#natasha romanoff series

[natsarrownecklacx]

Cruelty Is An Art Form Pt.2

Word Count- 3,183

Summary- Your the daughter of one of New York’s most known Mob leaders. Unfortunately, you’ve caught the attention of New York’s most feared Mob leader, Natasha Romanoff.

Warnings- Dark Natasha Romanoff, Smut, Minors this fic if not for you, Knife kink, Fear kink, mentions of kidnapping, allusion to death/ murder, dub con, slight daddy kink. Lmk if I missed anything.

Part One

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

Natasha walks you out of the bar with one arm wrapped securely around your waist. A blade, concealed by her suit jacket, pokes you dully in the side, engulfing you in the fear that acting out in any way will lead to your death. 

She pushes you into the back seat of her car, spinning the blade tauntingly in her hand as she instructs her driver to take you both to her home.

The car starts to move instantly and you turn your attention to the world slowly edging by outside the window. You watch as the sky turns to shades of red and yellow then slowly fade to a dark, leached gray in an attempt to distract yourself from the panic you feel coiling in your chest.

You don’t look at Natasha, not even once, as you make the drive from the city to her house in the countryside. She doesn’t try to speak to you or gain your attention in any way either, which you are grateful for. 

She sits so still, so quietly, that you’ve almost convinced yourself that she isn't really there. That, or she’d forgotten about you altogether. Either way you just hope that whatever is keeping her occupied lasts at least until the end of the car ride. 

What you didn’t know is that Natasha has not taken her eyes off of you once since you both left the bar. She’s just contented herself in watching you, imagining all the different ways she can play with you once she gets back to her house. That is, until she grows bored of only using her imagination. 

You feel the cold pinch of metal against the bare skin of your thigh before you feel her move toward you. You flinch inturnaly and pray that if you don’t acknowledge her behavior, she’ll remove the blade from its place on your leg and shuffle back to the other side of the seat. 

She holds the blade lazily against your thigh, swirling it against your skin to create intricate, twirls and designs. She doesn’t press hard enough to draw blood, but the knife is sharp enough to leave faint lines of red in its wake. 

Your heart picks up its pace in your chest, thudding against your ribs at a speed that makes you dizzy. 

Natasha watches with predatory eyes as your breathing picks up, finding a twisted pleasure in the way your chest rises and falls rapidly as she twists and loops the blade against the plush skin of your thigh. 

It only takes a few minutes before the enjoyment she feels watching you starts to fade. The now familiar quickened pace of your breath and uncomfortable shifting of your body boars her. So she decides to take it a step further, moving the blade higher up your thigh. 

Your breath hitches, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the redhead, a sly smile making its way over her face at hearing the sound. Natasha smirks maliciously to herself, leaning in tauntingly slowly and placing open mouth kisses on the side skin of your neck. 

You gasp quietly at the attention she gives the delicate skin and try to shuffle away. Hot, molten shame courses through your veins upon realizing that her actions are making arousal pool in the pit of your stomach. You close your legs against the feeling, willing it to go away. 

Natasha, however, has other ideas. She pushes down slightly on the blade, making it pierce your skin in warning and she delights in the whimper that leaves your lips at the stinging sensation and your compliance to unclench your thighs. 

Natasha continues her path of leaving marks on you, picking up where she left off in the bar. She moves the knife up and down your thigh without pause, using her other hand to massage and grope at the plush flesh of your neglected thigh. 

She moves her attention to your pulse point, gently nipping and sucking at the area. A needy whine leaves your lips as your mind slips from its surroundings and plunges you into a fuzzy headspace, the alcohol and lust running through your system lowering your inhibitions to a damn near non-existent level. 

Natasha moves hand unoccupied by the blade to your chest, groping and kneading the flesh in a way that has the heat in your stomach sliding down between your legs. You lean your head against the back of the seat, unconsciously closing your eyes, arching your back forward and spreading your legs for the widow. 

Natasha smirks against the skin of your neck, taking the opportunity to press the flat of the blade between your legs, directly onto your clit. She watches in awe as your head tilts back and a pitiful, needy moan falls from your lips, the cold of the blade setting your senses on fire. 

She’d had a feeling when she’d seen you at the bar that you were different from every other girl she’d known before, but this is not what she was expecting. 

Hot arousal pools in Natasha’s stomach, making her clench her thighs together. She tries to sit quietly in her seat, not wanting to pull you from your blissed out headspace. 

Your hips start to move against the cold metal pressed against your cotton panties, eliciting quite whimpers and moans from your lips. 

“Fuck.” She whispers, feeling her slick slide into her panties and stick them to her dripping folds. She watches with dilated eyes as you get yourself off on the metal, grinding your hips into it and clenching your fists on either side of your body. 

Soft moans and whimpers leave your mouth as you do, the heat between your legs building to the point that only a few more thrusts will push you over the edge. 

It's not until you absentmindedly whine out “Daddy” that Natasha loses her will to restrain herself. Without allowing herself to really register what she is doing she grabs your hand from beside you, shoves it between her legs and wasting absolutely no time before closing her thighs around it and grinding down. 

The rough and sudden movement pulls you from your absent headspace, bringing you back to yourself and your current situation. You yelp out and jump away from the woman beside you.

Tears of shame and disgust fill your eyes as the reality of your actions hit you. This woman has kidnapped you, threatened you and killed hundreds if not thousands of people. Yet you couldn’t help yourself from opening your legs for her. 

Natasha sighs, seeing that she will no longer be getting what she wants. She opens her mouth to speak, no doubt to tell you to get over yourself, that it's only a bit of fun, but her driver and the car pulling to a halt stop her just before the words can leave her mouth. 

“We're here, boss.” 

Natasha looks to the man, thanking him and dismissing him for the night. She then looks back to you, a teasing, evil glint in her eyes as she lifts the blade up to your eye line, showcasing the slick arousal sliding down its surface. 

“Don’t bother acting all innocent, Angel. Having my blade between your legs turns you on, there's no hiding that now.”

You look away in embarrassment, wishing more than anything that a hole could open underneath you and swallow you. Or anything really to make you feel something other than this. 

—-----------------------------------

Natasha opens the car door and steps out, looking over her shoulder expectantly at you. You follow her without complaint, hoping that if you do so she won’t feel the need to pull you along behind her, not wanting to draw anymore attention to the fact that she had her hands all over you only moments ago in a very different context. 

You follow behind her through a huge font door, into an admittedly very nice house. The entryway is filled with paintings and sculptures from what looks to be Greek mythology.  It all comes together in a way that makes the room look decadent and beautiful. It's not at all what you expected her house to look like, but you appreciate the interesting art either way. 

Natasha only acknowledges your presence again when she looks over her shoulder toward you, having reached a door at the end of a long hallway. She pauses briefly after opening the door and gesturing for you to walk inside. 

This room, unlike the one in the hall, is exactly what you think Natasha’s living space should look like. It’s a home study, with a large mahogany desk in the center of the room, what looks to be a drinks cabinet pushed against the left wall and a rather mysterious looking wooden chest in the back left corner, hidden between the wall and the drinks cabinet.

There's a comfortable, old timey looking arm chair in the top right hand corner, with a small drinks table next to it. There are various paintings scattered around the room, each of them depicting different Greek gods and goddesses. 

Natasha walks into the room behind you, shutting the door behind her and walking straight to her desk. She looks toward you, raising a brow at you awkwardly standing in the center of the room, waiting for some kind of instruction. 

Natasha smirks to herself and nods to the armchair in the corner, watching in amusement as you follow her wordless command. 

The second your body meets the leather of the chair Natasha’s voice cuts through the silence of the room, calling for a few of her men, who were stationed around the house, to join you in the study. Each of the men ignore your presence as they enter and stand silently, listening to Natasha order them to find every bit of information they can about you. They leave the way they came, with only a complaint “on it boss” passing through their lips. 

The men leave and the room is plunged into an uncomfortable silence. Natasha doesn’t speak to you or try to touch you at all. She doesn’t taunt or threaten or gloat. She simply sits in the chair behind her desk, a glass of vodka in hand, and stares at you as if you are a five course meal and she is a starved woman. 

This continues on for what feels like hours, but in reality is only thirty minutes, until Natasha’s phone rings, disturbing the quiet in the room and causing you to flinch, not expecting the noise. 

You can’t hear the person speaking to her on the phone, but you can tell from the look in her eyes and the cheshire-like grin on her face that they’ve given her what she wanted.

Natasha’s eyes darken and you swear you can see an idea forming behind the deep pools of green and black.

She puts the phone down without saying a word, her eyes never leaving you as she does so. She bites her lip in thought and turns her attention to her phone, debating her next move for a few seconds before picking the device back up.  

The other person answers quickly and she begins to speak in a language you don’t understand. Sometimes you hear her say your name, your heartrate picking up each time she does so. Whoever she’s talking to seems to be fairly interested in you, seeing as Natasha’s gaze remains on you the entire time. Luckily the call only lasts for a few short minutes. 

“Do svidanyiya.” She says, seemingly happy with the outcome of the call, and hangs up. 

She sits back in her chair, staring at you over the rim of her glass. You can see from the way her grip tightens on her glass and eyes dilate that she is holding herself back from taking you in every way her sick mind can convince. 

You war with yourself internally between dreading the thought of her giving into her urges and the need between your legs begging her to touch you again. To finish what she started hours ago at the bar.

The reason behind her hesitation both confuses and alarms you. It can’t be because she fears retaliation from your family, Natasha isn’t afraid of anyone. Now that she knows who your father is, the reason behind her self restraint is even more confusing. 

Your father is known throughout the underworld of mob leaders as a kinder, more gentle leader. He never takes a life, not unless that life threatens others. He protects his community in any way he can. To Natasha, he’s an easy mark. A weak, pathetic excuse for a man. 

She didn’t even know whose territory she’d been taking over for months, uncaring of who she was leaching from. But now that she knows it’s your father, an idea starts to form in her head, a way for her to kill two birds with one stone. 

You see it on her face the moment it happens, the second her mind becomes resolute on whatever plan she’s making for herself. 

The thought makes you feel sick to your stomach, the idea that you and your father are now known to Natasha, that her plans now involve you both, makes you want to vomit. 

—----------------------------------

It's another ten minutes of Natasha silently staring at you and sipping away at her drink before you work up the courage to speak.  “What will you do with me?” You ask, your voice quiet. 

“Whatever do you mean?” Natasha responds, feigning innocence and looking entirely too amused with your attempt at confidence.

“You know who I am now. You know who my father is. What are you going to do with me?” You press again, this time shoving your fear away and looking her in the eye. “If you're going to kill me I’d rather you get it over with.” 

Natasha tenses at your words, her demeanor changing from lazy and relaxed, teasing even, to angry. The shift in atmosphere scares you, making you shuffle back against the corner of the armchair. 

Natasha watches you as you do so, groaning and leaning back in her chair, her hands coming up to drag down her face. “Fuck, your so pretty when your scared.” 

Her crude words light a flame in your cheeks, a red tint licking over your features as you curl in on yourself more, readily ignoring the burning sensation between your legs ignited by her words and groans. 

“Like I said before, Angle, you're of no use to me dead.” She says, as if she’s bored of saying it again. “So no. I won’t be killing you any time soon.” 

You nod your head slowly at her words, trying to accept them and take in what they mean for you. If she doesn’t want to kill you, what does she want?

Natasha twitches in her seat across from you, losing her internal battle of self restraint, and draws you out of your thoughts, bringing you attention to her. She stands, making her way over to you in quick strides and grabbing you by the neck before you can even process her standing from her seat. 

You look up at her, confusion and fear evident in your eyes as you claw at her hand and splutter for breath. Natasha allows herself a moment to take in the sight in front of her before she comes to her senses and pulls back, muttering a frustrated “fuck” while you cough for air. 

“I’m not used to having to control myself.” She mumbles angrily, pacing back and forth in front of you. “When I want something, I take it. When I want someone, I have them.” 

Natasha stops pacing suddenly and turns to look at you so fast you're sure she must have given herself some form of whiplash. “No. I have to do things differently with you. I have to do this the right way.”  She says the last words through gritted teeth, as if they physically pains and disgusts her. 

“Get out.” She says, before shouting a woman's name over her shoulder and making her way back over to her desk.

“What?” You ask, shock clear in your voice as you stand from your chair on shaky legs. 

A woman in a maid outfit enters the room with her head bowed, her voice coming out even but fearful as she asks, “You called for me, miss?” Natasha nods her head and commands the woman to take you to a guest room, to bring you a change of clothes and a hot meal. 

“You're just going to feed me and let me sleep?” You ask, skeptical of the woman's unexpected kindness toward you. 

Natasha snaps her head up to look at you, her eyes wide and challenging. “Would you prefer to stay here and be bent over my desk?” 

Her words light a heat in your stomach, one that you can’t ignore but also brings you shame. You shouldn’t feel that way about her, at all, yet you do. You shake your head at her words, pleading with any god out there that she wouldn’t make the offer again, not sure you could resist her a second time. 

“No?” Natasha taunts, her eyes zeroing in on the squeeze of your thighs. “Leave then. Maria will show you to your room.” 

You follow the brunette out of the room without another complaint. She leads you up a big set of stairs and down various long hallways with lots of twists and turns before she stops outside what must be the guest room and opens the door for you to step inside. 

Maria gets you a fresh pair of clothes then leaves to let you change, informing you that she will be back soon with dinner. You take the alone time to scope out the room, checking if you can find any way out.

You try the door first, though it is locked as you expected. Next you make your way over to the windows, each one locked with bars on the outside. You're trapped, there's no way out. You could scour the room with something to defend yourself, but you passed at least ten men with guns on your way in, so there would be no point. 

Plus, if you did manage to make it out, you’d only be putting your father and your family in danger. There's no way she would just let you escape and let you live.

Instead, you change your clothes and hop onto the large king size bed, pulling back the silk covers and crawling underneath. You don’t have the energy to wait for the maid to come back with food, you're not even sure you’d have an appetite even if she walked through the door with it now. 

So you lie down on the unnaturally comfortable bed, your body melting into the mattress as you close your eyes, letting the exhaustion take over, and hope that when you wake in the morning you’ll realize that this was one big, long nightmare. 

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

Part Three

A/n- Hope ye like it so far, let me know what you think. Next part should be out inna week.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #Natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff angst #Natasha romanoff series #dark natasha romanoff x reader #dark natasha romanoff

[wandas-lunchbox]

so sick of you (chapter 3)

series summary: you and natasha have ended your relationship due to her cheating on you. it's been 5 years now. what happens when you bump into her at a bar on your birthday?

warnings: some swearing, but otherwise none

a/n: omg guys i’m acc so sorry this took 2 whole years to write. we’re gonna pretend that never happened…. you may end up having to wait another 5 years for the next chapter

finally i was on the plane. it felt like it took forever. it was an overnight flight which was good because i could finally get some sleep. wanda like the rich ass she is got us business class so we were pretty comfortable throughout the plane journey.

a couple hours had past and we were still mid air, wanda and i were sat next to eachother and in the chair next to me was a fairly pretty woman. ok i lied she was gorgeous. her hair was brunette with waves, she wore these black rimmed glasses and her lips looked so beautiful. i dont know why i noticed her lips but i guess i just did.

oh well.

i decided to get up and strech my legs for a bit, i felt some cramps in my legs so i needed to walk. wanda was snoring next to me while when harry met sally was playing in the background. i took a photo of her for evidence later. i walk up and head to the bathroom. it was occupied.

i stood there for a good whole 5 minutes till i heard faint moans coming from the bathroom. what the fuck. why are people having sex in an airplane bathroom, thats the most disgusting thing ever. they needed to hurry up bc a girls got to piss.

the beautiful brunette girl walks up to me, or well i guess to the bathroom. i admire her face.

“are people seriously having sex in an airplane bathroom”

i laugh and continue to look at her.

“honestly, like i understand doing it in your seat but the bathroom? seriously? thats the dirtiest place on the whole plane,” i said

“she laughs, are you headed to italy or is it a stop before another flight?” she asks

“yeah i’m going to italy, a friend actually planned this as a birthday trip, what about you?”

“oh, i live in italy, sorry let me rephrase i am italian and i used to live there, just visiting some family” she says

“oh nice, you’ll have to tell me some of the great places to go”

“of course!” she smiles at me

suddenly the bathroom door opens and a lady and a man walk out. both of them fixing their hair snd their clothes.

“after you,” the brunette says

“wait, i never ended up getting your name”

“we still have a whole 2 hours left of this flight, don’t worry you’ll figure it out” she laughs

i lock the door and began to do my buiness. i look at myself and i think i’ve seen death. my hair was a mess, and eye bags darker than ever.

i fixed it as a quick as possible before returning to my seat.

i smile at the girl before she goes in. when i sit at my seat i slap wanda a couple times trying to tell her what happened just now. she just slaps me back harder and starts snoring.

this girl could cause an avalanche with her snoring.

suddenly the girl returns to her seat and we continue to converse as if nothing had stopped us before.

we spoke as if we had known eachother forever. maybe we did?

the flight started to come to an end but our conversation definitely didn’t.

“you got a number or something?”

“yeah here let me type it for you.

i type in my number and write “your plain gf ;)” misspelling plane.

she laughs and points it out. “guess you’re a basic girlfriend then”

i look at her confused, only for her to show me i misspelled plane. i laugh and blush akwardly.

when the plane lands it takes forever for me to wake up wanda. this bitch just wouldn’t wake up.

after what felt like 3 trillion years, i get her up and we start to get ready to leave the plane.

we were in italy…

a/n: omg finally chapter 3 is out

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist making a new one

new year new me 😜

#natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #black widow smut #marvel #marvel women #marvel smut #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #series #natasha romanoff series #wanda maximoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader angst #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader fluff #wanda x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x you

[scarlettsandmaroons]

shiny family | n. romanoff

about me | series masterlist | natasha romanoff masterlist

pairing: professor!natasha romanoff x collegestudent!reader

chapter eight | chapter nine: for some it was paradise

chapter summary: you were tired of the hot and cold. you were tired of her. you were tired. so much so that you wish you just never met her. and frankly, she feels the same.

warnings: smut; minimal spanking, slight manhandling, choking | small mommy kink | dom!natasha romanoff, slightly bratty but sub!reader. angst; fight. unedited, long.

a/n: hi, it's me again. I KNOOOW IT'S BEEN TOO LONG. but oh lord dear god, have i been busy 😭 but i hope you like this one. had a fun time planning it out in my head. also this is kinda long, and ugly because I NEVER PROOFREAD ANYTHING. but i'll definitely get around to proofreading everything once i wrap up the series.

the box was wet from your sweating hands. your hands has been doing that for a bit now, you weren't sure when it started. "happy birthday, babe," you smiled, your palms unconsiously taking turns rubbing down your sides which billy noticed. 

he lazily stood up the couch to put his body against yours, and rest his chin on your head. "baby, you know you didn't have to," he whispers. he set your gift down before he took your wrists and had your palms rub against his shirt instead. "you've given me too much already," he says, his voice honeyed and soft. 

he was right. you've given him a gift for every day that led up to his birthday. you were never a gift giver. but you just got the need to get him something. and the urge became compelling the more you saw the smile on his face and realized how much you'd hate if it faded away. 

"you're the best present i could ever have. you're enough," he kissed your forehead, allowing a gap between you when his hands left yours on his lower back so it can hold your waist instead. "you know that right?" he was looking at you so intently. so lovingly. 

you smiled. the brown in his eyes were a lot brighter than yours. you were always jealous of that. you could clearly see the lines that make up his iris, and the dark outline around it. it was always unlike his mother's who had blue-green eyes. wanda had green eyes. 

natasha had green eyes. 

she's not his biological mother, but she had green eyes. 

you always liked mrs. romanoff's green eyes. 

you always liked mrs. romanoff. 

and there she goes again, natasha's in your thoughts again. 

natasha natasha natasha natasha.

someone cleared their throat. 

and by what instinct, you pulled away, lightly hitting his chest and laughing, "don't be so cheesy," you don't know why you said that. why did you say that? why did you say that?

you were sure he noticed, you could feel his eyes on you for a bit, but you weren't looking. you were too busy looking around as if you'd been caught in what mischievous act hugging your boyfriend was. 

"happy birthday, bill." 

mrs. romanoff.

the moment she caught your eyes, you couldn't look away. no matter how hard you tried. no matter how much you wanted to. she took every bit of your attention. and every bit of you. and you saw her lips move, but your ears couldn't hear anything other than her grunts, and your moans, and her skin slapping against yours. 

"please... i need you."

you weren't sure what she was doing to you. what spell does she have on you? something was swirling in your gut, and pinching at your heart, and burning your skin, and you couldn't comprehend the mix of feelings. the only thing you knew was that she didn't look at you. she didn't look at you. she didn't look at you. she didn't look at you. 

"y/n, babe, are you okay?" 

she didn't look at you. 

"does momma still make you nervous?"

she came in, and then she left as if you weren't there. 

"bubba, you know she's nice. you guys were making progress, weren't you?"

there was not one second that her green eyes took interest in looking at you. 

"she likes you." 

why didn't she look at you. 

"you don't have to be afraid of her."

why won't she look at you?

"okay?" 

you didn't break out of the void that's your thoughts until you felt his hand on your shoulder. and by then he was already standing so close to you again, and looking at you with the same loving gaze as he was before. you opened your mouth, and silence poured out of your lips. 

then mrs. maximoff saved you. 

you heard her call billy from upstairs for plates. 

billy runs his hand down your arm before smiling at you, "i'm sorry. i promise you'll have me all to yourself tonight," he says before running off to his mother. 

you couldn't think. natasha took too much of your brain again. and your body had to fend for itself. your feet took you to the kitchen, and your hands grabbed everything in sight to make yourself busy. natasha was there. your body knew that much, and decided that this is where you should be. your body knows a lot about natasha. natasha is the only thing your body knows. so when your brain shuts down, your body escapes to the only thing it knows. 

you don't what you were doing there. you wanted to get out. you needed to. you needed to breathe. natasha was by the counter. you were in the small round table near the entrance. you couldn't see her. you had your back against her. 

"hey...," you said. 

nothing. 

then you felt a swift breeze behind you. 

she left. 

and you felt your heart crack just a little. 

your heart was full of cracks. your heart has been full of cracks since the first moment you saw her. but nothing would ever compare to the shattered pieces your heart is barely held into right now. 

what had you done?

you fucked her, that's what. a married woman—your boyfriend's mother fucked you and you let her.

but no, you were fine. she made you eggs the day after. she let her fingertips wander off to your skin too long when she passed by. she pulled your hair to one side so she can lay her warm touch on your bare neck while you sit in her office chair and she stands behind you. she... let you look at her. she smiled at you. 

she was fine. 

you were fine. 

"what the hell is wrong with you?"

people started pouring in before lunch. you've never once recognized a face among the stream of people that went straight to the back yard where billy's "wanda-insisted-barbecue-party" took place. but you weren't really paying attention. you were too busy eyeing natasha from the other side of the hallway. 

she came in the kitchen the moment you left. and since then, you've been standing in the dining room, across the hall even when people trampled into the house and you could only see nothing but an occasional glimpse of her smoking a cigarette in a black fitted dress between the gaps of figures that came running in. 

your phone dinged. and it was billy looking for you. he texted you a photo of the plate he prepared for you and an emoji with its tongue out. "i set aside your favorite. come out, where are you?" his text read. 

you could've gone out. after all it was the right thing to do. your boyfriend was looking for you and was right outside. but the people in the hallways were clearing up, and by the time the door closed, you marched, not to your boyfriend, but to who your feet knew you wanted more. 

"what the hell is wrong with you?"

she didn't look at you, "shut your mouth. people can hear you," she says, barely acknowledging your presence. 

a wave of deja vu hits you. 

but not the same as to where you'd cry and blame her for being mean. 

"shut my mouth?" you chuckled, "i thought you'd be the type to like it wide open," you challenged. 

she didn't do anything at first. she was waiting until the very moment the noise outside came muffled when the sliding door to the backyard closed. 

and then she smiled. your chest shrunk. she flicked of her cigarette and you saw it fly to the floor. 

and then she had your neck in a bruising hold. so tight you could barely breath. she dragged you to the counter, her body pushing against yours, and her eyes burning with all the emotion you can no longer read.

she pushed your back to lay on the surface, pinning your wrist above your head. "i told you to shut your mouth didn't i?" 

for a moment, all reason turned to the liquid you feel wet your underwear. but you resisted, you held the hand holding your neck, tapping out when tears started forming your eyes from the lack of air.

and then she let you go completely, stepping far, and facing away.  

you were catching all the air you lost, your body melting to the floor where you kneeled with your back against the island's side, your hand clutching your chest. 

but you didn't step down. never against her again. "you fuck me and pretend i don't exist. how does that work?" you say, meaning to sound much angrier but the air you caught onto didn't allow anything other than a few breathless words. 

a classmate of yours delivered you a letter from mrs. romanoff a week ago. it was a transfer letter from her class to ms. parker's with her signature on it. she was letting you go. 

when you came to class the day after, someone was already sitting on the seat you practically claimed was your own. the one behind that big guy who you'd hide behind of. 

she didn't care that you were there though. she didn't care about you at all. she completely ignored your blatant chasing of her in the hallways, or your greetings, or your "why are you transferring me?" 

she started locking her office door for anyone who might barge into it. she completely ignores your very being in dinner, looking at you as if she can see the wall through your fading existence. she stopped making you breakfast, or being in the same room as you. 

she stopped looking at you. 

"look at me!" you say when your energy regains and you stand up. "what had i ever done to you! all i've ever wanted was for you to see me...," your voice cracks. "i don't know why i seek for your validation so much. why i care for what you think. why i let you define who i am. why do i live for you?" 

"y/n...," she whispers into a warning. 

"no. why? why? why do i care so much for you. why can't i stay away from you? why do i keep on chasing after you, running after you, pulling you, begging you. why can't i live when you don't look at me?" tears started running down your cheeks. you weren't sure why, all you were sure of was that you wanted to stop. you wanted everything to stop. you wanted her to leave your life forever because until she came, you were fine. why did she have to come? why did she have to ruin you? "you know what? i will give up anything to not have met you," you blurt out when you receive zero response from her frozen body. "i wish i never met you, mrs. romanoff."

"how do you think i feel?"

"what?" 

she turned around. "how do you think i felt when i found out that the girl i liked was the same girl my son liked?" 

you didn't know what to say. memories came tumbling down your mind, tangled to knots. thoughts were nothing but a mere "what?". and by then you just though it best to stay silent. 

"you came into my office. you were gutsy, you were brave, and i thought: great, another student i can break. but you were pretty, and you were awkward, and sweet. and the moment i entered my class, you were the first person i saw," the distance between you two was more than you were comfortable of. you wanted her closer. but you didn't move. and she, she was already pulling you closer by her eyes, what more could she do? "i didn't even have to look for you, i just saw you. even at the very back, behind a giant guy, i still saw you. i looked at you, and i haven't looked away ever since." 

you looked away, unable to hold the eye contact. "but it felt like you never saw me..., i wanted you to look at me so badly..." 

she chuckled dryly, almost bitterly, "you were the only one i saw. i couldn't remember a single person in my classes, i don't recognize anyone but you," something pulled you back to her eyes. her face was relaxed. her shoulders were loose, and she was present, with you. just with you. for the first time, she seemed aimless. like she wasn't trying to get anywhere, or do anything. like she didn't have a goal. "i hate that the only thing i can see is the way your lips twitch, or your leg bounce, our your fingers fiddle with your pen. i see when you get lost in what i teach from the way your eyebrows furrow and you mouth a what the fuck before giving up. i see the way you actively try to hide behind your classmate, or the way you try to be as small as possible in my class. i see you and everything you do, and i hate it.

"i hate that i think about you. that i can't escape from you. even on the weekends, i think about that day when you came in with lip gloss on instead of lipstick and i wonder what kept you up at night that you ran late. when i'm going home, i think about you and if you'd caught the bus on your way home, or if you even ride the bus. and when you got drunk, i was in my office the next day, and i was wondering if you took medicine, if you were okay, if you were hungover, if you stayed over or if you went to your house."

your phone rang. and the air shatters. 

you looked at natasha for a second, but she was already looking away. so you brought your phone up to your ear and turned away, "billy! hi...," you greeted with faux enthusiasm. 

you could hear the noise from his end, the people talking, the meats cooking, "where are you? i want to introduce you to people!" he says. you can hear the smile in his voice. 

you gave an emphatic smile, "i'm trying to choose a dress before i shower. i might take a while."

"i'm sure you'd like great even in a shirt and sweatpants, you're perfect!" 

you forced a chuckle. "thank you." 

"tell me if i need to get you, okay?" 

"okay."

"i love you!"

silence.

"i love you too." 

you closed the call. and natasha passed right by you on her way out, but you caught her arm before she made it. "wait," you say, turning her around. "we're not finished."

"i don't know what else you want to hear dear, but you should really get back to your boyfriend," she attempts to leave again, but your grip tightens. 

"so what—so you can ignore me again? so you can pretend i don't exist one day, and tell me you only see me the next?" you're angry now. you were challenging the challenger. but you're tired of letting her have all the cards, of playing a game clearly only she has control over. you're tired of her. "i'm tired of the hot and cold, mrs. romanoff," i'm tired of one day feeling okay to call you natasha, one day feeling okay calling you mommy, then feeling i'm only entitled to a mrs. romanoff the next. 

she looked away, smirking bitterly as if thinking about it. "fine, you want to hear it?" she says, breaking out of your hold. "you want to hear me say it?" 

you were afraid she was angry. but she wasn't. her voice was raising. she wasn't shouting, and her eyes, they weren't staring soullessly into you. her jaw wasn't clenched, and somehow, you feel her racing heart, and her subtly heaving chest. 

"you want to hear that it's wrong? it's wrong, y/n. you were my student. and i tell myself that whenever i think of you, whenever i see you, whenever i feel you, whenever i want you. when my heart skips, when i smile, when i grow excited to walk into my class because i know you'd be there, when i'm practically pulling the sun out of its sleep so it can be the next day, and i can see you again. i tell myself it's wrong. you were my student, and i was married," you could see the way her pupils dilated. she was thinking of wanda. you can always tell when she's thinking of wanda. "but i still wanted you."

it was odd to think that while the world went on outside, the two of you shared a moment as if frozen in time inside the privacy of her home. that in this very moment, it was just you and her, and whatever desire you have for each other. nobody else, nothing. 

it was always like that between you two. it was always you and her. you always forget about anyone else outside your bubble. you forget about wanda, you forget about billy. 

but she doesn't. 

she lives with the guilt while you pretend it doesn't exist. 

"so how do you think i felt when i finally pieced together that the girl i like was not just my student, but the girl my son was in love with? that she's as much a part of this family as i was?"

you were looking up at her, "you genuinely liked me...," you whisper. 

"i tried not to. i tried to hate you. i ignored you, i humiliated you. you were my student. i needed to treat you as such. but i'm sorry, it was personal. i was actively trying to push you away. and then you were billy's bestfriend, and i had to hate you even more. but i couldn't," she was kinder. her voice was softer, just above a whisper. "and my wife was trying to fix our marriage. she was begging me to come home, billy needed me to come home. and i thought when i did, i'd finally escape you. i'd mend my marriage, and i'd stop caring about you. but even here you haunt me." 

"natasha i—" 

"i had to try extra hard, but i still wanted you, i burned for you, i desired you, i needed you. and i had always been terrible at resisting you. i always slipped before. and this time, i just... i couldn't," she paused to take a breath. and then she looked away with her lips that forced into a half smile. "but you love billy...," she whispers, completely avoiding your eyes. "and you should, i know him. he'll treat you right—"

you kissed her. you pulled her in by the neck, and you kissed her. 

her hand quickly rested above your hips, pulling you impossibly close to her while your fingers found shelter between her crimson locks. 

the kiss was hungry, you were sucking in so much of each other, and she had but one goal: to make you hers. 

you were going around the kitchen, kissing, feeling for any surface she can take you on. your back hit a wall, but you flipped her over so her back was against the fridge. your hands were quickly feeling for her, running quickly against her sides, running back up on her abdomen past her breast, and back to her neck. you were trying to feel so much of her, every part of her like there wasn't enough time of the day. 

because there really wasn't. 

she was working on your denim shorts, and the lace that tied your top from the back. she switched with you so your back was against the cold metal fridge. and she pulled back, looking at you, panting, like silently asking for your permission. 

her hair was all over the place, and you took it upon you to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. you smiled. 

you held her hand on your neck, and you let it travel down your body. you lifted your chin to what the fridge behind you allowed when she caught on, and you pulled her hand to the gap between your covered breasts. and when it reached your stomach, you made sure to roll your eyes in the way that you knew might drive her crazy. 

and then you pushed your hands between your two bodies so it reaches your wet core. you didn't let her touch. you felt her fingers extend in an attempt to reach it, but you held it far enough so she can only feel how warm you were without feeling you.

you made sure not to look at her. you closed your eyes, and you let your chest rise, and your mouth open slightly. it was as if you were playing with a sex toy. like you were holding a vibrator and teasing yourself with it.

you know she's in-charge. she would be in a few seconds, but you wanted to play a little. the only card you have against her was this, her imminent desire for you. and you wanted to use it. you wanted to tease her. you wanted to feel how it is to control her the same way she does you. 

so you made it erotic, more than it should normally be—the way your back arched when you finally let her touch, controlling how long her finger stays, or how hard she pressed. 

and then you let her fingers press a little harder on your swollen bud, and you moaned. she flipped you. she flipped you so quickly that you didn't realize your front was against the wall until she carried you by the stomach and bent you over the counter.

she made you spread your legs. and then her fingers danced on your core. she pressed on every part of you until you were grinding on her. "natasha, don't—" you breathed, "don't tease me," you were trying to stay in control, maybe her confession got to your little head. but you were trying to tell her what to do. and she wasn't having it. you had you time, your fun.

you gasped when she cupped your sex with her palm. "i think, you need to learn to be patient, dear," she whispers against your ear.

you felt her weight. and her warmth, and somehow, with the very little reason left in your body, you remembered the people in the backyard. the people who can pass through the hallway, and find a clear glimpse of you and the birthday boy's mother. 

you couldn't move. the weight of her body held you in place. but you forced your hand to find the back of her head. you resisted the moans. you resisted the uncontrollable urge to grind against her hand by forcing yourself still.

"natasha, someone might see," you whispered. "we can't do this here."

suddenly, she was rubbing your pussy with the entirety of her palm. she was rubbing your swollen nub, and your hole, and everything that her hand covered. your mouth dropped wide open to let out the most animalistic moan you had absolutely no control of. and then she pulls your hair back so your ear is right where her lips were. 

"so?" 

the voice of reason left, and it took all your inhibitions with it. 

anybody can walk in or even pass by and they will be met by you being fucked on top of the kitchen island. they're going to see what slut billy's girlfriend is. what slut she is for his mother. but you can't stop grinding on her hand. the mere thought of someone seeing you being fucked out makes you grind even harder until her palm leaves your clothed pussy, and lands hard on your covered ass.

"mommy doesn't like naughty girls. you should know that, right?" she slaps you again. and then again. and then again. "didn't i tell you to be patient?"

she removed your shorts before pushing herself against you, pressing down on your body while pulling your hair as far as your body allowed. you can feel her bulge against your cunt. and you couldn't help but grind against her dress, fully knowing the juices you'll be leaving on it, but frankly you couldn't care less.

"please, i just need you to fuck me.." you cried. "please, nat..."

her eyebrows pinched almost in insincere pity. "now, is that the way to talk to your mommy?"

"mommy, please..."

she made you sit on the counter, never letting go of the grip she had on your hair. you were panting. and huffing. you were like a puppy in heat as you faced her with legs all spread out on top of the counter. you presented her with the cunt that only she gets to touch. the pussy that she's claimed the first time she touched you. 

her eyes softened for a moment when she comes as close as the counter gave her the space to. her other hand falls on your waist, while the other tugs at your hair so your faces are just an inch apart. she looked concerned, she looked like she was about to give into what you want. but then she doesn't.

"you have no idea how much i wanted you," she says, and suddenly her hand's on your neck, while the other finally makes contact with your cunt, pushing your lace underwear to the side. "i thought it would be less after i that night, but no... i just... i couldn't resist. i wanted you so badly, and i keep wanting more of you everyday."

your hips grinded harder against her fingers and then finally when she slammed two into you. and your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hips meeting her thrusts.

"god, yes mommy. please fuck me."

her grip on your neck tightens. "but you're billy's aren't you?" something in your stomach tightens. and you weren't sure what billy's mother wanted you to say. you weren't sure if she knew what she was saying, and what she was making you say. 

but you sensed it. she sounded angry upset. and with the way she's restricting your airways, and the way she's slamming unforgivingly against your pussy, you knew.

she was fucking her son's girlfriend on the kitchen counter on his birthday. yet, you feel it inappropriate to tell his mother that you don't belong to her son, you're boyfriend. 

but it was only true. "no...," you say. 

you need her. her fingers aren't enough. you wanted her to stretch you out. you wanted to feel her against every part of your cunt.

"right...," she says. "who do you belong to, sweetheart?" her grip tightens even more when she adds another finger and your hips jolts up as your eyes roll impossibly further back into your head. 

you were screaming her name. chanting it over and over again until her grip tightens even more. "quickly, sweetheart. i heard the backyard door open," she was bluffing. but you wouldn't know. 

you couldn't breath. your hand takes grasp of her wrist, but it wasn't to stop her hand from gripping your neck. you couldn't care less about air when she just added the last of her four fingers while her thumb circles your clit. 

you were chasing your high. you wanted this so badly. the way she was reaching spots, rubbing against parts you didn't even know existed. you were losing your mind. you couldn't breath, you couldn't think. your mind was blank, and it might be that you're about to pass out, that your close to seeing stars, but you knew that if you were on your deathbed, this might just be the memory you'd be wishing to relive. 

"who do you belong to?"

you grinded even harder, your hips were writhing against the fingers that only increased in pace. you were hazy. you were a moaning mess. and right at the very last second when you can feel yourself slipping away in pure ecstasy and an incredibly limited amount of air, you were able to mutter, "you."

and then she lets you go right at the very second you exploded in her fingers. her hand was no longer on your neck, it was pressing on your chest just below your collarbone as she lets you ride out your high. your moans. her name. your cries. it was all music to her ears.

your consciousness came back, all along with your reason, and reality itself. you opened your eyes, panting. 

and quickly, you dressed yourself, and she fixed herself when you did hear the backyard door open this time, and footsteps came approaching. 

she pulled you in by the hand one last time to land a kiss on your forehead before she stepped away, and right on time, wanda came in. 

"oh god, there you two are! we have been waiting for you to come out!" wanda says, rushing towards natasha but laying a careful touch on you when she passed by, "billy's looking for you dear," she tells you before she goes to the fridge where natasha waits for her. "oh lord, look at you! what ever happened to your hair?" while mrs. maximoff was fussing over her wife against the fridge, natasha was looking at you with a smug look on her face, like you two shared an inside joke no one in the world would ever know about. "quickly, quickly. we have to give a toast for the twins."

you left the two alone, going out to the backyard first where billy quickly welcomed you to his arms. you thought they deserved the privacy, you thought it was respectful to do so. 

billy had his arm around your waist while he introduced you to absolutely everyone. the names got lost in your mind, but the few people you took note of were: tony stark, clint barton, bruce banner, and steve rogers. 

half of them were professors. the other, you knew to be very famous. but billy left you with them when he was called onto by someone asking for help with the grill, and they were surprisingly, really fun.

you've learned they were very close to natasha. and now, you assumed that maybe they were this little group. from the way the four of them stuck together the entire time, you only assumed they were more here for natasha than wanda, or the party. 

"so this is the special girl, huh?" clint opens with a one-arm hug. 

"if you get tired of romanoff's bs, call me. i'll get you on a stark workshop, and i'll give you a job,"tony interjects, giving you a card. "you don't need romanoff." 

"hell, he'll give you a house," clint laughs. 

"or a mansion," stark adds. "whatever floats your boat." 

 "ask him to pay for you college fund. that's how i guaranteed free college for my three kids," clint whispers. 

"it's nice to meet you, y/n l/n," steve cuts in between both tony and clint, and offered you his hand."i'm steve rogers, history and geography. nat has told us so much about you."

"i'm uh—bruce banner. chemistry," the other one says. 

you knew who they were. everyone knew who they were. but you still shook their hands like you didn't. 

soon, more than a few minutes of the four's overlapping attempts in making conversation with you, you heard a soft call for a toast. 

before you could fully let sink in the image of vision and tommy, and wanda at the center with a glass raised and a butter knife gently hitting it, and natasha romanoff, billy snatched you right from the group and pulled you right to where they stood—the pieces of a broken family that still stands so tall and perfect. 

you wanted to appreciate them a bit, while you and billy walk towards them. these people are a part of a big messy tree which you can guess has a lot of history. they were broken, and while the pieces meet, nothing would mend them back together. 

but that's the beauty of it. you could see how perfectly they all fit together, even natasha. despite the gaps in between, this works. this dynamic works. they stay the family everyone wants to have despite the cracks. they stay perfect, and shiny. 

you wanted to take a good look at them, before you break it. before you break it more. before you officially become a piece that would ruin the dynamic, the family, the specificity of everything that makes this work. 

billy gives you a peck on the forehead, before letting you off to natasha who stands a few steps behind wanda who now had the twins on either side. 

you didn't say anything, you just stood right next to her as if she just hadn't make you see stars 30 minutes ago. 

and then suddenly you felt an arm snake behind you and pull you closer to her by the waist before it rested on the lower part of your back. she didn't say anything, she just took a sip from her glass as if her finger wasn't tracing patterns while wresting on your back. 

"natasha," you whispered, looking at the grass beneath you. "i like you too."

she didn't respond for a while. but you feel her push her hand into the back pocket of your denim shorts. 

"then how about we sneak out and go on a little date?"

you knew that the second she stepped out, and the moment you found a chance to follow her, that was the beginning of a secret that would ruin everything that you have. 

and frankly, that did not stop you from getting on her motorcycle anyway. 

#ath: natasha romanoff series (wasn't midnight rain) #ath: natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff series #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fanfic #billy maximoff #billy maximoff x reader #billy maximoff fanfic #billy maximoff imagine #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu fanfic #mcu imagine

[gayerthanevertbh]

say your prayers masterlist.

– summary : your school have church service once every week. of course, as a good little schoolgirl you are, you attend to it. which means you always have to see your priestess, natasha, who you are secretly infatuated with. until there was an unexpected turn that made you feel something else other than good. but maybe, even better. 

– warning(s) : sexual/dark themes - 18+ YOU’VE BEEN WARNED! non-con/dub-con, religious themes, sacrilegious acts, blasphemy of religion, biblical references, age difference (natasha is 41, reader is 18), heavily detailed smut, dark!natasha but can be soft at times, strict/religious parents, and more. 

– notes: ta-da! please read the warnings as usual, i hope you will get ready for this. i am still doing more research so please do bear with me lol <3 if you’d like to listen to the playlist, there’s one here. 

spotify playlist (to get in your feels)

dark!fic masterlist.

comment if you’d like to be added on the tag list!

                                                         /

chapter one: the act from the priestess 

chapter two: the aftermath.

chapter three: soft.

chapter four: the touch of an actual sinner.

chapter five: visiting.

chapter six: the priestess’ closed book.

chapter seven: i love you, don’t you love me too?

chapter eight: come here, be with me.

chapter nine: the priestess and her child

epilogue

more to come!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff series #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fanfic #dark!natasha romanoff x reader #dark!natasha #dark!natasha x reader #black widow x reader #black widow x you #say your prayers series

[sarahwroteathing]

At Arm’s Length (1)

[Natasha Romanoff x Reader]

Word Count: 2071

Summary: A night out with friends brings back memories of a relationship you’ve been doing your best to forget.

Warnings: cursing, alcohol, injury

A/N: This one has been on the back burner for a long, long time. Let me know what you guys think!

“What do you mean you’re leaving? It’s only 10:00,” Kristen protested, trying to tug you back into your seat. 

“I’ve been up at 5:00 every morning this week. Not all of us have your freakish stamina,” you laughed, fighting hard enough against her grip that she let you pull her up out of her chair.

“Guys, help me out here!” she called back to your friends still seated at the table. 

Technically, they were her friends, but Kristen had  adopted you into the group when you moved to Boston last year and began teaching across the hall from her. You never spent much time with any of them one-on-one, but they all seemed fond of you and invited you to most of their group outings. 

“I don’t know, man. Maybe you should both go home. You’re supposed to be shaping the youth of America, and I can guarantee you my school mom  Mrs. McMillain wasn’t out bar hopping on Friday nights,” one of them chimed in. 

“She was like 50, and maybe she was! Don’t be fuckin rude,” Kristen argued, wrapping her arms resolutely around your waist when she felt you trying to sneak away.

“You know I’m going to see you tomorrow for lunch, right? You can make it 14 hours without my presence, I promise.”

“Can I, though?”

“Oh my god, please. I’m so tired. I’ll be so much better company tomorrow if I can go home and rest.”

You managed to wiggle your way out of her arms, and she gave a huff of annoyance.

“Sure, but there’s a cute girl at the bar who’s been staring at you for like ten minutes. If you can’t manage the whole woman, at least take her number home with you?”

You rolled your eyes but glanced in the direction of Kristen’s entirely unsubtle gesture. There was indeed a woman eyeing you from her bar stool, smile bright as red curls escaped from her loose braid. Something in your chest clenched at the sight. 

“Um…” You cleared your throat. “Remember that story you told me about a time in college when you drank your bodyweight in rum and cokes? And now even the thought of drinking one makes a little piece of you die inside?” you asked, forcing your eyes away from the woman at the bar. 

“Ugh. Yes,” Kristen said, scrunching her nose. 

“Redheads are my rum and coke.”

“You’ve dated that many redheads?” 

“Not really. What does that tell you about how badly the last one ended?”

Kristen grimaced sympathetically, but as always, she couldn’t stay serious for very long. 

“Sounds like you need to flush it out of your system. I’ll let you leave if you let me make you an online dating profile. You can choose which app.”

She held out her hand, wiggling her eyebrows with a triumphant smile as you sighed and shook it reluctantly. 

“Let the record show that you’re a monster, but I’m too tired to argue about it now.”

“A pleasure doing business with you,” Kristen said, moving out of your way before shouting back to the rest of the table. “Everyone send me your best pics of Y/N! We’re focus grouping this shit!” 

You scoffed at their collective cheer, waving your goodbye over your shoulder at the chorus of good nights that followed. 

The chill night air was a revelation after hours in the crowded bar, and you breathed deep, leaning back against the wall as you called an Uber. Seven minutes away. As your eyes tracked the dot on the screen, your mind began to wander, to remember. 

Red curls pushed out of striking green eyes. A reluctant smile that brightened and beamed with time and attention. Incidental touches, strong but endlessly gentle, like she half expected everything she touched to shatter or disappear. Even you. Especially you. 

But you supposed there was a reason for that.

Two years ago, you met Natalie Rushman, the executive assistant of some politician you were embarrassed to admit you’d never heard of. She was sharp and funny, bold and fearless in a way that mystified you. For her part, Nat seemed equally captivated by your gentleness, letting you soften her harsher edges over a six month relationship.

But without warning, she vanished. Apartment vacant. Number disconnected. No indication that she had ever existed at all. You were heartbroken. Betrayed. Confused. But the world kept turning, so you struggled to keep up. Every day was a little easier than the day before. 

Almost a year later, you saw her again, this time splashed across every news channel and online publication. Every journalist and reporter worth their salt was frantic to cover the fall of SHIELD, the massive leak of classified files, the generations-long corruption. Personnel files were among the first to catch the spotlight. 

Natalia Alianovna Romanov had been among them, of course, complete with a long list of titles and aliases. You read enough to find the name you wanted, the one you dreaded but expected to find, then went no further. What good would it do now, to know her in spite of herself? None at all. The very thought made your skin crawl, your stomach lurch in protest.  

Still, you knew there was a very real possibility that you were present in at least one mission report. She needn’t have bothered with an alias and an asinine job otherwise. Any of the Hydra agents that had been embedded within SHIELD at the time of your relationship could know about you, know where you live, where you work. While various agencies were doing their best to round up the traitors, you had no doubt many would manage to slip through the cracks. That’s when the deep, nauseating panic had set in. 

Pure, frenzied survival instinct had guided you from that point forward. You quit your job, packed all your belongings, and fled to Boston, where your sister Lena had received you with open arms and terrified eyes. 

You took a job at a private school, teaching third grade. The pay was a little better here than it had been in New York, and the rent was a little cheaper. Fortunately, it hadn’t taken you long to find your feet. 

Your phone chimed in your hand as a car pulled up to the curb, jolting you out of your thoughts. 

Convinced you’d done quite enough remembering, you tried to clear your head. Your driver didn’t make conversation, contenting herself with quiet humming as you watched raindrops begin to splatter and slide across the window, catching sparks of orange and red from the street lamps and brake lights outside. 

Your phone chimed again, this time with a text message from Lena.

Get a cab or a rideshare when you’re ready to go home please. I’ll even pay you back for it

I’m already in one

Awesome. Thank you

You chatted with her a little longer to pass the time and keep yourself from nodding off until the car pulled up to the curb in front of your building. 

Your neighbor’s townhouse was the only sign of life on the street as you exited the car, each window aglow with no curtains or blinds drawn to dull the light. They’d warned you about this party three days in advance, an effort to be considerate that was as kind as it was old fashioned. You could still see people moving around inside, muted conversation and laughter drifting to you through windows left ajar to keep the house from overheating. 

With a tired sigh, you headed up the steps to your door, not paying much attention to anything beyond your sore feet and aching shoulders as you fumbled your key into the lock and and pushed into your apartment. 

Your jacket was halfway off by the time your brain caught on to the fact that something was wrong.

A pair of heels that cost more than your rent, lying knocked on their side in the entryway. 

Your stomach clenched uneasily, and you felt blindly for the light switch.

Dark footprints smudged on the wood floors, leading away from the shoes and through your apartment to the closed bathroom door. 

Even darker drops mixed between steps, and you didn’t dare to look closer, couldn’t have forced yourself to even if you’d tried. 

You should leave. You should call someone. You should run screaming. You should not open that bathroom door. 

But there was something else different in your apartment, something wrong but distinctly non threatening in a way that completely contradicted all other evidence of a horror movie waiting to happen. 

Your favorite throw blanket was draped over the back of your couch. 

“Do you enjoy ruining my life, Nat? Be honest.”

Natalie gave a satisfied little smile before making her eyes go round and sad.

“My poor darling. Your life is so hard.”

“It is,” you insisted. “Because you insist on making me dislocate my shoulder every time I need a blanket.”

“Every human person on this planet keeps their blanket on the back of the couch. That’s where blankets go.” 

“That is absolutely not where they go. They go on the arm of the couch so that sane people who care about their joints can easily reach them instead of doing this,” you insisted, making a show of flailing your arm out behind you in an obviously uncomfortable position. 

Nat broke into a bright laugh at your dramatics, batting your arm away and scooting closer to you. 

“Here’s an idea. You could stop worrying about the blanket and just cuddle up to me when you get cold.”

“Here’s an idea. Stop moving my stuff and just tell me when you need more affection.” You rolled your eyes, but there was no real heat to your tone as you tugged Nat against your side, wrapping your arms around her. 

“Communication,” Nat sighed, voice muffled as she turned to tuck her face against your neck. “Fine.”

It didn’t make any logical sense. The average person wouldn’t take it as any kind of sign at all, would get the hell out of this place at a dead sprint, and they’d be completely right to do so. But. 

But you weren’t an average person, hadn’t been for quite a long time.

So you slipped off your shoes as silently as possible, slid the rest of the way out of your jacket. Hands made unsteady by unavoidable nerves but determined through sheer stubbornness found your phone and taser, clutched both tightly as you followed the footprints deeper into the apartment. 

You paused outside the bathroom door. Cracked, as it turned out, not closed. 

A slow, bracing breath as your thumb skated over the switch on the taser, a tiny red light blinking to life at the base as a high, electric hum sizzled through the silence. 

One more breath, and you pushed your way in.

A small duffle bag on the floor, your shower curtain slightly askew before you pushed it aside too.

And there she was. As you had somehow both expected and never actually imagined, huddled in the empty bathtub, her head sagging back against the lip. Clad in a little black dress that had certainly seen better days, ripped and stained, her feet filthy and bare. Her arms were crossed protectively over her stomach, almost hugging herself, and the sight of red leaking from between her fingers had your vision swimming faintly before you forced yourself to look at her face.

Her head was tilted back against the lip of the tub, the same red hair now much shorter and tangled in a shock of damp curls against her face. Her lips were tugged down in a frown, but her eyes stayed closed, expression never shifted as you stared, taser still held in front of you.

“If you waltzed back into my life just to die in my bathtub and get me sent to prison, I swear to God…” you said lowly, voice unsteady but still, you were pleased to hear, distinctly threatening.

A flicker of green as her eyes mercifully opened, but now that you were faced with that familiar, piercing stare, you half wished they’d stayed closed for a little while longer. Especially when she paired it with a smile, weak but still dazzling in a way that made your stomach drop. 

“Hello, sunshine,” she said quietly. “It’s nice to see you too.”

------

This has been around in my drafts for over a year, and I kept forgetting about it because I wasn’t sure if you guys would be into it! Let me know what you think!

Asks, reblogs, and replies are what keep this blog alive! If you’re thinking it, I wanna hear it!

------

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu​ @internalbullshit​ @lilasiannerd-blog​ @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory​ @iwillbeinmynest​ @scotlandasshole​ @netflixa​ @hardcorehippos​ @singingprincessstudent​ @sophiealiice​ @blue1928​ @tinuviel015 @a-book-pressed-rose​ @bbparker​ @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun​ @feelmyroarrrr​  @orangespocks​ @majesticavenger

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff series

[colorspoem]

⟣ᩨ ☨˚ꔛ彡🎩 𝕟็𝗲ωู ρ𝗼ᩚ᥍̼𝘁 ◠🪪🐺𐩘𐬿🍊🧣📝￣▓⃞🏈𓆇｡䕽ଽ ◊◞ 𓇼 ᥬ✼៚ᝪ 𝕷𝕚𝐤ᩚ𝗲 * 𝖗̆𝐞𝗯𝗹𝗼̼ᩧ❡ (ㆁᴗㆁ✿) ↜ ༒ ©️𝕣ᦕᩨ𝕕𝐭𝗌 ෆ𝗲ᩖ // ❔🥍🍝🩴

#colorspoem #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha irons #natasha romanoff aesthetic #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff edit #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fanart #natasha romanoff gif #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff icons #natasha romanoff moodboard #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff series #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #with psd #random icons #moodboard #random simbols #moodboard famous #site model icons #famous #chalametzitas #carrdorian #viuvanegra #viuva negra icons #scarlet johansson #Scarlet johansson moodboard

[lcvernat]

Our Tainted Love Chapter One | Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist | Chapter Two

Series Summary: Natalia Romanova had one mission: kill the princess. It was meant to be simple for someone of her skillset, and it would've been simple, but Natalia made one tiny mistake that could cost her everything: she fell for you. Yet she had no choice, you were her mission and she had to complete it.

At the end of the day, a love between an assassin and her target was destined to end in bloodshed.

Word Count: 4.2k

Content Warnings: fluff and angst, strong language, brief mention of violence & blood, the red room & dreykov, original female characters

A/N: i am very excited to start this series (but also slightly nervous considering how many people seem interested in it and i hope it meets your expectations)! this chapter is mainly an introduction to everything, and the actual action will begin next chapter. i still hope you enjoy this chapter nonetheless!

Warm and wet blood covered her hands as she plunged the dagger into her victim's chest. He struggled, gasping for breath, choking on his own blood until it all stopped and his body went limp. He didn't have a face, none of them ever did. They were just things she had to discard of.

Natalia blinked awake, her eyes opening to stare blankly at the ceiling. The sound of sharp heels on the hardwood floor earns her attention and she turns her head to find Madame B walking through the dormitory in the early morning light, unlocking the handcuffs that kept the Widows chained to their bed each night. Their purpose was to prevent escape, but also to remind them that they have no freedom even in their dreams.

Her victims always haunted her in her dreams. Faceless faces with no names. Nightmares would probably be the better word for them, but she’s long since stopped waking up in a cold sweat each morning. They don’t faze her anymore, not really. They haven’t fazed her in a long time, she’s just learned to deal with them and everything else in her life because she’s well aware she has no chance of escaping. She used to have some hope when she was younger, before she graduated. Back when she had some semblance of humanity left in her. Her wishful thinking soon proved to be pointless. No knight in shining armour is ever coming to rescue her or the other Widows trapped under Dreykov’s command. The Red Room has successfully morphed her into the cold, heartless monster they wanted her to be.

Madame B unlocked her handcuff and she sat up, rubbing at her wrist. The mark permanently engraved into her skin. The old woman headed back to the door before she turned around, "Romanova," her sharp voice cut through the quiet chatter coming from the Widows as Natalia turned her head to look at the woman, "Dreykov requires your presence in his office after training."

With no further information, she left, the sound of heels diminishing as she got further down the corridor. The other Widows turned to look at her as they whispered curiously amongst each other. Being called to Dreykov's office was rarely a good thing. Primarily because there was no reason to be called to his office unless you were in trouble, which obviously never ended well. Missions got delivered to them in files handed to them by guards or occasionally Madame B. Dreykov himself rarely ever left his office, and the only times he did leave was to oversee the younger Widows training so he could pick out the weakest links and discard of them.

So, to say that Natalia was confused as to why he had requested her presence in his office would be an understatement. She wasn't called 'Dreykov's star pupil' by the others for no reason. She never failed any mission, and her missions were always completed perfectly with quick efficiency. Quite frankly, she was the best out of all of them. She can't think of any reason that she would be in trouble for, so why did he call her to his office?

Hours later, her training completed, Natalia made her way to Dreykov's office, escorted by a guard. She put up a front as she usually does and pretended she wasn't nervous, but Dreykov always knew how to incite fear into his Widows, even if they were cold and ruthless assassins. He still terrified them. So, Natalia couldn't help it that her hands had started to sweat the tiniest bit.

The guard knocked thrice on the office door and the sound of a gruff, harsh voice calling "Enter" was the result. The guard opened the door for her and she walked in, Dreykov looking up from the paperwork on his desk as she entered. "Ah, Natalia, dear, yes of course," he said as the door closed behind her. He gestured with one hand in front of his desk and Natalia obeyed, walking over to stand in front of him.

"Now," he sat his pen down and joined his hands together on the table, "you may be wondering why I've called you here, correct?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

"Don't worry, you aren't in trouble, my dear. You are my best Widow, and you've never failed a mission before. You always complete them perfectly, I have nothing to reprimand you for."

Natalia stayed silent. Dreykov took his time getting to the point, taking his glasses off and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Putting his glasses back on, he continued, "An announcement came from the castle earlier this week. The princess is to be married, and there is a ball tomorrow to find a potential partner. Why am I telling you this, you may ask?" She doesn't recall asking, "because I am assigning you a mission. You are to go undercover, and kill the princess."

Oh. She wasn't expecting that. Why wouldn't he just make a guard deliver it to her in a file like usual? He got up from his seat then, walking around to stand in front of her. Natalia swallowed, flexing her fingers in an effort to not clench her fists together. He sure knew how to make someone uncomfortable.

"I decided to call you here to tell you of this mission in person because it is extremely important that it is completed. Which is why I have entrusted you as the Widow to do it. You are my best Widow, no doubt. The others are good, yes, of course they would be. They are my Widows. But you are by far my best creation. Ruthless, efficient, you are simply a perfect assassin, aren't you, Natalia?" He started to walk around her as he spoke. She kept her gaze trained in front of her, "I am sure it will be quite simple for someone of your skillset."

He stops in front of her again, "You, and the other courtiers, will be able to stay at the court for six months after the ball in an attempt to get to know and court the princess. All I need from you is to kill the princess. How you do that is up to you. Understood?"

She nods.

"Good. Now, my Natalia," he brings a hand up to caress her cheek, and it takes everything in her to stay still and not flinch, "this will mean that you will be away from us for a long period of time. So, I expect frequent updates on your mission. I have already placed someone undercover as a guard in the castle months ago, as I've anticipated this happening sooner or later. He will be the person you give your letters to, and he will deliver them to me."

Dreykov pats her cheek before lowering his hand and returning to his seat behind his desk. He rummages around the files on his desk before retrieving one and extending it towards her, “In here is your cover story. It is quite a simple one, but I'm sure you know it is still important you memorise it,” she nods and takes the file as he continues speaking, “I have enough trust in you to not get caught, as you never have before. Do me proud, my Widow, and you will be rewarded once you return. You can spend the rest of today planning, and you leave first thing tomorrow. You may leave now,"

"Thank you, sir," Natalia nods her head, even though he isn't looking at her and has returned his attention back to the paperwork on his desk, and exits his office. She barely has time to collect her thoughts and think over the mission she has just been assigned because a guard is already outside to escort her back to the dormitory. They walk back together, the mission file clutched tightly to her chest.

She'll need to plan. She doesn't think it'll be too hard, as she's went undercover for missions before, but getting noticed by the princess when there is going to be at least a hundred other people there trying to court her is going to be the difficult part. She'll need to gain the princess' attention at the ball tomorrow, somehow. Yet also still blending in as to not draw attention to herself. The killing will be the easy part. She just needs to know how she's going to get to that part.

They arrive back to the dormitory and she enters, the guard closing the door behind her and standing outside. Natalia makes her way over to her bed, ignoring the looks the few Widows occupying the room gave her. She opens the file Dreykov handed her and starts to read it.

Her cover story read; Natasha Romanoff, orphan, parents died in a fire when she was young, lived in an orphanage until she was an adult. She now lives on her own and makes a living by being a ballerina.

Easy to remember, plus she knows how to do ballet, all the Widows do, so it’ll work. Her new name is only slightly different to her birth one, and she likes it. Something about the name feels right to her.

Now all that’s left is the plan, or at least, the start of one. Nothing will be quite set in stone yet, she doesn’t know what will happen during her stay at court. Anything could happen, really. She just hopes everything will go smoothly for her.

"Oh, this is so exciting!" Wanda sighs excitedly as she falls down gracelessly onto your bed beside you. "I'm so happy you've finally agreed to start the whole courting process. Imagine how many people we're going to meet! And they'll be here for what, six months?"

You nod, "Yes, Wands, six months. But remember, this isn't your chance to just meet a lot of new people. By the end of the six months, I need to have someone I want to marry. Which is going to be hard. How do they expect you to meet someone, fall in love with them and want to spend the rest of your life with them all in six months?"

You sigh as a frown starts to make it's way onto your face. Wanda notices and pokes your cheek before she sits up, "Hey, no frowning. I know it's kind of crazy but I guess it's just royal law? Or something?"

You chuckle at Wanda's poor attempt to make you feel better. The poor girl knows next to nothing about royal laws or anything about the court. Honestly, though, neither do you. You might be the princess of the kingdom, and someday it'll be your duty to handle all of the royal affairs, but right now you can barely sit through 10 minutes of a meeting. Seriously, you've tried and ended up falling asleep.

She turns to you then, her face serious as she stares at you, "Do you actually want this though?" She asks as she reaches over to take hold of your hand, "I mean, the ball is tomorrow so there's not a lot of time to change your mind. And I know you've been putting this off for a while now. Is this really what you want?"

You smile gently at her and give her hand a reassuring squeeze, "Yes, I promise I want to do this. I know I've been putting it off for a while now, but I feel like I'm finally ready. I guess I just want to actually marry someone I like, and not just marry them because it'll be beneficial for this or that reason, you know? So, I just hope I actually do end up meeting the love of my life, I guess."

Wanda nods, "Yeah, I get that. I'm just glad this is something you actually want to do."

Squeezing her hand once more, you nod, “It is, I promise,” you reassure her.

You two lapse into silence for a few moments after, the weight of what's actually going to happen tomorrow settling into your bones. You knew what you had signed up for, and you were even the one to finally bring it up with your parents around a month ago. But when the announcement had went out this week, even though the court had been doing preparations for a month, it made everything feel all that more real. It was anxiety inducing, you weren't going to lie. The whole process is going to take a lot of time and energy, and the thought of having so many people staying in the castle who are trying to court you makes your stomach turn a tiny bit.

You pull your hand away from Wanda's to absentmindedly pick at a loose strand in your bed cover. Wanda turns to look at you, noticing the slight frown on your lips as you're lost in your thoughts. Even if this is your choice, she knows that doesn't make it any less nerve wracking for you. She claps her hands together excitedly, the sharp sound of her palms connecting making you jump, effectively snapping you out of your train of thought, "Okay! How about, for one more day, when this place isn't absolutely crowded with guests and people falling head over heels in love with you, we spend it having fun?" Wanda asks, already getting up from your bed and offering a hand out to you.

Her words make a smile grow on your face as you place your hand in hers. "Yeah, that sounds nice," you say as you stand up, following her as she drags you out of your room. At least you could always count on your best friend to find a way to cheer you up.

Natalia spends the rest of the afternoon and early evening forming a plan in her head. Even during their 'dinner' (if it could even be called that, considering most of it was barely edible food, only enough to keep them alive and useful), she had been lost in thought as she picked at the stale piece of bread that had come along with her soup (that was disgustingly cold and she could barely manage two spoonfuls so she gave up trying to eat it), ignoring the curious glances she got from the other Widows. While none of them considered each other 'friends', some created alliances with the others, just so they wouldn't feel so horribly alone. Natalia never bothered to do that. She'd rather be alone than create an alliance with someone that would literally stab you in the back with a single command.

As she lay on her bed now, staring up at the ceiling, the sun slowly starting to set outside of the window, a slight plan was starting to formulate in her mind. She needed it to be flexible, not knowing what was going to happen or who, if anyone, could potentially get in the way of her mission, but it was still something. The mission file had said she would be provided with all her clothes and gowns that she would require in order to create the illusion that she belonged there tomorrow morning before her departure, so at least that was one less thing she had to worry about.

She would arrive, just like all the other potential courtiers, and act as nonchalant as possible. She couldn't appear too eager, it might draw too much attention to herself too quickly. She needed to attempt to blend in, the less people that noticed her before she was absolutely required to be the center of attention (which would inevitably happen if she succeeded in getting close to the princess), the better. Then, she'd need to grab your attention during the ball somehow while also avoiding dancing with you. Honestly, she's mostly counting on you to be intrigued enough by her that you'll try and find her after the ball. From then on, it's really up to you to trust her enough that she can get you alone and then she can kill you. She has six months to do that, it should be manageable.

It's not the most secure plan she's ever made, but for a mission as long-term, dangerous and high-stakes as this one, she doesn't know how she's meant to come up with a full plan. It's risky if she does, because if she relies only on her plan and it all goes to shit, she's got nothing. She's confident she can do it, Natalia isn't known as the best Widow the Red Room's ever produced for no reason, but it's definitely not going to be a walk in the park. Of course, her life never is. But really, how hard will it be to trick a princess who's been pampered her whole life and has never had to know the dangers or hardships of living?

When Madame B enters the dormitory to put their handcuffs on, Natalia knows she's probably not going to be getting any sleep tonight. It won't matter anyway, on nights she does fall asleep, it's always a restless sleep and she wakes up feeling more tired than she felt before she went to sleep. She doesn't move her gaze from the ceiling as she raises her hand so Madame B can put her handcuff on.

The old woman bends down to put on the handcuff. She's close enough that Natalia can feel the woman's breath on her face. "Dreykov is counting on this mission to be a success," Madame B whispers harshly in her ear, only then does Natalia move her gaze to look at the woman's face, "do not disappoint us," her voice is low enough so only Natalia can hear.

As if she needed that reminder.

She doesn't bother replying as Madame B straightens up again, brushing her hands on her shirt before she turns to finish handcuffing the rest of the Widows.

If she fails this mission, she may as well already count herself as dead. There is no way Dreykov would let her live if she both failed to kill the princess and jeopardized his entire organization in the process. Her skills be damned. It was startlingly obvious to her now, she had no other choice.

Natalia had to either kill or be killed.

You and Wanda had stayed out the remainder of the afternoon and the entirety of the evening. It was now pitch black yet neither of you made a move to go back to the castle. You were in the royal gardens, so it was only a quick walk anyway, and you were still in the vicinity of the castle, likely with guards scattered around, remaining unseen. It wasn’t as if you were in danger or anything, you’d never be in danger here.

You pointed up at the sky, currently lying on the slightly wet grass with Wanda beside you. You didn’t care that your dress was getting dirty, even though you knew your lady-in-waiting, Maggie, would probably die of a heart attack once she saw it. “Look," you say, “it’s the Sirius constellation,”

Wanda looks at where your finger is pointing and her nose scrunches in confusion as she tilts her head, “I don’t see it,”

You blow out an exasperated breath as your hand drops to rest on your stomach, “Did you ever read that book of constellations I gave you?”

Even with the moon and stars being your only source of light, you can still make out how Wanda’s cheeks turn a vibrant shade of red at your question, “Would you be mad if I said no?”

All you can do is laugh, “You’re insufferable,”

“That’s mean.”

“It’s the truth. I’m never getting you another gift again.”

“Jackass.”

A chuckle escapes your lips before you prop yourself up onto your elbow to stare at Wanda, “I think we should head back now before they send a search party out for us,”

Wanda hums before nodding. Not that either of you really want to leave, but you’re sensible enough to know that it is getting quite late and tomorrow is going to be a very busy day. You stand up and stretch your arms above your head, Wanda following suit.

“How much are you betting we’ll get back to our rooms unseen?” Wanda muses as you both slowly make your way out of the royal gardens, heading in the direction of the door that leads into the kitchens. It’s meant to be reversed for servants only but you and Wanda use it regularly to sneak out.

“Hopefully but probably not likely,” you reply, making her snort.

You both slip silently through the door, the kitchen thankfully deserted at this time of night. "Okay," Wanda whispers, "spy time," she winks at you playfully, making you shake your head at her antics as you both hope to make it back to your rooms unseen.

Thankfully, most of the hallways of the castle are deserted save for a a couple of nobles wandering about. You doubt they'd tell anyone though. You did pass one of the guards, Clint, who gave you both a disapproving look as you walked by. Technically you weren't allowed to go out anywhere without at least one guard with you, and you're definitely not allowed to be outside at night, accompanied by someone or not. It's 'too dangerous' apparently, but that doesn't mean you listen.

"At least we haven't been seen by someone who would slap us around the head if they saw us," you whisper to Wanda, "unless Clint snitches."

"Clint will probably snitch," Wanda confirms, "he definitely didn't look to-" she was cut off as you both rounded the corner only to come face to face with Maggie, who is definitely not happy at having caught you two, clear by the death glare she's aiming at you and Wanda.

"Oh no," is all you can say.

"Oh no," Maggie agrees. Wanda makes the right choice in not saying anything. Maggie takes a deep breath, probably an attempt to control the anger that is currently radiating off of her, as you steel yourself for whatever she's about to say, "how many times have I told you two that you can't sneak out at night?" Her tone is sharp and you've known her for long enough to know that she is definitely not in the mood for any of your jokes tonight.

"Come on," you sigh, "we were just out in the gardens. Nothing's going to happen to us out there, or even in here. There's too many guards for that to happen!"

At the mention of you being outside, Maggie's eyes drift down to the bottom of your dress, which you can now see is clearly splattered with mud. The woman lets out a pained gasp, putting her hand over her chest dramatically as you grin sheepishly.

"Oh my goodness," she breathes out before shooting you a sharp glare, "Y/N L/N. That dress was brand new," you open your mouth to say something but she cuts you off, "no. I don't want to hear it." Closing your mouth, you desperately glance over at Wanda, begging with your eyes for her to help you. All she does is shrug.

"You know what, the dress doesn't matter right now," Maggie continues, "it is still dangerous being out without a guard. Even being out with Lady Maximoff. Yes, you are very well protected here, but you are also the princess. You need someone around you at all times. Especially starting tomorrow."

You look down at the floor resignedly. You knew she was right, you probably did have to start being more careful now that people from all over the kingdom are going to be arriving tomorrow. Shuffling your feet awkwardly, you look back up at her, "You're right. I'm sorry, Maggie. I'll have a guard with me at all times starting tomorrow. Promise." You weren't keen on the fact that this felt very much like the times when you had gotten scolded as a kid, but even you knew when you had to be less carefree and more mature.

"Good," Maggie's gaze softens before she gestures behind her, "head back to your room now, you have a long day tomorrow and you need sleep. I'll be by in a couple of minutes to pick up that dress," her tone is disapproving when she mentions it, but it holds less bite than a couple minutes ago, which is something.

You nod as she turns to Wanda, "You too, get some sleep, go," she makes a shooing gesture towards you both as Wanda gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before heading off in the direction of her own room.

You smile gratefully at Maggie before heading to your own room to get some well needed sleep.

The next six months are definitely going to be very long.

general tags: @sheneonromanoff @olicity-boo @r4nd0mgir1

series tags: @lonewalker17 @francedeboix @notmeellaannyy @mrsromanoff @romugh @marrymemcgrath @gryffindorkromanoff @sayah13 @waltzingin1698 @natashaswifeyyyyy @persephonespomegranetes @princessblackmoon @shortstoppan @h3artsnatty @yyyyourmummmm

dm me, send me an ask or reply to be added to my general taglist or this series taglist!

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff series

[chamberlainyuh]

navigation:

hi! this is gayerthanevertbh’s blog and for now i will have to use this because my other blog is shadowbanned. i don’t necessarily know how long this will take but if it goes on for a week, i will move here permanently <3 for now, i will use this and post one-shot and “the last time” series parts here (for now) so i hope you understand!

here’s the masterlist of my whole account

natasha romanoff:

dirty, aren’t we?  (includes heavy smut and fluff)

grocery shopping (includes jealous!nat and fluff, requested by anon) coming soon!

part 3 of “the last time” series (heavy angst and lots of surprises) coming soon! (this is in the other woman universe)

that’s all for now! if i do come back on my shadowbanned blog, this account will probably be something else. sorry for being annoying about this 😭

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha smut #natasha romanoff series #natasha x you #black widow x reader

[watch-my-cosmic-death]

If anyone has any Natasha Romanoff series. Completely or incomplete- They can be angsty/fluff just anything with a happy ending that’s all I care about 😅 I’m in the mood to complete binge read through seventy stories.

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #Natasha Romanoff series

[wandasfifthwife]

masterlist | I got a bad idea series

southern!wandanat x fem!city-girl reader

summary: you’re visiting your grandparents’ farm because they wished for everyone to come together again after five years. your grandma decides to invite others like their neighbors—an older married couple who’s been a family friend for years—to their big get together as well. the morning after the event you find yourself waking up in their bed with no memory of the day before.

tw: married!wandanat, age gap (w&n are 30, r is 23), small hurt/comfort, r gets injured (minor), there will be smut MDNI (w&n top, r bottom), alcohol consumption mentioned (by r, w, and n), no description on reader besides that r uses she/her pronouns and has a v&breasts, r falls first but they fall HARDER, poly relationship, light angst with happy ending!!

a/n: each individual chapter will have its own trigger warnings. If you would like to be on the taglist, comment :)

MASTERLIST

* = suggestive content

*** = smut 18+ MDNI

main story | completed

(1) a classic get-together

(2) the curse of living in a small town

(3) take me dancing *

(4) sweet thing

(5) a bad decision ***

(6) said that we were done but you’re all up on me *****

(7) please, let me stay *

random snippets

family dinner *

early mornings ***

random

this series’s playlist *

series’ mood board

#wandanat x reader #wanda x natasha x reader #wandanat #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you #dom wanda #top wanda #natasha romanov x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x fem!reader #I got a bad idea series #southern!wanda #southern!natasha #bottom!reader #sub!reader #natasha x fem!reader smut #wanda x reader smut #Wanda x fem!reader smut #wanda x natasha #natasha x reader smut #natasha x you #natasha x wanda

[wandasaura]

WHAT DID I SAY

summary — the four times you fucked up and called your doms by the wrong name

warning(s) — college au, fuck-buddy relationships, marijuana use, alcohol consumption, face slapping, spitting, biting, body writing, restraints, spreader bars, mentions of branding, semi nipple torture, hickies, shotgunning, choking, butt plugs, spanking, ass biting, pussy slapping, doggy style, strap-on usage, cum-filled strap, fingering, oral, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denial, degradation, praise, daddy kink, mommy kink, captain kink, sir kink, literal filth, men/minors dni

authors note — first little headcanon/oneshot for know my place! hope you enjoy my little college stoners who fuck like rabbits. can totally be read seperate from the au!

know my place

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Maria – 

The wine is warm beside Maria’s bed. The bottle of Prosecco momentarily forgotten about as a symphony engages beneath the darkness of night and blankets. It’s not often that Maria pulls the blankets overtop of herself as she works to unravel the intricate knots and coils in your belly, but she’s chosen tonight to share the beauty of your body with only herself and the silicone toy secured around her hips. Your moans are muffled by her skin, teeth embedded into her shoulder as she rocks the strap-on into you harshly, the bulbous head dancing along your cervix with every third stroke. She’s practiced in this tango, an expert in knowing your body, but the wine has impacted your reception to her actions, and as she pulls the strap out of you almost completely only to thrust back into you quick and harsh, a name leaves your lips that isn’t her own. 

Maria has never been soft with you in moments of time where some part of her body is buried within yours. She’s rough, and assertive, and entirely domineering as she splits you open and gives you only as much pleasure as she’s willing. With Maria, you’re never in charge. The cards are held tightly in her ironclad grasp and you’ve learned better than to try and guess that she’s holding. The wine however, has severely impacted your judgment. You’ve engaged in this dance for months now; been left with the bruises and aches of her touch for days afterward, and yet you’re disoriented enough to cry out for Wanda as she drills your sopping cunt so perfectly. 

“Mommy!” The title slips off your lips before you can search for the correct term that’s filed away in a section of your brain labeled ‘Masha’. Maria has never been Mommy, in fact, she’s always turned her nose up at the title and joked that Wanda’s entirely too harsh to be called something so maternal, and she’s less than amused when the five letter name falls onto her shoulders as she works to unravel you completely. 

Her hips stutter to a stationary position, the silicone dildo fastened around her hips deep within your pleasure soaked core, but unmoving and unwilling to start again. There’s a moment of silence that passes between the both of you; Maria’s eyes are hard, slitted and dark as she stares down at you in a drunken haze, brain struggling to process what you’ve just let slip. Your eyes are wide, light and soft as you meet her stare and attempt to win her forgiveness without seeing the repercussions of your actions. You were a fool to call her Mommy, but you were an idiot to think she’d let it go so simply. 

The silence that had fallen over you ended abruptly, replaced by the echoing sound of a sharp slap meeting your cheek and bouncing through the air before you’d had a chance to process the pain at all. Your head snapped to the side, your unharmed cheek pressing against her pillowcases that smell somewhat of smoke and vanilla. Your eyes pinch closed, anticipating the next hit that will land against your heated skin, but it never comes. Maria’s hand tangled into your hair instead, pulling your head back until your neck is craned and the expanse of your sensitive skin is exposed enough for her teeth and tongue to mark. 

“What’s my fucking name?” Her hips snap into yours with each word that she mutters against your neck, sharp bites and sensitive stings encasing your body in a delectable buzz of pleasure and possessiveness. You’ll bear these marks for days to come, indentations of her teeth and patches of purple from her lips adorning your skin that can’t be easily hidden with makeup or your longest turtleneck. Everyone who looks at you will know that you’d found yourself beneath a warm body and had been helpless to their assault, but only you’ll know that it was Maria Hill who had been your intimate attacker. Each lovebite that she presses into your skin is a subtle claim. You’re not Wanda’s in this moment, you’re not Natasha or Carol’s either, you’re entirely Maria’s and she’s reminding you of such as her hips drive hard against your own and the silicone strap that’s coated in your arousal attempts to bruise your cervix in the most addictively painful way. Each strong thrust sends you reeling farther into bliss, but she’s waiting for an answer and you’re not getting anything more until she hears you call her the right name. In her opinion, she’s being entirely lenient with you, there are a plethora of ways she can go about reminding you who you belong to, and yet your wrists remain unbound and your breasts remain unmarked by the leather of her favorite flogger that’s just an arms distance away. “Whats my fucking name, slut? Or do I need to carve it into you? How pretty would you be with my name on your thigh; ruined for anyone else who even tries to get between these legs? My little slut forever.” 

A strangled moan falls into the air as Maria sinks her teeth into the skin of your neck just beneath your ear, and your hands that have remained at your sides throughout this entire exchange shoot up to scratch at her back, blood bubbling to the surface as you spare to ounce of lightness to your touch. She’s marked you, now she’ll bear your marks for days to come. “S-Sir!” 

Maria hums, satisfied with your answer, but unwilling to forgive you completely. Her hips continue to pound into you until she reaches her high, thighs quivering as she moans in pure delight until she’s too sensitive to continue on with her ministrations. The strap-on leaves your entrance quickly, your overstimulated and sensitive walls pleading for it to stay, but Maria’s done for the night, and she’s decided that you are too. She reaches for the abandoned glass of wine, taking a sip smugly as she straddles your hips, damp toy splayed across your naked belly as your chest heaves and you look up at her pleadingly. 

“You’ll get to cum when I don’t have to remind you who I am.”

Natasha –

Natasha’s hips continue to rock into you even as she leans forward and captures your lips between hers. The room is filled with a thin layer of smoke, the scents of weed and sex entangling together and yet it's somehow entirely Natasha as you lay beneath her, willing to take whatever she wants to give you. Your head is fuzzy, filled with only thoughts of her and the lightness that the bud had brought over your senses. Her body is warm as her naked chest presses against yours, already marked by her passionate kisses and bites that will linger for days to come in secret. Her pupils are blown wide, a combination of her lust and the joint she’s rolled skillfully. Her fingers are educated in the art of many things, but unraveling you is one of her most prized hobbies. Her lungs are filled with smoke from the last drag she’s taken, and as the seconds linger on with her lips still pressed firmly to yours, unmoving but eager to claim you intimately, she exhales into your open mouth and forces you to take the smoke that she fills it with. It burns as you inhale, slipping down your throat smoothly and filling your own lungs, but it’s pleasant and you greedily allow her to continue until all that remains is an empty kiss that was once filled with weed. The smoke trails out in wispy strands of white and gray, and they dance between your faces until the open space claims it and the visual is gone. 

When she pulls away, there’s a devilish smirk on her lips that even another drag can’t erase entirely. She raises the joint to her lips again, eyes fluttering closed as she sits back on her heels, the cum-filled strap she borrows from Carol still buried within your walls and yet agonizingly still as she lets her head fall back in contentment. The cloud of milky white smoke that settles around her is entirely erotic, almost a halo of intoxication above her head, but there’s hardly a second for you to admire how ethereal she looks in this state before she presses into you firmly and resumes her rocking. Her pace is punishing albeit shallow, the tip of the strap-on hitting your perfect spot so softly it feels like butterfly sings batting against your skin, but she’s ruthless with her speed and the quick motions of her hips are enough to have you gripping at the sheets and looping your legs around her waist to draw her in deeper. 

Natasha laughs smugly at the sight of you so fried and desperate. She raises the joint to your lips with one hand, encouraging you to take a hit before her other hand wraps loosely around your neck. She doesn’t apply any pressure as you take a long drag, eyes fluttering closed as you involuntarily shiver at the taste lingering on your tongue, but the presence of her grip is enough to have your hips bucking into hers. 

“F-fuck sir!” You cry out when she obliges with your silent request and begins to thrust deeper into your core, the head of the toy pounding right against your sensitive spot with practiced ease as your head falls back against the pillows and your lips release the joint. A cough falls off your lips as you moan around the smoke in your lungs, eyes becoming watery from the burning sting, but you have no time to recover from the hit before Natasha’s hand is tightening around your neck and her hips are setting into you faster and harder. 

Her lips purse as she collects spit on the tip of her tongue, letting it fall against your flush cheek before she smears it down your neck, fingers that are still holding the lit join trailing across the expanse of your sensitive and worked over skin. She’s playing with fire now, quite literally, smearing her spit across your chest until she finds a home at your pebbled nipple and pinches roughly, but you have no ounce of self-preservation in your body as you watch the lit joint fall closer and closer to the marked skin of your chest as she tightened her grip on your neck and leans cynically close to your face. Her eyes are dark, clouded with lust and intoxication. Her hips have set a punishing pace and each time she drives the head of the strap into your g-spot your vision goes white with pleasure. 

“That’s not my fucking name. Are you really that much of a slut that you’re thinking about Masha as I’m fucking you. We can get Masha if you’d like, I’m sure she’d love to watch as I fuck you into my mattress until the only words you know how to say are Daddy please. I’m sure she’d love to lay between these legs and watch my cum spill out of you before I push it right back in and plug you up. Fucking whore. Is Daddy fucking you too good? Is that little brain so overwhelmed with pleasure that you don’t even know who’s fucking you?” Natasha lightens her grip on your nipple, bringing the joint back up to her lips before she drops it into the ashtray on her bedside table and grips the dildo, throwing her head back as her thrusts become choppy. “I bet you’d let anyone fuck this cunt. All you want is to cum. Fuck!” She curses as she drops her body against yours, lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss as she squeezes the shaft tightly, cum spurting against your walls and marking them with a milky whiteness. “Cum with me. Fuck!” 

With her permission, the coil in your belly finally snaps, and you arch into her touch as she rides out her own orgasm, the cum slipping down your legs and coating your inner thighs and her sheets. “Fuck Daddy!” 

“Good girl. Scream my name. Let Masha hear how good I’m making you feel.” 

Wanda – 

When Wanda invited you over to fuck, you’d anticipated something quick. What you hadn’t expected, was for her to bind your wrists to her headboard and force your legs apart with her recently purchased spreader bar. You’d been at her mercy for hours now, writhing on the bed beneath her as she took her time working you up. First it had been her fingers that dared to ruin you, the ringed digits slipping between your folds and teasing your clit and entrance until you were dripping onto the bed sheets and pleading with her to give you something more. She’d agreed easily, not even putting up a fight to prove her dominance over you. Those skilled fingers had turned into a skilled tongue. The hot muscle pressed against your clit, lapped at your entrance and slurped up the damp arousal that glistened beneath the moonlight that bled into the room from the open window. She was relentless in her teasing, and as overstimulated as you were beneath her touch, you were equally as frustrated. She’d been at it for hours, bringing you just close enough to taste the sweet relief of your orgasm before she pulled away and began the process all over again. You’d cursed her out six times since she started, and each time she merely chuckled against your core and slapped her palm down harshly against your cunt, sure to let her fingers brush against your clit for merely a second before it was gone and her tongue soothed the ache but brought nothing more. 

Your hands itched to tangle into her hair, and yet each time you reached for her you remembered how she’d so intricately bound you to the headboard with the softest rope in her collection. Your hips bucked upward as she pulled away again, your entrance clenching around nothing as your clit throbbed and protested. A broken cry fell off your lips as you shook your head frantically, needing her back on you and relieving the intense ache that she had single handedly created. Her lips and chin glistened with your arousal as she smirked down at you, the vibrating egg between her legs working her up to an orgasm you could only beg for. 

A whine rippled through your chest before it tumbled into the room, the words you’d been chanting for hours mangled and wrong as they came spiraling out fast and strung together. “Captain! P-Please!” Wanda growled lowly at the slip, her eyes dark and sinister as she leaned forward to grab your jaw and force your eyes on her. 

“What did you call me?” Despite how she articulated every syllable in the sentence, she wasn’t really looking for you to respond to her. In a swift motion, she’d reached across the bed to grab the panties that she’d pulled from your legs when you’d first joined her in the bedroom, and shoved them into your mouth. The balled up fabric was damp and uncomfortable as it sat on your tongue, but despite how hard you strained to force them away from your mouth, you couldn’t get them out with your arms bound and her body restricting your movements. 

Your eyes tracked her movements as she fumbled around in the drawers of her bedside table, thighs straddling your waist as she leaned forward and subsequently rocked the vibrating egg farther into her tight channel. She trembled in pleasure, but everything about her was always so perfectly kept that it was hardly noticeable to anyone who wasn’t you. Her rustling had lasted mere seconds before a black marker that had been used weeks prior to mark up a project poster now in her grip and uncapped. You had no idea what she planned to do with it, but there wasn’t any way for you to ask if you wanted to. You were helpless to watch as she slid down your body and dragged the inky tip across the skin of your breasts before moving downward. 

You gasped when the cold tip of the marker dragged across the skin right above your mound, thick black letters that you had to strain your neck to read lingering on your skin only to be gone when you washed your body of her touch later that night. ‘Mommy’s Slut’, was written just above your cunt, but Wanda wasn’t satisfied in stopping there. She dragged the felt tip across the inside of your thigh, holding your legs still as they wiggled away from the ticklish sensations she provoked. A thick arrow pointed straight at your weeping entrance, and Wanda was cruel enough to write, ‘cum slut’ at the tip of the arrow. A cry fell off your lips when she threw the marker onto the floor, and returned to her position between your legs. Her mouth was cruel as it worked you up to the edge, but unlike the times prior, she hadn’t stopped when you’d begun to wriggle around as an indication of your approaching orgasm. You fell over the cliffside in bliss, but that had only lasted long enough for your orgasm to crash over you and then she was gone, forcing you to ride it out with no further stimulation. 

A harsh slap met your sensitive cunt when you finally stilled on her bed, teary eyed and desperate for something more as you stared up at her with wide pleading eyes. Wanda wasn’t willing to comply however, and instead of satisfying you fully, she trailed harsh bites up your torso and between the valley of your breasts before her lips, still glistening with your arousal, found a home against yours. The dainty pink panties with a frail little bow on the waistband still between your teeth and properly wet from your saliva, but she hadn’t trailed so close to your face to kiss you. Instead, she settled her harsh glare on you, a sinister smile curling the edges of her lips upward as she let a damp finger stroke across your cheekbones, “I guess Mommy has to remind you of who you belong to. We’ll see if you deserve to cum in a few days.” 

Carol –

The buttplug is an added sensation that Carol uses to her advantage as she works to unravel you completely before you both have to leave for class. You’re not new to butt plugs, Maria’s quite the fan of them, but you’re new to them with Carol and the ways that she likes to toy with your stimulated body. You're on all fours in the center of her bed, knees sinking into the mattress as your hands grasp and twist at the comforter, absolutely desperate for relief that’s been slowly building beneath the surface. Her fingers are buried deep into your core, curling into your g-spot and massaging your velvet walls with pride. Her tongue circles the plug in your ass teasingly, and every couple of minutes when you least expect it, she presses against the base of the plug in tandem with her harsher thrusts before she scissors you open. 

Carol smirks against your ass as she sinks her teeth into your left cheek, her hand slapping down on you right just as she flicks her thumb over your clit. A muffled moan falls off of your lips as you bury your face into the comforter, your hips rocking back on their own accord as you attempt to chase after her touch, a strangled cry of, “Daddy more!”, vibrating your cheek as you twist your head to rest your cheek against the comforter and stare back at her. 

Carol is relatively unbothered by your slip of her title, but she doesn’t let it go entirely, not that you’re aware yet. Her fingers work into you easily, her thumb rubbing harsher, tighter circles around your clit until you're spasming on the bed. She smirks against the globe of your ass, her thumb pressing firmly against the plug with the hand that’s not buried between your thighs. “That’s not my name Princess and you know that.” Carol says smugly, grinding her hips down onto the edge of the bed as she chases her own relief, knowing there’s not enough time in the ten minutes she has left with you to reverse your position and have you go down on her. 

“Captain!” You cry out sharply, reaching your hand back to grasp onto Carol’s as the coil builds in your belly almost unbearably. The engineering major merely smirks, digging her teeth into your ass a final time before she encourages you to spill around her fingers. That’s all it takes for you to cave and tremble as she continues to scissor you open and curl her fingers into your cunt, but as quickly as your orgasm comes, she’s pulling away and throwing your clothes at your head. “You’re really going to go to class like that?” You question her, laying dazing on her bed as you twist onto your back and watch her run a baby wipe between her legs before she’s wiggling into a pair of fresh panties and reaching for her pants. 

“Yes, and so are you. Get up. That plug doesn’t come out until I take it out.” She says in the most unphased tone, reaching for the crewneck that’s been laying across her desk chair for days, not even bothering to reach for the bra that’s only inches away. 

“W-What?” Your eyes go wide as you sit up in bed, wincing slightly at the pressure in your ass as the plug presses against the inner parts of you sweetly, ropes of pleasure shooting through your core. 

“You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you, Princess?” Carol merely winks before she’s flying out of the room, shouting that you have three minutes to meet her in the car before she leaves without you and makes you walk to class.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fic #carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #dom!carol danvers x reader #carol danvers smut #carol danvers fic #maria hill #maria hill x reader #dom!maria hill x reader #maria hill smut #maria hill fic #series: know my place #minors dni ৎ୭

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ m.list

IN WHICH your married life with Natasha Romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. With your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (And ultimately, very horny.)

⋆⭒˚｡★ CONTENT !!

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

genre ★ no powers au, smut, fluff, crack, slight social media au

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, irregular updates, specific warnings in each chapter

notes ★ this has been brewing in the back of my mind for the longest time, i just finally decided to put it down into words... hope yall like this just as much as my other fics, if not more!

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

⋆⭒˚｡★ PROFILES !!

001. the l/n-romanoff clan

⋆⭒˚｡★ CHAPTER INDEX !!

001. BENTLEYS & BLUEBALLS [3.1k]

natasha wakes you up with a pleasant surprise, your gremlin kids are the life and death of you, tony stark is annoying, marital sexting is pretty tough, and you're homesick for your wife's pussy.

002. SURFBOARDS & SOURDOUGH [4.0k]

twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

003. THICK THIGHS & THEATRE [wip]

marina gets into trouble at school, you're one second away from punching a suburban mom, natasha is the calmer parent, you satiate your murderous desire between her thighs, and movie nights!!

LOADING...

© 𝐒𝐘𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍 2024 ━ do not copy, edit or translate my works

#⋆⭒˚｡★ home is where the heart is #masterlist #series masterlist #sytoran's big list of things #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader smut #gxg smut #wlw smut #marvel smut #natasha x reader smut #natasha x you #natasha romanoff imagine #sub natasha romanoff #bottom natasha romanoff #top reader #dom reader

[scarlettsandmaroons]

full of cages | n. romanoff

about me | series masterlist | natasha romanoff masterlist

pairing: professor!natasha romanoff x collegestudent!reader

chapter seven | chapter eight: picture perfect, shiny family

chapter summary: you thought you got everything you wanted. turns out there was one more.

warnings: smut; very very slight somnophilia (if you squint) | minimal spanking, dirty talking, manhandling, own orgasm denial, masturbation, minimal choking | mommy kink, praising king, degradation kink | dom!natasha romanoff, slightly bratty but sub!reader. very visible cheating, fluff; around the first half. unedited, long.

a/n: the time has come for me to write smut!!!! dear lord, finally. just a heads up, i am not the biggest fan of writing smut, this chapter dragged on way too long than it should be because i don't like writing smut (i sincerely do not know how to write smut, but having finished 90% of wanda and natasha smut fics on tumblr made me feel like i'm good enough to go), so do take note to lower your expectations and that feedback is highly appreciated!!

you'd come to learn that mrs. romanoff was kinder than she looked overtime. she's secretly caring, she just had the worst way of showing it. of course after three months of calling her office your "third home" you ought to get to know mrs. romanoff at least a little bit.

three months you spent coming to her office every free period so she can closely watch you rewrite the papers she tore off before; three months you spent sitting alone in her lecture hall after her last class so she can teach you everything you were too distracted to listen to before; three months, and now, you're about to reap your hardwork.

"are you sure you're going to do this here?" mrs. romanoff asks with a sigh.

slowly, you noticed her forgo her intense professionalism towards you. she no longer ignores you, or humiliates you. perhaps, that's from your eagerness to learn, and slowly diminishing number of mistakes. but she greets you in the halls, and she lets you stay in her office more than she's supposed to; even when you're just doing nothing but scribbling on your notebook waiting for your next class.

"y/n! i got it," billy barged in.

billy stays in natasha's office a lot too. at least, before natasha calls it a night. anytime before then, especially when you two are busy, she only allows billy to stand outside.

you stand up, holding billy by his wrists and jumping in the nervousness you tricked your mind into thinking was excitement. you caught a glimpse of natasha sighing, her hand on her forehead in almost embarassment of the two children that's making noise in her office right now.

at some point, your dreams of natasha stopped. you were distracted sometimes, yes. but when you really need to focus, she makes sure to make you. and when you're alone in a lecture hall with mrs. romanoff, or in her office writing papers, she can get very scary when she wants to make sure you're paying attention.

but as billy got more involved with you and his mother; bringing you coffee when he can, or lunch when you both miss the time; waiting for the both of you to finish and going home together, you noticed the mrs. romanoff that only exists for billy. you notice the way mrs. romanoff would pack everything billy needs in her bag, or the way she subtly scolds her son when he does something stupid. you saw mrs. romanoff sweaters in her drawers specifically for when billy gets cold which he does so easily. some time last month, you even saw mrs. romanoff keep a bottle of billy's perfume on her desk for him to grab whenever he needs to. you started thinking of mrs. romanoff as more of your mother too. despite the occasional slips, you are always reminded that she is more of a mother to you.

especially when she cooks you eggs in the mornings, or drives you to school for when you decide to come a little earlier than billy. and when you saw how much mrs. maximoff loves her…

"goodmorning y/n!" you had just come done that morning somewhere over three months ago, and what welcomed you (and what has been welcoming you since then) was mrs. maximoff's voice all the way from the kitchen.

mrs. maximoff was washing the dishes, that's the sight you come down to every morning. but usually, there wasn't a plate of eggs, bacon and ham, on the island unless billy decides to cook for you which he hadn't since the first time since you'd wake up before him often. mrs. maximoff only whips you up some green juice to encourage a healthy lifestyle but you didn't see any of that that morning.

"come, sit, sit. natasha made you eggs," your brows furrowed. "she left you some vitamins to drink too. said you don't look like the type to drink vitamins."

you were in a haze from waking up so you only sat down and started eating. "you know, i always assumed mr. vision just goes to work early and comes home late before i found out mrs. romanoff was your wife," you said, your mouth stuffed.

mrs. maximoff chuckled, "well," she said with a pause, as if she was trying to reminisce. "we got divorced a long time ago, sweetheart. it's been seven years, i think," she said.

you weren't one to pry but you did anyway, "why?"

mrs. maximoff smiled before she looked down at her hands. that time you knew what she was going to say, "i met natasha," she said. it was a long time before she said anything again. "tony, vision's long time friend introduced natasha to our family. i knew natasha long before i had billy and tommy, but when vision and i got married, we went away, and i just sort of never had any contact with natasha."

you knew where it was going. you knew what happened. and somehow, for a little, you couldn't fathom the thought. "natasha and i got close. she frequents the house, she got closer to the boys while vision was getting more roped into work," she said. she said it so lovingly as if there was absolutely nothing wrong. "i left vision for natasha."

she was having an affair with natasha while being married to vision. it was obvious. or at least she was falling in love with natasha while being married to vision. eitherway, it's wrong. eitherway, it's love.

"was that why you were at the university last week?"

she smiled. "i was there to talk to nat," she said, then she looked down, carrying on the work she didn't realize she paused. "she and i were going through a rough patch, she moved out to cool her head, and i went to get her."

guilt pinched at your chest. you were going to go to mrs. romanoff's class later having known her personal problem, yet you couldn't resist. you wanted to know more. you wanted to know about her so she becomes less than the monster you always thought her to be. "you joke about getting a divorce…," you whispered though you knew it was enough for her to hear.

"i thought we'd have to," she chuckled bitterly. "but who was i kidding? she's the love of my life, how could i possibly survive without natasha?"

she couldn't. you'd come to learn that when you saw her longingly look at her wife every chance she got, as if her very existence were enough to make her feel alive. wanda would give natasha the biggest meat, or the parts of her food she knew natasha liked. she would pack her sandwiches for work, and oftentimes, even drop by the university to have lunch with her.

of course, they could never really have any alone time with you and billy. you all end up eating together, laughing, and making noise inside her office. natasha, who you thought would get mad over the noise, was just calmly sitting through it, occasionally smiling over her family which you'd come to be a part of.

"okay, mama. sit back for our shining grades," billy says, giving you the hardcopy of your report card that's inside a brown envelope.

you saw mrs. romanoff lean further into her chair, her eyes wandering over your faces. you couldn't disguise the nervousness anymore. you were nervous. especially with natasha in front of you. you all knew, in your minds, that natasha is the only one who would ever fail you. so to do this right in front of her, is only to see if she failed you again despite your hardwork. it's like opening a christmas present in front of your intimidating aunt.

you took a deep breath. you could never outlive the awkwardness if she did fail you again, and she's right in front of you to see your reaction. you might just explode.

"okay, babe. let's do it," billy says.

you started in internal count down.

1

2

3

1.6

your eyes widened. that was your lowest grade. and it wasn't from mrs. romanoff.

ENGLISH LITERATURE --- 1.0 BUSINESS ECONOMICS --- 1.0

while billy was busy eyeing your card, you were already looking at natasha who was only returning your gaze with a smug look on her face. it was only until billy gasped and attempted to hug you did you charge towards natasha who quickly stood up to welcome your body in her arms.

your heart exploded with joy. your efforts, the sleepless nights, the overtime, the swallowing the harsh words mrs. romanoff would throw at you when she notice you get distracted.

but most of all, it's finally living outside of mrs. romanoff's radar, it's finally seeing the nice side that billy kept insisting she had. it's having a family, and a boyfriend, and people who loves you. it's having a relationship with all of them, a relationship you'd never give up for the world that made your heart explode all the much more.

you hugged mrs. romanoff, and she stiffed. she didn't hug you back, or move. but you felt her warmth nonetheless, and you smelled the vanilla, and bergamot, and rosewater from her. you kissed her cheek, whispering a thank you for helping me, mrs. romanoff before running off to billy who lifted you and spun you around as you both basked in joy.

you both shared now an above 1.4 average and you can not be happier. you have a family who loves you, a boyfriend who's always been there for you, and good grades. there can be nothing else that you want.

"we're definitely getting good jobs with grades like these," billy says. looking at you, his eyes sparkling.

you giggled. "we're only freshmen, billy."

he leans down. "well, i'm very proud of you regardless," he says kissing you.

mrs. romanoff clears her throat, only then sitting down. "okay. get out now. i have work to do," she says.

you and billy went out with large smiles, occasionally squealing in between sentences as you walked down the hall. you… are now officially stress-free. you got what you want. your hardwork paid off.

you had a few remaining classes, and billy would pick you up from your lecture halls after each one. after your last period, billy took you out. "let's celebrate!" he said.

he took you to your favorite taco place. it wasn't really a date, yet he insisted it was. getting tacos, and going near the beach where food trucks were lined up are something you do on a usual day. but because of the boyfriend-girlfriend title, he insists that everytime you do something fun together, that it's a date.

of course, you were never really one for making the simplest date romantic, but you were never really a "romance" person either. billy was. billy always has been. and you appreciate his ability to find the love in even the simplest things.

you learned to do that because of him. everytime he wraps his jacket around you the moment it gets dark, you know he's doing it out of love. whenever he removes the vegetables from your food because he knows you hate them, you know he's doing it out of love. whenever he opens every door for you, and holds the umbrella a little more towards you, and ties your hair when it's windy, you know he's doing it out of love.

billy taught you to look at the little things.

and so everytime he pulls a chair for you, or puts food on your plate during dinner, or carries your things for you, it reminds you that you did make the right decision. that no one would ever love you as much as he did.

"let me take that," billy says, taking the plate you were holding but you didn't let go.

"listen to him, dear. he doesn't do any chores in this house. at least let him take the plates to the sink," you giggle at mrs. maximoff who was wiping the table.

you looked up, smiling at the way billy's damp hair hung over his forehead. you swept the hair out of his face, holding his cheek for a bit before looking down when you get too deep into his eyes. "you should shower, billy," you smile. "i can take this. you smell like the sea salt."

"listen to her, dear. she's actually smarter than you." billy rolls his eyes at her mother. "oh, i felt that billy!" mrs. maximoff says to which you laugh. she appeared next to you and billy, holding the other three plates you were supposed to come back to. "you should listen to your girlfriend, dear. she's might actually stop you from dying from your impulsive decisions," she says, putting the other plates on top of the ones you were holding. "now, go go. i'm sure y/n can manage," she tapped billy's arm twice, hurrying back to the table murmuring a, "swimming at the beach with your clothes on until night time. what were you thinking."

you smiled, bringing the plates to the kitchen while billy goes up to shower. mrs. romanoff was already there washing the first few dishes you brought earlies. "is that it?" she asks when you set the plates beside her.

"mrs. maximoff, are there any more dishes?" you shout over at the dining area.

"no dear! you brought the last of it," she shouts back.

you smile a bit. there's always that flutter that you feel when you feel the domesticity of it all. you never had this in your own home. and now you do.

"what are you thinking?"

you lifted your head with a "huh?" when you heard mrs. romanoff say something but the small interaction was interrupted when mrs. maximoff enters the kitchen, bringing the cloth she used to wipe the table with to the sink.

"you know, i could never understand why y/n dear won't call me mama," mrs. maximoff says with a huff when she began drying some of the dishes mrs. romanoff finished washing.

"well, i tried once. but with billy being my boyfriend, it just sounds too…," you passed behind the three older women to get to wanda's side and help out by putting away the plates she'd dried. "step-sister," you continue.

"well, maybe you should break up with him then," you hear mrs. romanoff say.

you didn't say anything, but you felt mrs. maximoff elbow her. "or she can just call me whatever she wants," she says to her wife then she looks at you with a smile, "oh, don't you listen to nat. she's just a little protective of her boy," you smiled. "oh let me take that from you dear, we're going to keep that away for the holidays," she took the cup from you before you even realizing, bringing the cups out of the kitchen for a bit.

you looked at mrs. romanoff who just turned of the sink after finishing the dishes, you smiled at her. "don't worry, mrs. romanoff. i won't take--" you stop when you feel her hand on your hips as she passed behind you and she swiftly moves you to the sink and takes your place beside it. you heart skips. she's making you slip again. but you can't, she's billy's mother.

"oh i know you won't take billy from me, dear," she says. "i was worried it might be the other way around."

you hadn't heard what she said because the moment mrs. maximoff came back, you ran off to your room. you were heaving. you clutched your hand against your chest, feeling your raising heart. "oh god," you sighed, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to fall on your bed.

it wasn't your first slip. there's been a couple when you thought of her other than billy's mother. when your hand would brush against her when you pass her a little too closely in the halls, when she'd place a hand on your knee when she's showing you what made your writing wrong in her office, when her hand would settle at a small part of your back as you walk towards billy's car in school. but you can't, she's your professor.

she's your professor.

she's your professor.

she's your professor.

she's your professor.

but you're masturbating to the thought of her.

she's your boyfriend's mother.

but your fucking yourself to the thought of her.

"you were moaning my name, y/n. you came to the thought of me."

no, but she's like a mother to you now.

"you were fucking yourself to the thought of me, not billy's."

your eyes popped open.

you were dreaming again.

except you weren't. you felt her breath against your skin, the ends of the hair that hung on one side of her head were brushing against your cheek, she was on top of you. mrs. romanoff was on top of you. you weren't dreaming.

"god, what are you doing to me…," she says, her eyes meeting yours. she was on her knees, your body in between her legs, and her arm holding her above you. "i can't stop thinking about you, you haunt me… you're making me feel all these things…," the way she whispered made you shiver. the raspiness of her voice was enough to revive the desire you so forcefully pushed down your very core. "i saw you touch yourself, i saw you cum, i heard you scream my name, please…," you feel her other hands softly tracing down your arm until she was able to take hold of your wrist. she used your very hand to tease you. she held your finger tips over the skin of your inner thighs, tracing patterns onto your skin with your hand. "let me see that again."

you heart was about to explode in your chest. but you didn't show her. for the first time in your life, you see mrs. romanoff at the lowest her pride could ever get. she was asking you for something, begging you. you saw the way she breathed against you, the way her eyes looked at yours. she needed you.

your inhibitions disappeared the moment you saw her on top of you. nothing else mattered at that point. you couldn't think of anything else that mattered aside from feeling her.

"say it," you whisper.

"i need you…," she said as a breath of air.

"where's your manners, mrs. romanoff?"

"please, i need you."

you would've done it without the please. but you wanted to push your luck.

the moment your hands met your aching core, your mouth opened. slowly, you started rubbing your clothed bud, teasing yourself with an initially slow pace that increased and decreased whenever you pleased.

you wanted the moment to last. you wanted the ache in her body to be so unbearable, she couldn't wait to fuck you. you didn't let yourself come, instead, you stopped everytime you were about to just to see her eyes darken in the pleasure you keep on taking away from her.

you kept eye contact. she saw every bit of movement your features made, the way your eyebrows stuck together, the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the way your mouth opened and silently moaned.

she'd had enough when your face became smug after disallowing yourself an orgasm again. her eyes were much much darker. it was lustful, and angry, and impatient. your eyes widened in shock when her hand harshly wrapped around your throat to a point where you can barely breath.

"you like teasing mommy, don't you?" she growled. "if you can't give me one, then i guess i'll have to pull it out of you myself."

with one swift movement, she had your ass up, and face down on a pillow near the foot of the bed. she harshly pulled down your pajamas, exposing your smooth cheeks and your hole that hid behind your folds. "you'll have to be quiet, yes?" she says. smoothing over your ass with her palm when a hard slap suddenly lands on it. "i was talking you, wasn't i, dear?"

you whimpered. had she gotten slightly closer she'd feel the heat radiating from your core. because you could feel it. you could feel it and the wetness that dripped from your pussy. "yes…," you whisper.

another slap. "yes what, sweetheart?"

you were panting. you needed to feel her. "yes, mommy."

"good girl," she acknowledges. that sent you over the edge and she hadn't even touched you. the sheer acknowledgement that you were doing good was enough for you to moan. "aww, is my baby horny?"

you hadn't realized you were pushing your ass into her to no prevail of actually feeling her body against you until she held you still.

"just touch me…," you whimper, trying to break free of her hold by pushing further against her but she didn't let you, instead, she only held your hips much much tighter.

"now, who doesn't have manners," she says. you feel her move behind you, "but i'll let it slide this one time," she was talking like mrs. romanoff now. like how she would to you in class, or when she's mad. it made your stomach flip. "you know what, i never thought you'd be the type of girl to fuck your boyfriend's mother, yet here we are."

you grinned, getting out a quip. "you'd be surprised, mrs. romanoff--" you gasped when you felt something cold and hard against your pussy. it was running through your folds; natasha's nails digging through your hips as she controlled just how close your body gets towards her.

"then surprise me, princess," she tells you. it wasn't until you felt something align at the entrance of your pussy that you realized what it was.

"no, no, wait!" you stop her, your hands pushing it way from your entrance. "i'm a virgin," you blurted out.

silence.

for a moment, you feared that you may have ruined the moment. but that disappeared when you felt a kiss on your lower back. "then let's rip the bandaid off now, shall we?"

and then she bottomed up inisde you.

it was like your cunt was tore in half. your face stiffed, mouth opened, and eyes wide; your back arching and your neck almost cracking at how much it stretched back in pain. you couldn't imagine what greater pain it would be if she started moving.

but she didn't. instead, she let you cry into your pillow while you adjust to her size while staying completely still inside you.

you prayed she'd stay like that forever. you didn't want her to move at all. you didn't want to move. it would hurt. you don't want to get hurt. you wanted to stop. but then you feel her press wet kisses along your lower back, her hands were soothing your sides, and then you heard her, "you're doing so great, sweetheart," she whispers. "you're doing so good for me, darling. i promise you it's going to feel so much better. tell me when you want me to move, yeah?"

you took a few deep breaths. for a moment, you thought the butterflies were a call of desire. but no, they weren't. nonetheless, you asked her to move. you want to make her happy. you want to feel good. you want her to make you feel good. you trust her. someone who might have hurt you before won't hurt you now.

"please, move now…," you whimpered, your voice muffled from planting your face deep into the pillow.

"are you sure?"

you take a moment to feel, realizing that you've grown accustomed to the size. that you crave to feel something more now.

"yes," you say surely. "please move in me now, mommy."

you swore you heard her smile.

you feel her move, slowly. you tried to hide your whimpers in pain by pushing your face further into the pillow. "are you okay, dear? do you want me to stop?"

soon, the pain turned into pleasure. the pain wasn't gone, but the pain was what made the pleasure much a lot better.

"well, would you look at that," you could practically hear natasha's smug smile while she watches you bounce on her cock to your own accord, leading with your own rhythm to which she only followed. but she gave you too much control, she ought to take it back. "there's no need for stopping now is there?" she asks before yanking your head back by a fistful of your hair, pulling you so far towards her that you were raised to your knees and your back was completely against her. she wrapped more of your hair around her hand pulling your head further that it was laying on her shoulder. "then how about we go faster?"

your eyes rolled to the back of your head when she started pumping faster, harder, deeper. a hand snaked under your shirt, her palm pressing against your skin, and it was like something had set you alight.

"oh god, i've always wanted to touch you," she whispers in your ear, her lips grazing over your love. "you make me so wet in class, and in my office, i just wanted to take you right where everyone could see you," she squeezed your breasts, fondled with it while pounding into you. and then you felt her hands travel back down. "you would like that, won't you dear? you want everyone to see how much of a slut you are for your mommy."

the moan you let out when her fingers reached your hardened bud was animalistic--so much so that her hand quickly flew over your mouth to cover it. "i told you to be quiet, didn't i?" she says sharply. you felt a something at the very pit of your stomach. you felt something tightening. you were about to see stars, and when she felt your walls tightening around her cock, she slapped your cunt harshly. "don't you dare cum when i'm talking to you," she growled, her pace not once faltering. "mommy asked you a question. don't you think it's rude that you're ignoring her?" you whimpered in her mouth, crying almost at the sever pleasure you're falling, but still graving more. she slapped your cunt again, this time, much much harder. the short moment when her hand landed on your clit was enough to make you moan into her hand. "answer me, slut. or i swear to god you will never get to cum ever again."

she allowed your mouth a little space between her hand so she can hear you. "mommy told me to be quiet. i'm sorry for being loud," you say, closing your eyes, swallowing down the moans that threatened your mouth, but one loud one slipped out.

"are you though?" she asks before her arm wrapped around you body while the other stayed on your mouth. a loud thud came from your room, when she angrily pushed you against your door, fucking her cock into you much deeper than what you thought was possible. "since you're such a whore, let them hear you come."

"oh god mommy, i'm cumming…," you cried.

she turned you around, her cock never leaving your insides. this time, your back was against the door, and your legs were wrapped around her hips. "fuck, keep doing that mommy, please. i'm so close, i'm so close…," you whispered, heaves of air leaving your body.

you closed your eyes, you back arching a little and your head tilting upwards to what the space between you and the door allowed. just right when you were about to plead for more, right at the very brink of finally reaching the stars, she grabbed your jaw. her nails were digging into your skin, and her hold, tight. you opened your eyes, meeting the green ones you never once thought you'd get to see this close, under this circumstance.

"you look at me," she says. "i want to see my little slut come."

and with one final blow, your body convulsed before her; your legs shaking as stars decorated your sight. she let you ride out your high, her hand making in on your mouth the moment it opened when you came.

she coos praises in your ear, soothing over your side until your body fell limp against her. you were panting while she carried you to bed.

and then she left.

she placed you on your bed, your body almost paralyzed, unable to move, and then she left.

she hadn't looked back. she just left closing the door behind her.

shame. there it was again. you hadn't gotten that feeling in a long time. you hadn't really dreamed of her in a long time, no feeling welcomed you in the mornings. but then here it was again. 100x more than it used to be. it ate you up.

the shame wasn't out of the two very special people who you just betrayed after doing what you did. the tears that fell from your eyes weren't from the shame of having acted on the lust you so long felt the mrs. romanoff. the shame was from embarassment. that she left you as if you were nothing. that you allowed her to use you, and violate you the way that she did, and leave you.

how could you allow that for yourself.

the horns natasha romanoff had grew back as you hugged your own body against your bed. and then you cried.

you cried until you hear your door open and by then you didn't really care to look.

"hey… are you okay?" your eyes shot open, hearing a voice you didn't expect to hear. she came back. she was standing beside you, bent over to see you more, and then she rests her hand on your arm. "sweetheart, is everything okay? why are you crying?"

i thought you left me. i thought you only came here to use me, and my body then leave. i thought you weren't going to come back. i thought you just went to get what you wanted. i… i… i…

"hurts."

"aww…," she coos, gently scooping you in her arms and carrying out the door. "well, i prepared a bath for you," she says gently.

you saw the bathroom light open from the gap beneath it's door. she prepared a bath for you. the moment the bathroom door closed behind her, she kissed your forehead. "you did wonderful for me, y/n," she tells you, letting you on your feet for a bit so you can remove your shirt. "i'm so proud of you."

then she carried you again, this time to place you in the warm bath she created for you. "let's wash you up."

you don't think you've ever felt more okay than you did with her now.

#ath: natasha romanoff #ath: natasha romanoff series (wasn't midnight rain) #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff series #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #billy maximoff #billy maximoff x reader #billy maximoff imagine #billy maximoff fanfic

[gayerthanevertbh]

humeur d’amour masterlist.

older!natasha romanoff x fem!reader

wanda maximoff x fem!reader [platonic...]

summary: she was infuriating, humorous, and meticulously attractive; which that angers me because i wish to envy her. in fact, i fell for her throughout the summer of 2000 with my best friend. i was drawn to her, wishing that somehow she was also drawn to me. 

warnings: age difference (reader is 18 while natasha is 26), heavy detailed smut along the way, angst, love and hate relationship, and fluff.

status: progress

spotify playlist 

comment if you want to be on the taglist!

CHAPTERS: 

part one - natasha

part two - second thoughts

part three - salvatore

#humeur d'amour series! #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha angst #soft!natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff series #black widow x reader #black widow x you

[atwellfilm]

PEGGY CARTER and NATASHA ROMANOFF

What If...? – Episode 05x2

#peggy carter #natasha romanoff #what if marvel #what if #black widow #captain carter #mcu edit #marvel edit #marvel daily #women of marvel #tagged #tuserpris #tusercora #useraurore #series gifs #series tv

[jiyascepter]

#punchable face

#what if #what if season 2 #what if spoilers #marvel #mcu #loki #avengers #peggy carter #captain carter #natasha romanoff #black widow #jane foster #loki season 1 #gifs #mcu gifs #marvel cinematic universe #tom hiddleston #marvel shows #loki series #j: gifs