#dark!natasha romanoff

[imaginedanvrs]

show and tell

masterlist

dark!wandanat x reader. sub!wanda, dom!natasha, dom-turned-sub!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: cheating, dubcon, undiscussed voyeurism, exhibitionism, size kink, strap on sex (r giving and recieving), mentions of tribbing, praise, degrading, gun play, threats of violence, rough sex, begging, masturbation

“Too much…y/n- baby,” Wanda panted helplessly. Despite the words she was hardly able to speak, her legs tightened their hold on you whilst you pushed your newest toy deeper. The Sokovian whined as her back arched off of her King sized bed and her fingers clawed into your back. 

  You grinned, gazing down at the beautiful view you had created. “All that power yet you can’t take a few extra inches,” you remarked. “And there I thought this poor neglected pussy would be desperate for it after being left alone for so long,” you continued, drawing your hips back only to thrust in further. She was so close to taking it all, she just needed some extra encouragement. 

  “Please,” she uttered, eyes connecting with your own the way they always did. She was so influenced with lust she was practically at your mercy, so you filled her to the brim with a grunt. “Fuck!” Wanda hissed, nerves ablaze. You felt her slick against your thighs when your pelvises pressed together and acknowledged the signal she was ready. 

  You fucked Wanda like it was the last time you’d do it, because that was always in question. She had an unpredictable life and her marriage was even more so. As though the absence of planning wasn’t challenging enough, the fact that Wanda was married to the world’s best spy (and assassin) was constantly looming over you. 

  “I bet she never makes you feel this way,” you said, watching Wanda’s blissed features as she moaned breathlessly. She looked insatiable when you had her like that, cheeks flushed, hair messed, pupils blown. All from your actions. “You like when I fuck you with this big cock?” You questioned with a smirk, as though you couldn’t hear how wet she was. 

  “I love it,” she cried out, mind frayed. “So good.” She just couldn't help herself. Neither could you. 

  “Better than her?” She met your cocky grin with a mere flash of hesitation before the carefree smile returned. 

  “So competitive,” a voice behind you mused. Your recognition was instant and you didn’t even turn around when you made to scramble out of the bed. You didn’t get the chance. With a distressed whine, Wanda’s magic entangled with your frame and pulled you flush against her until the strap was buried to the hilt once more. 

  “Wanda,” you gasped, unsure if she had heard her wife come in. “Let go,” you hissed as you heard the widow’s boots thud across the floor. Wanda didn’t oblige and instead began to move your hips for you to resume her pleasure. 

  “Stop that,” Natasha demanded and you stilled, unable to escape. “She was just saying how I could never make you feel this way, so by all means, let her go ahead,” she told her wife, gliding her cold fingertips over your hips and pushed you down. You registered Wanda’s hitch at the action. 

  “Please, I-” you tried but the spy wasn’t interested. 

  “Shut the fuck up.” You knew better than to argue with the Russian, especially once she rounded the bed to kiss her wife tenderly. 

  “Welcome home,” Wanda greeted, still very flushed to her wife’s amusement. You eyed the pair warrily, your heart hammering against your chest so hard you felt your ribs bruise. It almost stopped short when Natasha’s glaze turned cold and locked in on you. 

  “Fuck her,” she ordered. You didn’t dare object but had to tear your eyes away as you dutifully began to thrust into the woman beneath you. You focused on Wanda’s sweet noises of pleasure in an attempt to forget your fear, but it was difficult with Natasha’s stalking behind you again. 

  “So you’re the one who’s been fucking my wife while I was saving the world,” she commented casually. “Such a big strap on you too,” Natasha continued as she watched the soaked toy leave Wanda’s pussy only to be driven back in. “Does it make you feel tough to use this on her? How would you feel if I used this nasty cock on you?” You felt Wanda clench around you at her words. 

  “I’m sorry!” You tried again, imagining all of the different weapons that she could be carrying on her. 

  “You’re sorry you were caught,” she corrected. “If you make my wife cum I might consider letting you leave here with all of your limbs,” she considered, delivering a hard smack to your ass. You jolted forwards and heard Wanda cry out, falling into the rhythm Natasha pushed you into in a desperate attempt to please them both. It wasn’t hard, you had fucked Wanda countless times before, but you momentarily regretting bringing such a large toy to use under pressure. Still, it didn’t seem to be an issue for the Sokovian who gasped into your shoulder, peering at her wife with a knowing glint. Unknowingly to you, Natasha winked back with the same smirk she had stripped you of. 

  “ты хорошо себя чувствуешь, дорогая?” You frowned at the Russian’s words, knowing they were directed at Wanda but still feeling like you should know what they say. 

  “Wha-” you turned to question Natasha only to be met with the barrel of her handgun pointed at your head. You instantly cowered away but knew that even if you had tried to leap out of the bed again, it was pointless against the assassin. 

  “так хорошо!” Wanda answered, entirely unphased by the weapon she happened to be in the firing range of. Natasha hummed, seemingly pleased with her partner’s response.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you,” she told you pitifully. “As long as you do what you came here to do.” You figured there wasn’t much point protesting any longer, so you turned back to the woman beneath you and tried to pin all of your focus on her as you usually wouldn't without prompt. Even with a gun pointed at your head, you couldn’t stop admiring how much Wanda looked like some tainted angel that had succumbed to her desires. 

  “Don’t stop,” she called to you. She was breathless, desperate and despite her partner’s looming presence, entirely under your influence. You fucked Wanda relentlessly, just the way you knew she went crazy for until it became hard for you not to grow smug at the sounds you were drawing from her infront of her wife. Soon, the gun became a lingering thought and Wanda returned to the forefront of your mind as she had a habit of doing. 

  “I’m gonna cum,” she announced as your hips slapped against her own. You felt the tension in the room rise accordingly but didn’t let it affect you as you drove your fake cock into Wanda’s pussy harder. 

  “That’s it, fuck,” you encouraged, feeling the harness rub against you with every thrust that Wanda tried to meet. She dug her nails into your back as she came, soaking the toy that she clung to with such might that you had a challenge fucking her through her high. You rocked your hips against her as you coaxed her through her orgasm and felt yourself become impossibly wetter. Her slick was running down both your thighs and you wanted nothing more than to throw the harness off and rub your cunt against her ruined one. Perhaps you might have if it weren’t for the eyes on the both of you. 

  You grinned down at Wanda, your arrogance gradually making its way back until Natasha cut it short by dragging the harness off from your waist, as though she could read your mind. For a moment, you really did wonder if she was going to have you do what you were thinking of, until you noticed her tightening the harness to her own hips with practised ease. Somehow, seeing it on the widow made the strap look bigger. 

  You snapped your head back to Wanda when she began to shuffle herself out from under you and up towards the headboard that she rested against with heavy eyes. You made to follow until the barrel of the gun was pressed into the centre of your back and you were forced back down into the mattress with a grunt. 

  “You think we’re done?” Natasha scoffed. “What do you think, detka?” You peered up at Wanda with wide eyes only to see her fingers had returned to the space between her legs that was still red and leaking. The mischievous glint in her eyes was one you didn’t trust one bit. Your instincts were right. 

  “Make her take it,” the Sokovian husked. 

  “как скажешь,” Natasha replied simply, tossing the unnecessary gun to the side so that she could place both hands on you waist and lift your ass into the air. 

  “Wait,” you tried, knowing how large the toy was and how tight the fit would be. It was rare that you were on the receiving end so you were sure you weren’t ready for such a toy. At least you had worked Wanda up to it. Her wife didn’t seem to care because barely a second passed until you felt the head nudge at your exposed pussy. You could show your fear as much as you wanted, but you all heard the sound of the toy against your wetness. You whined into the bed, accepting you were made. 

  “I bet you wanted this from the start,” Natasha mused, pushing the toy past your reluctant entrance. You held the sheets in a death grip and cried out into the mattress at the immediate stretch. “You just need to be put in your place. Made to feel like the bitch you are,” she spat, pushing inch after inch into your dripping pussy without any consideration. 

  “Please!” You wailed inaudibly, needing a moment to adjust to the intrusion. Apparently you hadn’t earned that yet, because Natasha forced the rest of the toy in with a low groan that was overshadowed by your pleas of protest. It felt like you were being split apart, walls stretched to accommodate the cock you had such a thrill using just minutes prior. Needless to say, that power had been stripped. 

  “What happened, tough guy? Is it too much?” The Russian laughed. You registered Wanda’s breathy moans picking up again. “Too bad.” She drew her hips back only to slam them back into you along with every inch of the toy. You whined, high in your throat, and tried to close your legs but Natasha held them firmly apart. “No, no. Take it all. It’s only fair,” she pointed out, slamming herself against you. 

  The pain was prominent and stubborn, enhanced with every sharp thrust into your cunt that was soaked beyond belief, and you were powerless against it. Your slick only served to allow Natasha to fuck you as hard as she wished as your walls obediently parted for her to reach your depths in ways you had never felt. With that, the pleasure was finally able to peek through the haze of pain. 

  “Such a fucking whore letting me use you like this,” Natasha hissed but you hardly registered her over your burning sensations. She grabbed ahold of your hair and hauled your head up enough for your neck to ache and forced you to stare at her blissed out wife who sat pleasuring herself at your defeat. “You like being turned into a brainless fucktoy?” She asked. You didn’t respond as you looked at Wanda, knowing it would counteract with everything you had ever uttered to her but the harsh slap to your ass rid you of that final secret. 

  “Yes,” you whimpered. At the confession, Wanda fingered herself harder though it was clearly nothing compared to what her wife had you subject to. 

  Natasha’s thrusts were harsh, deliberately pushing as far inside you as she possibly could each time to make you bask in how large the toy was and how much it filled you up. You were stretched out perfectly around the toy, reshaped to take it as much as Natasha pleased. She was cruel, etching the words of ‘slut’ and ‘dumb’ into your mind as she ruined you in every sense of the word. 

  “I know you’re getting close, you’re clenching around me like a desperate bitch in heat,” Natasha told you, feuling Wanda’s arousal. 

  “Make her cum, make her know how good it feels,” the Sokovian called. Natasha huffed.

  “You’re lucky she’s here,” she muttered, clearly having planned on leaving you hanging despite the ruthlessness of the way she pounded into you. 

  Your moans grew along with Wanda’s and a matter of moments later, you were cumming around the unforgiving cock as hard as she had, pushing your own face into the bed to avoid meeting her eye in your moment of complete helplessness. You pushed back against Natasha as you came, desperate to have as much of her inside of you to cling to as your mind went blank. Your chest heaved and the world went quiet as your orgasm rushed through you. It was so much. Too much, all at once. 

  Once the intense waves finally finished crashing over you, you felt a pair of hands lift you up and place you on another body. You couldn't place either of them, too frazzled to tax your brain with the task, but you appreciated the warmth regardless and didn't fight it when a red haze clouded your mind and pulled you into a state of measured unconsciousness.

[daddynattt]

Bring The Pain

Pairing: Dark! Ex-Girlfriend Ghostface Natasha Romanoff x Ex-Girlfriend Reader

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI. Nat has a penis, murder, noncon, manipulation, toxic Nat I guess?, breeding, blood, knife play/cutting, choking, degrading, reader is a bit on the tougher side, Nat calling herself daddy once or twice.

Summary: An unexpected surprise awaits for you at home after a long day at work.

First Ghostface Nat Fic

Masterlist

Natasha watched as you and your date walked back to your apartment. She hated the way you were laughing at what she was saying, her arm wrapped around your waist as if it belonged there. As if she had any right to touch you. To touch what’s hers. She stands in the distance, her black cloak and mask keeping her hidden away in the dark night.

—--

You let out a tired sigh, the sound of your keys jingling as you open the door to your apartment. As soon as the door closes shut, you fall back against it, your eyes fluttering shut as the back of your head falls against it with a soft thud. Slowly, you remove your shoes, throwing your bag in the corner before making your way deeper into your apartment. The workday was long and tedious, dealing with obnoxious and rude customers that made you want to punch them square in the face; the usual.

You lift your eyes up off the ground, not prepared for the sight you see in front of you. There is Emily, the girl you’ve gone on a few dates with, her body slumped in the chair she’s tied to with blood dripping down her body and onto your living room floor. You cover your mouth at the gruesome scene, your stomach turning into knots. And yet you can’t seem to tear your eyes away, suddenly frozen in place. Multiple cuts litter her skin, her neck is sliced open, and you shut your eyes as the smell of blood finally hits your nose.

You suddenly feel the presence of someone in your apartment with you, heavy footsteps walking closer, a cold shiver running down your spine.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

Natasha slowly tilts her head to the side at your words, a proud smile tugging at her lips underneath the mask, wondering if you know it’s her. But who is she kidding, of course she is aware that you know.

The two of you used to date, inseparable from the start, but you broke it off with her about a month ago. You became aware of her dark desires and tendencies, her possessiveness making you feel like a prisoner in your own relationship. She was demanding, aggressive, but the sick side of you strangely missed her.

You hear her chuckle, dark and deep. Your trembling eyes open and land on her, breath hitching at the sight of her dressed up as Ghostface. You knew about her desires for the character, the two of you indulging in your sexual fantasies while she wore the mask, but you never expected her to actually do something so vile.

“You’re sick.” The redhead lets out another chuckle, and you're frozen in place as she slowly makes her way closer towards you. Her hand grips your chin in her blood-stained glove, the wet feeling making you grimace.

“Aww darling, don’t be mean. Did you really think anyone else was allowed to have you? To touch you? You’re mine. You belong to me,” Natasha growls.

You scoff at her words and remove yourself from her grip, your eyes narrowing at her.

“Last time I checked, we weren’t together anymore, and I can go out with whoever the fuck I want,” You hiss as she grips onto your hair roughly, pulling your head back and looking down at you underneath the mask.

“Shut the fuck up, you stupid whore. If I can’t have you, nobody else can. Do you understand?” You gasp at the feeling of her knife against your neck, and she turns you around to look at the dead body in front of you. “Look at what you did. She’s dead because of you. This is what happens when you try to replace me. Maybe I should kill you too, for being such a dumb, stupid girl and thinking anyone else but me could have you.”

The pain comes instantly, and you look down at the blood dripping down onto your shirt, your eyes widening slightly at the knowledge that she just sliced into your skin with her knife, the same one she used to kill Emily.

“Fuck you! You’re crazy!” You shoot back.

The words are true, but your body betrays you, her breathless chuckle against your ear sending a shiver down your spine. Natasha drags you towards your bedroom, her grip on your hair not loosening, only tightening further if anything. She pushes you onto the bed, her stance tall and dangerous as she looms over you, and you can’t do anything but stay rooted in your spot as you look up at her, knowing you can’t do anything to get out of this, wondering for a moment if you really even want to. You feel her hands on your body in an instant, tugging your clothes off your body, her movements rough and desperate. In less than a couple of seconds, you’re completely naked underneath her, and you can feel her eyes roaming your body, even though you can’t see them.

“Mmm, that's it. Look at that gorgeous body. It belongs to me, all of you belongs to me,” Natasha mumbles.

You let out a quiet gasp as each one of her hands grip onto your thighs, her grip rough and bruising as she spreads them apart, kneeling in between them. Your body shakes slightly underneath her – whether it was in anticipation or in fear, you were not quite sure. The feeling of her cold knife, covered in blood, shakes you out of your thoughts.

You wonder what she’s thinking, or what expression she is wearing on her face underneath the mask, wishing for a moment that you could see her face. Your body tenses as you finally feel the painful sting, the knife cutting into your skin, her hold on you strong as you try to move away. After a few moments, heart beating quickly and a few tears slipping down your cheeks, you look down at your thigh, N.R, her initials carved into your skin, marking her claim on you. You look up at her with wide eyes, and you hear a low growl come from her lips.

“Fuck, you look so perfect like that. You belong to me, see baby? Oh I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you,” Natasha groans. “I own you, all of you. Gonna make sure you don’t forget it.” In one swift movement she unbuckles her belt, sliding it off and throwing it aside before pulling the zipper down and removing her pants and boxers. You instinctively lick your lips when you see her cock spring free, hard and leaking pre-cum from the tip. Natasha lets out a soft moan, before grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you towards it. “Be a good girl for daddy and suck my dick, okay baby? C'mon, I miss the feeling of your mouth on me.” And you force yourself to do as she says. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck darling, your mouth feels so good. I missed it so much.”

You gag around her length, her grip on your hair tightening as she pushes you further down, humping your face as she makes you deepthroat her deeper. Her moans hit your ear, and you’re ashamed at what they do to you, feeling your slick against your inner thighs as you try to gain some friction from rubbing them together. She notices your movements and lets out a breathless chuckle.

“Such a dirty little bitch, aren’t you?” Natasha cannot help her amusement. “You’re enjoying this, hmm?”

You gasp for air once she pulls her hips back, coughing as you feel the burn at the back of your throat, your eyes watering from her rough movements. She wraps her hand around your throat, pushing you back down onto the bed as she bottoms out inside you, your back arching and a loud moan escaping your lips at the unexpected intrusion. Her hips slam into yours in rough, long strokes, her hand around your neck tightening. You grab onto her wrist, looking up at her as you try to get some air into your lungs, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the pleasure from her rough thrusts.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good around me. Your slutty hole is just squeezing my cock. I should breed this dirty little pussy and fill you up with my cum so you become pregnant, make sure you can never leave me again.” Your eyes widen at her words, shaking your head as best as you can against her rough grip on your throat. You’re finding it hard to breathe, and Natasha lets out a devilish snicker. “Not like you have a choice, darling. Gonna stuff you full of my cum, get you pregnant, you’ll be mine forever.”

Tears slip down your face as you’re finding it harder to breathe, and you gasp for air once she finally lets go, before wrapping her arms around your body in a hug, fucking into you deeper and faster.

Her thrusts start to become sloppy, and you know that she is close to her release. She lets out soft moans and grunts into your ear, the feeling of her release so deliciously close, feeling it building up inside her. After a few more thrusts, you let go around her cock, a loud whimper escaping your lips as your back arches off the bed and up into her body, and the feeling of your release causes her to let go as well. Dumping you full of her cum with a loud groan, filling you up to the brim. Staying inside you for a few moments to make sure nothing slips out, ensuring you are properly bred.

You feel her stroking your hair, her breath ragged against your ear, and your body shakes underneath hers as the realization of what just happened hits you. Natasha removes the mask from her face, and you look up at her as she speaks.

“You’re mine, darling. You’re not going anywhere, m’kay? You belong to me.” The words make you sob. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re going to become pregnant and have my child. You’re not allowed to leave me now baby, I won’t let you.”

Her lips attach to yours in a sloppy kiss, leaving you no chance to respond as she goes on to have her way with you again, and all throughout the night.

[swaqcenix]

The Devil was an Angel First | N. Romanoff

Natasha Romanoff x fem!stripper reader

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Summary: It was a risk and a job worth taking, simply use your ability to seduce to earn enough money to get you your university degree. Yet you didn't anticipate the owner of the strip-club to take a significant interest in you, but what can she do? As soon as Natasha saw you, you were hers.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x!fem stripper reader, employee x boss, forbidden romance

Warnings: 18+, slight dark!natasha romanoff, manipulation, strip-teasing, lap-dancing, pole-dancing, fingering, semi-public sex, oral (n to r), mommy kink, strap-on, choking,degrading, over-stimulation, handcuffs and toys, reader is easily manipulated!

Word Count: 9K

AN: This is heavily inspired by the song Pray by Xana, you could listen to it while reading this to get an extra bit of the atmosphere ;)) Also I wil be taking small requests or drabbles for this specific fic/pairing as I'm secretly addicted to this concept.. (not so secretly.)

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

Slipping amongst the crowds, your eyes dart around the room as the sounds of the club itself echo through your body. The lighting was illuminating each corner of the room, but stopping in certain bleak shadow's contrasting well with those who put on a performance.

The smell of slick sweat and hot bodies mingling through the room made your nose twitch through instinct and it was around this time your mind was wondering whether this was the right call.

University had been always your major goal in life, pass through High-school get your qualifications and your grades, just don't fuck up. For most of your life you'd remained hidden in the shadows, contempt to live life remaining hidden away while the flashlight of beams hit the sky's ground touching everything but yourself.

Yet apparently life deemed it not apparent that this was the case for you. Instead when your family collided into debuts and the household becoming a simply standing memory of what once was and never could be's you knew the longing for snatching your degree's up in higher education was slipping like fog and air through your fingers.

Would that be a common knowledge concept and reality to turn towards darker paths? Well, darker in regards to your family's eye-line anyway. You simply saw it as an opportunity for people who enjoyed doing things their own way, their own style and didn't wish to follow into the lights of the sky like others we're unique.

Your family wouldn't be appreciating your actions but it didn't matter. It realistically couldn't no matter how much they perhaps frowned at the idea. You could perhaps go into depth of how it wasn't selling your body but allowing it to be seen, allowing others to get a taste of the salt and the the aroma of flavours their hearts desire, but never fully satisfied.

Pole-Dancing wasn't something you'd be opposed to doing by any means. Watching the way they drift through the air, holding onto the bar with such pristine confidence and high agility hit your stomach in all the right ways. Nimble and soft fingers holding onto the pole with such grace their body's dancing into the fire of the night, other's moving with grace and affirmation.

The men and women watching their every action their every step with such a wide eye their lustful thoughts screaming with such a power your own ears rang. Black stiletto's clinging to the poles with a strength that made you doubt your own abilities despite having the darkest of secrets lingering on thoughts.

Quiet girls always tend to have the deepest of desires, the fieriest of personality. The set determination on being quiet, being forgotten and not wanting to be seen always portrays just how difficult life could dance around in a sea of wonder and mystery.

The air smelt so much of blood sweat and tears, the smoke driving the fuel into everyone's body, an ignition lighting up. You turned towards the bar deciding to opt on a drink, probably a hardcore whiskey if you wanted to get through this alive and sane, the burning feeling would ground you heavily to reality.

Turning on your heels, your contrasting deep-blood heels clacked heavily on the floor, treading with a walk that helped you do the one thing you'd avoided doing. Being seen.

Eyes watched, heads tilted and words of whisper drifted across the room as you brought the attention away from the other worker's sensing some hard glares and other longing looks. It was no secret you had the looks, it was just never in your cards, not your line of sight, but the devil didn't always play with fire until pushed within the flames.

"Whiskey neat please," your voice was firm and held no conversation for an argument.

The barman glanced at you and you simply watched as his eyes glanced at you, looking you up and down. You could practically feel the budge in his pants grow from here and the self-refraining you were doing from rolling your eyes was repulsing.

You weren't about to start off your first time in this place by pissing off the men you could encounter more often in telling them you not into indulging in their acts. Explaining to men who couldn't understand the word no when it comes to simply not being interested in them was not a path you cared to go down for the time being, instead settling on biting your tongue.

Sure, it didn't mean you couldn't make some impressions around here though. You'd already made a rather splendid entrance by sauntering around capturing lingering eyes of the men and women which allowed your red tinted lips to tilt upwards.

The barman worked nimbly, his hands being heavy but not without meaning as he flipped bottles around like he was performing an act. Normally this would entice most women to jump for joy and use some ogle eyes towards him. However, you were in fact not most women, you simply walked through the world of shadows until you decided to finally allow the light to kiss your skin in all the right areas.

He slowly slid the drink down to you as you tossed him the dollar bills owed and sauntered off in means to find the owner of this establishment. The music moved above you like puppet's on a string as you did your best to try and move through the blinding strobe lights and bodies mingling into one.

Guessing that the owner would find you before you found them, your body decided to make it's way over to a table waiting for them to arrive with introductions, you crossed your legs simply playing with the bottom of the whiskey glass, swirling it around for play as you chucked it down your throat.

The feeling of the burn hit you instantly and you squinted for a moment before a heavy sigh escaped the opening of your lips leaning back in the chair once again becoming one with the shadows. Besides the demons in everyone else's heads seemed to be having their own rituals one of which you weren't enticed on indulging in such acts.

The approaching sound of heels made your body almost churn with anxiety for reasons currently unknown to you.

The approaching sound of heels made your body almost churn with anxiety for reasons currently unknown to you. Doing well to not attract attention you glanced through your glass trying to picture who was approaching and a flash of red curls took through the reflection.

Your lips tilted upwards in a mischievous smirk as you leaned back in your seat, a feeling of excitement coursing through your veins. Your mind wandered as you presumed the mystery woman was approaching ready to allure you into sinful acts of seduction and dance through desire into the night.

Instead, what was not predicted was the black stiletto heels coming to a stand still right behind your table, a hot and heavy breath lingering in your ear. Your body tensed and you felt the smirk dripping from the woman behind you as you tilted your head turning around to be met with someone who should be the devil in disguise, one to lure you entirely out of the shadows and touch the fires to ignite you entirely.

"You must be Y/N. Y/LN. I am Natasha Romanoff, Miss Romanoff to you. Owner of Desiring ignition. I will interview you in the back rooms if you don't mind?" her voice asking a question but orders slipping from the sinful tongue.

Your body moved before your lips did and you found yourself following after the redhead like an obedient dog, for a minute forgetting yourself entirely and not thinking, just acting like a string was tugging you along.

Her red hair was distinctive even against the darkened tone of the room, the lights dimming in and out didn't affect it as it shone like fire and ash, the devil reincarnated you knew. Her hips swayed with an intent to drive a man wild but in a way she didn't wish for any of them, simply alluding to her own intoxicating beauty, poison and toxic.

The eyes followed you both and you scampered after her down a neon-purple hallway, the colour's almost blinding you within a trance. Finding your bearings you knew you'd need to pull yourself together if you wanted this job so decided to play in the same game, the same chess board. Play with the devil.

Her hands clasped tightly around the handle as Miss Romanoff lead you into what you presumed to be her office before shutting the door behind her. The noise seemed to almost be drowned out now, as though she'd installed noise cancellation into her office.

Your eyes scanned the room trying to analyse and get anything you could on this woman. You'd always liked to get to know someone through their surroundings and what that said person associates themselves with, especially if it works in your favour.

The office itself was dimly lit but well cleaned and decorated minimally. To your left there was a desk, mahogany coloured with 2 chairs on ether side, the desk holding files that your eyes couldn't capture from the distance you stood. A solemn picture held itself strongly on the desk of what you could make out to be a younger blonde woman, perhaps the same age as you or a couple years older.

The redhead nodded her head towards the chair on the other side of her desk, before sitting down on a black leather one herself. Even sat down in the dimly lit office you could tell she was a woman of business, not one to be meddled with nor to cross without paying the price which for yourself was bad given your track record of loving to stir the pot.

Her eyes lingered over your own for a while examining you, looking you up and down in a way your body almost jolted at the sheer intensity of her gaze. Not wanting to keep the older woman wanting any longer, your feet moved on the own accord sitting down on the chair opposite of her. Her posture was still up straight, impossibly held and elegant opposite of your own.

"So," she began by looking through your files as though you'd be arrested under a warrant issued for the most wanted criminal.

"You've got good grades from schools, a track record of not seeming to show herself within public eye and even held debates and meetings within clubs. Your jobs previously consist of coffee shops and waiting so what exactly is it you have to offer here," she stated her voice was laced with disdain and annoyance.

"Well that's correct yes, but I have goals in life and things I need to achieve. I can't get there without doing this first, trust me it's a last resort," you replied cringing inwardly at your response.

It was a stupid mistake you'd created by saying this job was a last resort. That would be the last thing this goddess of a pain was waiting to hear, especially when wanting to employ you. You'd fucked up royally but like she stated, you had a tendency for debate clubs and there was nothing better you were good at than worming you way into or out of situations.

Her eyebrows shot upwards at your response and you watched with fear as the redhead perused her lips together eyeing you once again with a look of utter irritation.

"So you see us as a last resort?" She asked stiffly.

"No, nothing like that-" you tried to reason but her hand waved in the air dismissing your comment before you'd began.

"Y/L/N. Do you know how many people come here asking for jobs hm?" Her head titled to the side lips twitching while watching you squirm.

"No..."

"Over 200. How many do you reckon we employ exactly?"

The venom and toxic poison in her voice almost sent you spiralling you couldn't help but feel entirely hooked on it. Yet the feeling in your mind told you to run, leave before you headed down the road of embarrassment and utter danger.

"I'm not sure, Miss Romanoff," you voice was surprisingly even for someone being scolded in a private office room.

"The answer is 4% out of those 200 get employed. Yet, a silly girl like you walks along struts in like she owns the fucking place and says it's a last resort," she taps her finger on the side of her face mockingly.

"No.. I can dance and I'm incredibly talented on a pole," you tried to reason but she once again shushed you in a dismissive tone.

"You're dismissed off you go," she shooed you off and your legs stood by themselves your mind no longer in control of your body.

As your body walked towards the door head daring not to look back your hands went towards the door handle, before lingering on the metal for a moment. Your mind danced away thinking of thoughts and how you couldn't give up so easily. You came in this bar, this strip-club looking for a job and you'd be damned to go without one. Sure the woman behind you was a stole cold bitch, but she came with fire. You had the gasoline to set this place alight.

Turning on your heels, you faced the older woman who went from looking down at her files with disinterest to whipping her head up. Miss Romanoff tilted her head to the side as you approached with a surge of confidence that you didn't know you had running through your veins setting your blood alight. Your body leaning over her desk you smirked as she watched and you could sense her tense beneath you.

"Let me show you what I can do," your voice was whispered with sultry and laced with such confidence that was missing moments ago.

The redhead thought for a moment, her lips twitching ever so slightly at the sides before tilting up. She removed herself from her chair carrying her composure elegantly as ever before entering your personal space.

"Be my guest, show me what you can do," she smirked.

Before you could even blink, Miss Romanoff snatched your hand and lead you out of her office towards one of the unoccupied rooms. The sparks you felt when her hand clasped your hand and rising towards your wrist jolted your stomach giving you somersault's.

She on the other hand, snatched her hand away as quickly as she took it and you weren't sure why that caused such a sting within you. The older woman wasn't required to touch you in any way, but her response was as though she'd been burnt in opposition to your own body's reaction wanting to feel her touch ignite you more.

Suddenly the vast realisation of reality crashed down on you and your stomach churned in thought. Your mindset couldn't be thinking this type of way in any shape or form towards someone who could perhaps be your boss. This wasn't about to become some cliche film style where you fuck your boss, you couldn't give her that style of power.

Yet, as you let your mind indulge further in thoughts, she wasn't your boss. Not yet and not now, besides if you wanted this job a thirst to prove yourself to the flames of hell as she was, you were going to have to join the game.

Heading further down the hall, Natasha stopped at the door to her left and you titled your head in anticipation. The feeling of not knowing what you could possibly find was always thrilling yet had an edge of dread that filled your lungs and ran through your veins.

Observing her silently, you watched the redhead slip out a singular key from her pocket before slipping it with ease into the lock and turning it. Her hand which you tried definitely too hard to not focus on wrapped around the handle turning it before standing to the side awaiting you to head inside.

Silently entering the room, you found yourself coming to a sudden halt at the sight that stood before you. A singular pole stood in the middle of the room, tall and with a bolden look about it almost calling to you begging you to dance upon it. Towards the corner of the room lay what you predicted to be a lot of BDSM toys ranging from handcuffs and blindfolds to nipple clamps and leg spreaders.

Your cheeks flushed heavily at the sight as heat ran through your body and you found yourself turning away from the toys, eyes instead landing on a chaise lounge. The furniture was a deep red, crimson in fact darkened like the blood flushing heavily through your veins, perhaps darker than Ms Romanoff's hair. Turning your head in her direction you realised she'd been watching your reaction as you absorbed and gawked at the room, causing you to flush even further.

The older woman simply smirked at you before making her way over to the chaise lounge, looking you up and down in what you originally thought was a judgmental look now seemed otherwise, before sitting with determination down onto the chair.

For a moment it was silence as she only stared at you examining you for a mere moments that felt like hours before rolling her eyes and scoffing. Her hand raised upwards as her index finger- that looked incredible you might add- came out and directed at the pole giving you a pointed look. Realisation hit your face and you realised what the redhead was asking of you, which caused all sorts of emotions to run through your head.

She was asking you to to give a full example of how you'd dance within her club, within her line of work and show yourself. Normally this wouldn't be a bother as you'd come to a damn strip-club for god sake, but it was the idea of dancing alone with her that sent your nerves spiralling and your body shaking beneath you.

Still, there was no point in arguments, you'd been the one to suggest showing her, but in hopes of a more lively atmosphere. Instead Miss. Romanoff had lead you to a secluded room one of which held what you predicted secrets hiding within the 4 walls for you to dance in.

Sucking in a tight breath you closed your eyes tightly shut counting to 3 before opening them once more. Getting your bearings around you, you strutted to the pole making sure to remove the jacket that clung tightly to your skin hugging you in all the right places. The jacket was placed to the side of Natasha and you tried not to smirk too much at the feeling of her eyes travelling over your form.

Her body stood up, walking over to a speaker in the corner causing you body to tense up slightly. If it was too loud it was sure to cause an uproar of attention that in this current moment you didn't want. Your mind was too focused on earning the approval and the full attention of the redhead selfishly to yourself despite wishing that you didn't indulge in such sinful acts.

You removed your pants, leaving yourself in only your polo shirt and underwear, trying your best not to make any sort of contact with her. You could have done pole-dancing in your pants but it wasn't a risk worth taking if you didn't want any slip ups and needed the grip. Instead you walked over to the pole closing your eyes tightly before opening them and glancing over at Miss Romanoff.

Her head was tilted to the side and you were almost convinced her eyes that you noticed earlier were the shade of emerald green like the piercing ground of earth were almost charcoal now, luring you into the mist of hazing sinful creatures and touching the igniting flame. Instead of contemplating thoughts any longer you let out a mere nod towards the older woman and she smirked turning on a song that widened your eyes as, girls girls girls by FLETCHER began to echo through the room.

Trying to once again ignore the intriguing implications behind the song you stepped forward flexing your hand back and forth continuously before gripping onto the pole tightly with your left hand. Your fingers curled instinctively around the metal bar and you cleared your mind. One of the first things you'd learnt about dancing and when understanding how to use the effective ways of pole-dancing was don't think just act.

You let your mind carry through the music eliciting the illusions of thoughts and song's as your body carried you through. You started off smoothly, swinging your way seductively around the pole keeping your outside leg straight before pivoting your inside foot at the same time.

Your mind carried through song as the beat's began to pick up, your outside foot worked through muscle memory hooking around the pole before your other joined gripping tightly.

As soon as you felt your body securely fitted on the pole your hips moved in ways of wonder as though art itself couldn't touch through paintings of masterpieces. Your back arched and your hip swayed in beat swinging yourself around the pole before your body flipped itself in ways of wonder, dancing and spinning with everything it had.

The song slowly began to draw to a close and it was then your eyes chose to linger from being shut as you made your distinctive signature move, swinging yourself around with a grace you didn't know was within you. Your body swung from the top to the bottom of the pole in the most seductive way possible as your fingers crossed over, before your eyes drifted to the red head.

It took everything within you not to let out a shit-eating grin when you noticed the gawking from Miss Romanoff who looked like she was ready to eat you up whole. Given any other circumstances you would have flushed or felt self-conscious, but instead you embraced the feeling of confidence as you gently slithered off the pole a laugh almost sliding past your lips.

You sauntered over to the older woman, teasing leaning over her body to grab your jacket only to be yanked down onto the couch. You felt the blood run course through your body you heart pounding so loudly you'd not be surprised if she could hear it herself. The room came to a heated silence, the tension thick and easily cut with a knife. Natasha's hand came up to cup your jaw tilting it to the side almost as though she wanted to judge that part of you too, or better yet distract herself from what she was initially going to do.

"Tomorrow, 8:30pm your shift will begin. I recommend not arriving late, or better yet arrive earlier to prepare yourself. You work hours will differ but tomorrow you'll be finishing at 3:30am. Understand sweetheart?" Her voice husked out and you were almost putty in her hands once more.

Your head nodded unconsciously, the primal instinct in you roaring to obey your now boss's instructions. The feeling of disgust ran through your body at the realisation of what you'd just performed despite it being your job area now. It wasn't the fact you'd pole-danced it was the secluded room and the song that made your body squirm.

The redhead seemed to thrive in amusement on that power and you weren't sure whether the heat that ran to your core was feelings you wished you didn't have or anger that turned into the feeling of lust, perhaps both. Her hand tightened on your chip ever so slightly to the point you thought her nails may cause intends within your skin, marking like a hot poker within it.

"Oh no, none of that. You use words to me okay? So do you understand dorogaya?" her tone showed no time from you for disagreement.

"Yes, I understand Miss. Romanoff," your voice was strong and assertive despite inside your body was a mess of sweat and utter chaos.

Natasha leaned back, stretching her arms across the couch staring at you for a moment before taking her lip between her teeth, clamping down hard. The sight was enough to send a hot gush of wetness between your legs and your mind screamed at you in retaliation, she was your boss. Her teeth gently let her lips go with a pop before standing up and walking up to the door, swinging it open with ease staring back at you with an expected look.

"Good girl," she whispered out her lips tilting up dangerously as your fixed your tousled hair that had become slightly damaged from dancing.

Your body reacted once more to the words almost jolting in response, but you did well to keep yourself refrained and intact. Instead you simply grabbed your belongings nodding towards the woman and headed straight for the main exit. Perhaps the acts you were prepared to partake in was deemed as sinful and immoral, you wouldn't give so much as a glance if they were. It felt like the devil was standing their glaring into your soul and you didn't care for anything else other than entering the gates and feeling the flames wrap around your body.

The next evening went as smooth as it could, the blasting of the music as your body danced in between of time to the tunes. Your personal favourite was the one's that went sensual before picking pace as it allowed you to do your signature moved before flaunting around people in a seductive manner. You'd thrived on how the men and women gawked at your, eyes popping out of their heads, drooling from the mouth like you were a treat they had to have.

Fellow colleague's had taken up on asking advice, specifically your new favourite Wanda who you added on further inspection was quite a looker. The way she'd bounce her brunette curls around her face as she danced into the night like nobody was watching always had you admiring her.

She herself had wanted tips from you, always seemingly interested by your dancing to the way you move on a pole, her eyes always lingering in sheer awe and amazement as though you personally had placed each star drifting through the sky. Yet, you always felt another pair of eyes, heavy and dark lingering in the shadows.

It was the type of shadow you'd spent your whole life hiding within but this aspect was dangerous. It felt cold mixed with fire alike, bonding in ways it shouldn't mix. The soul being ice and chilled to the bone with fire in the centre waiting to burn itself from the ground up. You constantly sensed the lingering eyes on your body but chose to ignore it, for you knew the consequences of the danger, you knew who those eyes belonged to you just couldn't face them to admit it.

It continued for the next week until Saturday came faster than anticipated. Your legs carried you through the building with ease and a sense of calm now almost as though you'd been there for years. In reality you'd become rather content with the building of Desiring ignition. You'd scarcely interacted with Natasha though, (thank god.)

It wasn't the exact concept of fearing the woman, no it wasn't that. It was the way she made you feel. It was like feeling towards the devil, it's forbidden you see red with anger, lust the picture painted of danger and intoxicating aroma.

You'd done well in avoiding the older woman but she did appear to be making it easer than anticipated, despite knowing the one hiding in the shadows, lingering not wishing to be seen but knowing you felt her presence seemed to enough for the older woman.

You had settled on something different this time, usually not opting for dresses preferring to dress loose but certainly stylish all the same. However this time, you'd decided to rock the boat and you weren't sure why.

Instead you'd settled on a deep emerald green, darkened than usual but curved around your body clinging in all the right ways. The anticipation and adrenaline of the reactions you'd receive left your mind racing, despite not wanting to show anything off entirely. Definitely not for her..

Directing yourself towards the bar, you walked over greeting who you'd now become accustomed to know as Bucky. He actually was opposing to what you expected after your encounter on the first night, he was just hesitant of newcomers. Instead now you'd become close to the man always offering a term of greeting.

"Same as usual?" He questioned winking as you both knew it was wrong to drink on the job.

Albeit it was hardly your fault, when it came to this job and work environment you'd hardly be faulted for having the odd drink to get by. Most days we're enjoyable, the women ogling over you and many wanting to touch what their desired hearts couldn't reach, like seeing a pebble in the ocean before the sea carries it out, perfectly sculpted but not yours to own.

Your lips curved up into a smirk filled with fire and mischief, the look of mystery plastered all over your face. Not a word spoken, your head nodded into his direction and Bucky nodded once in return. His body moved swiftly, preparing a small yet rather what the average person would deem an intoxicating strong drink for yourself as he slid it over.

Taking your drink you sipped away at it as you made your way onto the floor, seemingly into the sea of people. It was busy & you only knew it was going to get busier. Besides; you had an hour to kill before even remotely starting your shift so you might as well busy yourself.

It started simple, sitting down mingling with guests, eyeing up who was necessarily your desire for the night. All you needed was the money, even with the weighing guilt that sometimes poured over your head you needed to make your way into the world.

God only knows how you'd found yourself onto the dance floor, one moment you were sipping on your drink waiting for the beginning of your shift the next you were dragged onto the dance floor by a taller and seemingly older brunette. Her hands were dragging across your waist causing your face to flush.

Were you sure you were entirely within protocols here? Not at all, yet there was no rules you couldn't dance with the paying guests before your own night began. Though you were indeed certain Miss. Romanoff may cause some issues with this.

Alcohol wasn't even the reason for your confidence, it felt like something was drawing you to push boundaries that night to tempt yourself into desired that you shouldn't cross. You could say you don't bring your guests into the bedsheets like you do your demons but as the brunette's hands grazed across your stomach for a moment you short circuited.

You found your head tilting an angle towards Bucky's direction who was eyeing you with a concerned expression painted upon his face. His frown that narrowed through his forehead, eyes giving a dangerous tone, almost trying to warn you.

Still, you shrugged it off instead allowing the touch of another burn your skin though whether it was a burn of desire or the burn of hell you weren't sure. You were playing with the fires of lucifer here & partially enjoying yourself. Lips grazed slightly over your neck, almost allowing you to loose yourself instantly without a sudden care or thought.

People were silencing around you within beats of the music, like a chill had passed down from a frost bite. They were parting like royalty had arrived themselves, but you were completely unaware in your own mindset in your own thoughts.

Lips grazed your neck sloppily, yet it burnt like an ignition hell fire in your skin. Yet your mind was dancing somewhere else or better yet, someone else. It was like someone snapped a finger, as within a second like you'd blinked an eye and the warmth from behind you disappeared.

Widening your eyes, you opened them but a hand snatched you spinning you straight into a body. You stumbled forward legs like jelly, hands still shaking with adrenaline as their perfume invaded your senses. It was a sexy perfume smell no doubt, the aroma making it's way into your nose poisoning you. You'd almost breathed in, wanting more of the intoxicating taste of it, yet that wouldn't be ve-

Shit. Shit, shit shit.

If your suspicions were correct, which you were highly convinced they were then the perfume and the person you'd been dragged into was someone you dreaded finding you in that compromising position. A whisper drew you from the dread in the pit of your stomach and your stressing mindset as they leaned towards you.

"Enjoying yourself darling?" The voice carried the familiar edge you dreaded.

The feeling of bile rose in your throat from sheer anxiety and you gulped hard to keep yourself at bay. Slowly looking up, your eyes met the all too familiar green ones.. One's you could get lost in and fantasise about consi-

No, not to be thought of right now.

Her eyebrows were arched consistently and the familiar look of a stern facial expression was painted on your Boss's, Miss. Romanoff's face. Her lips were painted a blood deep red and the blush on her cheeks were making your legs like jelly, let alone your stomach's feeling of somersaults.

"I..." Stuttering voices was all you could muster right now.

A swift finger placed on your lips was all it took for your cheeks to hear up and you were certainly an embarrassing jumble of mess in front of her and everyone around you.

"Shh," her voice carried an authoritative tone but you were almost certain you could sense a lace of.. jealousy?

Surely that was an impossibility; she had nothing to be jealous about besides she was your boss, albeit a damn sexy one. Reality hitting back to you slowly you sensed the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and wanted in that moment for the ground to swallow you whole.

Gone was that confident attitude you easily found yourself mustering up to her, instead replaced with a timid jealous woman wanting nothing more but to run for your life. Your eyes didn't dare leave hers despite their sea of pure intensity and fire, though you didn't think you were capable of looking away even if you tried to.

A quick flick of her hand could be seen from your peripheral vision and as if someone had press play on a remote, the crowds resumed. Colleagues danced on laps, poles and bar stools while the noise resumed like they'd been frozen in time.

Before you even had the chance to speak, you were spun back around rather forcefully. However rather than letting you go, her hands yanked you flush against her chest, allowing you to feel her radiant body heat and the heat to come back to your cheeks once more.

Hands roamed over your body while her lips moved to your ear, a sultry almost lustful voice following suite.

"Well well, what was that little stunt hm? Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for private shows not giving a full on public display of borderline sex," she snapped though her hands still cupped your hips.

"I.. I can explain..."

Her hands cupped your clothed cunt causing you to cut your sentence off and gasp out. Embarrassingly, your body jerked forward into her hand showing how putty you were, easily giving into your boss.

"No, no I don't think so. You wanted a public stunt like that hm? Who's breasts are these?"

Her hand moved up to cup them, needing them through your dress causing you to almost cry out. You couldn't lie, you were grateful for the atmosphere being so loud and disoriented otherwise you'd have cried out from sheer embarrassment.

"M-Mine," you whispered through a half gasp earning you to feel her knee rub you subtly once more in your lower region.

"Wrong answer, don't get it wrong again hm?" She said through semi-gritted teeth and your body melted back into her.

Unsure of the adrenaline you had coursing through your veins you spun around and found some form of confidence in you to cup her own lower region.

"Yours," you whisper-shouted back due to the strength of the music, though your voice partially wavered.

It was obvious she was caught off guard through the sheer surprise that danced like the force of nature the wind dancing with the trees on a stormy night. Miss.Romanoff's lips tilted upwards into a smirk and without a word or a warning her hand clasped onto yours and you were being pulled swiftly down corridors.

Everything seemed to pass you buy in a blur as you had no recollection of one door to the next, nor did you dare to look at any faces glancing and gawking your way. Simply you decided to be an obedient little thing and follow Miss. Romanoff towards wherever she was leading you.

Suddenly, you came to a halt in front of a locked door slowly coming to the realisation this was Miss.Romanoff's personal room; no one was ever allowed to enter. A surge of some sort of excitement flooded the course of your veins in some way as she led you through.

Locking it behind her she pointed to her own personal chaise lounge and you obediently followed her instructions like a lost puppy, almost falling over your own feet to get to it. A low chuckle left her lips sending chills upon chills down your spine and embarrassingly hitting your core (that was probably now soaked.)

"Miss Romanoff I don't know if this is-"

"Natasha," she cut you off instantly smirking at you.

You gawked at the older woman like she'd just spoken in a foreign language. However she brushed it off, slowly approaching you like an animal would it's prey. Lifting your chin up she grinned down at you like a cheshire cat before huskily speaking.

"Call me Natasha. Though I'd also prefer to be called a different name, can your pretty little brain think of what that is?" She asked lustfully.

Gulping you had a smart idea, but didn't want to ask a stupid question. So you kept your mouth shut but apparently Natasha had other idea's towards your 'misbehaviour.'

"Colour," her voice was softer for a moment only by a slight tone but you sensed it.

It almost made you crack for a moment and come to your senses. An employee couldn't- shouldn't sleep with their boss. Yet, as you believed earlier the devil was technically an angel first and you wanted to touch the fire, you wanted her to touch you. However, it was evidence you were taking too long as you'd received an arched eyebrow and she grabbed you firmly by the chin awaiting her answer.

"Green but.. this is wrong you're my.."

A gasp cut you off as she placed her lips instantly on your neck biting down hard before sucking. You felt Natasha's lips trail up and down biting an area she could, knowing instantly it was going to leave a mark. Moans elicited past your lips as you found your head slowly adjusting to give more access.

She sucked and nipped at your skin like her life depended on it, it was intoxicating. She was starting a fire within you no one else could ever ignite. Natasha kissed her way back up to your face before whispering sultry into your earlobe.

"Now you want to keep your job don't you, you want to be a good girl for me?"

"Y-Yes I do Natasha," you went to move your hands in her hair when you felt something restrict you.

A deep blood red-handcuffs the same shade as her hair was holding you back and your eyes widened in realisation. The demon's in your head were fighting with each other as you felt her clamber her way into your lap.

"Now.. you're going to behave for mommy aren't you?"

She grinned at you arching an eyebrow while her plump red lips glistened under the dim lights. You couldn't bring yourself to respond to Natasha, you felt your stomach twisting in knots at the word and your brain go fuzzy.

Restriction on your neck caused your airways to tighten slightly, not too much but the pressure sent a heat to your core you didn't know could happen. She frowned at you sternly, a small crease of annoyance in between her forehead that you found dangerously hot and cute at once.

"Don't make ask twice detka, you should know in the time you've worked for me I hate repeating myself. Now be a good slut and respond."

Not wanting to face the consequences of hell knows what she'd do you nodded instantly a feeling of nervousness that was fuelled by desire and lust rising within you.

"Yes mommy, I'll behave. I promise!"

Your response pleased her, yet your brain didn't have much time to respond as a loud groan escaped your lips. The buzzing sensation pressed against your panties sent you spiralling into oblivion. Natasha captured your lips with her own, red lipstick smearing your own with a kiss, sealing your fate. Signing your soul to the devil seemed like a fate that could send anyone into a panic, but when it was Natasha Romanoff, it was pure bliss.

"Your moans are a delight to my ear sweet girl," her whispers against your lips only spurred you on further.

You found your hips grinding down against the toy your bottom lip become broken and bruised from how hard you were biting it. A small slap to the thigh sent you jolting as you looked up to see Natasha's stern look.

"You move when I tell you to move slut," she slurred out high on lust and desire and you felt a spiral of wetness shoot down to your glistening pussy that was most definitely dripping with desire.

You felt the pressure of the toy increase levels and it took you everything not to cry out in absolute ecstasy but the overwhelming stimulation, it was so intense your toes could curl.

"You're already coming undone are you for your mommy?" Natasha bit down slightly on your ear lobe her fingers trailing up to your throat once more as she whispers into your ear.

"When you lay down on the chaise lounge you'll be screaming my name tonight darling. Yet, did you honestly think that you could get away with that game Y/N?" Her voice dragged down your body as quickly as possible.

Teeth sunk into your skin, nipping sucking and licking into the depths of every single area Natasha could reach. You hands tried to fling over your mouth to muffle your moans, yet your restraining handcuffs brought you back to reality.

"They'll hear Na- Mommy," Your slip-up didn't go unnoticed as a slap to your thigh and a hard bite on your chest caused a cry out from your lips.

"Let them hear you. You wanted a show, I have every intention of giving you one."

Before your thoughts could catch up to your lips a rip echoed through the room as a strength had come from the redhead herself. Gasping as she put some pressure on your clit the intense feeling driving your body into an overwhelming feeling.

As her fingers pressed against your puffy lips you knew instantly you were getting addicted to the feeling; the ignition pushing you towards Natasha's capture. She was easily trying to capture her pray within you and you'd stupidly let her.

"Please.. I need more," You pleaded your brain foggy with lust and utter craving for Natasha in every way possible.

With a single flick of a switch you felt her turn the toy to maximum levels before her fingers were swiftly replaced with a lapping tongue. The cuffs that felt like chains kept to a wall yanked down as you tried to touch.

She spat on your clit and you felt the shit eating grin pass her lips as Natasha heard the familiar sound of tugging from them. Instead she tutted and her eyes grazed up connecting with your own, purposely dragging her tongue up your slit making you cry out from the intensity.

"You're a good girl aren't you hm? Taking your boss so well. Imagine if I got to do a public show with you.. God the way the crowds would go wild as I fucked you over and over again," Natasha lulled against your pussy.

The images dancing through your brain was sinful, absolutely disgusting to others but for some reason like you were trapped in a cage of sex you didn't care. Magic was a dangerous power and a dangerous curse yet she wheeled it all within this room, your body and your mind, your essence and soul.

As she shoved her tongue into your entrance another cry of intense joy, you weren't sure lust most definitely past your lips. Her free hand moved up to your breasts massaging the buds between her tips, sending you without permission releasing your juices all over her tongue.

Ms. Romanoff pulled back and the look on her face was not one of an impressed look, though that didn't stop her tongue swirling around her mouth getting the remaining taste left. That action alone sent another wave to your core despite the overwhelming feeling and you felt your legs like jelly simply from one round.

"Did I say you could cum?" Her voice was stern, boomed against the contrasting atmosphere of what the stench danced with sex, and sweat, desire and fire.

"I.. I didn't me-"

"Did. I. Say. You. Could. Cum?" She repeated her voice was filled with such an authoritative tone sending your mind back to your original meeting.

Had it not been for the handcuffs and the familiar stern look and not wanting any more disapproval from Natasha, you'd have coward away from embarrassment. Instead you shook your head wondering what on earth you'd gotten yourself into it wasn't like you were bound together but.. part of you lived from the excitement; she was a devil, demon of angel and hell with the need to feel her touch.

"No.. No Miss.Romanoff, you did not." Your voice rasped out exhausted from screaming already.

She stood up no word uttered and she disappeared around the back, leaving you to your thoughts for a moment. It felt like you were fucking with the goddess herself, but was it sanity? Was it safe to be sharing sheets and secrets behind closed doors? Possibly not, but her blood-red lips and curves of her body made it impossible not to fall into. A trap of love or lust, it wasn't even known to you within that sight, just the devil herself you'd taste it every-time.

A song brought you from your dancing curious thoughts, one that sent your body ice-cold and your eyes widening instantly. A song called 'Pray' You'd become one to recognise. It was a favourite with your regulars at the club. Except you hadn't quite realised Natasha herself had noticed, but you'd been proven quite wrong.

On the contrary, Natasha walked in with a thick deep red strap-on, one that was already wet ether with her spit or something else it was unknown. But, she knew and had seen it caused a rage in her she hated herself for. Yet, she had to have her way with you.

"Sit back," she ordered pleased instantly you'd complied with no sudden refusals or hesitation.

Without a warning she flung one leg over your body joined by the other leg, until she was sat in your lap straddling you. Instantly, a gut feeling surged through your veins flying through every pulse point sending a fire and ice in one through your very skin. Your suspicions were confirmed when she slowly started to move her hips on you with the strap on.

A lap-dance. A lap dance by Natasha Romanoff, your boss the fucking owner of Desiring ignition. Better yet it was with a strap on.

Her hips moved in a motion not even the most poisonous temptations of the world could, but Natasha out-beat them all. Her hands moved down her body over her hips and you watched in amazement as she began to thrust onto your leg while dancing like a majestic queen. Her moans spilled past her throat, giving you everything you desired sipping her up.

Your hands begged to move and your pussy pulsated allowing some juices to spill out. Your eye's pleaded with her to undo the cuffs but all you'd received in return, was a tut and a small pressure to your throat.

"You can touch soon detka. I'd like to have my fun now. Do you know how long I've waited to have my way with you?" She whispered her hips shaking and thrusting to the beat of the music.

"N-No," you answered honestly to mesmerised by her movements to figure out an answer.

"Since you first walked into that door. I needed you away so I didn't tempt myself with the cup of sinfulness, one that I shouldn't lead by. Yet, when I saw you dance.. Oh my sweet little slut. You were perfect. I needed to ruin all of you," she husked out shaking her strap slightly.

You almost came right from the scene in front of you, gaining your own kind of friction from her strap. However while the music beat sped up one lyric spurred her over the edge and caused her to break the chains of control, fly up from hell and take her prize.

'When she lays down to pray at night.. She'll be screaming my name.'

Something about that song lyric sent Natasha spurring forward and her hips bucked against your lap causing her to cry out in ecstasy. Her hands reached up undoing the cuffs breaking the barrier as your hands finally touched her hips, her olive silky skin feeling beautiful under your finger tips.

Her fingers suddenly managed to make their way underneath her body with a precision that seemed impossible to you and slammed themselves into your now over-stimulated pussy. You cried out in part-pain and mainly bliss the coil in your stomach building up.

She worked you like wonders themselves couldn't work the song blaring in the background. Natasha still continued to give you a lap-dance of sorts but mainly focused on getting the two of you off and fingered you hard and fast, her hips meeting some sort of thrust.

"Scream my name," left her lips and that's all it took.

The coil in your stomach snapped and you came once more all over her fingers, legs shaking and your eyes pooled with tears of joy from how incredible it felt. Natasha followed suite from the sight and the friction cumming all down her strap and some spilling onto your lap causing yourself to groan.

However, she had an ungodly amount of adrenaline pounding through her system as she clambered of your body leaning over your lips and throat demanding one thing of you.

"Suck."

Her voice was raspy sending a pool of wetness shooting down once more and you felt yourself let out some dripping juices by accident. You instantly took the strap on gagging on it as she shoved it deeply in your throat. Looking down, the sight was enough for Natasha to cum right there and then but she held it.

She wanted you to gag on her strap, shut your pretty little mouth up as she took in the sight of what was hers. Her sinful prize, her desired need was sucking her cock so well it was a bliss to see. Hearing you gag she rubbed your pussy once again causing you to cry out the stimulation being too much, yet Natasha ignored you.

She ignored you until your hips jerked up once more being greedy and desperate for her fingers or strap-on and she smirked in sheer delight. She'd made you putty in her hands. You didn't care anymore the manipulation of her job had worked wonders in your mind making it hazed with fuel of her touch and knowing only she could make you like this.

Clambering down, no warning was given as her cock suddenly found your puffy and over-stimulated entrance and her eyes drifted down. Natasha groaned at the sight, how ruined and how messy you were, wetness seeping down your thighs.

Not wanting to waist another minute, her cock slammed into you thrusting hard not giving you any time to adjust. Her lips moved fast and at a ferocious pace causing animalistic like grunts to leave your lips. Your mind danced with her and only her, it was like she'd made her mark engraved her and only her within it and you'd take it all, drink all of her and whatever she'd give you.

Sloppy slapping sounds hit the four walls of the room and her lips slammed into yours as she bit on your bottom lip. Your now free hands, moved into her hair tugging lightly causing a growl fit from an animal that could kill within seconds. Natasha kissed harder, hips slamming down without a single care and you felt yourself becoming close.

"Please.."

She grinned against your lips and you knew what was going to happen then and there. Your boss had won the game of the life time, her prize possession and puppet.

"Cum on mommy's cock like a good little stripper hmm? Let me take all of you," she husked out giving a particular hard thrust.

With that your juices hit her strap-on hard, flowing out of you like a river itself your mouth screaming her name while your body shivered. Hands clawing at her back now the sight was enough to send her spiralling, leaving you just enough time to recover to see the sight.

Her back arched, releasing her own as she had her eyes closed lips partially opened and skin slick with sweat and cum mixed from both of your spots.

Your eyes shut themselves sheer exhaustion taking in and all that could be heard was panting breaths in the room. It was as she leaned down you'd known how badly caught in the trap of lust you were with your own boss, her whispers filling the room.

"I've caught my own trap now, the devil got her prize. And I am far from finished with you yet, mommy's little stripper slut."

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your father’s friend just wants you to relax for once.

prompts. | Natasha Romanoff + Dad’s Best Friend + “You have no idea what you do to a woman like me.” + Creampie, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!dad’s best friend!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, coercion, age gap, dad’s best friend, Mommy kink, drinking/forced drinking, rough sex, strapping, use of squirting strap, pet names, dirty talk, mild dumbification, praise, mentions of female oral, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

Natasha’s strap-on strokes your inner walls, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot within you. She holds your arms above your head by your wrists, and you marvel at her strength. 

Your tits bounce with her powerful thrusts, pathetic moans leaving your parted lips and filling the room. Your pornographic noises drown out the sound of skin on skin, but you’re still a victim of the older woman’s filthy words.

“Look at ya—you’re a mess, baby,” Natasha coos, admiring the fucked-out look on your face. She watches as your eyes roll back into your head when she grinds her cock into you, giving your clit some friction. “You needed this badly, huh? Just needed Mommy to fuck you.”

Absentmindedly, you nod your head. 

But it’s true—you’re always so on edge and straitlaced. Natasha—your father’s friend—believed you needed a good fucking to loosen you up. Along with much alcohol, which she gladly supplied you with until you were incoherent.

“Uh-huh!” you babble, keeping your legs spread so that she can better spear into you. Your head swims under the waves of wine and arousal, desire bubbling to the surface with the euphoria that bursts in your body. She loves you like this.

Natasha chuckles at how she has basically fucked you stupid.

It didn’t take much to get you like this—writhing on the bed in the guest room she always occupies whenever she’s in town. Just some heavy petting, and you were gone—pliant under the older woman’s touch. At times, you mumbled refusals, but once she got your clothes off, you were everything she has dreamed of.

Natasha reaches a thumb down to your clit, and she rubs the swollen pearl, making you cry out. “Oh– ’M gonna come,” you mewl, staring up at her as you focus on the ascension of your climax. 

The pressure within you builds and builds, intense and breath-taking. Your moans are loud, and Natasha is glad she made sure no one would be home. She thrusts in and out of you with vigour, determined to get you to come around her dick.

“You gonna come on Mommy’s cock, baby? Hm? Gonna soak it like a good girl?” she asks, adding fuel to the fire that is your orgasm. You nod rapidly, and she smirks. “Go ahead, then. Come for Mommy,” Natasha tells you.

On her command, you come undone. Your cunt squeezes your father’s friend’s strap as you coat it in your cream. You cry out her name and dig your nails into your skin, leaving crescent-shaped scars in their wake.

The pleasure is too much—you haven’t felt anything like this before. Natasha fucks you through your climax, even when you become overstimulated and weakly beg her to give you a break. She keeps rubbing your clit until she deems you’ve had enough.

The older woman reaches down to her strap and grabs at the fake balls, ready to give you a surprise you’ll have to remember the following day. 

“Mommy’s gonna fill you up, baby,” she whispers, slowing down the movements of her hips. Your brows furrow in confusion, but in your haze, you don’t question her words too much. All you can think about is getting fucked. “Gonna dump a load in this tight cunt—fill ‘er up ‘til you’re begging me for more.”

Natasha squeezes, and you feel thick, sticky liquid spurting inside you. It coats your walls, and the odd sensation is welcomed. Just as she said, she fills you up with the ‘cum’ until it leaks past her fake cock, dripping down your ass and onto the sheets. 

“You have no idea what you do to a woman like me,” she smirks, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your lips. She is more than satisfied when she tastes herself and the wine on your mouth.

[steves-sub]

Time for Action

Dark!Team Cap (Steve, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Wanda) x innocent!female reader

Summary: The team's plan is finally going into action.

warning: Non-con drugging, hypnosis, deceiving people

A/N: I couldn't leave you hanging, so I'm back to finish the series. A lot has changed for me since I started this journey. I'm in a much better place now – happier, healthier, and pursuing my passion for special education. I also found love, which has greatly impacted my life. I may not be writing again anytime soon, but I'll always be grateful for the support of this community. These stories kept me going when things were tough, and I hope they bring you as much joy as you've brought me.

tags: @rihannabale @sideeve @apollosouls-blog @luvfromdixiedoll @chemtrails-club

The long-awaited day had finally come. After carefully applying your makeup and smoothing out your dress, you couldn't contain your excitement about spending time with Steve and his friends. To mark the occasion, you even wore a new dress - a lovely white sundress adorned with sunflowers, a charming nod to Steve's nickname.

As I heard a "ding" from my cell phone, I walked over to check it. To my surprise, it was a message from Steve saying, "Be there in 5 minutes." Despite my insistence on biking, Steve was determined to drive me. "You are a princess; you should be treated like one," he said with a smile. This level of care and consideration from a friend was something I had never experienced before.

As the sound of the car pulling up reached your ears, you gracefully descended the stairs, your luscious curls bouncing with each step. The scent of Steve's potent cologne wafted through the air as you closed the door behind you. Glancing back, you caught sight of him emerging from his car, clad in a crisp white button-down and navy pants. It seemed impossible, but your attraction to him intensified in that moment. As Steve made his way towards you, you could have sworn you heard a low growl escape him. "Wow, y/n, you truly are a sunflower. You look absolutely stunning, my darling," his words caused a rush of warmth to flood your cheeks."

“Thank you, Steve! I chose this dress specifically for this occasion. I hoped to leave a lasting impression on your friends." Steve enveloped you in a warm embrace, and as he did, you thought you felt his hand subtly moving towards your lower back, but before you could dwell on it, he gently pulled away. "Don't worry too much; I'm sure they will adore you, just like I do," he assured you with a playful touch on your nose, causing you to let out a spontaneous giggle. Steve gracefully circled around you and gallantly opened the door of his sleek black car, a vehicle worth more than your annual salary. "Step in, my princess. Your carriage awaits," he declared as he entered the vehicle himself and closed the door behind you.

As he settled into the driver's seat, he reached behind him and retrieved a water bottle. "The drive might take a while, so I brought you a water bottle," he said with a warm smile. You accepted the bottle, returning his smile, and twisted off the cap. The water had an unusual taste, but you didn't want to cause any inconvenience. Keeping your thoughts to yourself, you continued on your journey.

After half an hour of casual conversation with Steve, he steered onto a narrow dirt road. "It's just a short drive down this road, and then we'll be there," he reassured, gently taking your hand. "Don't worry, sunflower. I promise they will adore you," he repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time. Throughout the journey, Steve did his best to ease your nerves, chatting with you and offering you sips of that peculiar water. While you did start to feel more at ease, the anticipation still made you jittery. Finally, he pulled up to an exquisite house. "Wow," you marveled as you gazed out the window, "you guys live here?" You had little knowledge about Steve and never would have guessed that he was well-off. "Yeah," he chuckled, "my friends and I have been renovating this house for a while. It's our retirement plan." 

I turned to look at Steve, my face twisted in confusion. "Retirement plan? You're not even 40!" Steve chuckled once again at my comment. "Well, we all needed a break, so we decided to come up here for a bit," he spoke as he expertly parked the car in the circle driveway. "Are you ready?" he asked, extending his hand towards me. I took his hand in mine and squeezed it, replying, "Ready." He smiled back at me as he exited the car to open the door for me.

As the two of you approached the door, Steve reached out and turned the handle, allowing the door to swing open. "Hey guys, we're here!" he called out, his voice echoing through the seemingly empty house. Suddenly, the distinct sound of clicking heels filled the air, and a young redhead in a vibrant red coat appeared before you. "Oh my gosh, you're here!" she exclaimed, enveloping you in a warm, enthusiastic hug. "Steve has not stopped talking about you. You’re Y/n, right? I'm Wanda," she said with a smile. "It's so nice to meet you too! I wish I could say the same about you," you teased, playfully nudging Steve's arm. "Oh, that's just Steve. He's a pretty reserved person. Come in, come in, everyone’s in the kitchen," Wanda said, taking the lead as she ushered you inside. Following her lead, you kicked off your sandals and made your way into the inviting warmth of the kitchen. "See, not so bad," Steve remarked quietly. "Yeah, Wanda seems super nice," you agreed. "And we're only just getting started," Steve added, gently holding your hand as you both stepped into the bustling kitchen. 

The two of us walked into the kitchen and spotted the rest of the group. A striking redhead in a sleek black dress perched on the counter, enjoying a glass of wine. A confident black man was busy setting up the table, while another man with a metallic arm was hard at work in the kitchen. Wanda caught their attention and introduced me with a warm smile, prompting the others to follow suit. The redhead, Natasha, strolled over to me and greeted me affectionately. "I'm Natasha. Your dress is stunning; I can see why Steve calls you sunflower," she remarked with a smirk, casting a glance at Steve as she embraced me. "Thank you, yours is gorgeous as well," I replied.

The man who was setting the table made his way over to us. "So, this is the famous Y/N Steve can't stop talking about? I can see why," he said with a warm smile as he confidently walked over. "Sam Wilson, nice to meet you," he said as he extended his hand. I couldn't help but giggle as I looked at his hand. "Thank you; you are all super kind to me," I replied with a smile. "Well, Steve said you were a special friend, so you deserve to feel special," the last man said as he extended his hand for a handshake. "Bucky Barnes, we are so happy you are here," he said warmly. I couldn't help but feel grateful for the kindness of these people and how lucky Steve must be to have such thoughtful friends. "Told you they would love you, sunflower," Steve said as he brought me in for a side hug.

As I made my way towards the counter where Natasha was, Bucky informed me that dinner would be ready in a few minutes. He listed the menu as salad, pasta, chicken, brussels sprouts, and homemade mini cakes courtesy of Wanda. Natasha then offered me a glass of wine. I accepted and requested a Pinot Grigio, and as she went to the fridge, she discreetly took a small vial of clear liquid from the refrigerator before leaving the kitchen with Steve following her.

Once they reached the wine cellar, Natasha's eyes sparkled with excitement as she deftly grabbed the bottle she sought. "Everything ready?" Steve inquired, wrapping his arms around her waist. Their relationship had evolved into one of friends with benefits since they had been on the run, but now they no longer needed to rely on such arrangements. "As long as she drank the water you gave her, then we will be set," Natasha confirmed, setting the wine glass on the counter and retrieving the vial. "She doesn't feel anything right now; she's just relaxed. This, however, will make her more open to our suggestions and make her easier to seduce. We will have her in our hands in no time." Natasha finished pouring the wine and closed the bottle with a sense of determination. "I wanted to have her right then and there when I saw her in that sundress. She has no idea what she is doing to me," Steve confessed. "Soon, Steve, soon," Natasha called out to Steve as she returned to the party, him following closely behind.

Natasha and Steve glided into the room, Natasha holding a delicate glass of wine. "Here you go, angel," Natasha said as she gracefully handed the glass to the recipient. "Perfect timing, the food is ready," Bucky exclaimed. "Do you need help with anything?" you kindly asked the cooks. "Nonsense, you are our guest. Go have a seat; we will be over shortly," Wanda said as she expertly opened the oven. The rest of the group approached the table, which Sam meticulously set. You found yourself seated between Steve and Natasha, with Sam, Bucky, and Wanda on the other side.

Steve rose from his chair with a beer in hand as the delicious food was placed on the table, and everyone took their seats. "I would like to propose a toast to Y/N," he announced, causing a flutter in your stomach as everyone smiled at you. "Thank you for gracing us with your presence tonight. I feel that this evening will be etched in our memories forever. Cheers!" he exclaimed, raising his glass as everyone followed suit. It was clear that tonight was going to be truly extraordinary.  

After an hour had passed, not a morsel of food remained, and the plates sparkled clean. It had been quite some time since you felt so carefree and relaxed, and the feeling was beautiful. As Wanda and Bucky shared a hilarious story, you found yourself laughing along with them while the others tidied up after dinner. Natasha approached you with another glass of wine, but you declined, explaining to her with a tinge of sadness that you and Steve would have to leave soon. The evening had been so enjoyable that you wished it wouldn't end. "Don't worry, sweetie. You're more than welcome to spend the night if you'd like," Steve called out from the kitchen. "But I don't have anything with me for an overnight stay," you quickly pointed out.

"We have a spare bedroom, and you can borrow some sweats. Seriously, don't sweat about it," Wanda said with a warm smile. "Are you sure about that?" you questioned Wanda, feeling grateful for her hospitality. "We are positive," Natasha responded reassuringly as she once again handed the glass to you, her eyes reflecting genuine concern. "Okay, okay. But this is the last glass; I'm starting to feel the effects of drinking," you commented, letting out a light-hearted laugh. Unbeknownst to you, the group exchanged knowing glances, anticipation for their plan evident in their eyes. 

As Steve suggested heading to the living room to wrap up the evening, he approached you and gently massaged your shoulders. You yawned, feeling the wine's effects, and quickly apologized for your drowsiness. "Sorry, I just got sleepy. This wine might be stronger than I thought," you chuckled. As you stood up and headed to the living room, you noticed your vision becoming blurry, causing you to lose your balance.

"Are you feeling okay, honey?" Bucky asked, his concerned gaze fixed on you. "I just feel a bit dizzy. Do you mind if I go to bed early?" you inquired, steadying yourself against the back of the couch. "Why don't you lie down next to me? It might help," suggested Steve as he came over to you. You hoped that his suggestion would bring some relief as Steve gently guided you to the plush couch. He positioned you in the center, and everyone respectfully kept their distance, allowing you some space.

You heard a gentle buzzing sound beginning and looked around to locate its source. "What's that noise?" you asked as you attempted to sit up, but the throbbing in your head persisted. "Oh, it's just some soft music. It's meant to help you relax," Wanda reassured you as you felt Steve gently guide your head back onto his shoulder where it had been resting. In front of you, the TV displayed a captivating screen saver. It consisted of black and white squares merging into each other. Strangely, it was pretty soothing and difficult to look away from.

As you commented on the intriguing screen, you noticed your speech slowing down unintentionally. In response, Sam softly remarked, "Yeah, I know. It came with the TV. We tried to change it but couldn't figure it out." Unbeknownst to you, Wanda had silently approached from behind. Her hand emitted a crimson magical energy that flowed into your head, inducing a sudden and profound relaxation.

"It's not too bad; it can be quite relaxing to look at. Don't you think it's relaxing?" Wanda asked, her words echoing in your mind whenever she mentioned "relaxing." "Relaxing?" you mumbled sleepily. "Yes, darling, relaxing," Steve whispered into your ear as he gently brushed some hair away from your face, ensuring your gaze remained fixed on the screen before you. Despite your efforts to look away, it was difficult to resist.

As your eyelids grew heavier, it became increasingly difficult to keep them open. "Are you getting sleepy over there, my lovely sunflower?" Steve softly chuckled. You attempted to shake your head, but the effort was futile. "It's okay to relax and sleep, darling. Just close your eyes and let go," Bucky's voice whispered. "I don't want to," you replied in the faintest of whispers.

Natasha's soothing voice filled the room as she said, "Why not? It's okay to relax and sleep. To close those heavy eyes and sleep." Her gentle hand massaged my shoulders, lulling me into an even deeper state of relaxation. "Sleep?" I questioned. Steve let out a chuckle and reassured me, "That's right, honey, just sleep for me. I'll keep you safe. Just close those heavy, heavy eyes and sleep for me." Each word from Steve felt like a gentle command, and I found myself unable to resist as I followed his instructions, succumbing to the irresistible urge to close my heavy eyelids.

[lokiswifeduh]

Don't leave me

Pairings- Mob!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary- The aftermath of the shootout was here. And Bucky has to come to terms with the results of the life he introduced you to, and what revenge he would ensue.

notes- this is a part two to Doll, please. I hope you guys enjoy the ending!! Please let me know your thoughts!! Thank you for reading loves!!

Warnings- angst, talk of guns, drugs, kidnapping, abuse, torture. major gore. sad Bucky, hurt reader, hurt/comfort, gunshot wounds, medical talk, revenge.

WC- 3k

catch up here (part one)

masterlist

"Doll, please."

I saw her look up at me with those doe eyes. Those big beautiful eyes painfully gazing into mine. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to turn her away from the bullets that were sure to fly our way, but I couldn't move my hands. In this moment I couldn't protect her.

I felt the sob rip from her throat. There were only ten seconds left.

"I vowed to stand by your side, Buck." She looked back to the ten guns pointed in mine and her direction. I could see a stray tear slip down her cheek as her hands shook, her nails digging into her palm as she tried her hardest to release my wrists from the painful wire digging into them.

Suddenly she dropped the knife, jumping into my lap. Her hands wrapped around my neck as her legs surrounded the back of the chair, encasing my upper body. "NO! Doll, please!!" I felt her hit the knife in my thigh with hers, but I ignored the pain focusing on what in the world she thought she was doing.

The men cocked their guns. But in that moment all I could think about was how to get her off of me. I needed her to run, to fight back to do something. Not to protect my body with hers. I couldn't let her.

"Doll!! Stop!! Get up!!" But my protests fell on deaf ears as she tucked my head into her chest, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck, not letting me move a muscle below her. She shook her head, my tears soaking her shirt, mixing with mine and her blood. "I won't let you die." She attempted to shout but at that moment her voice was the quietest I'd ever heard it.

I tried to whisper back when suddenly shots rang out through the warehouse. My head popped up, prepared to die with the love of my life. I wouldn't let her do it herself. I would not live without her. Not if I had a choice.

But in that split second, I realized the first bullets that went flying weren't from Rumlow's men, it was from Steve, Sam, and my men, shooting at the ones who threatened us.

"Doll, we're gonna be oka-" But my words were cut short as two bullets flew into her. She screamed. Her vocal cords grinding together in the most painful way I'd ever heard. I felt my heart rip in two as her body shook against mine, arching her back as if that would stop the pain.

But she kept her head down, arms shaking yet still holding onto me. I would have cut my hands off if I had the strength to rip through the restraints. A sob tore from my throat, "Don't do this to me."

She finally lifted her head, my beautiful wife looking at me with such care and tenderness. As if she hadn't just been shot twice, and wasn't using all of her strength to hold onto me for dear life.

A small drop of blood trickled down the side of her mouth as her teeth were painted red. "I love you, James Barnes." She cupped my face in her hands, tucking me back into her chest as her grip seemed to loosen, "Till forever and always."

The words we both said to each other on our wedding day. "Doll, please." Her hold on me finally failed as she fell, but thankfully into the arms of Steve, before her head would've slammed into the concrete.

My second in command looked at both of us. Tortured and bloody. I held in my tears as I looked at Sam, leading a pair of medics through the door.

"Rumlow will pay." The wire from my wrists was snapped in half thanks to Peter, a new, very terrified recruit. I shot down immediately onto my knees, holding her head in my hands as the paramedics loaded my wife onto the stretcher. "Don't leave me."

I made eye contact with Steve, "I will have him and that traitor's head."

_________________

You lay in the hospital bed, your whole body practically wrapped in soft white bandages.

You could feel the pressure of something on your thigh as you tried to open your eyes. It wasn't working. Why couldn't you just open them?!

Try something else, you thought.

You moved your hands, the feeling of someone else's palm in yours made your heart start to race. You could remember little parts over the last three days.

Bucky was kidnapped.

Steve was put in charge.

You were kidnapped.

Natasha was working with Rumlow.

The torture.

The pain.

Your husband's face as you used yourself as a human shield.

Being shot.

Suddenly you heard screaming and saw bright lights. A heart monitor was beeping louder and faster at each passing second.

Realizing the screaming was in fact your own, you started to breathe harder. You finally could open your eyes!

Your surroundings were blurry at first. There was a familiar figure in front of you. Sounds were muffled but began to come back into focus.

"Doll?! Sweetheart, you're okay."

You shook your head, looking around in panic before realizing you were in fact back at home, in your bed. Bucky beside you. Your husband, holding your face in his hands.

"B-Bucky?" Your voice was raspy and your throat felt like sandpaper, rubbing together from underuse.

Involuntarily you started to cough, holding a hand up to your throat which only caused more pain in your back to bloom. "Ah," You groaned, swallowing before resting your head back on the pillow.

You felt Bucky's hands leave your body, but only for a second as he held a straw to your lips. "It's just water doll. I need you to drink this for me." You nodded, feeling a pounding in your head as you sucked down the refreshing liquid. The coolness soothing your throat like rain in the desert.

"Good girl." Bucky gave you a soft smile, taking the straw away from your mouth as you finished the water.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you regained your vision, looking around.

Monitors, medical equipment, and an abundance of flowers and cards filled your and Bucky's bedroom. Light shone through the window as you squinted, shooting over to look at Bucky who just gazed down at you worryingly.

You looked him over, seeing the cuts and bruises that adorned his face. His lip was split in multiple places. His thigh was wrapped in gauze and his wrists were bandaged. Looking down, so were yours. Actually, it seemed your entire body was.

"Are yo-," You swallowed, "Are you okay?"

Bucky took a moment before letting out a laugh. "You're asking me if I'm okay, doll?" You nodded, confused.

"Sweetheart you're the one who's been unconscious for three weeks and has two bullet wounds."

You twisted your hips a little, feeling the agonizing, shooting pain of the very real bullet wounds. Groaning, you whispered, "So that definitely happened, good to know."

Bucky ran his hand down the side of your face, sitting in the chair that was placed beside your shared bed. "I'm the one who's supposed to protect you, doll." You gulped, "I- I couldn't let you die, James."

Bucky closed his eyes, laying his head down on your thigh as he gripped your hand in his. "I would've rather die than see you in this state, sweetheart."

You lifted your other hand, running it through his untamed hair. "Don't say that, Buck." But his head lifted, making you notice his bloodshot eyes and the way tears streamed down his face in harsh lines. "I won't live without you, doll." He shook his head, a tear dripping onto the hospital blanket "I would rather die a thousand times over and over in the same painful way than see you in such agony, my love."

You held back tears, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breath. "I couldn't- no. I wouldn't let you die like that, Buck." You looked at him once again, "Not at the hands of Rumlow. Not because of me." "This wasn't because of you, doll-" "But it was!" You shouted, making you cough slightly, not used to using your voice for this long yet. "Rumlow took you because he wanted to hurt us- because he wanted me." You cupped Bucky's jaw in your hand, "Because I chose you." Bucky gulped, "I've never been so scared." You softly laughed, thinking of all the shootouts, drug deals, and interrogations Bucky went through on a day-to-day basis.

But he shook his head, hearing your chuckle. "Seeing him hurt you and torture you the way he did." Bucky's eyes went dark, "I've never wanted to hurt someone so bad just to ensure you made it out of there safely." You tried to speak up but Bucky kept going. "And look at you now. You're laying here, with two gunshot wounds, fingernails ripped apart, and a busted-up face."

Tilting your head, you looked at the mirror that stood in front of your and Bucky's bed; genuinely taking in your appearance. You in fact did have a busted-in face. Your lip was split. Your eyebrow was stitched as well as your nose. You had bruises covering every inch of your skin and your hair was in the worst shape you had ever seen.

Gulping, you looked away from the mirror, making Bucky take your chin in his hands, guiding you to look him in the eyes. "But you're still the prettiest doll I've ever seen." He moved, bringing his lips to yours in a soft yet long-awaited kiss. "My best girl."

It hurt to smile but you did, bringing your hand to his face, gently rubbing over the matching bruises that mirrored yours. "I love you, James."

"I love you, doll."

________________________

The next few days were agonizing.

You could finally stand up on the third day. But not without terrible pain shooting in every nerve ending of your body.

Bucky helped you with everything. From showering to cleaning your wounds. He was quite the nurse when it came to you.

But unfortunately about a week after you woke up, the violence hadn't ended. There were still some loose ends to tie up.

Slowly walking down the stairs and into one of the main rooms, everyone's attention went to your hobbling frame. "Doll?" Bucky sped over, Steve immediately pulling up a chair so you could take a seat.

As you sat down you noticed a large bruise on Steve's jaw. You knew Bucky would eventually be mad at him for not properly making sure you stayed out of the mess and violence of it all. But you were hoping it would've been a stern lecture, not a punch.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bucky whispered. The room stayed completely silent as Steve, Sam, and the rest of Bucky's men kept their backs turned, giving you two some privacy.

"I know you're planning to retaliate against, Rumlow."

Bucky nodded, taking your face in his hands as you fidgeted with the string of your sweatpants. Well, Bucky's sweatpants.

"I don't want you involved again, doll." He glanced back at Steve for a moment, "Not after what happened."

You shook your head, "I need him to pay for this, Buck." Your body shook with anger, "I want his fucking blood." Bucky was slightly startled, never seeing this much hatred in your eyes. You were always his sweet wife. You made the men cookies, and you organized charity events for the homeless shelter down the street.

Sure, you knew how to use a gun and fight if you had to. But seeing this much agonizing resentment on your face, scared him. But he knew you wouldn't let it go. He sure as hell wasn't.

So he let you know the plan, and what was going down.

______________

"Steve? We good?" Bucky touched the earpiece, hearing an affirmative. The mob had infiltrated Rumlow's mansion only one week later, killing every single man who stood in their way. Shoot on site. Was your husband's order as you and he waited to enter the mansion, making sure only Rumlow and Natasha were left.

Two of Bucky's men opened the doors to the mansion. The sight of the place made you cringe slightly. Soldiers were dead on the ground everywhere. Blood painted the floors and staircases like a stain.

"Top floor, back left bedroom."

You heard Steve's voice echo through the earpiece as you and Bucky made your way up.

His hand never left the small of your back, making sure you were covered at all angles with men following behind and in front of you, rifles pinned for every aspect of an attack.

"You alright, doll?" Bucky whispered, his hand on the door that would lead you to Rumlow. You nodded, ignoring the dull pain in your back. "I need this to be over with." Your husband kissed the crown of your head, nodding to his men as they busted down the door, guns held high.

But the sight in front of you made you smile.

Rumlow was beaten down, cowering in the corner of the room as Natasha stood in the corner, you could see the fear in her eyes. The same fear she caused you as she ripped your fingernails to pieces.

"Brock Rumlow," Bucky spoke in a deep voice, pulling on a pair of black gloves, before handing you a matching pair.

You slipped them on, hand placed on the knife that was strapped onto your thigh, just above the black jeans you had on.

Steve and Sam patted Bucky on the back, looking toward you with respect. "Have fun, you two." The blonde spoke, before exiting and closing the doors behind them.

"P-please, Barnes." Rumlow pleaded, "Have mercy."

Bucky was about to laugh before Natasha beat him to it. "Oh, please. You two really think he was the mastermind behind all this?" You looked over at the redhead in the corner, your former friend.

"If he's not, does that mean you are?" Your voice carried through the room, a newfound confidence making you raise your head high.

Natasha grinned, "And here I thought you never would've survived." You tilted your head, "Two bullet shots and I'm walking four weeks later." You pulled the gun from your other holster, "I can't say the same for you after this." You pointed it right at her forehead.

"Come here," Bucky moved forward, knowing you had Natasha pinned with the intent to shoot; dragging Rumlow up as two of his men held him on his knees.

"Nat, please. Do something." Rumlow begged, making you let out a laugh under your breath. "Do you think she's really in the position to?" You saw her move forward slightly, making you cock your gun, "One more step and I blow your fucking brains all over these white sheets."

Bucky grinned, loving this color on you.

"You really thought you could take my girl from me?" Your husband kneels in front of Brock, pulling out a knife from his belt. "What did you call her after breaking her nose? Oh, that's right, a 'lovely specimen."

Bucky's smirk dropped, nodding at the two men holding Brock down as they forced his mouth open. Brock shouted and yelled as Bucky gripped the end of his tongue, pulling it from his mouth and slicing it clean off from the base with his knife.

Brock wailed and cried as another soldier brought over a jar filled with a yellow liquid, opening the top so Bucky could drop the tongue in. He closed the lid, holding it up high as he watched Brock's mouth fill with blood. "What a lovely specimen."

"You two are fucking sick." Natasha, sneered, making you grip the knife from your own holster, throwing it and landing it right in her hand that was held in the air. She screamed, falling to the ground and back up until her back hit the wall.

You kneeled down, gun still pointed in her face, "Talk again and next time your tongue will join his in the jar." Your former friend gulped, nodding as you smirked.

Bucky gripped the front of Brock's shirt, making his back touch Bucky's chest as he held a knife to his throat. "Anything you wanna say before I kill you in front of your girlfriend, Rumlow?"

You laughed, slightly, making Bucky huff in humor. "Oh, that's right. You can't" He whispered the last part before slicing a clean and deep cut across his neck, blood pouring out as he collapsed to the ground, whimpering and sputtering in pain as he bled out, his eyes on you in fear as he eventually stopped moving.

Natasha looked back at you, still clutching her bleeding hand into her chest. You kneeled down, "Why, Natasha?" She shook with terror, hardly being able to force the words out. "Why did he have to pick you?!"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What?" Natasha scoffed, looking over at your husband, then back to you.

"Before you came along I thought he could love me. But then you showed up, taking all Bucky's attention. I never stood a fucking chance." You laughed, sighing before standing and walking over to Bucky, placing a hand on the back of his head before smashing your lips against his in a heated kiss. He groaned, biting your lip and making you moan into his mouth.

You chuckled, still holding the back of his head in your hand. You lifted your arm, perfect aim.

"No, Natasha. You never stood a fucking chance." One, two, then three shots rang out through the room as you planted two bullets in Natasha's head, and one in the chest.

Dropping the gun, you saw her body slump to the ground. Dead.

Bucky turned you away from the scene, bringing your face into his hands as both of you had unshed tears in your eyes. "It's over, doll."

You nodded, holding onto his hands as they held your face. "Can we go home, Buck?" He nodded, bringing your face into his chest as he walked you back through the house and into the car. "We're going home, doll. I'm never leaving you."

End

__________________

part one (read first)

masterlist

Taglist:

@yeahyeahyeah23-blog @rinniereads123 @shortnloud @julvrs @unaxv @sapphirebarnes

[ahhhwomen]

The calm before the storm.

Vampire Empire

Part 7.1

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Well... here it is. I changed the graphic parts, but it's still violent. This was supposed to be a hurt/comfort chapter, but it just turned into hurt, so I divided the chapter into two, this is the hurt part... and I will try my very best to make the next one a comfort... Writer block hit me like a truck with this one so please excuse bad writing...

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death  Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 3k

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Extreme violence, slightly explicit violence, talk of torture, scars, violence against a child

Taglist

(26 hours before the slaughter)

“Come on pretty girl, I know you can do it, keep your head above the water baby.” Gentle hands try to coax you, pushing against the back of your neck in an attempt to force your muscles into action.

It’s strange, the only other times you have been in the bath is when they were drowning you, perhaps you enjoy this more. It’s hard to tell, you can’t feel much of anything anymore.

Her grip loosens for a moment and your head lolls to the side, foamy bubbles collide with your left ear, the earlobe barely having made contact with the hot water before soft hands return with full force to catch you.

“Hmph.” A frustrated sigh gets drowned out by the insistent buzzing inside your mind. The sound consumes you from the inside, eating away any emotion that slipped past the initial reaping.

A creak slices through the still air as Natasha grits her teeth together, white bone clumsily gliding against itself, barely missing the inside of her cheek. She has been hunched over for the better part of half an hour, but she can do nothing but uncomfortably shift the pressure from one knee to the other, her hands occupied with you.

Wanda had insisted they set you into a routine. So, every night Natasha was tasked with bathing you, though you weren’t making it easy for her.

As her rolled-up sleeve dips into the water for the fourth time while she adjusts, Natasha debates yet again if she should call on Wanda for help, but as her eyes drift over your empty ones, she thinks better of it.

Guilt eats her alive as she works on finishing up your bath and tucking you in.

Three days ago (96 hours before the slaughter):

A wet washcloth is continuously dragged across your forehead as Wanda wipes the sweat away, her fingers follow the path of the moist trail as she feels your temperature and sighs in relief.

After two intense nights, your fever finally broke, but you had yet to wake up. She is just about to tuck you back in when her wife’s voice rings through the spacious room.

“How is she doing?”

Natasha leans against the doorframe while she watches her wife care for you. The wood digs into her shoulder blade, but she ignores it in favor of keeping her distance. As much as the younger redhead craved to be near you, she was cautious to interact with you when Wanda was there.

After the fever gave them quite a scare the day before, Natasha came just as close to losing her life as you. Wanda had fallen asleep with you clutched in her grip after an hour of settling your shaking frame from a nightmare. After a while, Natasha attempted to remove you from Wanda’s possession.

She was merely concerned about Wanda’s heated body irritating your flushed skin, but after almost losing an eye to a sleep-deprived redhead, she left the primal care to her other half.

Wanda hums, her fingers stroking your hair delicately as she kneels beside the plush guestroom bed. As she rakes through them, your hair strands lay clumped together, loosening them strand by strand she soothes herself.

“She needs a bath,” her fingers move from your hair to your face, gently tracing your features. When the pad of her pointer hits a sensitive spot beneath your jaw, you let out a breathy giggle in your sleep, and Wanda can’t help the lift of her lips into a pleased grin.

However, her smile is quickly wiped away as a familiar jingle of metal rattles against your throat as you shift in your slumber.

Natasha hummed her agreement, unaware of her wife’s fleeting attention.

The layers of filth that covered you had to be weeks, if not months, in the making. She was aware that you got a weekly hose down by the shelter, but depending on when Carol loaned you out, you could very easily have missed it.

“Should I get one started?”

With a huff, Wanda nods slowly. Her irritation radiates off of her as she looks you over.

Natasha tilts her head, at her wife’s strange reaction, her shirt gliding against her cheek. “Is there an issue?”

The older redhead looks down for a moment. The sheer uncomfortableness that settles within her very bones is not without reason. Her skin is cold with prickles and goosebumps. Perhaps it’s a ridiculous reaction, but the significance of what she is about to do is crucial to you, she knows that.

However, as the filth and stench of a certain blondie coats itself around the stark leather surrounding your neck, she knows it needs to be done.

She needs to remove your collar.

“Her collar. It needs to be removed.” The words are sneered, almost growled, as Wanda wills the uncertain into existence.

Natasha stiffens, her clothes which were perfectly fine a moment ago now feel disgusting against her soft skin, every stitch piecing it all together feel wrong and patchy.

A collar is a safety net in the power dynamic between a vampire and a pet. It’s always been a part of vampire tradition that the collar is a reminder of good faith. Removing the collar, without the owner’s specific request, means punishment.

If you wake up without your collar, you will never forgive them.

“I will do it.” With her head hung low, Natasha closes the distance between herself and you, crouching down beside her wife. Her knees creak as she sinks into position, her hands reaching toward you.

The sorrow that builds and sinks within her is laughable. They barley know you, and you definitely don’t know them, yet the pull between yourself and them is undeniable. In a lifetime of grief, Natasha was hoping it could symbolize a new beginning, a lifeline of sorts.

Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be.

Just as her fingers struggle against the metal clasp, smaller, softer hands glide over her own and hold them gently.

“No.” The clan leader sighs out calmly.  

Natasha furrows her brows in confusion.

“But-“

“No. I need to do this.” With a sad smile, Wanda removes her wife’s hands and holds them to her lips, “She likes you.” It was the simplified truth.

To be frank, Wanda scares you, she can tell by the way you never find peace around her, even while you are asleep. You wouldn’t trust either of them when you wake, but at the very least she could lessen the burden that will lay on her wife’s shoulders.

With her tail tucked between her legs, the younger girl nods silently and raises herself into a standing position. The loose thread beside her zipper takes over all of Natasha’s attention, she refuses to watch.

Wanda removes your collar in an almost medical procedure, leaning slightly over your tiny frame surrounded by plush pillows and warm blankets, she finds the point of no return and she places her fingers lightly against your skin as her fingers work on opening the clasp.

She knows immediately.

As soon as the back of her ring finger touches your neck.

She knows she will beat Carol Danvers until she is unrecognizable.

“Oh.”

The leather feels rough and scratchy as she clutches it in her grip while looking you over.

“So that’s why she is leased,” Wanda mumbles in a monotone voice.

That finally catches Natasha’s attention again. With a curious glance over Wanda’s shoulder, Natasha falls void of any emotion but one. Pure, unfiltered, hatred.

Back in the day, rouge vampires had a specific way of marking their property.

They called it The Noose of Misery. A name bound in irony, a mockery, as they scarcely felt sorry for this sort of thing.

It was deemed a form of entertainment.

The noose of misery; was to slit your victim’s throat repeatedly, leaving gruesome slashes through thin skin. The first slice was always the same, they would cut the vocal cords. It wasn’t precise, nor pretty, it was merely a rouge slash against vulnerable anatomy.

Due to this, they would often miss their target.

Which would prompt them to hold down their victims until they were satisfied, it wasn’t hard to tell when they succeeded as their victims would fall silent. Or a form of silence as they attempt to refrain from drowning in their own bodily fluids.

The vampires found it most entertaining when their prey ran around like headless chickens, choking and gurgling on their blood, trying their best to scream for help.

Despite the intensity of this game, their food would rarely pass away from it.

A vampire’s blood has a certain healing ability, and contrary to popular belief, drinking the blood of a vampire does not turn you into one. Only a clan leader could sire a new vamp.

So, the youngsters would often find new and innovative ways to watch their victim suffer, and only when the life seeped out of their eyes like the blood did their body, then and only then would the vampires slash their wrists and force it down their preys partially slit throats.

However, even with its healing ability, the blood of a vampire is considered poison. The pain that would sear through you after consumption has often been compared to being burned alive.

That never stopped them.

The ritual would be repeated until the owner was satisfied. Then the last round of slashes would be healed with a singular drop of blood, enough to keep them hanging on by a thread, but no more than that.

When the nasty gashes healed to raised scars, it would be proof of ownership.

In 1898, The Noose of Misery was banned across all clans.

Wanda Maximoff made sure of it.

Yet, there were always those select few that never listened.

Given the scarring, you couldn’t have been older than nine.

Nine?

Nine…

Nine.

There is an audible *click* as two sets of sharpened canines force themselves present as the two redheads look down at the horror.

There was a difference with yours; the first slash was precise and professional, cut right through the vocal cords. It was a given who ordered it to be done, but it was clear she was not the one to do it.

Or rather, she was not the one to do the first slice.

That also explained why you were a less permanent commitment to the shelter. It must have taken place during the trial.

There is a trial period when it comes to buying pets. Some test them for a week, others for a year, it all depends on the customer and how much money they are willing to pay. If they deem the pet unfit, they can return them for half price.

However, shelters and kennels alike have a strict policy against marking their brand. If the pet is marked before being sold, the responsible party is banned from buying said pet, and they have to pay a heavy compensation.

That whore must have paid half a fortune to make up for what she did to you.

Leased pets are damaged goods.

They will never be bought.

Anger crawls like ants within the older redhead.

“And so, the war begins.”

Her expression is blank as she speaks clearly. The anger within her digs in deeper until it mends with her very being. She means every word of it.

Just as the last syllable was worded out, Wanda looked down to see your scared eyes staring right back at her.

There is no telling how long you have been awake while Wanda was preoccupied with staring down at the scars, willing them to dissipate before her very eyes.

With a sigh, Wanda pats your head one last time before you cower away from her touch.

It hurt, but she knew what would happen once your only line of defense was taken away from you. The redhead stares down at the collar held firmly within her hands. She wished she was stronger, that she could return it to you and pretend as if she never knew.

But as you both glue your eyes to leather almost as old as you, the ants turn into giants, a soundly crack can be heard as the dirty material is ripped into pieces right before you.

And with it, you too fall into a disarray of pieces that will never fit back together.

That collar was all you had.

It was all you were.

Without it…

You are nothing.

Nothing but hers.

“Romanoff.” A chill runs down Natasha’s spine at the tone of her wife’s calling.

“Contact the Thor clan and inform them that they have 96 hours to give over Carol Danvers or I will kill them all.”

The command was said so bluntly Natasha could hardly believe her ears. But as she looks over to Wanda’s hunched frame, her nose snarled and her eyes a dangerous glowing red, she breaks out of her trance and excuses herself.

She can comfort you later, but there won’t be a later if she does not obey her wife.

Current time (24 hours before the slaughter):

Wanda has woken up screaming in terror many times in her lifetime. It’s not easy to live as long as she has, to see what she has seen. The same horror burdens Natasha.

So, the older redhead has lost count of the timeless times her slowly beating heart has broken at the sight of her wife crying and screaming in her sleep.

There was nothing more painful.

Or so she thought.

What she could never imagine was how it would make her feel to watch someone attempt to sob their long overdue sorrows, only for them to flail and choke against their own vocal cords silently. Nothing but weak gasps and hoars coughs, the sound itself making her wince in pity.

Breathing through her nose slowly, Wanda has to close her eyes to collect herself before turning toward her wife, who carries an expression not far from her own. With her lip peeled back and her eyes narrowed, Natasha cringes at the sound of your tiny frame fighting the bedsheets.

As her eyes glue themselves to the nanny cam, she set up on their bedside table, Wanda thinks of what limb to start with.

Carol seems awfully attached to those claws of hers…

She is quickly brought back to the present time when a loud gasp emits from the speakers, followed by a heavy thud as you fall off the king-sized bed.

Wanda is on her feet and halfway down the hallway before Natasha can get a word out.

You saw more of the ceiling that night than you did the floor.

Your hands swipe against empty air. The sounds around you are like a cold hollow inside an unexplored cave. Nothing but echoes of lies surround you as you desperately try to grasp the situation in a literal sense. Like a zombie, you growl and groan as your hands seek the source of your misery.

You can’t see her. With your neck split in half, you would have to use both hands to hold your head up.

However, it doesn’t hurt.

Not yet.

So, you fight.

You are far shorter than them, Master is almost double your height, and the other lady isn’t much shorter. If you could just get closer, your hardened hands may be able to grasp them and beg for forgiveness. You can’t really talk though…

The side of your vision darkens as the blood gushes and pools beneath your feet. You can’t see it, but you feel it, it’s like ice pouring down your body.

Streams like rivers, split and thicken into canals, as they cascade down your stomach and glide down your thighs.

Like a switch-

A sneaking wave hits you, suddenly the adrenaline is gone, and the crash is horrendous.

Your knees crash into the floor, your body following behind shortly. The weight of your own body fights against you as you attempt to push yourself upward. With your hands grasping and slipping against amber liquid, your elbows give out under the pressure, and you fall into a heap.

Cracks of a weak child’s bones bounce off the wall as you lay defeated.

Soon, your mind and body become self-aware of your soon-to-be decapitated head, and you can do nothing but gasp and flop like a fish out of water.

It’s really scary.

The small hands of a nine-year-old child claw and paw at the cold floor as two adult women watch for the fourth time that night as a young pet watches Death seek her out.

They break your jaw open, then a wrist is forced into your mouth.

You are scared.

The blood hurts.

It hurts a lot.

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Aga-“

*GASP*

On the other side of town (96 hours before the slaughter):

Carol learned at a very young age that vampires like Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff think they are invisible. And they were, not a single creature, human, vampire, or otherwise, ever came close to breaking them.

Weren’t you just full of surprises.

A puff of smoke surrounds the blond woman as she leans against the truck. With one leg crossed over the other, her pants rustle against each other as she swishes lightly to one side.

Men and women alike continue to shout and argue in the back as they finish loading up their gear.

Just as she flicks the cigarette to the ground and her boot crunches it against the pavement, her phone chimes.

BabyBoss:

You have 96 hours to give yourself over to the Maximoff clan or I will personally slaughter your entire hometown. Including your fucking childhood dog.

Read 2:13 am

Rolling her eyes, a chuckle builds up within her.

God, you really are full of surprises.

“You ready boss?” A gruff man in his late thirties asks her as she walks over to the back of the truck.

Throwing in her own bag she nods. “Lead the way.”

21 hours. 54 near deaths. 198 slashes. 32 scars.

Nine years old.

(This chapter really wasn't written well, I'm sorry.)

Taglist:

@thinking1bee, @tobiaslut, @esmeseasle, @skittlebum, @tia-thesimp, @maximilfsworld, @leenasayeed, @scarlethexelove, @itsalwaysskorpioszn, @observeowl, @tekanparadiae, @adelareys, @anqyuicka, @ichala, @thalia-is-not-ok, @lovelyy-moonlight, @wandamaximoff-simp, @opossumking03, @confidant-thoughts, @delivery-bird, @esouliie, @geydumbbetch, @dorabledewdroop, @mousetheorist, @herwagonempathkid, @mommysfavouritegirl, @auroraromaximoff, @roman0ffsheart, @morganna-la-faye, @kaosrsing, @marvelwomenarehot0, @lizzieswife101, @og-kxsh-420, @chibilauren, @sgm616, @cyber-juipter, @falloutboy-lover, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx, @likefirenrain, @cole2907, @rahhhha, @taliiiaasteria, @dehydratedcoffeeaddict, @viktoriaromanovaa, @julz2000, @ahintofchaos, @consti-ss, @broimjustadepressedlesbian, @rowiebear, @crispychaosmaker, @mary-20, @romanoff101, @alexawynters, @dinno-nuggets, @riddlesknot

(Does it work when I tag yall like this?)

[writerslittlelibrary]

Don't worry about a thing

masterlist

summary: your parents needed the extra money, even if it meant making you work for it. what happens when two women disagree with your parents methods?

pairing: dark!Wandanat x teen reader, dark!Yelena x teen reader, dark!Melina x teen reader, dark!Bucky x teen reader, dark!Alexei x teen reader

warnings: alcoholism, dark Wandanat, dark themes, kidnapping, it’s kinda fluff as well

genre: angst, fluff

words: 2690

a/n: this kinda turned from dark!wandanat to a very soft fic. I mean, reader still gets kidnapped, but Wandanat are so sweet about it… :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You had been working in the cafe for a while. Your parents needed the money, and to be honest, you needed it too. 

Your parents had been drinking since you were a young child, and you now you were a teenager, which means it is legal for you to work. Your parents didn’t hesitate to push you towards a job. With all their money going to alcohol, they needed your money for either food, or more drinks. 

On the side, you would save a little bit of money, trying to save enough to hopefully one day go to college.

Today it was a day like any other. 

You had just gotten back from school, and you went to the cafe immediately. However, this time was a little different. For the last couple of weeks, you had the weird feeling that someone was watching you. There had been a few people that asked about a lot of details from you, which creeped you out a bit.

At first, it was a red-headed woman. She looked to be around her thirties, and she was very kind. 

Then, there was a brown haired woman. She asked how you were doing, whether you were still in school, and also how you would be getting home. She seemed concerned for your safety. After all, it had been late that day.

Then, a blonde haired woman had walked in. She went into the cafe with a dog, and after ordering for herself and her dog, she offered to walk you home. You had told her that you were fine, and that your father was picking you up, but as usual, he hadn’t showed up. The woman insisted on walking you home, and you had allowed her. What was the harm, right? She was very kind and respectful, and her dog was nice.

After that, you had a week of boring people, as usual. People who didn’t give a single shit about your life. People that only cared about the fact that they had been waiting on their coffee for five whole minutes.

You figured you had just been imagining things, and that the three women you had met where just genuinely kind. 

However, after that week ended, weirdly invasive people started to come into the cafe again.

At first it was a man. He was wearing gloves, and he looked a little scary. His hair was brown, and he was tall and looked strong. However, when he ordered you decided he was actually very sweet. He talked with you the entire night, thanking you when you served him his drinks and food, and he tipped very well. 

A week later, this week, you spotted the red haired woman from a few weeks ago sitting at one of the tables. 

She wasn’t alone this time. The brown haired woman, who you had seen earlier as well, was sitting beside her. You walked up to them with a smile, pushing your odd feelings down and getting ready to serve them just like any other day.

The women smiled at you, and after giving you their order, they continued a conversation of their own.

You brushed your anxiety off of yourself, making their drinks and continuing with your shift. However, after serving them and getting back to another costumer, the man you had seen earlier walked in. He looked a little angry, but smiled kindly when he met your eyes. You smiled back, but before you could ask for his order, he went to sit down with the other two women. 

Again, you didn’t think much off it, rather just pushing the anxiety away and continuing with your job.

It started to get really weird, though, when the blonde haired woman walked in. She was accompanied by her fluffy dog, which didn’t hesitate to greet you with a wagging tail. You bent down to pet him, when you noticed a slightly red streak running along his fur. 

You went to brush your hand over it, but the dog retreated back to it’s owner.

She smiled at you and stopped at the bar, ordering the same thing she ordered a few weeks ago. After doing so, she went to sit down with the other man and women. Why did they know each other? Had it been a coincidence that you had all seen them before? Were they watching you?

You shook the thoughts from your head, preparing the woman’s order, putting some whipped cream into a cup for her dog, before bringing it over to the table. 

You put it down with a smile, grabbing the empty two cups and asking if you could get them anything else.

“We’re alright, sweetheart,” the brown haired woman spoke with a gentle smile.

You nodded and retreated back to the counter, ready to serve other costumers, before you realised, there were no other costumers.

The entire cafe was empty, minus the four people sitting in the corner.

Odd, this was usually such a busy time. 

You didn’t think much off it, rather deciding to start cleaning up a bit in the hopes of getting home earlier tonight. When you were about to shut off the coffee machine you heard the little bell ring, indicating that another costumer had walked in.

You turned to look at them, discovering that it was a tall, large man. He had tattoos covering his arms, and a long beard. He was followed by a woman, who smiled at you before she pulled the man over to the table where the other people were sitting. You hadn’t seen them before, but you did find it odd. 

When your colleague told you she was heading home for the night, you agreed to closing up, telling her to get home safe. 

After she left, you glance over at the table impatiently. They had been sitting there for hours, and you wanted to get home on time tonight. You still had a few tests to study for, and there was a project you were supposed to hand in yesterday.

You stood impatiently at the counter until the blonde woman walked up to you. You had hoped she wanted to pay, but instead she simply asked for a donut. 

You hid your annoyance and got her what she wanted, smiling at her when you handed the sweet treat over. 

“How are you getting home today?” she asked as she took the donut from you, taking a bite. 

“My father was supposed to pick me up, but I suppose I’ll be walking once again,” you replied, closing the treat cabinet. 

“I can give you a ride if you’d like. My parents are probably leaving with my sister anyway, so there will be a car left that I’ll have to drive,” she explained, giving her dog a few pets when it excitedly walked over to her. She snuck the dog some pieces of the donut while praising her for being such a good girl.

“That’s very kind, but I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you replied, not wanting to get into a strangers car.

“Don’t be silly. It’s no problem, I promise. A young girl like you shouldn’t be out on the street alone at this time. It’s dangerous, someone could hurt you,” the woman reasoned, and you thought for a moment before agreeing. 

It did seem dangerous to walk home alone in the dark, and this woman was very kind. There was no way that she would hurt you. 

“If you’re certain that it won’t be a problem…” you said, and you watched the woman shake her head.

“Of course not. Besides, Fanny would love the extra cuddles,” the woman explained, giving her dog, Fanny, a few scratches behind her ears. 

You turned around, missing the sign the woman gave to the other people at the table. They got up, walking towards the door. The red headed woman stayed behind, telling the others she would be there soon. 

She walked over to the counter, giving Fanny a few pets before pulling out her wallet. 

“I’d like to pay for the whole table, please,” she told you as she grabbed her card. You nodded and typed in the amount on the device.

After paying, she thanked you and walked out of the cafe.

“I’m Yelena, by the way,” the blonde woman said as she waited for you to close everything up. “I’m y/n,” you told her, locking the register and walking out from behind the bar.

“This way,” she said as she led the way out of the cafe, waiting for you to lock the door before opening the door of her car. 

You were about to get in before Fanny jumped into the car before you, settling in the middle of the couch chair. Yelena drove a truck, so it was easy to fit three people on the chair. You got in after Fanny, sitting beside her and petting her head when she laid her head on your lap.

Yelena got into the drivers seat, closing the door and starting the car.

“Here, you must be thirsty after working for so long,” she said as she handed you a bottle of water. 

“Thank you,” you thanked her as you opened it, taking a few sips.

“Who was your sister?” you asked Yelena after a little while. She turned to you with a smile, rubbing Fanny’s fur.

“The red head, Natasha. She’s my sister. The big guy, with the long beard, that’s my dad, and the woman with dark brown hair is my mom,” Yelena explained, focusing back on the road. “The cafe you work at is close to our work space, so we come there a lot, but we’ve never been there together.”  

“What kind of work do you do?” you asked her curiously.

“We take care of business. Make sure people pay… taxes… that sort of stuff,” Yelena explained, although she weirdly paused before mentioning taxes. You nodded, focusing on the world outside.

After a few minutes of silence, you started to get a bit dizzy, grabbing onto the dashboard to steady yourself as black spots took over your vision. 

“Everything alright?” Yelena asked, concern lacing her voice.

“Just a little dizzy…” you explained, taking a few deep breaths in the hopes of clearing your vision.

“That happens sometimes after doing a lot during the day, especially for girls your age. You should drink a bit more water and take a few deep breaths. It’ll pass,” Yelena told you, and you nodded as you gulped the leftover water in the waterbottle down.

You sat back, taking a few deep breaths and looking out the window, suddenly noticing the road you were at didn’t look familiar. 

“This isn’t my street…?” you asked Yelena, who merely shrugged.

“There is construction that way, so I figured we’d avoid it,” she reasoned, turning on her turn signal and steering into another unfamiliar road. 

You were about to protest, but the spots in your vision took over nearly everything, and you suddenly felt to dizzy to talk. You tried to say something, but you couldn’t even remember what happened after as you lost consciousness completely. 

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

You groaned slightly when you woke up, the sun blinding your vision as you covered your eyes with your hands. You turned around in the bed, pulling the covers a little higher a closing you eyes again, fully prepared to go back to sleep.

Suddenly, you sat up in a fright, looking around the room and taking in you surroundings. You never got home lat night. 

You don’t remember anything past the points of being dizzy. 

You threw the covers away, standing up from the bed, ignoring the slight dizziness as you walked over to the window. As soon as you pulled the curtains open, all you could see was snow. What the actual fuck. It never snowed where you were from.

You ran towards the door, surprised when it opened immediately. 

You looked out into the hallway, making sure it was clear before you made your way downstairs. You could hear chatter coming from what you assumed was the living room, and so you tried to go around it, heading towards the front door, or atleast, what looked like the front door.

You almost thought you weren’t spotted, until you heard a voice coming from the living room.

“If you’re going outside, don’t forget your boots and jacket. Winters are very cold around here.” 

You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as the voice spoke so casual. If she knew you were leaving, why didn’t she try to stop you? You hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do as you looked at the rack of shoes. Your shoes were there, together with a vast variety of boots.

“If you’re hungry, there is also some breakfast,” the voice spoke again, and you took a deep breath before deciding to follow it.

You walked into the living room, seeing all five people sitting on a few couches. 

The red headed woman, Natasha, was sitting at the edge of the couch with the brown haired woman beside her. Natasha was scrolling on her phone while the other woman was reading a book. 

After they noticed you arrived in the living room, the woman put her book away.

“Where am I?” you asked quietly, glancing over at Yelena who was watching something on the tv. You couldn’t understand the language, and you figured it must’ve been something slavic. 

“You’re home,” the woman smiled softly, getting up from the couch and reaching for your hand.

“We figured we’d let you sleep in, so I put some breakfast in the fridge for you,” she explained as she led you towards the kitchen, letting go of your hand and opening the fridge, pulling out a plate of waffles. 

You went to sit down at the barstool, leaning on the kitchen island, debating on what to say next. 

“Who are you…?” you asked hesitantly, afraid to upset her.

“My name is, Wanda, but you may call me mom, and Natasha is mama,” Wanda stated simply, squirting some whipped cream on the waffles before topping them off with some fresh fruit.

“... What…?”

“I understand that it may be a bit confusing, but I promise you you will be happy here. We will make sure you will never have to worry about anything another day in your life,” Wanda explained, smiling as she put the plate of food in front of you. 

“What about my parents?” you asked, and Wanda just smiled.

“You don’t have to worry about them hurting you ever again, I promise.” 

You nodded slightly, staring at the plate of waffles. 

“So you kidnapped me?” 

Wanda chuckled a bit, sitting down across from you and pouting you a glass of your favourite juice. “I guess you could call it that, although that is not our intention. We love you, and we’ll show that to you,” she explained, putting the glass of juice down in front of you. 

You hesitated before you felt your belly rumble in hunger, staring at the plate of waffles for only a second longer before you dug in, enjoying the amazing tasty treat. 

“Why me?” you asked after taking a breath, taking a sip from your juice and staring at Wanda. 

“You are special. You might not understand it, but you are special, and we love you. You are perfect,” Wanda explained, smiling as Natasha joined you in the kitchen. 

“Don’t worry about it too much, malysh. You will love it here, and you will have everything you could dream off,” she said, giving you a kiss on your forehead. She reached over to the cabinet, grabbing a glass and filling it with some juice as well. 

“If you want, I can take you outside later, or you could explore the house a little if that’s what you prefer,” Natasha suggested, and you nodded.

“Okay,” you simply said, taking another bite of your waffles.

You were confused beyond comprehension, yet for some reason, you felt safe. You knew you were safe, and for the first time in your life, you felt content. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @n0txn3vee @lorsstar1st

[abbyromanoff]

YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE

PAIRINGS: GF!Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 5,142

WARNINGS: Nat is ghost face, smut, killing, blood, dark!Nat, Nat has a dick, cnc, dubcon, daddy kink, begging, praise, degrading, fingering, facials, dry-humping, knives, carving, pain kink, hair pulling, manipulation, size kink, tummy bulges, blowjobs, breeding, unprotected sex, kinda dark!R, very dark descriptions of death, kinda depressed!r, mentions of cheating (no cheating actually happens tho), think that’s all :)

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

Your eerie apartment was filled with complete silence. You could hear the clock on the wall slowly ticking away at your life, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You couldn’t find it in you to care if your entire existence would vanish in the spot, there was nothing left for you to live for anyways.

You clicked through the channels mindlessly, hoping to find something that could entertain you. The pizza box left on the table had three pieces left - all cold. Your girlfriend had been out for god knows how long. Your phone was next to you, taking Nat’s spot on the couch. It was nearly dead, but that didn’t matter, you didn’t get any notifications anyways.

Suddenly, after minutes of surfing through the tv, the blasting sounds of a breaking emergency filled your ears. The news reporter, a blonde woman most likely in her late thirties, stared dead into your eyes without knowledge of it. She read the words from the telegraph, a small shake in her voice as the man next to her hid a fearful gulp.

It started a few months ago, people reported dead all around the city. The only problem was that it was New York, there were small and large crimes daily; no cop, no matter how good, would ever be able to figure out who was the masked killer.

There had already been over ten found bodies, there was a small part of you who wished you were one of them. Blood would smear the walls of the victim's houses, a new letter to create a large sentence being designed ever so slowly. You wondered what they’d do if they got to each letter, would they stop? Would they be caught beforehand? You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to know.

Every video you found online was all about the same topic, who is this new Ghostface, as they called him. When would he strike again? Is it even a he? You didn’t bother, they were just a bunch of conspiracy theorists who had such little to do in their lives that they became so invested in others. So what if they were crazy? Isn’t everyone at least a little bit?

You could hear the sound of keys dangling outside of your door and rolled your eyes, she was back.

“Hey, beautiful.” She muttered when she got near you, planting a kiss on top of your head and climbing onto the couch. She took the spot next to you, accidentally sitting on your drained phone.

“Look who’s home.” She tried placing her arm around your neck, only to feel you shuffle away. You wouldn’t even look at her, only going to stand up and grab the recycling left on the coffee table.

“Oh, c’mon, are you really mad at me?” She attempted to pull you back down, make you sit with her so she can finally hold you; but you shrugged her off. She sighed, rolling her head back and trying to find comfort in the cheap sofa that did nothing for her.

“Why would I be mad? Because you were out all night and didn’t bother to text me or call me back? Or maybe because you smell like that bitches perfume?” You asked, sarcasm evident in your voice. She groaned and stood back up, yawning as she walked into the kitchen where you stood, back facing her as you scrubbed the dishes.

She watched you for a moment, her side leaning on the fridge as she crossed her arms over her broad chest. She waited for anything else, any other comment, but none came. Instead, she grabbed a warm beer from the six-pack box that was resting on the floor next to the counter. She easily popped open the cap and flicked it in the direction of the trash, hoping it made it in.

Your gaze traveled to the side when you noticed the glass bottle being placed next to you and let out a deep and frustrated sigh as you felt her hands rubbing your arms.

“You really think I’d fuck someone else when I have you right here?” She smirked with pure cockiness, it nearly made you want to puke. When you still did not indicate forgiveness or submitting, her smirk dropped.

“Why don’t you believe me, doll? I give you everything you ask and you still don’t trust me?” You felt her crotch poking your backside and tried to hide the goosebumps that arose to the surface. Her hands were gentle as they moved your hair to one side, letting your neck be displayed as you subconsciously leaned into her pecks. She kissed from your exposed shoulder up to your jawline, stopping there as you felt her hot breath against your cold skin.

“Nat-”

“Shh, isn’t this what you wanted?” You showed no evidence to prove her right. You wanted her to feel bad, it’s what she deserved. Who was she to think she can just take off whenever she wants, fuck who she wants, and have the audacity to get annoyed at your worries.

“You’re so hot when you’re mad, makes me just wanna- take you right here.” You felt her hands slide down your pants and dip into your panties. She audibly gasped when feeling your wetness gushing on her fingers.

“You want this, hm? You want daddy’s fingers?” Your palms gripped the ends of your countertop as her middle finger rubbed your clit slowly.

“More.” You choked out, your hips involuntarily grinding into her, chasing the pleasure. She chuckled, shaking her head and tsking.

“No, no, you need to tell me you want it, baby girl.” Your mouth opened, only to release a silent scream as she eased a finger into you. You fucking hated her, despised her, but she knew you perfectly, she knew exactly how to make you tell her how much you love her.

“I want it.” She hummed, signaling for you to continue. You groaned in annoyance, your hand traveling to your chest where you palmed your tits.

“I want it…daddy. I want you, please.” You struggled to get out through gritted teeth, hating how the words sounded coming from your mouth. This was the last time she’d get away with something through fucking you, you’d tell yourself, yet you seemed to repeat those words in your mind every single time. And every single time you ended up back in this situation, orgasms rushing through you while you acted like a desperate whore for any sort of attention she’d offer.

You wondered if her other woman felt the same as you, who couldn’t despise her every move?

“That’s a good girl, you’re daddy’s good little girl, right?” You nodded, your head falling on her shoulder as you tried to find hold of something. Her cock rubbed against your skin as she fucked herself to your pleasured state.

“Cum with me. Make a fucking mess, you slut.”

Your sleeping body laid with the blanket covering only your chest to the tops of your thighs. Nat was next to you, brushing the hair out of your face and smiling at your state. You look beautiful, you always did, but you looked even better when you were shut up for once. She wished she could just fuck that attitude right out of you.

Of course, she wasn’t cheating, no idiot would do such a thing to someone like you. You were a feisty little thing, if you ever found out she was cheating you’d beat her ass into her own grave and plead insanity - she taught you well.

“I’ll be back soon, pretty girl.” She whispered even when knowing you couldn’t hear such words. You shuffled in your sleep and she gave your forehead one last kiss before standing, finding a new pair of boxers and a bra before grabbing her clothing. She had everything she needed in her bag - her mask, outfit, and most importantly, her knife. The best part about it all was that the knife was a custom design you ordered for her for your first Christmas as a pair. It had her initials on it with a heart next to it, reminding her of your love. Your past love for her at least, everything was different now. She didn’t want to hurt you, but you couldn’t figure her out just yet. She’d tell you eventually, she wanted to, she loved nothing more than bragging about her killings, and with you, she’d finally have someone to do so with.

There was still that fear that you wouldn’t accept it though, it wasn’t exactly an easy topic to be brought up. But she couldn’t wait to prove to you that she was in fact loyal, just maybe not clean of her sins.

With one last glance, she left, closing the door behind her and walking down the stairs of the cheap building, shuffling the bag from shoulder to shoulder. She threw it in the car once she found her keys, settling herself in the driver's seat and preparing herself before driving off, her main destination in mind.

“Alright, Mar, let’s see just how well you handle it.” She mumbled to herself, her elbow slamming into the glass of the woman’s back window. She was in, the easiest part was done, and now it was just her time to have fun.

When you woke in the middle of the night, 2:43 AM reading on the clock, you searched for your lover, only to come up empty-handed. You bit back the bile in your throat and threw the blanket over you angrily, grabbing the suitcase you kept under your bed. It was meant for trips, now it was being used to kick out your girlfriend; if she even was that anymore. You didn’t know what changed her, who changed her, but you were done. If she wanted someone else then she could have them, she already used up all the chances you offered her.

Then, there was the sound of the keys rattling, she was back for the last time. You stood up with the luggage in hand, throwing the door open as you were planning to be greeted by a hickey-stained Nat with more excuses pooling out of her, but there was no one to be seen.

“Get the fuck out here, Nat.” You waited for something, but there was no sign of her. You noticed her keys resting on the ground in front of the door, covered in blood. You gulped, taking a step back from nothing.

“Nat? Babe, where- where are you?” You yelled out, your head turning in all directions to look for her. You still found no one, it was pitch black, and nearly impossible to find any sighting of anything besides the luggage by your feet. Your hands were sweaty as your body was stuck in place, you couldn’t move.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Nat, get out here right now.” Hands landed on your shoulders, a low whisper coming to your ear.

“Boo.” You jumped, turning around only to find a person dressed in all black besides their mask. The face covering looked like the design of a ghost, one that a child would draw as their mother praised them for what a good job they did, even if they knew it was horrible.

The man twirled the knife in his hands, watching your fear grow in your eyes and motions.

“Aww, did I scare you, baby girl?” You were able to really listen in on their voice this time, it sounded familiar. You suddenly regretted everything you had said earlier on, you weren’t ready to die just yet.

“No need to be scared, it’s just me.” The man went down on one knee in front of you, knife still in hand near their leg as his hand ventured to his mask, removing the plastic only to see,

“Nat?” She chuckled darkly, reaching up to switch on the light that was sitting on a small table next to you.

“What the fuck was that?” She tried to reach out for your face, only to be pushed away; she wasn’t having that. She gripped your arm tightly, your wrist starting to ache the more she squeezed. She took pleasure in seeing such pain and fear in your features, it somehow made you all the more beautiful.

“Nat- stop it, you’re hurting me.” She smiled darkly as you spoke.

“Perfect.” You thought this was the end, she was going to kill you, your girlfriend was going to kill you. But there seemed to be no move made to do so.

“If you’re going to kill me just get it over with already.” She let go of your arm and you noticed the tensity in her jaw increasing, her head turning just enough for her darkened glare to look all the more dangerous.

“Oh, baby, you really think I’d kill you? There’s no point, it’s not like anyone would miss you.” The words hurt even more than your wrist in the moment, you bit back a remark, choosing to play your cards right and not argue with the woman now pointing a knife at you.

“No, I’m not going to kill you, we’re just gonna have a bit of fun together, alright?” The cold metal pressed against your neck, the sharp tip nearly causing you to leak blood. You whimpered the further she went, your skin barrier breaking as a red substance slowly dripped down your neck.

“Fuck, you don’t know how badly I’ve been wanting this, I’ve been just dying to see you dripping in blood all at the hands of my knife.” You didn’t move, didn’t speak, the fear of what she’d do to you if so indulging you.

“You know, I was planning to come home to my gorgeous little girl laying in bed, ready to take me whenever I want. But instead, I came home to a suitcase of my clothes ready for me, you were gonna kick me out, huh?” You slowly nodded, wetness pooling in your eyes and your shorts. You squeezed your eyes shut in shame, it was so wrong to be needy after such things, she was holding a deadly object to your body and you were still turned on, were you just as crazy as her?

“But seeing that look in your eyes I- fuck, I just wanted you so much more. I was going to tell you, but I- I didn’t know how you’d react, you know?” She was practically manic as she spewed jumbled-up words, her eyes wide and her laugh being as haunted as her soul.

“I mean, just watching Maria on the floor, begging for her life to be saved- it just made me want to shove this knife so deep inside of her and watch as her life slowly drained from her eyes until there was nothing left.” Your own eyes widened at her words, trying to scramble as far away from her as you could. There was no escape though, you were pressed against the wall and she was surrounding every part of you, including your mind.

“Don’t run from me, baby.” She started. “All of this- all of it would’ve been prevented if it wasn’t for you. God, you’re just such a fucking slut, whoring yourself out to practically everyone. Do I not do enough for you? I fucking killed for you and that’s not enough?” You knew this was all the manipulation tactics that she noticed seemed to work with you, and it was working. You were ready to spit out apology after apology, praying for forgiveness, just like all of her victims.

She quickly reached for her bag, and you wanted nothing less than to know what was in there. She grabbed a small book, opening it to show the multiple photos of bloodied victims fallen at her hands. She looked proud, excited, all to show you her work.

“Maybe these people would’ve still been alive if it wasn’t for you.” You tore your eyes away quickly, you couldn’t stand seeing such brutality. It wasn’t your fault, you weren’t the one who hurt them, you told yourself. But there was that nagging thought, what if she did kill them because of you? Sure, you flirted, you had old flings but they weren’t contacted since you started your long relationship with Nat.

“Maria didn’t deserve this, none of them did.” You sobbed out, flinching when you felt her hand on your cheek. It was a soothing matter, one meant to calm you, but it did everything but. Suddenly, the same hand connected harshly with the skin, causing it to instantly redden in pain.

“They wanted you, baby, you should’ve known that. You think I didn’t pick up on Maria’s glances at your ass or these, perfect breasts of yours?” She groped your body with desire, shuddering out a breath while doing so.

“Of course, you didn’t notice, you thought she was just being ‘nice’, so fucking stupid.”

“And Wanda? She had a husband, Nat, a family.” Instead of giving you the response you wanted, an explanation to it all, she just continued to tease your nipples with the pad of her thumb through the fabric.

“You know I’d never kill you, right?” It took you a moment before you could get out a hesitant nod, struggling to fully believe her. You always trusted her, but times changed, and so did she.

“I like hurting people, it excites me. But you, I could never do such a thing, I never want to see you in pain, pretty girl.” She murmurs, moving her free hand to her crotch where she rubbed herself thoroughly.

“I just- you ever get so angry, so sick of someone, you just wish you could, like, kill them? Sometimes when we get into those heated arguments, I just wonder how much you’d be willing to beg me not to hurt you.” You watched as she slowly slid the black suit over her head, revealing her black sweatpants. She lowered them to her knees, and let her boxers make way to your vision.

“I’d never act on it, but with others, you don’t need to care about how much they mean to you, because their life costs me nothing but annoyance. I’d kill every last soul on this planet just for you, all you’d have to do is ask.” She grasped your hand, leading it to her confined cock as you palmed her length. Your breathing was ragged, shaky as you refused to look her in the eyes. You knew if you stared too deep into that emerald glaze, there would be no stopping. You wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her if you saw the care hidden deep inside of her.

“If I let you touch me, will you stop?” The killings are what you meant, but there was a hidden meaning in the words.

“I can’t promise you I’ll be able to, love.” There was a small whimper escaping her lips as you dipped your hand inside her underwear, grasping her cock in your hands as you stroked with a back-and-forth motion.

“That’s it, don’t stop.” You couldn’t believe yourself, you were sick, insane. Was this normal? No, it couldn’t be. But it felt so good, there was no stopping it. You wanted to see her face contort into pleasure, you wanted to see what she’d do to you. Would she treat you the same as Maria? Would she kill you when you were done? Did she mean it when she sputtered those words? You didn’t want to die just yet, you used to think you did, but that was until you faced death with open arms. How could a criminal, a serial murderer, a psychopath look so perfect? She still looked the same, but there was blood covering her hands and her red hair was messy, her forehead covered in trails of sweat.

“I’m- God, you’re such a good little girl, so fucking perfect.” She noticed the way your thighs clenched, rubbing together as your hips jutted into the air.

“Does someone like when daddy compliments them? Tells them how good they’re doing?” You nodded quickly, your mouth aching to land on her crotch.

“Yeah? You like being a good girl? Or do you like being a good little slut for me?” Both. The answer was both. You wanted nothing more than to prove your worth to her, but you wanted her to treat you like you had none.

“I’m cumming, baby, I’m fucking cumming.” She clenched her jaw tightly and groaned deeply as continuous spurts of cum coated your face. She looked down, grasping your hair in her hands to create a ponytail before forcing herself into your mouth. She could feel the salty tears that had traveled down to your lips spreading amongst her dick, making her grin.

“Swallow daddy’s cum, little girl.” She whispered, dragging you up and down as you gagged around her. Some dribbled down your chin, but she didn’t mind, and neither did you. It had been so long since she felt the warmth that was your mouth, you had been refusing to have sex with her until earlier today. When she finally got her hands on you, it felt magical, like a long-awaiting finale to a show.

“Your throat is so fucking tight,” She said. “I know you must be so wet, you like it when I’m rough, don’t ya’?” She extracted her length from your mouth, causing you to let out a multiple of deep breaths. She tossed your loose shorts to the side after ripping them in half, her biceps flexing in the short moment it took to do so.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you, Y/N.” She rarely ever used your name, it was almost odd to hear such a thing. She got ahold of your thighs, pulling you forward and, if it wasn’t for her your hand massaging the part of your scalp she tugged, your head would’ve roughly slammed against the wooden floor.

Your thighs were then lifted to meet your stomach, her cock standing tall as she guided herself to prod at your hole. She rubbed up and down your folds, moaning lowly at the wetness coating you. She pressed herself teasingly against your clit, watching as your lips twitched upward.

“Nat- condom.”

“Oh, no, baby, I have a little something planned for tonight.” She eyed you with a soft smile as if it was the most obvious thing, you wished it didn’t turn you on as much as it did.

“You giving me that look isn’t going to help your case, it only makes me want to fuck you even more.” She stated when you gulped, giving her a nervous and feared look. This wasn’t your Nat, this was someone else, but you loved her just as much.

“F-fuck, you’re so warm and- tight!” She mumbled as her tip slowly opened you up. It was difficult to fit close to half of her inside of you, you didn’t know how you’d manage all of her. She held girth to her, and she was proud to point it out. She loved noticing how tiny you were compared to her, how her cock seemed to stretch you out more so than anything ever has before. No toy had come close; you became dependent on her length to fulfill your needs.

Your shirt soon joined your shorts as she tore it off you, roughly grasping your breast and squeezing as if it were a stress ball.

“Don’t do that. You’re a big girl, you can take it.” You whined pitifully, but her gaze was only filled with lust as her skin managed to press against yours. You had never once been able to take every last inch of her, but you were so wet, more than you’ve ever been. This side of her brought out something inside of you, something so shameful, you didn’t want to acknowledge it. But Nat did. She could sense how badly you had been wanting to spice things up for months, it was almost starting to turn out to be boring between you two, and she never expected you to act so compliant.

“Daddy, you’re so big.” She rested both arms at either side of your head, staring down at you with an intensity you longed for. You could see how badly she was trying to hold back from hurting you, but she wanted to so much. The thought of you covered in your blood only made her cock throb and pulse. She leaned down, letting her mouth ghost against yours, causing you to pull her forward to connect yourself with her. Her tongue poked at your lips, begging to get a taste of you. You didn’t let her, only pulling back with your eyes slowly trailing from her parted lips to her forest-green eyes.

“Fuck me, Nat.” She never liked her name all that much, she thought it was basic. But hearing it come from your mouth with your voice, it did things to her.

She pulled her hips back, her length sliding out of you, only to fuck itself back into you. Your tits jumped with your body as the thrust, her gaze couldn’t leave them.

She was in a deep state of arousal, even worse than you. And her knife was right there, it would’ve been so easy to repeat her actions onto her own body, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t care if she was a killer, you still loved her, you were as sick and gross as her. If anything, the thought fascinated you. You always enjoyed gore movies, and she was more than ecstatic when she found someone who shared her deep love for such acts, and you thought it was normal at first. That was until she asked you if you ever thought about doing the same things they did. You instantly said no, a little too quickly. Nat knew you were far from innocent, but she loved this part of you more than anything. You accepted her, even if she was insane.

“That feel good?” She asked, her voice coming out in stutters and cracked moans. You had released a loud whimper when she hit that spot deep inside of you, your nails clawing at her skin. She liked the pain, it sent a thrill through her body.

You felt a sharp poke against the skin of your thigh, looking down only to find her weapon covered in the blood of a previous fool, and now you were just the same.

“Nat-”

“Shh, just- shut up and take what I give you, alright?” She let the knife cut into you, leaving red liquid behind as it trailed down your body. It was warm, yet it still sent chills down your spine.

“You look so beautiful with my design, sweetheart.” She had carved an ‘N’, waiting and hoping for the end result where it’d scar your body forever. She didn’t know why she loved it so much, maybe if she hadn’t lied to the psychiatrists, she’d know.

“You think I should do the same thing…here?” Your skin lied a red trail that followed up until your neck, stopping short as she noticed your breathing patterns change.

“I could easily kill you, and no one would know.” She chuckled, bringing her face to rest on your shoulder, her nose against your neck as she inhaled your sweet scent. The knife pressed down a little harder, letting the skin break as a droplet fell.

“I know you won’t.” You whispered, goosebumps erupting over your skin. You were close, so close. You needed her, anything from her.

“Smart girl you are, hm?” Her hips were starting to lose rhythm the longer she went, it was growing more difficult to keep the same pace. The coil in her stomach had been begging to be let free, to finally relax as she came.

“You gonna cum, baby?” You nodded, moans consuming you making it impossible to speak. She finally leaned back, placing her palms on your stomach where a bulge appeared. She gasped, drawing in your attention as you hesitantly followed her vision. You bit your lip in hunger when noticing what caught your girlfriend’s attention, you had found her loving the way she could overpower you at any moment; taking you however she wanted because you couldn’t deny it. She adored being larger than you, it fueled that pride hidden inside of her.

“Oh, daddy must be stretching you out so, so much, huh? You’re just a cute little slut, so small compared to me.”

“Please-”

“Please, what?” She felt her peak rising further, she needed to release.

“Please cum inside me.” She was already planning to whether you wanted it or not, but seeing your dislike to the thought of children or pregnancy, she thought you’d never let her do so. She grinned, throwing her head back as she tried to muster out a response.

“I am, baby, I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you. Cum with me.” She felt your juices coating her length as your legs shook violently. Pumps of her release shot into you, a deep groan caving its way out of her.

“You’ll look so sexy carrying my babies.” She had the image planted deep in her mind, she wanted to make it a reality.

“Yes! Please- God, fuck!” She didn’t stop after your first orgasm, causing your sensitivity to grow until you couldn’t take such abuse anymore. The blood on your skin had dried, and red hand marks that would soon bruise made way to your vision.

“You’re okay, just relax.” You couldn’t believe it, the murderer you had spent nights praising for their impressive kill count and multiple days fearing was your girlfriend, and you didn’t even hate her for it.

“I told you, I’ll kill anyone for you. I want us to get away from the city, find someplace to lie low for a little bit, at least until they cross me out as a suspect. We can be happy, we can have everything you’ve always wanted, together.” She kissed the back of your hand, letting them leave a pattern up your arm until she reached your face, leaving a long and passionate kiss on your lips.

You weren’t ready for this, you didn’t even have money. And there were so many things that could go wrong, but wasn’t it worse in a place like this? There, you’d have a knowing of where Nat would be, she wouldn’t have to hurt anyone anymore. But would she ever really stop? Or was she just saying that to ease your worries? You didn’t know, but you also didn’t care. You’d always have Nat, in any way possible.

“Okay.”

[imaginedanvrs]

ready or not, here we come

ghostface!wandanatcarol x reader

masterlist

word count: 5.3k

warnings: home invasion, death threats, knife play, cutting, some blood, slapping, stalking, begging, fingering, restraint, strap on sex (r receiving), anal, double penetration, triple penetration, overestimation, implied character death. lmk if i missed anything

It was pretty much a once in a lifetime moment for you to have the entire house to yourself, so you were more than prepared to take full advantage. Trouble was, there were too many options and only one night to fulfil as much as you could.

  You could have brought someone home from your local bar to fool around with on whatever surface you pleased, though that meant being away from the house for a couple hours because your home was outside of town. You could have dug up your secret bag of weed in the back of your closet to smoke the house down, but if the potent smell still lingered when your parents strolled through the door the next day then you would be in deep shit. Maybe you should have just gotten off and made the most of not worrying about being too loud while enjoying your own company. 

  When you stepped into the lounge your eyes landed on the tv standing proudly at the front. Then again, maybe you could just watch your favourite horror films on the best quality screen in the house without anyone around to make noises of disgust at the kill scenes. Paired with the raw cookie dough your mum always scolded you for eating, it could be the perfect night. 

  You dashed upstairs and swiftly changed into your sleeping shorts and shirt, unaware of the heavy gaze that watched you strip. You practically lived in the middle of nowhere and had never really felt the need to close your blinds when you changed. Or even when you slept. It was a good area - quiet. 

  Just as your bare feet hit the downstairs landing, the phone rang through the hall. You considered ignoring it because whoever was on the other line certainly wasn’t going to be calling for you and from the sounds of it, half the people that your parents answered to were reps or scammers. Still, you were willing to bet the one phone call you didn’t answer was the one someone in the house was expecting but never mentioned. 

  “Hello?” You asked as you eyed the kitchen you were eager to get to. 

  “Hello?” A male voice came through.

  “Yes?” You frowned, wanting to get on with your evening and not entertain whoever was giving up their own Friday night to call your house.

  “Who is this?” The man asked. 

  “Who are you trying to reach?” You questioned back, maintaining your manners despite not being the least bit interested. 

  “What number is this?” He continued. Okay, you were done with this. 

  “Probably not the one you’re looking for,” you chuckled. “Goodnight,” you said and placed the phone back on the receiver without another word. You started back towards the kitchen when the phone rang behind you again. 

  Seriously?

  You glanced back at the device, wondering if it was just playing up but after several tones you trudged back and picked it up. “Hello,” you answered. 

  “I’m sorry, I had the wrong number,” the man told you with a certain calmness you were supposed to be feeling while you devoured the sugary treat you were craving. 

  “So why’d you dial it again?”

  “To apologise,” he said simply.

  “You’re forgiven, goodnight,” you repeated but apparently the caller wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. 

  “Wait, wait. Don’t hang up,” he insisted and you wondered briefly if he was as stoned as you could have been. He sounded it.

  “What?”

  “I wanna talk to you for a minute,” he said. You rolled your eyes, mildly amused by the caller’s unusual antics. 

  “There are other numbers for that, bye,” you informed lightly, pressing the phone down firmer than before. You strolled away and the silence remained. 

  The caller left your mind as soon as you began mixing together the ingredients you needed and left your house in a comfortable silence as you worked. Your hands worked absently, placing everything together until you were done. The moment you finished washing your hands, the phone rang again.

  You huffed, picking up the device. “Hello?” You asked, patience clearly running out. 

  “Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” You weren’t surprised to hear his voice.

  “Who is this?” You frowned as you gathered the bowl and a drink in your free hand. 

  “You tell me,” he replied, like he was such a smart ass. “You tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine,” he said playfully. You scoffed a little.

  “I don’t think so,” you told him though you weren’t so quick to hang up this time, hoping that entertaining him for a bit longer would make him stop. 

  “What is that?” He asked instead when you placed the bowl down on the table. 

  “Just something to snack on while I watch a movie,” you explained absently as you retrieved your drink. 

  “What kind?”

  “Just some scary movie,” you told him vaguely because you hadn’t decided on one yet. 

  “You like scary movies?” You smiled at the teasing manner he used whenever people were trying to scare their friends, willing to bet he was leading up to something.

  “Uh huh.”

  “What’s your favourite scary movie?” He asked and you grinned more. 

  “Halloween,” you recited at once. “I like the classics. What’s yours?”

  “Guess.” You opened up Netflix on the tv to put the film on and saw a few horror titles on there to give you some inspiration. “No cheating,” he warned and you scoffed again. 

  “Nightmare on Elm Street,” you suggested. He merely chuckled. 

  “So, you got a boyfriend?” The mystery caller continued. You didn’t comment on the random change of topics as you ventured leisurely around your house double checking all of the locks before you got ready to hang up and settle down. 

  “No, why? Do you want to ask me out on a date?” You entertained further. It wasn’t like you were ever going to meet this guy.

  “Maybe,” he chuckled. “You never did tell me your name?”

  “Why do you wanna know my name?” You approached the front door with an excited spring in your step. 

  “Because I wanna know who I’m looking at.” You swallowed thickly with your hand on the handle of the door, feeling an icy cold drop in your chest as you stood perfectly still. 

  “What did you say?” You spoke slowly, turning the lock on the door without checking if it was already locked or not. 

  “I said I wanna know who I’m talking to,” he replied simply as you exhaled with forceful steadiness. You didn’t respond to him as you switched the porch light on and peered outside. “Hello?” Came the voice as you scanned the area the light cast onto. You found nothing and in a way that felt worse. 

  “Look, I gotta go,” you told him as you turned the porch light off, feeling the need to make it look as though there was no one in the house. Whoever was calling was probably just some bored teenager that wanted to scare you. Maybe they knew you from school and had heard you in passing mention your love for horror movies. 

  “You hang up on me and I’ll gut you like a fish,” he spat, shifting his tone entirely. “Understand?” You didn’t respond, too busy flickering your gaze over every window and door in your immediate vicinity. “Yeah.” You could hear the smile in the sick fucks voice as your hands began to shake. 

  “I wanna play a game with you,” he said. “Can you handle that?” There was a clear taunt to his voice as you approached the window closest to you and peered out into the pitch black. You remembered your science teacher making a comment about light being on one side of a window at night. Though you couldn’t make out a thing in the darkness, anyone on the other side of that glass could see you in your fearful entirety. 

  “Can you see me?” 

  “Listen, I am two seconds from calling the police,” you warned, entirely too aware of how unthreatening you appeared when your voice was shaking and tears were stuck in your throat. 

  “They’d never make it in time,” he told you. 

  “What do you want?” You whimpered, pacing through your home. 

  “To see what your insides look like.” You hung up the phone and frantically dialled the three numbers you needed when the doorbell rang. You stumbled backwards through the corridor to get to the other side of the house while your blurred eyes stayed glued to the front door. 

  “Leave me alone!” You screamed though it did nothing to warn off the trespasser because less than a second later a cloaked figure smashed through the glass door behind you. They shook off the glass and slight disorientation as you bolted out of the room, dropping the phone in your fright. You had never felt fear like it as you heard them run after you, heavy boots crunching on the glass they had shattered to reach you. 

  You had just enough time to unlock and open the front door as you heard the cloaked figure advance and for a brief second you had a spark of hope that if you just kept running, you would escape them. The last thing you had expected was to throw open the door and be faced with the same eerie ghost mask you hadn’t gotten the chance to see the other invader wear. You didn’t give it much thought though, because it was more than obvious that whoever was behind that mask was not someone that wanted to help you. 

  Miraculously, you dodged them both when they lunged for you, sprinting to your right with no real plan as to how you could escape them both while inside your home. Your blood was pumping as fast as the adrenaline struck every limb in your body, willing you to just move. You obeyed, running full force into the solid body that appeared out of nowhere. 

  You grunted and before you could fall down on your own, the third masked figure took hold of your shirt and threw you down to the hard floor behind them with ease. You hit the wooden floor hard, your ribs taking the full impact and aching in protest to the bend they endured. You ignored the ache that was dulled by the shock and scrambled to get to your feet and give yourself some fighting chance against the odds, but a military style boot pressed firmly into the centre of your back and held you in place. Your lungs screamed at the suppression but you were in no state to help. 

  “Please,” you cried out as you tried to reach behind you to scratch at any exposed skin you could find. “I have money,” you attempted to negotiate with tears streaming down your cheeks. 

  “Aw, she has money,” one of them echoed. You recognised that haunting voice. 

  “You,” you whispered. 

  “Me,” the guy from the phone answered back. 

  “Look at all the effort I’ve gone to. Can I ask you out on a date now?” The others chuckled and you frowned at how similar they all sounded. 

  “I’ll do anything,” you told them, still struggling under their weight. 

  “Yes,” they said simply. “You will.” Suddenly, you were kicked onto your back and forced to gaze up at the three strangers before you. The first thing you noticed were the knives. They all held the same dagger that glistened threateningly under your home’s lights, itching to have their polished blade’s stained with whatever they desired to take from you. 

  “You’re going to be our first,” the one closest to you declared as they crouched down next to you and tilted their head, as though considering where to start.

  “You should be honoured,” another told as they strolled around the perimeter of the room until they were in your blind spot. “You’re going to be the first one to feel our blades,” they whispered close to your ear and hauled you up by the hair so you were pressed firmly against their cloaked front and unable to squirm away when their menacing blade was pressed against your neck.

  “So we thought we’d do something a little special for you.” Your desperate attempts to claw at the body behind you only served to amuse the other intruders whose cloaks were too thick for your nails even in your survival fueled strength. 

  “Please!” You begged again, unable to escape the coolness of the blade that was dangerously close to your jugular. It was futile to fight against one of them, never mind hope to get past the two that blocked both your exits. 

  “Please,” the one behind you mocked. “Please what?” They waited patiently for your answer as you stared at them in terror. 

  “Please don’t kill me,” you said quickly, knowing it wasn’t going to make a difference. “If you leave I won’t say anything. I don’t know who any of you are,” you reasoned. They looked between each other in silent communication before reaching for the ghost masks and pulling them swiftly from their heads. 

  What the fuck?

  “What about now?” Wanda asked, a smirk gracing the features that you had always admired from afar. Next to her, Natasha’s gaze bore into yours, void of the clear excitement her girlfriend had and instead looking at you like one of her hunting trophies she had collected from far too young an age. 

  You couldn’t see her, but Carol’s unmistakable voice was by your side. “Now lets play that game.” Her lips ghosted over your neck just under your ear as she spoke and you felt the knife twitch with her impatience. 

  “So competitive,” Wanda chided but her smirk didn’t waver. Natasha remained silent as she watched you. 

  “We’ll give you a five second head start to run,” Carol told you as she reluctantly moved her knife away and shoved you forwards. The pair in front of you stepped aside to create a clear path to the opened front door. 

  “Five,” Carol began and you sprung to your feet. To all of their surprise, you didn’t go for the door, you went for the stairs. 

  The three women were the best athletes in your school and you knew that if you ran out of the house you would have no chance of outrunning any of them, but maybe if you got ahold of the handgun your dad kept in his bedroom, you would stand a better chance of surviving the night. 

  “Four,” they continued as you ascended the stairs, scrambling over the steps quicker than you ever had in your life, even when you were a young child that thought monsters might be following you in the dark. Except this time they really were. 

  “Three.” You barged into your parents room and made for the safe in the corner. 

  “Two.” Your fingers fumbled against the number pad, making you enter the code wrong the first time until it clicked in confirmation for you to swing the door open to present an empty space. Your heart plummeted. 

  “One.” There was no time to ponder the location of the missing weapon, the only thing you could do was sprint to the best exit available. 

  “Ready or not, here we come,” Carol taunted as three sets of boots thudded up the stairs. Taking your chance, you ran to your own room towards the window that was in place just above the porch’s shelter. If you jumped from your own window down to the roof, there would be less chance of you injuring yourself and you would have a better shot of outrunning the intruders. 

  By the time you made it to your window, the first of the three was in your room just in time to see you struggling to pry open the old wood. Your heart hammered in your chest, refusing to look back at them as you failed to get a good grip on the window, unaware that it had been glued shut an hour prior. 

  “It’s almost a shame how predictable you are,” Natasha told you, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you on to your bed. Just as you landed, you leant back and put all of your energy into swinging your elbow into her ribs. She stumbled back at the impact and you moved to strike again but a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you just an inch off the floor. “But at least you’ve got some fight in you,” Natasha quipped as she watched you flair about in Carol’s arms. 

  “Fuck you!” You spat, realising that begging and compromising weren’t going to help you. “Let me go!”

  “But darling, we can’t let you run off now. You’re bleeding,” Wanda told you, voice thick with concern you knew she didn’t have. You frowned, unable to recall when their knives had actually broken skin until you were introduced to Natasha’s dagger. She swiped the fierce blade across your abdomen, slicing through your thin shirt and leaving a trail of red across your skin that made you hiss. It wasn’t deep, but the next one was. 

  “And now you’ve messed up your clothes,” Carol added as she held you firmly against her so that Wanda could tear your shirt off you while you continued to struggle. 

  “You poor thing,” the Sokovian pouted as she examined the scarlet streaks across your stomach, tracing them with her fingers and smearing the blood up to your tits. She groped and pinched at your hardened nipples, chuckling when you turned your head to the side with a whine. 

  “Stop,” you whimpered, voice small. 

  “You’re not in charge here,” Carol warned. Her fingers were digging into your hips so firmly that you were sure she was going to leave you with bruises. You were powerless against it as you squirmed in her grasp, even as she threw you down onto your bed. 

  “Fuck!” You cried out when you felt another slash hit the back of your thighs. You tried to scramble away but a gloved hand wrapped itself around the back of your neck and held you down into the mattress. 

  “You had your chance to run,” Wanda said as she appeared on your pillows and switched her hold to your hair to tug you up and face her. You gritted your teeth with a glare, not ready to give up your fight yet. “Now you do as we say.”

  You continued to glare at the Sokovian as a strong pair of gloved hands lifted your hips up to slide your shorts and underwear down painfully slowly, just because they could. The cold air hit you and sent a shiver through your body while your cheeks heard in embarrassment at being so exposed to the woman. You were sure Wanda’s heavy gaze noticed, but she didn’t comment, instead focused on rubbing her covered thumb across your lips. 

  “Open up.” She tapped them twice but you kept your lips firmly together. She smiled, amused, then delivered a harsh slap to your cheeks that heated them further. You still didn’t comply until she slapped you harder and your mouth fell open in shock, giving Wanda the chance to slip her fingers into your mouth and immediately press down on your tongue. You went to bite down on the rough material but the hand in your hair was suddenly gripping your jaw and holding it apart. You gagged slightly around her digits, trying your best to block out the laughter you heard around the room. 

  “I bet you’ll look so good choking on my strap,” Wanda mumbled, enchanted by the sight of you drooling around her gloves. Your protests were incoherent and you had a hard time not letting your head empty as Wanda slowly thrust her fingers. Even when she took her fingers out to pull her gloves off before filling your mouth again, you didn’t mumble a complaint…until you felt two fingers stroke your bare cunt. 

  You tried to twist around to at least see who it was, but Wanda was adamant on keeping your gaze fixed on her as one of the women collected the wetness you didn’t know was there and rubbed several circles on your clit. Your hips bucked involuntarily and you whined around Wanda’s digits. 

  “What was it that got you so sweet, doll?” Carol asked. “Was it when Natasha cut you? When we chased you up the stairs? Told you all those nasty things on the phone?” The blonde didn’t expect an answer and didn’t wait for one. She pushed two fingers forwards, groaning when your pussy took her in. You heard her curse and wanted to thrash away, but it was hard to deny how good it felt to have her skilled fingers inside you. 

  “Desperate whore,” Natasha commented as she appeared by Wanda’s side. The pair shared a passionate kiss as the Sokovian continued to thrust her own fingers and you couldn’t help but clench at the sight. 

  “You like watching them, doll? I didn’t take you for a voyeur,” Carol chuckled, curling her digits to elicit the reaction she wanted. You moaned when she brushed against the spot you needed, momentarily forgetting about the weapons they held until Natasha placed hers against your jugular. 

  “Malysh, let us play a little longer,” Wanda pouted to her lover. Natasha’s blank eyes bore into your own, still void of the excitement the other women held. Still, she pulled her knife away with a huff, making her girlfriend giggle as though she had become giddy at the promise of impending violence. “Let’s keep her entertained so she doesn’t regret that, huh?” Wanda whispered with a grin. You had always loved seeing her smile from afar, but in that moment you could only see the craze that sparkled in her eyes. She was terrifying, but still beautiful. 

  Almost so beautiful that between her and the fingers still steadily fucking you, you didn’t notice her unzip her trousers and pull out her strap until she was forcing you down on it. Your gags filled the room as she pushed you down by the back of your head, moaning softly at the way you struggled to take her. Tears filled your eyes and a distinct burning started up at the back of your throat as Wanda tried to break through. Your lips were wrapped so perfectly around her that she couldn’t help but buck her hips up slightly to chase some friction at your expense while you hit her thighs. 

  “Fuck, you get so tight when you can’t breath,” Carol groaned as pushed a third finger into you and scissored her digits slightly to enhance the stretch. Before you could grow accustomed, she pulled her soaked fingers out and pressed her own silicone toy between your legs. She prodded bashfully at your throbbing clit until you were shaking, wetting the length of the toy. 

  Carol muttered a curse when she pressed the head of her cock against your entrance that refused to part for her. You whimpered around the toy stuffing your mouth, feeling how large Carol was against you and how much it might hurt when she-

  “Take it,” the blonde hissed when she finally forced her strap inside your cunt. Your legs gave out but she quickly took hold of your hips and used them to thrust further, deeper, inside you. 

  “How’s that feel, love?” Wanda asked as she brushed your hair away from your features that were blurred with pain and pleasure. The stretch was intense and it was hard to imagine a point that you would even begin to adjust to Carol’s size as she refused to let up, adamant that you take all of her. “You look so pretty getting stuffed like a good fucktoy,” she told you, almost in a singsong tone. “Don’t you think?” Wanda turned to her partner who sat in your chair to the side, her gaze dead set on you. If you hadn’t already been so overstimulated, you would have shuddered. Natasha was looking at you like you were her prey and you couldn’t hold her gazy any longer. 

  Carol didn’t pause for a second when her hips finally pressed against your own. She didn’t give you a moment to adjust or prepare, she instantly drew her hips back only to slam the entire length back into your abused cunt. You cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

  Wanda cooed at the sight of you struggling to take them both, whispering condescending praises that you couldn’t pick up entirely. ‘Sweet fuck’ and ‘good whore’ were all you picked up as Wanda held you by the hair and made you continuously deepthroat her own toy while Carol pumped her cock in from behind, pace unrelenting. Your cunt burned in a pleasure you never could have imagined, bringing out moans you didn’t want to please the intruders with but couldn’t stop. It just felt so good to be used. Too good, more than you could hold off on. 

  “Gonna cum,” you managed to communicate when your whines grew louder and Wanda pulled you off her strap, spit down your chin and coating her toy. 

  “Cum for us,” Wanda said, pupils blown with lust at the sight beneath her. She pushed her strap back into your mouth but this time angled it slightly lower so that the harness could provide better friction for her clit. You didn’t realise what you were doing for her until you registered the stutter of her hips as she came with you. 

  “Fuck,” Wanda voiced as you cried out around her strap, clenching and pulsing around the cock in your pussy as Carol continued to fuck you relentlessly, pace still harsh. You shuddered and moaned, unable to distinguish up from down as your high was drawn out and you were sent toppling into a second one. 

  “Greedy thing,” you vaguely heard Natasha mutter as she stood up from the chair. Her boots thudded as she stalked towards the tangle of bodies, still only eyeing you. 

  “Come on, Nat. If she wants more, let's give her more,” Carol said, a smirk on her features that you never got to see. Natasha hummed, a trace of a smile threatening to break through.

  As pathetic as it was, you could have cried when Carol pulled out. You immediately felt empty but bit your tongue when you felt a pair of hands haul you up the bed until you were straddling Wanda’s own piece that glistened in the low light. She didn’t give you any instructions or warnings, merely pulled your hips down until you were half way filled with her strap. Without anything to stop you this time, your moans bounced off of the walls. 

  Despite the laughter you heard, you were also met with a firm slap to the face from Natasha. She still had her gloves on and had more force to the act than Wanda did, more aggression. It was clear that out of the three, she was the one that wanted to hurt you the most. She grabbed your chin, assessing you for a hard minute as you grinded into the base of Wanda’s strap. 

  “Danvers, come here,” she said without taking her eyes off of you. Carol grumbled something about the redhead not being in charge but complied as the two swapped places. It unnerved you greatly to know she was lurking somewhere behind you, but the other women kept your focus on them. 

  Wanda suddenly bucked her hips up and took a hold of your waist, making you follow her shallow thrusts as though she didn’t want to be that far from you. It meant that the head of her cock hit the back of your pussy more often and with more force and it felt incredible. 

  “You look so good like this,” Wanda husked, her accent slipping through slightly in her haze. 

  “Keep her still,” Natasha’s voice came behind you. Wanda stilled her movements and slapped your thigh when you tried to move against her. You met her smirk with a silent plea until you felt two wet fingers prod against your ass. 

  “Wait-” you tried but Natasha was already pushing them into the first knuckle, despite your discomfort. 

  “No,” the redhead said back as her lips ghosted over your shoulder and her teeth sunk into your skin. You whined at the dual pain and in trying to move away only made the strap shift inside you. 

  It was all too much as you felt Natasha begin to thrust her fingers into your ass steadily. She twisted and curled her fingers before fanning them out to open you up while Wanda began to move your hips once more. The discomfort and pleasure blurred together until you found yourself craving anything they gave you. Your moans picked up more when Carol’s lips found your nipples. 

  “You’ll take what we give you,” Natasha said, gliding her dagger around your torso where the looming threat settled. She pulled her fingers out of your tightest hole only to swiftly replace them with her strap.

  “Fuck, please!” You gasped at the sudden intrusion. “Too much,” you tried to communicate as you felt your body stretch once more. 

  “Shut her up,” Natasha huffed as she bore more of her weight down on you so that you took more of her piece. Your walls stretched so painfully that you almost didn’t register the cut to your torso. You cried out and fell against Wanda only to be pushed back so Carol could slide her strap between your lips. 

  With all three of them pounding into you in a purely primal manner, your body finally gave in to their assaults. Your eyes glazed over, unable to focus on any one thing as every thought in your mind struggled to make itself known. All you were aware of was the way seemingly every nerve in your defeated body was ablaze with an onslaught on sensations. The three women eventually found a rhythm to fall into together that ensured you were never empty, even as drops of blood fell from your scarlet chest you were too lost in the pleasure to acknowledge. 

  “You’re going to be the prettiest victim,” Natasha mumbled against your ear, biting the lobe softly. You whimpered, though not in fear. Their straps were hitting your depths over and over, never letting up for a second. Your holes welcomed them greedily, clenching around the silicone everytime they pulled out and making each woman grunt at the tightness. They made comments you mostly missed, but the degradation you picked up on only made you wetter, as Wanda pointed out. They were ruthless and even when you came again, they didn’t stop. 

  You whined around Carol’s toy, trying desperately to communicate how sore and used you felt. You needed a break to let your body recover, but it was made clear to you that you were done when the three women agreed you were. They pulled more orgasms from your wrecked frame, not caring when you soaked Wanda’s thighs with your cum or Carol’s with your spit. When you eventually passed out from the overstimulation, they withdrew. 

  You slumped against the Sokovian in an exhausted heap, barely able to keep your eyes open as she cooed to you how much of a perfect slut you were for them. You mumbled a protest when you were manoeuvred onto your back on the bed, finally opening your eyes to see Wanda leaning over you with a deranged look upon her face and shimmering knife in hand. “I know,” she said softly when your eyes widened in fear and tried to move your spent frame. “It’s scary, but you knew this bit would happen,” she continued, stroking your face as she dug the knife under your chin. 

  Carol and Wanda appeared at her side and you finally saw Natasha smile. She was smug, they all were. They had won. “Thank you for this, baby,” Wanda said, raising her dagger above her head. “You’ll look beautiful with our knives in you.”

  Then she struck.

[marvelobsessed134]

Captivity (My pretty little mermaid)

Wanted to write a smut with mermaid!reader but literally didn’t know how (where the fuck is a mermaids pussy?), so while I don’t read dom!reader fics, @Sytoran ‘s fic helped me find a way to write mermaid smut. Loosely inspired by her fic as well. 🩷🧜���♀️ I wanted to add a forced blowjob but decided not to, wanting this to be a sort of soft dark fic. However if you want part two let me know.

Pairings: Dark!Natasha x Fem!Mermaid!Reader

Warnings: smut, Nat has a dick but doesn’t use it lol, dark themes, dub/con, dom!natasha, sub!reader, kidnapping, fingering, praise, and I think that’s it.

Summary: you wake up to find yourself in a tank at the avengers compound

You woke up on a rock. Your vision hazy, you looked around. It looked like the ocean, but didn’t feel like it. Felt too…artificial. Especially with the very plastic looking brightly colored plants. A couple fish swam about but that’s the only thing that feels real. You decided to shakily get up, and you started to swim fast to the right side only to be hit with the thick glass of the tank. You winced at the feeling, watching some blood leave your nostrils.

You looked outside to see the dark grey walls. The only things lighting up your enclosure were the lights hanging on the ceiling above the surface.

Your heart rate picked up. Where were you? And most importantly, where was your family? Your mother and sisters would be worried about you by now. Your father, lord knows what he’s doing right now.

You started to hyperventilate, backing into one of the hard artificial coral reefs, and you began to cry.

Then, you heard a sound. The sound of a voice. “Here little mermaid, come out come out wherever you are…” the sickly sweet raspy voice of a woman called. And you don’t know why but you found yourself rising to the surface.

The red headed woman smiled once she saw you, beckoning you over with her finger. You didn’t move, in shock.

“Come over here now.” Her tone was more demanding now and you swam towards her, stopping right by her holding onto the ledge.

“Good girl. You can follow orders.” She murmured under her breath, low but you caught it. You furrowed your brows in confusion. What the fuck was happening?

“You’re probably so scared and confused right now, poor thing. I’ll let you know what’s going on here ok? This,” she motioned towards the large clear basin, “is your new home. Hope you like it. If you need any changes to it let me know.” For your captor, she was being oddly very nice. Made you let down your guard a little. “And you belong to me now. I know that seems scary but I promise I’ll take very good care of you. Now, let’s get to know each other. My names Natasha. What’s yours?”

She acted like this was just a chance meeting on the street, or like you were new classmates introducing yourselves to each other. You sighed a shaky breath, scared what would happen if you disobeyed, you whispered, “Y/n.”

“What a beautiful name for a pretty little mermaid. Come a little closer to me, beautiful.” You moved closer to her, allowing her to grope your naked breasts.

“Fuck, had me so hard seeing your tits out in the open like this.” She groaned. Then it clicked. You’ve met her before. She helped you get out of a tangled net, and promised not to tell anyone she saw you. Well, turns out your hero was your enemy.

She began to pinch your nipples and while you tried to move away, she pulled you back by your tit. She pulled you out of the water by your arm, making you wince from the pain, before laying you down and pulling a nipple into her mouth. You couldn’t help but moan, feeling the heat pool in your special area. You hoped she didn’t know mermaid anatomy.

“So pretty like this sweetheart.” The redhead said dryly as she continued to play with your breasts. Slowly, her other hand moved south towards your pussy. Your eyes widened as you tried to wiggle away, getting halfway into the water before she wrapped her arms around your tail and pulled you back up again. She was surprisingly strong though she didn’t look like it.

Natasha held you down with one of her arms as she continued to move her hand closer and closer to your special spot. She saw the small slit in your front that anyone could miss, but she didn’t. Reading up on mermaids and their lore, she knew where your pretty little pussy was.

She stuck her fingers into you and you moaned, gripping onto her arm like it was a lifeline. “So wet, is this all for me?” Your captor asked.

You found yourself nodding, bucking your hips towards her slender fingers causing her to chuckle. “Such an obedient thing. You just can’t handle someone touching your pretty pussy huh? Turns you into jello.” She continued to fuck you with her fingers, getting more and more aggressive.

“Natasha- Nat- I need- cum please.” Your whispered pleads were broken as the sensation took over you, clenching around her fingers, you began to shake as you felt that overwhelming feeling.

“Go ahead sweetheart, cum for me.” Natasha commanded. You released your juices all over her fingers and she rolled her eyes back. Taking her fingers out, she sucked them clean. “Holy fuck, never tried mermaid pussy before and now, I’m never going back.”

You laid there trying to regain your breath. “Good girl Y/n. You and I are gonna have lots of fun.” She smiled.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Yooo this is not a request but it’s an idea and it came to me in a dream so I must share 🤭

(It’s kinda dark tho)

Okay so after Ultron, Wanda’s lost everything. Her brother, her home. So when someone *cough cough* dark Natasha comes along one day, suddenly claiming that Wanda was hers and hers alone, Wanda thought nothing of it. She needs to be loved, and Natasha was offering that. So fast forward a bit right, they’re dating. And Nat never lets Wanda see her dark or sadistic tendencies, not outright. She treats the witch with love and affection, but she’s just firm enough to make sure she follows the rules, like always listen to her, don’t leave the house without permission, and ect. And Wanda was happy to do so. After all, she had Nat. Why would she want to leave? So R, a new avenger, stumbles upon their relationship and upon seeing it’s not healthy, tries to convince Wanda of that. As expected, Natasha doesn’t take too kindly to these attempts. Wanda is hers after all. So she kidnaps R, with the full intent of torturing and killing her, but she’s like mmmm R’s kinda cute and Wanda gets kinda lonely when I have to leave for missions so what the hell. But before she can let R have any type of contact with Wanda, or anyone for that matter, she needs to be re-trained. And if Nat can corrupt a powerful witch into being dependent, submissive, and docile, she’ll have no problem doing the same to R.

Lmao sorry this was long but I had to get it out. Again, not a request, just an idea I had! 💕

Becoming Yours

Dark!Natasha x Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader

Summary: Natasha is possessive over Wanda in an unhealthy way. When you try to come between them things take a turn.

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Dark themes (kidnapping, torture)

A/N: I've never written something like this so I hope it's okay!

After the fall of Ultron, Wanda Maximoff was adrift in a sea of grief. She had lost everything: her brother, her home, her sense of purpose. Her heart ached with the weight of it all, a hollow space where her twin once stood. Days bled into nights, and the world seemed to blur around the edges.

Then one evening, as the shadows grew long, Natasha Romanoff appeared in her life. There was a darkness in her eyes, a fierce, possessive edge that sent shivers down Wanda’s spine. Natasha’s presence was commanding, intoxicating in its intensity.

“You’re mine, Wanda,” Natasha whispered, her voice a soft, seductive promise. Natasha’s hand caressed Wanda’s cheek to which Wanda melted against. The touch of another for the first time in months. “And I’ll never let you go.”

Wanda, desperate for an anchor, for anything to fill the void inside her, found herself unable to resist. She craved love, needed it like a drowning person needs air, and Natasha was offering her just that. The lines between right and wrong blurred as Wanda allowed herself to be enveloped by Natasha’s embrace, surrendering to the fierce passion and the promise of belonging.

In the depths of her soul, Wanda knew she was making a dangerous choice, but in her brokenness, she clung to Natasha’s love like a lifeline, allowing herself to be consumed by the darkness.

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

Natasha treated Wanda with a kind of reverence, showering her with affection and care. She was the steady presence Wanda had craved in her life, always there to hold her, to whisper soothing words when nightmares of Sokovia or Ultron haunted her sleep. But Natasha was also firm, ensuring Wanda followed certain rules, ones that she insisted were for Wanda’s own good.

"Remember, always listen to me, Wanda," Natasha would say, her voice gentle but unyielding. "It's for your safety."

Wanda nodded, feeling the warmth of Natasha's hand against her cheek. "I understand, Nat. I trust you."

"Good girl," Natasha murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Wanda was happy to comply. After all, she had Natasha. Why would she ever want to leave? Natasha's rules felt like a small price to pay for the love and security she provided. Wanda never left the house without Natasha's permission, and she always made sure to check in, just as Natasha had asked. It became second nature, a routine she didn’t question.

One evening, as they sat together on the couch, Natasha's arm wrapped protectively around Wanda's shoulders, Wanda looked up and smiled. "I love this, Nat. Being here with you. It feels...right."

Natasha's eyes softened, and she stroked Wanda's hair. "It is right, Wanda. We're meant to be together."

Wanda nestled closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment. She didn't see the flicker of possessiveness in Natasha's eyes, nor did she notice the way Natasha's grip tightened ever so slightly. All she felt was the warmth of Natasha's love, and that was enough.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Wanda’s world shrank to the confines of their home, but she didn’t mind. Natasha was her world now. She didn’t need anything or anyone else. The occasional moments when Natasha’s firmness bordered on something darker, Wanda brushed aside. Natasha was only looking out for her, protecting her.

"Wanda," Natasha said one day, her tone serious. "I need you to promise me something."

"Anything," Wanda replied without hesitation.

"Never question my decisions. They're always for your benefit. Can you do that?"

Wanda nodded, her eyes filled with trust. "I promise, Nat."

"Good," Natasha said, her expression softening into a smile. "You make me so happy, Wanda."

"And you make me happy," Wanda whispered, leaning in for a kiss.

As Wanda rested her head on Natasha's shoulder, she felt a sense of peace wash over her. She was loved, she was safe, and in Natasha's arms, she had found her home. Little did she realize the delicate web she was entangled in, one spun with threads of love, control, and unspoken darkness.

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

You had joined the Avengers not long after the fall of Ultron, eager to make a difference and help where you could. It didn't take long to notice the peculiar dynamic between Natasha and Wanda. At first glance, they seemed like a perfect couple, but as you observed more closely, something felt off. Natasha's control over Wanda was unnerving, and the way Wanda seemed to shrink into herself whenever Natasha was around set off alarm bells in your mind.

One day, you found Wanda alone in the common room, her eyes distant and filled with a sadness that tugged at your heart. You took a deep breath and approached her.

"Wanda, can we talk?" you asked gently, sitting down next to her.

She looked at you with a small, forced smile. "Sure, Y/N. What's up?"

"I've been noticing some things...about you and Natasha," you began cautiously. "I just want to make sure you're okay. Are you happy with how things are?"

Wanda's smile faltered, and she glanced away. "Natasha takes care of me. She's...protective. It's just her way."

"But Wanda," you pressed, "it seems like she's more than just protective. You deserve to have your own freedom, to make your own choices without fear."

Before Wanda could respond, Natasha walked into the room, her expression darkening as she saw the two of you together. "Y/N," she said in a dangerously calm voice, "I need to speak with you. Now."

You felt a chill run down your spine but nodded. "Sure, Natasha."

She led you to a secluded part of the base, her grip on your arm like a vise. Once out of earshot, she turned to you, her eyes blazing with anger. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

"I'm just trying to help," you replied, keeping your voice steady. "Wanda deserves to be happy and free."

Natasha's lips curled into a cold smile. "Wanda is mine. She doesn't need your help, Y/N. But it seems you need a lesson in minding your own business."

Before you could react, Natasha struck, and darkness enveloped you.

When you awoke, you were in a dimly lit room, bound to a chair. Natasha stood before you, her arms crossed and a predatory gleam in her eyes.

"You've been a thorn in my side, Y/N," she said, circling you slowly. "But I've been thinking. Wanda does get lonely when I'm away. Maybe you can be of use after all."

You glared at her. "I'll never be a part of this. Wanda deserves better than to be controlled by you."

Natasha chuckled darkly. "Oh, you'll come around. If I can make a powerful witch like Wanda dependent, submissive, and docile, you'll be no trouble at all."

She moved closer, her face inches from yours. "First, though, I need to re-train you. Can't have you trying to contact anyone or running off, now can I?"

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

Days turned into weeks, and Natasha subjected you to a relentless regime of psychological and physical conditioning. She alternated between harsh punishments and twisted rewards, breaking down your resistance bit by bit. The isolation and constant manipulation were almost unbearable, but you clung to the thought of Wanda, the determination to free her from Natasha's grip fueling your will to resist.

Natasha watched your struggle with a cold, calculating gaze. "You're strong, Y/N," she admitted one day, a hint of grudging respect in her voice. "But everyone has a breaking point."

She leaned in, her voice a whisper of menace. "And I will find yours."

Despite the darkness, you held on to a glimmer of hope. You had to believe that somewhere within Wanda, the strong, independent woman you admired still existed. If you could find a way to reach her, to show her the truth, perhaps together you could break free from Natasha's control. For now, you had to survive, endure, and wait for the right moment to turn the tables on Natasha Romanoff.

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

Despite your initial resolve, Natasha's relentless conditioning eventually found your breaking point. She was a master manipulator, using a combination of psychological and physical tactics to wear you down. Isolation, sleep deprivation, and the constant pressure of her presence slowly eroded your resistance. Her voice, once a source of anger, became a guide, a comfort in the dark. She played on your fears, your loneliness, and your need for connection until you began to depend on her.

The day you broke was marked by a quiet acceptance. Natasha knew the exact moment your spirit gave in, your eyes losing that last spark of defiance. She smiled, a predatory gleam in her eyes, as she gently caressed your cheek.

"There, there," she murmured. "It's all right, Y/N. You don't have to fight anymore. You're safe now."

You nodded numbly, your world narrowing to the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand. The idea of rebellion seemed distant, almost impossible. Natasha had become your anchor, and you found a strange comfort in the structure she provided.

Natasha brought you into her fold with Wanda, and the two of you became bound by your shared dependence on her. Wanda, ever the empathetic soul, welcomed you with open arms, relieved to have someone who understood her situation. You and Wanda grew close, finding solace in each other’s company, both tethered to Natasha in your own ways.

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

Life with Natasha was a blend of affection and control. She treated both of you with a kind of twisted love, ensuring your needs were met while reinforcing her dominance. She showered you with affection, making you feel valued and cherished, but there were always rules to follow.

"Remember, my loves," Natasha would say, her voice soft but firm, "I do this to protect you. You need me, and I need you."

You and Wanda nodded obediently, grateful for her attention and care. The rules became second nature: always listen to Natasha, never leave without permission, and always show her your loyalty. The outside world faded into the background, your lives revolving around Natasha and the home she had created for you.

One evening, as you and Wanda sat together on the couch, Natasha watching with a satisfied smile, you felt a pang of contentment. Wanda leaned against you, her hand in yours, and you felt a sense of belonging you hadn't known before.

"I love you both," Natasha said, her voice filled with possessive pride. "We're a family, and I'll never let anyone come between us."

You and Wanda echoed her sentiments, your voices blending in a quiet affirmation of your bond. The outside world seemed distant, almost irrelevant. You had Natasha, and in her control, you found a strange kind of peace.

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

As time passed, the dynamics solidified. Natasha’s control was absolute, her presence a constant reminder of your dependence on her. She was careful never to show her darker tendencies outright, but the underlying threat was always there. You and Wanda followed her rules without question, your lives intertwined in a delicate balance of love and submission.

In those rare moments of clarity, you wondered what might have been if you had resisted longer, if you had found a way to free Wanda and yourself. But those thoughts were fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the reality of your situation. Natasha had molded you both into the perfect companions, reliant on her for everything, bound by a mixture of fear and affection.

And so, you stayed, locked in a dance of submission and control, your world defined by Natasha's rules and the strange, twisted love she provided.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

[nats-firefly]

look what you made me do

dark!sorority!natasha romanoff x reader

summary: she did this for you

warnings: dark fic, mentions of blood, murder, toxic behavior, stalking, power bottom!nat, strap on use, slapping, scratching, possessiveness, smut 18+

a/n: another repost, this is required reading (she's making a comeback ladies (gn))

🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩

words: 4k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

divider source | gif source

Natasha Romanoff wouldn’t call herself a possessive person. She was never one to hold on to things for a long time, or really care about them sticking around. 

Until you came around.

From the second you saw Natasha you were hooked. Her smug grin and carefree snarky attitude immediately lured you in. You’d never wanted anyone else so bad in your life, and the redhead never felt so wanted. But the feeling of wanting and being wanted was not one Natasha was familiar with. The fight between wanting to keep you to herself and her detached personality an everyday battle.

She managed it, upheld the same rules she kept with every one else with you, even though everything in her wanted to break them. Don’t spend the night, don’t let them leave a mark, don’t chase, and most important of all leave them wanting more. She was almost as obsessed with how many people chased after her than with herself. Then you came along and threatened to change that. 

She didn’t understand what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you would look for her whenever you had class together, or how if you bumped into her on campus you’d always offer to go for coffee. And that one time Natasha was cold and you offered her your jacket, that was a day she would never forget.

It was early spring and the day looked deceptively warm outside Natasha’s window. The sheer tights, miniskirt, and long sleeve in her closet almost screaming at her to be worn. It wasn’t until she was halfway across campus that she realized those were not enough layers. As if that wasn’t enough of a start to her day, some freshman on a bike almost bumped right into her, the close call sending her into the bushes and making her tights snag on the small twigs.

“Shit,” She muttered under her breath.

“Watch where you’re going, kid!” She heard your voice before she felt your hand on her lower back, her cheeks involuntarily reddening. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She reached down to where her tights were snagged, but couldn’t quite reach.

“I got it-”

“No you have to be careful, it will rip.”

“Yeah, Natasha, I got it, now stop moving,” You hand grabbed onto her thigh, the gesture somehow more intimate that any other moment you’d spent together between hickeys and clothes falling to the floor. “There you go, good as new.”

She noticed the way you stopped yourself from kissing where the twig had been. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Natasha bit her lip as she looked up at you fighting the urge to connect your lips. She had class to attend. You were just a tardy waiting to happen. “Wanna grab coffee?” 

“I-” A wind blew past the two of you, making Natasha’s words falter as goosebumps rose to her skin. “I have class.”

“Do you want my jacket?” Your question was so unexpected she didn’t even have the chance to protest before you were draping the material over her shoulders. “I’ll see you later, Nat.”

And with a kiss on the cheek you were gone and Natasha Romanoff has never been the same. Ever since she revelled in the attention you gave her, got drunk on your compliments and breathed your admiration every time you were around. She couldn’t let something so sweet get away from her.

You only wished she’d tell you. Ever time it seemed like you were one step closer to her she would take twenty steps away. You weren’t exactly fond of it but Natasha was worth playing games for. You’d be her pawn for as long as she wanted.

She couldn’t help the way her head picked up from the book she was reading in a far away corner of the library when she heard your laugh. Natasha didn’t like the way she couldn’t control the smile threatening her lips, but it quickly faded when her eyes zeroed in on where this girl - is that fucking Gen? - you were with was touching you. It was just a friendly touch on your arm but it still made the redhead sick to her stomach.

You didn’t notice her, too focused on trying to finish the project you were working on with your assigned partner Gen. The project was due the following week and the two of you had procrastinated long enough. Natasha watched you the whole time. She changed where she was sitting to behind the two of you after she had finished her work, not wanting to risk any chances of you looking up and seeing her. 

It wasn’t until the sun had set and the library was closing that you and your partner got up to leave. Natasha was already upset, watching you like a hawk. It wasn’t until you opened your mouth that she got mad.

“Do you wanna grab coffee?” She heard your voice in the distance, making her stop in her tracks. She held her arms close to her body trying to keep herself from pacing.

“It’s late, I probably shouldn’t,” She said, starting to walk away from the library. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Another touch to your arm and Natasha was on her way towards you, almost fuming. Nobody gets to touch what’s hers.

“Y/N, hey,” Her voice had no traces of anger, her hands slid up your arm to your shoulder as you turned to her, her fingers stroking the back of your neck. You smiled down at her, your hand instinctively reaching down to her waist and pulling her closer. 

“Hi Nat,” You answered. She almost purred with your hands on her. “What are you still doing on this part of campus so late?”

“I was just working late,” She said, pointing her head towards the library you were just in. “Do you wanna grab coffee?”

“I’d love to,” You said, then pulled her closer, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I have really good coffee at my place.”

“That’s funny, I was just gonna suggest we go there anyway,” She laughed, an airy gasp leaving her lips when yours touched just below her earlobe. “Do you invite all the girls you meet to your place?”

“Only the pretty ones,” You joked, pulling away from her and taking her hand. She slyly let go of it, walking alongside you in the direction to your apartment building. You lived a short walk away from campus, the whole time the two of you walked, Natasha though about all the other places Gen might have touched. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” She said, her arms snaking around yours. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into your skin. “What were you doing in the library so late?”

“Working on a project,” You answered, walking up to your building door. Natasha noticed how you failed to mention the girl. It meant you had something to hide. In reality you knew how Natasha got sometimes when you hung out with other people. You thought it was hot, you just didn’t want her to bother poor Gen. They were in the same sorority after all. And last time she saw you with another girl from her sorority she kicked her out, you never saw her again.

Natasha nodded her head, following you into the building silently watching your movements. When the two of you stepped into the elevator it wasn’t long until the redhead was pressed against the wall with your head buried in her neck. Her hands gripped your shirt while she pressed herself closer to you, only pushing you away when she felt you sucking a little too harshly.

She turned to the mirror, examining her neck and seeing a deep red fading. “What the fuck, Y/N, you know I don’t like that.”

“Right, you only like being associated with me when it’s convenient to you, must’ve forgotten.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, turning around. The elevator doors opened and you stepped out, the redhead following closely behind.

You unlocked your door, avoiding the redhead’s question. Natasha, however, was not ready to let it go. “Don’t ignore me.”

You sighed a long sigh, putting your backpack down on the floor as she walked through the door, flicking the door closed behind her. Your jaw clenched as you stood back up while Natasha walked towards you with her arms crossed in front of her chest. 

“You act like you own me, but every time I make an attempt to return the gesture you push me away, why is that?”

“Do you not like it?”

“Well if you’re gonna do that, do it like you mean it,” Your face was inches away from hers, an angry fire lit behind her eyes.

“You want me to mean it?” She asked, her hands sliding up to your neck, twirling some of the baby hairs are the bottom of your neck around her finger. 

“Yes,” You whispered, inching closer. She leaned in until your lips were mere millimeters apart. Her hand pulled your head back roughly before your felt her lips connecting to your skin. You moaned, your hands automatically finding their place on her hips and pulling her closer. 

Her teeth grazed your skin, her grip on your hair tightening before she made you look at her again. “You’re mine,” She pushed off of you and pushed you back until you fell back onto your bed. “Not anybody else’s,” She straddled your hips, grinding down on the strap between your legs. “Other people don’t get to touch what’s mine.”

“I wouldn’t want anybody else to,” You said, bucking your hips up against hers. Her hand wrapped around your throat as she leaned over you, putting more pressure against your airway. 

“Mine,” She almost growled, lifting her hips and roughly pushing off of you. You gasped, sitting up onto your elbows while you caught your breath. You watched her shimmy her underwear down her legs, quickly scrambling to take off your own. She moved forward and grabbed onto your hands, completely pulling off your pants down before crawling back onto the bed.

“Do you think she wants you?” She asked, her eyes never leaving your body on the bed as she crawled over you. “Think she wants anything more than this?” Her hand wrapped around the strap, pushing it against you. “This is all you’re worth,” She chuckled, darkly, hovering over you. “And it’s all mine.”

You don’t remember telling her you were ever with someone else, but you were too dazed to care. Her nails dug into your thighs as she lowered herself to the toy between your legs. Your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips when she took the tip of the strap past her lips. Her head bobbed up and down the length of the dildo, her cheeks hollowing out with every movement. It wasn’t long before the redhead was crawling back up your body. 

“Natasha,” You tried pleading, hand wandering her body as she positioned herself. “You- She-”

“Shut up,” She said, her hand circling back around your throat. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

She lined up the toy with her entrance, sliding the tip along her clearly dripping folds. Your hands moved to slide over the top of her thighs, fingers reaching up to her hips then sliding back down. 

“See what you do to me?” She asked, whining as the strap slid over a sensitive spot. Your lips turned up into a smirk as you gripped her hips and made her sink down onto your strap in one swift movement. “Fuck Y/N!”

You knew you had her.

“Does that feel good?” You asked, bucking up into her again. The moan she released something almost angelic. You wanted to hear it again.

She whined, rolling her hips onto yours as her hand made its way back around your throat. You felt her grip tighten as she licked a long stripe up your neck to your ear. “Do that again.”

Your hands slid around to her ass, squeezing her soft skin and moving her hips up and down your length. She moaned against your neck, her hand scratching down from your neck to the top of your shirt. You hissed when her teeth grazed the skin on your neck, knowing you’d be left with a mark there in the morning. 

“Natasha,” You groaned as she pulled away from you, moving your hips in rhythm with hers. She whined, moving her other hand to grip the top of your shirt before she ripped it open. 

“You look so hot like this,” She placed both her hands on your chest, resting her weight on top of you as she continued bouncing on the toy. “So willing to be used.”

You squeezed her hips as she leaned back, running her hands up your chest to your face. She tugged some loose strands of your har sticking to your skin back, then leaned back down to connect your lips one more time. Your hands wandered down to her ass again, making her whine against your mouth.

She ran her nails down your arms to your wrists, taking you by surprise and roughly pinning them above your head. “You’re mine to use.”

You watched her with a smug grin, loving the way her breasts bounced in her tight shirt. She moaned, a long drawn out sound as she worked herself closer to the edge. “Mine to fuck,” Her voice became airy, her head falling back as she rolled her hips onto yours. “Mine to do whatever I want with.”

She leaned back, moaning as her movements became sloppier. Her hand gripped your jaw, her grip tight as she rutted against you.

“You close?” You asked, gripping onto her hip with one hand and her arm with the other. “Why don’t you cum for me then? Make a mess for me Nat.”

“Fuck,” Natasha moaned over you, her walls tightening around the toy as she rode out her high, moaning and whimpering with your movements. You flipped the two of you over, pushing the toy into her deeper, enjoying the way her face contorted with pleasure. 

“Is that all I am to you?” You asked, face inches away from hers. You pressed your hips further into her, making her whine. “Only something to make you feel good?”

You easily slid the toy in and out of her, the toy hitting all the right spots. She picked up her head to look at you in the eyes, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yes.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back with a sigh before pulling out. Natasha whined, leaning up on her elbows with a confused expression on her face. “What?”

“Nothing,” You picked up a shirt from the floor and moved towards the bathroom. “I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, Nat.”

“Since when did that ever make a fucking difference?” She asked, moving off the bed and in front of you. She slid her shirt over her head and let her skirt drop to the floor. Your gaze lowered to her naked body, her smirk growing as you caught your lip between your teeth. “You don’t wanna fuck me anymore?”

She pressed you back against the doorframe, dipping her head into your neck and leaving a trail of small hickeys down your neck. Her hands slid down your arms and placed your hands on her hips, leaning closer to you. You could feel her slow breaths on your face, and you didn’t realize you moved forward until she was pressed against the opposite side of the door frame. 

Natasha’s smirk grew, her white teeth now peeking out from between her lips. “You don’t wanna press me up against the wall and fuck me until I can’t even think anymore?”

“I never said that,” You growled before connecting your lips again, the redhead’s hands entangling in your hair and pulling you flush against her. Your hands reached down and pulled her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. Natasha moaned, her lips trailing down your neck as you slid the toy back into her.

She moaned against your skin with ever buck of your hips, her whole body jolting with your movements. By this point in the night you didn’t even have to look in the mirror to know Natasha had littered your skin with deep bruises. She didn’t want Gen to have a single doubt in her mind, you were Natasha’s, not anybody else’s.

Natasha whined into you, hands pulling your head back to look at her. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” You watched her bounce another few times, waiting for her to become more desperate. You tilted your head, smirking when she tightened her grip on your hair and whined. “Please.”

“I’m all yours,” You said, watching her face scrunch up as her orgasm started washing over her. Natasha’s hands gripped onto your shoulders as she came for a second time, her head leaning back onto the doorframe. Your lips kissed down her neck, quickly finding her sweet spot at the corner of her jaw.

Her legs unwrapped from around your waist, your grip on her hips faltering as you slowly eased her down. Natasha pushed you away before you could leave anything permanent. She slid her hands down your chest, admiring the small bruises she left in her wake, tracing the scratches she etched onto your skin.

Natasha loved when you were like this, when your skin was covered with her. There was no way anyone would look at you snd not think you had someone you belonged to. She was pleased with her work, she doesn’t have to worry about Gen. 

—

Natasha wasn’t planning on following you into the library the next day, she really wasn’t. But you sent her a snapchat of you after you showered and she noticed some of her marks had faded faster that she would’ve hoped. She was only doing this to make sure Gen didn’t cross a line.

She watched you greet her, the same friendliness you had offered yesterday. Everything was fine until Gen stupidly decided to ask about the marks on your neck. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” You said, looking over your shoulder. Natasha wondered if you knew she was there. You didn’t, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of her eyes on you. Gen, however, seemed like she had a death wish by how insistent she was on knowing where all the hickeys came from.

“I just don’t get how you have so many, Jesus, Y/N,” Her fingers traced the ones on the side of your neck and you subtly scooted away from her.

“They’re hickeys, Gen, don’t be a fucking moron,” Natasha muttered under her breath, roughly turning the page of the textbook she was pretending to read. The redhead noticed the way you didn’t welcome Gen’s touch, the way you almost flinched away from it. Gen was about to learn an unpleasant lesson.

Whoever Natasha wants, Natasha gets. There’s no standing in her way.

—

You ended up leaving the library much later than you’d planned. Gen had to leave early, telling you she was being called into an emergency sorority meeting. You knew the drill. You knew it was her gaze you were feeling through the day. 

Poor Gen. She was nice, and she loved Tri Delta, it’s a shame Natasha would have to kick her out.

You were packing up your things when your phone buzzed with a text from Natasha. You were wondering when she was gonna text.

Come over?

You answered you’d be there soon. Natasha might be a little extreme, but just enough to keep you hooked. A sick and twisted part of you loved how she went out of her way to make sure she had you.

Because that’s the way it would always be. She had you, and would have you for as long as she wanted, but you’d never have her. Strangely, that was enough for you.

You made your way across campus to Natasha’s sorority, the usually busy campus eerily quiet at this time of the night. When you walked up to the large house, a cold chill ran down your spine, the usually buzzing mansion suspiciously quiet even for this late at night.

The strong smell of bleach was the first thing that welcomed you as you stepped through the door. You watched as two of Natasha’s sorority sisters walked down the stairs and into the kitchen with bloodied rags and a bucket. 

“What the fuck?” You somehow walked further into the house, ignoring every instinct telling you to get the fuck out of there. You spotted a pledge walking past you, her face pale as she carried a bucket of what seemed like bloodied water. 

You continued your way to the staircase, noticing the small droplets of red on the steps. Your stomach turned, wondering what in the hell could’ve happened and why there weren’t any authorities at the house.

“Maria,” You spotted the brunette wiping down the wall, small streaks of red following the rag in her hand. “What the hell happened?”

“You know how she is,” She shrugged and turned back to the wall. “Just Nat being Nat.”

Your head turned to the other end of the hallway where Natasha’s bedroom was. Your chest tightened at the heavy trail of blood leading into the room.

“It’s a shame,” You snapped back to Maria who continued to wipe the wall. “I liked Gen.” 

You swallowed hard as you took careful steps towards her bedroom, trying not to step on any of the blood. Your hands shook the closer you got to the door, having to wipe them on your pants before you entered the bedroom.

“Nat?” The redhead was straddling a body on her bed, her clothes completely drenched in blood with smudged handprints covering her chest and neck. She turned her head to look at you, roughly pulling the knife out of the unfortunate girl under her. Your eyes widened in horror when you noticed it was Gen. 

“Y/N,” Her voice was sweet, and somehow inviting. “You made it.”

“What did you do?” You walked towards Gen, but Natasha stopped you, the bloody knife pressing up against your stomach as she looked up at you. “Nat-”

“She needed to learn her lesson,” Her cold stare bore into you, invited you in, drowned you in her affection. The blade of the knife slid over your clothes before you felt the tip pressing against you. “Nobody comes between me and what I want.”

“Natasha she never did, she-”

“Shh,” The tip of the knife pressed further into you, Natasha’s free hand gripping your jaw and making you look at down at her. “She needed, to learn, her lesson.”

Your chest heaved up and down, your stomach twisting when you noticed her blood was smeared on your face now. You wanted to throw up. Natasha’s lips tugged upwards, bringing your face down closer to hers.

“It’s okay, baby,” She said, her breath brushing over your face. “There’s nothing between us now, it’s just us.” Her lips touched yours and for a moment you forgot what she had just done. “It’s just you and me now.”

It’s just you and her.

Your eyes were locked onto hers. How could someone so perfect do something like this. Gen groaned from her bed, your eyes trailing towards her. Natasha’s grip on your jaw tightened, the knuckles grabbing onto the knife turning white with rage.

“Don’t look at her,” Her voice was almost unrecognizable. “You’re mine.”

She pushed you back before moving towards Gen again. In one swift move, before you could stop her, Natasha sank the knife into the other girl’s chest. Blood spattered on your cheek, Gen’s body went limp.

Natasha turned back to you, her hands shaking and tears in her eyes as if she had just caught up to her actions. 

“All I wanted was you,” Her voice cracked. “I wanted you to myself.”

You didn’t know what you were doing, but you stepped forward and took her into your arms, her small frame shaking with her sobs. “You have me.”

“I did this for you,” She said as you both fell to your knees, Natasha almost limp in your embrace, a small smirk tugging on her lips as she nuzzled into you. “Look what you made me do.”

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your boss propositions you.

prompts. | Natasha Romanoff + CEO + “Go on. Let’s see how far you’ll make it.” + Mommy kink, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!CEO!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, power imbalance, age gap, abuse of power, threats, praise, Mommy kink, manipulation, drinking, smoking (nat), pet names, kissing, boss/employee relationship, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

You sigh as you hit ‘Save’ on your document, closing out the tab and shutting your computer down. You’re excited for the long weekend, even though you’ll waste it with binge-watching and napping. But at least you’ll have a chance to catch up on your sleep.

You turn around and take a peek into Ms. Romanoff’s office, finding that she is still there. You exhale shakily and knock on the door. She always makes you nervous—despite you being her secretary. 

“Come in!” she calls out. You push open the heavy door and let it close behind you. 

Natasha has her legs kicked up on her desk, still wearing her Louboutins. She has a cigarette between her fingers, and the smoke twirls in the air, performing a dance that nearly entices you.  

“Ms. Romanoff, I’m done for today,” you tell her, giving your boss a meek smile. She smirks and puts the cigarette out, sitting up properly. “Are you?” she asks, clearly impressed. You nod your head.

“Good girl. You’re my best employee, you know that, right?” Natasha says, and you grow warm under her praise. “Ah, thank you, Ma’am,” you hum. Your day is completely made. All you ever want to do is be good. 

“You’re welcome, honey. We’re the last ones here, aren’t we?” 

Natasha stands up and walks to her personal bar cart, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. She pours some for herself and grabs wine for you, knowing that you’re not a fan of her hard liquor. 

“Yes, ma’am. The office is completely cleared out,” you confirm. Your coworkers were more than happy to leave early, even though they know Natasha will ream their asses out in the next meeting. “Good. Have a drink with me?”

You take the offer and sit in the chair before her desk. She hands you the full glass, and you accept it gratefully. Natasha smiles and sits on the table, closer than she usually is. You’ve noticed that the last few weeks, but don’t think much of it. Perhaps she’s being friendly. You’ll take anything for a promotion.

You sip the wine, and Natasha downs her whiskey in a swift gulp, amazing you.

“You excited for the long weekend?” she asks, letting out a satisfied sigh from the alcohol. “Yep. Got lots of sleep to catch up on,” you joke. Natasha chuckles. “You work so hard,” she expresses. 

You’re not sure what to say, so you simply look down into your glass, staring at your reflection in the dark liquid.

A warm hand grabs your chin and tilts your head up. You’re forced to watch Natasha as her eyes scan your face. You feel scrutinized under her intense gaze. This isn’t right—the way she’s touching you is against company policy. Most importantly, it makes you uncomfortable, even though it feels right to some extent. 

“Let me take care of you, sweetie,” Natasha whispers, and she leans in. 

Your boss kisses you passionately, taking your breath away. In your shock, you don’t fight back until you wake up from your stupor and pull away, your drink spilling in the chaos. She gasps at your actions and looks down to where the wine stains your white blouse and grey pants.

“What are you doing?” you ask incredulously. “C’mon, don’t be like that, baby. Let Mommy take care of you,” she pushes, leaning towards you again with arms outstretched, ready to trap you in her hold. This time, you react quicker. 

You stand up and move backwards, taking multiple steps away. In your heels, you wobble. You know you won’t be able to get far, but you’ll be damned if you ever let a powerful CEO like Ms. Romanoff take advantage of you. 

“Go on. Let’s see how far you’ll make it,” Natasha smirks. Even she knows you wouldn’t stand a chance. Still, you rush to the doors and attempt to push them open, but they don’t budge. The alcohol has loosened your movements—weakened you. Your boss laughs at your attempted escape.

“You’re adorable, kitten,” she coos, walking up to you. Natasha pulls your hands away from the door. “I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth. “My name? I’d love that. Except there’s no one around to hear you,” Natasha reminds you.

Dammit. 

“I’ll file a report,” you sputter. “Cute. You think they can touch me? You’re clearly wasted. They’ll know you’re just trying to get a promotion,” Natasha cackles. Your breathing turns heavy as you realize you cannot escape this situation. “Relax, honey. Let Mommy do all the thinking,” she coaxes. 

Somehow, Natasha manages to get you to sit on her lap while she’s at her desk. You tremble the entire time and regret ever taking the job, even though she promises a huge bonus for being her good girl. 

[daddynattt]

pairing: dark natasha x innocent reader

warnings: dark nat as ghost face, nat has a penis, innocent reader, daddy kink, mirror sex, use of knife, breeding kink, mentions of blood/cutting, slight manipulation? dumbification, non-consensual at first. dark themes read at your own risk. 18+ only

You enter through the door of your apartment, locking the door and making your way into your bedroom. The room is pitch black as you enter, and before you can turn on the light, a hand instantly covers your mouth as a body presses against you from behind. Your eyes widen, your blood running cold at the thought of someone waiting in your bedroom wanting to hurt you or kidnap you. You thrash against them, but their hold on you is strong and you can’t seem to escape no matter how hard you try.

“Shhh, stop fighting me, it’s only me sweetheart, it’s Nat” your body shakes against her hold, confused on what is going on and what she is planning to do. Her hand keeps your mouth covered and you feel her other hand roaming your body. Your words are muffled against her hand as you try to speak and you’re desperate for her to let go.

“I’m going to remove my hand but if you scream I will hurt you. Nod if you understand” tears escape from the corners of your eyes as you nod your head, letting out a shaky whimper once she removes her hand.

“N-Nat… w-what are you doing? You’re scaring me” her arms are still around you and you feel her hand traveling down your shorts, your body jolting at the feeling of her fingers running through your folds, trying to remove yourself from her hold but she doesn’t let up.

“Daddy just wants to play baby. Are you going to be a good girl for me and let me touch you? God i’ve wanted you like this for so long but you’re just a dumb little innocent slut that doesn’t know anything. You look so pretty crying for me”

“Stop Natty… Please! I don’t want this” the room is still pitch black as she touches you, you’re frightened and don’t know what’s going on. Her fingers run up and down your folds gathering your juices, and she lets out a chuckle at the blatant lie.

“Seems to me you’re enjoying this very much but your dumb little brain doesn’t know that you’re just a whore for anyone to touch you down here. You’re so wet for me baby” the lights turn on and once you look in front of you, you notice the reflection in the mirror, gasping at the sight. She has a knife in her hand that you didn’t register before, and the sight of her in the mask and all black clothing she’s wearing has your body shivering in anticipation.

“W-Why do you have a knife?” you feel the tip of the blade against your neck, her head tilting to the side slowly as she looks at you through the mirror, your eyes widening in fear. (iykyk)

“Shhh baby, I won’t hurt you, not too badly at least. Be a good girl and stay still for me unless you want me to cut your pretty skin open” you hear the sound of her belt being removed, her pants being pushed down to her ankles, feeling something poke you from behind. 

“Daddy is gonna fuck you so deep with her cock you feel me for days. Been thinking about this for so long, watching you everyday, putting a camera in your bedroom, but you’re just a dumb little baby that doesn’t know what’s going on around her” she removes your shirt and bra, grabbing both your wrists together in her large hand, tying her belt around your wrists and holding them behind your back as she rubs herself on you.

“You feel how hard I am for you baby? My cock is desperate for your dripping hole” you feel her tip at your entrance, and you’re ashamed with yourself that your body is betraying you and showing signs of you enjoying this. She enters you slowly, the girth stretching your walls painfully, a thin layer of your slick coating her cock.

“Fuck little girl, your pussy is so warm and is just  squeezing me tight. Take everything I give you and say thank you to Daddy” she pushes herself in deeper, completely bottoming out inside you, and you can’t deny that the feeling is starting to become pleasurable the longer she stills inside you. 

“Nat…” she places the blade to the underside of your neck, and you gasp at the sharp blade piercing your skin.

“That’s not my name. I’ll give you one more chance to try again or my knife will draw some blood down your pretty neck and breasts and make a mess all over you”

“Daddy! ‘m sorry” she slides in and out of you at a quicker pace, your walls accepting the intrusion, your body tingling with pleasure.

“Oh God, you feel so good around me. Just wanna fuck your dirty little pussy all night and make your tummy all round with my seed, gonna cum so much inside you and give you my babies” you can’t help but to look in the mirror as she pounds you from behind, one arm holding your arms and wrists behind your back that’s tied with her belt as the other is wrapped around you with her knife pressed against your skin, the sight of your blood dripping down your body making your eyes widen.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well sweetheart, you’re nothing but a little cock whore, isn’t that right baby? Tell me” she pounds into you deeper and harder, your wrists that she has a hold on starting to hurt as she moves inside you at a relentless pace. 

“Daddy! ‘m so full. Please” you don’t know what you’re begging for, but the coil in your stomach is tightening and needs to be released. The sound of your skin slapping is heard in the air of the room, and the sight of her in the mask pounding you from behind makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, your vision turning white as you cum all over her cock, your body twitching as she continues her movements.

“Did I say you could cum you little whore? I’m going to teach you about asking for permission, but first Daddy needs to cum. Fuck, take it! Gonna breed your pretty little pussy baby” she fucks into you faster, only caring about her pleasure now, your legs shaking and your body giving out on you at the overstimulation of not fully recovering from your previous orgasm, another one quickly approaching as she uses you to her pleasure. 

“Here it comes baby, gonna cum so deep inside you, fuck, i’m coming” you feel her load shooting inside of you, activating your second orgasm, your mouth open in a silent scream as you cum for a second time, her cock sliding in and out in deep, slow strokes to prolong both your orgasms. 

“Get on your knees and clean me up, I’m not done with you just yet. You’re officially mine now”

[ahhhwomen]

Eternal Slumber.

Vampire Empire

Part 5

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: This is kinda just a filler chapter while I work on requests (if anyone else have any feel free to drop by my inbox), so it may be a little while until part 6, that being said, enjoy lovelies!

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), death, suicidal ideation  Minors DNI 18+

Summary: They say a taste of death can change a person forever. However, they never take into consideration, that maybe, that’s the only thing coating your tongue on a regular basis.

Word Count: 2k

Taglist

There are tiny spikes of ice against the metal, almost like a layer of fuzz over the orange rust. It creeps into every crevice, the metal bars groan and creak, and the water, frozen inside some of the weaker spots, bursts and tears apart the material.

The cold was affecting everything.

You stare at the metal hook responsible for keeping you in place. The concrete around it is dented and smoldering. With a microscope, it would look like a mountain falling apart. Stone by stone.

It wouldn’t take much force; you ponder if you could release it with just a weak tug. You probably could, but you don’t bother.

Your body sinks lower, and the concrete scratches against your stomach. Red welts burn in displeasure as the friction reawakens the former punishment. It’s as if the weight of your body has doubled overnight, you can’t keep yourself up.

It’s hard to breathe.

It’s hard to stay awake…

The cold was affecting everything.

Including you.

You glance out the window with meager eyes. The trees pass by faster than you can keep track. Your head pounds, and you want to rest.

Just for a moment-

A gruff voice disturbs your peace for the hundredth time.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep.”

You had been lying in your enclosure all day, preserving your movements for only necessary situations. You wanted to dream it all away, but you knew you shouldn’t.

With both your nose a fresh pink and fingertips a bleak blue there wasn’t much to do other than to study your surroundings.

Your eyes glide over the same small details you have stared at for years, though there was a beauty to your misery, every corner and prickle of this place glittered against the slim beam of light from the hallway. The golden gleam reflected like sunlight against the ice, however, where you lay chained and tense under your red lamp, it felt more like a mockery.

With a sigh, you looked over to the empty shackles, frozen to the ground opposite of you. Your muscles burn as you grip the ground firmly and attempt to lift yourself up. Your arms shake in effort, your nails grinding against the pavement, but you can only manage to push upward for less than an inch.

Then a light thud echoes as you fall back down.

You’re so tired…

Your eyes slip closed for a second, there are a select few in the hallway that whine and growl, and you try to shift your focus onto them. Their hoarse voices screech against your eardrums, and you can’t help the grim expression as you listen to their cries…

There were more yesterday…

Of course, it was a given that this place took away some hope, but you know that isn’t the reason the numbers of distain more than halved overnight.

The rag over your lower half shifts away from you with every minuscule movement, it slides against your bottom, and slowly, the grime and dirt settled within the flimsy material slather itself against you as it leaps the final length and falls off.

It’s almost as if it knows you are too tired to move it back.

You are so sick of this place.

The cries are silenced as you hear the familiar thunder of shaking keys.

With a bitter glance to the other side of the room, you pity yourself; if you had any strength left, you would wrap the chains around your neck and hang yourself.

You huff in annoyance as the redhead shakes you vigorously yet again.

You can feel a swift, but gentle, slap on the back of your head. The redhead’s hand taps against you, her palm making quick contact with the greasy hair.

At your whining Wanda voices her opinion, “Don’t start with me, I told you not to fall asleep.” The powerful woman’s annoyed voice wraps around your lingering headache. Her calm tone was more like a booming against your forehead.

Shifting under the red leather, you whimper even more. The heating blasting towards you feels strange. Hot air sifts around you, almost like a tunnel of wind directed solely at your slumped frame. A noise, a mix of a hoarse cough and a weak cry, can be heard as Wanda shifts her own heat toward you too.

Realizing you won’t back down on your bitching, Wanda retrieves her hand with a roll of her eyes and refocuses on the road in front of her.

Trees and livestock pass by in a blur, there are tiny speckles of muck and dirt against the expensive windshield. Snow sits snug in the more stubborn corner of the window, small flacks forming a pile unmovable by the front wind.

Goosebumps prickle Wanda’s skin, the bite of winter making its entrance this early must really do a number on places like the shithole you´re from.

The car lifts for a moment as one of the bumps rustles the lambo, you shrink in on yourself, your pale skin retreating to hide under red leather. The redhead’s foot pushes downward harder, the exhilarator vrooming as she frowns.  

Wanda doesn't even know what possessed her to take you, but if she left you there, you would surely be dead by the end of the day.

Natasha was always far better at understanding humans, however, given the little bond you two have, she is unsure how the other redhead will react to your current state. She glances at you in her peripheral, your lips are tinged blue, same with your fingertips and toes.

You don’t even shiver, and Wanda passes another stop sign with no regard. Shivering is a good thing; it means your body is aware you are cold. No shivering is bad, like really fucking bad.

Her hands tighten against the steering wheel, the skin between her rings and knuckles, clamp and squeeze in an irritating pinch.

It doesn’t take a genius to understand that if you aren’t yet hypothermic, it won’t be long until you are.

With a sigh, Wanda reaches over to settle the jacket more tightly around your frame.

It’s a fifteen-minute drive to the house, Wanda makes it in seven.

Natasha frowns, and the smell of burned vegetables invades her senses. With an irritated scrunch of her nose, the redhead goes to trash yet another pot of attempted soup.

The goo of estranged ingredients jiggles unsettlingly at the top of the trashcan as Natasha pours the substance out. The ring on her left pointer clinks against the pot as she places it back on the stove.

She can never get it right.

With a huff, the redhead pulls out her cell phone, her hand wraps around the silver piece and she goes to find her messages. Her thumb makes quick work of checking on Wanda yet again, the pad of her finger taps the screen rapidly, the remains of her failure smudges against the glass, and Natasha cringes.

Her unread reply to Wanda’s previous questions remains the same, wiping her hands and phone off with the kitchen rag, the redhead walks over to her preferred room of leisure.

The clacking of her heels hitting the flooring is dampened as she steps onto the carpeted part of their little den.

A soft glow illuminates the living room, and the tenseness of her shoulders lessens as she lets the orange hue wash over her.  

Plopping herself on the green couch she reaches over to her purse, the case reports she needed Wanda’s thoughts on lying on the very top. The paper brushes against her fingers, the white sheets threatening to tear as Natasha's nimble fingers search through the mess lower down.

She is just about to read them over again, when the familiar rumble of her wife’s car, pulls into their parking lot.

Shifting the gear stick, Wanda finally manages to park, your shuffling and whining had certainly not been helping. She can see her wife waiting for her by their door, but Wanda knows she is going to have to wait a moment longer.

You sit beside Wanda, your body wringing and shifting, you feel hot, and sweat rolls down your forehead.

The black belt meant to secure you through the drive feels more like a restraint as you push your shoulders against it. Bone threatens to pop out of the socket as the strong treads hold your weight back with ease, the pressure against your bruised body does little to deter you.

Wanda tusks, “Stop that.” Her hand reaches over to you and unfastens the belt, “Calm down baby, we are already here.”

Wanda pauses.

She scrunches her eyes, her left hand tightening the hold against the steering wheel.

Wanda doesn’t do nicknames, or sweet ones anyways, not unless it’s her wife.

Yet, the nickname had slipped without a second thought.

She has little time to think about it however, the sound of weak banging calls out to her, the redhead’s attention shifts and she groans in annoyance as you have now moved on to trying your luck against the metal door.

Your fingers run along the interior of the door, the pounding in your head makes it hard to see, and everything blends together in a mess of colors and sounds. You try to feel your way to the handle, but only expensive patterning can be felt as you try gripping the handle.

“You can never make it easy for me, can you kitten?” The redhead mumbles to herself.

The black tinted windows stop anyone from seeing what is happening inside Wanda’s car, but the taller woman can see Natasha shifting uneasily at how slow her usually effective wife is being.

With a sigh, Wanda rolls up the sleeves of her blouse, the silken material gliding and scrunching at the crease of her elbow.

In an attempt to settle you, if only for a moment, Wanda presses her right hand flatly against your chest. With a controlling movement, she pushes up and down to signify a breathing cycle more suitable than your erratic one.

She holds her unoccupied hand against your thigh, rubbing it up and down gently. The friction does nothing but alarm Wanda further.

Knowing she can’t turn around now, Wanda steps out of the car, your scent leaking out into the chilly wind outside their estate.

The shift in Natasha’s behavior is one not entirely surprising yet distinctively fascinating as the smell of your cold blood clings to the inside of her nose.

The taller woman moves to your side of the car; she secures you tightly in her arms. You try your best to squirm out of her hold, your hands clawing against Wanda’s covered biceps, but with how tired you are it’s little use.

You slump into the redhead’s body. Her leather jacket forces you even deeper into the scary woman’s embrace.

Realizing there is no winning this, you finally fall into the deep exhaustion that lies beneath your skin.

Natasha stands as still as a statue. Every muscle within her expands and contracts, but she can’t move.

Until she can.

At a young age she was taught that every choice one makes has consequences, every decision she has ever seen through in her life has been planned to the very tee before any move was made. She never “vamped out”, she never made a mistake, and every notion of her life was just how she planned for it to be.

Why, because Natasha knows restraint.

Your limp body lies seemingly lifelessly in Wanda’s hands.

Natasha doesn’t think.

The weight of your slim body is removed from Wanda faster than even she can comprehend, her leather jacket that was lying close to her chest, just as you were, is now gone, just like you. For a reason she cannot explain, anger bubbles beneath the exterior of the older woman as she watches Natasha carry you to the house.

With a speed unchallengeable Wanda stands just behind her wife. Her hands wringing the material in front of her in a firm grip, the black fabric is soft inside her clutch.

Holding her back by her jacket Wanda questions her wife, “What are you doing?” her anger lingers within her tone.

Enough so that any other day Natasha would stop dead in her tracks, today, however, was not one of those days.

The thick fabric of Natasha’s suit slips from nimble fingers as Natasha rips herself away from the redhead. With a blank face, she turns toward her wife, two prominent canines peeking out between soft lips.

“She is freezing to death.”

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