#widow au

[foggyxrayspecs]

Can you do a one shot of cub standing upright??

Sorry it’s the anon from before

YESSS. Thank you for being patient, friend! You got it! Here's a one-shot about a year and a half after the Security Measures main series. Warnings: dark-ish, sub-themes of human trafficking, heavy pet play Word Count: ~1500 Excerpt: You swallow down your growls. You straighten your spine against the stress. No slouching. Slouching turns to bending, bending turns to curling… You roll your shoulders back and puff out your chest intentionally. Your focus shifts back to your breath — the only thing you can control at the moment.

IN A WAREHOUSE IN YEKATERINBURG, RUSSIA It took roughly a thousand hours of mobility training and practice to get you here, but you are here on your own two feet.

You stand stoically, a sentinel outside the room where your owner engages in a high-stakes meeting with the Yekaterinburg mob boss. Your hard gaze wills your sight to bore through the closed door. Your auditory enhancements are dialed up to try and catch every sound, including the cadence of Yelena’s speech rhythms as she negotiates for keeps. 

You are dressed head-to-toe in black tactical. Always mindful of your comfort and mobility during missions, Yelena designed your suit to be roomy enough to accommodate any necessary movements. The fabric clings to your body but is not too tight, allowing flexibility without compromising protection. Your hood, a custom piece, resembles a K-9, complete with little ears that stand up on either side of your head. It extends with a longer snout build-out that provides ample space for a muzzle when required while still optimized for breathing. 

Around your neck, you proudly wear your day collar, a symbol of your loyalty and Yelena’s ownership. A simple bulldog harness adorns your torso, providing additional support and security. Plus, you love it when she tugs on the strap to pull you close. 

But it's the footwear that still feels strange to you. Yelena insisted you wear shoes after you accidentally burned the pads of your feet. These steel and supple leather boots have been expertly molded to fit your feet like a second skin. You wiggle your toes, still adjusting to the sensation so different from what you were accustomed to. So weird.

As the negotiation progresses, you study the tone of the voices in the room, Yelena's trademark confidence, and the mobster's unpredictable temperament. The rhythm of their conversation, the pauses, and the inflections become a catalog of information that you analyze every nuance for potential threats.

You swallow down your growls. You straighten your spine against the stress. No slouching. Slouching turns to bending, bending turns to curling downward… You roll your shoulders back and puff out your chest intentionally. A tiny bit of your focus shifts to your breath — the only thing you can control at the moment.

XXXXX

ONE YEAR AGO (TRAINING MONTAGE)

Yelena's determination to have you on more extended missions made her focus on your mobility earnestly. Due to the regulations that required HK-9s to travel in crates in the cargo holds of planes, Yelena wanted to find a way to keep you close to her side. So, she started you on a rigorous routine, retraining you to stand upright after spending most of your adult life walking on all fours.

The training began with early morning workouts, targeting your core muscles and balance. You could sit up on the ottoman for an entire movie as you gain strength. Well, if the movie wasn’t too scary (and didn’t set off your protective instincts enough to lunge at the screen.) From there, Yelena guided you to stand using support from a wall or other sturdy objects, allowing you to grow accustomed to being upright. Climbing up her while she stood was always your favorite exercise, with the instant reward of affectionate kisses and nuzzling.

Gradually, Yelena decreased the amount of support you required. With time and practice, you could stand unassisted for extended periods, your muscles growing stronger as she molded your body through her instruction.

Once you could stand freely, Yelena shifted her focus to re-teaching you how to walk. Advised by Oksana, she transformed the home gym by installing parallel bars and other physical therapy equipment, providing you with stable tools for practice. 

The effort wasn't without its snags. Melina offered her assistance when you experienced unexplained bouts of vertigo during your first steps. She expertly assessed your sensory inputs and made slight adjustments near your vestibular nerve (to reverse tampering from years ago), alleviating any concerns of nausea or dizziness. Your progress kicked into overdrive when you could stop worrying about losing your lunch.   

Yelena ensured the house environment was safe and free of obstacles, so you could no longer leave your toys everywhere. Bipedal-only walking days were implemented inside the house, pressing you to practice on surfaces like wood, carpet, tile, and grass. Yelena remained patient and positive throughout, even when frustration got the better of you. 

She stood by your side with a cane during sessions on the treadmill, gently tapping you on either calf to correct any toe-turning. She listened keenly to your body's messages and promptly ceased training if you experienced pain. She was better at that than you were. 

But the playful moment when you confidently moonwalked backward across the kitchen floor — a move taught to you by one of the widows during some downtime— signaled to Yelena that the time had come to take you out.

XXXXX

BACK IN THE CORRIDOR

You stand at attention as Yelena exits the dimly lit room; her expression is unreadable, and her gun is smoking. Her eyes briefly look up and meet yours, a fleeting acknowledgment. There is no need for words; you are leaving now. You fall into step beside her as you walk down the corridor. Your eyes sweep the area and over her head, knowing that four widows are covertly covering the building but will not reveal themselves unless signaled. 

Together, you and Yelena move in sync, a well-practiced vigilance. Each turn you take, each hallway you navigate, brings you closer to the exit. Yelena quickens her pace, and you adjust accordingly, seamlessly matching her movements. You share an unspoken understanding, a mutual trust forged through countless missions and shared experiences.

Finally, you reach the exit. With a subtle nod, you guide her toward the sleek egress vehicle, its polished exterior gleaming under the moon. The car door opens soundlessly, and Yelena gracefully slides into the driver’s seat. You ensure her safety with a gentle click as the door closes.

The engine purrs softly. With a smile on her lips, she reaches over and opens the passenger door, motioning for you to join her. She whispers with her voice laced with pride and anticipation, "Get in, cub." 

XXXXX

AT A SAFE HOUSE NEAR THE AIRPORT

She opens the door for you when you get out of the car. You reach out, then stop yourself. Yelena looks back at you and smiles softly, then reaches to curl her pinkie around your index finger. “You always need a leash, yes?” You roll your eyes. She continues while leading you to the door, “You know you love it.”

You smile shyly with a shrug and sign. Maybe just a little.

Yelena opens the house with her security access, then locks it down when you are both inside. Once in your bedroom, Yelena stands before you, her eyes scanning your tactical gear. “You did a very good job, my cub, and you looked very cool in your new suit.” 

Yelena’s inspections were familiar after a mission, but this time, she had a mischievous glint in her eyes. With deliberate movements, she approached you, her fingers deftly undoing the fastenings of your suit, one by one. 

You stood still, anticipation building as she removed each piece. As her fingers released the buckles of your harness, the straps fell away. When she unzipped the suit, her fingers brushed against your skin, igniting a trail of shivers. The hood was the next to come off. Her fingers lingered, tracing the contours of the muzzle as she set it aside.

Yelena's touch ghosted over the day collar, a silent affirmation of her possession. With gentleness, she leaned forward to press her lips against the lock that symbolized your devotion.

With every piece of clothing removed, you stood before Yelena, bared and vulnerable. Her eyes met yours, a mixture of affection and possessiveness shining in them. She took a step closer, caressing your cheek, and whispered, "You're mine." You close your eyes briefly, then open them, knowing that her claim extends far beyond the physical. 

You take a long breath and sign. Please?

Yelena smiles slowly and nods once. “Kneel.”

A wave of relief hits you, and you can barely help yourself from folding in midair.

As you lower yourself, your eyes never leave hers while your perspectives are inverted. You go from towering over her down to her eye level, then lower until you are on your knees, looking up at your owner.

It's hard to describe the transference. Looking down at Yelena makes you feel protective, strong, and ready. It also makes you feel loving and compassionate. When you look down at her, you see not only her physical appearance but also her vulnerability. You see a person who trusts you. 

But looking up at someone you love can also be a very intimate experience. It makes you feel safe and protected. It makes you feel excited and grateful. When you look up at Yelena, you see her body but also her soul. You see the person who makes you feel happy, loved, and cherished.

After a thousand hours of training to stand and move, it becomes clear that kneeling for her requires no time at all.

#dark!yelena belova #dark!yelena belova x reader #dark!yelena #widow au #grey!yelena #security measures #security measure blurbs #scarlettwlw

[indiaalphawhiskey]

✨ Tiniest Snippet

And Louis had known, of course, in some vague, theoretical way, that pleasure still existed for other people. That people still laughed, loud and unencumbered, every day; still ate and drank with gusto, still tumbled into bed with complete strangers, still stood on that glorious, frightening precipice right before hurtling headfirst into love.

But it was only then, only when he heard himself let out a gasp — the first one that filled his chest with lust again, instead of pain — that he entertained the thought that pleasure could maybe… still exist for him, too.

#satellite widow au #widow au #RRS #iaw writing #iaw WIP #fuck I miss writing #but these tiny snips #are all I have the energy for #right now

[szollibisz]

ehehe first piece I did for the au !!

this is kind of around the end where Curt finally finally figures it out and obviously he's not very happy about it.

also i realized this kinda looked like the screensaver of a game so under the cut is the video gameified version

enyészpont is the point where all the lines run into in perspective (its 1 am i dont know it in english lmao) but roughly translated from hungarian it's decay-point and that's a really cool word

#spies are forever #tin can bros #saf #art #fanart #saf fanart #agent curt mega #spies are forever fanart #tin can bros fanart #widow au #curtwen #film noir

[theprofessionalpromptmaker]

Father-in-Law Day & National Support Public Education Day & World Snorkeling Day

Person A is a widow/widower with kids and whose in-laws are very adamant about their grandkids getting homeschooled, and have gotten more adamant about it over the years. Person A fights with them, thinking they’re trying to push religion or weird ideals on the kids, but when their oldest kid hits puberty and starts to develop aquatic characteristics, they’re confused and scared until the in-laws ask them about their kids in a way that shows they expected this. When Person A finally gets the truth out of them that their deceased spouse never told them - they’ve got mermaid heritage, and that was what the grandparents were pushing homeschool because of. So Person A agrees to let the kids be homeschooled when puberty starts, under the instruction of the grandparents at their beach house. When their youngest child reaches the age for the mermaid homeschooling, Person A moves the whole family to the same city, and starts spending more time with their in-laws and growing close to them now that the secrecy is gone.

#mod poss #creative writing #writing prompt #writing #prompt #fanfic prompt #fanfiction prompt #story prompt #creative writing prompt #ficinsp #alternate universe #plots and prompts #obscure holiday prompt #supernatural au #fantasy au #mermaid au #single parent au #in laws au #family au #widow au

[hatetress]

Izuku’s suited up for the Yuuei Entrance Exams.

#my hero academy fanfiction #Widow AU #They/Them Izuku Midoriya #archive of our own

[allofasudden00]

I'm bad with names but Julieta panicking when she is behind the wheel in your widow AU! It made me feel some feelz I wanted to give her and Isa a hug

If there is anything I know I can write, panic attacks are my forte. Having one almost daily is really good reference.

#suddenanswers #moments you remember #two broken pieces #widow au

[abbyromanoff]

Request! Fem!reader x Natasha. Reader is hunting natasha as she is an assassin. Natasha (pre-shield) in her freelance days, captures Reader and tortures her using sex (not letting her cum etc) to see who is hunting her. They turn into “enemies with benefits” if u yk what I mean

NEVER KNOW

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT:

WARNINGS: smut, dark themes, kidnapping, mentions of killing, overstimulation, edging, orgasm denials, enemies to lovers typa feel, strap on usage, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“You can take one more-“

“No,”

“Yes, you can.” She demanded, and you had no choice but to listen and comply. Her cock teased your g-spot with every thrust and led your mouth to part in a loud moan. The harness around her hips brought a small brush of the clit, causing her pace to quicken in hopes of reaching a further state of arousal.

“P..please, I can’t t-take anymore.” You mumbled out quietly, teary eyes glancing towards the woman in hopes of mercy being shown. But you didn’t even know if you truly wanted mercy, you just wanted her.

She was meant to be your enemy, the one you’d capture and turn in for your boss's approval, but it didn’t end the way you expected. Instead, you laid on a slightly hardened bed, your back beginning to ache with every thrust - but she didn’t care, she enjoyed this.

“Fucking slut. You like this, hm? You like Daddy fucking this tight cunt?” Her hands tightened on your hips that were raised to meet her liking, it had been like this for what felt like hours.

You knew there was a slim chance of even spotting her, not to mention taking her in as a prisoner. She was a highly trained assassin, the best of the best, you had no chance of coming close. Fury practically set you up for failure, and now you were stuck as her slave.

“Fuck, I’m- I’m close, baby.” This was her third orgasm in the last twenty-two minutes, and you wondered how that was even possible. Either way, you accepted the shots of cum that she let seep into your womb. The strap was designed with tech to release artificial cum, but you began wondering if it was even fake. If she had gotten this, stating she has been waiting to use it on you, who knows if she adjusted the settings or not? It would be difficult to do so, yet she could do anything she set her mind to, she was just that good.

“Gonna be such a good girl for your Daddy, yeah? You wanna be a good slut for me?” You nodded, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. She slapped them, gripping onto your left mound and tweaking the sore nipple. You bit your lip, nearly crying from the sensation.

“Can’t wait for these to leak milk for me. Fuck, I just know you’ll taste so fucking good.” She pressed her hungry lips to the hard bud, moaning as she imagined the sweet liquid. This didn’t distract her, though. No, she continued to let her pelvis bone slap against yours painfully. The room was filled with the sound of cheeks clapping together and reeked of sweat and sex. It was like a taunt, as if the air wanted to show you how humiliating and disgusting you were.

“P-please, Nat, I need to cum…so- bad!” Your nails raked down her back, clawing at the skin as she hissed in pain. Blood began to drip, and she only hummed in delight.

“Soon, baby girl, Daddy gets to cum first.” She already had multiple times, but that didn’t stop her. She wanted to make you suffer, it brought her enjoyment.

“I can’t h-hold on-“

“Yes, you can.” She retorted in a rough manner. You couldn’t listen to her anymore, you needed to finish. It was becoming unbearable, you couldn’t control yourself.

“Did- did you just-“ Came her voice after a few moments. You debated on how to get away with it, but you knew the punishment would be worse. But you didn’t care, you needed this more than she could imagine.

“I- I’m sorry, Nat-“ A slap came to your face, causing your skin to start reddening.

“You don’t get to call me that. You’re such an ungrateful fucking whore, can’t even wait till I give permission.” You sniffled quietly, and she only groaned in response.

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy ‘till I’m satisfied, you got that? And then maybe I’ll consider letting you cum. But for now, you’re my bitch and you’re gonna fucking act like it.”

“Yes, Daddy..”

It would be a long night, and you wouldn’t change this for the world.

#natasha romanoff mcu #natasha romanoff imagine #mcu natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fanart #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader fluff #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x y/n #black widow fluff #black widow angst #black widow x you #yelena black widow #black widow smut #black widow x reader #black widow

[loomontoia]

My family

#hawkwidow apartment au #digital art #natasha romanoff #black widow #hawkeye #clint barton #yelena belova #kate bishop #fanart #marvel #lucky pizza dog #liho the cat #mcu fanart #comics #my found family au #i love them so muuuuuch #rough drawing #i know

[viixenvi]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is your bodyguard. Recently hired to be by your side everywhere you go. Your father, the president, deemed her the perfect bodyguard for you. Apparently, she's known for getting her job done and has never once had an incident. You make it your mission to be unbearable so she can back off and you can have fun. Until one day, you get too frustrated and Natasha can't help but be there for you.

Characters: Bodyguard!Natasha x First daughter!fem!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, nicknames (Милая=darling), cuddling, kissing, reader being overly sexual (in the beginning)

A/N: First daughter x bodyguard is something I've been wanting to write!! As always forgive me for any mistakes this was not proofread!

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈

You sit on the counter of the kitchen. The white house has many places you love, but the kitchen might just be your favorite. You lick the spoon as you look at Natasha. She is standing across from you by the door. There are two other agents outside the room.

Natasha watches you intently, her eyes on your lips. She doesn't hide her hard stare. Natasha was professional, but you made it extra hard. You made it your mission to break her. You hoped if you did it then your father would lessen the security he had with you constantly.

"This is so good, you want some?" You pull the spoon out of your mouth and extend your hand toward Natasha. She just shakes her head and averts her gaze.

You sigh and jump off the counter, making sure she can see your boobs bounce when your feet hit the cold floor. Natasha follows behind you, keeping a slight distance.

All you can hear is her footsteps behind you as you walk toward your bedroom. There are two guards stationed across the hall either way. Natasha stops and takes her post in front of your bedroom. You giggle to yourself as You realize you have the perfect plan for her to crack.

When you get into your bedroom, you rush to the closet and pull off your shirt. Your pink bra and shorts are all you have on now. You reach to unclip your bra but purposefully pretend you can't reach it.

"Natasha!" You call out, she comes into the room with her hand at her belt where her gun is. When she sees you she immediately looks around to not look at your body.

"Yes, Y/n?" She questions. You turn and point to your bra clip.

"Can you help, I'm stuck," You whine slightly, hoping it's believable. Natasha walks to you slowly, you can feel her eyes burning into the skin on your back.

She had never seen you undressed before. Sure she's seen her fair share of your scandalous clothes, but never anything like this.

Her warm breath hits your neck as her fingers graze your back. You can feel a shiver go down your spine. She quickly unhooks your bra and turns around to give you privacy.

"Thanks, Natasha," You say in a whisper, you throw the bra to her feet and pull your shorts off slowly. You know she can see you through the mirror on her right.

Natasha takes a deep breath and tries to look away, but she can't stop from trying to see every inch of your skin. She was a professional, but you made it so damn hard for it to stay that way.

"If there is nothing else Y/n?" Natasha's voice is low. She goes to walk away but your hands on her arm make her stop.

"Help me pick out pajamas," you stop yourself from moving your hands any lower. You didn't really realize it, but at some point, this dumb mission stopped being pretend.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry if I'm out of line, but this is extremely unprofessional and I must say no to your request." Natasha's tone makes you step back.

"Oh. Sorry. You can go." You turn around and grab your robe off the couch. Natasha walks out of the room and shuts the door behind her. You stand in front of the mirror and look down at the bra sitting on the floor.

You didn't like the way you listened to her. Natasha had to go, it didn't matter what she felt. Right?

You sigh and walk to your bed, pulling the covers up and slipping under them. You open your laptop and put on a random video. You weren't even watching it, you just needed some background sound.

You pulled out your makeup, you had a person to do it but you had been practicing. Eyeliner was the one thing you couldn't get right. Your hands always shook and it was hard to get it right.

You held the liquid eyeliner pencil in your hand and got close to the mirror you used to do your eyebrows. The tip of the pencil was slightly dried out from all the times you used it. You press down and it messes up the line, making it chunky and messy. You wipe it off and keep trying.

After your sixth attempt, you finally get frustrated enough to throw the eyeliner pencil across the room. You let out a frustrated groan before you hear the door opening.

Natasha is standing at the door, looking down at the eyeliner and then back at you. You are crying a little from not being able to get it right and you know the eyeliner on your face is messy and streaking down your cheeks.

"Get out! Why do you never leave me the fuck alone?" You shout at Natasha. She doesn't deserve it but you need someone to get your frustrations out on.

Natasha raises her eyebrow and picks up the pencil off the floor. She shuts the door behind her and locks it, which you don't notice. You turn your head away from the direction she's coming from. You feel embarrassed she has to see you like this but that doesn't stop you from crying.

These tears weren't just from not being able to do eyeliner. You were frustrated because you realized that somewhere along the way, you caught feelings for Natasha. Everything you did may have just made her want to leave and that was not what you wanted anymore.

Natasha stands next to you, one hand reaching for your chin and moving your head to face her. You can't help but look up at her through your lashes. There is a smile on her face and she takes a seat on your vanity's stool.

You look at her face, she is stunningly beautiful and her red hair makes it better.

"What's wrong Милая?" she asks as she grabs a makeup wipe and holds your chin so you don't move. (darling)

"Nothing," you whisper while she wipes the eyeliner off. You feel her warm breaths again and you love it. Her hands are so soft and you hate the way you can't stop looking at her lips.

You had spent weeks trying to get her to quit and now you sat here wishing she'd never leave.

"It had to have been something, no?"

"I'm sorry." You look down, pulling away from her grasp on your chin. You can't let her touch you like this if you want her to stay.

"Sorry? about what?" Natasha looks at you, confused.

"I've been making your time here as bad as possible just so you could quit and Dad would let me have less security," you explain. Natasha smiles as if she finds it amusing.

"I know," is all she says as she gets up and starts to walk away. You get up and grab her wrist. She turns around and looks at you.

"What do you mean you knew? How di-" You are cut off by Natasha pushing her lips onto yours. You didn't move for a few seconds, afraid if you did then this would all be a dream.

Then her hands are on your waist, pulling you closer and you finally kiss her back. Her lips were as soft as you had thought and that same shiver went down your spine again.

Natasha pulls away first, letting you get air. You stand there frozen for a moment. Natasha had kissed you and you kissed her back.

"God, I've been waiting to do that since I got here," Natasha shrugs, chuckling a bit at your reaction. Her hands find their way to your waist again as she spins you and sits on the bed. She pulls you onto her lap and you feel your face start to go red.

"Natasha, what about your job?" You question, suddenly remembering that she works for your father.

"I don't care about my job, as long as I can finally have you." Natasha kisses your lips then your cheek and then your neck. You push her away playfully and she lays you on your bed. You close your laptop and Natasha climbs in rich next to you.

You yawn and look at the time on your alarm clock. It's way past the time you'd normally go to bed and Natasha knew that.

"Go to sleep Милая, I'll stay here till you do." She wraps her arms around you, the blanket over the both of you. You close your eyes and move your head closer to her chest. She smells so good and you inhale the scent as you relax in her arms.

"Goodnight Милая," Natasha whispers in your ear, her left hand running through your hair to make you sleep faster.

#bodyguard x first daughter au #fanfic #fanfiction #fem reader #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #black widow #fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst #viixenvi

[foggyxrayspecs]

Security Measures

Prompt: Yelena is an underboss in her family’s organization. Her latest mission calls her to exact revenge on an old friend that no longer has her sister’s best interest at heart. While infiltrating his operation, she enjoys dismantling all his security, including his guard dog.

Warnings: dark-ish, sub-themes of human trafficking, heavy petplay

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I like the idea of Yelena taking on a pet that is essentially a loaded gun. With all her new toys, she gets super nerdy about studying the mechanics of how it all works. Then she’d devote herself to mastering the ultimate switch — a deadly weapon and a big, dumb lapdog. Hijinks ensue! Tip of the hat to @scarlettwlw for letting me borrow the Widow AU Yelena. (Much appreciated!!!) All future chapters (link)

The faint swipe of the plastic card key and the affirmative beep of the reader has you up on your knuckles and knees in seconds. The auditory enhancements behind your ears dial in on the soft echoes of boots and amplify them. You frown at the closed door in front of you and concentrate on listening to the soft murmuring of two people entering the corridor. One of them is the Boss, and the other is unknown. A stranger. They don’t sound too tall, but you’ve learned not to judge what’s in small packages.

-----------------------------------------------------------

IN THE ROOM

The faint swipe of the plastic card key and the affirmative beep of the reader has you up on your knuckles and knees in seconds. The auditory enhancements behind your ears dial in on the soft echoes of boots and amplify them. You frown at the closed door in front of you and concentrate on listening to the soft murmuring of two people entering the corridor. One of them is the Boss, and the other is unknown. A stranger. They don’t sound too tall, but you’ve learned not to judge what’s in small packages.

You let out a soft woof to yourself and crowd the door under the handle. As the voices grow louder, you can make out the language. Russian. You preferred it when the Boss spoke English, allowing you to understand what was going on. When you know what's going on, it's easier to guard him properly and not get in the way. Not getting in the way is the thin margin that keeps you on the Boss's good side. A side that has been disappearing as of late. 

Uncontrolled, you begin barking your head off, actively dropping your voice to catch all the lower registries of bass you can gather. You've got one thing on your mind — to protect the Boss, the space, to warn the stranger. Sound waves roll off you towards the door, willing the wood to buckle under the weight of your ferocity.

Click. The door opens, letting in the smells from the corridor. The Boss is tense. The stranger is — you sharply inhale — then the world goes black as the Boss tosses his heavy peacoat at you, covering your head. 

"SHUDDUP, FUCKING MUTT! Holy hell!" You hear the Boss circle the desk and flop down in his chair, kicking his boots up on the mahogany surface. "Come in and take a seat, Yelena. There much to discuss."  

The stranger pauses two steps into the room as the door closes.

"Ah, you have a guardhund," she says, gently surprised. 

"Yes," you hear the Boss sigh. "They've been installed here for six months since the attempted break-in. Not worth the money if you ask me."

You feel the coat being gently pulled from your head. As you blink away the darkness, you are immediately captured in the green gaze of the woman. Her eyes assessing. You swallow down more barking.

She mutters to the Boss, "Ivan. You should not treat your protector so haphazardly."

"It's good for them. They aren't a lot of fun, you know."

"Fun? Is this how run your business?"

"Yelena," the Boss says in a low husk. "You know I know how much you like your fun. Lisbon…with Magda?"

The woman chuckled and nodded, "Yes, I remember. Well, the Portuguese had it coming." You could tell she was forcing herself to relax as she sat in the chair opposite the Boss's desk. 

Your training keeps you constantly vigilant. You stare down the stranger. You cannot help but give a low growl of warning deep in your throat. She just winks at you. You blink back. You tilt your head, showing the barest amount of curiosity. 

"My sister has a pet."

"Oh, yes, I've seen her. Glued to Natasha, beautiful… a little spoiled," the Boss grins.

Yelena chuckles. "Yes, her puppy is quite a handful."

"Well, at least she has personality. This one… " He motions to you. "They just sit there. Staring. It's… a little creepy."

Yelena barks a laugh. "It sounds like they are doing their job."

Over the next half-hour, you listen to the Boss and the woman — Yelena — converse in a foreign language. Yelena sneaks glances at you every few minutes. You take her in unabashedly, watching every move she makes. The Boss didn't seem to care that she was still heavily armed even after the screening from the crew members at the front entrance.

The Boss's sharp laugh and scrape of the chair pull you back into the moment. The Boss rounds the desk and envelops Yelena into a hug, rubbing her arms. You watch her endure the embrace, holding her breath. "Okay, we've got a deal. So good to see you again, Yelena. It will be a pleasure to see you much more often, yes?"

The woman gracefully breaks his embrace and steps back, her eyes falling on you. She easily says her goodbyes with a slight nod and leaves the room. You inhale the last of her heady scent.

-----------------------------------------------------------

YELENA'S APARTMENT

"So, he's got a guardhund."

"Christ. How the hell did he get one?"

"Probably his mother. So, we'll need to add that into the mix."

Natasha hums absently.

Yelena takes a breath. "I don't want to kill the pup. How do I… dominate them?"

"Oh, look at you. My little sister… the handler."

"Shut up. I need to know to plan the rest of the mission. And, I don't know… you are the one with the PET!"

"Puppy and a guardhund are two very, very different things." Natasha sighs. "Most pets — even guardhunds — don't respond well to being forcibly dominated. Muzzle grabs and alpha rolls do nothing to assure them that we are in control. Instead, they make us appear more aggressive, out of control, and untrustworthy, increasing their stress.

"Since you've got time. I think you need to play to your strengths. Win them over the old-fashioned way. Earn it. If that fails… food." Natasha hums again. "Also, we could try one other thing…"

Yelena raised an eyebrow.

-----------------------------------------------------------

IN THE ROOM | Three days later… 

You dig your teeth into your cuff for the thousandth time that day. The leather feels good in your mouth. You begin the delicate work of chewing the edges around your wrist. Whatever you can do to pass the endless time. 

After you finish the first phase of your leatherwork, you sigh heavily, looking up at the window where the light is finally dimming. 

Your ear perks at the sound of solitary footsteps entering the corridor. You pull back your ear muscle to focus the tech on amplification. It was her again. Yelena.

You push yourself from resting on your haunches and roll forward to balance your weight onto your knuckles. You exhale a soft huff of breath as your body tenses in anticipation. 

You keep quiet as she slides the key card and opens the door, quietly shutting it behind her. You frown darkly, watching her.

She drops down to you. She was not looking into your eyes, but you could tell her attention was on you. "No enthusiastic greeting today? Am I not a threat? Forgive me if I don’t trust your judgment."

You offer a low growl and show her your teeth. You are meant to protect this room — its sanctity, its secrets. She slowly raises her hand to one of the many zippers on her vest. You growl louder. She lets out a quick "Shh!"

Your interest is captured when she lifts her hand and takes treats from her pocket. You hold still, nostrils twitching. Your shock collar training keeps you from being ruled by food motivation, but it's been such a long time since you've eaten. The Boss likes to keep you hungry to keep you on edge. Still, you hold when she presents you with an outstretched hand with three delicious-smelling morsels. You growl louder.

"Ahh, no treats? You have a strong will," she says softly.

You watch her with serious eyes. She smelled as good as she did days ago, her voice soothing, her energy calming. She forces a yawn, showing that she's not interested in confrontation. She drops the treats on the rug next to you. 

She raises her hand to another pocket and pulls out a handkerchief that smells repugnant. You sneeze and growl heavily. She quickly tucks it away and opens another zipper to remove another folded cloth. "Nope."  

Your attention snaps to the new cloth. "Mm, this has your attention. You like this?" 

She holds the handkerchief out to you, and you smell it greedily and begin softly licking the cloth texture. "Ah, Natasha was right about the pheromones. She'll love that. Look at how you are licking…licking it all up..." 

She tries to take the cloth back, and you can't help but reach out and bite it. You try to pull it back from her grasp. “You love women's pheromones, mm? Want to play tug-of-war?" She lightly tugs the cloth, and you move closer but start digging in with the heels of your palms and your knees, leveraging your strong muscles to pull back.

She grins and gives it to you, watching you as you jerk back and then begin to lower yourself to the ground immediately and lick the cloth in earnest. You hear her hum softly, and then you feel a light touch on your back. She waits three seconds, then moves her hand between your shoulder blades. “Many bruises.” She purses her lips and clicks her tongue, “Have you been fighting? Or, have they done this to you?” 

Yelena starts rubbing between your shoulder blades, and it feels like heaven. You barely close your eyes and revel in the touch soothing your knotted muscles. Since you were kicked in the back last week, you had tried to surreptitiously roll on the rug or rub against the Spartan furniture in the room to ease your body aches. You grunt softly as she begins to dig her fingers in. "Aw, you are in such tension."

You lean into her, now sucking on the cloth in your mouth. You subtly ask for more pressure by arching into her hand. She generously gives it to you, softly moving her other hand to guide you on your side. She massages your muscles intensely, and you let out a low whine of pleasure and relief.

"Ah, you are a good pup. Well, you are more like a bear. You are fierce, but you are just a baby. Yes, just a little cub," she modulates her voice high and low, then high again. 

You can't fucking help it; you lean into this new feeling of warmth in your chest and let your tongue lull out and turn all the way over onto your back, showing her your belly and narrowing your eyes to everything but her and her beautiful voice. Yelena.

Yelena gives you a brilliant smile and few more belly scratches and then quickly raises to her feet, leaving you blinking out of your joyful haze. You watch her turn on the Boss's computer and tap the keys. After a few minutes, she pulls a stick from the machine's side and tucks it back into a new pocket. 

You hear her sigh and walk back over to you, folding herself down on her haunches and gently stroking your chin. 

"Drop it." She hooks her thumb into your jaw and pries it open so she can remove the handkerchief. You whine softly, and she smiles at you slowly. "You like my smell. Very good, cub."

After she quietly leaves, you snap up the treats in your mouth and chew as you stare at the door, listening to the light steps of the blonde woman. You hope she turns heel and comes back.

-----------------------------------------------------------

IN THE ROOM | The next week… 

You can hear the Boss pause his typing. He stabs the intercom with his finger and calls out to his crew operating the front of the shop — only static returns.

You hear footsteps in the corridor. Yelena. 

You wait. As the sound of her boots reaches normal human hearing levels, you smell the Boss's anxiety spike in fear.

You wait, wanting to turn invisible. You don't want him to say the words. Those damn words that make you into a ravaging beast. 

Yelena swipes the card and opens the door. 

"Atta…" The word dies on his lips as Yelena puts a bullet dead-on in the Boss's forehead. 

She cuts her eyes to you and pats her thigh twice, "Come here, cub. We're leaving."

Fuck, that voice. You obey.

#dark!yelena belova #dark!yelena belova x reader #dark!yelena #grey!yelena #security measures #scarlettwlw #widow au

[szollibisz]

hiii hiiiiiiiiiii. I uh. yeah. This au has been floating around in my head for a while and I sat down to do some drawings but I realized I should explain it first and this is that.

*puts my blorbos in an inherently hannibal-esque au* I'm getting a lot of hannibal vibes from this...

#it's sad owens fluffy robe isn't clear bc it's all black but worry not. he has it in different colors as well. #scam rich guys out of their money and then run away with your silly little fiance be gay do crime #spies are forever #tin can bros #saf #art #fanart #saf fanart #agent curt mega #owen carvour #spies are forever fanart #tin can bros fanart #curtwen #tin can brothers #no good name for it so i'll just tag these posts with #widow au

[theprofessionalpromptmaker]

International Widows’ Day & Let It Go Day & National Hydration Day

Person A is a widow/widower who lost their spouse to the ocean (a shipwreck, drowning, etc.) and is left with a young child, and due to this, Person A has developed a fear of water and won’t let their child go to the beach. One day, their child sneaks off to the beach and almost drowns since they didn’t realize swimming in the ocean is different than swimming in a pool, but are saved by a merperson, Person B. Person A wants to take their child away from the water and never let them near it again, but their child has become very attached to Person B and doesn’t want to be separated from them, so Person A begrudgingly continues to take them back to the beach to visit Person B frequently. Person B teaches their child to swim and bonds with Person A.

#mod poss #creative writing #writing prompt #writing #prompt #fanfic prompt #fanfiction prompt #story prompt #creative writing prompt #ficinsp #alternate universe #plots and prompts #obscure holiday prompt #mermaid au #ocean au #drowning tw #widow au #single parent au #supernatural au #fantasy au #beach au

[nataliasquote]

Midas Touch | n romanoff

Summary: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

Warnings: affair, cheating wife, forbidden love, small mention of physical abuse (a slap)

Pairings: maid!Natasha x wife!reader

wc: 7.1k 😬

Note: another AU? Why are we even surprised. But this idea fully goes to @katyaromanoffpetrova who does just fuel my need to write every AU possible. If you thought cowgirl Nat was hot… oh just you wait. Also the end got angsty, but you should learn to expect that with me now..

-⧗-

Being up before the sun wasn’t anything Natasha wasn’t used to. Even before she got this job, mornings were her favourite. The way the world looked when it was kissed by the watery sun that rose above the rooftops hours before anyone was awake to see it was one of life’s hidden gems.

And one of the many perks of being a live-in maid to one of the richest men in the America was the views from every window in the staggering mansion. The west side of the house overlooked the bustling city below, which was beautiful at night. But Natasha’s favourite was the east wing that revealed rolling countryside and the perfect place to watch the sunrise over the distant hills.

Her maid duties never started this early, but she didn’t mind being awake. It gave her a sense of peace before the mania of the day began. She wasn’t the only maid in the Barnes residence, but her task was slightly different than everyone else’s. She was Y/n Barnes’ maid and that in itself came with a whole host of other challenges.

Seven am was when her ‘day’ started, for the lady of the house was not an early riser. She usually wouldn’t be seen out of bed until at least nine, but on the days James left for work early, she would always see him off from the front door. And wherever Y/n was, Natasha was never far behind, lurking in the background with her hands clasped in front.

Y/n’s laugh was the first thing Natasha heard of her boss, before she was even seen. Her voice oozed wealth and that laugh practically dripped honey and diamonds as it echoed through the high ceilings of the stairwell. With her arm draped over her husband’s bicep, Y/n lingered on the last step, teasingly trying to tower over James’ muscular frame as he shrugged his suit jacket on.

He muttered something in her ear and Natasha watched as Y/n’s neutral expression suddenly switched to a cunning smile and her fingers fumbled with the small tie holding her feathered robe closed. The front fell open, revealing her nightwear beneath it and it was not hard to see the way James’ eyes fell to his wife’s cleavage for a couple of seconds.

These small moments cemented why they were the nation’s favourite couple, and also why Vogue was so insistent on featuring them on the cover. They were still so lovesick yet utterly perfect in a way that didn’t happen by chance. This level of perfection was almost nauseating.

Y/n stepped down off the bottom stair and looked up at James through her lashes, playing the innocent game despite being anything but.

“Goodbye, my love. Try not to murder anyone today,” she husked in her husband’s ear, draping her arms around his neck with a lazy smile. James’ hand fell to the small of her back and he pulled her into him, kissing her lips hastily.

“No promises. Be good.” Y/n was on her tip toes but hardly felt the coolness of the stone floor on her bare feet. She leaned her face into Bucky’s palm that had risen up to cup her cheek. Soft fingers straightened out the lapels of his pristine suit jacket almost habitually.

“No promises,” she mimicked with a smirk, her eyes sparkling playful up at her husband who was transfixed by her sultry gaze. She was truly a siren, luring him in with a simple glance and a smile. Her power didn’t come from her social status; it came from her. The kind that couldn’t be earned or bought, no matter how much money you had.

With another lingering kiss, James pulled away and reached for the drawer of car keys and selected from the collection of sports cars most could only fantasise about. His dark grey McLaren Senna was today’s pick and he tossed the key in his palm like it wasn’t part of a car costing close to a million dollars. His wealth really was astonishing.

Y/n watched him disappear out of the heavy iron front doors and pulled her robe tighter around her body, concealing the simple navy blue silk slip dress that hung delicately from her shoulders. Her robe matched in colour, of course, and the feathers adorning the trim and cuffs swayed as she wandered into the vast kitchen.

She was the typical rich housewife, but it didn’t look tacky on her. She suited this life. Her wrists, neck and fingers might as well have been crafted to be decked out in priceless jewels, her body to wear only the finest garments. Even just the way she moved oozed grace and elegance subconsciously. A sight for sore eyes.

“Natasha,” she called, knowing the redhead was only a few steps behind her. “I’d like my breakfast on the balcony today please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natasha replied with a small nod of her head.

“Oh, and don’t bother bringing any of that apricot jam you brought yesterday. I only want strawberry, darling. Only strawberry.” She swept back out of the room in a flash of blue and Natasha scurried down to the kitchen to inform the chef.

Now, if it was anyone else, that pet name probably would have sent them reeling. But Y/n was extremely fond of using those names, so it was basically second nature to Natasha.

The breakfast tray was laden with food and beverages as Natasha brought it out onto the balcony. Y/n was relaxing in a chair, still in her nightwear and robe as she scowled over the newspaper in her hand.

“You know, I do find these world affairs awfully boring.” Y/n didn’t bother looking up from her newspaper as Natasha appeared with the tray. She frowned at the column she was reading before folding it away on the table. “I don’t suppose you read that kind of thing anyway.”

Natasha carefully set the coffee pot down on the table. “I try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. But not as often as I’d like.”

“Do you read the paper?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Y/n hummed. “You can have this one if you want. I don’t care for it and James only complains about the headlines. You’d make much better use of it, honey.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I really appreciate it.”

“Natasha stop,” Y/n held her hand up, making Natasha freeze mid pour. “I’ve told you to call me Y/n. All this ‘ma’am is making me feel old!” Y/n sighed dramatically, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I’m not even thirty yet, don’t make me age faster.”

“I’m sorry, Ma-,” she faltered but caught herself quickly, “Y/n, it’s a force of habit.” It wasn’t so much of a habit than it just felt weird to say. This first name basis insinuated they were friends, not two people on drastically different pay grades.

“Well, luckily for you, habits were made to be broken.” There was a heavy intonation in her words, laced with hidden meaning but Natasha just busied herself with setting up the breakfast platter. Various fruits and pastries were laid out, despite Y/n always just picking at a few berries and a croissant. Natasha hung back near the french doors, admiring the scenery so she didn’t watch her boss as she ate.

Y/n slid her sunglasses back onto her nose and stood up to lean over the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing her open robe softly. “Did that package arrive yet? The one from the lingerie company?”

“Yes, it’s in your dressing room.”

“Perfect,” Y/n hummed, her eyes sparkling behind tinted lenses. “I’m going to go try it all on, I think. When you’ve taken the tray, join me, will you?”

Natasha faltered, trying not to look at the outline of her boss’s figure through the thin material of her robe. But with the sun shining through it, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes off the curve of her hips.

“Me?”

“Yes you, Natasha,” Y/n confirmed, smiling to herself. “Who else would I be talking to?”

“My apologises ma’am, I’ll take this right away.”

Y/n didn’t bother correcting Natasha that time, too busy gazing at the rolling landscape beneath her. She found comfort in nature, the way the breeze brushed over her skin and the sun kissed her cheeks making her melt slightly. It differed vastly from the heavy touch of James’ hands, ones she played through a heavy facade to enjoy.

Y/n’s dressing room was that of dreams, just like the rest of her house. But she barely noticed it anymore. Her gaze settled on a white box on the central dresser, smiling to herself. She enjoyed the luxuries of life, and that included lingerie too. She told everyone it was for James, but really it was for her.

She just wanted to feel good for herself.

But those damn feathered sleeves kept getting in the way, so she shrugged her robe off and let it pool on the floor around her feet. She barely noticed the cooler air on her exposed limbs, too busy pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside to reveal the soft coloured lace and mesh, all pastel colours for spring.

Natasha rushed back upstairs as gracefully as she could, passing through the master bedroom to the dressing room at the end. The door was ajar so she knocked three times, as usual, before pushing it open. Her breathing faltered involuntarily.

Was it normal to have that kind of reaction after seeing her boss in nothing but a mini slip dress? There was so much skin and Natasha took a second to gather her thoughts before she announced her presence, keeping her eyes firmly away from the woman in front of her.

“Natasha I want your opinions on these, come here.” The redhead obeyed and joined her side, eyes widening at the items before her. “What do you think?”

This kind of underwear was probably worth Natasha’s entire salary and she was apprehensive to touch it. Her hands stayed by her sides but she tried look objectively, even if she could barely tell the difference between the sets.

“I like that one the best,” she murmured, pointing slightly to a soft pastel blue set. Y/n smiled and plucked it from the box, holding it in front of her.

“Me too, you’ve got good taste.” Y/n slipped one strap of her nightdress from her shoulder and Natasha immediately turned around, almost squeaking at the lack of warning. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Except it was. Because this wasn’t just any woman’s body, it was her mistress’s and there was no way she would ever be able to erase the images burned in her mind.

“I’ll just,” she started, trying to fill the silence by picking up the discarded robe and hanging it on a hook to her right. She caught Y/n fiddling with the bra clasp on her back, the hooks not quite fitting together.

“I hate new clasps,” Y/n exclaimed through gritted teeth, the hooks slipping once again. “Natasha, would you-?”

‘Don’t look don’t look don’t look’ was all that ran through Natasha’s mind as she carefully fastened the bra. She ignored the way her fingertips brushed Y/n’s skin, this wasn’t the first time. She was her maid, for gods sake. But Y/n was usually adamant that she could get dressed by herself, so Natasha rarely found herself around her mistress in just her underwear.

With a muttered thank you, Y/n wandered over to the mirror, adjusting the way her boobs sat in the cups before admiring the set. It was perfect for spring, the baby blue mesh and complimenting white and yellow flowers sitting flush against her tanned skin. The way the material hugged her body rivalled that of a custom made piece and Y/n hummed, content with what she saw in the mirror.

“It looks- beautiful,” Natasha faltered, keeping her composure as best she could. “James will love it.”

Y/n chuckled in the mirror, her hair shaking across her back as she laughed. “You really believe I care what he thinks?”

Natasha’s brows creased. Was that not why Y/n had those underwear sets in the first place? The redhead was empathetic but she didn’t have a significant other, there was no time for that. So her judgement was skewed, and it showed.

“I thought-“

“That’s cute.”

Natasha stuttered. “I’m sorry?”

“You,” Y/n locked eyes with her in the mirror. “You’re cute. James doesn’t care about this kind of stuff, it’s all for me, darling.” She adjusted the strap of her bra and didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes followed her fingers. “And now you, I suppose?”

“No, I wasn’t-“

Y/n swivelled round, hands on her hips. “I’m teasing you, darling, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Frown lines don’t look good on you.” She reached up and softly brushed her thumb between Natasha’s eyebrows, smoothing out the creases that had formed there. The redhead visibly freezed under her touch, the feeling lingering long after her fingers were removed.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha. Who’s the lucky man in your life? Or lady?” Y/n’s eyes shifted, forgetting that she was still in her lingerie set. Natasha breathed out a laugh and darted her gaze to the floor, offering Y/n her robe again.

“I don’t have anyone,” she admitted, missing the look that crossed Y/n’s face. “I spend all my time here, I don’t need anyone.”

“Then I’m honoured to be the lucky lady. And lucky I am.” There was something so alluring about Natasha that Y/n had been hooked on since she laid eyes on her new maid a few months ago. Reserved at first, Natasha was exactly what Y/n needed after years of overbearing and intrusive maids. Natasha was a similar age and felt more like a friend than a maid.

With a confident air about her, Y/n tried on the rest of the lingerie, placing the ones she disliked back in the box with a sigh. Sticking with the blue theme, she slipped on a blue and white sundress, clasped a tennis bracelet around her wrist, slotted her sunglasses into her freshly combed hair and waltzed back onto the balcony. Natasha stayed behind, fumbling with the ribbon around the box before she handed it to the doorman who would organise the return.

The days when James was at work were usually slow and Natasha had some time for herself for a couple of hours whilst Y/n was occupied. Natasha took herself into the city in the late afternoon and ended up in the one store she had never set foot in before.

The lingerie store.

It was a privately owned boutique, of course it was, this neighbourhood didn’t do chain branches, and she quickly walked past the more provocative sets towards the tables at the back. A friendly store worker greeted her but Natasha just kept her head down, politely shaking it when asked if she wanted help.

She was out of her comfort zone, and painfully so, picking up a risky looking set before setting it down a little too quickly. A simple red lace bra caught her eye and she picked it up, only to glance at the price tag and lay it down gently. How could something like that cost so much? Natasha had seen heavier price tags than that of course, she spent her days around Y/n Barnes for god’s sake. But when shopping for herself, everything just seemed too expensive and far too lavish for a plain girl like her.

Natasha was anything but plain, yet she would never see it.

As she looked around the rest of the shop, her mind kept falling back to the red set. It was burned into her mind no matter how many other pieces she saw, and somehow Natasha found herself back at that table again, fingers fumbling over the delicate lace design.

She picked it up, a soft blushing rising to her cheeks at the thought of wearing something so… out there. But the phone in her pocket buzzed and she quickly grabbed it.

Mrs Barnes:

James has set up a date night. I need your help please :)

The red lace set was long forgotten, her mind shifting into work mode in an instant.

Just leaving now. I’ll be there.

When she returned, Natasha headed straight upstairs to find Y/n just leaving the bathroom. Her hair was still dripping and her skin damp, shining in the warm light of her dressing room.

Natasha got to work, drying and styling her hair almost on instinct, having done it so many times. Y/n thoroughly relaxed, adoring the way Natasha felt as she worked through her hair. She softly tugged her roots, but not enough to hurt. Just so it felt like a massage and her eyelids threatened to get heavy.

Date night outfits ranged from lavish to simple, and tonight was a simple night. A little black dress with a deceitful price tag was selected from the closet, a fan favourite of Y/n. She wriggled into the tight material, loving the way it hugged every part of her body as she pulled it up over her chest and slipped the thin straps over her shoulders.

“Where did you go today?” Y/n asked as Natasha zipped up the back of her dress, holding the fabric tight.

“Mostly just window shopping.”

At the mention of shopping, Y/n’s ears pricked up. She wasn’t just making conversation- she was invested. “Did you get anything nice?”

“Not really. Saw a couple of things but-“

“You know you can always take my card if you see something you like,” Y/n insisted, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it out. “What store did you visit?”

“It wasn’t anything special.” Y/n shot her an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “I went to the lingerie boutique-“

“No you did not,” Y/n exclaimed, her jaw dropping in excitement as she turned around, clothes long forgotten. “And you didn’t get anything? Oh darling no, we are taking you back there tomorrow and getting you sorted out.”

Natasha moved over to the heels cupboard and selected a classic pair of black patent stilettos. She placed them in front of Y/n for her to slide her feet into, holding onto her hand for support.

“You’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow, so no, we won’t have time.”

Y/n paused, her dangling earring paused in mid air. “And you think they won’t reschedule if I ask them to?” Her brow raised in a ‘try me’ fashion.

“Y/n,” Natasha began to protest. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like I need anything fancy like you anyway, it’s useless…” she trailed off, a pang in her chest triggering a wave of doubt to shudder down her body. “Vanity Faire won’t be too impressed if you cancel on them again.”

“If they want me, they’re going to have to work around it,” Y/n countered, silencing Natasha as she stalked over, slightly taller than the redhead thanks to her heels. “You are beautiful and you deserve to treat yourself like that. Everyone does, even James and he’s an asshole sometimes. So take this,” she reached into her bra and pulled out her black card, smirking at how Natasha’s brows shot up. “Take this and spoil yourself. I mean it, okay?”

“Thank you ma’am, I’m-“ Y/n almost plucked the card back out of her hand. “Y/n, thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Oh stop it, my ego is big enough already.”

The dressing room door flew open to reveal James, narrowed eyes as he stared at the proximity between the two women. Natasha took a couple of steps back but Y/n stayed put, clasping a bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly.

“Y/n, get out here,” he demanded, never one to speak any clearer than he had to. His wife rolled her eyes at Natasha but obeyed, sending her one final look over her shoulder before the door swung shut.

Now they were alone, James grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall, towering over her in the only way he knew how to display his power. The power he held over his wife, power that meant he could crush with a single fist if he wanted to.

“James,” Y/n grunted, wincing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh around her wrist. “What is wrong with you?”

“Flirting with the maids now, huh?” He growled, thick brows casting a shadow across his eyes menacingly. “I fire one, you move onto the next, is that how it is?”

“And what if I was?” Y/n baited, not flinching as his body trapped her between the wall and his torso. “Are you threatened? By that cute little thing in there?” She nodded her head in the direction of the dressing room where Natasha was before James gripped her jaw and pulled her face back to his.

“Don’t you dare.” But she did dare. She wasn’t sadistic, but the smile that curled the edge of her lips was downright crazy. But she knew how James was; they fought fire with fire, too stubborn to ever back down.

“Careful, James. Marks, remember?” His grip softened lightly. “Wouldn’t want the paps to spin a story now, would we?”

She saw how he wanted to retaliate, but also knew that she was right. He leaned closer before pulling away, huffing through his nose. “You’re so fucking lucky I love you,” he hissed before he let go of her jaw and allowed her to walk away. His job didn’t help his violent side but James had vowed since day one that he would never harm his wife. Y/n knew it too, and she pushed him to the very edge. Just daring him to.

“Weird way of showing it, but ok,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she pushed the door closed and took a breath. Natasha averted her eyes, suddenly so busy with a hanger that had been placed backwards. Did she put it there on purpose? That’s not for anyone to know.

She’d seen the strained moments between the husband and wife but often kept her head down, not wanting to fall under James’ wrath. If she was invisible, it was better, but that was easier said than done with Natasha.

Y/n finished clasping her last few pieces of jewellery before accepting her fur shroud from Natasha. The redhead didn’t let on that she had heard every word said next door, but Y/n knew by the way she avoided eye contact that she had.

“You can have the night to yourself, darling,” Y/n winked, checking over her outfit in the mirror beside Natasha. “And you better buy yourself that set.” She gestured to the card in her maid’s pocket, insisting she used it. “I want proof that you did.”

“Thank you, really.”

Y/n blew an air kiss and disappeared to meet James, leaving Natasha once again alone. She felt the weight of the card in her pocket, seeming to grow heavier the more she thought about it. Y/n meant well, but could she really buy something like that with her mistress’ money?

Whilst Natasha debated with herself, Y/n had put on her ‘public’ face. The one that showed she was so madly in love with her husband, clinging onto his bicep as they moved from the car to the restaurant lobby. Paparazzi followed their every move, of course, and James’ bodyguard ushered the couple into the building as fast as he could.

Most celebrities hated the paps with a passion, but James loved them. He loved how much he manipulated them, and they snapped up pictures of the married couple like there was a drought. There was no doubt those pictures would be spattered across gossip sites by tomorrow morning, but that was only more free publicity for him. James Barnes never lost.

However, despite the perfect image they had carefully constructed, more often than not, date nights with James ended alone. He would excuse himself for a phone call just as the food arrived and Y/n could always see him in a private area of the balcony, phone pressed to his ear whilst his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/n picked at her food in silence, washing every mouthful down with a sip of wine. She ignored the stares and whispers and just played her role to perfection, often sending worried glances out to James.

Tonight she had struck up a harmless conversation with one of the waiters, a young man with a far too eager smile. But she tolerated him for company, politely laughing as he tried to crack an admittedly horrible joke. He was surprisingly good company for the thirty minutes her husband had disappeared for. Although it didn’t help with how sad her situation looked. Y/n was nothing if not flirty, it was in her nature. The way she crossed her legs and looked up through her lashes with a sultry stare had every man, and woman, hooked.

Her siren tendencies didn’t end with her husband, and the waiter hovering by her table was drinking up the attention. It was a big deal for him, one of the hottest women giving up her time to talk to him. He was far too young for her, but Y/n humoured his attempts at flirting, twisting her shoulders so he had a good view from where he was standing. There was a fine line between hot and just plain sleazy, but Y/n would never cross it. She was too good at toying with people.

After a while, James came storming back in, his eyes darkening not only from the outcome of his phone call but also after seeing his wife laughing over another man. His judgement was clouded by anger and he grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to take a bite of his now-cold food. Y/n jumped at his sudden movements but smiled sweetly, thanking the waiter who had stiffened.

“Let’s go,” James growled, throwing down a wad of cash as a tip before storming towards the elevator. Y/n took a moment to gather her things before scurrying after him, her red bottomed shoes clicking loudly against the pristine floor.

“Is everything ok?” She dared to ask once the doors had closed. James looked up briefly, eyed the security camera and clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck shifting too.

“I work with imbeciles,” he grunted, his hand undoing the top button of his shirt in one fluid motion. “How was the food?”

“It was good,” Y/n stated, slightly wishing she could have finished her glass of wine.

“Good? I pay all this money and that’s the best you can do?” Bad phone calls always sent him into this mood, but Y/n had been with him long enough to know how to tame the tiger.

She stepped in front of him and ran her hands up the front of his sculpted chest, brushing over the muscle and up towards his shoulders. “It would have been better if you were there,” she spoke lowly, her hand sliding up to brush the stubble on his jaw.

James slid his hands around her waist possessively, pulling her flush against him. Anyone could walk in, the elevator wasn’t private, but they wouldn’t dare say anything to James Barnes. No one who confronted him ever walked away unharmed.

“Yeah? Even though you had your new little boy toy?” Oh he was jealous and Y/n had to tense every muscle in her body so she didn’t laugh. “I saw you.”

“You really think he had anything on you?” She asked sweetly, playing him just the way she knew. “I was just bored, baby, I missed you.”

“Damn right. I hope that fuckboy knows you’re mine, and mine only.”

“I’m yours, James, I’m yours.”

She was James’, so why did her mind drift to Natasha for a fleeting moment as she said it?

~~~

Y/n had dismissed Natasha for the night earlier than normal, letting her have the evening to herself before they went out. And she praised herself now, knowing James’ rage was just bottled up and sooner or later it would come out. She didn’t want her meek little redhead to have to see that.

And she was right. Whatever James had been feeling, he held it in until they were both nearly ready for bed. Y/n slid her rings off and placed them in the dish on her nightstand, each one clinking against the porcelain as she dropped it.

“What did you talk to him about?”

Y/n paused her movements for a second. “You’re still going on about that? I told you, it was just harmless conversation.”

“It didn’t look harmless, the way you were looking at him.”

Y/n was quite literally at the end of her tether with his accusations. “And how was that? How did I look at him?”

James rounded the bed, the single chain resting on his bare chest catching in the lamplight. “Like a slut.” His eye twitched, a sign he was pissed. “How do you think that looks for me? I step away for two seconds and my wife is whoring herself out to anyone she can find.”

“I find it laughable that you think you were away for two seconds,” she countered, stepping to the side to free herself from where he’d boxed her in. “May I remind you that I had finished my meal long before you even stepped foot back inside. He just came to talk to me and I engaged with the conversation, is that so bad?”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” James spat, his eyes following her figure as she paced around the room. “You shouldn’t-“

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t talk? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A quiet little wife who only speaks when she’s spoken to and follows you around like a lost puppy.” James set his jaw, hands clenching by his sides. But Y/n carried on, spurred on by his accusations. “Well that’s not me James, and you know that!”

She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “How do you think it looks on you? You bring your wife out on a date but then can’t switch off from work for two minutes to actually enjoy your time with her! I’m saving your ass here, so be fucking grateful!”

That last sentence pushed him over the edge and James stormed over to her like a bull, backing her into a corner. “Grateful? Why should I be grateful? You’re a slut and-“

“Then treat me better and maybe I wouldn’t have to stray so far!”

James’ hand had connected with her cheek faster than either of them had time to process, his rings cutting into her skin painfully. They both froze. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, the sting of the slap blooming across her cheekbone. James was breathing hard, his hand still raised from the recoil.

An apology would come… wouldn’t it? It had to, he didn’t mean that. Y/n couldn’t move, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her stomach lurched, just urging James to say something. Anything.

A whole host of scenarios of how the next few moments might play out raced through Y/n’s mind, but she didn’t foresee her husband walking out without a word, a button up shirt in his hand.

She watched the door click shut before she sank to the floor, legs buckling beneath her. She didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth that, yet the tears still fell, dripping down into the carpet that pressed into her knees. It wasn’t from the pain, but from how stupid she felt.

Why was she still pretending? She played off everything he said to her, claiming it didn’t hurt when in reality it cut deep like a knife. Beneath her defences, she just wanted someone to care and not just because she was pretty. She wanted the slow mornings, the affection that wasn’t just for show. The ‘hey how was your day’ that wasn’t just one sided. But Y/n had sacrificed all of that the day she married James, naive enough to think he’d warm up over time.

The house felt eerily quiet and the blanket of night settled across every room. Ignoring how the clock chimed two, Y/n hauled herself up off the floor and trudged down to the kitchen, barely noticing the icy floor on her bare feet.

The freezer must hold ice packs or something similar, anything to stop bruising and swelling that always leads to questions. Y/n didn’t even bother to check if anyone was around before she pulled the door open and rummaged around, falling upon a bag of frozen peas. Not ideal, but it would do.

Except for the hum of appliances, the kitchen was silent and shadows appeared as the dim fridge light cast a small pool around her. No one was here at this hour, so Y/n dropped her guard and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the side of the fridge with exhaustion.

But she wasn’t alone.

A certain redhead had frozen in place, her spoonful of ice cream hovering somewhere between the pint and her mouth. Natasha was a midnight snacker and her feasts were usually undisturbed, but the sound of footsteps had her retreating into a corner.

It was only when she saw that familiar curtain of hair did she emerge, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, to not scare her off.

“Y/n?” Natasha emerged from the shadows, spoon still in her hand. Y/n did a double take but kept her face turned away, forcing her guard up in a split second.

But it was too slow for Natasha. She saw the vulnerability

“What are you doing down here?”

“I came to get a snack,” she replied with as much conviction as a toddler. Green eyes fell to the bag of peas… interesting snack choice.

“Why didn’t you call for me? I would have come myself.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Natasha.”

“Which is exactly my point, why aren’t you asleep-“

Y/n suddenly emerged from the corner and allowed the fridge light to hit her cheek. Natasha recoiled with a gasp, blinking quickly to wake her brain up. Was she hallucinating or was that what she thought it was? Y/n’s eyes were heavy and looked at the floor, too ashamed to watch Natasha’s reaction

“Did he…?”

The lack of response that followed was louder than a thousand words and Natasha felt her blood boil. She would happily be put away for battery if it meant she could get her hands on James, but she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Abandoning her spoon on the metal table with a clatter, Natasha hurried over and prised the bag of vegetables from Y/n’s hand. She wrapped them in a towel and gently pressed them to her cheek, muttering an apology as her mistress winced.

“What happened?”

Y/n chewed her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Natasha nodded. “Ok,” she replied, respecting her wishes. You couldn’t push with Y/n, she had to come to you. “Here, sit up on there.” She helped Y/n hop onto the counter and her body instantly relaxed.

A comfortable silence fell between them both, somehow not affected by Y/n’s reluctance to talk. They never needed words, that’s what Y/n liked about Natasha so much. She was a comforting presence, and Y/n felt so at home around her.

With their faces so close, Y/n felt her chest warming at things she’d never noticed before. There were flecks of brown in Natasha’s clear green eyes, almost mirroring the freckles that danced faintly across her nose. The frown lines she had wiped away earlier were back and Y/n fought the urge to brush them away again.

After ten minutes, Natasha set the ice pack down on the side and helped Y/n down, the stone now digging into her butt uncomfortably. “Just let it rest for a bit before you ice it again. You don’t want to damage the skin.”

Y/n nodded, her face already numb. Their proximity was close but neither made an attempt to move. Natasha couldn’t keep her eyes off how red her cheek looked and Y/n desperately needed something to shut up the voices in her head.

Her eyes dropped down to Natasha’s lips, wanting to cry with how soft they looked. How gentle they’d feel on her skin, a stark contrast to the rough lips she was used to feeling dragging across her collarbones and neck. Natasha was soft and Y/n felt herself craving it.

“No, Y/n no.” Lost in her head, she’d failed to notice Natasha catching on, almost reading her mind. And as much as the redhead would love to reciprocate, it was inappropriate and not just because of her job.

Y/n leaned forwards, eyes glossy. “Please, Natasha-“

“You’re hurting, I won’t-“ Natasha shook her head, taking Y/n’s trembling hand in her own. She could make a pretty educated guess as to what had happened and did not want to be a part of Y/n’s inevitable. She pushed her own feelings down, stuffing them in a box and cramming the lid on tight.

But Y/n never made her life easy. She gripped Natasha’s hand, pulling it into her. “Please?”

“No, we can’t, you know that. And you’re my boss, Y/n-“

“Nat, I- I want you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

The redhead faltered, watching the way her mistress’s chest heaved. Her head screamed at her to stop; it was so wrong. She couldn’t avoid the way her cheek burned red in the dim light, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face. Never had she seen this much vulnerability in the woman who was full of wit and confidence.

The strength she was so used to seeing had completely disappeared and Y/n peered at her with tears on her waterline, her facade crumbling away with every second that ticked by.

Those seconds felt like an eternity before Natasha slowly reached her hand up.

But it was too soon.

Y/n flinched away, a tear escaping as she let out a whimper. Natasha quickly retreated her hand and let the woman before her turn back, not wanting to push her in any way.

“You’re safe,” Natasha whispered. Y/n’s eyes searched hers, trying to find any sign of a lie. But she came up empty. With a trembling hand, she reached for Natasha’s palm and allowed it to cup her other cheek. The touch was soft, warm, and everything she wasn’t used to. Even on instinct, Y/n couldn’t help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering closed for a split second before she forced them open.

“I’ve got you.”

Y/n glanced at Natasha’s lips and back up to her eyes. She needed to feel that warmth, she needed to kiss lips that didn’t curse her all day long.

“Natasha…”

The redhead couldn’t stop herself anymore and let Y/n lean forwards, connecting their lips in the most gentle kiss. Y/n tasted the sweet dessert on her lips as they moved against each other slowly, the hand on her cheek moving around to the back of her neck to hold her in place.

“Did you have ice cream?” Y/n mumbled against her lips, goosebumps lighting up her skin at Natasha’s touch.

“Maybe.”

The kiss wasn’t anything frantic or passionate, it couldn’t be. It was so featherlight that their lips barely touched, but the way Natasha’s blood felt like it was on fire was enough to convince her that they did touch. She let Y/n lead, moving their lips in tandem and fiddling with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

Y/n pulled away, a soft smile on her slightly swollen lips setting Natasha’s heart a flutter. The ache in her cheek was hardly noticeable in that moment; she was too fixated on the redhead in front of her.

She leaned in again, chasing that high she wasn’t ready to come down from yet. But Natasha gently pushed her back, shaking her head softly.

“Y/n, we can’t. We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” Y/n’s coping mechanisms were unhealthy to say the least, and as much as it pained her, Natasha couldn’t support that. Clarity had hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt settled in the bottom of her stomach, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.

What were they doing?

Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched Y/n retreat into herself, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth slightly. Her eyes were glossy but the tears refused to spill over. Every muscle in her body was rigid, almost as if she was scared that if she moved, the dam would break and everything would come flooding out. Y/n may be good at a lot of things, but emotional confrontation was not one of those things.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She lingered for a moment, just willing Natasha to speak, to take back her words. Maybe if she closed her eyes, those lips would be on hers again. Their Midas touch, concealing the ache in her heart for a few fleeting moments was all she wanted.

But when Natasha stayed silent, Y/n turned and left, leaving the makeshift ice pack abandoned on the side. She couldn’t stay and let herself fall apart anymore. Her heart had broken twice that night, but why did it hurt so much worse now? Why did Natasha, her maid, have a stronger grip on it than her husband?

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[romanoffsbish]

Y/N (Natasha’s Version)

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Natasha x Bucky (blip / referenced)

Warnings: “Cheating” | Underage Drinking | Internalized Homophobia

Request | You heard the rumors from Darcy, unfortunately they were true—Natasha missed you, so she showed up at your party | WC: 2,799

Betty by Taylor Swift, sapphic canon not just coded and slightly aged up to the start of college (18+)

As the car rolled away, Natasha felt her throat constrict. Where there once was a sunset on the horizon, in blush waves of pink and orange, she only saw an apocalyptic sky where red slowly bled into grey.

——

The perfectly paved streets restored to their prior days as the pre-gentrified road of your shared Brooklyn suburb became her current hallucination. Tied to the tail pipe of your mother's beaten down corolla was her heart, thumping against the cracked pavement. The natural gaps in the organ were filled by pebbles. As the car disappeared she felt shattered, the string pulling her heart had broken and the organ fell into a pothole.

Is it over now? No, Natasha couldn't face that...

As your mom's Tesla turned left the redhead let the sob she had been holding in out. Her body collapsed into a shroud of darkness as her blackout curtains shut, the blankets atop of her mattress moved to suffocate her.

Good, she wanted to die; she knew she was being dramatic but in this moment it felt like her barely even an adult world had ended. Her hit list was growing steadily, first she would kill Wanda, her idiot best friend that posted the photo of her with Bucky.

They were awkwardly kissing, and the redhead deleted it from her stories in a matter of minutes, but it was too late. Darcy saw it, the mutual friend who moved to the same city as she had, and she blabbed instantly. The woman called Jane, who then confirmed that there was actual proof this time before she phoned you in.

Natasha returned to town just in time to see the one consequence she never pondered when experimenting; your face was neutral, but your eyes were crestfallen.

It was just a stupid experience she needed to have, a short summer fling, it lasted not even two weeks. It was reckless and she knows that now. You'd slapped her hand away just days ago, then in a split second she found out from Yelena that you were going to NYU.

The blonde saw you at her late orientation for those stellar high school students interested in an early start. Natasha cried that night knowing you were leaving, you wouldn't be taking the gap year with her anymore.

Your heart was attached to her line, and she never considered that she should've just talked to you. It should have occurred to her that you would be upset. Considering the two of you were together, in a sense; not exactly girlfriends, but far more than friends.

Natasha regretted the affair as soon as it started, but she just needed to know if her Russian parents, who were raised back home were ready for her truth.

James was a total gentleman, her parents would've loved him since the young boy was affluent with Russian and the culture, but he wasn't the right fit. Natasha knew that after one attempt at kissing him, his lips were gruff and his hands were just the same as they roamed her form, the touch filled her with dread.

Unlike yours, which never came without words of confirmation and were soft when granted permission. Natasha found immense comfort at the feeling of your pillowy soft lips against hers alongside your gentle roaming hands. It went beyond the physical touch too, which really only served to prove to her she was a raging lesbian. When she looked into Bucky's ice blue eyes she felt nothing, not even a tether of friendship, but with you she felt that obnoxious fluttering in her stomach, and the world she saw were more vibrant.

Every time you were near her body and mind felt serene, like she could rest around you without the unease she felt around most. Everything was different now and she felt it deep within. You're gone, and with you left the comfort and love she needed to breathe.

That night, as sleep inevitably consumed her tortured mind Natasha found herself determined to fix this. It was a misunderstanding—you'd understand, right?

——

A week had gone by, Yelena had mentioned how she ran into you at the cafe where you treated her to a hot cocoa. Not allowing the turmoil with Natasha to affect the way you approached her little sister. It had warmed her heart and even made her smile, then the blonde sarcastically mentioned that you looked sad, her harsh delivery sought to remind her sister it was her fault.

Though she didn't leave her with only the reminder of her shortcomings, but also of an opportunity to amend.

"There's a frat party this weekend, Y/N's going."

Which is why Natasha was racing down the stairs at 8pm on a Saturday. Normally you two would be cuddled up in her bed, watching your favorite show while surrounded by every snack known to man. The party lifestyle never appealed to either of you and a part of her ached as she wondered why you're going.

How deeply did her betrayal change your outlook on life? Did her foolish decision make you think you needed to change? Were you afraid you weren't lively enough? Fuck, did you intend to move on tonight?

Natasha shook her head when she heard a honk, the depressing thoughts having consumed her into a state where she was mindlessly driving. Fortunately, she didn't hit anyone and was able to focus her mind long enough to make it to the college where she saw chaos.

Bodies of various students bustled across the campus quad, some in the direction of the main buildings but majority of them headed to a road far off to the side of the grand lecture halls. On the left side were rather large houses painted in varied shades of pastel, they were clearly well maintained. On the right stood a parallel set of houses, but the paint job was dull and there were pieces missing from many of the fixtures.

What stood out most though, was the black house in the center of them all, currently surrounded by idiots with red solo cups in their hands. The bulk of them laughing at the joke another drunken fool had made.

Natasha cringed when a body collided into hers, and as if things couldn't be worse she recognized the woman, Darcy. The raven haired woman stood in shock for a split second before offering the familiar face a smile. It was lopsided and it was clear the woman was faded.

Natasha was annoyed initially, but quickly saw the woman as a means to an end. "Where's Y/N?"

The woman pursed her lips and shrugged. "Inside?"

As she should've expected, the blabbing stoner only offered information to others when it wasn't helpful. Natasha passive aggressively pushed by her and took the risk of entering the house full of underage bodies.

Loads of upperclassmen foolishly tried to stop her on her determined journey to you, but most were met with bruised nuts alongside their cowering egos. In a matter of thirty minutes she had checked the entirety of the cloudy building and a part of her beamed at that.

You were nowhere to be found, her heart hoped that you'd returned to the dorm she finessed out of Yelena.

There was a nervous flutter in her chest that brought her frantic searching to a pause and made her mouth run dry. A pang of fear that paralyzed her body in place as she now considered the endless possible outcomes.

Would you even open the door if you knew it was her?

The redhead was sure you didn't have peepholes but there's the likely chance of you slamming the door shut in her face, that felt worse. Not nearly as bad as her next thought, what if you were exploring too, just like she had with Bucky? Her hands became shaky at the hypocritical unease she felt about you moving on.

In her nervous state she took a sip of the punch before she promptly spit it back out into the red solo cup. If she wasn't nauseated before she sure as hell was now. A water bottle was just in her reach, properly cold and a perfect cure to wash away the disgust on her tongue. Just as she began to unscrew the lid though she found herself frozen again as she heard a familiar giggle.

Natasha's head spun to the left side then the right. A blur of pointless people filled her vision before she found the source of the laughter—her happiness.

Stood directly across the room, in a gorgeous red dress with a familiar leather jacket hanging loosely over your likely bare shoulders. Her cheeks tinted pink, a sense of relief nearly washed over her at the notion of you potentially not hating her like she feared. Then she frowned, you wore a bright smile as you sipped on a juice box. It warmed the heart of your once secret lover to see you looking so carefree, a stark contrast to the last time, just like she always remembered you to be.

This time though, you were enraptured by a stupid jock, they bore an uncanny resemblance to herself that made her stomach swoop with a fragile sense of hope.

If you looked for her in another, she stood a chance, even if it was microscopic and not guaranteed. Right?

Yes or no, it didn't matter. Natasha would not go down without a fight, she once beat off an entire group of boys for taunting you, she'd gladly do it again for you.

Fortunately for the redhead she wouldn't have to. It was like something out of a movie the way your eyes locked with hers, the sounds became muted and you felt a dull flutter in your stomach where it used to be a roaring surge of butterflies to symbolize a deep love. A swarm of tears hung at the edge of your lashes and the massive room suddenly became too claustrophobic.

Natasha didn't question it as you took off, nor did she hesitate to dart after you as you aimlessly ran out the back door and stumbled upon an unexpected garden.

Who knew the dude bros also bore green thumbs?

Natasha found you sobbing over their patch of carrots and couldn't refrain from softly chuckling. Even in your grief you were finding a way to be useful and it filled her with nostalgia, it was just so inherently you.

Once your eyes shot up to hers, narrowed and enraged she realized she wasn't as quiet as she thought. "Fuck off Natasha." The joy on her face neutralized as she fell to her knees in front of you, her instinct was to reach out—to pull you in, but with words left unsaid and your clear disdain verbalized she knew it was best not to.

Every other time she'd seen you cry she held you close, but in this moment all she could do was grab the loose, fraying threads of your light brown cardigan and wrap it around her tiny, chiseled frame as if hugging herself.

A part of you softened when your eyes caught the self-soothing move, and the urge for answers won over your decision to never speak to the heartbreaker again.

"Why?" Natasha's frown worsened, the crack in your voice mirrored the ones in both of your naive souls.

"I missed you," she instantly answers one of the questions attached to the simple word, "and I needed the chance to explain myself before you give us up."

"Us?" You scoffed and didn't even care that she flinched. "You moved on first Natasha, without even a heads up—I found out through the local pothead."

"No," she denied with a shaky voice, "I didn't mean."

"Oh please," you cut her off, "I don't do cliches Natasha and you very well know that. I just don't understand."

"Let me speak," she croaked desperately, "I don't know why I didn't come to you with this query det—Y/N."

A shiver of delight betrayed you as it ran down your spine when you heard the delicate beginnings of the pet name Natasha assigned to you in middle school. The notion alone should have been enough for the redhead to know, but feelings were never definite enough for her, much like her mom she leaned into empirical evidence and just this once it has failed her.

"I needed to know," she continued. "Know what?"

You saw the way her nail beds were raw and red, much like her eyes as she attempted to refrain from crying more as she whispered, "when I came out to Mama and Papa, I had to know if you were my one and only, or if the urge to kiss girls since pre-k was truly genuine."

"So you kissed some random guy? I wasn't enough?"

"I couldn't just trust my heart here," she replied with frustration clear in her tone, but she quickly softened as she saw your hurt expression, she reminded herself that this uncomfortable, targeted feeling was her fault.

"Why him?" Natasha saw an insecurity in your eyes that infuriated her at her core, as if he ever compared to you. "He was their type," she answered truthfully.

You hummed and turned away from her, staring out into the black abyss that was the forestry behind the college. It intrigued you, nearly enough to run into it but you saw the danger there, but as you peered over at Natasha again you found the resentment melted away; the butterflies found a gust of wind to flutter against.

You shakily found the nerve to ask her, "so, was I?"

A few seconds of silence followed as the redhead worked to understand your question, Natasha's lip trembled as your intentional verbiage left her feeling hopeless, but she spoke her truth, "You always will be."

A mix between a groan and humorless laugh left you, "I said no cliches Natty, if you want to win me over..." Instead of saying another word you stood up and left.

Natasha's eyes widened and she stumbled to her feet, intent on following you as you slowly walked back towards the party she had no particular interest in joining. To her satisfaction you merely smiled at a friend as you grabbed your bag from by the couch.

Wordlessly you continued out the front door, and a giggle left you once Natasha grabbed you by your hip from the side, her body twisted around you and her other hand landed on your other hip. The beauty wore a hesitant smile on her face as she peered up at you.

Natasha breathlessly pled, "Can I kiss you, please?"

"A kiss on the steps of a college frat party," you teased, a smirk on your ruby tinted lips, "is grossly overdone."

The redhead moved her arms around your waist and yanked you forward anyways, "cliches are romantic." Her anxiety bitten lips pressed into yours, of course you felt the way her body relaxed due to your touch and the last bit of doubt left your body as she spun you around until your legs wrapped around her waist.

In a moment of excitable weakness you sighed, "I only will accept kisses like this going forward." Natasha chuckled at the change up, and you glared instantly, "I refuse to be a spectacle though, so take me to the car!"

Natasha refused to take any chances with your bubbling forgiveness so she rushed forward, gentle as can be as she settled you into the raised truck. It was automatic as you reached for her aux, "let's go to our spot—you can continue to win me over with food..."

A soft kiss was placed on your cheek in thanks, you knew this because Natasha always did this after a fight. Usually it was over something silly, like who was the masked killer or where you two should get dinner, but it was always true, the action was a promise of peace.

The redhead put the car in drive, pulling onto the quiet roads of a rural New York mountainside, windows rolled down allowing you to enjoy the crisp air as she went slightly above the 50mph speed limit. Whenever she could she'd cast a glance your way, and even in the dark she could catch your radiant smile as you quietly sang along to, "begin again," by Taylor Swift.

After a few moments of quiet driving on the redheads part you felt the presence of a hand, crippled by hesitation hovering over your thigh. With a gentle finger you pressed it down and looked to her with a gaze that held both hesitation and a willingness to understand, to forgive and hopefully, to start anew.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #gxg #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x female reader #black widow #black widow imagine

[alotofpockets]

Misconceptions | Yelena Belova

Pairing: Popular College Student!Yelena Belova x Quiet!Reader

Summary: The most popular girl in school is showing interest in you, the quiet girl. What will happen when you don't realize she's actually interested in you and not just wants you to do her homework? [Full request]

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1.5k

At school you were known as the quiet girl, or sometimes even the loner. You didn’t have any friends at college and made no effort to get to know people. For you there was a reason behind your choices, to others it just seemed like you were weird. You studied alone, you had lunch alone, you didn’t hang out with people, it was just you. 

During lunch you felt watched, the feeling was nothing new. People tend to enjoy making fun of the outcasts. When you searched through the crowd to see who it was, you found Yelena Belova’s eyes looking back at you. Yelena was one of the most popular girls in the school, currently sitting with the rest of her popular friends at a lunch table across the cafeteria. She didn’t even look away when the two of you made eye contact, while her friends were laughing. In annoyance you roll your eyes, pack your stuff and head to your next class.

*Meanwhile at Yelena's table* 

"What's wrong with you guys? She's just a person." Yelena says, annoyed with her friend's reaction to her interest in wanting to get to know you. "Yeah, a weird person." Josh answers, gaining him cheers and high fives from his friends. "Grow up." Yelena says while she packs her stuff and goes after you. She finds you in the hallway looking at your phone. "Hey, y/n." She says approaching you. You look up from your phone but don't greet her back. Yelena continues on, nonetheless. "I'm sorry about my friends." You shrug, you were used to it by now. "Hey, I was wondering if you would-" You cut her off before she could finish. "I'm not interested in doing your homework." You tell her and walk off. Yelena stands there dumbfounded, is that really how people treated you? All she wanted to do was invite you to a party next week. You went on with the rest of your classes, and continued your day. After your last class you went back to your dorm, turned your gaming device on and plopped down on your bed. Finally, you could relax and not have to worry about people watching your every move. 

A few days pass without any major interactions with ignorant people. Until Thursday afternoon, you had just grabbed your books and notes for your next class from your locker and were walking in the hallway on your way to your next class. You didn't think it was necessary to put all the stuff you just grabbed in your bag, since you'd have to take it out in just a couple minutes anyways, so you carried the books and your folder full of notes in your arms. You slow down when you see Chris standing right in front of you. Chris was the quarterback for the school's football team. He was tall. He was strong. He was intentionally blocking your path. You took a deep breath before you said, "Excuse me, can I pass?" He laughs, "I don't think so." There was not much you could do physically to get past him, so your only option was to ask again, as there was no other hallway that led to the classroom that you needed to go to. "Come on, just let me through, please." All he did in response was knock your books and folder out of your hands, your notes flew out of the folder and scattered across the floor. 

Before you could say anything else you heard a voice from behind you. "Chris, what is wrong with you? This is not how you treat people." Yelena walks past you and stands in front of Chris. "I do not want to see you near y/n ever again, do you understand?" Chris nods, he suddenly seemed small, like he was scared of Yelena, who was like a foot smaller than him. "Good, now scram." She says sternly. Her stern voice and angry face instantly soften when she turns around and looks at you. "I'm sorry, something like that won't happen again, I promise." She kneels down and starts gathering your papers, you join her and put everything back in the folder. "Why are you being nice to me?" You ask when she hands you the pile that she gathered. "Why wouldn’t I?" Yelena shrugs. “People tend to not be nice to me, as you’ve just witnessed. It’s not really the norm for people like me. People tend to only be nice to me when they want something from me. You know, like you did the other day.” 

“I didn’t want anything from you, I just wanted to invite you to a party. I’m sorry people are so horrible.” - “You want to invite me to a party, which will most likely consist of people who are horrible to me?” Yelena looks down at her feet, “Yeah, I didn’t really think that one through.. I thought it would be fun to hang out outside of school and get to know each other.” You’re finding it hard to believe that the most popular girl in the school wants to hang out with you, so you push. “What would your friends think when they see you hanging out with me?” Yelena is quick to respond, “I don’t care what they think. If they were to have a problem with it, which in my mind is totally unreasonable, that’s on them and they should grow up.” Hearing her say that, plus her standing up to you was starting to make you feel like she might actually be interested in getting to know you. You could just see where it would take you right? “Okay, we can hang out, but I’m not going to that party. Maybe we could go to an arcade or something?” Yelena smiles, “Yes, that sounds great.” 

You walk to your next class together, now definitely late. Yelena told you not to worry about it and follow her lead. She opens the classdoor and you both walk in. Yelena walks up to the professor and whispers, “I’m sorry Sir, there was a little time of the month issue, if you know what I mean.” He nods, “Take a seat.” The two of you find an empty set of tables at the end of the classroom and sit down next to each other. You worked together on the assignment of the class, and already you started to realize more and more that Yelena didn’t want anything more than to get to know you. You were laughing and making jokes about the assignment together. At the end of the class Yelena writes down her number in your notes. “Text me so we can make plans.” She hands you back the paper and is out the door. You look after her with a smile on your face.

When you get home from school, you grab your notes and add Yelena’s contact. You sent her a message right away.

You: Hey Yelena, it’s y/n. Did you still want to go to the arcades?

Yelena: Yes, of course! Do you have plans tonight?

You: No, not really.

Yelena: Great, can I pick you up at 8pm?

You: Yeah, sounds good :)

You sent her your address before you get started on your homework. Your mom calls you downstairs for dinner, you sit down at the table and tell her about your plans tonight. She’s both excited and nervous, but she tells you to have fun before she leaves for her night shift. Soon after you changed into a different outfit, you heard the doorbell ring. Yelena stood on the other side of the door with a big smile, “I’m sorry, I know I’m a bit early, I was just very excited for tonight. I can wait if you’re not ready yet.” Her eagerness calms your nerves. “I’m ready, let’s go.” You smile and walk to her car. At the arcade you played games the whole evening, you were better at aiming games and she was better at speed games. You had so much fun, you can’t remember when the last time was that you had laughed this much. At the end of the evening you traded in all your tickets for prizes. You got some snacks for the way back from your tickets, while Yelena got the biggest teddy bear that her tickets could buy. She hands the teddy bear to you, “Here, this is for you.” She says with a nervous smile. You take the bear and hold it tight. “Thank you, I love it.” Yelena grabs your hand and leads you back to her car. The moment her hand touched your, your heart skipped a beat. 

Yelena drives you back home and walks you up to your door. “I had a lot of fun tonight.” Yelena shares. “Me too, maybe we can do it again sometime?” You look up at her with hopeful eyes. “Yes, I would love to.” She takes a step closer to you and kisses your cheek. “I’ll text you when I get home safely.” You stand on the porch watching her leave. How on earth was all of this happening?

Yelena: I made it. Have a good night x

You: Good night x

💗If you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a coffee💗 

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova imagine #yelena black widow #yelena belova x you #marvel #marvel imagine #college au

[abbyromanoff]

Hello bestie! I hope you’re doing better <3

This is only a request if they’re open, if not enjoy the thots!

Stepmom!Nat finding reader humping a couch or anything in the area to get off cause her one night stand left her horny. R’s mom is out of town and Nat starts getting hard and realizes it’s now or never to have and cum inside her stepdaughter.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1956

WARNINGS: step parent/step child relationship, cheating (Nat is married to R’s mom, talks of unfulfilling marriages, Nat has a dick, smut obvi, jealousy, hook ups, 69’ing, masturbation, cunnilingus, mentions of anal, blowjobs, denied orgasm, praise, degrading, age gaps (legal), R is 19-20 ish and Nat is late 30’s - early 40’s, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

She listened with a scowl as the bed from your room creaked, small moans being heard through the wall. This wasn’t fair, how could you do this to her? How could you bring a girl home, have a rushed introduction between her and Nat, and then disappear into your room where you let her touch you? She was the one meant to do that, she was the one meant to take your innocence and ruin you for anyone else, yet here you were with another.

She wasn’t able to deny the fact that your small moans turned her on, but she could tell they were fake. She could differentiate the silent, hidden sounds you’d let out while calling her name as your fingers slid in and out of you quickly from this. You were most likely imagining her, which was the reason you kicked the girl out only a few moments later.

She shouldn’t be feeling this way, you were her stepdaughter, her wife’s child. But she never truly loved your mom, she was rich and alone and seeking for any sort of love that your mom bombarded her with, she thought that’s what always happened. She thought it was normal to grow sick of your lover, to dread them coming home from work, to deny them constantly of sex and only use it as a way to get off. She never knew true love, and she blamed that on her parents. But she wanted it, she wanted to love that woman so badly, yet over time she realized it wasn’t that she craved her, she craved the person she created.

Her sleepless nights were caused by your lingering voice, the images of you beneath her, and the desire to kiss your plump lips. You constantly were bringing home someone else, and it took everything in her not to rip you away from them and have you for herself. She had self-control, her job required such, but with you it was a different story. She wasn’t able to focus at work, she’d toss the papers across the room and throw her head in her hands. But then you’d arrive.

You begged for a job there, to be her assistant or lower-class worker stating you needed the money desperately. She wasn’t able to deny your pleading eyes or the warm feeling in her chest. You’d bring her lunch oftentimes before, but having you work for her full-time was a dream come true. She would more than likely struggle even more to keep her composure, but she lost all care for that months ago.

The door slammed shut and she assumed your one-night stand finally left, which took long enough. She was planning to rush into your room and finally take what was hers, even standing right in front of the entrance with a fist to the door. Then she heard a small buzzing. The door was cracked open just a tiny bit, she guessed the girl was too lazy to even close a door properly but she couldn’t have been more thankful. She lowered her arm and listened closely, pressing her ear against the hardwood and biting her lip as your moans arrived once again, this time they weren’t forced.

“F-fuck! Mhm, right there, Nat, right there-“ You cut yourself off with a hand covering your mouth, your fear of being heard finally coming to mind. Your stepmother wasn’t pleased, she wanted to hear everything just like Carol got to. At least she thinks her name is Carol, she didn’t care enough to listen or shake the waiting hand earlier.

“‘M gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” Came your muffled scream, your legs starting to shake from the denied orgasms sent your way. Now you were getting release, and the one woman on your mind was Nat, how pathetic. Not only was she your boss, but she was also your mother's wife. She was much too old for you and you both knew that, but that didn’t stop the want in your heart.

“You look so pretty when you cum, little slut.” You nearly jumped out of your bones, rushing to cover yourself but failing to turn off the vibrator, leaving a deadly silence filled with buzzing.

“Don’t cover yourself, baby, I wanna see you.” She stalked forward, cupping her crotch as her thumb ran circles around her clothed tip. She fiddled with her shirt before pulling it off, exposing her black bra and breasts that were aching to be freed. You gulped, trying to look away from the sight in shame but not being able to.

“You’re- you’re gorgeous, Nat.” She blushed at your comment, her knee landing on the bed as she crawled towards you, resting your chin in her fingertips. She leaned closer, her gaze switching between your lips and your eyes as she begged for permission. You took a moment to respond but eventually nodded slowly, causing her to press her mouth against yours in a slow but sensual kiss. Her hands rested your hair behind your ear, her body pulling closer as her cock was now throbbing. If you looked close enough, you could see a small wet stain soaking through her pants, she hoped you didn’t notice. But she also wanted you to, she wanted you to see how much she craved your body against hers.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you.” She confessed, experiencing relief when you smiled, kissing her softly in return. You were already growing addicted to the feeling, wanting to stay in this exact position for the rest of your life. But she wasn’t yours, she was a married woman, a woman married to your mother, at that.

“No-…no, we can’t-“

“Why not?” Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, her eyes ranking over your worried expression as your breathing picked up ever-so-slightly

“You’re married… to my mom. You’re my stepmom!” She shushed you with a finger to your lips, smirking gently as her hot breath fanned over your face.

“Not tonight. Tonight I’m your Mommy, you got that?” You whimpered and it nearly resulted in a moan from the older woman. Hearing you get like this all for her turned her on so greatly, she couldn’t even explain. Your mother was never exciting in the bedroom, or Nat just didn’t like the things she wanted to do. But she found herself wanting to do them with you, she wanted to do anything and everything with you.

“Tell me what I want to hear, angel.” Her hips created a small thrusting motion the harder she got, it was becoming impossible to ignore her needs. You gulped, fighting back tears of shame as you whispered,

“You can be my Mommy, Nat.” She left a peck on your forehead and slowly removed the sheets hiding her prize. Her final destination.

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to get a taste of this sweet, sweet pussy.” She didn’t let you even utter a word before spreading your legs and pressing her tongue against your heat. Your hand instantly returned to its original placing over your mouth in order to keep silent. You knew your mother wouldn’t be home for a few more days, but what if that cut short? What if she somehow caught a virus and had to leave early and planned on surprising the two of you? Not only was the fear of being caught roaming freely in the back of your mind but so were your nerves. Nobody had ever truly seen this side of you, where you were beyond ecstatic and touch-starved. Nobody had ever felt you tug desperately on their arm to bring them closer, Nat wasn’t like the others. She was strong with her biceps nearly bulging out of her suit jackets daily. Her kiss was soft, even when she was hungry for a different part of you. You could sense that she truly wanted to taste you and didn’t just do so to get you wet, you were already dripping onto the sheets before she even wrapped her tongue around your pulsing clit.

“So precious,” She muttered, instantly returning to her previous position. She pressed your folded legs against your chest for a better angle, and the moan that left you in return could’ve been considered pornographic. Her tongue briefly slid across your second hole and caused a small thrust from your end, your body yearning for her to repeat.

“Oh, Mommy..” Her moan sent a thrill through your entire being, it seemed to be the only reaction she was able to give you. She was scared to show you her true aspirations. She was scared to have you see the impulses she’d try to stop in worry that you’d run. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to claim you as hers but treat you like you were nothing but a toy for her to use. She’d just have to get you attached to her, then you’d comply with anything she said.

Images flashed through her head, ones where you were sat on your knees, her cock trapped deep inside of your throat while her hand held you firmly in place, forcing you to take all of her. She knew you could do it, she had faith in you.

“‘M sorry, baby, I need you too fucking bad.” She reluctantly pulled away from you and patted you softly, leading you to kneel in front of her. She laid in the same position you had been when she guided your mouth to her crotch, your thighs tightening around her head before she continued her previous acts. Her tongue licked stripes up your weeping cunt as you pulsed around nothing, the sobs coming from your mouth being silenced as it was met with her drooling tip. You sucked weakly, the tiredness catching up to you as you gathered the strength to stroke her balls softly. Her hips jutted upward, resulting in a small gag as she fell deeper inside of you. You didn’t stop it, you didn’t even try as you let her do all the work. She was fucking you and guiding you to fuck her. Teaching you how to do everything just like always, just how she liked it. She enjoyed being a leader to you, she found it unbearably arousing to see your eyes looking up at her, asking for help.

You felt your orgasm approaching and tried to warn her, but she could already sense it.

“It’s okay, you can cum all you want.” She seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. The thought worried you, but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you felt your stomach repeating a clenching until you screwed your eyes shut, your vision going blank as you could see stars forming all around you.

She was greedy the moment she got her mouth on you, but now she seemed animalistic. Her hand came to your scalp, forcing you further down on her just like she had envisioned. You had no complaints in mind, choosing to instead swallow the hot liquid oozing out of her. She wished she could see your face right now: makeup ruined, eyes droopy, along with a small grin you wore.

“I wan’ more, Mommy,” She knew she succeeded when those were the words that left your mouth as soon as you were given the privilege to speak. She smirked, her thumb teasing the small hole that lined your ass. She had always found her sight landing on it whenever you’d pass by her, her thoughts seeming to have one more thing to feast on.

“Get on all fours, princess, I want to fuck this tight little hole next.”

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