#Ruthless Russians
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Her Russian Brute by Theodora Taylor
5 stars
audiobook
This had some extra depths I wasn’t expecting! These two didn’t seem to work, until they did, and that made them all the better in the end 😊
#Theodora Taylor#Her Russian Brute#Ruthless Russians#50 Loving States series#Kobo Plus#Audiobook#TBR reads#am reading#read romance#romance reader#romance books#read#romance#books#reader#bibliophile#book love#book blogger#book review#steamy reads
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i would have been more or less fine emotionally dealing with all the bad things surrounding kp that have been happening these past months, including today, but people here and in other parts of internet are making me (and themselves) miserable. when being on this app is supposed to be fun, to be about getting all my thoughts out through silly pictures and about distracting me from quite harsh reality. i will calm down and work on myself and probably unfollow a bunch of people after i sleep on it. then i will stop myself from getting into fandoms ever again, only read fics as a source of happiness, make my own ridiculous blog posts and edits, and look at other people's. social media is for shits and giggles
#mine#we are all queer yet we are so different it's interesting to contemplate for me#i miss my russian lgbtq blog because it was so much more peaceful and calming to throw content into#i'm crying for real this time because of how painful it is#i should put my efforts into making myself good enough for a ruthless hot mafia husband who is somewhere out there for me#instead i'm going through this shit. no more
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Эпик - Бессердечие - перевод
youtube
[Лестригоны]: Посейдон! Посейдон! Посейдон! Посейдон! Посейдон! Посейдон! Посейдон!
[Одиссей]: Посейдон…
[Посейдон]: Немало в жизни видел, Не так уж просто в ярость привести меня. Я мягче пены морской, но ты ступил за грань! Благоволил вам! Но сын сражён твоей рукой… Всё так! Циклоп, твой враг слепой - Он мой!
[Одиссей]: Нет!
[Посейдон]: Другого нет пути! К чёрту слабости! На акулу вышла в море волчья стая! Кровью заплати! Убью без жалости! Напоследок тебе истина простая:
[Посейдон и лестригоны]: Бессердечие - доброта к себе! Бессердечие - доброта к себе! Бессердечие - доброта к себе! К себе!
[Посейдон]: Праведником себя мнишь, Хотя слаб ты душой! Трусливый, лживый "герой", видишь Как ты смешон?! Ты "спасаешь" других, Но не можешь идти до конца! Если б мой сын был милосердно убит, Он не звал бы отца… Но нееет!
[Посейдон]: Благородный сир, Выбирая мир, Бьёшься рыбой ты об лёд, что под ногами! Имя сам назвал, Мук не оборвал! Я ж излишним милосердьем не страдаю!
[Посейдон и лестригоны]: Бессердечие - доброта к себе! Бессердечие - доброта к себе! Бессердечие - доброта к себе! К себе!
[Посейдон]: И вот он пришёл, ваш час, Прощанья миг - Я вас настиг! Коль не покаетесь сейчас За сына крик, За его глаз…
[Одиссей]: Молю я, нас не казни! Мы бились все за свои жизни! Мы не хотели навредить, Мы только лишь хотели жить!
[Посейдон]: Наивен так, иль просто глуп? Надежде не согреть уж остывший труп. Вот твой урок: Наш мир жесток.
[Лестригоны]: И бессердечье это -
[Посейдон]: Сдохните.
[Лестригоны и команда]: (Бессердечие - доброта к се-) Капитан! Капитан! (Бессердечие - доброта к се-) Капитан! Капитан! (Бессердечие - доброта к се-) Капитан! Капитан! (Бессердечие!) Капитан!
[Одиссей]: …что ты натворил?..
[Команда]: …Что превратит дымку-рябь в девятый вал?..
[Посейдон]: Лишь сорок три под твоим крылом…
[Команда]: …Что превращает мужчину в монстра?..
[Посейдон]: Твой личный сон кошмарный, Я - монстр, что рядом всегда! Последние слова?
[Одиссей]: Всё, что нужно, - лишь мне открыть мешок!
[Посейдон]: Что?!
[Посейдон]: Помни меня…
#russian#rus sub#russuian post#translation#translyrics#epic#epic the musical#jorge rivera herrans#steven rodriguez#the epic ensemble#ruthlessness#epic the ocean saga#odyssey#odysseus#poseidon#laestrygonians#Youtube
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больше tennis videos are great this is like public therapy sessions for andrey
#cant stop talking about this channel im sorry im so obsessed with how ruthless the interviewer is#andrey in english interviews: i am very private please do not ask me anything#andrey in russian interviews: do you want to know about my childhood trauma#sometimes the interviewer is like ‘we’re talking about this topic but dont tell me the details thats personal’ and he’ll go ‘im telling you’#like lmfao#but aside from that she’s constantly making remarks about how stupid he is like get his ass lmfao?#‘andruysha you are too careless you need serious therapy and you are a fool’ tell him girl#tennis
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Season 3 Elias is so goddamn fucking funny to me I forgot what a rollercoaster he was during my first listen.
Like the s2 finale has Jurgen Leitner giving Jon the whole "monsters are real speech" and Jon's like "I need a cigarette. NO ONE get brutal pipe murdered while I'm gone" and Jurgen fails step 1 because Elias walks in and grabs Jon's point-and-click-adventure pipe he'd been carrying around and Brutal Pipe Murders. Which, of course, Jon walks back in on and is prime suspect #1 due to literally every single feature trait and word he's said in the entirety of s2.
So naturally s3 starts with Jon on the lam and Officer Tonner like "I'm gonna arrest him for brutal pipe murder" and I'M like "Shit. I hate this. Elias is going to SO easily pin it on Jon and get away with it."
EXCEPT Elias walks in and is like "hello Ms. Officer no Jon Archivist did not kill that man, also I won't tell you anything else, also this is what you sound like" while reciting all her childhood trauma and all her illegal activity that will get HER sent to jail for brutal murder of the non-pipe variety and now I'm like "....huh." He's also like "Jon didn't do it but you can kill him if you want maybe :)" Elias your alibi????
And then we come BACK with Jon storming Elias's office with his two lesbian bodyguards as back up and he's like "I'm gonna use my powers to make you confess to pipe murder!" At which point Elias is like "It doesn't work on me. But I'm having fun so Martin go get everyone I need to tell you all how I committed pipe murder." and Martin does and Elias is like "Yes I pipe murdered. I also killed Gertrude. I love murder. You will not be compensated extra for this time. Get back to work." And they... DO... just go back to work. Because work is haunted. One of the lesbian police officers works here now, too. This just happened. "Also living dolls from Russia are about to Apocalypse the world, Jon go stop it," Elias says, while also saying "no I'm not gonna tell you how to stop it."
Okay???? Mr. Elias man??? And you're like "maybe he's a ruthless tactician? Maybe he's brutal but it's all in the interest of stopping the doll apocalypse??? He wants to save the earth???" Except THAT'S not even true it's actually more like he's trying to get the Russian dolls kicked out of line at Disney World so HE gets to meet Mickey Mouse first by which I mean, start his OWN Apocalypse, because if the dolls do it first well then what's the point of apocalypsing a planet that's become someone else's sloppy seconds.
Anyway Elias's master strategy here is to bring the human equivalent of a drowned cat to the gun fight and just sit back and watch Jon fall down every set of stairs he finds while Elias goes "This is good. This will work." His name isn't even fucking Elias.
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My favorite thing about Kim dokja is his blatant favoritism.
dokja is ride or die for people he likes and ruthless or cold to the people he doesn’t. He would doom the world for YJH and go to hell and back for SYS but could barely bring himself to care about that poor Russian girl and offed KNW in the first five minutes because he just, didn’t like them LOL.
#orv#kim dokja#yoo joonghyuk#omniscient reader's viewpoint#joongdok#orv kdj#omniscient reader#idk people sometimes make it seem like the man’s a saint when he’s really really not#cactus posts
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Could you please do a platonic yandere Vladimir Makarov with teenage daughter reader? Where he finds out that he has a daughter and is watching her but after awhile he decided to kidnap her to keep her safe from anyone and anything.?
Cw: DARKFIC, protective dad, kidnapping, spoiling, isolation, platonic yandere, tell me if I missed any.
He hadn’t expected his drunken one night stand to come back to him seventeen years later, at the peak of his revolution and power in the world. It had left his mind by the end of the week, where he spent a night with a pretty woman that he’d approached in the joy and mirth of winning a seat in the political image of Russia, his seat secured and power promised. He was - felt - unstoppable at that point.
Then he learned he had a daughter, a sweet girl that looked like a perfect mix of him and your mother. Thrust into the beginning of your adulthood and the closing chapter of your childhood, you had grown so prettily, adorable and loving. You were perfect in his eyes. Receiving the love of a mother, being pampered by her with the little amount of money she could scrounge to send you to school and provide for you. She truly cared for you despite being a mistake, a regret that reminded her of their coupling years ago.
While he believed in receiving motherly affection, he didn’t like the way you lived. So poor and hungry, denied the riches and luxury of his name and money. He wouldn’t have you live like that. So he took you, flew down to your quaint home, dressed finely and followed by his entourage while he stared down your mother, waiting for you to come back home from school. He’d forgotten her name - your mother - but all that mattered was you. He knew your name, your hobbies and preferences, but he’d like to hear them from you, to know you by your own words and acts rather than the video surveillance and all the digging he had his men do.
And when he saw you in person, standing anxiously before him, you looked much more beautiful before him than through his screen. He saw the apprehension in your eyes, the small frown that pinched as you fussed about your mother’s fearful expression, using yourself to protect her from him and his men, ignoring her pleas for you to stand behind her, to let her protect you. But you were fiercely protective and loyal, something he expected from his daughter, yet was still surprised by the depth of it, blindly loyal and faithfully protective to a fault.
“This…” she didn’t know how to explain this situation, he could see it as plainly as the blackness of his suit, “He’s your father, sweetheart.”
Your face broke between pain, shock and disbelief, but none directed at her, only to him whom you glared so powerfully. You were still so determined to protect your mother, knowing that she hid him from you and had never tried to reach out to him —not that he could blame her, he wasn’t a merciful man, neither easily reachable, nor easy to face.
He gave you his name and smiled, pulling the sweetest grin he could, seeming soft and tender for a ruthless man like him. All for his daughter, the gem that would inherit his empire. Ever so polite, you muttered your name, voice slightly shaky. You took after your mother, taking her last name rather than his, one that screamed power and danger, but he’d have it changed, no daughter of his wouldn’t be given the name Makarov.
He was satisfied with this, and with little need to stay here any longer, he stood and approached you, his hand calling yours to have you accompany him home. He would have you brought home, where you rightfully belonged. On a throne by his side, dressed in the best silk and fabric his money could gift you, given the best education and taught by the best academic in both English and Russian, and if possible, you’d be taught other arts: literature, ballet, piano, theatre and language.
But he was… somewhat disappointed that you shook your head, declining his invitation to come willingly. He understood that you’d have to start over again, uprooted and starting anew in a strange world without your mother. Truly, he knew how that felt, but he’d grown, he became better and wanted the same for you: to be better and deserve better.
“Mom!” your cries and scream hurt him, the sound chiseling at his heart, fighting him to return o your mother’s side.
His men held your mother back, careful not to harm her as per his words, he didn’t need her health jeopardised. He had plans of paying her for caring for you, giving her a monthly cheque to support herself, eternally grateful that she sacrifice everything for you. You were now under his care, protected under his watchful eyes and international spread of allies and influence.
“Don’t cry, милая,” he cradled you, seated on his lap as he wiped away your tears, his hushed but steady voice trying to soothe you, “We’re going home.”[darling]
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce
#x reader#cod mw2#cod mw2 x reader#platonic yandere#platonic relationships#mw3 makarov#makarov#cod makarov#call of duty makarov#vladimir makarov#makarov x reader#vladimir makarov x reader#tw: dark content#dark content#dead dove do not eat#tw: kidnapping#Daughter!reader
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LOVE IS A RUTHLESS GAME
summary — it’s been months since natasha’s submitted to her wife, but that’s about to change. you’re lucky enough to watch the entire scene unfold
warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, the chaotic duo of lucky and fanny, sub!nat, sub!reader, face slapping, pussy slapping, edging, cockwarming, face sitting, nipple stimulation, degradation, praise, dildo riding, dom/sub dynamics, teasing, begging, delayed orgasm, orgasm control, mentions of exhibitionism, oral, bondage, finger sucking, cum eating, threesome, aftercare, men/minors dni
authors note — we’re not even going to address the fact that this was meant to be an entirely separate fic and that now i have to write a part two because it got too long to add any more. this is literal filth, but there are some cute/goofy moments + mean wanda
♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ・ mommy maximoff ✧
It was bound to be a great day when Natasha got a phone call from Yelena asking if she could watch Fanny and Lucky for a couple of hours; some work conflict having come up on short notice and Kate was already out of town. Those couple of hours had turned into an overnight arrangement rather quickly, but you were just happy that Natasha agreed to keep both dogs for the night and hadn’t sent the excitable pups back through the door they came in at when Yelena dropped the bombshell.
Wanda was less than pleased to have not one but two dogs running around her perfectly kept house, and had turned her glare on Natasha multiple times because of it. It turns out that Kate and Yelena let the pups run wild, furniture wasn’t off limits and wiping their paws at the door was entirely foreign. You had looked at Wanda in sheer amusement when she’d tried to get the two tail-wagging pups to understand the concept of drying their paws before stepping onto her hardwood floors. They’d merely shook their coats and trotted past her, muddy paw prints adorning the couch seconds later. It was safe to say that Natasha was beyond the point of simply being in trouble with the Sokovian. The Russian had been tiptoeing around for hours, her eyes filled with unbudgeable worry as she scouted each room for Wanda’s presence before even considering entering fully.
When Natasha appeared again, hair tied up in a bun and blue light glasses slipping down the slope of her nose, that same gleam of hesitance brimmed in her calculated green eyes. You were curled up on the couch, Fanny’s head on one thigh while Lucky’s head rested on the other. Your eyes were staring straight ahead at the television screen, an old movie you hadn’t seen in ages holding your attention, but the dogs had decided that giving Wanda grief since their arrival had officially tired them out. Lucky snored, you found out rather quickly. Fanny was quiet, but your heart ached when she whined every so often and the little paws folded beneath her shaggy belly twitched and jerked like she was trying to run. You didn’t know much about dogs, had never had much interest in having one of your own, but you could appreciate their warm comfort. The Sokovian that was being searched for had gone out back an hour ago, a book in her hands that was already half finished but rather lengthy. As she’d passed you on her way out, careful not to let the dogs out with her, she’d told you she wouldn’t mind an interruption if you wanted to join her, but Natasha had pointedly been left out of that invitation.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” Natasha asked cautiously, fixing the black framed glasses so they sat on the top of her head, no longer needing them for the work assignments she left behind in her office. There was never any shortage of work to be done, never any space between deadlines and start-ups, but the women found a balance easily, something you admired as more than just their girlfriend. They were never CEO’s first. They were wives, girlfriends, sisters, friends, people. Pursuing a career in computer science has shown you the harsher sides of corporate companies and the intricacies that running a successful business entails. You’d shaken hands with too many sour old men that devoted their lives to the office and were somehow surprised when their wives left them. Wanda and Natasha would never understand how easy they made it look, and how inspiring they are, being successful women in positions of power.
“My girlfriend, is she?” You quirked a single eyebrow, an expression you had more or less adopted as your own since the start of the summer. Seeing you wear an expression that Wanda practically owned never failed to make Natasha weak in the knees. “Getting a divorce that I don’t know about?”
“After tonight? We might be.” Although Natasha was merely teasing, playing into the game that you had set up, you frowned at the genuine concern in her simple words. Yelena had put her in between a rock and a hard place, even if it wasn’t entirely intentional. She had definitely left out the part about needing someone to watch the dogs overnight on purpose, but Wanda’s reaction to the news wasn’t her fault. Natasha always checked base with Wanda before she agreed to anything that involved more than just herself, Yelena had no reason to assume anything different of today, but in the chaos of receiving the phone call only minutes before a virtual conference, it had fallen away from Natasha’s mind until the doorbell rang.
You smiled sympathetically at Natasha, wanting to kiss the creased skin between her eyebrows until it was smooth and soft with ease, but you were effectively nap-trapped by the Golden Retriever and Akita who you didn’t really want waking up anytime soon. They’d finally calmed down, there was silence over the house again, and disturbing the peace felt like initiating a war. “Wanda will get over it.”
“Wanda hates dogs.” Natasha rolled her eyes like that was the most obvious answer ever, which it was, you knew extremely well how passionate Wanda was about not liking or wanting a dog, but she didn’t hate dogs enough to completely walk away from Natasha. You sighed, deciding that disturbing the nap the two pups were taking on you was less important than resolving the rising issue between your girlfriends.
Fanny yelped when you shrugged her head off of your thigh, but Lucky remained quiet and merely resettled into the cushions that were warm from where your weight had sat. You grabbed Natasha’s hand without any explanation, not that you needed one, but still she let you guide her through the house without questioning where you were leading her. Her expression grimmed when she spotted Wanda lounged beside the pool, a recently published law book in her hands that was nearly finished as she turned yet another page getting closer to the official end. You didn’t spare the time to admire how fast she read, merely slipped through the sliding glass door and dragged Natasha along with you.
The door was closed quickly, because although Lucky and Fanny were seemingly content on the couch for the time being, probably missing their Moms as the hours rolled by and the heavy sun became lighter with dusk, you didn’t fancy taking the risk of them wandering outside to find where you’d gone.
Wanda peered over the edge of her book, sunglasses that were no longer needed now that the unforgiving sunlight had become crisp with wisps of orange, perched on the top of her head in the same fashion as Natasha’s. They were eerily similar, always so in tune with the other even when the tide got choppy. There was no question about how or why they worked so well together, they just did.
“Please tell your wife that you’re not going to divorce her.” You deadpanned, not even sparing Natasha a glance as you firmly addressed Wanda, who raised both eyebrows in question at your demand. Wanda’s eyes, sparkling beneath the sun, looked between you and Natasha with something unreadable deep beneath them. “She’s being unreasonable. That’s my job.” You pushed further, sensing that Wanda’s silence was around for the long haul if you didn’t make the severity of the situation known. Natasha was uncharacteristically not herself in the moment, and you despised every second of it.
Wanda sighed, allowing her hands to relinquish the grip she had on her book. It fell onto her thighs that were warm from constant sunlight, the only shadow thrown over her illuminating body. “Natalia, don’t be dense.” She rolled her eyes, accent strong as the day she’d learned how to say her first sentence. The air was thin around the three of you, Natasha’s grip on your hand tight and unnerving. This was not the way Wanda addressed things, for a second you stopped to consider that maybe Natasha had a point to be so concerned, but that fell away when a whimper so soft it sounded like another tale that the wind tried to tell reached your ears.
Wanda wasn’t annoyed. No, that is absolutely not what was going on. You’d thought she was, had every reason to believe that she was, until a ghost of a smirk splayed across her lips tinted pink from how many strawberries she’d eaten beside the pool. Their dynamic had been only a whispered thing, soft stories and recounts of the nights where Natasha gave herself over to Wanda, but in the almost year that you’d been present in their home and in their lives, you’d never seen it play out. You had no reason to when you were merely around to be a release for Natasha, but now you were their girlfriends, and it dawned on you harsher than the unforgiving sun that it had been months since Natasha relinquished control. This wasn’t about her being paranoid, this was about her wanting to be reprimanded, wanting to let Wanda take over.
Wanda stood from the lounge chair, bowl of strawberries and her book the only things that said she was ever laid out at all. She was close enough to smell when her feet stopped carrying her forward, and you noted that she must’ve gotten a new perfume because there was something reminiscent of grapefruit lingering around her. You held your breath when Wanda’s palm connected with Natasha’s cheek, the slap sounding harsher than it was. You’d grown familiar with loud echoes after soft slaps, your ass had been discolored by them too many times. There was nothing that could’ve warned you about the harsh treatment, but Natasha didn’t waver behind you. Her knees didn’t fold like yours would have and her shoulders never shook like she feared the next hit. Slapping was a hard limit for you, but Natasha merely sighed at the contact of Wanda’s palm hitting cheek.
“It’s been a while since I’ve played with you, hasn’t it, kroshechnyy tantsor?” Wanda cooed, a glint of danger breaching her eyes. This was not how she handled you. You’d seen her be harsh, cruel even, but she looked downright mean as the sun glimmered against every inch of available skin that already held a lingering tan. Natasha was allured by the look in her wife’s eyes, and you noticed that she hadn’t yet spoken at your side.
“Is that what you want? You want me to play with you, milaya? Want our little duckling to know what a slut her Daddy is?” Wanda pressed further, edging Natasha right into a state that was only able to be categorized as submissive. You could hear the stories of their dynamic a million times a day, but nothing would have ever prepared you for the sight of it to be unfolding right in front of you; unfiltered and perfectly easy. “You can speak, milaya. Tell me what you want.”
“Please, Wanda.” There it was, the first utterance of Natasha’s gravely voice in the minutes that it had been since you dragged her outside. It was light, airy even, softer than a million seeds falling from the pappus of a dandelion.
“Detka,” Wanda looked toward you, her eyes so much softer than they had been as she peered into Natasha’s soul and dared her to push back. You hummed, inclining your head to the side in an expression that radiated innocence and submission. Even if she wasn’t playing with you, Wanda was still your dominant, you still felt she deserved to be shown respect as she floated nearer and nearer to one of her favorite headspaces. You adored every shade of green that lived within the Sokovian’s eyes, but there was something so captivating about the shade of Juniper that attempted to drown her pupils when she let herself hold all control. “I am not going to be soft with Natalia. You are welcome to join us in the bedroom, but if it gets too much for you, I expect you to leave. Do not stay because you think you’ll be able to handle it.”
Your brain was a mess of spiraling thoughts, wondering the state that Natasha would be left in when Wanda was through with her, and the extent of which they played at all. There were so many unanswered questions that you hadn’t been at liberty to ask before, but now you had every right to know what turned your girlfriends on, and there was no way you’d be missing out on whatever the scene had to offer. Despite the heavy gears turning in your head that were effectively dampening your panties, you managed to nod your head albeit hesitantly and jerkily. “Okay.” You breathed out, earning a smile from the Sokovian and a tight squeeze of your hand from the Russian. “Are you okay with me watching?” You turned the question on Natasha, assuming that considering Wanda was the one who had extended the invitation she wasn’t opposed to your presence in the room as she unraveled all the tight knots Natasha had been putting into place.
“Oh honey.” Wanda preened with an edge to her tone that had Natasha whining at your side, “Natalia is quite the fan of having an audience. My little slut thinks it’s quite the turn on to be the main attraction. Isn’t that right, shlyukha?”
Natasha nodded quickly, her eyes clouded with lust and desperation that wasn’t unusual, but had never been so translucent. You wondered if you looked the same when Wanda had you beneath her thumb, pliant and eager to be ruined, but now was not the time for daydreams about your own submissive nature.
“Oh.” A whispered response fell off of your tongue as your cheeks became hot with the presence of a blush that was a result of anything but embarrassment. Your stomach tightened at the information, imagining what scenarios had led to that discovery and how intensely they’d played into it. Natasha was not shy. She had no reason to be with her perfectly smooth and silky skin and tits that could win awards if there was ever such a competition to judge. She was breathtaking, you knew it and she knew it, but you’d never expected to hear that she was into exhibition. A sense of pride flooded your system when you could pinpoint the appropriate term on the tip of your tongue, Wanda’s mini lectures paying off.
“Mmm.” Wanda hummed, a smirk on her lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she practically undressed Natasha. The woman was barely upright anymore, her knees weak as she readjusted her stance time and time again, and you weren’t oblivious to the way her thighs pressed together trying to relieve the ache in her core. If Wanda noticed, which she did, nothing was said about the vain attempts. “Detka, be a dear and help Natalia into the bedroom will you? I want her in a single-column tie before I get up there.”
Natasha groaned beside you, her head as heavy as a ragdolls as it lulled back and faced the dwindling sunshine like a lonely sunflower would. The train of spiraling thoughts that had been running circles around your brain came to a halting stop at the request, a tinge of pink rising across your neck as you fumbled with your intertwined fingers, not even remember when you had dropped Natasha’s hand, or maybe she had been the one to drop yours, “I don’t– What is that?”
Wanda, patient as always, merely smiled and inclined her head toward Natasha, an expectant hardness lingering within her sage stare that was darkening by the minute in tune with the depleting sunlight across the sky. It wasn’t cold by any means, still in the warmer months of summertime, but the air around you felt frigid either way. The only thing that could bring warmth back to your body was the touch of your girlfriends. “Natalia will show you. Won’t you, malen'kaya shlyushka. You’ll show our duckling how you like to be restrained to the headboard?”
“Yebat.” Natasha whimpered, her eyes flickering toward you, filled with desperate longing that didn’t seem to be Wanda’s main concern at the moment. You gnawed at your bottom lip, your eyes hooded and dark, twinged with lust that was steadily growing. “Yes.” Natasha exhaled, eyes flickering back up to meet Wanda’s when the lawyer shifted her stance and inclined her head expectantly.
“Good girl.” Wanda’s praise was curt and dismissive, not filled with warmth and satisfaction that you had grown so used to in recent months. You found yourself frowning, because even if the praise hadn’t been intended for you, you still hung onto her every word. Wanda, ever observant, didn’t fight the fond expression that slipped across her features as she turned her sharp gaze to you. “You’re a good girl too, moya utenok. Now go help Natalia. I’ll make sure the ties are okay, Natty won’t get hurt. I just want you to try your best. Okay?” Despite not recognizing the anxiousness that settled in your belly amidst the desperation that brewed simultaneously, the proposition of being the one to restrain Natasha had worried you, but your shoulders relaxed at Wanda’s assurance that your attempt wouldn’t be the final verdict if she found anything less than perfect with the knots you bound her wife with. You nodded, a whispered response filling the air that separated your body from the Sokovians.
Natasha grabbed your hand, whether it was to steady herself or to ground you, you weren’t entirely sure, but you laced your fingers together and set your course back toward the house where Fanny and Lucky were waiting at the sliding glass door. You’d forgotten about the four legged pups since coming outside, but their hot panting that dirtied the glass implied that they hadn’t forgotten about you. You didn’t try to keep them inside as you slipped in, figuring that keeping them away from the breakable indoors while the three of you were otherwise occupied was the best plan of action if you were going to save Wanda a heart attack.
“Natalia!” Wanda’s voice was precisely projected as it reached both yours and Natasha’s ears, the thickness of her accent wearing slightly as she forced the words through her diaphragm carefully. It was still a wonder how many years the lawyer had spent in the United States, but it had been enough to ease the traces of home out of her tone naturally. “YA khochu, chtoby utenok byl na rozovom remeshke, kogda ya priyedu tuda.”
Natasha’s breath stuttered in her chest, and though you were picking up on the simple terms of endearment that they uttered to you routinely, you understood nothing of the sentence that had been just loud enough to settle through the space you occupied. Natasha did however, and when she closed the sliding glass door and guided you deeper into the house, she whispered shortly against the shell of your ear, “Wanda’s trying to kill you.”
You paled slightly at the confirmation that whatever Wanda had requested, had been in regards to you. Unable to predict what the lawyer could have wanted, you didn’t think to ask, not wanting any distractions that would interfere with the ropes you were instructed to bind. The bedroom was saturated in darkness when you entered through the door, curtains drawn and lights switched off. The only sounds that suggested the room was occupied came from yours and Natasha’s footsteps, but even they were softer than usual. The energy that Wanda possessed had taken its toll, and both of your bodies were eager for sensations that only the Sokovian had the authority to grant.
Natasha reached for the light switch, drenching the room with artificial brightness that tore shades of cream from the pillowcases adorning the bed. Traces of you lingered across every expanse of space, the room no longer just theirs but yours. Yours to share gentle kisses concealed by darkness in. Yours to sing and dance in when rain pelted the widows and work had been forgotten. Yours to share these intimate moments. Yours. Just yours.
Natasha tilted her head toward the closet, a space you had grown familiar with for more than just the necessity of needing an outfit in the morning. Your hands reached for the black case that you knew held instruments and toys for a scene like this, but you were stopped before your fingers could ghost against the smooth material. Instead, the Russian reached toward a shelf above the racks of suits and dresses, grabbing a red leather briefcase bound securely by a silver combination lock. Natasha placed it on one of the lesser occupied shelves, her fingers working at the black engraved digits with a practiced ease.
Despite the submission that you had seen from Natasha minutes prior, she looked down at you with dominance that was familiar and welcomed. Her voice was stern as she spoke to you quietly, not even sparing a glance at the lock that she continued to work open. “We don’t want you in this case unless we tell you. What’s in here is not for you to be playing around with. The combination is our birthdays, I trust that you won’t go snooping around where you don’t belong without permission.”
“Okay.” You whispered a response, finding that you were practically incapable of speaking at any other volume, entirely consumed with the weight of their presence and not wanting to disturb it. “Natty?” You peered up at your dominant, knowing that tonight was about her but unable to clear the lingering bliss in your head as you looked at her with nothing but sheer admiration.
“Yes, dorogaya?” Natasha smiled at you softly, her hand reaching to cup your cheek though the tips of her fingers were chilled slightly from the metal she’d been grasping at. You didn’t shy away, leaning into her touch as she let herself be consumed with only you, not the promise of being tied to the bed and fucked into oblivion. “You still okay with watching? Neither of us are going to be upset if you need to leave. Wanda and I don’t have the same rules as we do with you.”
You shook your head adamantly, wanting her to understand that their hot and heavy dynamic was not the cause of your soft question. “I’m okay. Just wanted to say I love you.”
Natasha smiled, kissing you softly in the dimly lit closet. The only light that penetrated the space came from the bedroom, but you didn’t need additional light to see the affection in her eyes. “I love you too.” She murmured against your lips, but as quickly as your sacred moment had come, it fell away and your attention was on the case that Natasha pulled open with eager fingers.
The case, although small, held toys and items that made your eyes bulge and your belly quiver. A collection of knives wrapped pristinely in thick black leather occupied a small fraction of the briefcase, beside it three half melted candles with wicks the color of coal. A pink dildo with a suction cup attachment at the base caught your attention, wondering why it had been displaced from the rest of the dildo’s and strap-ons that the slavic women owned. You didn’t recognize anything else in the case; a bundle of rope that you assumed would be used to restrain Natasha, multiple thin link chain attachments, and an instrument that almost resembled a pizza cutter but the blade was prickled with sharp nubs that looked rather dull. Your eyes searched for Natasha’s, but she was busy rummaging through the case for something unspoken about. Your breathing shuddered when she collected a small bottle of lube in her hands, passing it over to you with a wink.
She grabbed the dildo and the rope next, closing the case just as quickly as she had opened it although the seconds it took her to find the objects she wanted felt like agonizing minutes. Her eyes, submissive and hazy, found yours in the dimly light brightness of the closer, a soft incline of her head pointing in the direction of the bedroom. “Come on.” You nodded jerkily, following her back into the master bedroom where Wanda’s presence still lacked to be.
Natasha didn’t head for the bed like you’d been expecting, she headed for the single chair in the corner of the room that had never seen an ounce of attention from the women who preferred to hang around in the living room where sunlight bled in at every angle. You gasped when she stuck the dildo to the seat of the chair, almost a grimace in her face when she turned to look back at you. Although she proceeded to explain what Wanda expected of you, there was no need for an explanation. The bottle of lube in your hands wasn’t for her, it was for you. Another rush of excitement sparked in your belly like connecting live wires, and you barely concealed your whine when Natasha began to strip out of her clothes, leaving them in pristine piles on the nightstand. The lace panties were the last to leave her body, deep red and thin as they slipped down her legs and pooled at her feet with glistening wetness visible across the center. You swallowed thickly, eyes caught on the sight of her core that, although mostly concealed by thighs that you wanted around your head, glimmered distinctly beneath the overhead light.
Your eyes trailed upward, drinking in the sight of her tensing abs that had only been so prominent last summer; the summer you arranged to be her submissive. Natasha found it easier to work out in the summer, when the weather was inviting and the workload lulled. Her hours spent in the home gym hadn’t been in vain, and the ripples in her muscles held your attention for longer then they should have. You didn’t want to pull your eyes away from her chest, where the sienna color of her breasts became rosy at her nipples that were pebbled and eager for stimulation. Another shuddering breath slipped into the space, but as easily as you’d lost your composure Natasaha was strapping you back into it and handing you the rope.
She laid starfish on the bed, her swollen and glistening core fully in sight as her thighs spread to allow access to whoever pleased to touch her first. Wanda had said nothing about binding her legs, and the almost silky rose in your hands wouldn’t reach to tether them down. Natasha, head thrown back against the pillows and red curls spilling across them, looked at you expectantly with intense green eyes. Never had this much control been placed on your shoulders, but you wouldn’t disappoint either one of them. Your thighs straddled Natasha’s waist, your chest falling in front of her face as she raised her arms and instructed you through the process of restraining her the way both she and Wanda liked. A whimper fell from your lips when Natasha leaned forward to mouth at your nipple through the thin t-shirt you wore, her hips grinding upwards and forcing sensations of pleasure through your core. You faltered on top of her, panting for breath as you tried to keep your attention on the ties you were making across her wrists, though it proved difficult when her teeth settled firmly around your nipple and tugged.
“N-Nat.” You whined, hips rocking with their own intention as you dropped your hands to the pillows and let yourself enjoy a single moment of the pleasure she was provoking. Your clit throbbed, your panties are drenched and clinging to your core. You were certain that if Wanda chose this moment to come up the stairs, the sight of you would be painfully erotic. Natasha fully naked, you fully clothed, hips grinding and thrusting and broken moans of pleasure echoing off otherwise silent walls. She could destroy you even beneath you and partially immobile, you were no longer blind to that fact. “S-Stop.” As much as you didn’t want her to, you weren’t sent upstairs to give pleasure and earn pleasure, and the thought of Wanda having a reason to punish the both of you was not a fire you wanted to start at the moment.
Natasha did stop, but she hummed in disappointment as her head fell back against the pillows, framed by your wrists and hands that still braced the majority of your weight. The knots around her wrists were as good as you would be able to get them without any further instruction, but you had no idea if they were good enough for Wanda’s standards. You didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on the potential failure, able to hear the door sliding against the track and the softness of Wanda’s voice as she told Fanny and Lucky to stay.
“Do they feel okay?” You checked in softly, peering down between your arms to assure that her face gave no indication of discomfort. The Russian didn’t respond, instead pulling at her arms and humming something that was inaudible with her teeth grinded together and lips pursed tight. “Nat, I need you to tell me if they feel okay.” There was panic in your voice that pulled Natasha back into the moment, eyes searching yours before she realized that the soft sounds Wanda made as her feet braced the hardwood were growing closer and closer. Her footsteps weren’t yet on the stairs that led to the room you occupied, but close enough to remind you both of how you weren’t in the positions she’d requested.
“They’re perfect, detka.” Natasha smiled encouragingly, bucking her hips beneath you once more, though this time the action was a reminder to shuffle off of her and settle yourself on the fuschia toy that was admittedly an eyesore within the neutral toned room. Your clothes came off in sloppy movements, not folded neatly like Natasha’s as they piled onto the floor and became wrinkled. The bottle of lube was unneeded with the thick ropes of arousal that clung to your inner thighs, a whine ripping from the back of your throat as you eased yourself onto the toy but forced your hips to remain still, not having Wanda’s permission to ride it just yet. You felt exceedingly full, each groove amongst the shaft pushing against the sensitive interior of your tight channel. Your eyes fluttered closed when you sucked in a breath, jostling your body just enough to earn a sweet sensation of pleasure within your velvet walls. Your eyes had been closed when Wanda entered, but they snapped open at the sound of Natasha mewling on the bed.
When your eyes found the Sokovian, she was leaning overtop of Natasha, both knees digging into the mattress beneath her though it barely sunk with her additional weight. Her fingers were adored with glimmering rings like they always were, though now they threaded into the intricate knots you had made with the beige colored rope and pulled tightly. She hummed her satisfaction when she found nothing wrong with the structure of the ties, juniper eyes searching for yours as she smiled proudly.
“Good job, little duckling.” She praised sweetly, though the words dripped with danger as she possessed that same glint of passion in her eyes that had appeared beneath the sunset. “I didn’t know my sweet girl would be so skilled at tying her Daddy up.” Your core pulsed around the toy in your core, wetness seeping into the smooth faux leather beneath you. A whimper fell off your lips before you could keep it in, and Wanda’s lips twinged into a smile of fake sympathy. “I bet that pussy’s so full, malyshka. Why don’t you tell Natalia how good you feel, this poor little pussys aching for the same treatment. Isn’t that right, slut?” You gaped at the resounding slap that echoed off Wanda’s palm as she let her hand fall across the Russian’s hot cunt, wetness glistening beneath the light as the Sokovian pulled her hand back to inspect, toying with the arousal that remained on the expanse of her tinted pink skin. “So wet. Did you enjoy having your little girl tie you up, Natalia?”
Natasha moaned desperately, her hips chasing after Wanda’s hand that wasn’t willing to repeat the former action. Her head bobbed against the pillows, curls becoming frizzy and wild from the frantic nod that became the only answer she provided. Wanda, seemingly satisfied with Natasha’s chosen silence, turned her gaze back to you, the demand to share your experience heavy in the silence.
Your cheeks, pink and flush, became hotter at the premise of vocalizing the sensations that were admittedly dull with lack of any major movement. “You’ll learn very quickly that I do not ask twice, milaya. Use your words before you earn the same rules as Natalia.” You didn’t know Natasha’s rules, they’d never been discussed, but her silence was enough to guess that she wasn’t allowed to speak without permission.
“It feels g-good. I feel so full, N-Nat.” You cried out, hips twitching for movement that you wouldn’t allow. However short your explanation was, Wanda seemed pleased as she turned her attention to Natasha, who up until this point, had received the bare minimum.
Wanda’s fingers sought out Natasha’s nipples, and although yours remained untouched and entirely fine, you winced at the force behind her synchronous tugs. Natasha’s back arched off the bed and into Wanda’s hands, either an attempt to seek more or to lessen the sting entirely. The wanton moans that fell past her lips like a symphony were indicative of the pleasure the action had provided, and although her legs weren’t bound, you didn’t miss the twitch of her muscles as she strained to remain still.
Your core pleaded for more, walls fluttering around the intrusion of the toy that you hadn’t quite gotten used to yet. The stretch felt intimidating, and so eagerly you wanted to bring your hips upward only to sink back down and accept the presence again. Your nails dug into the arms of the chair, knuckles white from the strength of your grip. Across the room, Wanda was tongue deep in Natasha’s mouth, the only sounds that existed around them being the wet smacks of lips losing suction and gasped breaths. Natasha, with her hands bound, fought against the restraints trying to reach out and touch Wanda, but her efforts failed each time she pulled, the knots unwilling to loosen enough for her hands to slip through. Wanda pulled away with a pleased hum, her fingers back at Natasha’s nipples as she twisted them harshly in tune with the other.
“Please.” Natasha cried out, writhing on the bed as her legs closed tightly, slick thighs rubbing together in an attempt to bring even an ounce of pleasure over her desperate body. Wanda wasn’t pleased by her efforts, hearing the slap land on Natasha’s cheek before you could process seeing it. Wanda was quick, efficient and cruel, but Natasha wasn’t backing down. The lawyer wriggled and thrashed on the bed, a symphony of Russian falling off her tongue as she kept her eyes wide and on Wanda.
“Do not make me remind you of the rules, Natalia.” Wanda growled lowly, her voice thick with traces of an accent that suited her well, but only worsened your fate as you tried not to let your restraint crumble, wanting desperately to be good for her. You whined on the chair in the corner of the room, unable to stop yourself as you watched Wanda strike Natasha a third time, the Russian a moaning mess beneath the Sokovian as her cheek took on the faintest handprint of pink. “Is there something you need, moya utenok?”
“C-Can I– Please–” Your desperation had finally won over, and even without Wanda’s permission your hips grinded and thrashed against the leather beneath your thighs, guiding the dildo into that perfectly spongy part of your walls with ease. The sounds of your arousal were embarrassingly loud in the otherwise quiet room, and you could feel Natasha’s eyes on you as she laid stiff and still beneath Wanda. “Please?”
Wanda hummed thoughtfully, but when she spoke, your blood ran cold with dread and shame. “It seems neither of you need my permission anymore.” She gave you a pointed glare, and your hips stuttered to a stop, no longer searching for pleasure as you shrunk beneath her glare. “Is that what you’d like, moya utenok? For Mommy to let you do whatever you please?”
Frantically you shook your head, eyes wide and brimming with tears that had no reason to fall but gathered against your waterline anyway. You hated the mere idea of that ever happening, and you were in no mood to test the truth behind her implication. “No! No Mommy!” You pleaded with her, aware of how pitiful and distressed you sounded as your cries shattered the silence. Natasha, though still beneath the fog that had gathered at the forefront of her mind in the face of Wanda’s brutal ministrations, nudged her knee upward, shaking her head at Wanda when the attention fell back down to her.
When Wanda’s eyes returned to you, they were softer, greener, filled with a gentle affection that had been impossible to find second earlier. “Do you want to ride the dildo, moya lyubov’?” Her voice was softer, kinder, taking on the tone she’d always devoted to you alone. It was a complete turn around from how she’d been addressing Natasha, but the presence of her accent hadn’t wavered.
“Please Mommy!” You cried out, unsure of how many minutes you’d been impaled by the thick toy, but enough for the sun to have completely settled beneath the moon and taken its warmth with it. The window was open beyond the pulled curtains, a lingering breeze sweeping past your naked skin before it fell short of the bed where Wanda and Natasha remained entangled. The Sokovian’s hands were braced on the Russian’s abdomen, thighs around her waist squeezing tightly and restricting movement.
“Go ahead, dorogaya. Let me hear those pretty sounds whilst I see how many edges my little slut can handle before she’s begging for mercy.” Wanda smiled eerily sweetly, casting her eyes back down to Natasha who was flush with arousal and the beginning of a grimace. “How many was it last time, hm? Ten?”
“Eleven.” Natasha corrected, her eyes wide and pleading as she maintained eye contact with Wanda, her fingers twitching as she remained bound to the headboard that you’d thought was going to snap with the might of her struggles. “Wands, I want–”
“I don’t care what you want, Natalia.” Wanda quipped before the rest of the sentence could ever exist outside of Natasha’s scrambled thoughts. The Russian nodded frantically, swallowing thickly in complete submission but even her reclaimed silence wasn’t enough to satisfy Wanda who pinched the skin of her thigh until she winced and moaned needily, entirely unmade and pliant to be shaped into something new; something a little bit like you. “What do I keep you around for?”
“To please you.” Natasha’s voice was breathy and soft, the willingness to fight that had begun to swarm within her eyes that tinted a shade similar to evergreen entirely dismantled, replaced by a desire to submit without hesitance.
“Dumb little sluts do not get to decide how I take my pleasure. Do not make me regret not gagging you.” Wanda scolded, and Natasha was eager to nod her head in understanding, whimpering into the near-silent room when her obedience was rewarded with a single finger circling her pebbled nipple.
Your hips grinded against the dildo buried deep within your pussy, guiding it across your slick walls near perfectly each time. Wanda’s eyes were transfixed on Natasha, but every few minutes she glanced back at you, and when she did, you could only whimper. In the minutes that it had taken to accomplish such a satisfying pace, Wanda had eased her mouth down to the spot where Natasha needed her most, tongue not daring to be kind as it circled and flicked at the throbbing bundle of nerves that had pleaded for attention since the start. Shattering moans and whispered pleas fell off of Natasha’s tongue, but each time the Russian grew too close to the edge, Wanda pulled away and her hand slapped harshly against Natasha’s cunt.
At the seventh edge, you’d never seen Natasha so beside herself. Pear shaped tears fell down her perfectly rosy cheeks and dampened the pillow cases when they eventually dripped off her unblemished skin and landed silently against the cotton covers. Her wrists had grown red from the relentless writhing and pulling, but her attention was solely on Wanda who offered no break. Three fingers worked the Russian open and scissored her wide, never fully pulling out before they slammed back into her at a pace so brutal it would be no surprise if she felt the aftermath for days. Your own orgasm was drawing closer as you watched Natasha submit and Wanda claim, and each snap of your hips only further invited it along.
The eight edge had Natasha wailing, throwing her head back as her hips jerked upward and chased after Wanda. Like every time before, the Sokovian voiced no sympathy, and her hand came down heavy and punishing against the swollen skin that adorned ropes of arousal. Natasha yearned for more, her face begged for Wanda to repeat the simple action of slapping her cunt, but just like the seven times that had come before, her unspoken request was denied.
“So pretty when you cry for me. Moya khoroshen'kaya malen'kaya shlyukha. Is that what you are? My pretty little whore?” Wanda teased cynically, juniper no longer a shade amongst the blackness of her eyes entirely dilated by lust adorned pupils. She looked entirely ravenous with her hair tousled and chin glimmering with Natasha’s arousal.
“Y-Yes.” Natasha cried out desperately, her voice scratchy now as it reached your ears. Your hips continued to stutter against the dildo, but without permission to cum, you forced away the growing tension that pulled at every muscle in your belly and begged for relief.
“Let me hear you say it.” Wanda pushed further, the tips of her fingers tracing the softest shapes into the slickness across Natasha’s inner thighs.
There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation that crossed Natasha’s face before she was desperately crying out, “I’m your pretty little whore! P-Please Wanda! Please!”
“So fucking desperate.” Wanda tutted, a single finger sweeping through Natasha’s folds, though she pointedly avoided the Russian clit that throbbed for even an ounce of attention. Wanda was off the bed in seconds, coming straight at you with her glistening finger outstretched. You didn’t need to ask what she wanted, leaning forward to accept the arousal soaked digit into your mouth with eyes as wide as saucers the second she was close enough.
Wanda hummed, pleased with your desperation, a fond smile pulling at her lips. “Good girl, malyshka.” She groaned at the feeling of your tongue sucking her fingers clean, your tongue lapping across the expanse of her knuckles as she pressed against your tongue, not hard enough to force you to gag, but enough to make your brain fill with static pleasure. You jumped when hot breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck, leaning into her despite your skin not yet touching. “I know you want to cum, sweet girl. You’ve been so good waiting for Mommy’s permission, I didn’t forget about you. You can cum whenever you want, but that’s it. You don’t need to keep up with Natalia.” Wanda whispered so softly against the shell of your ear you questioned if she was even real. The harshness that she had addressed you with before entirely dismantled. You leaned your forehead against her shoulder, panting as your hips hadn’t stilled on the toy saturated with your arousal. Although the dildo was suctioned to the chair, one of your hands forced it to remain at the perfect angle between your thighs, and each time you drove your hips against the toy, your clit caught on the knuckle of your thumb only spurring you further into a frenzied state as you chased the orgasm you were finally allowed to have.
Wanda’s touch was gone far too soon, but your eyes traced her steps as she retreated back to Natasha. The redhead was beside herself as she wiggled and squirmed, chest heaving breaths that weren’t quite full. Wanda didn’t hesitate to restart her efforts at working Natasha toward relief, though this time she was much less graceful. Her fingers provoked squelching sounds from the tight cunt they occupied, her arousal coated tongue flicked unforgivingly and quick. Natasha looked like the rawest depiction of beauty as she cried out and whined, desperate to tangle her fingers into Wanda’s hair but to no avail did she succeed.
It had taken you only minutes to reach a high that had your toes curling and your thighs trembling. Without the grip of either of your girlfriends steadying your hips as you came crashing through your orgasm, your body jerked and writhed for more and less simultaneously. A melodious whine fell off the tip of your tongue before it was overshadowed by a moan that had your lips vibrating at the reverberations. Every muscle in your body tensed before it became nothing but jelly, leaving you a heap of sweat and arousal on the chair suddenly feeling very naked and exposed before the rapidly cooling breeze that snuck in through the open window behind you. Natasha’s eyes were locked on you, her head turned toward the side as she took in the sight of your self-inflicted orgasm. In the year that you had been involved with the Russian, she’d never allowed such a thing. You’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to pleasure yourself in all the best ways, but that wasn’t really what happened anyways, you’d followed all of Wanda’s instructions, you’d waited for permission to fall over the edge, even without the touch of another, you’d never really been in control.
Your peace was shattered by a sharp and exceedingly needy while falling off of Natasha’s lips, her gaze snapping back toward where Wanda was perched between her thighs as another orasgam ended before it even started. You almost felt bad, almost. Although you weren’t even able to imagine the kind of torment that came with being edged in the same room as your girlfriend that had permission to cum whenever she wanted, Natasha wanted this. It was hard to feel sympathy for a woman who walked herself into a trap and had been the very one to close the door. A smile splayed across your lips when Wanda slapped her cunt, and you couldn’t help the giggle that came soon after when Natasha rattled off the long list of curses she knew in English. Your orgasm had brought a new sense of clarity over your once hazy mind, and now the actions that had seemed so cruel and ruthless, merely resembled affection and mutual trust. Natasha was a strong woman, but she was seemingly a slut in the same breath.
Wanda’s eyes met yours, glimmering with something sharp as a smirk replaced the permanent thin line that sat on her lips whenever Natasha was the focus of her attention. There was amusement clear in her eyes, something twisted lingering beneath the surface that you longed to know the reason for. “You find something funny, malyshka?”
Revived from the pliable state that you’d fallen beneath at the first instance of Wanda’s unfiltered dominance, your eyes lingering on Natasha’s face for barely a moment before you returned your gaze to Wanda and feigned perfect innocence. “Natty bit off more than she can chew.” You stated simply, aware of how you were betraying the woman that you yourself had bound to the bed, but more aware of the fact that Wanda seemed pleased with your admission.
“That she did.” Wanda hummed, her fingers toying with Natasha’s sopping entrance that begged for more, but she wasn’t willing to give in. “Come here, my little duckling.” Wanda inclined her head toward where she was perched between Natasha’s thighs, and although your legs felt like jelly beneath you, you didn’t hesitate to comply with the demand. Your breath stuttered when the dildo finally slipped out of your pussy, the veiny grooves rubbing against every hypersensitive inch of your walls. None of the other dildos had such prominent veins, and although it was admittedly one of the smaller toys you’d taken since beginning a relationship with Wanda especially, you felt painfully empty without it inside of you.
Your steps were wobbly and slow, reminiscent of Bambi if you remembered correctly, but Wanda was in no rush to have you at her side and so she waited with an encouraging smile on her arousal drenched lips. It was warmer beside the bed, that was the first thing you noticed when you’d finally reached where Wanda laid. The wind didn’t dip so far into the room that Natasha felt the chill cold, yet you wondered the response she’d have to being encased by the soft breeze. She was responsive as it is, a shift in temperature was certain to have her mewling for something that wasn’t allowed just yet.
“Since you find Natalia’s position so funny, detka, I want you to edge her while I ride her face.” Wanda smirked, and suddenly you weren’t finding Natasha’s position so funny anymore. Being allowed to eat either one of them out was the ultimate privilege, something you almost always had to beg for, but now it was being offered without bait, yet it came with a price that felt too steep to pay. Having to deny Natasha an orgasm sounded absolutely horrible. All you ever wanted to do was make her cum quickly and effectively. Wanda was aware of how eager you always seemed to be at the proposition of feeling either of their orgasms on your tongue, and either she’d forgotten that, or she didn’t care at all.
“But– Wanda!” You whined, desperately hoping that you’d change her mind, but you knew the reality of your situation; either you got on your knees and complied with her request, or she carried on doing it herself. No matter your decision, no matter if it was your tongue or hers, Natasha wasn’t seeing an orgasm until she’d surpassed her last record.
“Not so funny now is it, milaya?” Wanda grinned like the cheshire cat, and you properly felt like a scolded child beneath her wild stare. You shook your head adamantly at the question, a smile no longer ghosting across your bitten lips as you looked between her and Natasha’s pink and swollen cunt. It was properly abused, fucked out and dripping onto the sheets yet still begging for more of what she wasn’t yet allowed. “What’s your choice, utenok? My little sluts running out of patience.” Her word was true. Natasha looked ready to crumble at any minute, her eyes bouncing between you and Wanda with nothing but desperation in her heavy gaze.
“Do I have to edge her?” You whispered timidly, looking pleadingly up at the Sokovian. Wanda didn’t respond, merely quirked an expectant eyebrow down at you and shifted her position. You sighed, shoving her out of the way in a manner that was less than graceful, but thankfully it went unreprimanded.
“Good choice.” Wanda hummed, already standing beside the bed and stripping eagerly out of her clothes. Her skin was tinted with lingering traces of the sun, thin lines adorning her shoulders from where bathing suits had forbidden the kiss of daylight. She looked entirely ethereal as she shimmied out of her own black panties, letting them pool around her ankles for merely a moment before she kicked them away and took her place overtop of Natasha. Her thighs framed the Russian’s face, individual freckles adorning her shins and thighs begging to be kissed and fawned over, but no such thing would happen tonight. With a sharp request for Natasha to stick her tongue out, she sank herself lower and lower until her pussy made contact with the hot and ready muscle. “I’ll tell you what, moya lyubov’,” Wanda began, a cynical smirk on her lips as she grinded her hips against Natasha’s face, dampening the flush skin with her arousal. “if you can get Natalia close with only your fingers, I’ll allow her to cum when I do. If you can’t, we add four more edges.”
“B-But I want to taste her!” You cried out, looking at Wanda with wild eyes that begged her to fold, but she wouldn’t. This was the kindest she’d been all evening and yet it was still so painfully cruel.
“Well that’s a shame, sweetheart.” Wanda pouted, but her words were anything but sincere as she rocked against Natasha’s tongue and drug her clit against the textured surface, falling into bliss the longer she kept up with her ministrations.
You whined, settling on just using your fingers, not able to bring yourself to edge Natasha even further, or at all. Even if she was merely your girlfriend in this moment, all you ever wanted to do was cause pleasure, not be the one to take it away. Your fingers brushed through her folds gently, but Natasha still flinched away and tried to close her thighs. Your body between her legs forbade her from doing so, leaving her entrance easily accessible. You winced yourself, knowing that your fingers were frigid against her hot and worked up cunt, but you didn’t give her the chance to grow accustomed to the feeling. Wanda wasn’t slowing down, and you knew she’d be cruel enough to force you to stop if she were to cum before Natasha grew close. You set a brutal pace, not sparing pleasantries like you’d typically do. Your fingers curled against the softest spot of Natasha’s walls the way you knew she enjoyed, and you committed the sound of her squelching pussy to memory. You’d seen her wet before, you’d gotten her wet before, but you’d never taken the time to unravel her the way Wanda had. She was properly soaked, sheets drenched and darkened beneath her trembling thighs.
The pad of your thumb found her clit when her walls tightened around your fingers, rubbing skilled circles against the sensitive bud that begged for release you hoped you could provide in time. You didn’t offer praises, didn’t let encouragement slip into the silence filled by only Wanda’s moans as hers became muffled against the cunt riding her face. You were certain they’d fall on deaf ears at this point, entirely positive that Natasha was too far gone into Wanda to even hear you utter her name. Instead, you encouraged her with the pressure of your thumb against her clit and the punishing speed at which you pumped your fingers in and out of her cunt. You had her right on the edge, right at the point of coming apart completely, but Wanda wasn’t close. In your overzealous attempt to match the pace in which the Sokovian had set, you walked not only you, but Natasha into a trap.
“Stop.” Wanda demanded, and you had no choice but to comply, your fingers coming to a halting stop within Natasha’s cunt that was so desperate for something sweet. You whimpered at the feeling of Natasha’s velvety walls fluttering around your fingers, her clit throbbing beneath your thumb as her hips squirmed wildly on the bed. There was no way you’d be sleeping here tonight, not with Wanda’s insurance that you never sleep on sheets that aren’t perfectly clean. “I’ll give you another chance, moya lyubov’, do not let it go to waste again.” Your eyes snapped up to hers, unsure of whether it was yet another game she was playing, but when her head tilted the the side and her lips pursed, whether it was to hold back her own moans or to intimidate you, you weren’t entirely sure, you knew she wasn’t.
You nodded frantically, all attempts to get Natasha to the edge resuming, and it wasn’t a hard feat. The Russian was sensitive, so slick your fingers had almost slipped out, but she was already climbing that hill of pleasure again beneath your thumb and around your fingers. It took seconds, mere seconds to have her at that perfect place again, but unlike the last attempt, Wanda was right along with her. The Sokovian moaned as her head fell backward and her hips stuttered, Natasha’s binded hands unable to provide support like she otherwise would’ve. You didn’t wait for permission to fall from Wanda’s lips between her broken moans and breaths, tripling the efforts you’d already set in place to get Natasha thrown off that cliff and into bliss. Your tongue found her clit the second she toppled over, soothing the harsh sensations that you’d previously provided. You moaned at the first taste of her on your tongue, licking and sucking at every expanse of sensitive skin until she was writhing beneath you for an entirely separate reason.
Your fingers fell away from her cunt at the first indication of oversensitivity, but your tongue kept up its pace, licking her out until you were certain that not an ounce of arousal clung to her skin anymore. That wasn’t enough for you however, and your tongue lapped at the arousal that dampened her thighs, licking it away with eager swipes. At some point, Wanda had eased herself off of Natasha’s face and had begun to undo the binding around her wrists, but you hadn’t realized the Russian was free of her restraints until calloused hands gently reached for your face and pulled you up to see her eye to eye.
You looked absolutely ravaged with her arousal clinging to your chin and lips, and a blush across your cheeks from your own orgasm. Eagerly you crawled up onto the bed fully, only faintly aware of the ache in your knees and back from the position you’d been laid in as you unraveled her completely. You straddled her lap when she guided you into doing so, your arms twisting around her neck before you dug your face into her shoulder, hiding away from the light.
“What can I do for you?” You asked softly, voice muffled by her shoulder but she’d understood you perfectly, her hand coming up to stroke along the back of your head as she held you in place. You were vaguely aware of Wanda walking back into the closet, but you didn’t question what she was searching for, content to just be back in Natasha’s arms.
“Just let me hold you, malyshka. You did such a good job for us.” She praised you quietly, her voice scratchy and raw from the hours of screaming she’d done. You hadn’t realized how much time had slipped away since she’d guided you into the closet by your hand, but the clock on the nightstand hadn’t lied to you yet, and the illuminated numbers indicated that two hours had been devoted to breaking Natasha down.
“I should be telling you that.” You huffed, curing further into her body, desperate to encase yourself in her warmth. Natasha didn’t mind, letting you curl around her like a little koala as she held you sweetly in the center of the bed. “I never wanna edge you again.” You mumbled against her neck, turning your head so you were pressed directly against her, your soft breaths tickling the sensitive skin of her ear.
Natasha laughed at your admission, and a gentle finger guided your chin up so your eyes could meet fully and properly for the first time in hours. “You ever edge me again, your ass will be over my lap before you can even say your sorry.” There was no bite to her words, but you never wanted to find out if she was being serious, so you merely nodded quickly in response. “I know Wanda scared you earlier. She gets lost in her head sometimes, she didn’t mean it.” Natasha soothed, but you’d already figured that her words from hours ago weren’t honest. They’d assured you at least a hundred times that the only way you were ever getting away from them, is if it was your own carefully thought over decision.
“I know.” You whispered, leaning in to brush your lips against Natasha’s in a soft kiss. It was the softest touch she’d felt in hours, and eagerly she leaned into it, giggling at the taste of her own arousal when your tongue brushed against hers. “Ya tebya lyublyu.” You murmured against her, giggling when her lips curled into a grin and she peppered kisses across every inch of your face that she could reach in this position.
“Ya tozhe tabya lyublyu.” She mumbled back, her eyes dancing behind you when Wanda reappeared from the closet. You settled against Natasha’s chest, not wanting to leave her embrace anytime soon, and it didn’t feel like she wanted to let go either. Your eyes fell upon Wanda, who at some point, had thrown a t-shirt on and tied her hair back up into its once occupied messy bun. You made grabby hands at the woman, an action that you had recently learned she could never deny.
“Privet, moy sladkiy malysh.” Wanda smiled fondly, coming to join both you and Natasha in the mess of sheets. You hadn’t noticed the clothes in her hand before, but you watched as she sat two t-shirts down on the pillow cases that were still damp from Natasha’s tears, and a bottle of cooling lotion quickly joined the pile. She snuggled close against Natasha’s side, her fingers tangling into the Russian’s hair in the same soft and tender way you’d grown accustomed to. “What do you need, Natty?” She asked softly but received the same answer that you had, Natasha just wanting the both of you close for a while.
Wanda sighed softly, already beginning to detangle herself from Natasha’s arms. “Let me put lotion on your wrists, then I’ll give you both all the cuddles.”
Natasha groaned, her stubborn attitude already peaking through the surface level haze that twinkled within her eyes. “They don’t even hurt that bad, let me hold you.”
“You say that every time, and every time I listen to you, you make me get out of bed at three in the morning.” Wanda rolled her eyes, but affection was clear as day in her tone as she didn’t fight the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. “Hug your duckling, she deserves some cuddles for being such a good girl.” Wanda winked at you, and you blushed beneath her smothered praise, hiding your face in Natasha’s chest much to both of their amusement.
“The best girl.” Natasha pressed a kiss into the top of your head, her lips lingering for longer than necessary, though you weren’t complaining. You settled against her chest, watching Wanda unscrew the cap on the lotion and squeeze a generous amount onto the palm of her hands. Tentatively, you reached your own hand out, wanting to help ease Natasha’s pain in any way possible. Wanda didn’t question your action, squeezing the tiniest pea sized dollop onto your fingers and instructing you to be soft, but make sure that it was all evenly applied.
Natasha gazed down at you with tender softness in her eyes as you gently took her wrist into your hands and rubbed in the lotion. She couldn’t help the tears that glimmered in her waterline as you eased yourself into her aftercare routine without hesitation, just another part of their life that you so easily integrated into. You beamed up at Wanda when you were done, giggling when the Sokovian kissed the tip of your nose and praised you softly.
It wasn’t until you heard Lucky bark through the open window that you remembered about the dogs that were still outside and probably hungry by now, the sun having faded into darkness hours ago. You looked between Wanda and Natasha, a crease in your brow as you asked, “Um, do we even have dog food?”
malen'kaya shlyushka – little slut
ya khochu, chtoby utenok byl na rozovom remeshke, kogda ya priyedu tuda. – i want the duckling on the pink strap by time i come in
privet, moy sladkiy malysh – hi, my sweet baby
#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#dom!natasha romanoff x reader#sub!natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff smut#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#dom!wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff fluff#wanda maximoff smut#wandanat#wandanat x reader#dom!wandanat x reader#wandanat fluff#wandanat smut#series: you are in love#minors dni ৎ୭
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Triple D.
Perlude
“We need assistance!”
Shouted the elite Navy SEAL into his earpiece. He was taking cover behind a low, nearly destroyed concrete wall to avoid the many bullets flying at him and his small task force. They’ve been in Aleppo, Syria for a little over two weeks and each day becomes increasingly violent. Senior Chief Petty Officer, John Stevens–Kelly, with his team of fellow SEALS are outnumbered by the Russian Military.
“Chief, this is base! We’re doing all we can to find you some backup! With the Marines and the Army being dispatched throughout Sudan and Iraq, we’re spread a bit thin! We will do our best to send assistance!”
Lieutenant Commander Karen Greer, is trapped in an abandoned building across from them and without proper backup, John Stevens–Kelly can’t get to her to see if she’s alive. Dust and debris crowded his vision and one by one he watched in horror as his men fell to their knees and died. It was supposed to be an easy escape and rescue of a CIA operative who was taken hostage by a suspected pro-Assad paramilitary group. It turned out to be the Russian Military.
“Damnit,” John fired rounds from his AK47 that was nearly out of bullets, “Guys, we’re on our own! Watch your six and try to keep out of the fire!”
A few SEALS tossed grenades to buy them some time as they moved toward the abandoned building. Structures were exploding and coming down on them and hostiles were coming in fast. If the base doesn’t send anyone, they are all dead. The mission was a disaster from the beginning. All they had to do was collect the hostage, get some intel, and get the hell out. A few days stretched into two weeks.
“Chief?! We’ve got you covered! They’re dropping in now!”
John hid himself behind a brick wall and spoke into his earpiece.
“Who’s dropping in?!” John replied firmly.
Dirt swirled like a small tornado when two helicopters swooped down and soldiers wearing all black slid down from a rope with guns blazing and ninja–like abilities. The Russians didn’t stand a chance. One-by-one they were taken out by the unknown soldiers. There was one soldier that stood out above the others and moved as if he were bulletproof.
John took that opportunity to run as fast as he could to the abandoned building to find Lieutenant Commander Karen Greer. He ditched the AK47 for a pistol and when he finally crossed over into the building, Russian troops jumped out of their hiding place and John took them out immediately. He could see the soldiers dressed in black enter and spread out in search. One soldier, however, took his place in front of John. He removed his all black balaclava and helmet, revealing himself to John.
“Killmonger.” John says, a slow laugh echoing from his mouth, “Nigga, where have you been?! You show up now?!”
Erik Stevens, a former United States Navy SEAL who was eventually assigned to a Ghost Unit for the Military, stood before his twin brother after two months of no contact.
“You know we work off the grid, bro. Deeper shit than rescuing some crooked ass CIA officials. Glad to see you’re still breathing.”
“Glad to see you’re not dead in a fuckin’ ditch somewhere, E. What the hell have you been up to?”
“The less you know, the better,” Erik handed John a gun, “Let’s make this shit speedy before more Spetsnaz show up.”
The twins together were the strongest. John missed the days when he worked alongside his brother, but Erik grew tired of the straight arrow. He wanted to get his hands dirty in ways John couldn’t agree with. Erik becoming a mercenary formed a wedge between them for a while, especially because John didn’t enjoy killing for sport like his twin. Erik was ruthless and cynical, whereas John only showed that side of him in the line of duty. There were plenty of times where John and Erik bumped heads.
The brothers made their way deeper into the abandoned building and finally discovered Lieutenant Commander Karen Greer and the CIA Operative hiding in a small room. The CIA Operative had a gunshot wound to his left thigh. Relief washed over Karen Greer’s face when she spotted John. She leaped up into his arms and hugged him tightly.
“Aight, save the reunion for later! We gotta go!” Erik shouted aggressively.
Erik carefully pulled the CIA Operative up and they quickly made their way towards the helicopter. Karen Greer bit her tongue while following them out of the room. She couldn’t stand Erik, and it was partly due to the fact that he was the reason things never worked out between John and her. She disliked the fact that John defended his hot-headed brother, even when he was wrong. She’d craved John’s love but deep down she knew it would never be the same.
Back outside, they succeeded with making it out alive and the helicopter took off. Karen Greer attended to The CIA Operative’s wound by creating a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. John made eye contact with his brother and he reached his hand out to clasp Erik’s firmly. Karen Greer watched the interaction with a neutral expression. It was silent the entire ride to base. Killmonger and his team remained on the helicopter while the few remaining SEALS, Karen Greer, and John Stevens–Kelly helped the CIA Operative to base.
__________
One Week Later:
Lagos, Nigeria was where John went to meet with his twin brother. It’s been a week since they’d seen each other and it would be good to catch up. John made his way into a striking waterfront home within a gated community wearing a v-neck, long-sleeve, khaki tunic with matching pants. He removed his shades and began pacing the grand entryway with curiosity.
John took a chance and stepped forward, eyes moving from left to right. Before him was a double, rounded staircase and to his left was a large study and to his right was a family room. John entered the family room and placed his duffel bag on the floor next to an end table with a large African head statue crafted from a tree trunk.
“Pay him handsomely. He deserves it…”
John spotted a portly, Nigerian man with a big grin wearing a traditional Nigerian caftan in all white with colorful embroidery and matching white pants. Killmonger stood before him at a towering height of 6’4 wearing a fitted black T-shirt with dark camouflage pants and black boots. He shook the man’s hand firmly with a slight smirk before turning his dark gaze onto a butler that held out a recondite sepia leather duffle bag for him to take.
“We will do business again, Killmonger. In the meantime, Make you enjoy your stay in Lagos…”
John watched the man and his servant leave the magnificent home. Killmonger’s heavy hand clasped John’s shoulder and he turned towards his identical twin abruptly.
“Didn't think you’d actually show up, bruh. Good to see you J.”
They hugged each other tightly before letting go.
“Whose house are we in?” John questioned.
“Don’t worry about all that. Just know it’s ours for a few days. You hungry? Want something to eat? Drink?”
John didn’t automatically respond to Erik. He was being hyper vigilant. His eyes scanned every nook and cranny of that enormous estate.
“My bag—”
“John. Relax. It’s just me and you here. No more unorganized missions and Karen’s mess. You get to put all that shit behind you and unwind. When was the last time you had that, bro? And please don’t tell me that old story about us drag racing on the Los Angeles River. That shit happened when we were eighteen.”
Erik thrust a glass filled with amber liquid into John’s hand. John was the definition of the ‘perfect soldier’. Loyal, noble, and dependable on top of being a tactician and strategist. When he’s in the war zone, he’s ruthless. That part of his life has always been hard to relax from. Even when it comes down to relationships. He’d always been afraid to grow with a woman because of what he does for a living. Too many times he’s witnessed fellow SEALS slaughtered in their own homes.
Unbeknownst to his crazy brother, John would love to have a companion. Someone he could come to whenever he made it home safely. Whether it be a serious commitment or strictly physical. He could never have that with Karen no matter how hard he tried. He craved pillow talks, massages, the smell of a woman’s perfume. So many things. Erik was right, he needed to decompress. John drank the entire contents of the glass, realizing it to be whiskey.
“Fuck it. You’re right. What’s the move?”
Erik rubbed his hands together like the mastermind he is.
“Aight, figured we could get some food, meet up with some ladies, and hit the town. I know some good spots here in Lagos. Tomorrow we can take a yacht out and smoke some cigars. Just live it up, you know?”
John smirked, “Sounds all good to me. What ladies? Hopefully nobody you touched. We all know what happened back in college. Sydney…”
“Ahhhh…Sydney. She was…” Erik kissed his fingers, “Scrumptious. You ain’t have no problems with me hittin’ that!”
They walked out towards the back of the home and took a seat near the inground pool. Erik took a small sip from his glass before sitting it on the ground beside him to remove his boots. John lounged back and placed his shades over his eyes.
“So, now you’re silent?” Erik teased.
“I’m silent because you love to leave out certain details. I was falling DEEP for that girl. Her excuse was she couldn’t tell us apart.”
“Both of us had the same cut, J! Like I told you before, I didn’t know. Anyway, she’s married with a son or some shit… good for her.”
John chuckled, “It’s been too long for me. So long that I’ve become picky. I don’t want just any woman.”
Nigga,” Erik scuffs, “You serious? It’s been three months for me. I miss the sex. I miss giving and receiving. Shit…I got a job in a week and this job gotta be one of the worst and I mean my whole fuckin’ chest will be covered in scars by the time I come back home to the Bay—you think I’m fuckin’ lying? I need this. I wanna be pissy drunk in a bed full of women before I touch down in Vietnam.”
John took his shades off to look at Erik.
“You scarring again? Thought you said that shit was over?”
“I guess old habits don’t die hard,” Erik shrugged, “I enjoy it.
John squinted, “You enjoy having that reminder on your body? You’re fucking crazy…”
“Says the nigga that ain’t never giving this life up. You live for this shit too, J. Don’t act like me and you are any different. Just because I do shit dirty doesn't mean you ain’t getting a thrill out of it. See, ever since you became best buddies with Sam Wilson you've been acting brand new.”
“Your thrill and my thrill are not the same, E. And what’s wrong with Sam? He’s cool peoples. Don’t get me wrong. I love what I do. But…it’s a job for me. For you, it’s a game. You have this killer instinct. Example,” John sat up, “You remember what happened in Iraq? What you did to that family? Torturing? That shit was…that was brutal.”
“Yeah…I remember. I also remember very clearly that they were the enemy. I also remember losing friends to those enemies. When I get behind that heat,” Erik made a gesture with his fingers to mimic a gun, “I don’t care who I’m aiming at. If it’s meant for you, it’s meant for you.”
“…Wild,” John stood up and stretched, “I’m getting some more to drink…”
“Fill me up!” Erik held his glass out, “And bring the whole bottle. We gotta get ready in another hour to head out.”
“Damn, I just got here,” John shakes his head.
“The pussy don’t wait for no one!” Erik shouted after his brother.
_____________
“This is…?”
“I’m Malaika.”
“Oh yeah! Malaika. Good to see you again, sweetheart.”
Erik nudged John while they were seated in Silverfox; a luxury strip club on Victoria Island in Lagos. John perked up and gave his twin brother a sideways glance before reaching out his hand to greet Malaika. Her soft, graceful hand within his calloused one felt warm and friendly. John took the time to admire Malaika. She has some outstanding characteristics that make her irresistible. Among them all, her rich, dark skin with big, dark brown eyes stood out to him the most. Skin so lovely and smooth. She had a curvy figure with a tall stature that made him wonder if she were a model. She wore her hair in straight-back stitch braids that hung down to her butt and a form-fitting, cyan-blue dress with silver stiletto sandals.
“How you doin’ I’m John.”
“Hi, John,” Malaika’s eyes scanned his body, “First time in Lagos?”
“It is, yeah.” John responded.
Malaika took a seat next to John with her drink in hand trying to spark conversation. Her best friend, Zola, sat with Erik on the opposite end of the sofa on his lap. Malaika was used to seeing her best friend being all over Erik. She was his ‘girl’ whenever he touched down in Lagos. Zola’s coarse, voluminous Afro shielded Erik’s face while she leaned in to give him a kiss on his plump lips. Erik had a handful of her bubble booty that stood out in her denim shorts. When she faced forward again, she caught eyes with John and waved. Zola was just as gorgeous with her toasty-brown skin and mahogany eyes. Her sheer-black halter top gave a brazen view of her pierced nipples.
“How do you like it so far?” Malaika asked.
“It’s a vibe. Definitely into it.”
John reached for his drink and Malaika’s eyes tracked it.
“What’s in your cup?”
“STARR Rum. I’m a rum kind of guy. You?”
Malaika twirled the last remnants of her drink around, “It’s some Patron mix the bartender did for me. I don’t really like it.”
She pouted her lip before sitting her cup down on the low table in front of them.
“We still got rum left in the bottle. I can pour you some…”
John uncapped the bottle and proceeded to fill Malaika’s cup. Meanwhile, Zola and Erik are watching the various women twirl and do tricks on the pole. They had already thrown cash and some of it littered the floor of their section.
“What do you do if you don’t mind me asking?”
John angled his body to face Malaika while relaxing back against the lounge sofa.
“I’m a Navy SEAL.”
“Hmm,” Malaika roamed John’s body with her sultry eyes, “Is it dangerous?”
John chuckles. In his mind, he was saying what he really thought but he’d just met Malaika so he didn’t want to give off bad vibes. Of course being a SEAL is dangerous.
“It’s considered one of the most dangerous military occupations. Combat operations…hazardous training…specialized missions…it’s risky. You gotta be prepared for that.”
“Wow. I bet you’ve seen a lot.”
John nodded his head, “I have. More than I’d like to discuss,” John cleared his throat, “Tell me a little bit about Malaika.”
Malaika tucked her chin bashfully, “I’m in medical school currently. Not much of a social life at the moment but it’s worth it.”
John’s unruly brows shot up with interest, “that’s dope. Educated and gorgeous…I like that.”
Zola sipped her drink while watching John and Malaika get to know each other. She held a tiny smirk on her face. Erik was too busy making his dick jump against her ass. Zola looked down at him over her shoulder as best as she could with all the hair she had.
“You need to cut it out, Killmonger. Calm that big dick down…”
“I’ll calm it down when you get that phat ass up off my lap, girl.” Erik retorted.
“So it’s my fault? Teh,” Zola rolled her eyes, “Not my fault you can’t control yourself.”
“Here we go,” Erik threw his head back and laughed, “Zola…stop acting tough. Because we both know that I’ll put your ass through the mattress and have you screaming big daddy at the top of your lungs. Stop it.”
“Who did you fuck in Cuba?”
Erik’s eyes went round at her outlandish question.
“Zo, are you serious?”
“Yes, I am. I want to know.”
“I thought you ain’t care who I fuck when I’m away?”
“I haven’t seen you in months and you’ve been giving this big dick to some other bitch and I wanna know…”
A chuckle could be heard from across the table and Erik peeked over to see John and Malaika tittering into their cups.
“Help me out, bro,” Erik gave John a pleading look.
“I wish I could, E. I haven’t seen you in months either.” John bantered.
Erik put his middle finger up at his twin. John simply laughed. He knew his brother all too well. He was definitely fucking some women in Cuba. He’d caught his brother in many nefarious situations with women. Some of which almost got them killed. Erik’s sex drive had to be sated even through war. John had control for some time because he’d been in a long-term relationship with a high school sweetheart at one point before dating Karen on and off for three years.
“Forget all that. I’m here right now with you. Let’s make the most of this shit before I’m gone again.” Erik said with finality.
Zola simply rolled her eyes in response. Erik’s hands caressing her frame as he stared her down with an unwavering gaze while whispering to her seemed to melt her jealous core. She couldn’t fight the urge to blush when Erik’s hand palmed her ass and gripped it tight and possessively.
“You two are so different,” Malaika whispered to John, “you’re very laid back and he’s very outspoken.”
“Believe it or not, we play off of each other well,” John replied, “My silence is just me being observant for the most part.”
“You seem shy.”
John licked his lips and cracked a dimpled smile, “I’m not. I promise you.”
Malaika giggles.
“You definitely are though,” John elevated a single brow and squinted at her, “You’ve been avoiding eye contact with me.”
Malaika opened her mouth to speak but she quickly realized he was correct.
“It’s not that I’m shy…you’re just fine as hell.”
She turned and crossed one leg over the other, causing her hip to poke out. John fixated his lustful gaze on her generous curves. The colorful luminance bouncing around the club against her dark skin had him salivating for a taste. It’s been too long since he’d had some good pussy. And Malaika could be just the girl to soak his dick.
“Thank you, gorgeous,” John scooted closer to her, “But don’t let that intimidate you. I love eye contact. And the way you walked in here tonight showed me you have a lot of confidence,” John took a chance and placed his hand over her knee and started stroking it with his thumb, “That’s a huge turn on for me.”
“Mm, oh yeah? What else turns you on?”
Malaika traced John’s thin, gold chain with her gemstone-covered acrylic nail.
“A woman that knows what she wants…isn’t afraid to express it and show it…release her inhibitions.”
“Mmm…”
John’s words had Malaika yoked up by the pussy. Her breathing changed, her eyes went low, her nipples hardened, and she couldn’t keep her hands off of John. She ran her hand down his chest and down his thigh. John’s dick bricked-up so fast he didn’t see it coming. She was stroking his thigh while his dick expanded in his pants.
“Ayo, J!”
John looked up to see a woman so fine he almost groaned. A pole dancer with fat titties, thunder thighs, and a top-shelf ass started showing out in the section. The red-hot one-piece with a large keyhole cutout that left little to the imagination and a pair of stunning stockings attached to the bodice barely covered her body. John had never seen so much ass in his life.
“Throw that shit, baby!” Zola shouted while throwing hundreds.
Erik stood up and started making it rain over her. John grabbed a stack and flicked it towards her direction. She kept popping that ass like she didn’t own a vertebrae. Malaika clapped her hands in time to the bounce of the dancer’s cheeks.
“Damn, ma! Show out!” Erik yelled. L
“Aye!” Malaika said loudly.
“That ass is crazy,” John shook his head.
When she finished dancing, she collected her money and walked off as if she didn’t just render everyone speechless.
______________________
They were lucky to make it back safely to the mansion in one piece with the way Erik was driving his yellow Lotus Emira V6. The ladies took off their five-inch heels at the door and John had to bend down and help Malaika because she couldn’t keep her balance from all the rum she drank. Erik took off his embroidered crochet shirt that matched his shorts and threw it over the banister. His locs fell into his eyes at that point from the wind when he was driving.
“Are we still getting in the jacuzzi?” Zola asked.
“Hell yeah. You got an extra bikini for Malaika?”
“I do. Let me go get it,” Zola climbed the stairs while gripping the banister.
Erik followed her and he caught up with her to slap her on the ass.
“You okay?” John had a tight hold on Malaika’s waist so she wouldn’t fall.
Malaika drunkenly giggled, “I’m good. Let's change.”
John grasped Malaika’s hand and they climbed one side of the staircase. When they got to the second landing, John led Malaika down the hall to the room he’s in during his stay. John pushed open the double doors to a large room with a balcony that oversees the yard and beyond. John grabbed his bag to find his swim shorts while Malaika started taking off her dress. John paused to watch her. She was standing before him in a strapless, nude bra and matching thong. Malaika caught him staring and gave him a seductive smirk.
“This will be all yours tonight,” She crawled over to him on the bed like a feline, “All yours…”
John’s eyes followed her movements until she reached her destination and pressed her sweet lips against his. The kiss felt damn good. John could kiss for long periods. He looked from her lips to her eyes and then he closed the space between them and his lips were on hers again. Malaika sat up on her knees and started unbuttoning John’s boxy-fit, black top. She smoothed the fabric from his shoulders and broke the kiss to see his body.
“Fuck, you’re body is…mmm…Abeg, come fuck my pussy…”
Malaika’s hand found its way between John’s legs and she squeezed his stiff dick. John grunted against her lips.
“You’re so sexy, John…”
She was hungry for attention. Malaika started fumbling with his black pants to free his third leg. John paused her horny pursuit with a gentle grasp of her wrist.
“Protection.”
Malaika gave John a slight pout. John slipped away to his bag and opened a small pocket to grab a SKYN elite large condom. He made his way back over to her and Malaika proceeded to take off her bra. John stopped her again and then he tilted her chin up to make her stare directly in his eyes.
“Let me,” John reached around her and unhooked her bra.
His eyes admired the slope of her well-endowed breasts with large, brown areolas and small nipples. John didn’t waste time crouching down to suck on each erect nipple just so he could taste her luscious, dark skin. Malaika thrust her chest out and tried her best to watch John but the way he looked her in the eyes was too much for her to handle.
“Fuck, John…just like that…” Malaika moaned.
She tasted just as good as she looked. John was drooling. The door to the room opened and in walked Zola wearing a sage green bikini with her hair styled in a bun to avoid getting wet. John popped Malaika’s left titty out his mouth and sat up quickly. Zola and her bouncy, glistening cleavage crawled onto the bed and she held out a royal blue bikini for Malaika to wear.
“Here, bitch! Hurry up!”
Malaika sat up and Zola took it upon herself to remove Malaika’s thong. John’s eyes stared between Malaika’s thighs at her semi-hairy pussy. Erik approached the door with a bottle of amber liquor in his hand, drinking straight from the rim. He had on a pair of black and white striped swim shorts. Malaika slipped on her bikini bottoms while Zola helped with her bikini top. John’s dick wouldn’t go soft and he really wanted to continue where they left off but Zola was dragging Malaika out of the room.
“You still ain’t ready, nigga?! Did we fuck up a moment?”
“Whatchu think?” John replied sarcastically.
He snatched up his red swim shorts.
“Can I get some privacy?”
Erik walked away and took his laughter with him.
After John got dressed, he made his way out to the jacuzzi. When he got there, Erik was seated on the edge of the jacuzzi with his feet in the water that bubbled up like a witches brew. Zola and Malaika were splashing each other and shrieking. John lowered himself into the jacuzzi and wrapped his arms around Malaika’s waist, pulling her towards him. He started peppering kisses down her slender neck. Zola placed herself between Erik’s legs and he fed her some liquor straight from the bottle. Some of it dribbled down her chin. Erik sank into the water and wrapped his hand around her bun, extending her neck so he could like and suck on her neck.
Malaika’s eyes couldn’t stray away from Erik’s broad, muscular back littered with tiny, raised scars. John noticed that she was staring and Malaika tried to play it off by kissing his cheek. John wasn’t surprised, Erik’s scars drew a lot of attention. And it made you question what type of person would do something like that over and over.
“I noticed you don’t have any scars…”
“…I have a few. We started them together. I just didn’t have the desire to continue…”
Malaika turned to face him, “Can I see them?”
John took Malaika’s right hand and brought it to his right side. Her fingertips grazed three small raised bumps.
“What made you stop?” Malaika stared up at John with curiosity.
John removed her hand and leaned in to give her tongue. That seemed to distract her. John wanted to focus on the sex and the good times. As beautiful as Malaika is, he knew what it would be between them. She didn’t need to know about that.
“You kiss like…I no get! I no get…”
Zola had her legs wrapped around Erik’s waist as she watched John and Malaika kiss over his shoulder.
“How come you never brought John around before?”
Erik pulled back to look at her. He scrunched his face at her question.
“Wetin? I mean…you’re identical twins. I’ve never seen twins so separated…”
Erik cocked his head to the side, “John has his own thing and so do I. That doesn’t mean we’re not close.”
“But—”
“Zo, you know you’re ruining the mood right? Look,” Erik points to John and Malaika, “Instead of you worrying about me and my brother's bond, you could be worrying about this big dick you missed so much.”
Erik lets Zola down and he climbs out of the Jacuzzi. He motions for her to come to him and he lifts her out of the water. Erik picks her up bridal style and Zola squeals. Malaika and John were too busy swapping spit to care.
____________________________
Zola missed his big dick alright.
That slight curvature to the left with the perfect amount of width-to-length ratio that would have you in the falsetto was back in Lagos after five long months. Despite Zola wanting to keep Erik all for herself, he’s a side dude. Zola is married and from what Erik knows, unhappy. They don’t talk about her marriage whenever they link. That’s Zola’s rule.
Her husband couldn’t fuck like Erik could. Despite her famine, Zola enjoyed the feeling of his fat dick sinking into her creamy center like it was the first time. Zola arched her back and took that long dick like a champ on the edge of the bed. Her wild, kinky fro shielded her face and she gripped on the bed as best as she could.
“I thought you said you liked big toys, Zo?!”
He pounded her pussy at different angles and different strokes to make her feel it. Zola had chills all over her body. His 6’4, 225 lb frame towering over her from behind could be seen in the reflection on the ceiling mirror. She looked back at him with tears in her eyes and nothing but cries escaping her mouth.
“Comot from dia…oooh…I can’t take it…Abeg, big daddy!”
Erik’s response to that was more strokes. His balls slapped her clit and her body convulsed. He popped her on the ass and that triggered her to cum hard on his condom-covered dick.
“Come up off this pussy, bitch? Huh? I thought I told you to take this fuckin’ dick? Huh?”
“Na so,” Zola replied weakly.
“Don’t play with me, Zo. I know how to get you…”
Erik slipped out and Zola released a heavy squirt. His dick and that curve was pressed against her spot on purpose to make her do that. Erik used his thumb to rub on her clit from the back causing more to release. She was a quivering mess in a puddle of her own release. Erik positioned Zola on her back and locked her legs with her knees pinned by her ears. Erik’s dick sank back inside of her and she almost lost it again.
“Fuck! Oh fuck…”
Zola gasped. Erik fucked her with a roll of his hips. He watched her face contorted in many different ways while grunting and biting his lip.
“Pussy creamy, you hear all that? Damn, girl…”
“Oh!”
“You lookin’ at this? Hm?”
Zola’s eyes looked down and all she could see was his big dick going in and out of her. He hit her spot so good she couldn’t keep still.
“Zola, how deep this pussy go? Deep enough for daddy?”
She could only nod and tremble. That bottom lip would not stop quivering. Staring up into his onyx eyes that were shielded by his locs, Zola watched as he cracked a smile.
“Right there…oh my god I’m cumming—”
Erik slowly pulled out and his dick sat on top of her waxed pussy lips as he released into the condom.
“Fuuuck. That pussy good, Zo. So good, baby…”
Erik coaxed Zola into a tongue kiss. She gripped his chin and he rubbed her pussy.
“You wish you could have me every night?”
Zola’s eyes welled up with tears. They weren’t sad tears. The definition of dickmatized was Zola. She knew that as soon as Erik left, it would be a long while before he returned.
“I’m on top now,” Zola sat up, “I want to feel that dick from another angle, daddy…”
Erik removed the old condom and grabbed a new one.
“You can ride it all you want, girl.”
Erik could recall sleepless nights filled with multiple sessions with Zola. Erik had hoes in different area codes but one thing about Zola, she could take dick well. And she was his best eater thus far. Zola climbed on top of Erik and got up on her feet to bounce. She lined his dick up with her opening and lowered herself. Zola gripped Erik’s shoulders and started bouncing.
“Unh! I love the way it feels going up inside of me!”
“I know, you got my nuts hurting, fuck!”
That ass collided with his balls each time she came down.
“DAT’S IT…fuck this dick…ride this shit so good…just like that…Suck the nut out this dick with them pussy lips…pussy hella tight…take this nut like you tryna get a baby…”
Zola moaned loudly and she fell to her knees on top of Erik. Her walls gripped his dick with tight pulses. Erik’s hips jerked and he groaned while painting the inside of the condom milky-white.
_____________________
While Zola and Erik were busy, John and Malaika made their way back to the room. Their wet swimwear resided on the bathroom floor and Malaika was on her back in a flash. John was leaning over her body, kissing down her neck. His dick throbbed against her inner thigh the more his lips moved closer to her breasts. Malaika was trying to steal peeks at his dick. It felt heavy against her thigh, but did it match the sensation? She could only hope so.
Malaika and her hairy pussy were begging for attention. She cradled the back of his head while his lips went from nipple-to-nipple. John’s lips tugging on her nipples made her clit pulsate. This man was teasing her and she couldn’t take it. Malaika pushed him so that he would sit up. John lifted to his knees and Malaika anxiously lifted to admire his dick.
She blinked slowly at what would be the prettiest dick she’d ever seen. It had a slight curve to it, which was new for her because she’d never taken dick like that. From first glance, she flinched because of how intimidating his dick looked. Prominent veins, wide tip, girthy, and at least 8 ½ inches. John startled her by caressing her bottom lip with his thumb. Malaika’s eyes met his. He had this hungry look in his eyes. She liked that a lot. Very primal.
“You want it? Come get it…”
Malaika found herself on her knees. John stood up and Malaika wrapped a hand around his shaft. She bounced it in her palm and realized how heavy it was. Her stomach clenched. She was going to fuck all this dick?
“Malaika.”
She opened up and wrapped her lips around him and started sucking. A longing sigh escaped his mouth. It was as if he’d forgotten how good it felt to have his dick sucked.
“Mhm…mhm…good girl…”
He gently strokes her chin with his thumb. Malaika sucked as much as she could.
“Damn…I needed this…”
John shut his eyes and drew his bottom lip into his mouth. Malaika’s loud slurping filled the expansive room.
“You like that shit?”
Malaika bobbed her head. He even tasted good. She slurped and John had a tight grip on her shoulders and he started bucking his hips. Malaika did her best to relax her throat. Spit trickled down the sides of her mouth continuously. John’s tongue swiped his bottom lip and his eyebrows knitted together. He was close. Malaika could tell because he was swelling in her mouth to the point that her jaws were sore.
“I’m finna nut…ughhhhh—”
Malaika’s pussy ached to be fucked when the first taste of cum from his beautiful balls hit her tongue. She had to moan herself. The more she jerked, cum painted her tongue. John watched with low eyes and parted lips. When she finished, John lifted her to her feet and instructed her to get on her back and spread her thighs. She grabbed him by the dick impatiently and John had to grab the condom to roll it on.
“Slow down, mamas…”
Malaika spread her pussy lips, “I should have shaved—”
She wasn’t prepared for that intrusion. Malaika cried out so loud her voice bounced off the walls. John didn’t care about some hair. He had some himself. He wanted—NEEDED to be inside of her. He had his hands on her hips while his big dick pumped her. With each thrust, Malaika would whimper. Silent but deadly. He could fuck some pussy up.
“John! Oh my god…”
He was swimming in her pussy. The wetness seemed to overflow the more he fucked her.
“Mhm…”
His chain in her face and the scent of sandalwood on his skin stimulated her senses. Malaika was going to cum hard. Whenever she looked up into his eyes, stroked the back of his head, and said his name, he would just stare back with this neutral expression. That was dangerous. It meant he KNEW his dick was lethal.
“Oooh, here it comes, YES—”
“Good girl…cum for me…”
Malaika spasmed beneath John. He kissed her temple and then he picked her up, walking Malaika over to the dresser. He sat her down on the dresser and without a word he hooked her left knee over his arm while using his right hand to line his dick up again and before she knew it he was back inside. Both of her knees over his arms, John thrust in and out of her. Malaika locked eyes with him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.
“I gotchu baby…”
“Yeah?”
He was fucking her so good Malaika couldn’t believe it. Her rich, dark skin glistened with sweat and so did his russet skin. John watched as his dick went in and out with a bite of his lip. He lifted Malaika completely off of the dresser and bounced her on his dick.
“John! John! John!”
Her cries were beautiful. John felt that sensation.
“Shit, I’m cumin’—”
John gave Malaika two more thrusts before he erupted into the condom.
_____________________
Time was lost to them as they slept in a pool of their own secretions. The silence that surrounded them in the darkness of that room alerted John to a ruckus. His ears could pick up the faintest of noises. John slowly sat up in bed, rubbing his left eye with the back of his hand. He was still naked with no desire to get dressed in case Malaika wanted to go another round.
John glanced down at the sleeping beauty before looking towards the door. He gently pulled the sheets back and climbed out of bed to grab a pair of shorts and a white beater. When he finished getting dressed, out of habit John grabbed a black pistol with a long barrel and a slightly lighter trigger pull for ultimate precision. He approached the door and carefully twisted one of the handles to open it.
The hallway was pitch black. John entered the hall, eyes moving from left to right, making his way towards his brother's room. When he approached Erik’s door, John tried to push it open but he was met with the muzzle of a silver, chrome plated Glock. Erik was on the other end. His hard, menacing expression relaxed when he realized it was John.
“You heard something too.” Erik whispered.
“Yeah,” John motioned for Erik to follow him, “it came from this way…”
The twin brothers stealthily moved towards the top of the stairs. When they got there, John spotted what looked like a militant. He didn’t think twice before pulling the trigger. They fell to their knees and as soon as they did, more shots rang out causing John and Erik to take cover.
“What the fuck?!” Erik pressed his back against a wall.
He could hear footsteps drawing closer so Erik jumped out and fired his pistol, the bullets connecting with the intruders head. John covered his brother by aiming his shots over the banister. He hit one in the chest and the other in the leg. They rushed down the stairs two at a time and broke out into combat, disarming whoever came at them.
“Argh!”
John dragged one of them away while Erik had his knee in the back of the other's head with his gun pressed against their cheek.
“Who sent you?! SPEAK!” John barked out.
“Erik!”
Erik looked towards the top of the stairs to find Zola and Malaika captured by more militant men. They were both barely covered with a sheet to conceal their nudity.
“If you shoot, we will kill them…”
Erik scowled furiously at whoever it was making threats.
“You’ve been on our radar for a while, Killmonger…”
John looked from his brother to the men holding the women hostage.
“Bandits?” John questioned.
Erik clenched his jaw. He kept a low profile in Lagos. No one knew about his whereabouts except Adewele, who he did business with. Did he betray him?
“How did you find me?”
The bandit wearing Nigerian militia and a red scarf shielding half of his face pointed his gun at Zola. John closed his eyes for a second. Erik looked at Zola with venomous suspicion.
“She’s our eyes and ears, isn’t that right? My wife?”
“What?” John couldn’t believe it, “You’ve been fucking the wife of your enemy?!”
Erik lost it.
“Erik, please–I–I–”
John watched as Zola’s brains were blown. The apparent leader of the bandits didn’t expect that turn of events. Malaika wailed, trying to escape. John watched her struggle, his mind racing. He didn’t know whether to trust Malaika. Erik didn’t hesitate to kill Zola. Malaika was tossed ferociously to the side while guns blazed. Erik raced up the stairs to handle the leader himself while John fought his way up towards Malaika. He got to her in time and fought off a militant before tossing his lifeless body down the stairs.
“John,” Malaika stared at him with tear-stricken eyes, “I didn’t know…I swear.”
“Here,” He helped Malaika to her feet, “I want you to hide until we make sure it’s safe, okay? Go.”
John watched Malaika run into a nearby room and close the door behind her. John ran off in search of Erik. He could hear commotion and found Erik fighting the leader of the bandits. A knife fight. John barged over and was nearly knocked over when a militant tried to subdue him. Erik swung his blade expertly while covered in blood.
“When I get you, I’m cutting your fucking head off!!!!” The leader shouted.
John brought the militant to the floor and wrapped his hands around his neck. He watched the life leave his body. Erik took a slash to his chest before throwing his blade, precisely hitting the leader in the eye. He dropped like a sack of potatoes to his death. Erik rocked back on his heels and dropped the blade in his hand. John approached his brother to check on him. Erik looked up at John with a smirk before laughing. John wasn’t in the mood for laughter.
“…I’m gonna go check on Malaika—”
“Nah, she’s probably in on this shit just like Zola. I can’t believe that bitch betrayed me.”
“You can’t believe it? Are you fucking serious? You ain’t learned from last time?”
“Whatever,” Erik picked himself up and stormed over to the door, “I gotta make a call. We need to be outta here before they come knocking.”
John clenched his fists and instead of going after Erik he went in search of Malaika. John made his way to the room she hid herself in and when he got closer he realized the door had been opened. John kicked the door open and flicked on the light. It was empty. He made his way back to the room he was in and noticed it was empty too.
Malaika had fled. He didn’t have time to process his emotions in regards to Malaika’s true intentions. All he hoped was that the girl was safe.
“How soon can they get here to clean up? I gotta disappear before shit gets hot…I’m gon’ keep it real with you, Adewele, I don’t trust anybody right now. Not even you. I appreciate how you came through, but I’m cutting ties…just wire me my last payment and we’re good…”
John listened in on his brother’s phone call before revealing himself. Erik paused to look John square in the eyes.
“I called a friend, they’ll meet us outside of the city to fly out. I’m gonna be off the radar for a bit to clean up this mess…”
John shook his head, “Do what you gotta do, bro. Just keep me the fuck out of it. I don’t wanna know what you did to have these people on your back. I got my own shit.”
Erik chuckled dryly, “Yeah, I know. Fuck me and my shit. I get it…”
Erik started packing his things. John had another mission when he got back.
“Listen, E. You should cool off for a while. Lay low someplace safe and leave this shit alone—”
“Can’t. I got a big job in Vietnam. I’m looking at a million dollar paycheck, bruh. I’m not laying low and missing that opportunity. You wouldn’t know anything about that…”
He didn’t have the energy to argue with Erik. And arguing wouldn’t change his mind. John walked away to get his things together. While he cleaned up and got dressed to leave, whoever Erik’s business partner called showed up to clean up the house. John watched the large men toss the dead bodies onto a five ton M939. John followed Erik out of the mansion and towards an armored, all black, Military hummer. They tossed their bags onto the back and climbed into the front.
Erik and John drove for five hours until they arrived at a dirt strip in the middle of nowhere in rural Benin. It took a lot of effort to get there without running into trouble. There was a helicopter waiting to transport them to their jet. John hopped out of the vehicle and gathered their bags while Erik spoke with his friend.
“This is my twin brother, John. John, this is Turk. We used to work closely together doing odd jobs…”
He appeared to be an Ethiopian man wearing a turban head wrap and dingy clothes covered in ultisol.
“Nice to meet you, John. Are you two ready to fly out?”
John shook Turk’s hand, “Yeah, let’s bounce.”
Once their bags were secure on the helicopter, they strapped themselves in and Turk took off.
John took a sip of water out of a canister while Erik focused below to make sure they weren’t being followed.
“E…”
Erik cut his eyes at John.
“I think it’s time to be abstinent.”
Erik snorted, “I see you got jokes…”
“You didn’t know who Zola’s husband was?”
“…She told me her husband was a limp-dick Doctor. There were no signs pointing at the shit being suspicious.”
“Malaika left.” John said.
“Who gives a fuck? You should have killed her ass. What happened to all that without remorse type shit?”
John shrugged, “It doesn’t matter now. Let’s get out of here now before shit blows up. You're still coming home after your next job, right?”
“I ain’t got a choice. I don’t want G-ma lighting a fire under my ass about it.”
John chuckled tiredly, “You know she don’t play.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Aye,” John leaned forward on his knees and reached out his hand, “Make it home in one piece.”
Erik clasped his brother's hand and gave him a pointed look, “Always. They don’t call me Killmonger for nothing. We touchin’ down in The Bay the same day and gettin’ hyphy.”
___________________
Promises couldn’t be kept. John was back in California within two weeks, but Erik hadn’t shown up. He had another top secret job awaiting him and he communicated to John via email that he’d be home in a few days. John drove to his new apartment in his all-black, BMW M340 with the windows rolled down, his favorite shades on, and a smirk on his face. The first stop he wanted to make was to his favorite barber in Oakland. He needed a good fade with a crisp line-up.
After his appointment, John headed to his new apartment and walked into a halfway furnished living space. He sat down on his black leather home theater sectional and released a sigh of contempt. It felt good to be home. No more sleepless nights, death knocking at his door, and covert missions. He could shower, eat, sleep, beat his dick, and watch crap TV. He could play COD and do normal things like grocery shop and spend time with his family.
After a long shower, John moisturized and threw on a pair of shorts with a white tee. He slipped on a durag and decided to order in. He had a long talk on the phone with his grandmother and promised that he would be over on Sunday for dinner. John ordered himself a meat lover's pizza and some hot wings. He sat at his high top on a stool with his laptop opened to a dating site. After Malaika, John was fiendish for another woman to spend some time with.
He settled on Hinge. He wasn’t really feeling Bumble at the moment. He was looking for someone to hook up with to scratch that itch for pussy. Bumble had too many women looking for commitment and John wasn’t ready to be locked down quite yet. He hadn’t checked his profile in a while so he was curious to see how many matches he has.
“Dana…26…art major…”
John read her profile and he instantly lost interest. He continued.
“Kayla. You’re too young…”
He washed his food down with some wine.
Hi, handsome
You have a nice smile
Are you interested in hooking up?
He started to wonder if this was a good idea. He’d gone through thirty profiles and not one was enough to make him pursue. That was, until he came across a woman he’d matched with a few days ago. He had to get through almost fifty matches to find her.
Her name was Gia; a thirty-one-year old woman with undeniable beauty. She’s a Spelman graduate with a degree in Biology and Anthropology. John read her dating profile and found Gia to be captivating and he hadn’t even spoken to her.
She’s looking for a low commitment relationship with good vibes, food, and conversation. She makes it known that she’s career-driven and is looking for a man in uniform, specifically a soldier. That narrows down the dating pool. There are other traits about her that John loved and he didn’t waste time sending her a message.
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#nahimjustfeelingit-writes#killmonger imagine#without remorse#killmonger fanfiction#killmonger smut#erik killmonger
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Her Russian Surrender by Theodora Taylor
4 stars
audiobook
There were so many pieces to other stories I’ve already read in this one, I love all they all interconnect, or lead, to the next story. In this case, these two couldn’t be more opposite, on paper, and at first glance. As they learn to trust and fall in love, they realize they are way more similar than they realized. Add in the scorching chemistry between them, and they made for one volatile HEA!
#Theodora Taylor#Her Russian Surrender#Ruthless Russians#50 Loving States series#Kobo Plus#Audiobook#TBR reads#am reading#read romance#romance reader#romance books#read#romance#books#reader#bibliophile#book love#book blogger#book review#steamy reads
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The Call
Chapter 5: Rushman
© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE
Summary: You were supposed to take her out—the infamous Black Widow—Natasha Romanoff. The S.H.I.E.L.D. has been keeping an eye on her for a while now and for some reason, another high-ranking agent as you was sent to get the mission done. But then, he made a different call leading the mission to be here in front of you, soon to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
Pairings: Ex-Russian Agent Natasha Romanoff x Senior S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Female Reader
Tags | Warnings: slow burn (it’s happening y’all), violence, kidnapping, torture, explicit language, hurt/comfort, 1v4, guard dog and angry angry angry Natty (strong arms Natty🥵 she is back breaking and cracking bones, kicking teeths for a living), vulnerable reader, Madisynn and Yelena's ship is sailing, Fury being a detective and keen observer dad
Author's Note: Missing my wife so here I am…writing while she's out (I hate work😡)
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⧗
"What you think, Rushman?"
"Ask about the arms deal happening at the end of the week."
Natasha listened quietly to the instructions being relayed to her via her earpiece, her face a stoic mask. She evaluated the situation, her sharp mind calculating the security measures in place.
"Not a bad place," she remarked, her tone low and detached. "But do you guys really have the stuff necessary to secure all this square footage?"
She got a couple of looks and tried to remain calm; using 'secure' like that would definitely get her suspected of being an undercover Agent.
Realizing the slip-up in her choice of words, Natasha quickly adapted her demeanor, keeping her arms folded and tight to her sides, the picture of nonchalance. Despite her slight blunder, she maintained her composure, "I know a guy with both hands under the table," she kept her arms folded and tight to her sides. She didn't manage to sneak anything in with her weapons wise. Her fists were enough to hold their own in a battle.
One of the guides brushed off her question, stating, "Don't worry about it." He reassured her, mentioning that more support was on its way.
As they arrived in the basement control room, Natasha observed the smashed window with a furrowed brow. Her instincts kicked in, and she honed in on the details of the scene, taking note of it.
"Did we catch something?"
"You could say that." His grin gave Natasha a bad feeling.
They turned on the singular light bulb that lit the decrepit little space a small figure tied to the chair, dread welled up in Natasha. The figure tried to remain still in the chair, but the blood trickling from their limbs betrayed the restraints' unforgiving tightness.
As Natasha tried to maintain her composure, the sight of the restrained figure hit her like a wave of dread. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't ignore the familiar details—the slender frame, the slope of the shoulders, even the glimpse of the sharp collar bone protruding from the button-up shirt. The stockings were torn, probably from getting dragged to and fro. Shoes were probably the first thing taken from them.
A woman beside the restrained body was wearing her jacket, the same jacket she gave you last night.
Natasha's heart stopped.
She knew it was you before they pulled the burlap off your head.
As they pulled the burlap sack off your head, Natasha's heart sunk deeper, the sight confirming her fears. Before she could even fully register what was happening, a ruthless blow landed across your face, forcefully snapping your head to one side with a sickening crunch. The chair screeched against the concrete surface beneath as it shifted from the force of the punch.
The girl that was standing beside you came up to Natasha and touched her biceps as she circled her.
Natasha steeled her expression, knowing that she couldn't afford any display of emotion. She felt their eyes on her, watching for any crack they could exploit, checking to see if they had found the weakness they thought. If they had found their mole.
"Where'd you find her?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," the worker bees around her snickered as they watched the show. She ran her hands over Natasha's muscled arms, circled her like a predator, a smug smile playing on her lips.
Natasha clenched her fists tightly under her armpits, her nails digging into her skin with increasing pressure, leaving behind angry crescent indents. The intensity of her grip grew, mirroring the effort she exerted to maintain her composure, even as her jaw worked in a white-knuckled attempt to keep her teeth from clenching too obviously. She forced herself to remain still, the muscles in her neck straining with the effort, despite the overwhelming fear and rage that was making her vision blur.
You didn't utter a word as they laid into you, taking every slap and punch with little more than a grunt or a burst of air. You kept your eyes shut as they hauled your head up by your hair, still pulled back into a ponytail.
The realization hit Natasha that you hadn't been taken from the safety of your home. You were still dressed in the clothes from the party last night, leaving her feeling a wave of nausea as she wondered how long you had been imprisoned in this cold, dimly lit room.
Guilt gnawed at her, regret filling her like a lead weight in her chest. She should've walked you back to the party, or booked you a cab, even if you had protested, insisted that you could manage on your own.
The man gloating about finding you tightened his grip on your hair, forcefully turning your face towards him and inhaling against your cheek. His words rang in Natasha's ears, a reminder of your vulnerability. "We got a tip that there was a real pretty little thing hanging around," he said, a twisted sadistic pleasure in his tone that made Natasha's skin crawl.
"Don't move a muscle, Agent. Stay on target," the warning echoed in her earpiece, and her blood ran cold as she heard the commanding order to remain still.
Fury assigned Natasha to Coulson's division for a while after her mission on Stark. How far were they planning on letting this go? How long had they been listening to you get hurt? Do they even know that the daughter of the director is getting hurt?
The eyes in the room were still fixed on Natasha, testing her limits, pushing her for a crack in her facade. She felt the weight of their gaze. "Y'know, someone let us know that she was with SHIELD." It was clear that they were trying to push her, to see if they could expose her.
Of course someone had tipped them off. How else would they have been able to get the drop on the Furious daughter?
"Y'know what they say," another one slapped her on the shoulder before strolling into the semi-connected interrogation room. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"
Natasha wiggled her fingers against her palm, feeling the blood he'd drawn. She felt herself reaching her breaking point, your subtle movement caught her eye, and she glanced in your direction. You pried your least swollen eye open and looked at her, managing just a little twitch of your lips. No one else would be able to recognise it as a smile—they'd sooner assume it was a flinch.
But Natasha could always tell.
You shut your eyes again as one of the men grabbed your neck, forcing you to expose the length of it, their touch sending chills down your spine. "She is a pretty thing, huh?" the man remarked, turning back to Natasha, his finger trailing along the exposed skin.
"Agent, do not move. I repeat: stand down."
Natasha watched the hand trail down your neck to your collarbone, just barely peeking out from your tight black dress. He pulled out a knife, cutting off one the black dress.
The two in the room grinned at each other as the knife trailed exposing just the hint of a white bra with floral lace. "Should we see how pretty?"
The man's eyes glinted with malicious intent as he offered Natasha the knife, a cruel smile playing at his lips. "Rushman? Would you like to do...the honors?"
Natasha hesitated, but she knew what the risks were. So after contemplating, she took the knife handle. She slowly walked towards you, her eyes flickered over your battered face, taking in the bruises, the split lip, the swollen eyes.
The impatient shouts from behind her only fueled her frustration and anger.
"Fuck her already!"
You could see the struggle in her eyes, the internal battle she was fighting. You wanted to reassure her, to let her know it is okay, but your voice was hoarse from the abuse you'd endured—and besides it would blow up her cover.
She caressed your cheek and you leaned on her touch, a tear fell down slightly nodding at her—silently telling her that it's going to be okay.
"Do it Rushman!"
"Fuck her! Like this!" A man shouted, mimicking aggressive gestures with his ring and middle finger. "Give us a fucking show!"
"I know how to give a good fuck, don't tell me how to fuck her." Natasha bit out. She knows she's damned after what she just said besides Coulson's team hearing her words.
Hearing her say that she would give the daughter of the director a good fuck.
You, her boss, hearing her say that she would fuck you.
Natasha knelt in front of you, and mouthed I'm sorry, she caressed your face one last time. "Can you close your eyes for me?" she whispered, "Please, detka."
"Don't open them unless I told you to."
Because she never wanted you to see that side she's about to unleash. It is a version of her that she had buried in the past after she was given a new life, a new chance—a fresh start. The side of her that you are very aware of because it was the side of her that you studied half of your life. The side of her that you hated.
Your mission.
She doesn't want you to see it, especially not now that she is falling in love with you.
But your life is at risk and so is the beast within her.
As soon as you shut your eyes, she turned and grabbed the first man by his head and, with a single, powerful motion, slammed his face down onto the wooden table. The force of the impact shattered the table's surface, sending splinters flying.
The girl reached into the back of her jeans, "Fuckin' mole—!"
Natasha spun on her heel, her shoulder driving into her like a human battering ram and before she could hit the ground, Natasha grabbed a handful of her greasy hair and yanked her head down, ramming her knee into her face with bone-shattering force. The sound of crunching teeth filled the room as she slumped unconscious to the floor, blood pouring from her ruined mouth.
"That is my fucking jacket." She spat out as she aggressively removed the jacket from the girl.
No one can deny that Natasha is by far the strongest on SHIELD—probably one of the strongest agents in the field, if not the strongest.
She grabbed the creepy one by the hand, "This is how you fuck," she gritted before twisting it all the way around to pop it off the wrist. The creep screamed and howled in pain.
The sudden violence in the room had you flinching with each loud impact, your heart racing. Every crack of bone, every thud of a body hitting the ground, made you jump and tremble with fear. Wishing that it's not Natasha.
Only if you know that it was Natasha who was causing those sounds.
The one who had been doing the beating on you held up his hands, backing away from you on the chair, who was still eyes closed and was close to passing out.
"Agent! Stand down, this is a direct order!"
Natasha tore the earpiece and its connected mic out of her ear and let it fall to the ground before crushing it under her foot. She kept her eyes on the man with your blood on his knuckles.
"H-Hey, Rushman," the idiot was at least smart enough to try and barter his way to safety. "Look, we both know you're not gonna kill me—"
"Says who?"
The smaller of the two men shrank a little. Maybe his life wasn't as insured as he thought it was. "O-Okay!—okay, look, I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry. You want info?! I'll tell you—I'll tell you everything! Who tipped us off, e-everything!"
Natasha grasped the bastard by his shirt, slamming him up against the wall, black in the eyes. "You've got a lot of nerve bartering with me after what you did to her—"
"Nat."
The beater hit the floor like a sack of bricks.
Your eyes were still closed but you shook your head side to side. Now you're sure Natasha is safe, and is probably the one causing these idiots to cry since you heard her voice.
"Detka…" Natasha moved in front of you, lifting your chin as gently as she could. You'd have one hell of a black eye, and your naturally sharp cheekbones were split and swollen. "You can open your eyes now."
And you did.
"Backup better be on the fucking way," Natasha growled as she get you freed. Your body naturally folded in on itself in its injured and vulnerable state. Natasha hesitated as she pulled the jacket that the girl stole from you, she doesn't want you to wear that anymore so she shirked off her leather jacket, pulling it around you and zipper it up over your exposed chest. "Or those old fucks are next."
The beater was trying to crawl to safety and Natasha slammed her heel down on his back.
The beater threw up anything that was in his stomach. Natasha leaned down, yanking his head up by the hair, as he had done with you minutes ago. "You're gonna tell us everything."
He nodded.
"You are going to cooperate with every agent you see."
He nodded again, more vigorously.
Natasha dropped the man like a ragdoll, his body hitting the floor with a dull thud. She turned her attention to the other, who was struggling to his feet, his face pale and sweaty. "And you," she said coldly, stepping closer to him.
You didn't even blink as Natasha grabbed his shoulder, then his jaw, and twisted. You watched as the man's lifeless body fell to the ground. You looked up at Natasha, "I'm going to pretend I didn't see that."
Natasha said nothing. Now you had seen that side of her. This is the Black Widow you have been craving to catch, your mission, your past mission.
Natasha nudged the man's corpse out of the way with her foot, his body falling onto its side, picking you up and sitting down in the chair for herself with you in her arms.
The sounds of your fellow agents storming the building started at the top of the building and traveled through its open, gutted remains. They would be with them soon enough.
Natasha sat and waited. Her mind raced, considering the potential consequences of her disobedience, she would be lucky to be suspended and on probation. Much more likely, they would have internal affairs investigate her for her disobedience and fire her.
But with your safety on the line, you in her arms right now—she'd face them all willingly.
She would accept any punishment they gave her—gladly. She turned her head, pressing her lips to your temple in the slim window of being alone with you.
⧗
"Easy, widow," Yelena held up her hands and took a few steps closer, walking towards your bed and to the chair of your guard dog. "Just checking if you need anything."
"I'm fine."
"Come on, Nat." Yelena pleaded, she knew that Natasha would be grappling with the tragedy, and she had heard that no one could get near you with Natasha by your side. "She's okay, right?"
"She better be," she finally let out a sigh, uncrossing her arms and turning her head halfway away from you and towards Yelena. "It's the only reason I'm here and not hunting down those bastards."
"Natasha, they're being handled by SHIELD." Yelena reassured, calming her Natasha down.
"I am not pertaining about them." Natasha murmured but the blonde was quick to pick up the pieces.
"You know, if anyone were to hear you threaten Coulson's division like that it'd be your position," Yelena warned, to which Natasha didn't even offer a shrug of acknowledgement. Yelena looked at her determined unwillingness to rest if it left you unprotected. "Okay, just...yell if you need me, okay?—either of you?"
Natasha let out another heavy sigh, "thanks, Lena."
The door closed gently as Yelena left, leaving you sleeping peacefully with your guard dog.
Natasha sat by your side, her eyes never leaving you as she contemplated what just happened. You looked so peaceful, as if you two hadn't been together the night after you were kidnapped and brutalized.
She still feels guilty.
It was true; no one had managed to come near you. Natasha had been told that Maria will be handling her questioning, even though she saved you, the daughter of the director, she cannot be saved from the by laws of SHIELD.
Natasha leaned forward, pushing some hair away from your cheek. Her finger brushed the pale—and already bruising - skin there, and you leaned into her touch in your sleep. She smiled, undeniably melted by the subconscious trust you had in her. "Come on, boss. I need you to open those eyes for me."
As if you had heard her plea, your lashes fluttered, and then your eyes opened, revealing the stunning shade she adored. She greeted you softly, her voice gentle, her eyes locked with those beautiful eyes of yours. "Hey."
"Hey," she softly repeated, beaming at you though fighting back tears, her voice a bit thicker with emotions held in check. Her hand softly ran through your hair, the affection pouring forth freely despite the professional front she usually maintained around you. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been strapped to a chair and beat up."
Natasha huffed a slight laugh, but your weak attempt at a glare—despite your exhausted condition it brought a small smirk to her lips. "Now? You're making jokes now?" she replied, her voice affectionate, her smile growing when you tried to glare.
Your smile was heavy and hazy, fighting against the pull of anesthesia. But it was there, and it was real. "You seem like you need it, agent."
Her hand still glided gently through your hair, tracing over your temple and cheek, as if trying to feel the reality, to confirm you were real and not a ghost. There was a vulnerability in her eyes, a raw emotion barely contained, "I-we need you to be okay."
"Then I'm okay."
The moment stretched, as Natasha felt the warmth of your cheek against her palm, cherishing and committing it to memory. She knew this moment was fleeting, that this vulnerability would soon fade.
"Y/N—"
"Natasha," you pressed, and she sat again, pulling your hand into her. "I know you went against orders to come and rescue me in there."
"How is that the problem?!" She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. "And not that I was ordered to stand by and watch while—"
"Focus, Natalia," As you crooned her government name, Natasha felt herself refocusing. The soft tone and the use of her true name anchoring her firmly in the present. Your reassurance settled the turmoil in her chest, the quiet command and your words grounding her, bringing her back from the edge of her worry. "You saved me. You. That's all that matters."
She exhaled slowly, some weight lifted by your words. As she leaned forward, she found your hands, interlacing her fingers with yours, "What hurts?" She asked, assessing your pain.
You gave it a test, shifting faintly under the thin hospital blankets. "Everything?"
"They should have you on stronger meds," Natasha growled, her protective instincts flaring, ready to march into the hall and demand the staff provide stronger medication. She gripped your hand gently in hers, her worry and fury evident in the tense lines of her face.
"Mm," You held her hand, shaking your head in disagreement, despite your weakness. You fought to keep her with you by your side, refusing her protective instincts. "No, just...just leave it be."
"Y/N," she whispered, sounding positively agonized about it. "I don't want you to be in pain."
"I'm fine," was the first thing out of your mouth, only to realize that it was utter bullshit as far as Natasha was concerned. You corrected yourself, "just stay. Just...just...please?"
She all but collapsed, weak in the knees at the sight of your eyes pleading with her. She nodded, helpless to do much of anything else for you. She brought your hand up to her lips, bold move, "yeah—yeah, of course, Y/N. I...I'm right here."
You closed your eyes again, evening out your own breathing as well. "If they know I'm awake they'll have you dragged out of here to question us both."
"I can just be daddy's girl and it's done. I think they're forgetting I have that power and title."
Natasha huffed, a small sign of amusement at your joke, knowing full well that you don't and would never use your title as the director's daughter to sidestep consequences. You have earned your title in SHIELD with your own efforts, own sweat and tears.
"They're not coming anywhere near you so long as I'm here."
"Natasha."
"I mean it, Y/N," she reiterated. She gave your hand another squeeze, "they have no right coming to talk to you when they're the reason you're in here. They can wait until you're released, and that's if I'm feeling generous."
You peeled your eyes open again to smile at her. "If only I could have you as protection for every time I had to talk to those—"
You cut yourself off to yawn, failing to cover your mouth, Natasha fussed with your blankets, her tone gentle and commanding. "You should go back to sleep; get all the rest you can before the questioning begins," she whispered, hoping to spare you any unnecessary strain while knowing it was futile.
Your voice was soft, the medication making your muscles feel heavy as you asked, "Can't wait." Your hazy eyes found hers, searching for reassurance. "You'll be here right?"
She smiled at you, keeping you hand firmly in hers, "I'm not going anywhere."
Meanwhile, Yelena and Madisynn peered at the door, witnessing the tender exchange between you and Natasha. Their fist bumping, "Good?" Yelena smirked.
"Good." Madisynn confirmed.
The two women jumped slightly, freezing in surprise as they turned to see your father—the director of SHIELD standing behind them, holding a bouquet of flowers and your favorite egg pie.
"So my daughter and Romanoff..."
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff au#natasha romanoff fanfic#black widow#natasha romanoff x you
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—𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚, 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐩—
pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader
summary . you both knew you would never be able to be together — so you had to take the shot, even if it would be the only and one time.
warnings . smut! I am not responsible for your content consumption! bottom! Natasha, soft sex, praise kink (?), cunninglingus, face riding, fingering, multiple orgasms, forbidden love, Red Room trope in general, non graphic violence, implied sexual harassment (Dreykov), cursing, angst.
notes . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so I apologize for any spelling errors. feel free to leave any advice though!
disclaimer: they're both 18, before the graduation ceremony.
highschool sweethearts thing because I'm a simp for it. ^^
divider credits: @benkeibear
"Love is for children." they'd say, "love is a weakness." so how the hell did you manage? Natasha wondered, how did you kept the facade, even with all the things that happened between you, in secrecy from the rest of the widows — from Madam B, and from General Dreykov?
Because even her, one of their best widows, was starting to lose it.
Ever since the beggining, you were the most ruthless, emotionless, cruel widow they had. You couldn't remember your life before the Red Room, because it never existed. They took you from your parents when you were 2, and your training started by the age of 4.
You could swear you were born like that — cursed, without a heart. You never cared for anyone, for anything. Your only task was rob, torture, kill. Because the apple doensn't fall far away from the tree.
But somehow, that girl still managed to change you.
When Madam B put the redhead as your opponent, was when your whole perspective of life, of being, changed. God, you hated her. She had everything you ever wished to have — the longing for a family, the care for people, the gentleness. That showed whenever you went on a mission together — it wasn't a part of her characters, it was herself. When she spoke to you about Yelena and how she tried to protect her, when she took you to the dark warehouse to take care of your bruises.. especially when she insisted on covering your ears and mumbling a russian lullaby to muffle the sounds of the other girls screams in the night.
She taught you what love was. And that made you want to kill her. To kiss her. To tear her apart. To make her scream, and not from pain.
Dreykov always made it clear that romance, or even the slightest display of affection would result in severe punishment, or worse, execution. That was because he knew that the widows would never be able to find a partner outside his walls, so finding that need between each other was the only way out.
Yet, Natasha and you had an advantage point — you were the best of the best, the most talented widows. So first: he wouldn't suspect anything, and second: he couldn't kill his best agents. It would be his loss.
That's how she became your little secret. You were an hell of an expert, because you never let your feelings get in your job. Neither did Natasha, but it still shocked her.
It started with a simple peck on the lips by the age of 13, in the farris wheel of the amusement park you were undercover. Your cart was the one on the top, where you could see all the atractions from, and no one could see you. You tried to convince yourself it was just teenage curiosity, but it still led to that.
The hotel room of Belgium, Brussels.
You never knew the simple mission on breaking in a bank was gonna lead to that.
Natasha did everything in a rush, knowing that you could do it smoothly, but just to be able to spend a little more time with you. Like now.
You sighed deeply, leaning against the sink's counter and looking at your reflexion in the mirror. The cut on your forehead was stinging a little, but you decided not to pay attention. The redhead walked in the bathroom, just not expecting to see you only in a black lace bra and the black tights of the vest. You heard the click of the door, but showed little emotion. "Hey, Red."
"Oh, Y/n..." she whispered, her eyes searching for yours, wanting to know if you wanted her to leave. You gave her a shake of your head and a small smile. She walked through the door with a soft exhale. "I already settled the guns and all the weapons. I also wrote the reports, in case you're wondering."
"You spoil me too much," you smirked tiredly. "You do all of that just to have me a little more, don't you?"
Your joke made her look down a little. "Yes," she whispers.
"You do?" you raised an eyebrow, not expecting her to affirm. "Well.. we still have 5 hours before they retreat us, so.."
"Your forehead," Natasha cuts you off, frowning in concern, rushing to check on you. Her hands went to hold your shoulders as she studied the cut — she only realized your lips parted and your gaze at her when she felt the straps of the bra beneath her hands.
"It's fine," you whispered, clearing your throat. Natasha looked away for a brief second, before looking into your eyes again.
"It's not, let me patch you up—"
You shook your head, placing your hands on her waist and leaning in, shutting her up with a long, gentle kiss. You pulled away and met Natasha's dreamy gaze, her eyes a little disoriented.
"Y/n..." the redhead mumbled, her eyes fluttering close and her head dropping to your shoulder, as she sighed.
"God, the way you look out for me makes me so weak." you chuckled, your palm rubbing her back, fingernails grazing her skin. "You know you don't have to do that. I can take care of myself just fine."
"I don't care," she said, lifting her head again to get herself lost in your eyes once more.
The graduation ceremony was coming soon, and you couldn't care less about that — but with her, it was different. You both knew what the ceremony actually meant, and Natasha was scared. She didn't want her dignity off her. And not knowing how to deal with this, she just wanted to protect you, in a way to comfort herself, her heart.
"It's gonna be okay, Natalia," you smile, planting a little kiss on the tip of her nose. "It's not gonna be the first surgery they perform on us. Besides, I'm gonna be with you as soon as you're back on the dormitory, okay?"
"It's just," Natasha gulped, her arms wrapping around herself. She was thinking far, of the future. "Who's gonna want a woman who can't even do the basics? Who's gonna want a woman who can't give birth to a baby?"
"Me." you simply said, placing your hand on her cheek, Nat immediately leaning into the touch. "I will. Because when we're out, we're getting married." you giggled. "Wasn't that our promise 4 years ago, when we were 14?"
Natasha's eyes snapped back to you. It was clear she didn't want to think of that as a joke — she had to show you how much she felt for you. And she wanted- needed you to reciprocate her. So she completely forgot of all the damn rules. She grabbed the back of your neck, and unintentionally pushed you up against the wall, kissing you with urgency.
Your eyes widened in surprise, but fluttered close again as the shock vanished. Your hands went to hold her waist again, tightening as you felt her press herself against you.
"Nat..." you whispered against her lips, breaking the kiss. She looked at you, her lips grazing yours again, your noses brushing.
"It's our only chance," she whines. "We were pleasure toys for men since we were little, can't we have something real for once? Before everything falls apart?"
Your breathing hitches as she says that. You let your eyes close, guiding her backwards and outside the bathroom, towards the bed.
"It's forbidden, but who the fuck cares? Who knows if we're not getting killed someday, or if Dreykov send us to different bases and we never see each other again?"
"Natalia," you shake your head, shakily breathing. "Everything I've done, everything I did was for one reason — having you by my side."
Natasha whimpered, sitting you down on the bed and standing between your legs. "Y/n, I want to see you."
"Then do it." you replied with no hesitance. "you're the only one who I'd consent to, Natalia."
At this point, you swore you forgot everything else than how she slowly unattached the hostler from your hips, pulling the tights and panties down and breathing rapidly by the sight of you semi-naked in front of her. Before she could do anything else, you stood up, hand moving to zip down the tight suit they made you wear. Natasha whined, leaning herself into your hands.
"So impatient," you whispered, finishing with the zipper and removing the fabric of her body, taking your time to do so. She held your shoulders and let you slip it down her legs — along with her panties, which she wasn't expecting. Natasha gasped quietly as the air hit her core, making you smile softly and stand up again.
"Darling," you cooed, hands moving to her back as your face found shelter on her neck, gently nibbling and kissing there. "you're so pretty it hurts,"
"Y/n," the redhead almost moaned, tilting her head back to grant you more access. She felt the straps of her bra slide down her shoulders and bit her lip as her breasts were freed, the lack of the tight clothing giving both of you an immense relief. In a moment, your lace lingerie was gone too.
"You're so gorgeous..." you whispered in her ear, your fingers tracing all the scars on her body, which you were sure you already had memorized. "And you are mine."
"Yes," she nodded, wrapping her arms around your waist. The skin on skin contact from someone she actually trusted felt too good, too much. "Yes, yes I'm yours."
Natasha then gently sat you down again on the edge of the bed, taking your breath away as she kneeled down in front of you, her hands gently pushing your knees apart and holding them open like this.
"God," she whimpered, leaning her face to slowly press kisses on your inner thighs, your back arching a little with the contact.
You took a moment to look at her dreamily, your slender fingers going to tangle in her red hair and play with it softly. "Lyubovmoya, (my love,)"
Natasha swore she could cry now, from the intense emotions building up within her. She couldn't wait anymore. So she did just that — diving into you, her mouth finding your pussy, her tongue inside you, tasting you, savouring the sweetness reserved only for her.
"Fuck, malyshka, (baby,)" you moaned, the sensation of being filled by someone who wouldn't harm you almost sending you over the edge already. "Yes, just like that,"
Natasha whimpered softly, licking the juices that were already spilling out of you, her tongue moving in circular motions against your clit.
"Nat," your head tilted back, hips bucking against her face as your climax approached. "I'm coming, Nat, I—"
She moaned against your folds as you came, licking all of your arousal, her tongue fucking you through your orgasm. After a while, she pulled her head back and looked up at your face.
"You're so fucking beautiful between my legs like that." you murmured breathlessly, smiling in bliss. Natasha blushed, you could tell she really liked your praises. "Are you really ready for more?"
"This is such a bad idea," she lifted herself from between your legs and smiled weakly, straddling your thigh again and gently pushing your back against the bed. "But the best we'd ever have."
You giggled, crawling further back the bed and laying your head on the pillow, your hands pulling her on top of you. Natasha thought of everything but that.
"Y/n," she bit her lip, getting a little shy. "I don't wanna hurt you."
"Don't be a hypocrite." you smirked softly. It wasn't going to be the first time she had suffocated you with her thighs, one of her combat skills. "Let me taste you too."
Natasha carefully placed her hands on the headboard, lifting herself up and lowering her thighs around your head, so hesitant. You gently squeezed her flesh and pulled her flush against your face, making her gasp a little in surprise. In a second, she felt your tongue inside her. So that's how it felt.
"Oh my," she whimpered, closing her eyes tightly, as she slowly started to grind herself against you.
You moved your hands up her thighs, to her hip bone, running your fingers across the bullet scar she had there. There was no doubt that, of all the Red Room academy, Natasha was the one who most took the harshness from Dreykov — sometimes for punishment, for the so called reward for being a good widow, or even to protect you. So she deserved all the sweetness and care she could get, for once in her life.
"More.." she breathed, her eyes looking down at yours — not expecting you to be so skilled, looking closely at her as your mouth worked on her. Your eyes smiled at her, and she felt it.
"Such a good girl," you whisper, sending vibrations all over her body. You then inserted two fingers inside her, carefully laying her down on the bed and hovering your lips against hers. Not kissing her, yet. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll marry you. And I'll scream to the world that you're mine."
"Y/n," she cried, feeling a warm tear roll down her cheek — not knowing if it was the pleasure only, but also her emotions.
"I feel so lucky," you smiled, so softly, lips brushing against her cheek as you spoke. She giggled, her arms circling your neck. Natasha moaned as she felt your fingers brushing continuously against her g-spot, as if you knew her better than herself, and you did. "I would give the world to have you in my arms, and I have it, and I'll never let you go."
"Say that again." the redhead begged, bucking her hips against your hand.
"I'll never, ever let you go." you repeated, feeling her legs starting to shake. "Even if I have to die for that."
"If I die..." she whispered, and suddenly, a wave of arousal washed over her, and she threw her head back, her cum all over your fingers. You gently fucked her through her orgasm, and then licked your fingers.
Nat gripped your back, her fingers digging into your skin. You rolled over the bed and pulled her on top of you. She looked like a baby now, so innocent, so precious. She clinged to you, wanting more of your safety, of your love.
Yes, love. And it didn't matter if she was considered a child now.
"I-if I die," she continued, her voice so so small. Your fingers ran through her hair, through her red locks. "At least I had one good thing in my life. You. You're the only fucking good thing I ever had, Y/n. And I'll take you in my memories forever and ever."
"I love you, Natalia." you said with conviction. "I'll love you in my every reincarnation, in my every life."
That's when you heard a loud bang in the door. The tracker, the wire.
"Goodbye, princess." you held her tighter, as she buried her face on your neck.
"See you soon."
Everything went black. Two widows terminated. Two shots fired.
Dreykov would have to train two other girls to replace you, and it wouldn't be easy.
At least you were free now. And had to hope you'd be married with two kids and a picket fence for the next time.
#natasha marvel#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha x reader#marvel incorrect quotes#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff soft smut#natasha x y/n#natasha x you#marvel#incorrect marvel quotes#lgbtqia#the avengers#Spotify
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Little Girl Gone
So I Heard You're Back in Town (1)
Mob Boss!Natasha x Mob Boss!Fem!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Mob Boss!Fem!Reader
warnings: 18+ Violent themes, Guns, mentions of killing, mentions of thr*wing up, smoking, Dark Natasha word count: 2231 a/n: Wrote this first chapter over the course of a day. It is proofread, but I am only human~
“Shoot him.” Her voice didn’t waver. It was demanding as she stood tall behind you, casting a shadow over you. Your hand shook with the revolver in your hand. “Y/N. Shoot him.” Her hand on your shoulder in a death grip.
“Shoot him.” Her voice didn’t waver. It was demanding as she stood tall behind you, casting a shadow over you. Your hand shook with the revolver in your hand. “Y/N. Shoot him.” Her hand on your shoulder in a death grip.
You slowly, shakily pulled back on the trigger until the loud BANG reverberated. The body in front of you thudding to the ground, a pool of blood forming. The smell of metal and sulfur fill your nose as bile rises from your stomach.
Dropping the gun as you stumble away. You don’t make it far before the bile finds it’s way in your mouth as you clutch your ribs as your throat burns and ears ring out. You weren’t made for this, but she kept saying you were. Her hand on your back, rubbing soothingly. “Such a good little girl Y/N.” She assures you that it took less convincing this time and you didn’t get sick until after killing them this time.
You push her hand away as you stumble away. “I don’t need your praises Natasha.” You grumble wiping your mouth and head back upstairs to your room. The one you share with Natasha the head of the Russian mob around here.
You keep saying you’re going to leave. Get out of here, but if she caught you, you’d be on the other end of her gun so you wait and plan. Get everything in order before leaving in the middle of the night. Leaving behind not only Natasha, but the city for a long time.
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5 years later
BANG! You didn’t give them a chance to try and explain as the other two men beneath you try to scramble backwards. Placing the gun back in it’s holster you grab both of them, “Where do you two think you’re going?” Both of them trying to get out of your hold only for you to grip tighter. “I still have questions for you two and I suggest you answer them.”
“A-anything! We’ll tell you anything you want!” One of them managed out. A smirk crossing your face.
“Good boy. Now tell me. Where is Natasha Romanoff?” You voice and eyes go icy it’s a question, sure, but it’s also a demand.
A snap of your fingers and your right hand woman, Carol, comes over. Taking out the two men once they’ve given you the information you required.
You walk over to two girls, recent additions, Kamala Khan and America Chavez. “Girls I need you to follow up on the information we were just given and please be careful. Natasha is ruthless. Stay a good distance and if you spot her at all contact me immediately. Am I understood?” You look between the two of them. Kamala a smile on her face.
“Yes Ma’am! We won’t let you down.” You smile, ruffling their hair before seeing them off. You too could be ruthless with outsiders and that was all thanks to Natasha unfortunately, but the heart you had before wasn’t gone. Not one bit, just buried a lot further. You still taste bile, but it no longer comes up.
“Carol when you’re done here meet me back at the house with the others.” You let her know as she starts disposing of the bodies.
“You got it boss.”
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You’re lounging when the text comes through,
“Boss we’ve got a surprise for you!” It was from Kamala.
“What is it?”
“One of Natasha’s.” Your heart dropped.
“Bring them here. Now.”
Another twenty minutes goes by before Kamala and America are bringing in a girl who looks not much older than them. They were smart enough to blindfold her at least. They bring her over to you and set her on her knees in front of you.
Even without seeing her eyes you can tell she’s terrified. Leaning over you take the blindfold off, green eyes almost matching Natasha’s and red hair.
“Are you Natasha’s sister?” You ask. She shakes her head frantically. “Who are you?” You ask, softly.
“W-Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.” The name didn’t ring any bells. You study her face and the genuine terror that fills it.
“I’m not going to hurt you Wanda. Are you one of Natasha’s?” You lean back against the couch, keeping one hand in your lap the other stretching the back of the couch. She shakes her head and you eye Kamala. Who throws her hands up defensively.
“S-she offered me a loan...I’m a single mom I have twin boys and when I couldn’t pay her back she took me and told me I’d work for her, but...but...” Wanda started to cry and you leaned back over gently cupping her cheek, wiping her tears away as you shush her gently.
“I was once were you were. Natasha took me, changed me. I won’t let her do that to you. We’re gonna pay back that loan of yours. You’re under my protection now, understood?” She nods frantically. “I don’t want anything in return except to see you happy with your boys. I won’t let her hurt you or them.”
“T-thank you...thank you...” You kept your composure around Wanda. Leaving her for a moment to discuss with Carol what was going on.
“I’m going to stay with her, make sure Natasha or her people don’t get close.” You tell Carol who wants to disagree, you can see it in her eyes. “You’re in charge until I get back from this.” Her attitude changes after those words. “If you do anything I wouldn’t then you’ll be digging your own grave and laying in it.” I tell her with no emotion to give as she gulp's, eyes widening.
“Yes Ma’am.”
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When you arrive at Wanda’s house the two of you entering are met with her boys running down the hall to meet her both hugging her tightly. Then another face comes around the corner and your hand is on your gun in an instant, Wanda holding a hand out to you.
“Y/N. This is Darcy. My friend and she was watching the boys while I was at work.” Wanda informs you, you loosen up, plastering a smile to your face.
“Hello Darcy. It’s nice to meet you.” You hold out your hand for Darcy who hesitantly takes it.
“I met Y/N through work and I invited her over for some coffee and cookies.” Wanda lies and you have to admit it isn’t half bad. She doesn’t give away an telltale signs of lying.
“Okay. Do you need me to stay?” Darcy asks.
“No. Sweet girl you’ve done enough. You watched them almost all day so thank you. Go rest. Please.” Wanda hugs Darcy tightly before the girl leaves.
Wanda makes her way to the kitchen and you hear her start up the coffee pot. Oh maybe she wasn’t lying about the coffee and cookies.
You look around the house. The boys are in the living room, playing video games and remind you of yourself when you were younger. A smile on your face before carrying on through the house, checking all windows and entry points. You look out the back door, checking the perimeter of the backyard when Wanda comes up behind you.
“I don’t mean this in any offensive way, but will you be enough?” She asks and you can’t help, but chuckle, looking over at the mom you’ve found yourself protecting from your ex.
“Natasha was the one who trained me. I know all the tricks she has, but I’ve learned more tricks after I left her. She doesn’t know what I’m capable of anymore. So don’t worry. I’ll be all you need.” You smile at the redhead, a soft smile belying just what you’re capable of.
“Well thank you and I do have coffee and cookies. Homemade of course.” Wanda smiles, her nose wrinkling up as she does so.
“How could I say no?” You follow her to the kitchen island, sitting down while she stands across from you. Conversation flowing between you as the boys make their way out at some point asking if they could have some cookies and ice cream so they could make ice cream sandwiches. Wanda allows it and as she grabs the bowls and ice cream the boys bring their attention to you.
You give the two boys a small smile. “How do you know our mom?” Little interrogators.
“We met at work.” I tell them.
“How long have you worked together?”
“Long enough.”
“What are your intentions with our mom?” You almost choke on the cookie you were swallowing at that question.
“Tommy!” Wanda shriek's at her son. “Enough questions. Unless you don’t want cookies and ice cream?” Wanda walks over with the bowls.
“Sorry mom...” Wanda gives a cheeky grin pulling her son in, giving him a kiss on top of his head.
“I know you’re just trying to protect me, but I’m your mom. I protect you and your brother.” Wanda pulls her other son, Billy, you had learned was his name. Hugging both of them before getting the ice cream and cookies, sending them back off to the living room.
“I’m sorry about that.” Wanda apologizes and you can see the faint blush on her cheeks.
“No need. They obviously care and worry about their mother so I’m glad that I’m here. I won’t allow Natasha to break you guys apart.” You tell her, sipping on her coffee, your eyes flicking over to her and you can see the wetness in her eyes. She wants to cry, but won’t allow herself right now. She shakes her head, dismissing the tears from her eyes.
“So will you be staying? We have a guest room.”
“I will, but I probably won’t sleep.” Wanda nods in response.
“Well you can always stay in the living room?”
“I’ll need to be close to you. If they come here. They’ll come for you.” You remind her and a tint of red finds it’s way to her cheeks once again.
“Y-you can stay in my room then?” She offers and you smile with a nod.
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“Are you sure you won’t sleep or change at least?” You were still dressed in a suit from work. You’d taken off your jacket, tie and vest.
“I need to be ready if she sends anyone.” You sit on the bed next to Wanda, cupping her cheek. “I promise I won’t let her do what she did to me.”
“You keep saying that, but you still seem to have a lot of humanity to you.” A small, dry chuckle leaves you.
“I didn’t let her, but I can be rather ruthless when it comes to protecting those I love and care about. You just haven’t seen it.” You look into her eyes and she’s searching yours as if they’ll answer her questions that go unspoken. “Get some rest Wanda. I’ll be here.” You let your hand slip away as you stand up, moving to the other side of her room. Looking out the window.
Wanda laid back onto the bed, taking longer than usual to sleep, but eventually it came and you smiled at her sleeping form.
“I won’t let her touch you.” You whisper before making a round around the house, checking everything once again. It was going to be a long night.
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You stepped outside for a smoke, letting out a cloud when something caught your eye, just in the corner. You snap your head; gun in hand ready in an instant.
“Come out. Now.” You called and the figure came to the moonlight. Natasha. You didn’t falter though it being her threw you off and not Yelena or Kate or even Clint.
“You and I both know you won’t shoot.” Natasha says in a condescending manner. Your eyes narrow at her,
“You’re right I won’t, but not for the reason you’re assuming. I don’t want to wake up and scare the boys.” She laughs at your remark.
“Oh you’re funny Y/N. We both know you’ve never had the stomach. That’s why you ran away little girl.” You tilt your head to the side, neck cracking.
“That little girl’s gone. Honey I’ve changed so much since you last saw me.” She takes a few steps towards you.
“I think you’re in a little too deep sweetie, don’t you?” She says, but stops when you hold out the cash. “What’s that?”
“This is half of what Wanda owes you. You’re going to leave here right now with it and tomorrow I’ll give you the rest with interest and you’ll leave her alone. No more innocent lives need to ruined because of you Tasha.” She takes the money counting through it and laughs.
“You haven’t changed.” She said before turning on her heel. “Tomorrow. Noon. Our usual spot.” Once she was gone you could breath a sigh of relief as you headed back inside.
Softly carrying your tired body up the stairs. Stopping to check on the boys first before slipping into Wanda’s room. You slipped out of your pants and unbuttoned your top leaving you in just a tank top and panties.
You hadn’t shared a bed with someone since Natasha. You find yourself hesitating a moment before slipping in keeping as close to the edge with your gun just under the pillow. Wanda either had a really comfortable bed or you were just that exhausted because sleep took you almost instantly.
#ley speaks#ley writes#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#mob boss!Natasha#mob boss!natasha romanoff x reader#mob boss!natasha romanoff#mob boss!reader#Mob boss!Fem!Reader#fem!reader
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Never Be So Polite You Forget Your Power - N.R
Summary: After many years, Natasha has never felt so powerless until a decision was made. There was no way out in sight, but Natasha being a woman of power, pride, and determination, a new door towards the future she yearns for opens. With multiple sinful plans and ruthless games, she knew she would win it. But, will she? When a piece of pawn in the game of her father will get her caught up in so many ways she did not expect will trap her.
Author's Note: Part 2 is out! Did I forget to mention that Natasha is beefy here? (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ I apologize immediately for the wrong grammars and wordings, I didn't have much time to proofread since School have started already. 4.6k words.
Warnings: Warnings: Arranged marriage, cursing, violence, emotional abuse, physical abuse, deprivation of many things as a child, G!p Natasha
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3rd Person's POV:
"Natasha Romanoff, once again outdone herself with her new multi-million project that has been the talk of the town in the business world..."
"Tony Stark, our favorite philanthropist praised and I quote; "She is deadly, really deadly, but if she's up for a collaboration with my company, my name's up in the building, Ms. Romanoff, I am in favor of anything with you...."
"In a world of men, she is the only woman who can dominate the world like this..."
"Multiple companies have been trying to engage with Romanoff's corporation, but still, our lady kept silent, standing tall -alone."
"...you know, sometimes it makes me think how hard it is to compete with someone like her. God, you haven't even started, you're already losing."
"Men and women, lining up for the nation's favorite redhead with such determination... who would be lucky?"
"You know, if that is a person, they would be dead by now." A voice with a thick russian accent echoed throughout the huge gym room. A mix of silver and black lacing the walls with so much sophistication, heavy metals lining up the matted ground.
Another groan left the redhead's lips, not from how hard her punch was sent on the punching bag, but from annoyance and a bubbling anger building up towards the new presence inside the room. "Not like you would care about the bodies lining up on your ground." The blonde woman added, her hand wiping an invisible dirt on one of the biggest dumbbells that was by her side.
"What do you want, Yelena?" With her teeth gritted, she asked harshly towards the younger woman. Unwrapping the protective cloth that she was wearing around her knuckles.
Beads of sweat rolling down her toned body, heart chest heaved with each breath she took before bending down to get her water bottle, quickly taking huge chugs out of it. Her buff and muscular arms flexed as she did so.
"Mama and Papa's upstairs..." The blonde started, trailing off as she hesitated to continue what she was saying, waiting for her older sister's reaction, knowing that the information alone could explain why she stepped foot inside the monstrous house of her sister.
"Hmmm, well, might as well tell them they could leave anytime." The redhead said nonchalantly, turning on her heels, walking past the blonde girl with her head held up high, her steps heavy on the floor.
"Natasha-" Yelena started, only to be cut off by her sister.
"You're wasting your time, Yelena." Natasha snapped, still looking ahead with Yelena following her hot on her heels.
"Papa has a new proposal." She said quickly as soon as the redhead stopped talking.
Natasha's steps faltered for a moment, but she never stopped walking. With a frown on her head, she stayed quiet until her eyes landed on her parents that were sitting on the expensive couches of her living room.
"Ahhh, Natalia, good to see you again, darling. You should get ready and change into something more presenta-" Her father started, which caused the bubbling annoyance inside her to fill up more. Without hesitation, she stopped him from talking much more, knowing where it will lead.
"No. You already know that I am not in favor in your plans or whatever it is that you badly want-" Now, tables have turned, she was cut off by her mother.
"Natasha, listen to your father first." Melina said, intervening, the atmosphere around them changing into a more tensed scenery.
"What? No! All of you know I will never do whatever it is that you want me to do. That privileged of yours to just order me around was already gone years ago. Dad." She said, an edge on her voice at the end, looking at her father as she sat calmly on one of the single sofa she has.
The other two women sat in silence, as a dark humourous chuckle filled the air. "You know, I can take it all, Natalia." Her father started, standing up as he marched around the room with so much dominance in his aura, turning around to stand infront of his family, with the beautiful view of the beach outside.
Her daughter really does a have a taste, that he can't ever deny.
"I hope you still do remember, half of your company, is under my name. I take it, you'll be free to watch it burn on the ground. All of this?..." Her father taunted, a smirk on his face that Natasha couldn't wait more to wipe out when she can finally be able to scream out the success of the plan she's been making and waiting for so long. "You wouldn't have done it, without me..." Oh what a lie.
Natasha's jaw clenched, knowing she can't do anything but let herself received all the things that was coming out of her father. Not yet. Natasha have been building up her company for god knows how long, with her own determination and knowledge.
Her father's company is even 1 step behind from hers. But, knowing if she fought him back now, all her plan would be nothing but a dream.
"I have a new proposal, Natalia. Imagine, what you can do and get, if you got it all? Hmm? Also, having someone to be with you... for you to control, to use, while also getting everything you've ever wanted." Natasha frowned, her father's presence now beside her.
What her father was saying was very different from what he wanted from her. For her to combine her company to their family's company, which is owned by her father. She won't ever let someone touch what's hers, not ever her own blood. Her possession is her pride, she'll bleed first before it can be taken away from her touch.
"What are you saying?" She muttered, her eyes boring into her father's with such coldness that the two other women felt a chill ran down their spine.
"I'll get to the point..." Alexie started, breathing out with a smile that even Natasha couldn't figure out what was behind it. "Y/L/N's clan... Remember?" A hint behind Natasha's eyes glimmered.
They were one of the most known family in the business world, also one of the powerful people underground. She knows that their family has a bond with them years ago, but, she was too little to know much. Too innocent.
"They have a daughter. A nuptial from the both of you can bring us so much more. Imagine, Natalia..." Her father came closer while she continued to stay silent, her gaze scold and her lips tight in a line. "Imagine what power we can hold... What we can dominate in both of our worlds, with a union between the both of our families... Natalia, we will be unstoppable." Her father stated, Natasha thought of one word. A madman.
"Why me?" She questioned. "Why not Yelena?" She continued, throwing a gaze towards her little sister.
A humourous chuckle once again left Alexei. "You are better that her, Natalia. You know that. You..." Alexei came more close, Natasha leaned back, her face full of disgust, but it seemed to go unnoticed by her father.
Caressing her cheek, not noticing how her other daughter's face was filled with sadness. "You are my creation. I built you. Out of all people, I know it's you who can bring such honor in our family." Alexei smiled widely, pulling away as he stood tall with pride while Natasha continued to gaze towards the nothingness.
"You have no choice, Natalia..." With that, she looked up, her frown almost deep as the ocean as her heart pounded.
"Every documents have been made. Plans are being done. The only thing that's left is a feastful dinner with our soon to be extended family."
Everything stopped, the world seemed to have also stopped from turning. She wanted to scream, to yell, to thrash, but she was stuck in her place.
She knew, once her father had set his mind on something, it is to be made. But, when he already made an action, it was a complete different story. Nothing could stop him, god, not even her at this moment.
She thought quickly and know that if she interfered, everything she had worked hard for will turn into dust. Even the plan she was making outside her father's knowledge will be nothing.
As soon as she snapped out of the dazed she was in, she realized that she was finally left alone. That was when everything she was feeling came out of the bottle she was holding her emotion into. She threw the tumbler she was holding towards the expensive painting in the living room, causing the protective glass to crash on the ground. After that, she swiped off the vases that was beautifully set up on the small table beside the couch she was sitting on.
Her chest now heaved with so much anger, her jaws stayed clenched as her fist balled up.
She'll make him pay. Not yet, but soon enough. He will be underneath the ground she was walking on.
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Natasha's POV:
"That's the 5th girl you've brought home in just 4 days, Nat. Are you trying to break a record or something? Damn." I winced at the loud booming voice of Maria, Clint chuckling beside her as they came inside my office.
"If you don't shut your mouth, I will throw this glass of water in both of your faces." I grumbled, putting my hand up on my spacious office table, closing my eyes as I sigh.
"You always ovulate so hard when you're stressed." Clint stated, before I heard a small thump and yelped from Clint.
I frowned, opening my eyes to see them both trying to hold their laughter. "The heck are you talking about?" Rolling my eyes, I sat up, stretching my aching body.
"Why don't you just get this all done, god, we all know you can finish your dad in just one slam." Maria said, fake exhaustion lacing through her voice while Clint took his gun and started cleaning it.
"Hmm, you know I can't." I muttered, having absolutely no energy to talk about this again.
"Do you? Or you just don't want to?" I frowned at the sudden tone of Clint.
"Can you guys just get out? Why are you both even here? Where's Bucky? I told him to get me painkillers." I said in annoyance, rubbing both of my hands on my face harshly, as if it would make the thumping pain on my head go away.
"Well, he said we would guide the girl out, guess after that he went to make 'Stevie' some breakfast." Clint said, Maria chuckled along with him and I rolled my eyes, already getting used to their antics and behaviors.
They've been with me for years already, they are close to what I can call home. They are the ones whom I trust the most, with everything I have.
"Oh, by the way, that girl- who is she again, Clint?" Maria started, and I looked at her with my brows still frowning.
"Mary?" Clint said, still focusing on his gun.
"No, no. Clara? No, something close to that. The one who called earlier!" Maria exaggerated.
"Ohhh, the girl who kept calling you because Nat gave your number instead of hers? It's Carol." He said nonchalantly and I rolled my eyes at the memory, putting my face in both of my hands again.
"Yeah, that one. She went here earlier wanting to talk to you, but Bucky said after she saw the girl walked out of her, she went away immediately. She even screamed at Bucky's face to tell you that you're an asshole." Maria stated, chuckling as she said the story.
I grumbled, not even remembering what that Carol looks like. Maybe one of those girl who wanted more of me.
"Bucky should've praised her." Clint side commented with a smirk on his face.
"I don't have time for those. Is there a news from the greatest father of all time?" I asked, leaning back on my soft office chair, crossing my arms as I look to the both of them.
I saw how they gaze at each other, signaling to tell whatever it is. I raised one of my eyebrows, indicating that I am waiting, and they know how much I hate to wait.
"Well- that was actually why we're here." Maria started before looking over at Clint once again.
"They're here." Clint blurted out which made me frown and falter for a moment.
"And they want you to come with them. It's time, Nat." I sat up straight, gripping both sides of my chair.
"What? He can't work that fast!?" I exclaimed, my frown deepening as I did so.
"You know Alexei, Nat. He probably pulled some strings just to get it done quickly." Maria shrugged.
God, I am surely not ready for that to happen so quickly. It hasn't been a month since the news was dropped on me like a truck from the sky.
But, maybe... This is a sign. As quickly this would come will be result for my plans to get started and done immediately.
"Get everything ready. If they want to do this now, well then I guess I have no choice but to finish this sooner."
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3rd Person's POV:
Natasha and her family sat at the luxurious table, along with Phoveus and Carmilla. As the elders chatted away about everything, mostly about business, Natasha and Yelena sat quietly, with Yelena eating whatever finger food she could reach as Natasha sat with a distant and cold look visible in her face. Looking like she would rather to be anywhere but here.
A hurried voice interrupted through the atmosphere around them, but Natasha never looked up, her eyes stayed glued to the platters that held foods that was probably cooked by one of the highest paid chef around the area. "Madam, Sir, your daughter is here." A familiar voice echoed throughout the large dining area.
"Ahhh, Y/n, come here, sweetheart." Again, Natasha didn't do anything, if anyone would throw her a glance, none of them would have the courage to talk to her or even approach her.
But, if they would only see what was going on inside the redhead's mind as it run miles and miles with her lower stomach doing flips upon hearing the unexpected name.
Y/n.
Y/n.
Looking up, her eyes immediately landed on the woman who she had a vague memory of, but know too well at the same time. Her breath caught up in her throat, making a lump to form that she can't seem to clear. With her heart thumping its way out of her chest, after finally putting a face on the name, she remembered one thing.
"Sweetheart, this is Alexei and Melina... remember them?" Y/n nodded, staying silent but gave off a small smile and a wave, not used to the attention she was receiving as one of the men pulled a chair for her to sit on.
Hiding her casted arms underneath the table, as she thought deeply what the occasion was all about, her eyes averting to Lucy through her lashes who stayed standing far behind the people that was infront of her. Gulping an invisible form that was sitting inside her throat she muttered a greeting. "Hi..."
Unaware of the weary eyes that was set on her figure that was glimmering with such familiarity.
There were a couple of conversations that went on, with Y/n not clearly understanding what is it all about, only sitting quietly, playing with her finger, silently hoping for this to be all over.
Upon looking up and gazing around her surroundings, her eyes stopped at a certain redhead, who she thought was looking at her for a mere moment. A small frown appeared around the creased in between her eyebrows, a small tug of string in her memory as she tries to remember where she might have met her, or if she even met her already before.
She doubted, barely having the chance to go out as a child. Barely having the chance to live her life.
Her eyes continues to graze along the beautiful woman that was sitting in front of her. She may look a little bit intimidating, but to Y/n, there was a familiarity in her heart, a familiarity that screams something good. Enough for her to feel some sort of comfort towards the redhead, some sort of a breath of a fresh air.
She was really pretty, Y/n thought. Especially her short hair that looked almost fake with how perfect it seemed to be.
Her gaze faltered for a moment, catching a glimpse of the set of green eyes landing on hers as more foods was being put on the table, as if the foods that was already on it was not enough for the people in the table.
Her eyes, of course, finally taking in every food that was presented in front of them. Her, oh so, familiar hungry eyes, once again, tug a string on Natasha's mind, her jaw clenching as the annoying and blurry memories came rushing in once again.
She looked like she would devour every food in the table as soon as she could eat. But, with her doe eyes that held such innocence, Natasha, now felt a tug, not on her mind, but in her heart.
A familiar tug that she had felt years ago when she looked into the same pair of eyes. Shaking her head and averting her attention, Natasha cleared her throat and composed herself, breathing through her nose as she tries to wash away the thoughts that was eating her up like a virus.
"Today..." Y/n looked up upon hearing the booming noice of her father's voice, holding up a glass of an expensive wine. "Today marks the start of unending victory and success to both of our family." She watched as the elders cheers, clinking of glasses could be heard, her eyes averting on the redhead and the blonde who only leaned their glasses towards where the others were meeting. She felt so out of place.
So, she took a hold of her glass, the one filled with what seemed like a fresh squeeze of orange juice, just how she likes it, holding it up. A blush on her face appeared, embarrassed on how she might have looked so stupid, immediately putting the glass down, her head did the same, finding the golden platter much more interesting.
Again, oblivious to the set of eyes that was burning holes through the side of her head. Fighting off a smirk that wants to be let out, Natasha cleared her throat again, listening to Phoveus ramble about the upcoming union that will be held for the both of them as they started to eat.
Upon looking at the man, her eyes once again averted to the younger woman who was sitting beside him. She saw how the girl's munching on the food suddenly faltered, looking up at her father confusedly, so much curiosity in her eyes but seems like there was no answer coming up.
Her eyes looked like they held no thoughts behind it, as she looked down, Natasha noticed one her arm that has a cast around it and frowned before her eyes averted to the young woman's face.
She saw how deep she was thinking, trailing her eyes on every food that was on her plate, trailing the designs that adorned it, as if it would give her the answer.
Wasn't she aware of what was happening? Natasha thought, only to be snapped out of her daze as she heard the sudden screech of the chair, and a soft voice, pardoning an excuse, muttering about going to the bathroom real quick.
"...she'll managed, don't worry. You won't ever hear a word from her, trust me." Her eyes landed on the disgusting smile that was present on Phoveus face.
"Would it be more easy if Y/n knows about this? I mean... this is a lot... to be honest. And... she's so young." Natasha frowned upon hearing what her mother had said, for the first time finally catching up on what they were talking about, her ears ringing as she caught what they were pertaining to.
"Nah... just trust me on this one. She would agree to everything we would say. I mean, if it weren't for us, she wouldn't be having a life like this..." Natasha's eyes caught a movement from behind Phoveus, a shift from one of the maids that looks like the head of something inside this manor. She saw the hardened gaze of the woman on the back of Phoveus's head, her jaw clenching like a steel. "If she does see eye to eye to what we attained her to be, she know exactly what would happen." A laugh that sounded almost like the devil came out of the man, her father following by, nodding his head unconsciously.
"You trained her well, Phov." Her father said which fueled to the news she just received.
Before anyone could utter a word, she sat up straight, blurting out words. "She doesn't know?" Natasha's cold voice echoed throughout the atmosphere, and it, alone, changed the tension around the room.
Melina shifted uncomfortably, Yelena's chewing faltered for a moment as all the eyes was set on hers. "God, how old even is she? You can't expect me to marry someone without their consent. Let alone marrying someone who has not come of age." She ranted, her voice in monotone as her cold and hardened eyes gaze around the people that was sat with her on the table.
"She's eighteen, Natasha." Carmilla said, an uncomfortable smile playing on her face as she tried to calm the growing tension inside the room.
"Her parents has the consent, you don't have to worry about that, Natalia." Her father added, causing her fist to balled up, her face finally showing a slight emotion.
"Everything is all set, all of you won't have anything to worry about. My daughter knows where her place is, and I'm sure, you guys won't want to back out from everything... right?" Phoveus taunted, her face getting serious before a laughter from Alexei filled the air.
"Of course, of course, now, why don't we just enjoy this lovely dinner." With that, the young woman entered the room, Natasha was left with so many unsaid words.
She wanted to protest and say her part freely, but the new presence inside the room somehow made her back up. Her tensed shoulder relaxed as she watched the girl sit back to where she was sitting earlier, her head down as she gripped the spoon with her one hand, her other hand stayed underneath the table, as a new flow of conversation as thrown in the middle of the dining table.
Swallowing the words, she stood up, excusing herself without any more explanation coming out of her mouth. Before anyone had the chance to say anything, she was met with the wind blowing through the large patio that gives her the best view of the backyard.
Putting both of her hands on the railing, she took a deep breath, stretching her neck from side to side to release that stress that was building up like waves.
It felt like there was something pinching her insides at the thought of you. You've grown so much, grown so different... yet still the same. Grown so beautiful, still like a porcelain doll. God, how could they treat you like that? Like a puppet, no reason to be heard or to be seen. She felt almost guilty, feeling so down about the arranged nuptial, but what about you? Who doesn't even know what tomorrow will bring.
Her fist clenched as her breathing became labor, seeing you again, it brought so many things to her. Things she didn't know she would feel... again. She may be too young before, but she was already being trained to be something more. She was not innocent or naive about what she was feeling.
My, she can't feel like this! She wouldn't get any benefit from feeling like this for you. It has been years, you might not even remember her. She's nothing to you and you are absolutely nothing to her. You were just a pawn in your parents game, and she wouldn't be like you. No, she would never be like you.
"...for you to control... to use." Her father's words rang inside her head. Her jaw clenched, thinking how dumb her father was, how ugly his personality is and how high his ego.
She's nothing like him. Nothing like anyone. She may be ruthless, cold, hardened by the years, but she would never, ever do something like that to someone so innocent... especially someone like Y/n.
Shaking her head to throw away her thoughts, she breathed in and out. She should stop thinking like this, she should not think like this. Not to anyone, especially not to someone who means nothing to her.
The creaking of the large doors made Natasha's ears perked up, following by the sound of footsteps she had learned after years of growing together. "Needed a breather?" The voice of her little sister rattled in her ears.
Natasha let out a rather harsh sigh, rolling her eyes as she stood up straight. "What do you want, Yelena?" Natasha asked, ignoring the question that was thrown at her.
"Hmm..." Yelena only replied with a hum, stepling forward to step beside her sister. Her big sister whom she looked up to while growing up. "Was it hard?" She added in the midst of silence, looking up at Natasha briefly before gazing at the scenery in front of them.
A confused frown appeared on Natasha's face, her eyes narrowing as she tries to figure out what she was referring to. Upon sensing her sister's hesitance in replying, she continued. "Learning to live your own life... fighting your demons..." There was a whole paused as Natasha waited while Yelena contemplated how to put her words together. "... finally having the chance to make up your own decisions and choices?" Words hang around the atmosphere.
Natasha may be looking at the vast space in front of her but her mind is elsewhere, so as Yelena's. She knew, they both knew how hard it was growing up, especially with their lifestyle and a father like Alexei. They weren't given a choice, just as how they weren't giver a choice while growing up. Natasha couldn't whisk out why Yelena is asking her that, they weren't used to this kind of conversation, something so personal... so vulnerable. But, she found herself building up words to tell.
Natasha's demeanor faltered for a moment, before she started speaking. "Everything is hard. It's all complicated. Nothing will seem right, especially while growing up..." Natasha started, slouching down to rest her elbows on the railings, gazing intently towards the green grass and trees that surrounded the backyard. "You could get lost... not knowing where you want to be-... who you want to be. It has been hard, it still is. What is worse... is not having your own choice. Not being able to control your own actions. Your own decisions." She let out a chuckle, maybe it was just the wine taking cover of her whole system, god has she been drinking that much? She's not a lightweight, that's for sure.
"You know... I'd rather-... I'd rather die than to live for someone else." There was a big blow of a wind. She received no reply from the shorter woman, as Yelena only gaze at nothing, her heart and mid in a raging storm.
For a moment, Natasha felt so weak, so vulnerable. Everything is coming at her, once again, she let someone control her, but then again, it is for the better, right? She was choking in her own words of wisdom, finding no way to recover but to spit it out.
The familiar sound of the glassy door opening reached their hearing once again, but this time, there was an unfamiliar footsteps. Yelena shifted to look behind them while Natasha only closed her eyes while taking a deep breath, god, she'd do anything just to get away from her.
"I'll-... I'll check on mom." Yelena muttered, excusing herself before walking pass the smaller woman with a small smile on her face appearing, something to exchange the welcoming smile of the girl.
"Na-... Natalia?"
°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~
Author's Note: Gollyyyyy! Finally, I'm able to post this ಠ︵ಠ Been sitting on my draft for too long, something came up earlier after I showered that concerns about my school ¯\_ಠ_ಠ_/¯ but, nowwww here it is! I am very very sleepy right now, so this is not proofread, I'm sorry, but I hope you guys enjoy! ಠᴥಠ
Tags: @transparentflapfarmsludge @dvrkhcld @esposadejoyhuerta @natsxwife @justspance @cheekysnake-blog @wandasreallover
#lhecxzsa#natasha marvel#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff angst#natasha romanoff fanfic#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha x reader
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𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 x GN Reader
⤷ warnings — everyone is depressed :), masterpost
—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who hates his work so much and despises the fact that he has to stay involved unless he wants his hard work in protecting you crushed down.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is a ruthless man nonetheless, stepping on anyone's fingers who tries to graze you with his boots, watching them wailing and trying to wriggle out of it.
"Such bug must really be squashed dead huh?"
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who will sometimes take the belongings of his dead enemies for you to collect. Whatever it is that manages to catch his and your interest is as good as yours now.
"You know, how about we make a deal? Give me this thing and I'll let you die in a more peaceful and easy way."
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who hates the idea of seeing even a soul sneering at you. Anyone who makes the slightest bit of rude remarks toward you will be faced with his fist immediately, no matter where they are.
"Say. That. Again. And. I. Will. Make. Sure. You. Can't. Talk. Anymore."
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is not a talkative man but will always tell you about his day as he strokes your hair, watching you sleep peacefully. He doesn't like telling people about himself but all that is thrown out of the window when it comes to you.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is indeed a loyal man, never indulging himself in the parties where women and men are involved with each other.
"Never seen ya' with anyone wrapped around your arm. Come get a taste of it!"
"If I were you, I'd immediately run along before I make you taste my gun's bullet."
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who is tired of living, had it not been for you, he would have long chosen to kill himself and after you into oblivion. But that would simply mean he is wasting away all the troubles he had gone through just for his current standing.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who can never rest in peace because of you and the organization he's leading. He shouldn't have taken this position, and shouldn't have shot the previous ringleader down after the revolution he led. But he needs power and being that man's right-hand man wasn't enough.
"ELEANOR! IS THIS HOW A DOG SUPPOSED TO REPAY HIS MASTER'S KINDNESS?!"
"... Hey, unfortunately enough... I have never even once considered you to be my 'Master'. I'll let you go with your pride still intact, see you again."
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to tend the garden in place for your bedridden state. You love flowers and it truly would be a shame if the flowers have to wilt because no one takes care of it. Well... never mind that he'll just ask the gardener to tend it again later when he's absent.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who watches how the house that was once white slowly darkens into pitch black, just like how he is dragged deeper into the underground world. Reality and Fantasy, these are truly a shackle of curse to him.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to sit in front of the grandfather's clock, sipping his share of tea while flipping through the album photo of you two. All was great until you decided to commit something foolish that dragged him into the underworld.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to stroke your hair absentmindedly, watching you sleep while your chest heaves up and down. Always sleeping and never awake. He enjoys humming the lullaby that you have always been fond of, hoping that it'll somehow reach your ears.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who likes to play the Russian roulette with himself, will the dice finally choose to take him? Nonetheless, the dice is kind enough to make him survive for another day to take care of you.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who can not sleep in peace as he cradles your limp body, worries endowed in him as the thought of his enemies slipping into his manor and taking you away from him. They know a better way to kill him after all, and that is by taking you hostage rather than torturing him to death.
𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 who will always make sure that you are breathing, his ear placed on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. The idea of your life slipping away from your comatose body terrifies him.
"... Good night." Eleanor places a kiss on your forehead before hugging your body, the two of you hiding beneath the cover of a blanket.
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