you.

Eventually, Natasha took the woman’s hand. She held it for a moment before leaning closer, whispering something that you couldn’t’ hear over the screeching of the waves. You could, however, see Carols face shaded by the port lights. The golden yellow color enveloped the stark coldness in her stare, the anger that flashed behind hazel irises.

When the gunshot sounded, Natasha’s back was to Carol and those who flanked her sides. It was such a quiet and muted sound that made your ears ring, but it was also a familiar sound. One that flashed back to that snowy night in Minnesota, the spray of pulpy blood on the startlingly white snow.

When Andrew had pulled the trigger, he looked Sheriff Deputy Edwards in the eyes and you had always wondered if the fear cut through the haze of alcohol that night. The split second where the bullet left the chamber, was there penance to be made? He’d dropped to his knees and let out a choking sound that you heard through the paned glass windows.        

There wasn’t a wall of insulation, and wood, and glass to garble the sound of the gunshot that rang out tonight. The waves seemed to swallow up your own scream and the commotion that stretched into being.

Carol had waited until Natasha broke the handshake and turned away before she fired her weapon. Something so strong and ever-present was dropped to the sun-bleached wood in a matter of moments. Natasha didn’t make a sound.

“Get down!” Clint yelled next to you.

You caught the anger in Monica’s stare, the way that Carol had moved her target from Natasha, directly to you. At this specific point, with Natasha crumpled at your feet and the woman who had pulled the trigger sneering at you, was when something snapped within you.

A good shot, you had always been a good shot. Not only that, but you’d been efficient too. Clint had given up trying to drag you away and instead made quick work of those that were backing Carol. Kate and Yelena were gone; in the throws of darkness, into hand to hand combat. It left you alone with the woman that made everyone cower in fear.

Natasha’s blood had sopped onto your shoes. Tears threatened to well up in your eyes. She wasn’t breathing. You couldn’t tell if she was breathing. She had curled into herself and hidden her face from you and while you wanted to pull her into your arms at this very moment; that wasn’t possible.

An ongoing war was raging around you. Gunfire and screaming, and oddly enough, the pungent scent of fire. Carol watched, confident in her protection. She smiled at you, a wolfish and inhuman grin.

“Now, you can’t tell me this hasn’t changed your perspective.” She said, sweeping her arms out as if this were her kingdom- as if this chaos, this reign of gunfire and screams amongst the people you loved, was what she wanted all along.

“It has,” you raised your gun, pointing it directly to her chest. To her credit, she didn’t flinch. “I just watched you shoot a woman in the back. What’s noble about that?”

She cackled “Noble? That’s the problem with you Romanoff’s, there is nothing noble about this business. To win, you have to play dirty. To win you can’t be afraid to take what you want, and I can’t exactly do that through handshakes and good will. Can I?”

“I suppose not, but how are they supposed to trust you, hm? All of those you’ve promised the world to, the ones fighting for your wellbeing as we speak?”

“I would never betray them.”

“Oh, now, I don’t believe that.”

She frowned at you and readjusted her hold on her gun. In any other world, she would have fired her gun by now, but there was something deep within Carol that had been curious about you. About how Natasha seemed to soften around your presence. Still, she didn’t understand, but she wanted it all the same.

Her finger adjusted on the trigger. You watched every movement she made. There was another, calmer, war in her mind. She could kill you right here if she wanted to, but you couldn’t tell if she did or not.

Natasha let out a wounded noise at your feet; a wet choking sound as she struggled to pull air into her lungs. Carol lifted both eyebrows and glanced down at her. “You can save her or kill me. I don’t think you’re quick enough to do both.”

Kate let out a guttural scream from further down the dock that was followed by two more blows and flashes from a gun. Most of Carols lackeys had been incapacitated in one way or another. You clocked Clint’s trembling form as he kneeled between two dark masses. You couldn’t see Yelena, couldn’t’ even hear her, but she leaned into her silence, her rage.

By the time your eyes had met with Carol’s once more, she had made her choice. She pressed further down on the trigger, and in your blind edge of confidence you fired first. Both bullets were aimed at her stomach, and both hit their mark before her single shot found it’s way to your shoulder.

The pain shot through your arm, down the numbness of your fingers. A deep sound escaped the back of your throat. The force of the blast nearly brought you to your knees. Nearly. You’d felt the heat of the bullet rip through the gore of your shoulder- enter and exit in a clean way that would hiss in pain later, but it was no match for the adrenaline.

Carol let out a groan, one that bubbled with pain. You kicked her weapon away from her, letting it slide against the wooden dock. She blinked up at you dumbly, her hands pressing against the slowly growing crimson spot in the center of her stomach.

The color dripped from the wound on your shoulder, over the silver of the casing. A singular drop of red succumbed to the pull of gravity and landed against the smooth expanse of Carol’s collarbone. When she grinned, her teeth were stained with rust.

“Tell me, Carol, what do you see?” You pulled back the hammer, ignoring her sloppy chuckles and the frothy blood that foamed past her lips. “A broken waitress, or a trained killer?”

“Now you’re getting it…” she swallowed thickly, trying to quell the pain “It’s all about perspective.”

You pulled the trigger for a third, and final time that night. You were so trusting in your aim that you refused to look when you administered the final blow. Her head dropped to the side, the bullet finding it’s way right between her eyes.

Silence seemed to fall over the docks. You could hear the crashing of the waves and the seagulls that circled above at the scent of shed blood. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and the gun you wielded was dropped to the dock.

She’d been killed so easily. This big, hulking demon that loomed over the town, and over your life. It took nothing but a rage-filled trigger pull to end it all. Your heart was in your throat, blood rushing past your ears.

And then there was Natasha.

Natasha had shifted onto her back, her hand outstretched in your direction. You could hear the painful wheeze in each breath. Her skin was pale, a bloom of red at the corner of her lip. You wanted to kiss it away, to pull her as close as possible, but you were afraid to move her.

Your knees dug into the coarse wood, your palm finding purchase on her cheek. “Nat, baby, I need you to stay awake, okay?”

“The stars, you can see them so well out here.”

You frowned, glancing up at the velvety blue sky. The constellations were bright, making little pictures of lions, and archers, and long stretches of water. It was hard to see them with the perpetual glow of the city. But out here, just like the mansion, they made a map.

“Yeah, baby, you can.” You reached blindly for her hand. It was cold. “You can’t go to sleep. Just keep looking at the stars, for me. Clint! Lena!”

Your voice broke on the second call. Your face was damp with tears as you kept track of Natasha’s stunted breathing, and the tight grip she still held you with. She refused to let you go, and you did the same, pressing the warmth of your lips to her white knuckles.

Yelena was by your side. She was pale and shaking herself. There was a gash above her eye, dripping blood and drying against her cheek. There was a split in her lip, a forming bruise under her chin and against the length of her neck.

“ne ostavlyay menya, sestra. Ty sil'neye etogo. Drat'sya.”

“Should we call an ambulance?”

“No, no hospital.” Yelena shook her head “we do this on our own, just like we always have.”

Your fingers were caked in blood, a dried brown color that was ugly against the beauty of your shared bedroom with Natasha. You wanted to scrub them clean, watch as the water was tinted a toxic orange before it circled the drain, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

A glass of water was set on the small table next to you, and you fought back the urge to startle. You hadn’t heard anyone enter. There was a familiar spiced scent to Darcy that you picked up on before registering her presence. She nudged the glass closer to you and lowered herself into the other chair.

“You should really let Yelena look at that shoulder.” She said.

“It’s fine.”

You picked up the glass and considered swallowing down some of the room temperature water, but thought better of it. You held onto it because you could. It grounded you, the cloudy glass stained with coppery fingerprints.

“The news… they’re saying that a wealthy businesswoman snapped. Allegedly, she lured her employees down to the docks and killed them all before turning the gun on herself.”

“Tragic.” This time you did take a swallow of the water before setting it on the table.

Darcy watched you carefully. She wasn’t being judgmental, or at least, that’s what you wanted to believe. Her eyes were still darkened with exhaustion but filled with a deep kind of worry. She hesitated, moving to put her hand on your knee, but thinking better of it.

Instead, she directed her attention to Natasha’s unconscious form on the bed. Yelena had called in a private doctor, stubborn in her efforts. He worked mostly alone, and had hushed conversation with those in the room that could comprehend better than you could in your fuzzy state.

Kate had attempted to patch you up, but you pulled away with enough intensity for her to focus on licking her own wounds. Natasha was stable, she was alive. They weren’t sure if she would make it through the night- but you’d remain by her side until they were sure.

“I can’t lose her,”

The admission was whispered and shattered. You didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility of Natasha not pulling through. She was the first person you’d met in years that not only accepted you, but pushed you to be a better version of yourself. She had a softness for Ronnie, a commanding nature to her presence.

 Darcy cracked a small smile, “leave it to you to fall in love with a loan shark that has a pension for bullets. Something tells me that’s she’s more stubborn than even you. And if that’s the case, then she’ll make it.”

You reached out and grasped Darcy’s hand, allowing her to ground you. Pain ripped through your shoulder, the bandage that you had allowed Kate to apply was dotted with the wounds efforts to gush. Still, you squeezed as hard as you could manage, listening to the heart monitor that hummed in time with the grandfather clock in the corner.

She stayed with you while you fought to stave off sleep. At one point, Clint came in with a tray of food that lay mostly untouched on the dresser. Your eyes burned as you stared at the simple rise and fall of her chest, both feet planted on the floor.

Sixteen hours had passed. You’d paced the room, and at one point, finally allowed someone to address your wounds. It throbbed in time with your heart, which in-turn, mirrored Natasha’s. It was hour twenty when you saw any sign of life, and you nearly missed it, the fluttering of her eyes as they adjusted to the sun streaming into the room.

You’d rolled your head back, trying to quell the stiffness of your neck, the hushed growl escaped your lips. “Oh… fuck.”

“That’s a beautiful sound.”

To hell with your aching body. Natasha’s voice was so meek that you’d nearly missed it altogether. You were treated with a startling blast of green color. She stared at you inquisitively, trying to prop herself up on her elbows. You were quicker than her in this state, using your palm against her chest to gently force her back onto the mattress.

“Don’t try to move,”

“I don’t do well with orders, y/n.”

“God damn it, I know.”

She gave you a small smile at this, but allowed you to coax her back into a laying position. She let out a protest of pain as you placed your ear flush against her chest, assuring that this was real, that her heart was beating strong and consistently. And it was, it really was.

Natasha chuckled, and worked her hand through your hair. “It’s okay, Zaychik. I’m alright.”

“Nat, you were shot in the back twice. It’s going to be a long road to recovery. You’re lucky that it didn’t shatter your spine, hell you could have lost the ability to walk altogether-“

She cut you off, grabbing your chin and leading your lips to hers. She tasted of blood, of the slightest bit of antiseptic and artificial cherries. She tasted like home. You fretted to pull away, knowing that she had kissed you to ultimately shut you up, but really, did that matter?

Natasha frowned into the kiss and pulled away, her fingers had found the bandage on your shoulder, running across the cross section where your skin met gauze. “You’re hurt. She hurt you.”

“She got a good shot in but had terrible aim. Nothing but a flesh wound.”

“Flesh wounds can be dangerous, Malysh.”

“Mm, so they can.” A few moments passed, your forehead pressed against hers, happy to be in her presence. “What did you say to Carol… right before she…”

Natasha let out a deep sigh and winced at the exhalation. She laid her head on the pillow and glowered at the painted ceiling above you both. You remembered staring up at it after Natasha had exhausted you on more than one occasion. Right now, she was trying to find the words, just like you had tried so desperately to find your solace.

“I threatened her family the way she threatened mine. I thought better of her, I suppose, than to shoot a woman in the back. Though, I would have done the same with the threats I laid out. I just needed to be sure that she wouldn’t… couldn’t hurt you… Ronnie.”

“You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

“Maybe not the Danvers family, but there are more just lurking in the shadows waiting for their chance to swoop in. They’re scared now, I’m sure. But fear only goes so far.”

“I’m in this for the long haul, if you’ll have me, of course.” You tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, careful of her wounds. “I don’t care if it’s the Russo’s, or the Sarkissian’s, or any other psycho family that tries to take your power away from you. They’ll have to go through me.”

Natasha chuckled, “Alright, quickdraw, don’t get too cocky. We’ll lay low for a little bit. Heal. Then we can talk about the future.”

Somehow, that was enough for you. Natasha waking up, speaking and smiling, and laughing would always be enough for you.

“Drop the gun,” Kate’s voice was shaking, her hands outstretching in front of her in the ultimate sign of surrender. She looked vulnerable, the sun beating down on her shoulders and her stormy eyes catching the reflection of the water. “I’m unarmed, this isn’t cool, man.”

Her protests didn’t’ seem to matter one bit. Cooper pumped the front end of his gun and aimed the ice cold water directly at Kate’s stomach. His action was a silent call to the brigade of children that ascended on her; some carrying water guns like Coop, and others nailing her with neon colored balloons.

“Ah, the inhumanity!” She fell to the grass, scooping Ronnie up in the process. “Shield me, kid!”

You watched the girl with fondness, fighting back until the end. Clint chuckled behind you, flipping the burgers that had browned evenly on one side. The scent was intoxicating, and though you wouldn’t’ admit your hunger outright; your mouth was watering.

Yelena had ascended on the situation, taking a super soaker and dousing the clan that was attacking, and winning, Kate. She tucked Ronnie under her arm like a football and started to dash away towards the fence, out of earshot.

Clint’s wife, Laura, was pouring a glass of lemonade for Darcy. The two of them watched the scene from poolside chairs with as much amusement as you carried. They spoke with smiles on their faces, cheeks flushed from the heat of the day.

Warm arms wrapped around your midsection, a chin resting on your shoulder. The scent of sunscreen filled your lungs. You had always felt innate safety in Natasha’s embrace. She kissed behind your ear once, and then the side of your neck.

“She’s good with them.” Natasha purred.

“I think it’s because she’s a kid at heart.”

“And you let her protect your assets?” Clint tsked as he loaded the burgers onto a nearby plate. “Seriously, without Yelena training her I never would have taken the safety off her gun.”

“I can hear you!” Kate called back, shifting Ronnie to her other hip. “They are being so rude. I’m more than capable of being a degenerate.”

“Degenerate,” Yelena scoffed “Kate Bishop, you’ve invented the word.”

You shook your head, turning in Natasha’s arms before you draped your own over her shoulders. She wore that same black bikini that she had on when she proclaimed your new rank in her little empire. It seemed so long ago- and she was certainly marred with new markings to prove this. Your fingers tracing gently over the healed scars on her stomach.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips against hers, “Thank you for this.”

“Mm,” She hummed into the embrace “For what, detka?”

You deepened the embrace, whispering against her “resolution.”  

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanov x reader #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Yelena Belova #Katelena #Marvel #Mafia au

[oizysian]

I Set the World on Fire | mafia!au

Summary: Wanda is the don of a very powerful mafia family, only rivaled by the Romanoff family. When she and her long time girlfriend, Y/N, start having problems, Natasha, head of the Romanoff family, sees a means to an end. But is everything as it seems?

Teaser: My Wanda

Part I: Looking Out For You

Part II: Daddy Issues

Part III: Irreplaceable

#wanda maximoff fanfiction #I’ll update this as I post them #mafia!au #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x female reader

[justsomeclintasha]

(In which the tracksuits are somehow helpful, but still say “bro” a lot.)

Clint trudges home in the rain, jacket pulled tight around his shoulders. The hood has blown off three times already. As it falls again, he sighs and gives up. Almost there.

“Aw, no,” he groans. Three members of the tracksuits are under the canopy for the lower apartments.

“You having a bad day bro?”

“Fighting with your girlfriend bro?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he mumbles, shouldering past. For once, they let him go.

“Sure you do, bro. The redhead. She make you walk home in the rain?”

“That sucks, bro.”

Just before he reaches the stairs, he turns to brush wet strands of hair from his eyes.

“Wait. You think me and Natasha are dating?”

The tracksuits just laugh, as if he asked the funniest question in the world.

XXXXX

Lucky whines as Natasha drops her keys on the kitchen counter. She scratches behind his ears, crouching down to get a better look, and some licks to the face.

“You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?”

And if that doesn’t make his heart do some kind of crazy flutter in his chest. He takes a moment to study her. The way she’s so at ease in his home, around him, all bare feet and loose curls. Her laugh as Lucky rolls over on the floor for belly rubs.

He could get used to this. Yeah, he really could.

“Want to take him to the park?” she asks. He closes his mouth and nods before he can say something stupid.

XXXXX

“Not today, guys. How about you try to fight me for the apartments another time?”

“No fighting right now, bro. Need physical therapy for my wrist. Should be healed up next week.” One of the tracksuits points to a brace on his arm and the other stubs out a cigarette.

“That’s too bad,” Clint says dryly.

“Make up with your girlfriend yet, bro?”

“She’s not my girlfriend, but we’re fine. She’s coming over for pizza tonight.”

“You should kiss her, bro.”

“Maybe you get lucky, bro.”

Clint just laughs, trying to fish his keys out of his pocket and hold a stack of pizza boxes at the same time. Fortunately, nothing ends in disaster.

XXXXX

His favorite episode is halfway over. She sets her plate aside. Without thinking, he brushes a crumb from her lips with his thumb.

She freezes.

“Shit, Nat, sorry.”

Slim fingers close around his wrist as he moves to pull his hand back. He waits. He doesn’t know what it means. She doesn’t either. But he knows what he wants. Searching for any sign of hesitation, he leans in.

“Nat, I-“

“Shut up.”

It’s the longest and shortest kiss of his life. Heat flares in his cheeks as they draw apart. Even she manages to look a bit shy.

“The tracksuits think we’re dating,” he blurts out. She stares at him for a moment and then bursts into laughter, shoulders shaking as she curls into his side.

XXXXX

“Looking happy today, bro.”

“Where you heading, bro?”

Clint grins, turning back towards the door as Natasha steps out. He laces his fingers with hers. The tracksuits look at him with something that resembles pride.

“Just going for breakfast… with my girlfriend.”

#clintasha #clint barton x natasha romanoff #clintasha fanfic #tracksuit mafia

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

Now that Bambi's been introduced to the family...

Find Bambi's intro HERE!

#Mafia AU #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Loki #Natasha Romanoff #ari levinson #Nick Fowler #joaquin torres #Thor #Mickey Henry #Steven Grant #marc spector #jake lockley #Sam Wilson #Andy Barber #valkyrie #Jake Jensen #wanda maximoff #Frank Castle #Maria Hill #Kraven the Hunter #Colin Shea #Max Sharper #Mob Rules AU

[olive-main]

Marvel Masterlist:

☆———————————————☆——————————————☆

Bucky Barnes

Two Heads of Hydra (🪦?)

#marvel #marvel angst #marvel smut #oneshots #scenarios #mafia bucky barnes #bucky barnes #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #the avengers #bucky x y/n #avengers endgame #the winter soldier #black panther #iron man #spider man #peter parker #iron dad and spider son #mcu imagine #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel comics #masterlist #marvel masterlist #mcu fanfiction #bucky fanfic #fanfics

[itshaejinju]

Marvel Mafia Headcanons Part 2

The Avenger Mob

Boss- Tony “Iron Man” Stark

Consigliere - Bruce “The Hulk” Banner

Underboss - Steve “Capt America” Roger

Caporegime - Clint “Hawkeye” Barton

Caporegime - Natasha “Black Widow” Romanoff

Caporegime - Bucky “Winter Soldier” Barnes

The Avengers deal in military grade weapons funded by the Stark family. It’s barely legal, their selling to the government to get kickbacks and immunity it’s common knowledge but if you speak too loud you will get taken out. The more illegal side of the weapon trade it to any mob family with enough cash to dole out. They also deal in high level assassinations.

Tony’s mob family was created out of need to tussle with the Asgardian mob to help even the territories. The inside informant of the government by the name of Fury assembled them. Tony took to the life like a shark in chum infested waters. He likes the flashy take on the lifestyle and tends to push the other families.

Bruce as his right hand man is more of a shadow that scares people into behaving. Just the threat of his Hulk form tends to keep people in check. Most of the time he works side by side with Pepper Potts managing all the work Tony “delegates“ to them making sure that they are continuing to keep the businesses running and other families in check.

Steve is the underboss he feels he is the actual face of the family. The one keeping everything in check making sure everything runs smoothly and justifying all wrongs. He has some issues with Tony’s views on how to compete with the Asgardian mob. He spends a lot of time trying to be one step in front of the other families.

Bucky works closely with Steve as they have been friends for a long time. Bucky runs the weapons on the more illegal side while Tony works the military side. He has rules no weapons for kids, no weapons for revenge sake but for safety. He always teaches basics of one asks. His soft spot for cats and a certain witch name Y/N has him visiting a speak easy in enemy territory often.

Natasha along side Clint manage the assassinations and protection runs. Both work together like two peas in a pod. Natasha is requested all over the world for her skills of interrogation and takedowns. Her team brings a lot of fear and respect to the Avenger mob.

Clint runs more of the protection runs than Natasha. His team makes runs daily collecting fees and legitimately protecting those streets they walk. They are by far the safest spots to walk around. Of families that try to take down the safe zones get knocked out quickly and effectively.

(I might do more…with some convincing)

#mafia au #marvel headcanons #my writing #tony stark #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #clint barton #steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n

[cherriontop]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, Jack Rollins Additional Tags: Mob AU, shield is a mob, hydra is a mob, infiltrated shield, Friendly Fire, backstabbing, steve bucky sam and nat are all on the same team, Injured Bucky, Injured Steve, Injured Sam, drug deal, Drug deal gone wrong, Steve rescues Bucky, lots of people getting shot and stabbed, not too graphic though, traitors rumlow and rollins, getaway, Revenge Summary:

After being shot by a supposed team member, Bucky realizes that the Shield mob may have some internal problems.

Written for @stuckybingo Square B4: AU: Mob/Gangsters

@buckybarnesbingo Square U2: AU: Mafia/Mobsters

#stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #brock rumlow #jack rollins #mob #mafia #injured bucky #injured steve #injured sam #fanfic #my writing #au #ao3 #marvel #stucky bingo round 4 #buckybarnesbingo2023