#bisexual natasha romanoff

[starkenobi]

Sleepover | Natasha Romanoff x reader

masterlist — read on ao3

Summary: Living an unrequited love is not easy, but it's necessary to realize the time to move on. Or, reader is secretly in love with her best friend Natasha, who's getting married to another person.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, unrequited love, inspired by hayley kiyoko song sleepover.

“Are you sure about this dress?” Natasha asked, nibbling her bottom lip as she turned slightly to face her reflection in the mirror.

“Of course,” the other girl said in a quiet voice, glancing for a moment the redhead before turning around to pick up what she needed to decorate Natasha’s hair. “I picked this dress thinking of you.”

Natasha hummed satisfied, sitting in the chair facing the dresser, an anxious smile on her lips. “I can’t believe it’s dinner rehearsal already.” chuckling, Natasha stared at her friend in the reflection, murmuring amid a smile. “In a week I’ll be Mrs. Barnes, it’s so strange.”

“Yeah. I never thought you’d marry him.” Y/N muttered to herself, trying to hide her own feelings on the subject. Quickly finishing Natasha’s hairstyle, she moved away from the chair to put the things in the bag on the bed. “You’re okay to go. I’m just gonna pack my things and meet you there.”

Y/N’s heart was heavy on her chest, but she tried her best to sound casual. She thanked mentally that Natasha was so dispersed, at least she could disguise better what she felt in front of the redhead. But Natasha, as always wouldn’t do what she wanted, approaching  with long strides and holding one of her hands. Y/N then stopped what she was doing, turning towards the redhead. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

“No. You’re going with me,” Natasha stated, pulling her by the hand and right out of the room. “I need my best friend.”

It was always like this. She'd always be there for Natasha, the powerful duo of spies, the noisy girls taking over the world. Inseparable. They’d be always doing something together or planning to. It was their thing. She’d help Natasha to pick out what to wear, doing sleepovers all the time and annoying the boys. But Natasha would never understand her feelings, would never read the truth in her eyes. Even when Natasha held her hand, she would always feel alone. She tried to think that she preferred to see Natasha happy, that she shouldn’t be selfish.

But was all her suffering worth it? She was so tired of having to escape from reality, of having to hide inside her own head. What used to be dreams now have become nightmares. Well, at least she had Natasha the way she really wanted to when she was hiding. Right? Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn’t have nurtured her hopes, she shouldn’t have agreed to be part of the Avengers. She shouldn’t have fallen in love years ago.

She couldn’t cry. Y/N couldn’t tell what she felt nor put her own feelings on first. She loved Natasha, but she wasn’t selfish enough. The redhead already had someone for the role of lover and was finally happy. Natasha had chosen her as best friend. And, yes, it broke her heart every time she saw them together. But there was nothing else she could do. 

Take a deep breath. Y/N thought to herself, trying not to pay attention to what was happening on the balcony of the large hotel room. Life is full of ironies, and she couldn’t believe in her own bad luck. Among thousands of people, why did it have to be her? Unable to restrain herself, Y/N stopped staring at the empty bottle of beer in her hands and looked up at the excited group. The redhead was smiling to the point where her eyes were shining with happiness. Natasha leaned her body against the man with broad shoulders and metal arm, as he held her with all affection and delicacy of the world. Bucky Barnes and Natasha had a history together, they reconnected, and he made her happy. It's like out of a goddamn movie. It was too much to watch.

As quiet as possible, she set the empty bottle on the coffee table and rose from the sofa. Throwing her hands into the pockets of her jacket, Y/N didn’t think twice about striding up to the elevator. The fear that one of the boys might notice her escape made Y/N feel even worse. Why? Because she was running away like a coward. Because she couldn’t be happy about her best friend's union with one of her friends. Y/N felt dirty. As soon as the metal doors closed, her shoulders slumped, and a faint sigh escaped her lips. For a brief moment, Y/N closed her eyes before staring at the ceiling, trying to focus on controlling her uneven breathing. She couldn’t allow her emotions to take over, but with each passing day, it became more difficult. With every tick of the clock, she understood the certainty that she’d never find someone who would accept her.

The distance from the elevator to her room never seemed so long. It was practically a walk of shame, but Y/N was glad that at least no one was seeing the current state she was in. Finally, entering her room, Y/N threw herself on the bed and buried her face in the pillows. Unfortunately, to her despair, she wasn’t able to spend much time drowning in self-pity party. In the middle of the dimly lit room, the door opened and closed soon after. Y/N heard light footsteps approaching and didn’t even need to hear the person’s voice to know who it was. Y/N felt her heart tightening inside her chest.

The mattress beside her sank and soon she heard Natasha’s melodious voice. “Are you okay?”

“I’m feeling low,” without moving any part of her body, Y/N kept her face hidden in the pillows, muffling her voice. “I guess it was the drinks.”

“Are you sure?” Natasha tried to press, stroking her hair in an attempt to look at Y/N’s face. “You know you can count on me, right?“

“Yeah, I know.”

An awkward silence took over, making Natasha hesitant for a moment. “I’ll be here whenever you need to. Friends forever, right?”

I can think of something better, Y/N thought bitterly but pushing that feeling aside she grumbled. “Yeah…”

“Do you need something? I can ask Bucky to-” the redhead tried again, but it only made the feeling inside Y/N gets worse, at that moment she hated the fond tone of the other girl.

Y/N cut Natasha off, still avoiding looking her in the eyes. “No. I wanna sleep.”

“Huh,” Natasha frowned, this behavior wasn’t normal for her friend but knew it wouldn’t be good to force her to talk. “Sure, so, we talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Now go, Bucky must be waiting for you.”

“Okay, cupcake, tomorrow then.” letting out a defeated sigh, Natasha allowed her fingers to caress Y/N’s hair before getting up from the bed.  Natasha walked towards the door, stopping one last time  to look at the other girl still motionless on the mattress. “I love you, Y/N.”

Natasha didn’t wait for an answer, leaving the room with her head down and closing the door with a delicate thud. The silence seemed to finally swallow Y/N, the weight of pain and guilt crushing the young woman's heart. After an eternal minute, the feeling of loneliness took control, Y/N turned around in her bed. She shouldn’t have fallen in love years ago. She wanted so much to go back in time.

Staring at nothing, Y/N allowed herself to cry once more until she fell asleep. Wishing from the bottom of her heart that everything was only another bad dream.

comments, likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated! thank you for reading and supporting my writing 💜

[scarlettblip]

Random citizen: fuck the feds!

Maria: I am the feds.

Natasha: don’t worry she is getting fucked daily.

Maria: can you not??

[widowpunx]

I'M A STRANGER TO YOUR LOVE

Jealous Wanda Maximoff/Flirt Natasha Romanoff [Friends to Lovers]

Wanda has always known she and Natasha are just friends ... BEST FRIENDS. However she can't stop her heart from breaking into little pieces every time Natasha flirts with others.

[thevampireazula]

Natasha: who’d you want me to be?

Steve: how bout a friend?

Natasha: there’s a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers

Steve: yeah no shit, I’m too gay and tired for this crap

Bucky spying on them as TWS: oh… so THIS is what Pierce meant when he said “take out Captain America”

Natasha: I literally can't find a girl who's your type. Steve: *deep breath* [Grindr notification sound]

[shslbunnylover]

Can I request a fic where Natasha romanoff and the reader are married for tax pourposes, and nat fogets she's married until someone starts talking about her wife that they met on a mission?

With mean nat, and some smut?

🥝

★ ★ ★ A much needed reminder ★ ★ ★

Character: Natasha Romanoff

Summary: After Natasha forgets about your marriage that was based on convenience, she realizes just how much she loves you.

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger Warnings: NSFW, slight angst and mention of unrequited love, Daddy kink, choking kink, slight spanking, rough sex, mean(ish) Natasha, G!P Natasha (with condom), slight dacryphilia,

Genre: Smut

Author's Note: I've been revived!!

Word Count: 4.02k

Natasha Romanoff. Feared Avenger, skilled assassin, and your wife. Well...not so much the last part. Your relationship was mostly out of convenience, leaving you, who had fallen in love with Natasha a few months into your relationship, heartbroken and bitter against the world. You were literally married to this woman, yet she was nothing more than a stranger most nights.

The two of you had lived in the Avengers Tower for around a year when she brought the concept of a convenience-based marriage. She dragged you into a dark room, and you had honestly believed that you were about to meet death right then and there until she had dropped that bombshell.

"We need to get married," She had stated bluntly, looking down at you as you sat in the chair she had practically forced you into.

"Huh-? Natasha, what the hell??" You replied, looking up at the redhead as the slight slivers of light from the window illuminated her sharp green eyes as they stared down at you.

A few long moments pass, the only noise in the room being that of her and you breathing.

She sighed, just blinking for a minute before sitting down.

"Look, Y/N..." Natasha began, twirling a pen on her fingers, the ball point moving quickly as it spun around in her hand.

Your vision fell to the pen, then back up to the assassin.

"Out of every Avenger here, you're the one I'm most comfortable doing this with. This isn't anything romantic, but it's purely for our benefit," She explained, her hands placed on the table as she leaned in.

"Our benefit? How exactly?" You looked at her curiously, becoming intrigued by the offer against your better judgment.

"Tax benefits, credits to be specific. It would also be a way for you to ward off those annoying ass fans of yours," Natasha's head gestured to your left towards the only window (and light source) in the room that gave a view of the city below.

You sighed, you knew that last statement was true. As an Avenger, when you gained strength you would also have creepy and obsessed fans who would devote their life to you in some parasocial relationship. Being single didn't help that either, and with having The Black Widow holding your hand out in public acting as your wife, you knew the amount of obsessed fans (public ones at least) would decrease.

"You don't have to agree to this, but if you want it, meet me in my compound later," She'd said before leaving the room.

You sat in that room for a long while, debating your options.

But eventually you came to a conclusion.

"Natasha?" You knocked on the redhead's door, sighing as she opened the door. "We have a deal."

You barely managed to see the notoriously rude Avenger crack a small smile.

"Alright, we'll figure out the legal shit in the morning," Her smile dropped once again, before gently shutting the door.

The two of you were married in the courthouse after less than a week following the conversation in the room, leaving you married in the eyes of the general public and more importantly the government and tax office.

Nothing had really changed between you two in terms of your emotional connection. Sure the other Avengers would tease you about being married and would constantly compare the two of you to complete rocks when it came to the love in your marriage, but you didn't mind because you and her were only in this for convenience, it wasn't like you actually liked each other.

That last fact however, changed around a year into your "marriage".

You sat alone in the main lounge room in the tower, most of the others out on some minor missions, almost the entire crew excluding you and Natasha, who had been injured in a previous mission and was forced to stay at the compound. As her "spouse", the rest of the crew sacrificed you to stay with her under yet another one of their "funny" jokes against your arrangement. You didn't really mind being told to stay in the building though, it gave you a free day off.

Turned on in the background was some random reality TV show that consisted more of fake tears and drama then any actual real glimpse of human emotion, but it was still your vice nonetheless.

With your feet propped on the couch and a bowl of leftover Chinese food in your hands, you watched the show on the television with lazy eyes. You didn't have any real responsibilities at the moment, Natasha was way too stubborn to even think about letting you take care of her, no matter how "married" you may have been to the rest of the team.

About an hour passed when you heard the assassin's voice come out of the hallway in a groan.

"Ah shit-" She grimaced, walking down the hallway, her stubborn self still refusing any help, even in the form of leaning on the wall.

"Nat?" You paused the TV, placing your bowl of rice on the table before standing up to see what was going on behind you.

"What-?" She gritted her teeth, her bandaged leg faltering her steps and forcing the redhead to slow her pace.

"You know you were told to relax and call me if you needed anything," You sighed, looking your wife up and down in a disapproving manner.

"Y/N, I don't need your help," Natasha scoffed, ever the unwilling to receive assistance.

You let out yet another exhale, and you pulled her to the couch you were once sitting on.

"Yes you do, I'm taking care of this wound," You grabbed a first aid kit before kneeling in front of her to unwrap the old bandages.

You placed gauze on the wound, gentle against the assassin's skin so as to not aggravate the wound.

With gentle hands the assassin obviously wasn't used to, you finished cleaning up her leg, before gently placing Natasha's leg down.

You looked up when you heard her laugh.

"What?"

"You're just like a little housewife aren't you?" She smirked, looking down at you with a cocky expression.

Your eyes widened, and your heart felt as if it was both stopping and speeding up at the exact same time.

Your face broke out into a small blush, and you remained quiet, just darting your eyes away from the green eyes gleaming down at you with a mixture of mischief and teasing.

Fuck.

Later came one of Tony's infamous parties, you'd gotten all dressed up, wearing a small pink dress that highlighted your body, falling right above your knees.

Since the incident that revealed your feelings, you and Natasha didn't even talk, once again returning to strangers. You acted like the other didn't exist, despite feeling empty without the redhead around you. But you attempted to be away from Natasha as much as possible in an attempt to squish your feelings for the older woman.

You stood against the wall, chatting with an old friend who also happened to be a minor acquaintance of Tony's. Your eyes glanced over, and you found yourself staring at Natasha as she discussed...well...whatever she was discussing was some random thing you didn't seem to recall knowing. You assumed her to be another acquaintance of Tony's, most likely an employee or even a news reporter, though you decided on the former.

A small exhale escaped your lips before you turned back to your old friend.

"So, what's been up with you? It's been so long since I've seen you!" You smiled.

"Life's been so chaotic, Y/N, I tell you! But the chaos has honestly all been worth it. After all, I did gain a husband out of it!" They held up their hand, the medium sized diamond on their ring shining under the florescent light of the room.

You gasped.

"You got married??" You exclaimed excitedly.

They nodded.

"I tell you, I didn't see it coming, but married life has been amazing! The man I've loved for 7 years only seems that more special to me, and I didn't even know that was possible!"

In response, you took a sip of your drink, looking down at the hand that held the glass. You internally sighed at the lack of a ring on your finger, but you went back to a smile so as to not give away any sense of the heartbreak you were experiencing.

You were originally okay with the arrangement you shared with Natasha, because you never had feelings for the assassin and it wouldn't feel like you had everything you wanted but at the same time nothing you wanted.

But that changed.

You didn't understand where the feelings began, but now your life felt like an empty shell. On the outside, you were married to the one you loved. But on the inside, there was no love in your relationship.

It was all for convenience.

You two hadn't even come in the same car to this party, what made you think you were worthy of truly being married to the woman of your dreams.

Little did you know that Natasha had begun to match your feelings as well, but hid them as much as possible...

"So, Romanoff, what are you up to?" The man Natasha was talking to asked.

"What do you mean?" Natasha asked.

"Have you finally settled down and got yourself a partner?" He pushed her shoulder jokingly.

Natasha tilted her head, crossing her arms.

"No," She said genuinely, seemingly forgetting your entire existence.

"Really? Damn," He sighed with a laugh, adjusting his lean against the wall and smirking.

"What about you?" Natasha questioned out of obligation; she always hated these parties, especially when people she was barely acquainted with came up to her and asked about her personal life.

"I haven't gotten a partner yet...but, I met this cutie on a mission and I'm gonna ask them out," He replied, his smirk only increasing.

The redhead raised her eyebrows in curiosity.

"Really? Who?" She asked.

The man pointed his thumb to the side gesturing to you as you continued to talk with the old friend of yours.

"The one in the pink," He licked his lips.

The redhead looked around, before eventually finding who he was pointing at. When she saw it was you he was pointing at, a rush of anger coursed through every one of Natasha's veins, and she felt one of them sticking out of her forehead.

"They're married." Natasha spat, biting the inside of her cheek.

The man furrowed his eyebrows.

"Really? They don't have a wedding ring, and they never mentioned it," He looked over at you.

Natasha grit her teeth, clenching her fists.

"Yeah. They're married," She glared.

"Woah, okay!" The man laughed nervously. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

Natasha adjusted her lean, and she looked off to the side.

"I don't have anything in a twist, just giving you the truth," She tossed her braid over her shoulder.

The man gave her an awkward look, but eventually rolled his eyes.

"Alright Romanoff, whatever you say," He replied.

Hours passed and Natasha stood in the back silently, recollecting her feelings towards you and your marriage in general.

When that man mentioned you, she had felt guilt washing through her veins. She actually forgot about your marriage. Why did that make her upset though? She wasn't supposed to actually fall in love with you... She hadn't had a crush in years before she realized her feelings for you. She felt her heart beating faster than normal when she saw you, and she recently felt the need to actually be yours for the rest of your life.

Why did this have to be so confusing?

The end of the party finally came, and Natasha looked up to see you leaving.

It was now or never.

Natasha pushed herself off the wall, and she quickly followed you before grabbing your hand.

You snapped your head to find the redheaded assassin looking at you with an angry and jealous expression.

"Nat-?" You stuttered, feeling your legs go weak at your wife's dominant nature.

"Do you want to come home with me?" She practically growled. "Just answer yes or no."

You blushed, your eyes darting around the room and eventually locking with Natasha's green irises.

You didn't understand where any of this had come from, one moment you were walking home alone and now you were being held by the wrist by the woman of your dreams.

"Yes-" You blurted without thinking, your libido and heart acting before your brain could even process the situation.

Natasha gripped your hand, storming out towards her car faster than she thought her legs would carry her just to be with a person. She'd only moved this quickly to either carry out a mission or to train, never for a person she wanted to be with. No, the feared Black Widow never chased after anyone. But tonight that had changed.

She practically threw you into the passenger's seat of her car, buckling your seatbelt for you before making a beeline for her own spot in the car.

You sat there in shock as Natasha started the engine before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Natasha...what is this?" You asked, pressing your thighs together as a sense of arousal coursed through your body.

"Малышка...I'm in love with you. I can't stand this marriage not being anything more than tax benefits. I want you. I need you." Her hand found its way to your thigh, her palm and digits can eerily close to where you needed her most.

"Natasha..." You repeated her name like a prayer. "I need you too...I can't handle this. Since I took care of you that day, I needed you. Either to kiss my lips or fuck me senseless, I've needed you for too long,"

Natasha's grip on your thigh tightened, and a small moan escaped your lips as her digits snaked closer and closer to your achy and needy pussy.

"Keep talking like that, Ангел, and I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to utter anything but my name and your beautiful moans," The redhead kept one hand on the steering wheel, practically glaring at the road ahead.

"Maybe I want that..." Your hand overlaps the one on your thigh, and you move Natasha's hand to cup your heated sex, allowing a moan to escape both your lips and Natasha's.

"What are you comfortable with? I want you to enjoy this as much as I do," She said, her voice husky from her heightened libido.

"I want you to do whatever you want, I love anything minus ass stuff, choke me, spank me, do whatever, I just need you,"

The assassin rolled her head back.

"God damn it Ангел..." She groaned, and even in the darkness, you noticed a small bulge sticking out of her pants, *she was hard*.

You knew she had a cock, you'd heard her mention it during her discussion with you about her life in the red room. But God you didn't know it was that big.

"Nat...you're hard-" You blurted, as if you hadn't just said the most obvious thing in the world.

"I know, принцесса," Natasha maneuvered your hand to place it on her cock, her Russian accent bleeding through her words the more and more worked up she got. "Look what you do to me, моя маленькая шлюшка,"

Her husky and slightly strained voice only made your pussy all the more soaked, and you shuddered at the feeling of her rock hard cock under your palm and her clothes.

"I-I..." You faltered, unable to say anything at all as you kept your hand virtual glued to her cock.

"We're almost home, no one else will be there, so I wanna hear your moans get as loud as possible. I want to hear every noise your beautiful voice makes," Natasha groaned, rutting her hard cock against the palm of your hand.

"Yes Nat..." You whimpered, squirming in your seat while your achy pussy sat in its own arousal.

"Good girl," She breathed, finally pulling into the tower's parking lot before unbuckling you and scooping your body up into her arms as if you weighed no more than a feather to her.

She carried you to her room in the compound, throwing you onto her king sized bed that laid somewhat prominent in her bedroom.

"Natasha," You repeated her name for the umpteenth time that night, your brain seemingly already fried enough so that you couldn't say anything but her name despite her having barely even touched you. "Please...take me,"

The assassin unzipped her pants, allowing for her cock to finally be released from the constraints that left both of you frustrated.

You groaned at the sight of her dick as she pulled down her pants along with her underwear, leaving her with an obviously erect eight and a half inch cock in her hand.

She looked over at you, eventually leaning down and sliding off your dress with skilled fingers. The pink fabric was tossed on the floor alongside her bottom garments, leaving you in just your underwear.

"God you know...I've wanted this for so long, to feel like we were actually married. To feel like you're actually mine..." She smashed her lips into yours, her hand finding its way around your neck and squeezing just enough at the sides to make your pussy clench around nothing.

You moaned at the rough treatment your neck was enduring, and your legs remained shaky as Natasha positioned herself between them.

She left hickeys across the sensitive flesh on your neck, moans escaping you every time she released your skin from the grip of her lips.

"You know, I've had my hand stroking my cock for months, wondering how tight this little pussy would be just for me-" Natasha bit down on your neck, slapping your wet and achy pussy to emphasize your statement.

"Oh God-!" You cried out at the spanking on your sore cunt.

Natasha virtually ripped off your lacy white underwear, and followed along with your bra, releasing your tits from the cage that had been restricting her from the sight of your soft breasts for the whole night.

"Do you want this?" She asked, lifting her mouth up from your soft and supple skin that had been littered with blemishes to look straight in your eyes.

"Yes- I want this..." You shuddered under her touch, a small cry stuck in your throat that developed under the constant teasing.

"Y/N, are you sure?" The green-eyed woman looked at you, a sudden but very brief sense of kindness and care flooding over her otherwise angry and horny gaze.

"Yes- Please! Just don't tease any more-! Please Daddy!" You cried, the sinful noise finally escaping your throat as your head rolled back.

You paused right after the moan left your mouth, your eyes widening and your hand immediately slapping over your mouth.

"Oh God- Natasha I'm so-"

Natasha gripped at your throat.

"Don't. Apologize." She growled, pumping her cock with her hand to get it nice and ready for your little cunt. "But if you keep calling me that I will fuck that cunt until you're crying, or do you not want that?"

You looked up at her as she loomed over your body.

"No- I want that..." You panted, your chest slowly rising and falling as the air around you became hotter.

"Give me your safe word," Natasha demanded.

"Red," You replied, your arousal somehow increasing at the kindness your wife showed even in her most turned on state.

"Good girl," She purred, her lips pressing into yours once again, both literally and figuratively taking your breath away.

Natasha grabbed a condom off of her nightstand, ripping the foil and sliding the rubber around her thick and hardened cock.

"Daddy...God you're so big..." Your eyes fell to her cock.

"I know, принцecca," The assassin smirked, leaning down to blow softly on your pussy, the sudden cold chill sending shivers down your spine.

Your skin raised under the cold breath she let out between your thighs, and you gripped at her braid.

"Please- Daddy- Don't tease," You begged, your voice wavering under her denial.

She smirked, licking a single stripe up your wet slit. Natasha clicked her tongue a few times, and she cooed at you.

"Ohhh...I know Малышка, you just *need* Daddy's cock in you, don't you?" She smirked, looking up at you.

You nodded violently.

"Please Daddy! Please just fill me up! I'll be good, please just fill me up!" You cried, the feeling of her tongue on you making your body ache for more.

"Such a good girl, I love hearing you beg," Natasha kissed your lips softly before sliding her dick between your folds, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

You moaned at the feeling of her rubbing your clit, but your moan only became louder as she pushed herself inside of you, the tip of her dick rubbing right up against your G-spot.

"Fuck-! Daddy-!!" You moaned, gripping at the sheets below as her cock slipped in and out of your cunt.

You gripped at her hair, your fingers finding their way through her tightly braided locks.

Natasha grunted as she rutted in and out of your tight pussy.

“Damn it Малышка, I never thought you'd be this wet for me…you're beautiful…your hair spread out like this, your pretty pussy clenching around my cock…” She panted, slamming her hips into yours, the sounds of sex filling the environment around you.

Sweat drilled down your face, and your hands quickly made their way to the redhead’s shirt, unbuttoning it and pulling her bra off with the other fabric.

You leaned in, pulling her close as you kissed down her neck, the only thing interrupting your movements being the cries and moans that left your lips.

“Please, please. Oh God!” You groaned against her.

“I know slut, it feels good doesn't it? Doesn't it feel so good? Fucking christ-” Natasha moaned, her orgasm creeping up on her body as her movements got more and more erratic the closer she got to finishing.

“Daddy…I'm gonna come! Please! I'm gonna come! Please let me cum! I've been such a good girl for you! Please!!” You kissed her passionately, your fingers digging into her skin for any sense of support.

Natasha groaned.

“Me too, come with me принцecca,” Natasha gripped your throat, leaving somewhat visible handprints on your flesh. “Боже мой!! Черт возьми, принцесса! Ты мне нужен! Дерьмо! Ебать!!” She slammed her hips into you, her cum coating the inside of the condom as she finished.

“Fuck! Fuck! Daddy!!” You moaned simultaneously, your orgasm washing over you as you fell back into the bed.

Natasha groaned, barely holding herself up by her arms, just as exhausted as you.

The assassin slowly pulled out of you, kissing your forehead as you whimpered from the empty feeling in your pussy.

“C'mere beautiful,” She laid down next to you, sliding off her cum filled condom and throwing it in the trash before pulling you into her arms.

“…I love you, Natasha…” You muttered against her neck, burying yourself in her scent as your naked bodies intertwined.

Natasha smiled gently, running her hands through your messy hair, her fingers tangling in your locks.

“I love you too, Y/N,” She murmured into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo and using it as a lifeline and a reminder that this truly was real.

“Can we try this marriage for real this time?” You looked up at her, your hand falling to hers and tangling your fingers together.

“Of course we can…I've been waiting to ask you that for so long now…” She laughed softly, kissing you softly on the lips.

You kissed her back, sharing the first of many kisses of your marriage, but this time the marriage was finally real and not just for convenience.

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

[animasola86]

LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH7

You spend the night in the woods and find solace in Daddy's arms. Meanwhile, Mommy isn't too happy he disrupted her plans for the day...

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Dom/sub undertones. Pet names. Age gap. Size difference. Frottage/dry humping. Fluff. Angst. Fear of doctors. Medical exams. Date night with Mommy. (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 6.3k 🔷️READ ON AO3🔷️ 1–2–3–4–5–6–7

A/N: So, spoiler but: in this chapter, Reader (more info on her listed in the last chapter's A/N) gets a birth control implant. Now, I am not an expert on birth control, not even that particular kind, I am just an author with a bit of research on her hands. And I will not explain in detail how it works or why I chose it, it fit my story telling needs, and that's why. Please educate yourself if you want to learn more and do not take a word I'm writing here at face value. This is fiction, and in fiction anything goes, exactly how I, the author, want it to go. ❗ (Please READ THIS if you're confused about the tags I listed this under!) ❗

Chapter 6 🔷️ Chapter 7 🔷️ Chapter 8

The two of you spent the rest of the night huddled together on the hard floor, the food Daddy brought spread out in front of you. You were sitting between his legs, warm and cozy with your back to his chest (and his groin to your ass) as he leaned over you to reach for the thermos.

You were snuggled into the hoodie he had put into your backpack, while both of you were wrapped in the blanket. It was a picnic in the dark, with only the flashlight pointed at the nearest wall to give some light. He said his chef (it was still a somewhat otherworldly thing in your mind to have a personal chef) had prepared all kinds of finger foods, and while you expected chicken wings or fries or maybe nachos, it looked more like these fancy little snacks you'd only ever seen in movies (canapés or something? You weren't sure).

There was also a container full of cut fruit: apples and strawberries, pear and mango, and another full of cherries and all kinds of berries. You tasted something of each, quickly feeling full. Daddy was sitting behind you, sipping the tea he brought. Occasionally he'd feed you something, and you'd do the same, giggling happily when you watched the cherry slip between his lips. He'd kiss you after, sharing the taste.

You felt good, safe and protected, warm and happy. A strange feeling. In the quiet moments you wondered if it was real. Maybe you were still on that park bench, dreaming these things up. But then you'd feel Daddy's hands around your waist, rocking you gently against him as he nibbled on your neck, and you didn't care if it was real or not. It felt too nice to nitpick.

When the first yawn broke on your face, he scooped you up and carried you to the bed, wrapped the blanket around you like a cocoon and sat on the edge beside you, rubbing his large hand over your hip. You looked up at him, smiling tiredly, wanting to ask him to join you, but the words wouldn't come. And the bed was really small also...

He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth, lingering there a little as he watched you. “Sleep now, pumpkin,” he whispered, his breath ghosting your lips.

“What about you, Daddy?” you managed to croak out.

“I'll clean up our mess and will take the other bed, don't worry about me,” he replied, leaning back slowly.

“Let me help,” you mumbled, trying to get your arms out of the tightly wrapped blanket.

“No, it's fine,” he said, pushing you back down, his hand heavy on your shoulder. “It was a long day, you need your sleep, baby girl.”

You huffed a sigh, snuggling into the blanket, blinking up at him. “M'kay,” you pressed out under your breath, your lips pursing into a pout.

He gave a short chuckle and pressed his mouth to yours. “No pouting, pumpkin, go to sleep. Another long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

You inhaled deeply, stretching your neck to keep close to him, but he leaned back, causing you to slump down again. “What's tomorrow, Daddy?” you whispered, already fighting to keep your eyes open.

“Mommy has something planned for you, I don't want to spoil the surprise,” he said, his voice quieter as he stood up, his hand leaving your arm.

You gave an unintelligible noise before you sighed, your eyelids fluttering closed. “Okay...” you breathed.

“Good night, sweet girl,” you heard his voice from a little away.

“Good night, Daddy,” you mumbled back, inhaling deeply before sleep gripped you fully.

You woke up with a voiceless shriek, your eyes flying open, but there was nothing but darkness around you. Your heart was pounding in your chest, a cold breeze washing over your sweat-slick face. A whimper escaped you as you lay stock-still on the hard bed, the blanket wrapped around you in a suffocating manner. You couldn't remember what woke you, if it was a nightmare or dream or just the noises of the forest. Oh. Forest. Right.

The hoot of an owl brought you back to the little cabin in the woods, and as your heart slowed a little, you could hear the deep breaths, almost snores, from the other bed. Without thinking about it much, you scrambled out of yours and stumbled through the dark towards the comforting noises, ignoring the cold shudder crashing down your spine as you left the safety of your cot. The blanket was still around your shoulders, dragging after you, and when you extended a hand to feel where you were, your fingers brushed against something warm.

“Daddy?” you whispered barely audible, voice heavy with sleep, a hint of growing panic vibrating through you. The impenetrable dark around you was beginning to feel suffocating. He didn't stir, just kept breathing deeply. “Daddy...” Your hand was on his shoulder, moving up, blindly feeling around until your fingertips nudged against his beard, the scratching sound sending pleasant shivers over your skin, dispersing the cold that had settled there.

Biting your lip, your heart beating faster, you decided to climb into his bed. There was no space, he was already filling out the small frame, so you clambered on top of him, carefully putting your knees on either side of his hips (having to spread your legs quite far to fit him between your thighs) before you lay down slowly, resting your weight on his torso, one arm cradling his head, your cheek pressed to his shoulder.

A garbled snore escaped him, before his hand shot up, feeling around until it curled around your side. “Pumpkin?” he rasped, his voice so low it was a mere vibration through your body as you pressed your chest to his, trying to relax on top of him. “What's wrong?”

“Couldn't sleep,” you mumbled into him, your hand teasing his neck, producing more scratching noises as you rubbed your fingers into his beard.

He exhaled loudly, making your hair fly. His arms closed around your body as he shifted beneath you. “S'okay,” he muttered hoarsely, pulling you against him.

For a moment you just lay there, your eyes falling closed again, the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his body lulling you to sleep once more. Then his hands moved, rubbing from your shoulders down to your rear, and when his long fingers curled around your ass, you gave a little squeak, suddenly wide awake.

You leaned back on your elbows, looking down at him, trying to, but the room was too dark to see anything but more shadows. Your hands cupped his cheeks, the feel of his beard a calming thing under your palms. He kept kneading your rear, somehow the blanket had slipped off, adding a cold breeze to the shivers that traveled down your spine.

He breathed loudly against you. “You have no idea how hard it is to resist you, baby,” he growled, his voice just a rumble in the air, a thrum against your chest. “If you do things like this... all I want to do is grab you, turn you around, spread you open and sink my cock into your tiny cunt.” His low words, so lewd and tempting, but frightening too, made you gasp softly.

His hands tightened around your ass cheeks, pulling them apart, kneading, fingers slipping along the hem of your shorts. You were breathing harder, feeling a tense heat growing inside you, low in your core, a little throb, a clench, and then you were grinding your pelvis into him, against the bulk of him, hard and warm.

He gave a low grunt, pushing you against him, hands heavy and scorching, even through your clothes. “I can't do this, pumpkin,” he muttered. “Not yet. As much as I want to, as much as I need to... ugh,” he groaned, bucking his hips up against yours. “Little temptress,” he breathed, one of his hands moving up to grab the back of your head, pulling you down until your lips collided with his, his tongue quickly forcing into your mouth, a desperate gliding and rubbing and tasting.

He kept talking between kisses, his fingers tight around your nape, the other still groping your ass. “Soon...” he growled, kissing you harder with each word slipping past his warm lips. “Soon I'll fill you up, fill you up so good, all mine, you're mine, baby, mine to fill up, mine to open and use, your cunt will be molded to my cock and mine alone...”

You felt hot all over, his kisses and touches and words melting into a strange sensation floating through your body. You squirmed on top of him, grinding into him, your thighs trembling with how far they were spread over the bulk of his legs. Your fingers dug into his hair, holding on, kissing him back just as hungrily, your motions guided by pure instinct, by need, by unbridled lust. Nothing you'd ever felt before.

Your panting breaths mingled with his groans, the rubbing and grinding getting faster, more intense, his hand bruising your soft flesh. You wished there weren't so many layers of clothes in the way, it all felt too much, too warm, your clit throbbing under the constant friction of your underwear and shorts pressing into it. The hand on your neck was heavy, pressing you down, keeping you glued to his mouth, his tongue licking into yours as if he wanted to eat you alive (a thought that made your head spin). You tried your best to mirror the motion.

The tension in your stomach grew and grew, coiling so tight you were afraid it would break you from within. That heat gathering in your core, in your cunt, felt like liquid fire, burning through your nerves, setting everything aflame. Whimpers left your throat, your hands gripping his hair tighter, your hips rutting into him with desperate need now. His hands moved, gripped your waist, started pushing and pulling you over the bulge in his pants, a consistent pressure, burning friction, a deep shudder.

And then the lights came as you gasped into his mouth, a stifled little “Daddy!”, a swarm of fireflies dancing at the edge of your vision, your breath hitching in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You felt your orgasm crashing through you like a wave, the first rough impact made you stiffen, then turned into a gentle lapping as it glided through you, spreading from your core into your trembling limbs, until your toes curled and your fingertips tingled.

He held you as you shivered, erratic breaths fanning over his face, his own body hard beneath you. Still shaking, you buried your face in the crook of his neck, his hands rubbing over your back, gently smoothing down your jittery nerves. Your core was pulsing, throbbing, blood pumping just beneath your skin. A low thrum that slowly eased into a little buzzing, fizzling out like a sigh in the wind. A sticky warmth settling in your underwear.

“My good girl,” he cooed softly, his lips brushing against your ear, voice low and soothing. “You're alright, baby.”

You relaxed on top of him, practically melting into the hard shape of his body, a little boneless thing held by strong arms. Head empty, filled with cotton, no thoughts, except for a tiny nudge of something, of wanting to give back, of wondering how he felt, but you were too tired to voice it. He didn't seem to mind either way, only shifted slightly beneath you before you slipped into the warm embrace of unconsciousness.

This time you woke up to a rumble below you, a little bump that made you shift against a warm body. Grumbling under your breath, eyes too heavy to open, you snuggled into the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Your legs were angled, knees pressed into your chest, your head slightly lifted, resting on something warm and solid.

A hand rubbed along your arm, a soothing noise coming to your ears. “Go back to sleep, pumpkin,” you heard Daddy's quiet voice, but the low thrum of it surged through your body, giving you the energy you needed to open your eyes.

Squinting into the light, you found yourself curled up on the bench seat beside him, your cheek resting on his thigh, his hand on your arm. The truck rumbled beneath you, a constant drone that almost lulled you back to sleep, but you forced yourself to wake up fully. Slowly you turned onto your back, legs stretched out as far as possible (they remained angled at the knees, sock-clad feet pressing into the passenger door), before you looked up to the upside-down view of the tall man behind the steering wheel.

He gave you a gentle smile and a short gaze, then focused back on the road. “Good morning, Daddy,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“Morning, pumpkin, did you sleep well?”

“Like a stone, apparently,” you whispered, looking around. “Did you... did you carry me all the way back to the truck? You could have woken me, I could have walked...”

“You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to disturb your beauty sleep, baby,” he said with a slight smirk, his fingers digging into the blanket, teasing at your armpit. You scrunched your nose, squirming against the touch, feeling your lips twitch.

“Did you get some sleep too?” you asked carefully when he pulled his hand back, brushing it over your forehead before gripping the steering wheel. Last night came into your head, hazy and fuzzy, a buzz in the back of your head and deep in your core. Heat crashed into your face. “I... I didn't mean to –”

“It's okay, sweetheart. I slept really good, you make for a great weighted blanket, so soft and cute how you snored right into my ear,” he teased, his hand back to caress your hair. You turned your head and pressed your hands to your face, hiding the blooming warmth on your cheeks. He laughed softly. “Don't be ashamed. And don't stress about sneaking into my bed. You are welcome to do so, it makes me so happy to know that you're comfortable enough with me to do that.”

You spread your fingers and peeked through them as he talked, his words burning the doubts away again. His fingers brushed over your hair (you noticed he'd loosened the braids and smoothed it out again). He seemed to have had a whole morning while you were unconscious. You wished you could remember how he carried you, probably on his arms, through the waking forest, tugged you into his car, positioned your head on his thigh...

You turned onto your side again, shuffling closer until your chin rested on his leg, your eyes directly in line with the bulk of his cock behind the thick denim of his jeans. His hand moved over your forehead, tucking a few stray strands back, before his fingers dug into your hair, grabbing a bunch of it as he tugged lightly.

Your eyes moved up as you watched him from under your lashes, your cheeks still warm, your hands resting on the side of his thigh to steady yourself. “Are you okay, Daddy?” you whispered, watching his face, the creases in the corners of his eyes deepening as he smiled down at you.

“I'm fine, baby. Why do you ask?”

You licked your lips, that little urge in your stomach crawling up until it sat heavy in your throat, making your mouth both dry and saliva to pool on your tongue. You looked back at the bulge in front of you, your fingertips itching to touch it, feel how hard it really was. Wanting to give back.

“I just... uh... did you... did you come... last night? When I...” you stammered, swallowing thickly.

“It's fine, pumpkin,” he said, easing your stuttering. “Don't worry about me.”

“But –”

“No,” he shot down your attempt to voice the growing need. To feel, to taste... You blinked up at him, frowning slightly. “Sorry, baby girl, we don't have time. Mommy is already very angry with Daddy.”

“Oh,” you mouthed, biting your bottom lip as you sank back into the seat, away from his crotch. Exhaling loudly, you curled up against his side, pulling the blanket back over your body. “I'm sorry...”

“Don't be, it's my fault,” he said quietly, his hand back on your shoulder, warm and heavy, a comforting touch. “I should have planned this better. But it'll be fine. We'll be back in town in a bit, and then Mommy can have her day with you. Try to relax now, I don't know what she's up to after your appointment, but expect a lot more walking and shopping and whatever else girls do, hm?”

You frowned, feeling something cold and heavy in your stomach. Slowly you turned your head to look up at him. “What appointment, Daddy?”

“She's taking you to the doctor, baby girl,” he replied nonchalantly, while you stiffened. “Don't worry about that, just a check-up, some precautions and all that jazz. You were not on birth control, right, pumpkin?”

You looked away, swallowing. “No,” you mouthed, curling more into the blanket, not really wanting to face the reality of things. You hated going to the doctor's office, but in the back of your mind you knew it was important, a necessary step to assure your new life with these generous people. You still felt weird about it, and the implications of it all made you a little nervous.

His hand rubbed over your arm. “You'll get an implant, darling, Mommy's got one too, it's the best way, won't hurt much either. No need to be afraid. And once that's settled,” he added quietly, his hand slipping down your front, giving your chest a gentle squeeze, “well, I can't wait to get real close to you...”

The innuendo wasn't lost on you (your cunt giving a little clench), but you focused more on his other words. It felt as if you didn't have much of a choice in the matter, they had already planned out your life, and while it was comforting on one side, it made you feel a little useless and trapped on the other.

Then again, you did sort of trust them, Mommy and Daddy, somehow you knew they only wanted the best for you, and if that one little inconvenience (that felt like a big stone in your guts though) would ensure that you could stay with them, hug them, kiss them, feel Mommy's fingers and Daddy's cock, then it had to be done.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you exhaled loudly, grabbing Daddy's hand and cradling it to your chest. “Okay,” you muttered, snuggling into his side.

“It'll be fine, baby,” he said, squeezing your hands. “Mommy will be with you, she'll take care of you today.”

“What will you do?” you asked after a moment of rumbling silence, the tires droning over the road beneath you.

“I have to go to work, pumpkin,” he replied with a sigh. “But I'll be back tonight. We'll have dinner together and watch another movie, okay?”

“Okay,” you said again, closing your eyes as you let the noises of the car and his warmth lull you back to sleep.

“You're late.”

“You already said that...”

“Seriously, you gotta work on your time management. And maybe next time you could have the decency of telling me if you plan to spend the night somewhere else? I was worried sick!”

“I didn't think you'd care.”

“Of course I care! What is that supposed to mean? She is mine too, you know? Our little girl, Noah! Our! We take care of her, we, both of us! Get that into your thick skull!”

The voices were muffled, slipping in and out as you slowly regained consciousness. Inhaling deeply, you rolled onto your back, blinking your eyes open. You were in your bed, in your room, alone, a sudden cold crashing over you.

Listening to Mommy and Daddy's heated voices reminded you of your childhood, spent under the covers with your hands on your ears, trying to drown it all out. The constant fights, the screams and shouts, everything ultimately leading to your father leaving and your mother bringing in new men every now and then, before it all happened again, and again...

Your door opened, making you flinch and gasp. Mommy came in, confident steps before she slumped down on the edge of the bed, her hands grabbing yours. “Hello sweet pea, are you alright?” she whispered, cradling your hand, giving you a soft smile. Her cheeks were slightly flushed.

“I'm fine,” you replied, sitting up slowly, watching her. “Please don't be mad at Daddy,” you then said, furrowing your brows as you looked into her pretty face.

“I... Did you hear us? Oh baby girl, I am so sorry,” she cooed, scooting closer before she pulled you against her chest, her arms tight around your shoulders. “I was just worried. This is all new to us, too, you know? Daddy has to understand that he can't just whisk you away without telling me.”

You leaned against her, breathing deep, her soft scent, warm and somewhat flowery, filling your nostrils, calming you. “It's my fault,” you mouthed into the soft slopes of her breasts, the low neckline of her dress allowing for your cheek to press directly to her skin. “I... I distracted Daddy...”

Mommy laughed softly. “I bet you did, but that's not your fault. It's his for not being able to control himself.”

“I don't want you to fight...”

“Oh honey, don't worry your pretty little head. We do that sometimes, but it's nothing bad. It's natural and necessary to talk about things, even if we don't always see eye to eye. I still love and respect your Daddy, but he does need a little kick from time to time, you know? And I'd do it more, but he's kind of into it...” she added with a chuckle.

You still felt a little bad for disrupting their plans and making them argue, but the longer you snuggled against Mommy's warm body, the quieter those doubts got. At least until she suddenly grabbed your arms and leaned you back, looking at you.

“Alright, so, I did plan for our day to be a little less stressful, but it is what it is now. We gotta get you ready and then we have to go.” She stood then, grabbing your hand to pull you up.

It was a blur how she nudged you into the bathroom and made you brush your teeth. While you did, she untangled your hair and braided it into a thick side braid that she fastened with a little pink bow. You blinked, and suddenly you stood in front of your closet, your reflection showing you that you had stripped (or were stripped?), before Mommy pulled a pink sundress over your head. She crouched beside you and helped you into a pair of white lace panties, then pulled frilly ankle socks onto your feet and made you step into a pair of pink ballerina flats.

She was gentle, though anything but calm, time (or lack thereof) probably making her a little hectic. You didn't protest, just let her do her thing, feeling more and more like a little lifeless doll. Somehow that was a comfort, not having to think what to wear, what to do, but it also unnerved you a little. When you were dressed, she turned you around and smiled, then grabbed your flushed face and brought her mouth to yours.

Her kiss was sweet, tasted like the glossy stuff on her lips (peach maybe?), her tongue giving yours a gentle massage you tried to meet in equal. It was only a short delight, before she grabbed your hand and pulled you after her. Down the stairs, a fleeting look through the house, realizing Daddy was already gone, then through the front door and onto the yard, a car waited there and she motioned you onto the backseat before slipping in beside you.

A few more hectic heartbeats later, the car stopped again and she helped you out. You were shaking then, noticing the sign on the building. She held your hand and you just followed, trying to breathe easy, telling yourself it'd be alright. At first you felt invisible next to her, a mere child pulled along by a parent, when she talked to the lady at the reception, when she did small talk with other people waiting there as well, but then it was your name echoing through the room, your name being called, and you slipped back into the focus with a clenching feeling in your guts.

But Mommy stayed with you, led you into another room, told you to sit down on one of those reclined chairs. The air was tight, it smelled so sterile and clean, and you hated it. She must have noticed your erratic breathing, how clammy your hand was, and she stepped to your chair and cupped your face, rubbing your cheeks, smiling down at you softly.

“It'll be alright, cariño,” she cooed. “Be a good girl, okay? No need to be afraid. It's just a check-up, some questions, a few tests, and then a tiny poke into your arm. But you're a big girl, you can handle this, can't you?”

You wanted to sink into the floor, vanish from her warm gaze. You didn't feel like a big girl, you felt helpless and small and pathetic, and you were ashamed that at your age you were still afraid of doctors and needles and examinations. You felt horrible, your stomach so tense it hurt, your throat tight, mouth dry, lips wobbling uncontrollably, tears burning in your eyes. And one thought came back over and over again.

I want my Daddy.

It was silly, he couldn't help you through this any better than Mommy did, but maybe he could have talked you out of your fear, held you tighter, his low voice thrumming through you, calming you. Mommy did her best, but she was not Daddy, wasn't as tall and broad, as strong, there was no soothing scratch of a beard or the steady heartbeat in a warm chest, coarse hair tickling against your cheek.

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, thinking back to your time with him, thinking ahead to later, after, when you'd see him again. You realized then that it wasn't fair. Mommy was here now, holding your face, trying to calm you. And you remembered her words (“our girl... we take care of her, both of us...”), knowing she was right. You agreed to live with both of them, Mommy and Daddy, and you shouldn't choose one over the other. They both let you into their lives, made you a part of their routines, they both took time out of their busy schedules to be with you, help you, make it better.

And being here, getting a check-up, was a step into that better future, you knew it, you didn't like it, but you accepted it.

Exhaling loudly, you nodded into Mommy's hands. Opening your eyes, you attempted a weak smile, and hers widened before she leaned in to give you a quick kiss. She stepped away when the doctor entered the room, but kept a hold of your hand. You barely remembered his questions or your answers or what Mommy said to fill in the blanks. You couldn't concentrate on the explanations of whatever procedure you were supposed to be getting either. Your mind was reeling, in a bad way, but you forced yourself to stay strong, to not cry, and it took all of you not to flinch or wince when you felt cold gloved fingers between your legs.

You tried to shut it all out, go back in your mind to the better moments, Mommy's kisses, Daddy's touches, her soft laugh, his low voice praising you, pumpkin, baby girl, words like caresses, Mommy's fingers in your cunt (a different set of fingers parting your labia), the rise and roll of your orgasm as you dry humped Daddy this morning, how your clit had throbbed against your panties (how it was prodded at now, the hood lifted, a clinical gesture), your insides feeling as if frozen in place, forced to remain neutral (this isn't sexual, not sexual, a normal thing, an examination, nothing more).

Your head was spinning, your hand tensing around Mommy's, your eyes glued to the ceiling, not acknowledging what was happening below. Didn't matter, it'd be over soon, very soon (soon... he'd said... soon he'll fill you up... your cunt that belongs to him... for Daddy's cock to mold into his shape... soon).

And then it was over. You blinked in confusion when a nurse wiped something over your upper arm, then put a band-aid on a spot on your skin that felt tense and as if on fire, a warm feeling soothing through you.

Mommy was on your other side, rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand, smiling softly. Her other hand reached out and wiped under your eye. “My good girl,” she whispered. “You've been so brave. Barely cried. I'm proud of you.”

At first her words stoked your embarrassment, flared up the unease that had settled low in your guts (you already felt like a stupid child, she didn't have to talk to you like you were one too), but the longer she looked at you with her warm eyes, the calmer you felt. You blinked, licking your dry lips, taking a shuddering breath, focusing back on her. Maybe you were a child (no matter your age), but you were also hers, her little girl, she was taking care of you, and that was all that mattered.

Later you sat opposite her in a cute little restaurant tucked into a charming side street, soft piano music was playing in the background, the lights were dim and cozy, paintings of old architecture lined the walls, chatter was hushed. The waiter brought bread sticks and a menu you couldn't read, so you had Mommy choose something for you.

It felt nice, almost like a date. The wine arrived, and you were allowed one glass too, and when she raised hers, you grabbed yours and gently clinked it, smiling at her. “To new beginnings,” she said quietly before bringing the glass to her full lips and taking a sip, watching you over the rim.

You gave her a shy nod, taking a sip yourself, feeling the rich flavor glide over your tongue and down your throat, a fruity taste ending with a buzz. You liked it.

“Don't tell Daddy,” she mused with a chuckle. “He was quite impressed that you said you didn't drink, a kid your age no less. Now, I don't want to be the one to seduce you after all, but this is a special occasion, wouldn't you say?” She took another sip. “By the way, is there a reason you don't drink? Usually?”

You put the glass down, looking at it for a moment. “Well, I... I saw what too much alcohol could do to a person...” you replied quietly, unable to look into her eyes.

Her hand reached out to you, her fingers curling gently around yours. “Oh honey, I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, looking around the room. “No, it's fine. It doesn't matter anymore.”

“Hmm,” Mommy hummed, squeezing your hand. “If you change your mind, I'm here for you, always, okay?”

You looked up at her, meeting her warm gaze. “Thank you,” you whispered.

The food came then, pasta you couldn't pronounce, but liked all the same, nothing you'd ever eaten before. Mommy tried holding the conversation with simple topics like food or travel or exotic countries you might like to see one day. The more she talked, the smaller and poorer you felt. You had your dreams of seeing the world one day, but deep down you knew you would never be able to afford it. She, however, seemed to have seen it all already.

Though you felt a little jealous at first, you soon realized that this kind of lifestyle was open to you now. And while you imagined traveling the world with Mommy and Daddy, you opened up more and more, the fears and doubts of earlier falling off you bit by bit. By the time you'd finished your dessert (the most delicious tiramisu you'd ever seen and eaten), you were fantasizing about sitting in a gondola with Mommy, her arm around your shoulders, listening to some Italian dude singing as he steered you over the Canal Grande.

Mommy either kept holding your hand or bumping her knee into yours under the table, her other hand rubbing up your leg occasionally. It felt nice, she was so attentive when you did manage to say a few more sentences, smiling softly, her dark eyes wandering over your face. In a way it really felt like a date.

After a while, she was sipping on her third glass of wine, you gathered the courage to speak up again. “Can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head. “Of course.”

“I... uh, I told Da– uh, well, I'm... I'm not too comfortable... yet... to call you and him... uh, the names I'm supposed to call you... you know? In public? So I asked him for his name, and he said I could call him that when we were around people, and I was wondering... if –”

“Isabella,” she said with a smirk and her beautiful accent. “And yes, you can call me that in public. But when we're alone, I'd prefer... the other name,” she added, winking at you.

“Of course, Mo– Isabella,” you replied with a timid smile. She squeezed your knee under the table. “That's a really pretty name...”

“Thank you,” she laughed. “I think your Daddy, Noah, may see that differently. He only uses it when I screwed up somehow.”

“Oh,” you mouthed, blinking at her.

“But don't mind that, we do have a special relationship as you may have gathered by now. I do like it when he calls me by my name, with that deep voice of his. It really turns me on...”

Her confession made you blush, and you looked away, inhaling deeply. “M-me too, his... his voice, I mean,” you then mumbled, earning you another laugh and squeeze of the leg.

“Yeah? Well, I'm glad we share the same taste in men then,” Mommy said with a smirk in her voice. “Honestly, cariño, no need to be embarrassed about it. This is an open relationship, a love triangle if you will. We are sharing him, as well as he is sharing me, and I am sharing you, and however else you want to see it. And there's nothing weird about it. You are our little girl, you chose to be with us and we welcomed you into our midst. Say, after these few days, how do you feel about it? Do you still want to be our girl?” she asked, nudging your knee to make you look at her.

You nodded as soon as you met her gaze, almost a little too desperate for your taste, but it was true. You couldn't imagine being anywhere else at the moment. “I do,” you said quietly. “I really like it, being with you and Da– Noah, you've been both so kind to me, so patient and welcoming. I... I've never felt this safe before...”

Her features softened as she watched you, her dark eyes so warm and caring. Your own started watering the longer you watched her, recounting your experiences.

“I am really grateful,” you choked out, your eyelashes fluttering as you fought the tears trying to spill from them. “Really, thank you... so much, I... I have no idea how I will ever repay you for your generosity...”

She gave a soft chuckle, leaning over the table to grab your hand and cradle it between hers. “Oh sweetie, do not worry your pretty head about that. You will, very soon. You already made me so happy, and Daddy too, and I'm sure you will be just as perfect in the future. I honestly can't wait...”

She didn't say it, barely grazed the topic, but you felt it in your core, the implication. Daddy hadn't been as subtle about it, and you knew what was expected of you once you settled in more. Somehow the idea both scared and aroused you, and you wondered whether you could live up to those expectations in the first place. The last thing you wanted was to disappoint them, Mommy especially.

Apparently your worries were plastered all over your face, because suddenly she was there, had rounded the table, and crouched down beside you, cupping your face, resting her forehead against yours.

“It'll be fine, mi amor, do not stress,” she whispered. “All you have to do is submit to us, we will guide you through it all. You just let it happen. Do you want to let it happen? Do you trust us?”

You swallowed, biting your lip. “Yes,” you breathed. “I do, both, I trust you, I want this...”

“Good girl,” she cooed.

Her eyes bored into yours and the restaurant around you faded. All you saw was her, and when she tilted her head and brushed her lips against yours, she was all you felt. Warm, soft, the subtle taste of peach flavored lip gloss and red wine, and you soaked it up like a sponge, meeting the delicate swipes of her tongue, tasting her, feeling her...

She was gone before you could really register it, sitting back on her chair, licking her lips as she smiled at you. Your cheeks were aflame, but you didn't care who saw them. You were focused on Mommy, the beautiful woman who could honestly convince you to do anything with just a kiss.

What a dangerous gift.

Chapter 6 🔷️ Chapter 7 🔷️ Chapter 8

End notes: You may argue that some of the things that Mommy and Daddy do to pumpkin are dubcon, as they just “force” them onto her without asking first. Yes, maybe that's the case, but remember this is fiction and Pumpkin is too mentally unstable to decide on her own at the moment. It's for her own good, they really only want the best for her! There is no bad intent, even if it feels like dubcon.

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: Mommy takes you to a special shop...

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

[omjitskailay]

We need to appreciate that they did not make Peggy Carter a sexless, uptight, stick-up-her-ass British stereotype but instead gave her sexual tension with every character in the series

[noonecares915]

What did Chappell Roan say about serving exactly what you are?

[hurtspideyparker]

Tony and Natasha's friendship as the gay & lesbian duo I need.

When they meet in IM2 Nat is flirting with Tony for her job and Tony has to pretend to be into it as a cover.

And then later they realize they were both faking it and are like "oh thank god" so now there isn't anything weird between them and they can just bully each other. Queer solidarity 💪. Tony sets Natasha up with Pepper because the only flirting Nat can do is the kind that doesn't matter (aka with men)

Tony: I think I like Steve...

Natasha: Oh he's a pretty good kisser, I approve

Tony: EX-FUCKING-SCUSE ME?

Natasha: Don't worry he didn't even grab my ass so he's either a virgin or gay

Tony: You're lucky I'm into both, slut

Natasha: Love you too 😻

[youronebraincell]

[starkenobi]

Welcome, earthlings!

Contents you'll find here: marvel, star wars, x-files, doctor who, twin peaks, fabulous actresses, iwtv amc, halsey, pedro pascal, oscar isaac, tvshows, films, some korean dramas and singers.

this is a lgbtqia+ safe space!

I'm currently writing for marvel characters. The majority of the stories have a female reader as a romantic lead and individual warnings.

my inbox is open for: fics and writing asks, gossip about tvshows and films, ramble about everything and anything!

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

my tags if you wish to filter something out: starkenobi writing; starkenobi recs; starkenobi asks; starkenobi reblogs; starkenobi ramblings.

english isn’t my first language, and i don't mind if you call me inbox or dm to point out errors or typos. but please be kind!

starkenobi comes from the names tony stark + obiwan kenobi, two of my top 10 favorite characters!

starting this blog from scratch, so your support means a lot! 💜

⋮ MASTERLIST!

✍️ mostly bucky barnes, natasha romanoff, and tony stark. there's a miscellaneous characters list too: matt murdock, wanda maximoff, and steve rogers.

Demonic Domination Masterlist

on going

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reder; Bucky Barnes x Reader; Matt Murdock x Reader.

Sumary: Y/N doesn’t classify herself as a vigilante or, as people on the internet say, an antihero. No, she’s just an occult detective with a fucking amnesia trying to create a new life beyond her secret mutant status. At first, she really tried to keep a normal civilian life, but it’s difficult when you’re rescued from a dark place by a man dressed as a mummy ninja calling himself Moon Knight. So, anyway, working as an occult detective makes her travel around the world, and it’s cool because it gives her a lot of stories… Until her feet touch New York grounds. It’s all downhill from there.

Warnings: +18 romance; angst; fluff; smut; violence; torture; gore; not following 100% mcu events; bisexuality; pseudo harem; feelings.

✸ Bucky Barnes

ᯓ Christmas Elves | Bucky Barnes x reader | mcu; fluff; drabble.

ᯓ Courage Drink | Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader | mcu; fluff, drabble.

ᯓ Handsome | Bucky Barnes x avemger!reader | mcu; fluff; established relationship; drabble

ᯓ Stupidly in Love | Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader | mcu; idiots to lovers; misunderstanding; romcom; fluff.

ᯓ The White Wolf | Bucky Barnes x reader | fantasy au; romance; soulmates; werewolf!bucky; pirate!reader; prince!bucky; stark!reader.

✸ Natasha Romanoff

ᯓ Friday Night | Natasha Romanoff x mutant!reader | fluff; strangers to lovers; mutant harassment; drabble.

ᯓ KAZINO | ao3 | Natasha Romanoff x reader | +18 romance; mafia; strangers to lovers; angst with happy ending. [tumblr post]

ᯓ Sleepover | Natasha Romanoff x avenger!reader | unrequited love, angst with no happy ending.

ᯓ Truth or Dare | Natasha Romanoff x avenger!reader | mcu; +18 romance; a bit of smut and a bit of fluff.

ᯓ With Love | Natasha Romanoff x avenger!reader | mcu; fluff; acquaintances to lovers; flirty.

— Coming soon

ᯓ More Than a Friend | Natasha Romanoff x avenger!reader | mcu; fluff; miscommunication; romcom.

✸ Tony Stark

ᯓ Dracarys! | Tony Stark x avenger!reader | mcu; fluff; established relationship; drabble.

ᯓ Draw me like one of your french girls | Tony Stark x avenger!reader | mcu; established relationship; fluff; flirty.

ᯓ Lovesick | Tony Stark x reader | apocalypse au; romance; angst with no happy ending; description of disease and death.

ᯓ Menace | Tony Stark x avenger!reader | mcu; +18 romance; established relationship; explicit content.

✸ Other Characters

ᯓ Damn it | Steve Rogers x avenger!reader | missing the flirting when it's gone; angstish; new member!reader; drabble.

ᯓ JamaisVu | Matt Murdock x reader | soulmates; hanahaki; angst no happy ending.

— Coming soon

ᯓ Bring Me to Life | Wanda Maximoff x reader | fantasy; romance; soulmates; princess!reader.

[cactus-cuddler]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝑺𝒑𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // first part

Natasha Romanoff

x female reader

Word count: 2,1k

Plot: you and Natasha are two spies who have worked together for many years. During these years, a particular chemistry has arisen between you that will make something emerge that you couldn't have foreseen

Genre: Romantic Erotica

Warnings: this story contains descriptions of sexual activity

Author's Notes: English is not my first first language so I apologize for any errors! Let me know what you think!

You and Natasha are the most famous spy couple in the world. There isn't a mission you haven't completed, and your lives revolve around espionage. You don't consider yourselves friends, and you don't think you ever will be; you only refer to each other as 'colleagues'. Nothing more and nothing less, but between you, outside of your work, there is a strange and deadly chemistry.

In the facility where you work, each of you has an apartment with everything that is yours. There are no rigid timetables to follow; you have total freedom of movement. From the outside, the building that houses you looks like a very normal condominium, and it is. Most of the people who live there are spies, but there are also ordinary people and children. No one is allowed to know the identity of others except within couples, so you don't know who is a spy and who is not inside the building.

Your apartment is furnished according to how you always dreamed your home would be when you moved out on your own. It has a bedroom, a guest bedroom, and a connected kitchen and living room; however, they are separated by a curtain. You have a cat sleeping on the armchair, occupying the place where you usually like to read and watch movies, so you are forced to sit on the soft sofa that you typically reserve for your guests.

It's a beautiful day outside. You notice as you adjust the curtains on the window that you live on the top floor, so you enjoy a spectacular view of your town. The doorbell rings unexpectedly, and you're alarmed since you're not expecting any visitors. It could be anyone! You shout, 'I'm coming!' and then put on a cardigan with pockets hiding weapons, just in case it's an attack—unlikely, but never say never. You open the door carefully, and there stands a redhead with a friendly smile on the threshold. You stare at her for a few moments. She's wearing a simple T-shirt that says 'I 🌵 cactus' and gray sweatpants. You don't even understand the effect she has on you. Every time she looks at you outside of a mission, you become like a broken record that only makes one sound: the 'tumtum' of your heart. She has never been in your apartment in all the years you've been working together, which is why you're very surprised.

"Haven't they taught you how to welcome guests?" she asks you sarcastically, and you snap out of your trance. She sits inside your apartment and looks around as if lost. "You have good taste," she compliments, and you smile shyly.

"How can I help you?" you ask her but she’s lost in petting your cat. You clear your throat as you cross your arms to remind her that you're there.

"I just wanted to see you," she says, looking at you with her penetrating gaze. You didn't expect such an answer, and you were absolutely not ready to receive it because your heart starts beating hastily, leaving you breathless. "What a beautiful cat! What's his name?" she asks you, but it doesn't have one yet. You found him yesterday, cold and hungry, and you couldn't leave him there!

“He doesn't have one yet" you reply, trying not to tremble.

“What do you think of Dymka? It’s a Russian name” you like it so you nod in approval. You ask her if there is something she wants to eat and she asks you for a beer but you don't have it in your fridge. You have only water, tea and fruit juice.

"Your fridge looks like a baby’s" teases you with a sarcastic voice. Pretend nothing and serve her a glass of orange juice and pour one for yourself while Dymka sits on Natasha’s legs.

"I have a favor to ask you. I have a problem with the water pipes, and I remember that," she starts talking, and before finishing the sentence, she lowers her voice, "during an old mission we had the same problem and you were able to solve it," she concludes. For a second there, you really thought she was just there to see you, and you feel stupid.

"Of course!" you answer, hiding your disappointment. After finishing your drink, you go to her apartment. She lives downstairs, in apartment 52. Her house is rather messy; she has dirty clothes around, including bras, beer bottles, and empty canned food.

She apologizes for the mess, but it doesn’t bother you; on the contrary, you are pleased that she also lives alone and has no traces of any partners. She takes you to the kitchen, which, unlike the living room, is clean and immaculate. You open the door under the sink and, once you understand the reason for the leak, you get to work, asking Natasha to help you by passing the necessary tools.

"Where did you learn?" she asks curiously. You smile softly, and while you wash your hands, you tell her that when you were little, your father forced you every time to keep the light on while he had to solve small problems. Every time you watched him, you learned how to fix things without having to call a plumber or an electrician.

She invites you to eat with her that night, she feels indebted to you so she decides to offer you a pizza. You take it easy.

You're sitting at the kitchen table. She refuses to let you stay in a dirty place like her living room, so you're sitting next to each other on the table. There's a particular tension in the air between you. It's not discomfort, but something that makes your heart beat timidly and makes it seem like there's nothing else around you. She looks at her phone silently, and you try to find topics to talk about, but she interrupts you, "I saw a movie start like that," she says with a seductive voice. You blush and wait for her to continue, hoping she doesn’t mean what you understand.

"How?" you ask.

"With one person fixing something for someone, the other one doesn’t know how to pay and so..." She starts talking and leaves the phrase hanging, stroking your thigh from under the table. "Do you think I haven’t noticed how you look at me?" she asks you and inside you begin to feel an unusual warmth.

"How do I look at you?" you ask with a tremble in your voice, while her grip on your thigh gets stronger and stronger.

"Every time you look at me, your eyes always tell me 'fuck me,' and you don’t know how hard it is for me every time to hold back," she whispers in your ear. Your body is literally on fire. Between your legs, you feel something pulsating, something that begs to be stimulated. You swallow, feeling petrified. You don’t know what to do, how to react, or what is going to happen. Your mind is a mix of emotions and feelings that you haven’t experienced in a while, and you didn’t think it could be caused by a woman. But the woman next to you is not just any woman. She is Natasha Romanoff, the one who can render you speechless with just one look.

"Am I wrong?" she asks you, moving a lock of your hair behind your ear. You say no with your head. You know it’s something you want even though there’s something in your head that tells you you’d regret it and that’s wrong.

"Tell me you want it," she says, curling a lock of your hair to her finger.

"I want," you say in a gentle whisper, normally a phrase like that would have embarrassed you, but right now you feel imposing in front of her.

"What do you want?" she continues teasing you, moving her hand from thigh to more internally.

"I want you to fuck me" you whispers and she takes your chin and kisses you passionately. You eat each other’s lips and it seems to come from a primal feeling that was secretly hiding inside you. During the kiss she lifts you up and makes you sit on the table without taking her lips off of yours. She explores your body by pressing her hands on your buttocks in a possessive way. As if she were afraid that someone might catch you and take you away from her. She begins to undress you carefully and admire your body like a painting. She likes every inch of your body. She eagerly inhales the scent of your skin and kisses every inch of it.

"You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen," she says before kissing you again. An avid, passionate kiss that screams "again".

You’re in your underwear, it’s uncoordinated, which is why you’re embarrassed. But it’s not your fault, how could you have imagined that this would happen? She caresses your breasts from under the bra teasing your nipples that become turgid to her touch then she loses it and looks at you enchanted by your body. With both hands she touches your breasts, squeezes them in her palm. Then, as she continues to massage one, she takes the other’s nipple in her mouth. First sucking it and then biting it between your teeth, paying attention to give you just pleasure. In the meantime, small sighs of pleasure emerge from your lips. Your mind is clouded by the sweet but tantalizing scent of the woman beneath you and you can’t process any thoughts other than what you’re feeling. Between your legs you feel an unbearable and heartbreaking sensation. You want that she touches you there, you want she looks at you there, and you want she fills you with her fingers. You would never be able to compose such a perverse sentence so you start slowly massaging yourself from the fabric of your briefs while she continues her perverse play with your breasts.

She starts undressing too with your help between stolen kisses. Her body in your eyes is just perfect and her curves make you crazy. You are afraid to touch her because you fear to hurt her, you see her as a crystal vase: beautiful but equally delicate. While you are still sitting on top of the table she ducks and with her teeth tries to remove the only garment you have left, inhaling your smell and admiring how wet you are just for her.

"Is this for me?" she asks and you nod shyly. She take off your panties and gently caress you, giving you a little taste of what you’re about to do. She take out her tongue and look straight at your eyes and then you feel a warm and pleasant feeling in your intimacy. She leaves you a kiss on your clit before she starts sucking and from your lips you start to make small moans. You put your hands on her head pushing it more towards you and when she finds the rhythm that makes you crazy, you caress her hair and your moans become stronger. It leaves you dissatisfied and gets up to take possession of your lips and you feel the taste of her mouth mixed with that of your liquids, it's a taste that turns you on even more. Meanwhile Natasha with her fingers looking for your sweet opening that penetrates first with one finger and then with two.

"Nat, you’re driving me crazy," you say between groans and the other, and you move your pelvis over her fingers until you come on them. Natasha licks her fingers satisfied for her work while you continue to sigh for the pleasure you have felt.

You move into her bedroom, you don’t notice how it is furnished because you wouldn’t even have time to admire it. She puts you on top of the bed and puts herself on top of you with the knee placed in the middle of your legs to be able to tease you again in the middle and you kiss again. Then she turns by placing her buttocks on your face to put herself again where she caused the fireworks inside you and starts to penetrate you again with just one finger going deep causing you a pleasant feeling while you focus on her and her own pleasure.

You are interrupted by the doorbell and quickly disconnect as if you were at a crime scene and she lends you a t-shirt of her pajamas while she puts on the first things she finds to open the door. She return to the room with a face with an expression of disappointment and surprise and announces: "we have a new mission".

Thanks for reading!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝑺𝒑𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 // Second part

[nocek]

It only took about 1,5 month but colors are done!

But in my defense in that 1,5 month I managed to change jobs which was stressful af and then catch a nasty cold on my second day at new job which was annoying af with it's perfect timing :D

anyway here is clear lineart version and here is previous picture in the series (of two pictures lol) with the sketch for this one

[nnaviee]

Hey Navie! (idk if its weird to use your name lol) I was wondering if you'd do a Natasha Romanoff x Fem reader? Maybe about a prank? I love pranks that have angst and then end in fluff so so much. I also love reading different writers' takes on a prank. If you don't like it that's totally fine. Love ya!! :3

seemingly harmless-natasha romanoff x fem!reader

“Любовь моя” = my love

warnings: guns, swearing, i think that’s it?

words: 3k

———————————————————————————

you slowly turned your key in the lock, opening the door to her apartment. you entered cautiously as you took in your surroundings. dark, and quiet. you had just come back from a mission, a long one. you were excited to see your girlfriend, but also felt like a prank was in order.

you slowly crept down the hallway and slowly opened her bedroom door, taking a moment to admire her peaceful, sleeping form. nobody ever really saw such a vulnerable side of her, yet you were one of the few select people who were given the privilege.

you’d seen a lot together, and you’d seen every side of each other. you made your way around the bed, pulling the sharpie you brought out of your pocket as you leaned next to the bed. you carefully lifted her arm, you had barely begun to write your name on her skin before you felt her jolt awake.

the next thing you knew, you were pressed against the wall, natasha standing behind you with a gun to your head. you knew she kept one near the bed, but this was not the outcome you expected from this seemingly harmless joke.

“nat! nat, please. it’s me.” you cried out without thinking, squeezing your eyes shut as they filled with unshed tears. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” you felt her grip on your arm loosen slightly as she slowly came back to reality.

she let go of your arm, turning you around to look at your face. “jesus fucking christ! where did you- when did you get home?” she was out of breath, the incident making her chest rise and fall rapidly as she processed what happened in her half-awake moment of adrenaline.

“about an hour or so ago…i think.” you were equally out of breath, your wide eyes flitting down to the weapon she still held in her white-knucked grip. she followed your gaze, looking down and quickly scrambling to put it away.

“god, i’m so sorry. i thought you…” she trailed off, lightly holding your fingers as she looked down between you. “i’m sorry.” she whispered it, barely audible. you reluctantly squeezed her fingers back, leaning your head down slightly to look at her.

“i’m sorry, too. i shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that. are you…you know, okay?” you reached a hand up to tuck a hair behind her ear as she slowly lifted her head to look at you. “i’m not the one who just had a gun to my head.” she choked out the words. “love, are you okay?” she brought a hand up and cupped your cheek, lightly tracing her thumb back and forth.

you inhaled and exhaled slowly, shaking slightly. “yeah. i’m alright. i’m tired, though.” you held her hand as your other hand rested on her shoulder. she looked at you, her eyes showing every ounce of guilt and disbelief she felt.

“let’s go to bed. the gun is safely put away, i promise.” she said slowly as she walked backwards, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling you to sit next to her. you both sat on the edge of the bed, your hands interlocked. you leaned your head on her shoulder. “i’m sorry i scared you, nat.”

she brought a hand up, running it through your hair. ���i would never intentionally hurt you. you know that, right?” you wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her close to you as you buried your head in the crook of her neck.

“i know.” you whispered as both laid down, finding solace in each other’s arms as you settled beneath the covers. you rested your head on her chest and she continued to play with your hair. your breathing began to sync with hers as the two of you lay in comfortable silence. “i love you so much, Любовь моя.” she whispered into the quiet room.

“i love you more.” you responded as you closed your eyes and settled in closer to her, both of you drifting off to sleep.

———————————————————————————

A/N: ty so much for reading and suggesting!!! i hope yall enjoyed this. like i said, i’m pretty out of practice when it comes to writing things other than plays or poems, so this might be lowkey terrible lmao. also i’ll usually be writing in lowercase bc i’m too lazy to turn my autocaps on.

<3, navie.

[ilovesnat]

scarlett in a bisexual-colored dress guys (she supports me)

[natsgrave]

YOU FORGOT YOUR CLOTHES | scarlett johansson

i'm so chill, but you make me jealous, but i got your heart skippin'. you know i'm not a bad girl but i do bad things with you. Professor!Scarlett x Student!Reader, legal age gap. ( v short one. ) i do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other sites. plagiarism is a crime! masterlist whispers of heartache m.list

Y/N'S POV

Me and Scarlett are secretly in a arrange marriage and we managed to keep it hidden from everyone.

It was no surprise that she felt nothing towards me but the cold treatment still hurts me sometimes, because this is not what I dreamt of and expect when I entered the married life.

You might say that I'm stupid but I fell in love with her already, it sucks but what can I do? Being married to her and living under the same roof for over 2 years, it's not impossible anymore.

To my surprise, I woke up first before her. Normally, when I open my eyes, she's already out of bed but not this time.

We might be in a arrange marriage and we— she maybe don't feel any love for me, but we still agreed to sleep on the same bed just like what married couples do.

I carefully climb out of bed and do my routine before heading downstairs and make breakfast.

Halfway through my cooking, I heard her footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Goodmorning, Y/N." She greeted with her morning raspy voice. "Goodmorning." I replied.

"How come you're awake already?" Scarlett asked. "This is what time I usually woke up, you're just really much of an early bird." I said putting the last pancake on the plate before putting it on the table.

"Hmm, you can cook." She said, stating the obvious.

"I do."

We start eating in silence, it wasn't uncomfortable anymore since it was everyday.

We eventually finish eating without much talking and just minding our own business. She took a shower in our room while I use the shower in our guest room. Once I'm done, I change into appropriate clothing, and head downstairs with my things I need.

"I'll see you at school." Scarlett said once she saw me walking down. "Sure." I shortly replied as she walked out of the door.

I made myself a food for lunch and made sure to check my things before leaving the house making sure to lock the door and walked towards the cab. ___

The drive wasn't really that long and before I even notice, the car stopped in front of my school.

I gave the driver my payment before exiting the car and walking directly to my classroom.

When I entered the room, frown instantly forms in my face and my bloods starting to boil.

I saw her flirting with one of the teachers. I know, I shouldn't be feeling like this but I can't stop. I let out a scoff before rolling my eyes and walking towards my seat.

After that seems like forever, the bitc— I mean the teacher finally left and she turned to face us and start her discussion.

I wasn't really paying attention, I don't know what is going on but seeing her flirt just makes me mad. I mean, come on, she's still married to me. I just let out a deep sigh and tried to forget about it, which is failed by the way.

"I want you all to get a partner for your project." I heard her say in a cold tone.

Everyone starts getting their own partners while I still haven't moved an inch when someone coughs beside me.

I look up and saw Gabriel, my suitor, standing there with a smile. For the record, I never entertained him. I'm loyal even though she's not.

"Hey, uhm, would you like to be my partner?" He shyly asked and I was about to say something when we heard a loud bang.

We look forward and there she is, looking at me with stern and cold look, "Sorry, accidentally dropped the book." Professor coldly said and I internally smirk before turning my gaze back to Gabriel. Two can play this game, Johansson.

"Yes, ofcourse! I would love to." I happily replied which made him smile and his face lightened.

Whatever his reply would be got instantly cut off when someone shouted and I know very well who it is.

"Okay! Seems like everyone's have a partner, the deadline will be on Friday and no extensions. That would be all for today, class dismissed." She said and gathered her things, "Oh, and by the way, Y/LN please come to my office after this. You forgot your clothes at my house last night." She casually said with innocent smile on her face while my jaw dropped.

Everyone is in shock too, and I saw her smirk before casually leaving the room like she didn't say anything.

What the fuck?