#Serial Killer Natasha Romanoff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wandanatsgf · 8 months ago

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Scream

Pairing: Serial Killer!Natasha x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: After the gruesome murder of your fellow classmates, Jean and Charles, everyone is on high alert. The police tell everyone to stay inside, but your friends decide a party is just what you all need. It's not like the killer will be there, right?

Warnings: This is very lightly based off of scream, but I obviously changed things and made it my own. This contains killing, kidnapping, knife kink, blood licking, mommy kink, restraints, slapping, degradation, praise, knife fucking (the handle), thigh riding, noncon, finger sucking, cum eating, dacryphilia, and fingering. I think that's everything, but I might have missed something. I wrote this in an hour so please ignore any mistakes. This is also my first time writing something dark, so I hope you enjoy :)

"Come on baby, are you sure you don't want to go to the party?" your girlfriend asks you as you sit on some benches outside. "It'll only be us, Wanda, Tony, Steve, Bucky, Sam, Carol, and Vision."

"Yes, Natasha I am. I don't want to get killed," you explain for the umpteenth time.

"Please baby. I'll be there to protect you." Your girlfriend flexes her muscles as she says this. You let out a little laugh, although your girlfriend's gun show has got you a little hot and bothered.

"Fine Natty. I'll go but you better protect me." Your finger digs into her chest slightly as you point a finger at her, trying to get your point across.

"Don't worry baby. I'll always protect you," she says. She leans in and kisses you on the lips and you reciprocate.

"I'll see you tonight then," Nat says.

"I guess you will," you say. You both walk off to class, walking together until you have to go opposite ways.

Once you get home you quickly get ready for the party. You throw on a short dress and some heels before walking out the door. The drive to Tony Stark's mansion, where the party is being held, is quick. You're there before you know it. You park your car next to your friend's cars and walk inside.

"Hey Y/n you made it!" your friend Bucky says.

"Yeah I did. Natasha actually convinced me to go. Speaking of her have you seen her?"

"I did earlier. She's around here somewhere, but I'm not sure where."

"Thanks Buck," you say. You make your way around the house in search of you red-headed lover.

You search everywhere for her when you finally see her coming out of the garage with a bottle of wine in her hands.

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you," you say.

"Sorry baby. I just needed another drink," she says.

"What happened there?" you ask, pointing at the red stain on your girlfriend's shirt.

"Tony got a little too drunk and spilled some wine on me."

"Of course, he would do that," you say, laughing at his drunken antics.

"Come here princess." Natasha pulls you against her with one hand while the other holds her bottle. She presses a kiss to your lips and she tastes like the wine she has been drinking.

"Come here baby. I wanna dance with you," Natasha says. She pulls you against her body with one hand while the other holds on to her bottle. Your hips move together to the beat. You feel yourself get lost in the music until a scream breaks you out of your trance. You look around to see the source of the scream when a white-faced Carol emerges from the bathroom. Everyone gathers around to look, and the sight makes you sick. Wanda and Vision are laying in the tub, dead. They both have stab wounds right to the heart, they stood no chance.

"Oh my god," you let out. You can hear someone throwing up in the background and you're unsure if it's from the alcohol or the sight before you.

"We need to get out of here," you here Sam say. He tries the front door, but it won't budge. You all run to the back door and that too is stuck.

"Guys we're trapped," Tony says. You could've heard a pin drop.

You can hear Bucky start to freak out, and you don't blame him. You're starting to freak out too.

"What are we going to do Nat?" you ask your girlfriend.

"We just need to find a way out," she says. "We should split up and try all the exits. All the windows, doors, everything."

"Are you sure that's safe Natasha?" Carol asks.

"What choice do we have? It's that or wait for the killer to attack."

"She has a good point," you hear Steve say.

"We'll split up. Carol and Sam try the garage. Bucky, Tony, and I will try upstairs, and Natasha and Y/n can try down here," Steve says. Everyone agrees, although some reluctantly, to the plan.

As you and Natasha explore the ground floor, you hear a loud thud come from upstairs.

"What was that?" you ask.

"I'm sure it was nothing baby," Natasha says, trying to soothe you.

"I'm scared Nat. I don't wanna die."

"Hey you're not gonna die baby. Remember what I said? I'll be here to protect you, okay?"

"Okay Nat," you agree.

The two of you continue to hear more thuds coming from upstairs, making you jump more and more.

"I'm going to go see if everything's alright with them," Natasha says.

"But what about me?" you ask.

"Stay in here," Natasha says, leading you to the pantry.

"I'll be right back," she says. She closes the pantry door and leaves you in total silence. You hear someone let out a scream and then you hear someone fall down the stairs, you're praying it's not Natasha.

You can feel your breathing getting shallower as you start to freak out.

"Please let Natasha be alright," you think to yourself.

After what feels like forever Natasha reappears, covered in blood.

"Oh my god what happened?" you ask.

"He killed them all Y/n/n. He's crazy," she says.

"Who?"

"Steve. He killed Bucky and Tony. I don't know how Carol and Sam are." You can hear her breathing harshly.

"We need to get out of here now," you say. You walk up to the nearest window, praying it will open. You have no such luck.

"Damn it," you let out.

"Come on baby. We need to keep moving," your girlfriend says. "Let's go find the others," she says. The two of you cautiously move through the house, careful of every step you take.

The two of you eventually reach the garage door that leads from the house into the garage. Natasha puts herself in front of you as she opens the door. She lets out a gasp at the sight. Carol and Sam are laying there dead.

"Oh my god. This can't be happening," you cry out.

You can feel yourself start to hyperventilate. You run over to the garage door and pull at it, begging it to open. Natasha runs over and does the same, but nothing works.

"Come on baby we need to try something else," she says. The two of you leave the garage and you walk past the staircase. At the top of the staircase stands Steve, covered in blood with tears streaming down his face. The two of you make eye contact and you bolt off towards the living room.

"We need to find some weapons or something," Natasha says as she joins you. The two of you start to search as you hear Steve's thunderous steps make their way down.

"I've got one," you say, pulling a gun out of a couch cushion. You knew that Tony kept weapons hidden throughout the house in case of intruders because of how rich he is. You have no idea how to handle the gun, but right now you can't be more grateful to have found it.

You aim the gun at the doorway just as Steve walks through it.

"What are you doing Y/n?" Steve asks.

"Stopping you, you monster!"

"I'm not the monster here Y/n, she is," Steve says, gesturing at Natasha. You don't know what to do, so you back away from both of them.

"Baby, you can't believe I'm the killer. He's the killer," she says, pointing at Steve. He has blood smeared down the front of his shirt and pants. He's holding a knife that drips blood onto the once clean hardwood floors. The evidence is stacked against him.

"I'm sorry," you say as you point the gun. It goes off with a loud bang and Steve is thrown across the room. His white shirt is quickly painted crimson as he bleeds out. Now it's only you and Natasha left to find a way out of this building.

You collapse on the ground. You can feel tears falling down your face. Natasha walks behind you and wraps her arms around your waist. You think the gesture is loving, but you're so wrong.

"Guess what baby? You chose wrong," Natasha says. That's when you feel the knife against your throat.

"I was going to cut this pretty little neck open, but I just can't do that to my pretty little baby," Nat whispers in your ear. You can feel yourself shaking and trembling.

"Now I just want to see you crying and screaming as I fuck you," she says. She lifts you up and takes you to a bedroom with you fighting the whole way there. She quickly ties you to the bed with your legs and arms spread.

"You look so beautiful like this baby. All spread out and vulnerable for me." You feel her gaze sweep across your body, and it makes you want to cringe.

"Now we need to get these clothes out of the way," she says. She drags the knife from the top of your dress to the bottom, quickly removing it from your body.

She stares at you while you're completely naked except for your white cotton underwear. "I bet you'd look so pretty covered in blood baby." You had just stopped crying, but this thought made you want to cry all over again.

"I think you'd like that though. You want me to hurt you, don't you princess?" You shake your head no begging her to just let you go, bot to hurt you, something Natasha doesn't like.

"That's not the correct answer baby." You feel the coldness of the blade as she drags it down your cheek. A little bubble of blood pools there, but Natasha is quick to lick it up.

"Let's try that again," she says. Natasha asks you the question again and this time you nod your head yes. This time Natasha seems pleased.

"That's my good girl. I knew you would," she says. Natasha moves to straddle your left thigh and you can feel the heat coming off of her fully clothed pussy. She starts to grind down on your thigh, letting out a low moan.

"You look so pretty below me baby," Natasha says. "But you'd look so much better with a red face and tears rolling down your cheeks." Before you have time to react Natasha slaps your cheek again and again. You can feel tears cascading down your face.

"That's it baby. Let them fall," Natasha says. She starts to grind against your thigh faster, her words coming out in breathy moans.

"You just look so pretty when you cry," Natasha says. She slaps you again and you start sobbing, unable to control yourself.

"There you go baby. Just like that," she says. She lets out a high-pitched moan as she cums against your leg.

"That's my good girl. Making her mommy so happy," Natasha coos. She gently cups your face and licks your tears away. "Such a good girl for me."

Natasha gets off of your leg and grabs her knife again. You feel yourself tense up at the sight. She walks over to the bed and settles herself so that she's on top of you.

"It's okay baby. You can scream, I don't mind," Natasha says as she drags the knife down your body. You want to scream and moan at the same time. This is so wrong, but god does it feel so good.

"Natasha," you let out.

"Yes princess?"

"Please," you beg. You're not sure if you're begging her to let you go or to fuck you.

"What is it baby? You want me to fuck this sloppy little pussy of yours? You want mommy to fuck you stupid?" She drags the knife further and further towards your core, leaving slight scratches wherever she went.

You feel your anxiety rise as the blade scratches your inner thigh.

"What's wrong baby? You don't like mommy showing you attention?"

"I-I love it mommy," you say, saying whatever you know Natasha would like.

"That's my good girl. I knew you would," she says. She cuts away your underwear, completely exposing you to her.

"Look at this wet little pussy," Natasha says. She scoops up your wetness with her fingers and shoves them into your mouth. You suck on them, hating that she had made you so wet.

"You're taking my fingers so good baby. Just like the good little whore you are." She pushes her fingers farther into your mouth and you start to gag. She roughly fucks your mouth until she is satisfied. She removes them from your mouth and wipes the excess spit on your pussy.

"I've got to get you warmed up for my knife baby," she explains. You go rigid, but Natasha pays this no mind. She shoves one of her spit slicked fingers into your core. You let out an involuntary moan at the intrusion.

"Fuck baby you're taking me so well," she says as she adds another finger. You feel a slight burn, but the burn is quickly overtaken by pleasure.

"Fuck mommy," you moan out.

"That's it baby. Take my fingers." She roughly fucks them in and out of your tight hole, paying your comfort no mind. She adds a third finger, and you cry out at the stretch.

"Fuck," you scream.

"That's such a good girl," Natasha says. "Doing so good for me."

You can feel an impending orgasm as she thrusts into you again and again.

"Mommy. I need-," she cuts you off by removing her fingers from you. You whine at the lost. She slaps you across the face.

"Good girls take what they are given," she says. "And you want to be my good girl, don't you?"

"Yes mommy," you let out.

"That's a good girl," Natasha says. She grabs her knife that she had discarded on the nightstand and grabs the blade with her right hand. She moves her hand down towards your core and slowly moves the handle through your slit.

"Please fuck me mommy," you beg. Natasha roughly pushes the whole handle into you in one thrust. You moan out.

"Your little pussy is just eating my fucking knife baby," you hear Natasha moan out. She continues to roughly fuck you as your moans get louder and louder. You can feel yourself clench around the handle as you get close.

"Please can I cum mommy?" you beg.

"Cum for me princess, cum all over my knife," she says. That's all it takes for her to send you over the edge. Your body shudders as a powerful orgasm makes its way through you.

"You look so pretty baby but now you need to clean up your mess." Natasha holds the knife up. You see blood dripping down her hand from where she was gripping the blade too tight.

"Come on baby clean my knife handle. Lick it clean," she says. She holds the knife handle to your mouth and you gingerly lick it up and down.

"That's it, baby. Lick the knife that ended your friend's lives." You can feel bile making its way up your throat. "That's my good girl," she praises. She sets the knife down and goes to untie your shaking legs. Once she unties your legs, she unties your arms but quickly ties your arms and thighs together after she slips a robe that she found over your nude body.

"Now come on baby, we've got to go," she says. She ignores the way you're trembling in fear as holds the knife to your back. She walks, more like drags, you down the steps and to the front door. Your steps are slow from where Natasha had tied your thighs together. Eventually she gives up and just picks you up.

She pulls a key from her pocket and opens the door with it.

The two of you walk outside as Natasha walks you to her car. She tries to push you in, but you don't budge.

"Get in the fucking car, Y/n." Her voice is sharp and leaves no room for disobeying, yet that's what you do.

"No," you let out.

"No?" she screams out. She grabs you by the hair and opens her car's trunk. She roughly shoves you inside and locks it, preventing you from getting out.

Natasha hops into the driver's seat and quickly pulls out of Tony's driveway.

You can tell she's speeding down the road and you soon realize why. You can hear siren's going in the other direction, the direction of Tony's house. She wants to escape and take you with her.

You move around the small trunk, trying to find a way out. Unfortunately there is no way out. You can feel all of your energy leaving you with every move you make. You can feel yourself starting to black out and you give in to the darkness, admitting to yourself that you'll never escape Natasha.

#natasha x reader smut #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #mcu #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #dark!natasha x reader #serial killer!natasha x reader

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daddynattt · 16 days ago

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yes please 😍

im such a sucker for mob boss!nat because like, badass woman who can kill someone quickly, but i've been thinking of serialkiller!nat with innocent!bestfriend!reader. Like hear me out real quick? You're completely oblivious to who the woman beside you is, she works alone, and word has spread that there's a killer on the loose and whats more odd? Its people you all know that went missing to be found dead in the city. Your poor neighbor is gone; you found out she was killed when the police came by to interview you and you were shaken and in tears because not only was your neighbor the sweetest, she brought treats like cookies and pie over because you struggled to cook sweet treats. After the police were gone Natasha shows up afterwards everytime to soothe you. Imagine Natasha asking you frequently weird questions like, "What would you feel if I slaughtered you right now?" And you do nothing but try to laugh it off, anxious enough to go "Funny joke," and you don't even know she's joking. But she always affirms at the end, "Don't worry princess, I'd never kill you," And you totally believe her because Natasha has grown to be the woman in your circle, the first person to go to when a situation rises at work, the person to go to when your friends ghost you (after they get terrifying messages from a blocked number with threats about interacting with you) and its always her that you end up cuddling with at the end of movie nights and refuse to let her go because this? This is all she wants. Just you. It also isn't the fact that she is always there when you aren't in the right mindset, you feel shitty and wanna end it all? Natasha randomly shows up and does stupid activities with you. And she shows up with your favorite snacks And the only time you find out is when she takes advantage of your drunk mind, and shes lazily thrusting her fingers up into your cunt and all you hear is, "Mmm, I wonder how your friends would've felt if they were in my position right now. But it's too bad they can't, I had to forcibly get rid of those who was in my way, blood in my hands or not," and you're too even cumdrunk to even recognize what she said, too focused on the pleasure that she openly admitted to killing all of those close to you. ugh, i might write this, might not.

#natasha romanoff x reader #serial killer nat

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months ago

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Ley's Kinktober Masterlist || 2024

Header image credit: @hopelesslygaysstuff

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

🕸Coming Soon🕸

🎃 October 1st

Temp play (Soft!Daddy!Yelena Belova x bratty!fem!reader)

🎃 October 2nd

Piercing (Dom!Wandanat x sub!fem!reader)

🎃 October 3rd

Pet play (Puppy!Kate Bishop x Domme!Fem!Reader)

🎃 October 4th

Watersports (Mean!Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader)

🎃 October 5th

Bondage (Domme!Maria Hill x subby!fem!reader)

🎃 October 6th

A/B/O (dom!alpha!Agatha Harkness x omega!reader)

🎃 October 7th

Markings (Agatha Harkness x fem!reader)

🎃 October 8th

Praise kink (Carol Danvers x fem!reader)

🎃 October 9th

Flogging (Dom!Scarlet Witch x subby!fem!reader)

🎃 October 10th

Overstimulated (Soft Mommy!Agatha Harkness x Mean Daddy!Rio Vidal x fem!reader)

🎃 October 11th

Knife and gun play (Mob!Boss Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader)

🎃 October 12th

Breath play (Bishova x fem!reader)

🎃 October 13th

Collaring (Stepmom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader)

🎃 October 14th

Gangbang (Mob boss!Wandanat, Carol, Val, and Kate x fem!reader)

🎃 October 15th

Hair pulling (Valkyrie x fem!reader)

🎃 October 16th

Lactation (Step Mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader)

🎃 October 17th

Period sex (Wandanat x fem!reader)

🎃 October 18th

Shower sex (Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader)

🎃 October 19th

Mirror sex (Wandanat x fem!reader)

🎃 October 20th

Stockholm (Dark!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader)

🎃 October 21st

Monster fucking (Tentacle!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader)

🎃 October 22nd

Thigh riding (Dom!Kate Bishop x subby!fem!reader)

🎃 October 23rd

Breeding (G!P!Natsha Romanoff x fem!reader)

🎃 October 24th

Somnophilia (Dark Witch!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader)

🎃 October 25th

Pussy slapping (Domme!Maria Hill x fem!reader)

🎃 October 26th

Edge play (Corrupted!Wanda Maximoff x innocent!fem!reader)

🎃 October 27th

Lap dances (G!P!Natasha Romanoff x stripper!fem!reader)

🎃 October 28th

Phone sex (Carol Danvers x fem!reader)

🎃 October 29th

Hunter/Prey (Stalker!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader)

🎃October 30th

Aphrodisiac (Valkyrie x fem!reader)

🎃October 31st

Masks (Serial killer!Kate Bishop x innocent!fem!reader)

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kujousgf · 9 months ago

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EVERLONG. mdni. 18+.

dream girl evil universe

pairing: rockstar!natasha romanoff + yelena's best friend!reader

summary: you hadn't expected yelena's natasha to be the natasha

warnings: fluff, partial smut, light angst for like a second, top!natasha, bottom!reader, really they're just very sweet

wc: 2.5k

You freeze in the kitchen of Yelena’s apartment, seeing a redhead that you don’t recognize sitting on the couch in the living room. You briefly wonder if Yelena had had a breakdown and dyed her hair without telling you. That would explain today’s radio silence even though usually your phone was blowing up asking when you would finally be done with your classes and come make her dinner. It was Monday night and usually you’d come over to Yelena’s apartment to make dinner and watch whatever movie Yelena chose. Sometimes her girlfriend Kate would come over, but Yelena liked to keep Monday nights for ‘best friend time’ as she liked to call it. You hesitantly hang your bag on the hook by the door and close it behind you. Hopefully you didn’t just close yourself in with a serial killer or something.

At the sound of the door closing, the redhead turns her head and your jaw almost drops when you make eye contact. Natasha Romanoff is sitting in Yelena’s living room.

What the hell is Natasha Romanoff doing sitting in Yelena’s living room?

The redhead is the lead guitarist and singer in what most magazines and articles are calling ‘one of the most popular female rock bands in the past twenty years.’ Even if someone doesn’t know Spellbound’s music, they’d know Natasha. She’s recently been a hot topic of the internet, having been caught on video punching one of her bandmate, Wanda’s, exes in the face after they wouldn’t stop harassing her. The video spread like wildfire, most people on Natasha’s side and other’s calling her a bitch, saying she shouldn’t get involved. You, of course, were on Natasha’s side.

She doesn’t seem at all concerned, just raises an eyebrow at the continued silence when you don’t say anything. “You’re not Yelena.” Is what you say, lamely, when you can finally get your brain to connect to your vocal chords. “Not the last time I checked, no. As far as I can tell neither are you.”

“It’s Monday night.” You say as if that would be any explanation at all as to why you’re in Yelena’s apartment. Natasha stands from the couch, putting the bottle of beer she was drinking down on Yelena’s coffee table. “Right,” she nods in agreement, “but that doesn’t explain what you’re doing in my sister’s apartment.” You almost choke on your own spit at Natasha’s words. Yelena’s Natasha was the Natasha?

As if to save you from whatever wrath the redhead was going to unleash on you for being a stranger in her sister’s apartment, Yelena emerges from her bedroom. “Y/N! It’s nice of you to finally make it. I thought maybe a traffic monster had swallowed you up.” You were five minutes later than usual and she was acting like it was the end of the world, typical. Natasha is momentarily forgotten as you roll your eyes at your best friend's words. “Hi, Y/N. So nice to see you, Y/N. I’m so sorry I was a ghost today, Y/N.” You mock her playfully, ready to give her an earful for making you think she might have died today before Natasha clears her throat.

“Big sisters don’t get introductions anymore?”

It was easy to get over your initial starstruck feeling after the first couple of days that Natasha stayed with Yelena. You learned that there was a two week long break between legs of the tour and Natasha decided she wanted to come visit her sister. With no prior notice, of course, because that’s just how Natasha does things. It really didn’t take long for you to feel comfortable around her and although she had been skeptical to let herself fully relax around you, even if she didn’t show it, she eventually did. You found that you enjoyed being around her and even found yourself hanging around Yelena’s apartment even when she wasn’t there just so you could spend time with Natasha.

And Natasha enjoyed spending time with you. She didn’t show it, much like she didn’t show most emotions that weren’t surface level, but she was excited to finally meet the famous Y/N Yelena would always rave about for the past however many years when they spoke on the phone. She would always regret not coming to visit more often, but she wouldn’t trade her current life for anything even if it meant time spent with Yelena was over the phone more often than not. She could make up for it in other ways, hopefully her sister felt the same.

It was the last day of Natasha’s two week visit and you were both sitting on the cargo bed of her rental truck. It was parked in the grassy parking area near the picnic area of one of New York’s many state parks. It was nearly deserted save for a few families, August wasn’t exactly peak tourist season in this part of New York. You were waiting for Yelena to arrive with Kate, the blonde finally deciding that now would be a good time for Natasha to meet her girlfriend. Of course she waited until the day before Natasha left.

You’re leaning into Natasha, your legs dangling off the edge of the cargo bed, kicking back and forth lightly. She’s leaning on one hand and letting you play with her fingers on the other. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to admit it out loud, but she will miss you when she’s gone. She hadn’t planned on growing so close to you and she’s never had a problem with being detached before, but something about you just draws her in. If she could stay here, with you leaning against her and the gentle breeze against her skin, she would. It’s a dangerous thought, she knows it is, but she wonders if you’d wait for her to come back. Whenever that is.

The mixture of Natasha’s perfume and the nature around you is comforting and you don’t want anything to burst the little bubble of comfort you and Natasha have created for yourselves. “Is it bad that I don’t want you to go?” You ask quietly, hoping if you don’t say it too loud then the question won’t hold as many emotions as you know it does. Natasha doesn’t respond for a few seconds, trying to come up with an answer that won’t make you upset but also won’t give you any false hope. “You could always come to one of my shows.” Is what she settles for, but the sigh she gets in response isn’t what she wanted.

“You know I can’t.” Your legs stop kicking and you let the warm breeze brush against them as it blows past. Natasha squeezes your hand, “I know.” She’s about to say something else, but the honk of a horn interrupts her and you practically jump off of the truck, a startled curse falling from your lips as you whip your head around. You groan when you see Yelena’s car and turn to bury your face in Natasha’s shoulder, previous feelings seemingly forgotten, “Your sister’s an asshole.”

Natasha laughs, reaching up to run a hand through your hair, the feeling much too familiar. It makes a pit form in her stomach, but she pushes it down. “It runs in the family. Now, come on. I have to go all big sister on this Kate girl.” She pats your shoulder and waits for you to pull away from her before getting down from the truck. She almost walks away, but thinks better of it, instead turning to help you down as well. There’s no reason to pull away, she reminds herself, you two are just friends. Friends who have spent the past couple of nights cuddled together on Yelena’s couch while watching movies, but still, just friends.

You both hear two car doors shut and then Yelena’s voice, “Sestra! Come meet Kate!” and then much quieter, Kate’s nervous one, “Babe, I really think maybe we should just go back. I mean she’s already met Y/N, so maybe I’ll be next time.”

Surprisingly, you’re able to stop Natasha from scaring Kate too much, but she still puts the fear of God into the brunette, promising something awful if she were to ever break her sister’s heart. Of course Kate swears she would never do anything like that and then goes on a nervous rant about how she was totally on Natasha’s side when it came to punching that guy.

The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly, you all had a good time and you almost completely forgot that Natasha would be leaving tomorrow. Until you didn’t. You had been sleeping over at Yelena’s apartment the past couple of nights and tonight was no different, wanting to see Natasha off when she left. Like a good friend would. Because that’s what you were. Friends.

Natasha had claimed she was going to stay up all night so that when she got on the bus in the morning, she’d be able to sleep through the long drive to the hotel in Indiana. You gave some lame excuse to hide wanting to spend more time with her as a reason why you’d stay up with her. Yelena had gone to sleep long ago and you were starting to get a little sleepy, but you weren’t going to give up now. You looked at your phone to check the time: 2:46am.

You were in a similar position to earlier, except instead of a truck bed you were sitting on the couch with your legs curled up next to you as you leaned into Natasha. “Y/N?” Natasha whispers into the quiet of the living room, the only sound besides her voice being the quiet murmur from the tv. You hum in response, eyes trained on the scene being shown on the tv screen. You were watching reruns of one of your favorite shows and although Natasha wasn’t all that interested, she’d let you keep it on.

“Y/N.” She says slightly louder and you sit up in confusion, looking around to see if maybe you’d missed something. You furrow your eyebrows when everything is the same as it was before, “what?” Natasha looks like she wants to say something, but she hesitates slightly. “Nevermind. Sorry, I thought I saw something.”

“Nat, seriously, what?” You’re beyond confused now and a little too tired to understand the emotions in Natasha’s eyes the way you usually would. It’s a split second decision, but the resolve she’s been trying to build up for the past few days has been effectively crumbled and the question that’s been on the tip of her tongue since you asked if it was bad you wanted her to stay finally escapes her lips, “can I kiss you?”

It takes you a second to register the fact that she actually wants to kiss you, but as soon as you do you’re nodding your head. She surges forward, cupping your cheeks and pressing her lips against yours. Your eyes flutter shut and you grab at her shirt, trying to tug her closer as your lips move against each other. Her tongue slides against your bottom lip and you gasp. She takes the opportunity to push her tongue into your mouth, exploring it. There’s no real fight for dominance, you let Natasha take the lead entirely.

You tug her down as you lay back on the couch and she shifts slightly so that she can straddle your hips, one of her hands tangling in your hair. Eventually she has to pull away for air and she’s glad she does with the way you struggle to breathe properly, fists clutching her shirt. Your breathing is labored and she would find it cute had she not realized you were sacrificing breathing just to kiss her. She almost wants to scold you for it.

She rubs her thumb across your cheek as she looks down at you. She really shouldn’t be doing this, not before she has to leave, and especially not in Yelena’s living room, but she doesn’t know if she really cares right now. “I’m going to kiss you again, okay?”

“Please.” You nod desperately, tugging her back down and meeting her lips halfway. This kiss is much more heated and messy, the both of you more desperate for each other than you already were. Natasha bites down on your bottom lip and you moan softly, arching up into her. Her smirk breaks the kiss and you almost whine, but it’s almost like she can read your mind because she’s immediately shushing you and pressing her lips to yours again.

Your hands slide under her shirt to grip at her waist and pull her closer to you, desperately wanting to feel her against you. The way you’re kissing is almost feverish, the both of you so desperate that you feel if you don’t consume the other it may be your demise. Natasha pulls away to quickly pull her shirt off and discard it on the floor and if you weren’t so desperate to have her lips on yours again, you would have taken more time to admire her abs.

When she leans back down to meet your lips in another frenzied kiss, she doesn’t even take the time to pull your shirt off entirely, merely pushes it up and over your breasts, her hands finding purchase on the soft skin of your waist before traveling up. She groans at the way your body reacts to her and the little whine you let out when she slides her fingertips over the cups of your bra.

When she pulls away again you try to catch your breath, feeling a little lightheaded from having Natasha like this. She’s leaning over you, hands cupping your cheeks as her thumb rubs soothingly across one of them. “If we keep going, I’m not going to be able to stop.” She laughs lightly, the look on your face telling her that very much wouldn’t be a problem. “But I don’t think this is the right place for that, doll. Another time, alright?”

The rest of the night is spent with Natasha whispering sweet nothings to you as you fall in and out of sleep, trying your best to stay awake with her. She promises to come back soon, even though she doesn’t know when soon will be, and that she’ll text you when she can and set aside time to call, and would you like that? Eventually, you succumb to sleep and Natasha has to slip away without a proper goodbye. She’d tried to wake you, you can’t fault her for that one. And if Yelena noticed you wearing Natasha’s shirt while you were asleep on the couch, she didn’t say anything.

“I hope you guys don’t mind us playing something new.” Natasha’s words are met with loud cheers and she smirks softly, “it’s a song I wrote recently and we haven’t had a chance to play it for anyone yet so we figured why not, right? It’s called Everlong. I hope you guys like it.” She looks behind her and nods to Carol who starts the drum beat.

“Hello

I’ve waited here for you

Everlong”

#alice's fics !#🎸🦇 au #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanov imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romanoff smut

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natsarrownecklacx · 1 year ago

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Cruelty Is An Art Form Pt. 4

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count- 4,722

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

Warnings- 18+ fic, minors DNI, Smut, Mean Mob Nat, Mentions of killing, confusing relationships dynamics/ feelings, descriptions of violence (noting too bad)

Series Masterlist

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

If a few days ago you had even a fleeting thought that you might be in this situation right now you would have admitted yourself for a voluntary seventy two hour hold. Natasha Romanoff, THE Natasha Romanoff, the mob boss, mass serial killer, ruthless, cold hearted woman that she is, just introduced you to her “babushka’ as her finance.

Eh, no. No thank you. This has been quite enough insanity for one bad dream. You’d like to wake up now. Be back in your home in your nice, warm and comfortable bed with your favorite stuffie, the one you’ve had since you were thirteen years old, tucked between your arms and your chest, holding the bear close to your heart where it belongs. Giving you every ounce of comfort you will need once you wake from this nightmare any moment now.

Seconds pass and you just stand there in shock. Unmoving. Not saying a word.

For the other two people in the room the whole thing is a little awkward. You, however, are simply waiting until your brain decides to stop having a stroke and wake you from this madness.

Any second now. Just gonna wake up. With everything but subtlety you bring your left hand to your right forearms and pinch. Hard. You wince slightly at the pain but that's it. Nothing else happens. Not waking up? Okay then.

Natasha clears her throat and snaps you from your panicked state of delusion. Damnit. Why couldn’t you be dreaming.

You look to the redhead, the question of what the fuck is going on right at the tip of your toung ready to be unleashed. Natasha only has to raise her brow at you, daring you to open your mouth, to shut you up.

You let your mouth fall closed and you instinctively swallow your words, nodding vaguely in submission before turning your sights on the other, older, women in the room. You smile at her apologetically and do your best to smooth things over. “Hi.” You say, more awkwardly then you would have hoped to. So you clear your throat again. “Sorry. I’m just a little nervous.” You mumble, whipping your now sweaty hands on your pants.

“It’s so nice to meet you, dear.” The older woman says softly and you can see in her smile that she is doing her best to reassure you. She waddles toward you, well, more to do the old woman shuffle, and although you have no reason to fear her, you have to resist the urge to take a step back.

If the older woman notices your tense posture she chooses not to act on it, which you are grateful for, because the second she puts her arms around you in a warm embrace you feel the tightness in your chest ease. You all but melt in her comforting embrace and for a slip second it

makes you forget about the situation you're in.

It's the first time since you left that bar that you feel almost completely at ease. A tear wells up in your eye as you think of it, as you let yourself have this comfort. You might have even let that tear fall, let it track its way down your face as a sign of your exhaustion with the whole situation and the fear you feel.

But Natasha is looking at you with a tilt to her head, a curious look in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips. It almost looks as if she likes that you and her grandmother are getting along. Disgusting. If there was one thing in this life that you would absolutely NOT be doing, it would be causing that evil woman to smile that way. As if something inside her cold, dead, void of a heart might actually start beating again.

You glare at the woman and turn your face away, unable to look at her stupid green eyes anymore.

“It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am.” You say, pulling away from the embrace but the older woman keeps you in her grasp, her hands holding your forearms loosely.

“Oh please.” The woman scoffs lightheartedly, as if the two of you knew each other well. “Call me Galina. We are going to be family after all, are we not.”

You let out a nervous chuckle at her words, hoping for your sake that it sounds more like a genuine laugh. “I… suppose we are.” You smile at her, not completely hating the idea of being related to the woman, but her granddaughter? You’d rather sleep on a bed with nails then tie yourself to that woman in such a way.

Galina, gives your arms a comforting squeeze, sending you another smile before pulling away and moving in the direction of the living room. She stops just as she passes Natasha and reaches out to squeeze her arm, similarly to how she did yours.

“I like her, Natalia.” She says, in an approving manner. “She’s nice and very polite.” She leans in closer then, as if telling her granddaughter a secret. “And she’s very pretty.”

You smile at the woman bashfully for her comment, your eyes drifting from her to the redhead beside her when you feel green eyes looking at you.

“Yeah.” Natasha says, her eyes locked on you and looking strangely soft as she does. “She really is, isn't she.”

You blush at Natasha’s words and try to taper down the surge of self loathing you feel at the uncontrollable reaction you have to her. You suddenly find the floor very interesting and decide to examine the tile in favor of keeping your eyes away from the woman.

Galina pats Natasha on the arm then and shuffles off to the living room as if nothing had happened. Natasha waits for her granny to be out of the room before turning to you, one brow raised and a shit eating grin on her face as she takes in the sight of your blush tinted cheeks. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t really have to. She seems to have this natural talent to annoy you without even saying a word.

She opens one arm out and gestures toward the hall Galina had disappeared down, silently commanding you to follow her. You narrow your eyes at the widow, making yourself look as annoyed with her as you can, while still trying to tamper down the red on your face. Wordlessly, you brush past her, making sure not to look at her and follow Galina into the living room.

———————

Natasha is sitting next to you on the couch, nearly on top of you with how close she is, her hand resting comfortingly, or threateningly, on your thigh. She’s leaning her side into yours, an easy, natural laugh passing her lips every so often and a permanent smile on her face.

Sometimes she runs her thumb over your thigh or squeezes the plush skin softly in her hold. You can’t help but let your eyes drift to the action each time, nor can you help it when your eyes drift to her face right after, or the immediate frustration you feel when you see that she’s already looking at you, an unfamiliar look on her face. Then, seconds later, a sly smile slides its way over her lips. Every. Single. Time.

Oh what you wouldn’t give to be able to just reach your hands up and whip that self assured, cocky look off her face. To just grab her and bash her head against the table. Harshly. Repeatedly. Until either she, or the table, breaks.

It seems as though your brain, all sides, rational and irrational, want the same thing and have decided to work against you for that common goal, because without even realizing it you’ve raised your hands to cup Natasha’s face. Her dark green eyes widen a fraction, her brows shooting up almost into her hairline.

You can see the confusion and intrigue swimming in her eyes. Dammit. You get lost in those graphic thoughts from seconds ago, staring into Natasha’s eyes. You could just tighten your hold on her and give her a good smack against the table in front of you. Or the back of the couch. Or your knee if you angled it just right. Or-

Natasha’s eyes slip closed, her head turning to nuzzle into your left hand and oh god. Why does she look so adorable right now? Without even realizing it you’d begun to rub your thumbs across her cheeks in a soothing motion. Your bodies are both turned to face each other fully, how did that happen, when did that happen.

You want to stop. You should stop. But she looks so comfortable, so content. A thought crosses your mind, when’s the last time anyones held her like this? And your heart cracks just a little, the solid ball of hatred you hold for her melting, even just slightly.

“Aww look at the two of you.” Galina, coos from her seat opposite to the one you and Natasha currently occupy. “You two truly make quite the pair.”

Thank god for this woman and her comments. The old woman's words bring you back to yourself, your hands retracting from the widow's face as though her skin and physically scorched you.

You send Galina what you hope is a polite, shy smile and lean back into the couch, brushing Natasha’s hand off your thigh inconspicuously in the process.

Natasha takes a few seconds before opening her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the tingle your touch has left on her skin. When she does open her eyes she looks slightly out of it, but she doesn’t try to touch you again. She simply sits and makes polite small talk with her babushka, and sometimes you, until the woman decides to leave.

“It was lovely to meet you, dear.” Glina says, as you all stand at the front door saying your goodbyes. The old woman leans in to give you another hug, this time giving you a light squeeze as she does so.

“It was nice to meet you, Ms. Romanoff.” You say, quickly correcting yourself when you see the playful glare the old woman sends your way. “Right, Sorry. It was nice to meet you, Galina.”

The older woman pats your back in approval and pulls away smiling, making sure to send an appreciative wink your way before turning to take her granddaughter into her arms. Natasha seems to melt against the other woman, the tension in her body all but disappears the second she’s in her arms. Maybe she just has that magic effect on everyone.

The sight is almost endearing, if it didn’t spike an odd, unwelcome feeling in your chest. It makes a daunting realization fall on your shoulders with a weight you're not sure you’ve ever felt before.

Natasha is just a woman. Just a person, like you or anyone else. She’s a daughter. A granddaughter. She isn’t evil in its purest form. Not Satan made flesh. She wasn’t just dropped on this earth one day to test humanity. Yet she still commits the most heinous crimes. Kills in the most disturbing ways. Still finds art in her cruelty.

She tried to follow the warmth of your hand when you’d pulled away from her face earlier, you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you’d seen it, convinced yourself that it was a trick your eyes played on you. Because that would mean she needed something. Needed kind and gentle touch, human interaction beyond her work, her killing. Killing she enjoys, you remind yourself and push away the borderline hurt in your chest at the idea that Natasha might be touch starved.

Natasha pulls away from her grandmother after a minute and offers to drive her home herself, to “make sure she gets there safely.” There’s a smile on her face, a kind and caring one and a look in her eyes you can’t quite place. You would have never guessed her to be an attentive person, even towards her grandmother.

You have to look away from her, turning your head to the side before you can lose yourself trying any other traces of humanity in the redhead.

Natasha notices the movement out of the corner of her eye but she chooses not to comment on it, instead keeping her attention on the older woman in front of her, who is now telling Natasha that she worries far too much for her safety and she will be perfectly fine with her driver.

————————————-

“Why did you tell your grandmother we’re engaged?” You ask the second Natasaha comes back from walking her grandmother to the car, the door barely closed fully behind her.

Natasha sighs and leans her forehead against the cool glass of the door. She takes a deep breath, counting to ten in her head and trying to stave off the irritation she feels at your question. She turns from the door toward you, her eyes catching on the way your arms have crossed protectively over your chest, causing your breasts to peek out over your top.

“Natasha?” You push, snappily and Natasha has to yet again swallow her irritation in favor of keeping on your good side. Or as close to your good side as she can get. All she really needs is for you to be compliant, to not cause a fuss or get any ideas of running away. That would cause far too much of a headache then she could handle right now. But she wants more than that, so she has to behave herself, at least as much as she can. She does still have to teach you a lesson on teasing her though.

She wants to tell you exactly that. That you should just stop talking and get on your knees. Put your mouth to better use and fix her building frustrations by burying your tongue between her legs.

But in all honesty right now she’s a little too caught up in the fact that you’ve just said her name. Just let it roll off your tongue as if it's the most natural thing in the world. God what she wouldn’t give to hear you say it in much different circumstances. Though you do look cute being all mad at her, a downward, almost pouting lilt to your lips, your brows furrowed and your arms crossed over each other in a defensive stance.

Instead she lets an easy, teasing smile slider over her face. She watches amusedly as your eyes narrow at her, as if knowing she wasn’t about to give you any form of straight answer.

“Why were you so quick to play along, Angel?” She taunts, taking a teasing step toward you. “Do you like the idea of being my wife?” You visibly gulp at her words and a hot feeling flares in her stomach as she watches you falter and take a step back.

“What? No.” You answer, a consciously added tone of disgust in your voice as you watch her continue her stalk toward you and you continue to walk blindly back.

“See, I think you're lying, pretty girl.” She says, a lilt to her voice that makes you think she’s doing more than just teasing now, she’s daring you to disagree, challenging you to prove her wrong.

Your back hits a wall and your breath catches in your throat. You watch, frozen, as a sinister smile slides onto Natasha’s face, a borderline ravenous look in her eyes as she slowly takes you in, her tongue swiping over her lips, wetting them as if preparing to press them to something, anything, in a few moments. You don’t know if you want her to or not.

“I think you love the idea of being my pretty little wife.” She’s standing in front of you now, less than a shaky breath away, her chin tilted down slightly to be able to look you in the eye.

She leans forward, her hand landing with a silent thud against the wall right next to your head, the other hand makes its way from your thigh up tp your hip, starting out as a light touch, her finger tips barley grazing your skin, only for her hold to tighter, possessively, wantingly, when she finds the dib of your hip.

“You're delusional.” You bite back, having just about enough of this woman. She doesn’t get to force you into these situations and then tell you it's what you want, nor does she get to call you a liar for denying her.

“Oh?” She taunts, moving forward more, her body now mere inches from yours, effectively changing you in. “So you wouldn’t like to be my pretty little stay at home wife.” She raises her brow questioningly, a faux skeptical look on her face. “You don’t want to have absolutely no worries? Just let me take care of everything? Take care of you?”

Natasha traces the hand on your hip back down to your thigh, hooking her fingers under your knee and pulling your leg up to rest on her hip. Your eyes widen, her actions having left you more open to her, more vulnerable.

“I could spoil you, Angel. I’d do anything for you, get anything for you. Whatever your heart desires. Say it and it's yours.”

You should look away from her, you should WANT to look away from her. Avert your eyes from her dark green eyes and her full lips, the ends of them curled into a smirk. Something in your chest screams at you to look away, take your eyes off this demoness before she swallows you whole. She has too much power already, you don’t want to give her anymore. You won’t.

But with her standing this close you can feel the heat radiating off of her, see a look in her eyes that seems something scary like genuine. She steps closer, closing the gap between you, your heart now thudding so hard in your chest you're sure she must feel it against her own.

You watch as her eyes drop to your lips for a full three seconds, her tongue swiping at her own again, before her eyes flick back to yours. She removes her hand from the wall and brings it to cup your cheek, the warmth and gentleness of it taking you by surprise. She tilts her head down more, drawing her lips closer to yours, her eyes almost pleading as she whispers, her breath fanning across your face as she does. “Let me take care of you, Angel.”

You take a sharp intake of air and the following sound that passes your lips is entirely involuntary, only you're far too swept up in her to care. You see something pass through her eyes, there and go faster then you can decipher what it is or what it means. Then again, do you really care? With her standing so close, touching you so gently, holding you like this and saying all the right things.

“Please.” You whisper back, hoping she doesn't know how much you mean it. Hoping she doesn’t catch the hint of longing and submission in your voice.

Natasha smiles and leans in to let her lips hover over your, she barely lets them touch, just grazing them before moving to trace them over the skin of your cheek, over to your ear. She smirks to herself at the noise of protest you let out, wanting her lips on yours in a more forceful way.

“What's wrong, Angel?” She asks, knowing damn well what she's doing. She moves her kisses down your neck, smirking against your skin when she feels you tilt your head back, giving her more room to work. She feels your leg held on her hip tighten against her, one of your arms up around her neck, holding her close to you and a quiet moan falls past your lips when she nips at your pulse point. She doesn’t think this can get any better for her right now.

“Natasha.” You say breathly, a hint of neediness laced through her name. “Please.”

Jesus Christ. How is she meant to go through with this now? How is she meant to pull away when she knows that's just a taste of what she’ll get if she carries on. Fuck it. She can indulge herself a little longer.

“You want it, Angel?” You nod fervently, a whine bubbling up in your throat as you push your body more against hers.

Natasha pulls away, finding a sinister satisfaction in the desperate look on your face. “Say it.” She says, already catching the hesitation in your eyes. “Say you want me to fuck you.” You swallow at her words and finally find it in you to look away from her.

Natasha however only wants your eyes on her. In one fluid motion she has her leg slotted between yours, a delicious pressure hitting your core. You moan lowly and press yourself against her, giving your hips one greedy thrust against her.

She stops you with a hand on your hips and your eyes snap back to her. “Tell me or I’ll stop.” She says firmly.

“I- I want…” You manage to say but seem to lose your voice and find yourself unable to finish your sentence.

“You want what Angel? You want me to make you come?” Natasha says, moving down to place open mouth kisses on your neck, marking you as hers. “With my fingers?” She says between kisses. “My mouth?” Another kiss. “You’d feel so good coming apart on my tongue.” You groan at her words and try to grate your hips against her.

“Would you take my strap if I asked, Angel? Let me fill you like the good girl I know you want to be for me.” Your breath hitches at her words and Natasha makes a mental note to use your apparent praise kink against you whenever she can.

“Or maybe you're happy to come as you are. Riding my thigh just like a desperate little thing. You gonna make a mess on my new pants, angel?”

“Yes.” You gasp, the pressure between your legs becoming borderline unbearable. “Please let me ride your thigh Mo- Natasha. Please let me come.”

A sinister smile slides onto Natasha’s face, her hold on your hips loosening, allowing you to move a little. “Go ahead Angel. Make yourself feel good on mommy’s thigh.”

You moan loudly at her words, wasting absolutely no time before rolling your hips against her. Natasha watches in awe as you grind yourself against her, the need between her own legs building at the sight.

She tries to move her hand from your hip but your eyes snap to her with a pleading look and your hand grabs her wrist keeping it in place. “Guide me.” You say, no trace of embarrassment at voicing your needs and Natasha can’t help the hot arousal she feels. “Please.”

“Well when you ask so politely, Angel, how am I supposed to say no.” Natasha moves both her hands to your hips, grabbing at them greedily, guiding you against her thigh. The reaction it draws from you is immediate. You push yourself harder against her, a lewd moan falling past your lip when you feel her tense her thigh beneath you.

Your hands fly to her shoulders, using her to anchor you, to pull her closer. “Feels good.” You murmur, dropping your head into the crook of her neck, face down in her shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” She answers and even though you can’t see her you know her brow is raised and a smirk rests on her face. “Is mommy making you feel good, angel.” She teases, tensing her thigh and lifting it against you while pressing you down with her hands.

You nod against her shoulder and turn your face against her neck, your hot breath hitting her sensitive skin. You whine, your left hand coming up to weave into the hair at the back of her head. You're so close. You can feel it. Natasha can feel it.

You let out a shuddering breath and Natasha knows she either has to pull herself away now or let her plan fly out the window, and with it, her vantage point. She has to teach you a lesson, she has to show you how it feels, to know that you're at least half as sexually frustrated as she is.

Her body is hot against yours, her all consuming presence both grounding and drowning you at the same time, and you're ready to let yourself fall into her completely.

She pulls away, rips herself from you and the startling cold of the now empty space where she was is altogether too sudden. You whine and reach out for her, wanting her to come back, wanting her warmth, wanting her to finish what she stated.

You look up at her through tearful eyes, the knowing, smug look on her face hitting you just as hard as the wave of cold moments ago. “Now you know how it feels.” She says, her arms hanging lazily by her sides, as though she is completely unbothered by any of this.

You don't say anything in response. You don’t even want to look at her. You turn away from her, silently and make your way toward your room, eyes trained straight ahead of you until you close and lock the door once you are inside.

You don’t see the way Natasha’s face drops. Or the way she moves to reach out to you but ultimately decides against it.

You need a shower, a warm one. You walk toward what looks like a bathroom door, removing your close as you go, uncaring of what you'll do with yourself afterward. You open the door and just as you thought a nice, decent sized bathroom is revealed. You don’t even take the time to look it over, simply make your way toward the shower, turn the water to hot and step inside.

You need that warmth back. She took it from you too soon, you were too comfortable, too close. How could you have believed what she was saying, that she would take care of you? That she wanted to? How stupid could you be?

It feels wrong, everything does, you do. Having been that willing feels wrong. Missing her arms around you feels wrong. The lack of her heat feels wrong. The fact that she’s not here feels wrong.

You close your eyes and sigh. This has all gotten so confusing. You hate her, there that’s it, not so confusing. But you wanted to believe what she said. You wanted to believe that she touched you the way she did, whispered in your ear the way she did, for a reason beyond just lust or amusement.

You want her. No. Yes. You can’t. You huff, annoyed with yourself and your dumb confused brain.

You think about her, trying to make ssense of it all. You remember the way she held you, the feeling of her lips on your skin. The way you felt when she touched you, when she told you she wanted to take care of you. That she wanted you to be her wife.

You remember her hands guiding you, you remember asking her to. You remember letting yourself call her mommy, in a way you’ve never been compelled to do with anyone before. You remember the way she looked when you said it, the way she called herself it right after.

Your hands trail over your wet skin and drop between your legs, your fingers roaming warm skin until they find what they are desperate to touch.

You drop two fingers to circle your clit, letting a moan fall past your lips. You slip one finger inside, then another. You come with one hand covering your mouth, head leaning back against the cool tiled wall and two fingers buried deep inside you.

If only one thing was going to come out of it today, it would be the fact that you were now significantly less frustrated. The same couldn't be said for Natasha, who heard your moan as she was on her way to speak to you.

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

A/n- this took ages because I’ve genuinely been up the walls and barely been able to write 😭 hope ye like it tho

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff smut

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rainforest-daisies · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 23’ masterlist!

A/n: Heyyy…hey..how y’all doin😀 this is so on brand of me to post the masterlist 2 days before october🧍🏻‍♀️

1|breeding kink-steve harrington

2|Thigh riding-Natasha Romanoff

3|Shower sex-Daryl Dixon

4|Cockwarming-Spencer Reid

5|Mommy kink-Ethan Landry

6|Begging-Sam Winchester

7|Overstimulation-Robin Buckley

8|body worship-Ellie Williams

9|mirror sex-Sirius Black

10|Uniform kink-Leon Kennedy

11|Loss of virginity-Peter Parker

12|Strap-ons-Hazel Callahan

13|car sex-Billy Hargrove

14|Bondage-John B Routledge

15|mask kink-Simon ‘ghost’ Riley

16|Brat taming-Rafe Cameron

17 |praise kink-JJ Maybank

18|Degradation kink-Rafe Cameron

19|Dry humping-Tate Langdon

20|Face fucking-Rafe Cameron

21|Face sitting-Ethan Landry

22|Knife kink-Billy Loomis

23|Exhibition-JJ maybank

24|spanking-Wanda Maximoff

25|hair pulling-Spencer Reid

26|lingerie-Maddy Perez

27|Sex pollen-James Potter

28|Choking-Regulus Black

29|Orgasm control-Billy Hargrove

30|hand kink-Steve Harrington

31|Serial killer AU-Rafe Cameron

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abbyromanoff · 1 year ago

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KINKTOBER MASTERLIST:

ALL DARK FICS AHEAD!!!!

No requesting unless I ask please :)) all fics will be part of my own requests that are piling up and if I’m able to get more done I will but I promise all fics will be posted even if late

DAY 1: Dark!Natasha - Delicate

DAY 2: Yandere!Valkyrie - Gone, But Not For Long

DAY 3: Dark!Agatha - Manipulation Tactics

DAY 4: Dark!Wanda - Cruel Girl

DAY 5: Kate Bishop - Boyfriend

DAY 6: Step Mom!Natasha - What Are You Doing?

DAY 7: Serial Killer!Agatha - How To Get Away With Murder

DAY 8: Wanda Maximoff - Follow My Lead

DAY 9: Dark!Yelena - Change Of Plans

DAY 10: Dark!Carol - Foolish One

DAY 11: Emo!Wanda - Eyes Don’t Lie

DAY 12: Dark!Natasha - Love potion

DAY 13: Dark!Agatha - Stockholm Syndrome

DAY 14: Dark!Wanda Maximoff - You’ll Always Be Mine

DAY 15: Serial Killer!Natasha Romanoff - Explicit

DAY 16: Jane Banner - Hate Me? Or Love Me?

DAY 17: Ghostface!Nat - Target 1

DAY 18: Dark!Emily Prentiss - Chokehold

DAY 19: Kidnapper!Maria - Halloween Night

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screaminglygay · 2 months ago

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KINKTOBER & update

Hey everyone!

I'm so sorry for being MIA lately. I've had some medical complications that kept me away, but I'm back now and ready to dive into this year's KINKTOBER! 🎃

Below the cut, you'll find a list of what and when I'll be posting!!!

Until KINKTOBER kicks off, I'll be sharing some of my older fics, including finishing my WandaNat series and dropping a few oneshots I've been working on.

Thank you all for your patience and support, and I'm so excited to be back and writing for you! 💖

1.10. - witch!wanda maximoff x teasing

5.10. - kate bishop x roleplay

10.10. - natasha romanoff x dirty talk

13.10. - serial killer!yelena belova x lingerie

18.10. - wandanat x punishment

21.10. - dark!carol danvers x edging

24.10. - yelena belova x overstimulation

26.10. - kate bishop x masturbation

28.10. - dark!wanda maximoff x fem!reader + love quinn x fem!reader

31.10. - marvel ladies x multiverse

As always, I´m pretty exited, so I hope you are too!!

#adele writes #marvel fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #kate bishop x reader #yelena belova x reader #carol danvers x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #carol danvers x fem!reader #yelena belova x fem!reader #kate bishop x fem!reader #love quinn x reader #love quinn x fem!reader #kinktober2024

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gingiesworld · 1 year ago

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Unhinged Couple

Cannibal Wanda Maximoff x Serial Killer GN! Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: Smut. Amab! Reader. Violence. Death.

Taglist: @ginnsbaker @gb12d @lifespectator @imaginationeuphoria @louxbloom @mfd-101 @abbyromanoff @natashamaximoff-69 @wizardofstories @canvascoloredin @marvelogic @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20

Congratulations @abbyromanoff on your engagement!!!! Hope you both have all the happiness in the world!!!

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N was sent out to the local club to find their mext victim by any means necessary. So as they sat in the prime booth that overlooked the whole club and bar, they had come across a lonely red headed woman at the bar. She had now ordered her fourth drink without even moving so it seemed as though she was alone, which was perfect in their eyes.

So they decided to approach her, leaning on the bar beside her as they ordered another drink before they turned to face her.

"It seems as though you have come to the wrong place." Y/N stated as they leaned into whisper in her ear.

"Is that so?" The red head challenged.

"Yup." They smirked as they supped on their beer. "This is place is full of people who are having fun or looking for their next fuck, and you are sat here looking as glum as the night."

"So you're a stalker?" She raised a brow as Y/N laughed.

"No, I am a very observant person." They told her as they reached for her hand. "I'm Ry." They held out their hand for her to shake.

"Nat." She shook their hand with a shy smile.

"Nat, that has to be short for Natalia right?" They pondered as Nat giggled.

"Natasha really." She corrected them.

"My apologies." They smiled as they gazed at her, causing her to blush lightly under their intense stare. "Do you want to dance and have fun or would you like stay here and wallow?" They asked her with a raised brow. Nat finished her drink before she stood up.

"Let's dance." She told them with a smile, taking their hand and leading them to the dancefloor. They both danced together, jumping up and down to the beat until Y/N decided to wrap their arm around her, pulling her closer to them as they danced. A smirk dancing on their face as she pushed her ass into them as their hand travelled lower, resting over the dress on her pubic bone.

As Nat continued to grind on their crotch, their cock hardening as her arousal pooled in her underwear. The feeling was sending Y/N almost feral as their hand reached lower, cupping her core and making her moan.

"Turn around." They whispered in her ear, which she complied as Y/N's hand snaked up the front of her dress, rubbing her clit through her underwear as she moaned into their neck. To everyone around, it seemed as though they were just dancing while Y/N thrusted their fingers in and out of her dripping cunt. "Should we get out of here?" They asked her as she nodded. Whimpering as they pulled their hand away from her and dragging her through the club towards the exit.

Y/N led her to their car, opening the passenger side door open for her before they got into the driver's seat. Their hand grazing her exposed thighs as they drove through the dark country roads to the house they shared with Wanda.

Once the two were inside, Y/N pushed her up against the wall as they ripped her under off, continuing their actions from earlier but with three fingers instead of one. The moans that escaped had signalled to Wanda that Y/N was successful in bringing home a new victim.

So she had picked up the syringe she had prepared. Walking through the dark halls quietly as she approached them, anger filling her form as she saw her Y/N so close to another woman in a sinful way. So she had decided to inject the sedative into Nat's neck as she was completely unaware. Before she could reach her climax, she collapsed against Y/N who smirked as they turned to Wanda.

"I never told you to fuck her." Wanda spoke sternly as she opened the door to the basement. Watching as Y/N picked up the unconciouss Nat and took her down the stairs, placing her on the metal table and stripping her dress and leaving her bare.

"It's almost regretful to take someone so beautiful." Y/N told Wanda as they strapped her down, not expecting Wanda to be right behind them as they turned. Gripping their hardened cock through their jeans.

"Did you enjoy fucking her tonight?" Wanda asked as she bit their ear, making them whimper at her touch. "Did you taste her?"

"No." They whispered as Wanda used her other hand to undo their belt. "I only ever used my fingers."

"Did you want to fuck her with what's mine." Wanda asked as she pushed their trousers down. "Did you want to fill her up with your cum."

"No." Y/N shook their head as Wanda started to remove her own clothes after Y/N stood there. All bare and waiting for her. "I only want to feel you wrapped around me. Just you."

"Good." Wanda removed her panties last. "Because you belong to me or you will be on that table next." She told them as she pushed them onto the sofa. "So now shut up and let me ride you."

Wanda lowered herself down onto Y/N's cock. The two moaning as Wanda moved her hips. She gripped their jaw, forcing them to look at her.

"Did you kiss her?" She questioned as she ghosted their lips.

"No." They answered her confidently. "I only ever want to kiss you."

"Good answer." She husked out before she kissed them hard, forcing her tongue into their mouth. Moaning as she tasted the beer they had been drinking.

As the hours went on, Y/N was on their knees as their head was between her thighs. Wanda's hand in their hair as they fucked her with their tongue.

Nat soom started to come around as the sound of Wanda's moans filled her ears. Her eyes looking around and trying to figure out where she was, that was when she had noticed Y/N on their knees and the smell of Wanda's arousal filled her nose.

"You're awake." She spoke followed by a loud moan as she came as Y/N lapped up every drop.

"Where am I?" Nat asked as her body ran cold, Wanda pushed Y/N away as she stood. Her naked form on show for Nat who struggled against the restraints.

"That doesn't matter sweetheart." Wanda spoke as her finger grazed the skin on her stomach. "But you won't be leaving here." Wanda gestured for Y/N to grab their favourite blade, a smirk on both of their faces as Y/N approached.

"Please." Nat pleaded as her eyes were on the knife. "Just let me go." Wanda chuckled darkly as she gripped Nat's jaw.

"I'm afraid we can't do that sweetheart." She taunted as she gazed into Nat's fearful eyes. "But you won't feel a thing soon enough." She then looked to Y/N who ran the blade from Nat's ankle and up to her inner thigh.

"It's a pity you never got to cum darling." Y/N taunted as the blade connected with her cunt.

"Please stop!!" She cried as she tried to break free from the restraints, screaming pleas of help at the top of her lungs as both Wanda and Y/N shared a look.

"That's no use sweetheart." Wanda leaned in closer, their noses brushing as she wore a sickening grin. "There is no one for miles to hear you." She slowly leaned back as Y/N started to saw through her thigh as Wanda smiled at the pain on the woman's face. Once Y/N was finished, Nat soon started to breathe rapidly as Wanda smiled at them. "There's just something about playing with your food that always fascinates me." She told them giddily as Y/N chuckled at her before continuing with the other leg.

"You know Nat, I used to do this differently before I met the love of my life." They started as Nat soon looked defeated, her skin pale as sweat formed on her forehead. "I used to just lure my old victims out like I did with you. You know, have a little fun before I would take my knife and plunge it into their stomach. Again and again as I watched the life fade from their eyes." They approached her arms as Wanda stood beside them, her hand on their arm as she started to press kisses to their skin. "But with Wanda, I do this for her too. I usually just preferred the excitement of the kill. The adrenaline that runs through your veins is just like my own personal heroin." The started on her arm, looking like this was as normal as breathing. "But now I also get the privelege of looking after my Wanda. Making sure she is well looked after."

"Well, I haven't really had to get my hands dirty in over a year now." Wanda chimed in as she started to remove the meat from the bones of the already severed limbs, wrapping them up before placing them in the freezer. "My Y/N gets the thrill and I get my food. I did used to eat like you but I was on a trip. Many years ago, in the middle of Old Russia. We ran out of food and well, the nearest town wasn't for miles and miles." Wanda looked to see Nat was almost gone. "So I done what I had to do to survive, I killed my boyfriend and I ate him. There's just something different about human meat. It's tougher like mutton but tastes just as good as pork, if not better."

"I think we're losing her love." Y/N stated as they stood by Nat's head.

"Well, just put her out of her misery." Wanda told them as they grabbed their knife, grazing her cheek with the blade.

"This will be quick darling, faster than falling asleep." They smirked as they plunged the knife into her heart, watching as the life left her eyes, a sick smile on their face.

"I think I will have plenty for a week. Maybe two." Wanda told them as started on her torso as Y/N wrapped their arms around her naked form.

"Well, whenever you need more my love, I will glady go out for more." They kissed her neck as she chuckled, licking the blood from her fingers as she finished her work. The two then taking the remaining bones to the furnace, throwing them inside before they kissed each other hungrily.

"Let's shower baby." Wanda whispered as she pushed her front flush against Y/N who only groaned as they let her lead the way for an eventful shower.

#gingie's halloween special #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

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riveramorylunar · 1 year ago

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What some of these fics will have: Kidnapping, Blackmail, Cannibalism, Gore, Manipulation, Decapitation, Dismemberment, Psychotic Behavior (only for the character though not for reader), Sadism, Stockholm Syndrome, Stalking, Possessiveness, Knife Marking, Skin Carving, Vivisepulture (Buried Alive), Drugging, Stabbing/Shooting, Murder, Massacre, Arson, Breaking In, Blood, Blood, Blood Drinking and More Blood. (I just love blood)

A/N: I suggest if you don't like this stuff don't read it cause this stuff is pretty dark. Also I'll be posting the dates when I get them finished.

2023-

Night At The Graveyard: Serial Killer Yelena Belova x Human Reader

Werewolf At Midnight: Werewolf Maria Hill x Werewolf Hunter Reader

A Vampire's Gift: Vampire Natasha Romanoff x Vampire Hunter Reader

To Defend & Protect: Police Officer Yelena Belova x Wife Reader (Requested)

Haunted Souls: Vampire Yelena Belova x Mutant Reader

If you guys want to be added to the Taglist just fill this Google doc out here → Link

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riversdarkblog · 2 years ago

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How I see them sitting

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wandanatsgf · 8 months ago

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PSA I have a fic being posted tomorrow morning at 11am est. It is a dark, serial killer Natasha smut, which I understand is not for everyone. I’ve included a list of warnings and kinks in the post!!

#natasha x reader smut #dark!natasha x reader #serial killer!natasha #Natasha Romanoff

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novoaa1writes · 1 year ago

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day 0

image source

pairing(s): softdark!natasha romanoff x gnc!reader, natasha romanoff & tony stark (platonic)

summary:

“I trust they were well-behaved?”

“You know they weren’t,” Stark disputed, letting out a derisive snort. “Honestly, I don’t know why you don’t let me fix that.”

Natasha shrugged. “Chemically-induced submission is all very well and good,” she mused, sounding vaguely preoccupied. You could still feel her gaze upon you, boring through your skull. “But I’d prefer to earn theirs.”

“Your funeral.”

Or: Natasha wants a pet. Lucky for her, she knows a guy who can help with that.

contains: non-con dynamics, pet play, dehumanization

[cross-posted on ao3]

word count: ~3,300

rating: mature

warnings: non-con dynamics, forced pet play, dehumanization, non-con bathing, referenced non-con body modification, referenced non-con medical experimentation/surgery, referenced physical and psychological abuse, discussions of administering post-op painkillers (morphine, oxycodone, anti-inflammatories, etc.)

notes: reader’s gender is not specified here, and as with every reader-insert i write, the reader is intended to be ethnically ambiguous! also, no use of y/n... i don't personally mind it much, but i understand it's typically preferred without

translation for russian terms in the end notes!

(previously named “build-a-pet”)

— —

Natasha had been on mission when she received the call.

Burner #1—professional access. A select handful of people had the means to call it. Phil, Clint, Nick, Maria. Pepper, too.

Burner #2—a separate, off-books agenda. Personal in nature. Accessible to none save for one individual.

It was the second of the two that rang to signal an incoming call.

Eyeing her target—Pavel Mikhailovich Novik, Bratyerstva head and prolific serial killer—intently through the tac scope, she brought the phone up to her ear and answered the call:

“Romanoff.”

“Gah! Always business with you, huh?” Tony Stark’s conversational—if not somewhat indignant—tone filtered through the speaker. “That’s no way to greet a friend.”

Were Natasha not otherwise occupied at the current moment, she might’ve scoffed. As it was: “A little busy, Shellhead,” she muttered, shifting her aim in time with Novik’s uneven stride as he made his way across a municipal street. “Why don’t we skip to the part where you tell me what you’ve got?”

“I’m doing just swell, thanks for asking.”

He was a short, stout man. Novik, that was. Flat-footed gait, the kind that had long since ruined the arches of his well-worn shoes. Broad shoulders; barrel-chested torso. Thick dark hair cut short on his scalp and, in the case of his square-shaped jaw, removed completely—but permitted to grow to damn near cat-whisker length everywhere else.

A wheat-link chain hung loose around his short neck; the chunky watch on his hairy wrist gleamed when it caught the light. Both solid gold.

He was dressed nicely enough in a red button-down that looked soft as satin, and charcoal black trousers with a matching blazer to boot.

Natasha had to bite back a disapproving hum as he strode into the establishment—a pub, no less—and hoisted himself up onto a barstool with little ceremony.

He was armed, of course, but only barely; a pistol in one inner coat pocket, a switchblade in the other. He also wasn’t entirely clueless, as evidenced by his company: a pair of stern-looking men who stood flanking him on either side, the material of their cheap polyester suits straining to contain their hulking figures, jackets bulging with poorly-concealed semi-automatic weapons. They watched the bartender like hawks as he set a clear bottle—Dębowa—and an empty glass in front of Novik before promptly scurrying away.

They turned their matching glowers away from their boss as he began to drink, surveying the small, dimly-lit pub with heavy-browed suspicion.

It was a clear message. A bit garish for Natasha’s tastes; but clear nonetheless.

As it was, she barely had to shift herself any further to catch him in her crosshairs through a series of high, rectangular windows lining the interior of the grimy pub.

All bark, no bite.

A far less jaded woman might have snorted.

A far less jaded woman Natasha was not.

“… Long story short, we’ve made some serious progress. I want to check in, though, if you could swing by for a quick visit. We’ve only got a short window before some of these alterations are irreversible. Plus, I figured you’d want to see them.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, her pulse thrumming wild and fast beneath her skin. “You figured right,” she managed to answer, her mouth dry. It was all she could do to keep Novik unharmed in her crosshairs, her finger from squeezing the trigger.

“So, when can we expect you?”

Natasha flit her gaze to the clock face fastened atop a tall, spindly spire on the nearest street corner, then back to Novik. “Give me six hours.”

— —

“Boss, three reports intercepted from secure, heavily-encrypted channels. All high-profile killings, all on European soil.”

Tony Stark, though intrigued, did not look up from the task at hand: himself perched adroitly along the rim of the tub, lathering your naked body in sweet-smelling soaps; you, slumped uncouthly in the cradle of the bath, glaring up at him with defiant eyes and murder in the tick of your jaw.

“Time window?” he questioned after a pause, lowering one sudsy hand to knead at your lower belly and grinning wolfishly when you couldn’t smother a quiet whine.

“Six days.”

“Locales?”

“Qormi, Malta; Kutaisi, Georgia; and Gomel, Belarus.”

Stark hummed in lieu of answer, a vaguely preoccupied look in his narrowed gaze. His large, calloused fingers didn’t cease their humiliating ministrations over your quivering belly, making you pant in an effort to hold back a low, guttural trill.

“In that order?”

“Yes, boss.”

You hated him. You fucking hated him.

“Walks like Natasha, quacks like Natasha…” he trailed off, giving your belly one last squeeze before withdrawing slightly to cup your other hip with his palm. “Probably Natasha.”

You’d only just begun regaining your strength following the latest procedure, though not nearly enough to do anything other than glare.

Stark slanted his gaze back over to you. If he was at all cowed by the force of your glower, he did well not to show it. “You’re adorable when you’re plotting my demise, y’know that?”

It took everything within you not to roll your eyes.

— —

“So, how was White Russia? Eat any draniki?” Stark questioned as he settled bodily into an armchair, gesturing for Natasha to seat herself on the settee across from him.

She did, her features calm and impassive. Her shrewd gaze flit to you once, but was quick to refocus. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“C’mon, give me something,” Stark carped, huffing petulantly. You couldn’t see his face from this angle, only the back of his head and a bit of bearded cheek, but you imagined he was probably pouting like a third grader. “For old times’ sake?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Guilty as charged,” Stark quipped. “Though, I suppose I can’t say the same for Novik. He didn’t even get a trial.”

Natasha’s placid expression did not falter. “Who?”

“You know what, I’m just gonna give you this one—”

“Generous.”

“—but only because we’ve achieved a mind-blowing amount of progress within the past couple weeks. Like, seriously: mind-blowing.”

You felt yourself shudder at the reminder. Progress, indeed.

“Oh?” Natasha queried lightly, brows raised. Once more, her gaze dipped to you… and stayed there.

You ducked your head and averted your eyes, cheeks aflame. You’d grown accustomed to being naked around Stark—mainly because you didn’t have a choice. But Natasha…

For the first time in years, you found yourself missing your long hair, the way you could cower behind it at a moment’s notice. Now, you were exposed. Vulnerable.

“I trust they were well-behaved?”

“You know they weren’t,” Stark disputed, letting out a derisive snort. “Honestly, I don’t know why you don’t let me fix that.”

“Your funeral.”

Natasha’s lips twitched, though she remained silent. Then, after a beat or two— “Your progress?” she prompted.

“Right, so, here’s the run-down…”

— —

You’d tuned out for the most part as Stark began his long-winded, vainglorious speech to Natasha about his—your—successes since last they’d spoken. Much as you understood it was likely prudent to listen in, acquire a little more knowledge on what exactly he’d done to you, you’d also been there long enough to know that it probably wouldn’t have made a difference anyhow.

Natasha would do with you as she pleased. Stark, too, provided Natasha was the one asking.

In the beginning, that intrigued you. Made you want to learn more about them and their dynamic; to understand why it was what it was. You didn’t get why Stark would run, jump, and heel for the likes of her—intimidation factor notwithstanding.

By this point, that intrigue had since dwindled, if not dissipated entirely. It was what it was; consequently, they were, too.

You were still angry and strong-willed and a far cry from broken, but you weren’t stupid, either. Just because they treated you like a chained-up dog didn’t mean you had to gnaw off your own limbs in a desperate bid to escape like one.

And, besides… it wasn’t often you got moments like these. Moments where you weren’t being poked and prodded and shot up with God knows what. You were collared, sure, your body riddled with all kinds of aches and pains, but none of it held a candle to the agony you’d known in days past.

Lost in your head though you were, months’ worth of training ensured you didn’t miss the moment Natasha called you over.

“Ко мне,” she spoke, pitching her voice just above appropriate speaking volume.

It was like someone lit a fire under your ass. The second you heard it, you shot up on all fours. Pain came fast on its heels, but you grit your teeth and bore it, swallowing down a cry as soreness shot through your hands—you flat-out refused to call them ‘paws’—like wildfire. Every heightened reflex stood on high alert. Your back, too, felt like it was on fire, spinal column alight with tenderness.

Still, it wasn’t nearly so bad as it’d been a week back, when you awoke in observation all bandaged up and so acutely in pain, you feared it might kill you. You also knew better than to dawdle. Clenching your jaw tight, you shuffled forth on sore palms and bruised knees. Your muscles burned.

You were grateful to feel the tip of your nose graze Natasha’s jean-clad knee, signaling a justifiable stopping point.

“Молодец,” she praised, her voice pitched an octave (or two) higher, and you felt like singing.

You even arched your poor, aching back in a shameless effort to attract… well, something, you supposed. Head pats, perhaps. An open-handed stroke down your spine, even.

Damn that animal, desire-seeking hindbrain.

Fortunately, Natasha seemed to understand. Her palm met the nape of your neck, slender fingers curling their way into the mess of hair at the back of your scalp—God, but that felt divine. A mounting hum in the back of your throat was all the warning you got before—

Fuck. Immediately, you clamped your mouth shut, and the sound—along with the pleasurable vibrations—stopped altogether.

Not again.

“Ah-ah-ah, puppy,” Natasha tutted, her free hand descending to squeeze your nose tight—effectively cutting off your air supply. And still, the other remained; combing through freshly-washed hair at the base of your skull, occasionally scritching your scalp with the tips of her blunt nails until the insides of your throat quivered and your jaw hurt from clenching it so hard. It was all you could do to keep from opening right back up and giving her a nice long purr. (Which, you’d deduced, was exactly what she wanted.) “None of that.”

She was using English now, you noticed.

And, just like that, the realization hit that she hadn’t been before.

Now, you could… you could hear her words and understand them, and from that understanding know their meaning. Before, it was like… like hearing the words and knowing what they were supposed to mean, then acting accordingly. You couldn’t take apart the syllables, the letters in your head, not like you could with English.

P-u-p-p-y. That spelled ‘puppy.’ When you tried to conjure the word she’d used to summon you over, there was just… nothing. A blank space. A short one, telling you you knew the approximate length of the word you were looking for, but… empty.

Your gaze darted to Stark, who just slouched back in his cushy armchair looking immeasurably pleased with himself. At any other time, the mere sight would’ve been enough to spark some measure of annoyance within you.

Now… Now, all you could feel was fear.

He didn’t do that, did he? He… he couldn’t’ve.

All the rest of it: the obedience, the meekness—that? That was conditioning, plain and simple. You weren’t exactly a PhD, but it didn’t take a genius to note down from the very start that some behaviors got you alone time in a small, dark room without food or water or sunlight for days on end, and others got you… well, not that. By a certain point, you would beg him to yell at you, choke you out, take you over his knee and spank your ass raw when you misbehaved; something, anything, so long as it wasn’t that. 2 times out of 10, he’d take you up on that. As for the other 8… well.

But this—implanting knowledge in your subconscious, tuning it to mimic compulsory behavioral urges, all while you remained none the wiser? That was a hell of a lot more complicated than reworking your spine, or tweaking sensory receptors, or even altering your vocal tract to make that obnoxious purr.

It was like he’d rewired your brain.

You didn’t even notice that you’d since relented: gasped out what little breath remained and began wheezing, all doubled-over, sucking in new breaths of air like a half-drowned cat. Though, you sure as hell noticed how that rattling, restless, vibrating sensation arose in your throat with every shuddering inhale; how, on every exhale came exactly what you’d feared—that pathetic, trilling purr. The one that warmed your body from head to toe while simultaneously making you wish you had never been fucking born.

God, but Natasha’s hands were like magic…

Your head still spun. Was it from the oxygen deprivation, or the realization that Stark had been inside your head? Probably both.

Terrified, dazed, and overwhelmingly confused, it took you some time to re-center; tuning back into Stark and Natasha’s conversation, if only to posture yourself accordingly. You could figure out the rest later, you reasoned.

“… The spinal alterations don’t inhibit their ability to stand upright, by any means, which is the exciting thing,” Stark was saying, damn near perched at the edge of his seat—almost vibrating with renewed vigor. Weirdo. “They just enhance their natural capacity to remain down on all fours and go about their day for extended periods of time: a day, a week… hell, indefinitely! Which, for humans, would be pretty much unthinkable. I mean, can you imagine?”

Without allowing a moment’s pause for Natasha to respond (which you’d come to understand was quite typical), Stark wasted no time in steamrolling on. “‘Course, the process of transplanting new bones was rather tricky, and we had to do a couple of them more than once. Dr. Cho estimates a week—at most—before they’ve healed enough to allow for more… strenuous physical activity.”

Natasha snorted. Her hand had long stilled its pleasant ministrations in favor of resting inert at the base of your skull, slender fingers curled loosely around your nape. You felt how they twitched and tightened their grip ever-so-slightly when Stark spoke of what he’d done to your spine. “Are they in pain?”

Funny. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought she cared.

Stark raised a brow. “Ballpark?”

Natasha must’ve nodded, or dipped her chin in confirmation, because a beat later, Stark spoke again.

“Imagine you got ripped open, rearranged, then stitched back up,” he summed up. “Twice.”

Dimly, it registered within you to be struck by his forthrightness, though you did not dare mistake it for empathy.

Natasha was quiet for a beat. “Sounds about right,” she said eventually.

“It doesn’t have to be this bad,” Stark offered, though there was a curious shift in his intonation, this time; a knowing and almost resigned look in his eye that made you wonder if he and Natasha had had this conversation before.

The way Natasha’s hand twitched, blunt nails digging into the skin of your nape, was answer enough.

“Were I their doctor, I’d be prescribing some serious pain meds,” Stark continued on dryly, making a show of tilting his head and gazing off into the distance as though he was deep in thought. “Morphine, oxycodone—“

“No.”

“—maybe a local anesthetic or two,” he mused, beginning to count them out on his fingers. “Anti-inflammatories. Anticonvulsants. Something for the anxiety, even—”

“I wanted a pet, not a vegetable.”

Stark’s lips twitched—though with exasperation or humor, you could not tell. “Do you realize how quickly even the most powerful anesthetics will metabolize through their system? They’re not human anymore, Red. At least, not entirely.”

Now, that piqued your interest.

“Neither am I.”

“It’s different for them. You know that. You got Erskine’s serum. Some unrefined bootleg variant, granted, but that man was nothing if not brilliant. Everything he touched, he turned to gold.” Stark spoke of him—this ‘Erskine’—as though he put the very stars in the sky. You wondered if he was truly brilliant, or just insane. You wondered if for Stark, there was any difference. “As for them… well.” He gestured vaguely towards you. “They got some anthropomorphic whack job’s bone marrow.”

You blinked. You got what now?

“He has a name, you know,” Natasha commented archly, the earlier indignation having dissipated from her tone.

“Point being—I’ve met the guy. He’s seriously unhinged.” He paused there, as if expecting Natasha to argue. When she didn’t, he steamrolled on: “I had F.R.I.D.A.Y. scavenge some digitized medical reports and psych evals from his time at the facility, along with anything else they could piece together after he escaped. Violently, I might add.”

“I won’t say he’s devoid of empathy, or a moral compass, because we both know that that’s not true,” Stark explained, then muttered under his breath: “Even if his senses of both concepts are seriously skewed.”

“Tony,” Natasha interjected, a note of warning in her voice.

“Just listen, alright? I’m getting there.” Stark huffed out a sigh, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “My point is that he wasn’t like that, at the start. He was no saint, to be sure, but he wasn’t like that. It wasn’t until they started a particularly ill-inspired series of ‘tests’—though I’d argue a better term would be ‘torture sessions’—to assess his healing capabilities that he really started losing his marbles.”

You head was beginning to spin. Your jaw ached from clenching it so hard. Who were they talking about?

“See, because his capabilities—extraordinary as they were—weren’t superhuman. They didn’t transcend healing itself, let alone make it any less painful to endure. In fact, I think they actually concluded that it was made more painful by his body’s ability to undertake those processes at such an expeditious rate.” Stark breathed out another heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he could feel a headache brewing.

He wasn’t the only one.

“He nearly went insane, Natasha. Joking aside, it almost beggars belief that he’s as high-functioning as he is,” Stark asserted, no longer pulling his punches. “I know you don’t want that for them.”

It was silent for a beat… Then two.

“Fine.”

Stark promptly quieted, renewed interest sparking itself alight in his gaze. “What was that now?”

“I said, ‘Fine.’”

A slow grin spread across his clean-shaven features.

“No opioids,” Natasha was quick to amend. “Nothing addictive. Just… anything that’ll help more than it’ll hurt.”

Silence for a beat. Then two.

Stark squinted at her. “You sure you and that bleeding heart of yours are up for this?”

Natasha’s grip around your nape tightened even further. “Shellhead,” she gritted out, her tone hard as weathered steel. Even the sound of it was enough to send chills down your spine.

Stark, in contrast, was not at all similarly affected. He simply tilted his head to one side and made a show of continuing to appraise her with shrewd, assessing eyes. Then, finally: “You should try yoga.”

— —

end notes: L O fucking L

also the anthropomorphic whack job they’re talking about is logan (wolverine) from x-men, in case you’re wondering

edit: i’ve since written a continuation of this, linked below!

translation of russian terms (with stresses bolded):

ко мне | ko mnye | “come”

молодец | molodyets | excellent, good

sources:

“organized crime in eastern europe” | to be so clear, i just made up “bratyerstva” from the term “братство” (bratstvo) which means “brotherhood” or “fraternity” in bulgarian, macedonian, russian, and serbo-croatian dialects. it is also the name of a ukrainian political party (ukrainian: братство, romanized: bratstvo), but it is not an actual belarusian word. it also bears some resemblance to братва, a slang term used to refer to criminal gangs in russia and other ex-ussr states. honestly, the closest you’d probably get to an actual word with this would be the polish “braterstwo” (brahterstvo) which also means “brotherhood” or “fraternity.” (however, in some informal contexts, the term “братерство” has been used in ukrainian dialects to convey synonymous meanings.) anyway, this is a brief snippet (~10 pages) from an academic article about organized crime in eastern europe, if the precedent behind all that intrigues you. i thought it was pretty informative!

white russia | another name for belarus, though there’s some controversy/nuance to that (and big surprise, it’s got everything to do with russia). this links to an article from euronews talking about... all of that

draniki | an immensely popular dish in belarus. they’re basically potato pancakes. several other european countries have close equivalents.

— —

next part: come, sit, stay

link to masterlist

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x gnc!reader #dark!natasha romanoff #softdark!natasha romanoff x reader #stuff i wrote

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