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just-aake · 8 months ago

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Boundless Devotion - Part XV (Final)

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Words: 8179

It’s difficult to know how much time has passed when you’re trapped within your own mind.

One moment, you’re glaring at the one who you once believed was your father, wishing for his downfall.

The next, you’re falling into the eyes of the one who holds your heart, all while gripping a dagger aimed at hers.

The lost time spent drifting between reality and darkness always leaves you with a sense of helplessness, especially when you later awaken to discover the actions you took during that time, actions that still haunt you.

Your current condition feels similar to that feeling of being trapped, except, unfortunately, this experience is far more agonizing.

With each passing moment, every part of you aches, both mentally and physically.

The sensation only seems to intensify, worsening to where it feels as though your entire body is engulfed in flames, burning from the inside out. Even the simple act of breathing becomes a challenge, let alone attempting to move.

At times, the overwhelming agony drains you to the point where your weary mind is tempted to just surrender to the dark void at the edge of your consciousness, promising relief.

But then a voice breaks through amidst all of the pain, calling your name in desperate pleading.

Though your tired mind struggles to place the voice in the moment, it feels familiar.

There's something about it that warms your heart, making you forget about the pain even if only for a fleeting moment.

The devastation in their tone is the reason you find the sudden need within you to push through the agony, if only to help alleviate the sadness in their voice.

And so, that's what you decide to do.

You endure, and you stay.

Gradually, it starts getting better. The pain lessens along with fewer waves of feverish sensations coursing through your body.

Eventually, you hear other voices too, all familiar and all concerned for you. And as your mind slowly recovers from the fog of pain, it begins to piece those voices with their respective owners.

Wanda and Pietro

Yelena and Kate

Carol

Even Queen Melina

Ironically, the one voice you hear the most, always a constant source of comfort and peace at your side, is the one that proves the most challenging to place.

Frustrated at the mystery of this person, you eventually gather enough strength one day to will your mind to wake up, determined to finally discover their identity.

Slowly, your eyes open, and after a few blinks, your vision clears.

The first thing you realize is that you’re not in your room, but the surroundings look familiar. With a dull ache on your stomach, you opt to turn your head instead to survey the rest of the area.

As your gaze falls upon the sleeping figure by the window, illuminated by the afternoon sun casting a warm glow on her red hair, memories flood back, and you finally recall the owner of that elusive voice.

Natasha

With her eyes closed, the princess sits in her window seat facing you, her head resting on her hand against her bent knee.

The realization that she must have fallen asleep, likely exhausted from watching over you, causes a sad bittersweet feeling to form in your heart.

Glancing around once more, you take in Natasha’s bedroom, a place you haven’t visited in a while since before everything that had happened last year.

Despite subtle changes in details, everything remains mostly unchanged. Her swords and armor hang securely on the wall, and her shelves are lined with books and personal items that she treasured through the years.

On her desk, a small stack of papers awaits her attention, likely documents of the kingdom needing review, and adjacent to them sits a tray of obviously untouched food.

You frown at the sight, aware of Natasha’s tendency to neglect meals whenever she’s stressed or too busy.

Returning your gaze to her, you notice the dark circles under her eyes, deepening your frown and concern.

Intending to call out to her and urge her to rest in her bed, you open your mouth, but your parched throat betrays you, plunging you into a painful fit of coughing instead.

Natasha’s eyes snap open instantly, her body tensing in alertness as she searches the room, before locking onto you in realization.

She swiftly rises from the window seat and approaches the edges of the bed where you lie, her hand reaching out to comfort you but then she stops in hesitation just before she touches you.

As you regain your breath, you notice her hand clench with nervous energy before slowly withdrawing to her side.

Summoning your strength, you reach out and grasp her hand firmly, not letting her go far, as you intertwine your fingers and rest them atop the bed.

You nod toward the bed, silently urging her to stay by your side.

Natasha's tense posture relaxes at your gesture, and a faint, relieved smile forms on her lips as she takes a seat at the edge of the bed. She reaches for the cup on the nightstand, bringing it to your lips and helping you take a sip, soothing your parched throat.

In a whisper so soft as if afraid to break the moment with you, Natasha asks, "How are you feeling?"

“Sore,” you respond honestly, your voice still strained.

A flash of regret flickers across Natasha’s face as she looks towards your injury. Not wanting her to spiral into guilt over what happened, you tug on her clasped hand to bring her attention back to you.

“Can you help me sit up?” you ask, determination in your tone as you release her hand and prepare to push yourself upright.

“You really shouldn’t be moving right now,” Natasha cautions, her hands hovering tentatively in concern.

“I know, but I want to,” you insist.

The thought of continuing to lie helplessly on your back, a sight that likely tormented Natasha during your time of unconsciousness, doesn’t sit well with you.

You want to reassure her that you’re feeling better than your previously weakened state.

Natasha hesitates, torn between honoring your request or prioritizing your well-being. However, she comes to a decision when she sees the determined look on your face.

“You’re so stubborn,” she remarks with a gentle shake of her head, a hint of fondness in her voice, as her hands move to support you carefully in sitting up against the headboard.

“Takes one to know one,” you tease lightly, offering a small smile as you lean back, taking a moment to catch your breath.

A comfortable silence settles between you as you stare up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Memories flood back, and you distinctly recall Natasha’s anguished face above you before darkness consumed your vision.

Your smile drops slightly at the memory, and with a tired sigh, you turn to meet her patient gaze, breaking the silence.

“How long was I out for?” you ask softly.

“Three days,” Natasha responds gently.

Processing the information, disappointment washes over you as you realize what was supposed to have taken place yesterday.

“Your coronation…I missed it,” you say sadly.

Natasha chuckles softly, shaking her head in disbelief at your priority.

“No, you didn’t,” she reassures. “I’m not the queen yet.”

At your confused expression, Natasha continues her explanation.

“I postponed it. And before you say I didn’t have to, you know that there was no way I would have gone through with it without having you there.”

“Besides,” Natasha adds with a playful smirk. “Staying by your side is always better than any kind of event, even if it’s my coronation.”

Her comment lightens the somber atmosphere, drawing a small laugh from you, which makes her grin in turn.

The action causes a dull ache to appear at your side, and unconsciously, your hand moves to brush against the bandages covering where the blade had pierced you, reminding you of your ordeal.

“So what happened after…” you trail off, unable to voice the memory.

Natasha's gaze shifts sadly to your wounded area as she begins to explain.

"Yelena arrived with the physician shortly after. They tended to Pietro and you," she recounts. "Meanwhile, Kate stayed at her manor to apprehend the attackers and helped Wanda to recover."

Concern flickers in your eyes, prompting Natasha to offer a reassuring grin.

"Don't worry, Wanda's fine. She just tired herself out when she took down Rumlow and his followers.”

At your puzzled expression, Natasha moves her hand pointedly, mirroring the similar action of Wanda’s whenever she uses her powers.

“Oh,” you say, at a loss for words in realization.

Natasha chuckles at your expression, raising her brows at you.

“You did say she had a special way with people.”

Sighing worriedly, you explain your reasoning for keeping Wanda’s abilities a secret.

“You know how some people are towards magic, Natasha.”

“Well, considering she saved our lives, I’ll make sure no one messes with her, though I’m sure she can protect herself just fine.”

You let out a small breath of relief at her reassurance before inquiring further, “What about everyone else?”

Natasha tilts her head in thought as she continues to recount the events afterward.

“Clint was able to warn my dad, Steve, and Carol in time to capture the ones under control here in the castle. And as for the ones that went after my mom…”

She lets out an exasperated sigh before continuing, “...let’s just say that they shouldn’t have attacked her in her lab when she was in the middle of mixing certain chemicals and powders.”

You chuckle lightly at the thought, knowing about Queen Melina’s tendency to cause explosions in her lab during her experiments.

However, the mention of explosions brings a grim reminder of another figure Natasha hasn't mentioned yet.

“And Dreykov?” you ask cautiously. “Did he escape?”

Natasha's hand clench into a fist at his name, her expression clouding with silent fury.

"No, he's currently in prison, awaiting trial. Along with the rest of the traitors," she responds, shaking her head with resolve.

Taking your hand in a reassuring grip, she adds, "But you don't need to worry about him. I won't let him hurt you ever again."

Natasha lifts your hand to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your skin.

“I promise.”

You offer her a grateful smile, relieved at the information.

However, a sense of resignation settles in as you prepare to bring up the next topic.

“I guess all that’s left is to decide what to do about me,” you say with a heavy sigh.

Natasha tightens her grip on your hand as she urges gently, "Just concentrate on getting better.”

You chuckle lightly before your expression turns somber as you clarify.

"No, I mean about me being the Stark princess."

An awkward silence descends in the air, both of you acutely aware of the weight of the decision looming over you.

As much as you dislike it, the reality of your identity remains, and you need to officially address its involvement in your future eventually.

“What do you want to do?” Natasha finally asks, breaking the silence.

You contemplate your options and remember your conversation with Bucky, finding that your feelings about your decision remain unchanged even now.

"Honestly, Natasha, I want to just leave it in the past," you admit. "Everything's relatively peaceful between the kingdoms at the moment. What's the point in bringing up troubling revelations from mistakes in the past?"

“Are you sure?” Natasha questions in concern before pointing out. “You’re essentially rejecting your title as a princess.”

You nod, giving her a content smile.

"I've never needed it in my life before,” you say as you tilt your head at her in question, a hint of warmth in your voice as you ask, “Besides, I already have a princess in my life, don't I?”

Natasha returns your gaze with an affectionate smile before intertwining your hands together.

"Yeah, I'm yours," she affirms softly.

Gradually, you feel more strength returning to your body as you remain awake, nodding confidently as you adjust your position carefully.

"I think I'm feeling better enough to go back to my manor this evening," you observe, suggesting, "If you could have the twins come and help me, then you can finally get a proper night's sleep in your own bed tonight."

Before you can sit up any further, Natasha’s hand moves to your shoulder, gently holding you in place, her expression filled with disbelief.

Glancing at her hand, you give her a questioning look, causing Natasha to shake her head exasperatedly.

"If you think you're going to leave this bed anytime soon, especially after being stabbed for my sake, you need to think again," Natasha says firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Meeting her gaze, you both engage in a standoff, locked in a silent challenge. After a moment, Natasha raises her brow at you.

“If the situation was reversed, would you let me move?” she asks pointedly.

You open your mouth to reply before deflating in resignation, knowing you would do the same as her if you were in her position.

“Fine,” you concede, though a small pout forms on your lips, before adding, “But I should still return your bed to you and move into one of the guest rooms.”

Natasha tilts her head in thought as she traces a pattern on the blanket on your lap before commenting.

"Is that really necessary? It's not like we haven't slept in the same bed before," she reasons, her tone light.

Then, with a teasing smirk, she adds, "Unless this is your way of avoiding me after I confessed that I love you."

You pause, taken aback by her casual declaration, and you feel your cheeks heating up as you finally process her words.

When you see the victorious smirk on her face, you roll your eyes and shake your head, giving her a chatising look.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, frustration evident in your tone, though there's a hint of fondness.

“I believe you’ve always called me charming,” Natasha retorts, her smirk widening.

Frustrated, your hands grip the collar of her tunic tightly, pulling her closer to you.

"Natasha Alianovna Romanov," you begin, your voice tinged with both exasperation and affection.

She smirks, amusement dancing in her eyes as she catches herself with her hands against the bed on each side of you, encasing you between her arms.

Gazing at you with a teasing expression, she prompts, "Yes?"

With a small smile, you finally gather the courage to voice the words you've been longing to tell her.

"I'm in love with you," you confess softly, your heart pounding in your chest.

"That's good..." Natasha replies, her voice tender as she leans in closer, "...cause I'm deeply in love with you too."

Her words brush against your lips softly, and without hesitation, you tug her closer, closing the tiny distance between the two of you.

The kiss feels both new and familiar, a perfect blend of passion and tenderness, as you lose yourself in the moment, savoring the warmth of her lips against yours.

Natasha is the one who pulls back first, resting her forehead against yours and letting out a happy sigh.

"You have no idea how many times I've wanted to do that," she admits, her voice filled with sincere longing.

Unconsciously, you lightly bite your lip to keep the warmth and feeling of her there for a little longer, before noticing Natasha's gaze drifting down to the subtle movement.

You recall the countless times you've witnessed that look of desire in her eyes, prompting a small chuckle to escape your lips as you pull her in closer.

"I think I do," you tease, brushing lightly against her lips. "You're not exactly subtle, princess."

Natasha lets out a tiny huff, her lips curving into a playful smile before she leans in for another kiss and then another, each one gentle and delicate, never leaving your lips for more than a second, as she steals your breath away and makes you melt against her.

Your hand, still lingering on her collar, instinctively seeks more contact, slipping beneath the thin layer of her clothing to clutch at her bare shoulder.

The warmth of her skin beneath your touch only intensifies the longing between you as you try to pull her closer.

As you go to deepen the kiss, the moment is suddenly shattered by an unexpected interruption.

“Oh my—Nat! Let her breathe! She just woke up!”

Startled, you pull back from Natasha, breaking the kiss, as your gaze shifts to the doorway where Yelena and Kate stand.

Natasha groans in frustration, her head falling against your shoulder.

Kate quickly steps in to cover Yelena's mouth, offering you an apologetic expression.

"Sorry! We just wanted to check on you two. We didn't mean to interrupt," she explains, as Yelena’s objection is muffled behind her hand.

Still pressed against your neck, Natasha responds in an annoyed tone, "Then leave."

Yelena rolls her eyes at her sister's bluntness, pulling Kate's hand away to respond, "Alright, alright, we get it."

With a warm smile directed at you, Yelena adds, "It's good to see you awake, Y/n."

"Yeah, we're glad that you're okay," Kate chimes in, relief evident in her eyes.

You offer them both a grateful nod. "Thank you two for coming."

“I guess we’ll visit you later then,” Yelena remarks, moving to take Kate's arm and guide her away from the door.

As Kate closes the door behind them, you catch snippets of their conversation.

"Should we really, though?" Kate's voice holds a hint of hesitation. "I don't want to interrupt them again while they're...you know."

Yelena hums thoughtfully before responding, "I mean it's a good thing we did this time, or else Y/n would have probably pulled out her stitches trying to undress Natasha."

Your face flushes with embarrassment as you instinctively cover it with your hands, feeling a wave of mortification wash over you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, adjusting her tunic as she shoots you a playful smirk, a teasing glint dancing in her eyes.

“Don’t even start,” you warn, noticing her mischievous expression.

Natasha holds up her hands innocently, adopting a nonchalant tone as she suggests, "I was just going to say we should have the physician come and check your condition."

She then adds with a teasing edge, "After all, you may have overexerted yourself from being so eager to kiss me."

You huff in disbelief, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her.

"I'm the eager one?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your tone.

Natasha nods with mock seriousness.

"If you say so."

Rolling your eyes, you playfully swat at her shoulder, then turn away with a small pout.

"In all seriousness, though, let me go get the physician," Natasha says, amusement evident in her voice at your behavior.

As she turns to leave, you call out to her.

"Wait, Natasha.”

She turns back to face you, curiosity in her eyes.

Leaning forward, you catch her off guard with a surprise kiss before pulling away.

"...okay, now you can go," you whisper against her lips.

Natasha's eyes fluttered closed at the unexpected contact, her tongue lightly tracing where your lips touched hers. When she finally opens her eyes again, they seem impossibly darker, filled with a mixture of desire and love that makes your breath catch.

“That’s unfair,” she breathes out, her voice husky with desire. “…doing that just as I’m about to leave.”

You pull away slightly, only for her to follow, not allowing the distance between you two to grow. A sly, knowing grin spreads across your face as you tease her.

"I just wanted to see who between us is actually the one who's more eager."

"I'm your princess, yet you're teasing me like this," Natasha says playfully, feigning disbelief.

"And you still love me anyway," you point out, a fond smile playing on your lips.

Natasha's eyes soften, and she closes the distance between you once more, whispering her next words against your lips.

“Yeah, I do.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Upon hearing that you were awake, Wanda and Pietro arrived quickly just as the physician was assessing your condition.

Soon after, a request from her mother to speak with Natasha in private causes her to leave the twins in charge of watching over you at your insistence.

Now, Natasha stands in her private study, a deep frown creasing her forehead as she examines the letters that her mother had handed to her.

“What is this?” Natasha asks, her voice steady but laced with a subtle hint of anger as she reads the contents of some of the letters.

Melina lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples as if trying to ward off an impending headache, knowing that her daughter won't take the news well.

“Many of the heads of the other noble houses in the kingdom are asking for Lord Dreykov’s release,” she reveals grimly.

“He tried to kill me,” Natasha states incredulously. “And yet they’re still defending him.”

“I warned you that Lord Dreykov is influential among the other nobles. You need strong evidence if you want people to turn their back on him,” her mother reminds her.

She then places a stack of documents on the desk, and Natasha quickly realizes that these are the results of Steve’s investigation.

Her mother continues her lecture, as Natasha skims the contents.

“The staff from the Bishop manor provided witness accounts of Lord Rumlow and the others' betrayal, but there were no witnesses at Dreykov’s manor besides you and Y/n.”

“What about his guards?” Natasha suggests.

Melina shakes her head grimly. “Found dead in their cells by unknown means.”

“What about Barnes?” Natasha points out the presence of the old captain.

Melina gives her a look of disbelief, raising an eyebrow.

“The other nobles are not going to believe the words of a known criminal.”

Frustration and disbelief cloud Natasha's expression as she processes the information. She searches for another angle, another way to bring Dreykov to justice.

“If we can’t prove attempted murder against me, then what about the fact that he almost killed Y/n?”

Melina grimaces, her reluctance evident in her expression as she braces herself to deliver the answer Natasha doesn't want to hear.

“What is it?” Natasha presses, her tone betraying a hint of impatience.

Melina taps the stack of letters pointedly before explaining, “Many argue that Dreykov’s actions against Y/n are akin to a father disciplining their child and is not a crime, especially considering she survived. They believe it's a family matter that should be resolved within the respective house and not involve any others.”

Natasha's frown deepens as she hears this, her hand tightening around the letters.

“I told you handling the relationships between the nobles of the court is delicate work,” Melina reminds her gently.

“Yeah, I’m starting to see what you mean,” Natasha concedes, her expression resigned in anger at the twisted parts of the kingdom.

Melina offers a comforting gesture, placing a hand on Natasha's shoulder and giving her a proud look.

“Don’t worry, Natasha. Lord Dreykov can still be forced to face trial if you want. And I’m confident that you can convince the others to be on your side. In this matter and the future.”

Her mother’s encouragement does little to ease Natasha’s mind of the difficult task ahead for her once she becomes the queen.

Despite the troubling news, Natasha still thanks her mother for the warning before taking her leave.

Returning to your side, Natasha finds you resting once again, exhaustion evident in your features. She watches you with a tender and affectionate gaze, remembering her promise to protect you from any further harm.

If there's one thing Natasha is certain of for the future, it's her unwavering commitment to fulfilling her vow to protect you.

With that resolve in mind, she later finds herself standing at the entrance of the most secure cell in prison, her arms crossed as she fixes a steely glare on the person seated in the shadows.

"Well?" Dreykov's voice cuts through the stillness of the chamber. “Is that girl dead yet?”

Natasha's jaw clenches at his callous words, refusing to be baited by his cruelty.

A click of his tongue signals his understanding before he speaks again, his tone laced with a hint of mockery.

“No, you wouldn’t let that happen. So, then, are you here to finish what you started?”

Dreykov's eyes finally meet hers, his form emerging from the darkness as he tilts his head, his injuries still evident in the flickering light.

His face bears the remnants of bruises, one eye swollen shut—a testament to the beating Natasha had inflicted upon him when she first learned of the severity and uncertainty of your condition from the physician.

Unconsciously, Natasha's hands clench into fists, the memory of her rage surfacing as she recalls the moment she unleashed her fury upon him, her knuckles bruising and bleeding until Yelena intervened to pull her away.

Dreykov catches her movement, a knowing glint in his eyes as a smirk tug at the corners of his lips.

“I see, so you’re mad because you can’t kill me,” he says confidently, accurately guessing her current predicament. “Tell me, how many of the other nobles have interceded for my release?”

Natasha grits her teeth in irritation at the extent of Dreykov's influence over the court and the fact he already knows that some nobles would rally to his defense.

“They’ll abandon you once they realize what sort of person you truly are,” she retorts, her tone firm.

Dreykov chuckles in amusement, unfazed by her words.

“Feeling pressured already?” he taunts. “It’s just going to get worse from here on. After all, I’m not the only one in this kingdom who wants a war.”

“And you already know that I would never let that happen,” Natasha counters, her voice tinged with resolve. “That’s the whole reason why you didn’t want me as the queen in the first place.”

Dreykov eyes her critically, considering her words before a smirk dances across his lips.

“Perhaps I was wrong about you. You have potential. You just need the right…” he waves his hand dramatically. “…motivation.”

Rolling her eyes at his attempt at manipulation, Natasha turns to leave.

However, before she can reach the exit, Dreykov's voice calls out to her, stopping her in her tracks.

“Do you know what causes war the most, Your Highness? More than greed or vengeance?”

Natasha turns back to glare at him, irritated by his continued insinuations.

At her silence, he answers his own question.

“Love,” he spits out the word in disgust. “Such a foolish emotion, but you’d be surprised at how much destruction it can cause.”

He raises his brow at her, gesturing pointedly. “And it seems you have plenty for that pathetic girl.”

Natasha slams her fist against the bars, anger erupting, as she glares daggers at him.

“You better hope you don’t get to leave this cell, Dreykov. Because if I ever see you free…” she pauses, her voice lowering to a dangerous tone. “…I’ll kill you myself.”

Despite her threat, a pleased smile forms on Dreykov’s face, as if her words confirmed something for him, infuriating her further.

Turning swiftly to the door, Natasha indicates to the guards to let her out, but Dreykov's voice interrupts her again.

“I do have one more question for you.”

The door opens for her to leave as he continues.

“If that girl ever ends up in the way of you and your so-called peace, would you still choose to avoid war then…or would you fight for her?”

Natasha clenches her hand, finding herself unable to respond, her mind consumed by the weight of his words.

With a determined look, she decides not to entertain his question further, swiftly leaving the cell and slamming the door shut behind her.

“I look forward to seeing what your choice would be when that time comes, Your Majesty,” Dreykov's voice echoes tauntingly down the corridor as Natasha makes her way back to you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The unsettling exchange with Dreykov from that night a week ago still lingers in her mind as Natasha sits at her desk, lost in thought.

She ponders his cryptic words, bothered by his confidence that trouble was coming, and especially at the implication of having you in the middle of it all.

Her main concern is for your safety, prompting her to consider every possible scenario where you might be at risk.

After all, she had come dangerously close to losing you during the recent conflict, a thought that sends a shiver down her spine every time.

Leaning back in her chair, Natasha’s gaze falls on the small opened box resting on her desk, illuminated by the soft moonlight filtering through the window.

The red gemstone embedded in the golden band glimmers with a silent promise, one that she hasn’t dared to ask you yet.

Pushing aside the unsettling thoughts of Dreykov's words, Natasha closes the lid of the box with a gentle sigh, tucking it away in the drawer for safekeeping.

One day, she promises.

When she can guarantee your safety and ensure that she can provide you with a peaceful future, she’ll give it to you then.

A knock at her door draws her attention, and Natasha looks up to see you poking your head inside, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

"Don’t tell me you’re hiding already?" you tease, your voice laced with amusement.

Natasha's lips curve into a fond smile at the sight of you, her worries momentarily pushed aside by your presence.

Chuckling softly, she shakes her head before asking, “Did my mother send you?”

“She wanted me to make sure you wouldn’t be late,” you reply, walking over to her with cautious steps, mindful of your injury.

Leaning back against her desk, you give her a pointed look.

“After all, it’s your last ball as the princess before you become the queen tomorrow.”

Natasha smiles gently at the reminder before glancing down at the area of your dress where she knows the bandages are hiding underneath. Her expression softens with concern as she meets your eyes.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Better,” you assure her. “I’ve been able to move around by myself without any help.”

Standing up, Natasha intertwines her fingers with yours, drawing you closer as she gazes at you.

“You look beautiful,” she compliments softly, her eyes reflecting genuine admiration.

“So do you,” you respond, your hand reaching up to gently brush against her cheek, slowly losing yourself in her gaze.

Then as if remembering your original goal, you clear your throat and nod towards the door.

“We should go. Your mother’s expecting us,” you remind her.

At your suggestion, Natasha moves closer to you, enclosing you between the desk and her body.

“I’m sure we can spare a couple of minutes, can’t we?” she asks, her voice lowering suggestively, caressing the air as she leans in.

Raising a brow skeptically, you tilt your head slightly, your lips barely grazing hers as you ask, “Only a couple of minutes?”

The moment your lips touch hers, Natasha's eyes darken with desire, her breath catching in her throat.

Absentmindedly humming in agreement, she whispers, “…yeah, just a couple…” before closing the distance between you.

Arriving at the ball later than expected, you and Natasha are greeted by her mother at the entrance, who gives you both a reprimanding yet knowing look.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, offering her a genuinely apologetic expression. “We lost track of time talking.”

Melina raises her hand in a stopping gesture at your explanation.

“No, don’t apologize, Y/n. I’m sure I can guess what happened,” she says, shooting a pointed glare at her daughter before turning her attention back to you.

“Would you mind giving us a moment alone?”

You nod in understanding, softly excusing yourself.

Natasha brings the back of your hand up for a gentle kiss goodbye before releasing it, and you turn to leave the two women to their private conversation.

“Hold on, Y/n,” Melina calls out to you before you can go too far.

Stepping up to you, Melina carefully examines you before adjusting the strap of your dress on your shoulder slightly.

“Do try to direct Natasha to a less visible area the next time you two decide to ‘talk’,” she advises with a raised brow.

A flush spreads across your face in realization, and you quickly place your hand atop the area she adjusted, before giving a reprimanding look to Natasha, who looks away, barely concealing the satisfied grin playing on her lips.

You offer a quick, polite thanks before swiftly making your exit, eager to leave the embarrassing situation behind.

Turning back to her daughter, Melina meets her gaze with a raised brow.

“I guess it’s safe to say that your relationship with Y/n is still going well?”

Natasha smiles softly at her observation, her eyes still following you as you go to join the others.

“Yeah, it is,” she replies honestly.

“That’s good,” Melina comments, handing her a cup before taking a sip of her own. “It’s important to show the other nobles how good the two of you are together so that they can have more confidence in the future with you as the ruler.”

Natasha nods in understanding, taking a sip of her drink in preparation for another lecture from her mother.

“Even if your relationship started as a ruse in the beginning,” her mother adds nonchalantly.

Natasha chokes on her drink in surprise at her mother’s words, coughing lightly as she gives her an incredulous look.

Melina raises a brow at her in challenge, daring her to deny her claim.

Looking away, Natasha glances over to where you are, oblivious to you and her arrangement being revealed at the moment.

As if feeling her eyes on you, you glance up, meeting her eyes and giving her a soft smile. She returns it before returning her focus to her mother.

Knowing there’s no point in trying to convince her mother otherwise, Natasha asks instead, “When did you figure it out?”

“Oh, I’ve had my suspicions since the beginning,” her mother reveals, swirling the contents of her cup in thought as she recalls how the events all started.

“That morning, Y/n mentioned in passing about her meeting with Lady Maria as a potential partner, so I knew I had to do something to make you act.”

Natasha's brows furrow as she pieces together her mother's words with her own memories. She was right to think it was odd that her mother would suddenly take an interest in her love life, especially with such a ridiculous ultimatum given in such a short time.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Natasha interjects, holding up her hand as she processes the information. “You're saying the only reason you pressured me to find someone was because you found out about Y/n’s date with Lady Maria?”

Melina nods before offering Natasha a sympathetic pat on her back.

“Let’s be honest, Natasha, you can be quite oblivious when it comes to your feelings for Y/n. I only pushed you to pay more attention to your love life because I didn’t want you to miss your chance with her.”

“No, you said that if I didn’t find someone, you were going to choose someone for me,” Natasha reminds her mother, her tone tinged with frustration.

Melina waves her hand dismissively.

“I was confident that you would come up with something before it ever got to that point, and you did. This charade that the two of you concocted worked out much better in the end, wouldn’t you agree?”

Natasha gapes at her mother, blinking in disbelief. She pinches her brows, feeling a headache forming at her mother’s antics.

“Please, go meddle with someone else's love life,” Natasha pleads, her patience wearing thin.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Natasha,” she says, chuckling, before pressing on, undeterred by her daughter's exasperation. “Now, tell me, have you thought of a plan on how to propose to Y/n yet?”

Meanwhile, after leaving Natasha with her mother, you join the pair at one side of the ballroom. Stepping in front of the twins with a warm smile, you admire their new formal clothing that you had arranged for them to attend the event.

“Well, don’t you two look beautiful and dashing?” you compliment, ruffling Pietro’s hair playfully. He swats at your hand lightly with a pout, then tugs at the collar of his shirt.

“I think you and Wanda are just trying to choke me in this,” he comments.

A red mist envelopes his topmost button and undoes it, granting him some relief.

“Better?” Wanda asks, returning her hand to cross her arms at her brother’s exaggerated behavior.

“Yes, I can actually breathe now,” Pietro responds with a teasing smirk, nudging his sister in thanks.

At the corner of your eye, you notice some nobles nearby shooting disapproving glares at your group, their attention mostly focused on Wanda, and then they begin to speak to each other, their voices intentionally loud.

“So disgraceful that they allow such people in here.”

“Did you see her eyes? They say it’s red like a demon.”

Pietro scowls at their words, moving protectively in front of his sister, but you stop him before he could confront them.

Then placing a comforting hand on Wanda’s shoulder, you check up on her. She gives you a reassuring smile, truly unbothered by their harsh words.

You’re glad to see her adjusting okay to the fact that her powers are now known by others in the kingdom.

Still, you will not stand idly and let them talk about people you care about like that. The twins may not be in a position to say anything, but you can always defend and protect them.

Before you can confront the rude nobles, however, they are suddenly pushed off balance, stumbling to the ground, as the pair of canines rush through their legs towards you.

Their respective owners follow swiftly after them, with the younger princess giving the people a glare and challenging look, causing them to avert their gaze in embarrassment, looking elsewhere.

Yelena turns to your group with a satisfied grin.

“Don’t mind them, Wanda. They’re always judging everyone,” she says.

Kate nods in agreement, adding, “Yeah, intolerant people like them are not worth your time. There’s plenty of people in the kingdom who already know you’re amazing.”

Pietro chuckles and places his hand atop his sister’s head teasingly, remarking, “Careful with the compliments now, we wouldn’t want her getting a big head.”

Wanda rolls her eyes in response, shoving his arm off and commenting pointedly, “Your head is already big enough for the both of us.”

As the four of them continue their playful conversations, your eyes spot a familiar face hovering in the shadows at the edge of the ballroom.

Excusing yourself, you make your way over to the lone captain.

“Not one for parties?” you ask as you step up next to Bucky.

He sighs and shakes his head as he observes the surrounding guests joyfully engaged in celebration.

“It’s been a while since I attended events like these, but then again, I’ve never enjoyed them before anyway,” he admits.

Curious about something that you’ve been wondering about him, you finally ask.

“Why did you decide to come to this kingdom? You know, after hiding away for so long.”

A silence follows, and just as you think he’s going to leave your question unanswered, he finally responds, nodding toward the distance.

“To visit a friend.”

You follow Bucky’s gaze and realize he’s looking at Steve, who’s currently in conversation with Clint and Maria.

As if feeling your eyes, Steve glances up toward your direction, giving you two a welcoming smile and waving his hand in invitation.

A small smile forms on Bucky’s face, surprising you, and you find yourself asking curiously, “Then why not just stay? Enjoy life without constantly looking over your shoulder for danger and having to run away.”

He chuckles ruefully, giving you a look of disbelief.

“I’m the most wanted criminal of the Stark Kingdom. Nowhere is safe for me or for those who help me.”

“Well, at least consider the option,” you say, nudging him gently and giving him a pointed look. “Because you do have more than one friend here.”

He examines you carefully before giving you a silent, noncommittal nod, and you understand that this will be the most you’ll get from him.

“Y/n!”

At the call of your name, you turn to see Carol coming towards you. As you turn back around to excuse yourself, you're not surprised to find Bucky has sneaked away.

Carol stops in front of you, the happy smile fading slightly into a serious expression as she examines you critically.

"How are you feeling?" she asks with genuine concern.

The familiarity in her question makes you laugh lightly as you shake your head.

“You and Natasha. Why do you two keep asking me that?”

Carol raises an amused brow at you.

"It's because we both care about you, Y/n," she answers softly before tilting her head in thought.

"Maybe the fact we both like the same things is why we're always competing with each other," she muses aloud before extending her hand in invitation.

"Speaking of, would you like to join me for one dance before Natasha decides to keep you all to herself?"

You give her a playful warning look, raising your brow at her.

"No extravagant twirling, lifts, or dips?" you ask, knowing her tendencies.

Carol nods in reassurance, answering firmly, "I promise."

As she leads you in a slow dance, keeping an easy pace to avoid tiring you, you seize the moment to ask her something.

“Are you leaving after the coronation tomorrow?”

Carol nods in confirmation.

“That’s the plan,” she responds. “I want to do as much exploring as I can before my own coronation.”

A tiny, sad smile forms on your face at Carol's words. You've honestly missed her since she started her travels. Poking her pointedly, you give her a serious expression.

"Still, you should come visit more often," you tell her.

Her eyes soften, and she gives you a small nod.

“For you, I will,” she says, a hint of affection slipping into her tone. "If you ever need anything, Y/n, just let me know, and I’ll have my ship practically fly back to you."

Her eyes glance at something behind you before she shrugs, adding with a sigh, “And I guess the same applies to Natasha if she ever needs my help again.”

“How generous,” Natasha remarks dryly, her voice tinged with sarcasm, as she comes to a stop beside you.

Carol gives you a small bow in thanks, her expression teasing as she remarks, “Looks like my time’s up.”

“Natasha,” she greets, giving her an acknowledging nod.

Natasha returns the sentiment, her demeanor cool as she replies, “Carol.”

Carol gives you one last smile, before pressing a chaste kiss on your hand goodbye and whispering sincerely, “Be happy, Y/n.”

As she leaves, you glance at Natasha and notice the small displeased pout on her face.

Unable to resist teasing her, you nudge her gently, remarking, “Jealousy looks cute on you.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your statement before offering her hand to you.

“May I have a dance?”

As Natasha leads you in a slow dance, you can’t help but feel nostalgic, leaning your head against her shoulder.

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” you ask softly.

Natasha hums in agreement and nods against you, responding, “Last time we danced like this, we decided to be a couple.”

You chuckle at the memory, reminiscing about how clueless you were back then, never imagining how things would turn out for the two of you.

The soft music creates a serene atmosphere, cocooning you and Natasha in your own world, away from everyone else.

Recalling the details of your original agreement, you meet Natasha’s eyes, a mischievous glint dancing in your gaze.

“You know, according to our deal, our fake relationship is supposed to end after your coronation tomorrow,” you point out.

Natasha raises an intrigued eyebrow, curious about your intentions.

“So, what should we do about that then?” she asks, her tone playful.

You tilt your head, pretending to ponder before flashing her a teasing smirk.

“Didn’t we agree that if anything were to happen between us, it would be the princess who confessed her feelings first?”

Understanding dawns on Natasha’s face, and she grins in agreement, a fond smile playing on her lips.

“Y/n,” she begins softly, her gaze filled with affection. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were amazing…then I learned that you were really stubborn.”

You roll your eyes at her teasing, but Natasha just chuckles before continuing.

“But you're also kind and smart. And truly the strongest person I know.”

She leans in closer, her breath mingling with yours.

“My heart and my life have always been yours, Y/n.”

You feel warmth spreading through your chest at her confession, and you can’t help but cup her face gently with your hands.

“You’re my best friend,” Natasha continues, her voice barely above a whisper as she covers your hand with hers. “But I would be honored if you are willing to have me as more than that.”

Your heart swells with love, and you nod happily as you respond.

"I want that too, Natasha," you whisper sincerely. “I want to continue to stay by your side and be yours too. Always.”

With those words of promise, Natasha closes the distance between you, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss.

The sound of cheers and applause surrounds you, but you pay no mind, lost in the moment with Natasha.

You don’t know what the future holds, but you’re not afraid. As long as you’re together, you know you can overcome anything that comes your way.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Epilogue

In another kingdom, far away, inside one of the workshops of the castle, the king’s assistant waits patiently by the doorway for a pause in the king’s pastime of tinkering.

“What’s the matter, Jarvis?” Tony Stark asks without looking up from his careful concentration.

“A letter arrived for you, sir.”

“Is it about the next shipment of parts?”

“No, sir, this came from a nobleman in the Romanov Kingdom.”

“Oh…you can just toss it in the fire then.”

There’s an awkward silence as his assistant makes no move to do as he asked, causing Tony to glance up in question.

The assistant hesitates before explaining.

“Counselor Potts strongly advised us not to do that anymore, under the warning of severe punishment should she find out. Also, the messenger stressed that the contents pertain to an urgent matter.”

Tony stops and furrows his brow. After the war and the deaths of his whole family, he preferred to keep contact between the kingdoms to a minimum. Just because there’s a peace treaty between them doesn’t mean he has to like or care about anyone there.

On the other hand, facing the wrath of his most trusted advisor for ignoring this letter is not something he wants to deal with in the foreseeable future.

“Just leave it on the table then,” he sighs with a roll of his eyes.

If anything, it’s probably more news about the coronation of their upcoming queen. He’s already sent his decline to attend the event and a decent enough congratulations present that Pepper picked out.

He doesn’t understand why they can’t just keep the indifferent relationship between the two kingdoms as is instead trying to make them into something closer.

Shaking his head as Jarvis closes the door behind him, Tony attempts to return to his flow of concentration, picking up his tools as he continues to tinker with the parts in front of him.

Unfortunately, as time passes, his eyes keep glancing at the letter sitting in the corner, something about it gives him some sort of unnerving feeling.

Slumping with a resigned sigh that he can’t keep his focus anymore, he places his tools down again and swipes at the letter, sitting at the edge of the table.

Opening it, he skims the contents quickly before his posture suddenly straightens with tension, his expression turning serious.

The door of the workshop slams open, and Tony strides out purposefully, calling to his assistant.

“Jarvis!”

They are at his side in an instant, following him and listening for the next orders.

“Tell Vision to prepare the carriages and let Pepper know I’ll be away a bit for some business.”

“Yes, sir. May I ask where you will be traveling to?”

“The Romanov Kingdom,” Tony answers, glancing at the letter in his hand before tightening his fist, crumpling the paper slightly.

“Looks like it’s time to pay this new queen a visit after all.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

a/n: Thank you to everyone for reading all the way to the end of this series! (especially this long chapter) It's been a journey, and I'm happy that many of you enjoyed it and showed up for every update (all of your comments and reactions are so sweet and fun to read and honestly helped to keep me motivated).

This is the final part of the series, but it's not the end yet. There will be a sequel for Boundless Devotion, and it's called Everlasting Devotion (title mention in prequel Fateful Encounter 🤗).

I’m still in the middle of working on it, so the first chapter is not going to be released right away since I also want to finish some other one shots that I‘ve been working on and maybe take a little break.

That being said, for those currently in the taglist for Boundless Devotion and anyone else who's interested, if you also want to be added in the taglist for when the sequel starts, please let me know. (I prefer to ask again just in case instead of just assuming and forcing you along on another series that you didn't sign up for)

Again, thank you to all of you for reading!

Taglist: @lightwhoranoutoflight, @taliiiaasteria, @romanoffprentiss, @canvascoloredin, @silentwolfsstuff, @blacklightsposts, @arcturusseer, @presser24, @dvrkhcld, @jujuu23, @screechcat, @vivs46, @cd-4848, @youneversawmehereooooooo, @pancakefan7529, @confusedspaceotter, @natbelovasblog, @izzy-b09, @iamheartless, @mrsrushman, @fxckmiup, @natty-taffy, @2silverchain, @traveler-at-heart, @autorasexy, @natsxwife, @mviswidow, @slut4johansson, @automaticdinosaurtaco, @jono723, @mousetheorist, @tofu9162, @natsbiggestfan1, @iheartjohansson, @nothanksbye07, @midastouch013, @dvrkhcld, @red1culous

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

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abbyromanoff · 1 year ago

Text

ALL GOOD GIRLS GO TO HEAVEN

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 3,354

WARNINGS: smut, sex in a church, “bad boy” Nat, use of pet names, fingering, really badly written smut, talks of religion, Christianity, insults of God/the religion, ‘good girl’ R, friends with benefits kinda, sinning, mentions of masturbation, mentions of cunnilingus, innocent!R, think that’s all :)

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

Everyone knew the family that lived across from you. Their father, Alexei, somehow made the most in the family with a job he wasn’t allowed to disclose. Some assumed he sold drugs, others thought he ran a prostitution business.

Their mother who you found out was named Melina didn’t acquire a job, she was the more mysterious type. She didn’t talk often, but the other mothers stopped inviting her to their book club when she had mentioned her awards from the gun range; you didn’t even know there was such a thing.

Their youngest, Yelena, somehow always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Everyone knew she was the cause of whatever juvenile act was caused but her father seemed to ease any tension with cops due to a hefty pay way. That’s what everyone thought, at least, since most cops didn’t seem to enjoy the family.

And then there was their oldest, Natasha. She was mostly called Nat by her friends, but a skank from anyone else. She was often seen with red bloodshot eyes that were presumed to be the result of weed. She drank like there was no tomorrow and always ended up in the same place as Yelena, an overnight jail cell. If it wasn’t her sister causing problems then it was her, always.

You really didn’t understand the gossip around the four, sure they were a bit of an odd family, but what was the point of judging if they were happy? You guessed it was because of their religious beliefs, when they first moved to the town and your father invited them over for dinner, he was appalled when hearing their lack of faith. The mother believed in a higher power, but her conspiracy theories about such a thing were what set your father off. The rest of them were atheists, that’s when you knew they’d never be allowed in your sight.

Even with your age standing at 19 years old, your parents had all control over you. It was exhausting, you just wanted an escape from their extreme rules. And that’s when you truly met her, Natasha Romanoff.

You later learned that both she and her sister were adopted when she was only six and kept their last names. They weren’t biologically related, but they loved one another as if there were.

You kept your odd friendship hidden from others’ eyes in fear that your parents would find out. Your dad was the priest and very well-known among the town, he’d be beyond disappointed if he heard of such rebelish acts.

But Nat treated you better than anyone ever had, and you were happy when she was near, you couldn’t risk losing that. Your only other friends were the ones your parents had introduced you to because of their acquaintance with the guardians of them, and they were more boring than watching clothes dry.

Nat was fun, she brought excitement and rush. There was one time when she snuck you out of the house to go to a party her friend was holding, you came home feeling more guilty than ever with only two sips of alcohol in your system. And her parents liked you, and so did her sister. They were more laid back, and you found yourself wishing you had the same treatment back at home.

Your parents had wondered what friend you had been spending so much time with, even coming up with the thought of a possible boyfriend. You quickly shut that down with the excuse that you were just so busy with studying for college, it felt sickening to lie.

“Don’t worry about it, we’ve all sinned at least once in our lives,” Nat told you when you expressed your fears to her, it only made the guilt rise. You didn’t even go to the confession box to report your acts in case your father was on the other side and recognized who you were.

“Have you ever tried going to church?” You asked while standing in front of the full-body mirror. You were in your pink and white dress as you placed your earrings on, your hair being done up nicely with a headband to keep it out of your face. You had a light amount of makeup on in order to seem clean but not too clean, you already had to deal with enough catcalls daily. You were very well-known in your area and the boys used that to their advantage, it was honestly tiring. But you had to deal with it, that was presumably the role of a woman.

“Are you kidding? They’d probably hang me if they saw me there. Besides, it seems boring.” You rolled your eyes playfully and walked over to her bed where she laid comfortably. You begged your parents to let you stay at a friend's house and were lucky enough that they didn’t question it when you said the name of their friend’s daughter.

You held her hands in your own, wrapping yours around her fingertips and smiling down at her. You leaned down, kissing her on the cheek and giggling at the blush that covered her cheeks soon after.

“Aww, I thought someone as tough and cool as you didn’t blush?” You cooed in a mocking tone, receiving a soft shake of her head.

“I only blush for you, Cherry.” She loved calling you that after she had kissed you for the first time and tasted your cherry lipstick. Of course, she didn’t put a label on you two and told you it was a friendly act, that everything you did together was saved for only the most important friendships. That meant you weren’t allowed to do such things with anyone else, not even your other friends. But she didn’t break that rule either, so it was only fair.

“Stop calling me that.” You whined, causing a dark laugh to erupt from her.

“But you’re my little cherry, so sweet and tasty.” It was a reminder of your first time shared together when her mouth found place in your most sacred region. She told you it didn’t count as committing adultery unless she was inside of you, so she was allowed to please you all she wanted.

You broke yet another rule when you first masturbated after a phone call with her late in the night. You felt so ashamed, you called her back while sobbing into the phone, little did you know she wasn’t grossed out, she was only smirking. She asked you to tell her exactly what you did, and when you made sure to add that you denied yourself release, she begged you to continue in hopes of hearing you cum for her. You did, just like you followed everything she said. It was almost as if you were her puppet, her toy, but you had never been happier being such.

“I think I should be the one calling you cherry with how red your hair is.” You muttered, running your fingertips through her soft locks and suddenly being reminded of the time you followed this exact routine while you were being thrown over the edge due to her tongue.

“Mm, that feels good.” She moaned, causing your breathing to quicken. “But don’t you have to get to Church before your daddy notices you’re gone, Cherry?” A small pout adored your lips as you had to say your goodbyes, promising to visit her later when you were to sneak out late into the night. You had started becoming an expert at such, but it didn’t rid you of the guilt and shame you held in your heart afterward.

“Sorry I’m late, Daddy, I hope I didn’t miss too much.” You said to the man, kissing his cheek as he gave you a small side hug. His lips landed on your head before pulling away with a smile.

“Nonsense, we were just about to start, angel.” Nat often made fun of you jokingly for your close relationship with your father, but you had just gotten used to the nicknames for each other. You didn’t seem to understand her teasing over what you called him, and whenever you asked she chuckled and told you not to worry, but you wanted to worry. You wanted to understand her and her remarks, all of her friends did, why couldn’t you?

You sat next to your mother and in front of a few people you had grown familiar with. You gave a small wave before turning your attention back to the stand where your Dad stood. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and thanked everyone for coming as you all started your prayers.

There was a creak suddenly heard as the doors to the Church failed to be opened quietly. It was a natural response for multiple heads to be turned, the priest faltering on his words as he tried to remain calm. It was Nat, why was she here?

She was known for causing trouble so it was expected when whispers could be heard amongst the room. She sat behind you and noticed your head not facing her, but you knew she was there. The people next to her scooted over as best they could without creating attraction or seeming as rude. Mark 12:31 ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ it was impossible to do such a thing when a delinquent like herself was right there.

You suddenly felt a small vibration against your thigh where your phone rested and quickly checked it in order to not get a stern talking to from your mother. It was from Nat, telling you to meet her in the bathroom in five minutes. You looked behind you discreetly, seeing the alluring smirk that covered her face.

Five minutes had passed by slowly, and Nat had already left halfway through the wait. She didn’t want it to look suspicious, nobody would notice if she was gone but it would cause a few glances if you were.

You told your mother your planned destination and walked over, making sure to remain silent as to not disturb others.

“What are you doing here?” You whispered out angrily, but you weren’t exactly mad to see her. You worried that someone may have picked up notice on the two of you, surely they wouldn’t have, right?

“Shh, I just wanted to see you, принцесса (princess).” She chuckled and grabbed hold of your waist, pulling you into her as she tried to sneak kisses over your neck. Her Russian always affected you, she was able to pick up on that quickly.

“Is it so bad to visit my angel while they’re at Church?” You sighed as her lips continued their assault, you were praying no marks would be made. How would you be able to look your family and friends in the eyes after that?

“You know, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since this morning.” Her hands tugged on the top of your dress which showed a very little amount of cleavage. She wished she could see more, but knowing that they were for her eyes only was what got her going.

“Really?”

“Mhm, was thinkin’ about how pretty you look in this dress, and how pretty you’d look without it.” Your eyes fluttered shut as her palm ran up and down your thigh, getting closer to the restricted area. She guided you to the sink where you sat on the counter, your legs subconsciously parting while she moved to stand between them.

“W-we’re in Church, Natty, everyone is right outside.” She lifted the end of your dress further up until it rested on your upper thighs. Your panties made their way to her eyesight as she gasped when seeing them, a smirk coming to place on her face.

“Oh, baby…is this all for me?” You shyly nodded with a blush adorning your cheeks. You felt so exposed, so open. But she loved you like this, it was her favorite sight to see.

“Yeah? You got all dolled up for me?” She removed her leather jacket along with her shirt, leaving her in a black bra and jeans. Her abs were on display along with her biceps, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and touching them, shuddering at the feel.

“Like what you see, huh?” She didn’t stop her teasing of your soft skin, forming a sort of obsession with how it felt in her hands. Your chubby thighs looked so cute, she just wanted you to wrap them around her head while she ate you out.

“You keep getting bruises and cuts, I don’t like you hurting yourself.” She grasped your chin in her fingertips, causing you to look back up at her. You bit your lips while staring at her own.

“I’m okay, I promise.” She kissed you with such passion, yet so softly. How she could do such a thing you didn’t know, but you knew you loved every second of it.

“You need to be more careful-”

“Hey, hey, there’s no need to worry your pretty little head off. I’ll try and be more careful, okay? For you.” Her answer satisfied you enough to let the topic drop and allow her to continue her pecks to your hungry lips.

“We don’t have a lot of time now, angel, we need to make this quick before someone notices you’ve been gone so long.” Her fingers toyed with the waistband of your undergarments while you spoke, dragging them back only to release them so it could slap against your skin.

Her digits were cold on your warm skin, sending goosebumps through your entire body. You clung to her body for support, just like you found yourself doing on multiple occasions.

“Please touch me, I-I want you to touch me.” She groaned in response to your worded confession. It was so tempting to just give in, but she wanted to hear it, she wanted to hear how badly you needed it.

“I’m already touching you, am I not?” You whined in hopes she’d understand your high demand. You could feel yourself soaking your panties the more she teased you through them, rubbing your clit in gentle circles before finally pushing the fabric to the side.

“Oh, you’ve made such a mess, baby! You want me to take care of it for you, hm?” You nodded as your hips shuffled closer to her. They were moving on their own at this point as you practically grinded into her.

“Be gentle, please?” She kissed your forehead after agreeing, trying to distract you and make you focus on anything other than the burning pain of her fingers stretching you out. It was only two, but it was enough to cause you to hiss out.

“It’s okay, it’ll feel so much better soon.” She reassured you, smiling when she started to hear low moans coming from your mouth. She started off slow, letting you adjust before increasing her pace.

“Nat- ah!” You let out a particularly louder whimper before she placed her hand over your mouth.

“As much as I admire your pretty noises, I don’t want anyone hearing them but me.” There was slight jealousy in her tone, but you were too enthralled in pleasure to care. If anything, it brought a sense of joy to know the hold you had over her. She was so enticed by your beauty that she didn’t want anyone else to have the pleasure of worshipping it.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous like this.” The sound of your juices sloshing against her fingers could be heard across the small room. She looked down at her watch and noticed five minutes had passed since you left for the bathroom, people had to be curious by now.

You could still hear the distant sound of your father’s booming voice leading the large group of Christians, it only brought a feeling of ignominy and arousal. It was so overwhelming to think that Natasha’s fingers were deep inside of you while your Dad, who held a deep hatred for the woman, was right next door. It was wrong, so deeply wrong, but it felt so right.

“Oh, God!” Her hand had removed itself from your mouth after a small warning, making your pleads now, once again, audible.

“That’s right, I’m your God, baby.” You grasped onto her shoulders as your legs wrapped around her waist, bringing you even closer and causing her to deepen further inside of your tight hole. She didn’t seem to care for the pain your nails caused to her skin, only welcoming it with a delighted hum.

“So tight and warm, you’re so fucking perfect, angel.” She watched her digits disappear before returning to her vision, causing you to follow her line of sight.

“You see that? See how well you’re taking me?” Words seemed to fail from escaping your mouth as a hard thrust from her fingers seemed to have found your spot, the coil in your stomach only tightening further at the newfound feeling.

“Natty, I’m gonna-” You forced yourself into silence when hearing a knock on the door, both of your heads snapping in the direction of the sound.

“Y/N? Are you okay in there?” You bit your lip when hearing your Mother’s gentle voice full of worry, turning back to look at Natasha who only grinned.

“If you want to cum, I suppose you should answer her.” You mustered up the courage to speak, but it ended up resulting in a high-pitched tone that only made the woman more confused.

“Yeah- fine! I’ll be out in a m-minute!” You listened for the approval that she had walked off and let you be, finally allowing yourself to set free the moans you had held back.

“Please…please let me cum, I’ve been so good.”

“If you ask me, I think I would have to say you’ve been everything but, cherry. I mean, letting me fuck you in a Church, the House of God, don’t you feel dirty? Or are you too drunk on my fingers to care?” The realization settled in, you truly were too hungry for her bliss, you were starving. You were a sinner, yet no one ever told you it felt so stimulating to do so. Maybe if you had known how good it felt you wouldn’t have been so pristine, you would’ve been able to remember an enjoyable time that wasn’t just spent with Nat. You’d be free.

“I like being your dirty girl..” It was near impossible to hear, but Nat was able to scoop it out. It made her falter for just a moment, only for you to then feel her grip on your waist tighten.

“You drive me fucking crazy, baby girl.” The room was filled with the stench of sex, easy to sniff out. Her palm was repeatedly brushing against your clit, only causing you to pulse more. You were throbbing, her touches weren’t enough.

“C’mon, make a mess for me, you dirty fucking slut.” The degrading name was what sent you over the edge, never had you thought you’d get off to such disrespect but here you were, coating another woman’s fingers while she spewed words of venom.

“Good girl.” She dragged out, letting you ride your high as your head hid in her shoulder. Your legs shook uncontrollably, the waves of pleasure crashing over you and forcing silent screams out of you.

“I want more.” She mustered out a small laugh that was painted over with her ragged breaths, it sent you a rush of excitement and fear.

“I’ll give you more later. But for now, why don’t you go back out there and try not to think about me too much, alright?” You nodded, stepping out of the bathroom and returning to your seat where you then realized the lack of panties covering your exposed body. She kept them for herself without a plan of returning them, you practically stalled in your spot at the recognition. You still had another hour until you were permitted to leave, you were so screwed, and she loved knowing it.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fanfiction #mcu natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fanart #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff mcu #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader fluff #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you

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locuas642 · 4 months ago

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Elden Ring, my reading on Marika

Having finished the DLC, I am thinking of this scene. The scene from Ranni's ending, where she replaces Marika as a Goddess and Marika vanishes, finally passing away.

And one of the biggest twists in the game, alongside one of the major unsolved mysteries in the story is the reveal that Marika herself shattered the Elden Ring for some purpose, with the most sympathetic reading being that this was the only way she had to escape from the control of The Greater Will and recover her freedom.

The DLC expands on Marika, giving us an origin for her.

That is, of the horrors her people suffered at the hands of the Hornsent, the same people she would command Messmer to wage War upon them and commit what seems to have been a brutal genocide.

Now, my personal reading is that, after what happened to her people, Marika did a metaphorical deal with the devil. Either The Elden Beast or Metyr arrived to The Lands Between near Marika's village, and she accepted to be a Goddess and a servant of The Greater Will in exchange for her vengeance. and to be perfectly fair to Marika, this was the closest to Justice her people would ever get.

Now, Count Ymir suggests Marika was influenced by flawed advice from Metyr, the Mother of Two-Fingers, who lost contact with The Greater Will. But he also believes the moons are just the closest celestial object to our planet, so he is full of Shit. Because that doesn't yet explain The Elden Beast.

In any case, Marika made that deal and became a Goddess and she got her vengeance. And she fulfilled her duty as accorded, Conquering and expanding and forcing everyone to bow to The Greater Will. Who knows what she felt during this time. If she lusted for power as her empire grew, or if she was horrified and felt trapped by learning what becoming a goddess meant.

Because everything about Marika is always specifically filtered through someone else. Even the closest we get, her very words spoken by her, are filtered through Melina.

The second closest we get is Marika's village, where we see the things she left behind, Specific actions she and she alone did for nobody else but the memory of her village. and I say this because This:

is the closest we ever, ever get to meeting Marika. a broken face of someone who has long stopped being human, he don't see her eyes, we don't hear her voice. Yet you know what I see here?

Marika's Tired. So, so, so, so... Tired.

Was that it? that at the very end, Marika simply grew tired? was she, in her last moments, thinking back and remembering The Grandmother by the tree, and wishing she could be there for one final slumber?

And so maybe, regardless of what The Age of Stars means, on whether it is the "good ending" or not, this is the ending Marika wanted. For someone, any of her children, to hopefully succeed her and let her rest at last.

And what we see is that in the last moments of the Shaman whose entire home village was cruelly massacred (and who delivered blood upon blood onto those responsible and unto the innocent, and whose entire life was now defined to the service of some greater power), she is being cuddled in the arms of her step-daughter (of whom she may be Ranni's biological father), a moment of peace and warm before the end of a long road.

Maybe one of the things the DLC was meant to show us wasn't why Marika did what she did. It was to show us that it was time for Marika to go back home at last

#elden ring #lunar princess ranni #ranni #marika #queen marika #marika the eternal #er #spoiler #spoilers #fromsoft #shadow of the erdtree #sote

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froppy-butterflyfan2000 · 5 months ago

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This story is considered a sequel to Roundtable Meeting. Though the story is based on a roleplay between me and @gloriousdreamunknown. But with some changes.

The Firecrackers: Marianne came to the planet, Eraklyon because her aunt, Bloom decided to live on Earth and is taking her and Sky’s daughter with her. Meanwhile, Hannibal is being a gremlin by following her.

Enya Peters-Eraklyon, Dorana Lumenia Junior (mentioned), Astra Nova Lumenia (mentioned), Starla Lumenia, Blackholetchi Lumenia, and Star-Marie Lumenia belong to @gloriousdreamunknown

Sandra Stoppable (mentioned), Damon Drake/Drake Damon Drakken (mentioned), and Melina Mystery belong to @ej-cappy-universe

Hannibal Demerest, Marianne of Domino, and Esti (mentioned) belong to @froppy-butterflyfan2000 (me)

#Marianne of Domino #Hannibal Zomboni #Astra Nova Lumenia #Enya Peters-Eraklyon #Melina Mystery #cappyverse #winx club next gen #Sandra Stoppable #Sandra Possible #Damon Drakken #Star-Marie Lumenia #Starla Lumenia #Esti Lumenia #Dorana Lumenia the Second

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kunosoura · 4 months ago

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You accomplish your goal and are summoned for a climactic fight, after which you die fulfilled (Normal route Anri, Thiollier, Ansbach)

You slowly wither, losing sight of your goals until you’re a hostile husk (Lucatiel, Crestfallen Warrior)

You find what you’re seeking, go mad, and get put down like a dog by the player character (Gideon, Big Hat Logan)

You achieve what you’re seeking, lose purpose, and turn up as a corpse at the end of your questline so the player can get your armor without having to attack you (Sirris, Yura/Shabriri)

Miraculously, you survive! Maybe you’re the lucky vendor still chilling in the hub area at the end of the game, maybe the player did everything just right to save you, maybe you got something resembling a Happy ending. (Karla, Solaire, Nepheli)

You die tragically and early, too gentle/weak for this world (Irina (ER), Real Iosefka)

You die or perhaps vanish mysteriously after a certain point, leaving behind your gear (Dragon Priestess, Eileen)

You turn on the player after your purposes diverge and are killed (Lautrec, Licia, Leda)

You die or face a fate worse than death, having taught the player character - your last pupil - all you can (Rhea, Sellen)

Your fate is intrinsically tied to the ending, and the player chooses in your favor (Ranni, Kuro, Maiden in Black)

Your fate is intrinsically tied to the ending, and the player does not choose in your favor, but you at least put up a hell of a fight (Gentle Blade Emma, Melina at least narratively, Gehrman)

You are fodder for an evil questline and are killed off by the player (Mephistopheles’ victims, Nepheli in Seluvis’s quest)

#sekiro #bloodborne #dark souls #demons souls #elden ring

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space-blue · 4 months ago

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SOTE rant (1)

One thing that I find very annoying, is the propensity for Lore video makers to completely jump on the DLC and analyse it in a void. Everyone is theory crafting like the base game doesn't exist anymore.

Everyone is taking Miquella's approach as the go to for divinity 101 and acting like only the people name dropped in the DLC matter, except for Radagon, who is very important, despite NEVER being named, ANYWHERE in the SOTE game files.

Oh no, excuse me, he's named ONCE in a delete dialogue (unless he speaks during battle but I was under the impression that he never does?) from Radahn:

Yet everyone is out there saying Marika used the gate to make herself a god and created Radagon in the process. And that he was created that way as her lord, and then immediately fathered Messmer and Melina.

But I... kind of don't see it? Why would SHE need to use a special vessel ritual like everyone is theorizing?

She already has a sworn lord : Godfrey.

Why is everyone making these Marika centric lore videos and never dropping the names of key characters?

Godfrey. Serosh. Maliketh. Why is nobody asking themselves WHEN did Marika get granted her "brother" Maliketh by the three fingers? Why is nobody making speculation on whether she had a pact with Hoarah Loux before becoming a god.

He could very well be the vessel needed. He doesn't need to have his soul separated from a body or any such nonsense. That's what Miquella ended up doing because he had no choice if he wanted to use Radahn.

Here is what we know of Godfrey :

Godfrey was a ferocious warrior. When he vowed to become a lord, he took the Beast Regent Serosh upon on his back to suppress the ceaseless lust for battle that raged within. The first demigods were The Elden Lord Godfrey and his offspring, the golden lineage. Crown of Godfrey, the first Elden Lord. The age of the Erdtree began amongst conflict, when Godfrey was lord of the battlefield. He led the War against the Giants. Faced the Storm Lord, alone. And then, there came a moment. When his last worthy enemy fell. And it was then, as the story is told, that the hue of Lord Godfrey's eyes faded. Helm of the Crucible Knights who served Godfrey, the first Elden Lord. Weapon of Godfrey, Elden Lord. It was broken in a battle fought as leader of the Tarnished during the Long March. This weapon is symbolic of Godfrey's vow to conduct himself as a lord, later becoming an emblem of the golden lineage. In the days of the past, a crown was warranted with strength.

The first demigods were The Elden Lord Godfrey and his offspring, the golden lineage.

This line either means that the voice of the game is lying, wrong, or not knowledgeable enough. Or that Messmer is not a demigod, or that Messmer is the son of Godfrey.

And while he does have red hair, he is cursed with a red flame... And his little sister, Melina, doesn't have the distinctive red hair of Radagon's children. She's also not a demigod as far as we know.

Messmer and Melina are named M like Mohg and Morgott! We have plenty of hints that they could be Godfrey's children, first and foremost being the canon base game text asserting all demigods first descended from him. We simply don't know otherwise.

It's also asserting he was the first Elden Lord, and not second or a later addition.

There's also his vow to conduct himself as a Lord, which seems like something he might have done prior to Marika making him Lord.

The beast depicted is Serosh, aged counselor who guides the golden lineage. The black nails protruding from golden fur are said to represent Serosh, Lord of Beasts, who went to become King Godfrey's Regent.

Serosh is very mysterious, and we just know he's some sort of limiter. I've made plenty of posts arguing for Maliketh and Serosh being the same type of beasts from the same global origins.

Beasts are reverred by the Hornsent! Our first boss is their storm beast guys, and the head looks quite similar to Serosh. Who, BTW, is also a spirit form?? Who turns real on command?

All this to say, it doesn't sound impossible at all, to me, that Marika would have come to the gate of divinity already having a lord lined up -- Godfrey -- and counsellors giving advice on how to execute her plan : Serosh and Metyr mother of fingers.

I assume it would be in Metyr's power to grand Marika her (necessary?) Shadowbound beast.

Isn't it interesting that Maliketh is a Shadowbound Beast? In our Shadow Realm DLC? He's never mentioned in the files, sadly.

But all of these people are key to Marika's ascension. I wish people would think about them more when they do their lore videos and not just roll right into creating Radagon out of thin air.

What bothers me most about the secret rite here, is that it says "the secret rite of the divine gateway", like THE rite, not A rite. It could be THE other one is not secret...

But more importantly, the line "usher in a god's return" just really does not fit EITHER of Miquella OR Marika. Neither of them is returning!! Maybe the God of Placidussax would be returning, but both Marika and Miquella are/try to ascend for the first time.

Miquella is also the only one with anyLord shennanigans we know of for sure.

I think Miquella divests himself of everything in order to comply with this ritual. So he has something to "return to". He sheds everything, so that he can pass through the gateway. But he's returning to an Empyrean's birthright. To a demi-god.

But we don't know that this is something Marika would have needed. We don't know that she used this specific ritual. After all, circumstances are VERY different for her :

The Gate of Divinity is fresh and bloody, implying a recent mass sacrifice. And then she plucks Gold from a corpse or receptacle of some sort.

None of this is depicted in Miquella's return, and he's not trying to emulate his mother, because her way of doing things came with a curse loaded "original sin". So we even have reason to believe Miquella would not actually be replicating the same ritual.

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ghostofashina · 3 months ago

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"An affair from which gold arose and shadow too was born"

This was clearly about Lands Between and Lands of Shadows, how these two places coexist in different aspects. But also, I think it can give us a nice perspective about Godwyn and Messmer births.

This is just a small theory I made while trying to built up a timeline, because these two births tend to blend into the other and I think it's on purpose. And I know, where Melina fits in this? I still think Melina is one of the youngest of the pack, as a secret weapon of Marika recalling Messmer's kindling being out of her reach, but this is another theory for another post. Now, I'd like to bring a small theory about Godwyn being the child born from the seduction and the betrayal.

SOTE SPOILERS ahead.

We know, for certain, Godfrey was Marika's true first Elden Lord. But, even it being a common sense that Godwyn was their firstborn, there's actually no true evidence claiming he was born before the omen twins. Except that now, after one piece of dialogue in the DLC, can shows us this and a little more.

First things first. Messmer's dad still is the great mystery of Shadow of the Erdtree, and again I think this is on purpose, because considering Godfrey's evidence, the game wants to tell us he was already there when Messmer came to life. And I, personally, don't think neither Radagon or Godfrey are Messmer's father. I think, in a parallel to christian God, sacrificing his son for the sins, Marika birthed Messmer alone — and Melina, that's why they both share a vision of fire and are direct siblings.

According to Marika's own words: "[Radagon] Thou'rt yet to become me. Thou'rt yet to become a God. Let us be shattered, both. Mine other self."

Knowing that Marika comes from the Shaman Village, and that her people was "grafted" to each other in seek of the divine, he is a part she divested herself later in the story and Messmer was some sort of manifestation of this, but not necessarily a child of Radagon.

And I guess we can agree Messmer was born in the Lands of Shadow, because he knows very well the sins committed against his mother and her own modus operandi. He was there before her godhood and that's why Godfrey's offspring got the title of first demigods. And Godfrey, too, was there with Marika since the start.

I won't get into the timeline of events, because it's a mish-mash in game, and I don't have the tools to explore assets and files. But, one thing that the DLC gives importance is the act of a vow. And we know Marika and Godfrey did a vow.

Leaving his past of Hoarah Loux, Godfrey took Serosh upon his shoulders to ease his bloodlust and accept the role when he sworned a vow with Marika to become a Lord. Which can reminds us of the Secret Rite Scroll, found in Shadow Keep.

"A lord will usher in a god's return and the lord's soul will require a vessel."

We can argue here about the roles of vessel and soul, because it feels Godfrey became the vessel to the Beast Regent (some sort of lord), which recalls the amount of lion representation in Hornsent culture. So, I tend to think that Serosh was part of the "betrayal" in order to ascend Marika to godhood with Godfrey as her lord consort.

That's when I imagine Godwyn was born. After the vow, to consumate the idea of Godfrey being named a lord of the golden lineage once Marika achieved godhood and started the Age of Erdtree.

If we recall the Minor Erdtree, left to the matriarch at Shaman Village, it's said:

"Secret incantation of Marika Only the kindness of gold, without Order."

I can see this as Miquella divesting himself of St. Trina, his love. Marika bathed her home in gold, knowing there was nothing left to heal. Alongside with her braid, it was a departing gift, because she was leaving for a new era. She is leaving her kindness of gold, to built the order. Godwyn was her last act of kindness of gold before the Order. That's why we have so many evidences he, alongside Messmer, was her beloved child of gold.

Going deeper, once we advance the questline of Hornsent Grandam, she tell us a very specific dialogue line, that can show us why Godwyn was curseless when he was born, different from his siblings.

She spoke of a omen curse. Curse upon her children, each and all. Messmer as her own flesh and blood, which I believe, carried the grafting curse upon her people over and over again, being a vessel to an outer god "grafting" into Marika's child. But Godwyn was curseless, because he was conceived outside cursing eyes, in secret. He was born of a vow that, once came to common knowledge, was called "the seduction and the betrayal" in the eyes of the Hornsent.

The birth of Godwyn was the start of her ascension to godhood. The affair from which gold (golden lineage, golden order, the golden prince) arose and shadow (abyssal serpent "shorn of light", shadow keep, shadow tree) too was born. And everything about them is represented of golden and shadow. From the eclipse to the golden ring in their symbols (as we see in the Death Knight's cloak or battle axes and alongside Messmer's spear and flame). So, I keep thinking they both were born at Lands of Shadows. One to purge her enemies and protect her kingdom, the other to represent a new era and maintain her glory. Godwyn is the Golden and Messmer is the Order.

#elden ring #shadow of erdtree #sote spoilers #messmer the impaler #godwyn the golden #godwyn the prince of death #more ghost's speculations

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bishopsbeloved · 9 months ago

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the art of falling in love (part three)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

read this fic on ao3!

But that awful feeling doesn’t go away… quite the contrary, it grows and grows. It’s a dark and hidden part of you, diseased, something you seek desperately to rid yourself of — but it only festers and worsens with the more time you spend with your love.

Yet being away from her is out of the question. The feeling only worsens whenever you’re away from her; an unbridled monster that dwells deep within the caverns of your chest, and bursts out at the most inopportune of moments. A tiny voice in the back of your head warns you that you’re turning into someone unrecognisable. You ignore it. Because you finally have the girl of your dreams, Natasha Romanoff, the one you’ve loved as long as you can remember.

“Whoever is this mystery girl you are dating, I do not like her,” Yelena says to you one day. It’s about a month now since the catastrophic spring break party at Tony’s house, and five months since the New Year’s party which began this whole mess. The two of you have been tasked with slicing vegetables for Melina, who is bustling busily around the stove. When Yelena speaks you have to physically pause to process her words, for fear you may otherwise slice straight through your own flesh as if it were another carrot.

“Mystery girl?” says Melina interestedly. “I did not know there was a mystery girl. How did I miss this? Y/N, sweetheart, you have a mystery girl and you have not brought her home yet?”

You glare at Yelena, and she smiles sweetly back.

“Nothing serious, ma,” you say to Melina as levelly as you can before turn to Yelena. “What do you mean, you don’t like her?” you ask, resuming your vegetable cutting. You try to ignore the shake of your hands and the beat of your heart. “You don’t even know who she is.” You hope, anyway.

She shrugs nonchalantly, as if she were discussing the weather rather than the affairs of your heart. “I don’t have to, to not like how she makes you feel. You are so different now, I do not like it. You are all sad and quiet and far away.”

“No I’m not,” you say in a small voice, fighting to hold back a tremble. You can only imagine the words she’d be saying if she knew it was her sister she was talking about.

“Yes, see!” says Yelena triumphantly, like you’ve just proven her point. “I say one thing and you are about to cry. Before you would hit me and we would be done.”

“You should not waste time on anyone who doesn’t treat you right, my sweet heart,” says Melina more tactfully, setting down her wooden spoon to cup your face in her gentle weathered hands. “You deserve the world. Find someone who gives you it.”

Your eyes do well up after she says that, and you have to turn away and blink rapidly so that Yelena doesn’t give you one of her knowing looks. To her credit, if she sees, she doesn’t say anything.

But Melina’s words weigh heavy on you, even after the conversation moves on — as though they’ve placed a physical burden upon your shoulders. They echo in your mind as you excuse yourself from the conversation and trudge upstairs, past the door of the very one they’re unknowingly warning you of. They play on repeat even as you’re beckoned into the bedroom of your secret paramour, who tells you to lock the door behind you. She’s sat on her bed, watching a Bond movie on her laptop, mouthing along to every word like she usually does.

“C’mere,” she says to you, patting the space between her legs. You obey wordlessly, sitting down between them with your back against her chest. Her arms wrap around you, tugging you closer, and her chin settles comfortably on your shoulder.

“Missed you,” she mumbles, sending shivers down your spine even as your troubled mind dwells on Mama Melina’s words.

You deserve the world, she repeats to you as Natasha begins to drop kisses along your neck, and you shift involuntarily in her lap. She groans and bucks up against you.

“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs against the skin of your collarbone, tugging at your shirt to trail her kisses lower. Natasha is your world, you think to yourself. And when she gives herself to you in moments like this, who are you to say it’s not enough? You remind yourself to be grateful every day that she sees fit to give you anything, to engage with you at all after she’s been so out of reach your entire life.

So as her kisses become lower and more insistent, you submit yourself to her completely, willing to do whatever pleases her. Because she is your world, and you would do anything for her — for better or for worse.

Unfortunately for you, though, Yelena does not seem to be the only one who’s noticed a shift in your behaviour.

Prom isn’t for another six or seven weeks, but already your classmates have begun the most over the top promposals you could think of, with each trying to outdo the last. It was only a few days ago that Bucky Barnes asked Steve Rogers to prom by writing “PROM?” on his back in sunscreen and then laying in the sun until the rest of him burnt. Rumour has it he tore off his shirt in front of their whole homeroom like some budget Superman knockoff. (Rumour also has it that Steve said yes. You’re not quite sure what to make of that.) (Well, at least you don’t have to worry about Bucky and Natasha anymore?) The halls are filled with hushed whispers of who might ask who next, and what methods they might choose to do so. And naturally, with Darcy being one of your closest friends, it is literally all you hear about when you are on the school premises.

…and Loki Laufeyson tells me Vision is thinking of asking you to prom, Wanda, Darcy signs triumphantly. You and your friend group are huddled around a table in the corner of the school library, supposedly studying, but with prom on the way that was never gonna happen. (The school librarian, Ms Harkness, is deathly serious about her no noise rules, but naturally as a friend group with a Deaf person in it that doesn’t really apply to you, so you often find yourselves in here.)

Since when were you on such good terms with Loki? asks Makkari with sceptically narrowed eyes.

Since the Stark party at Easter, comes Darcy’s confident reply. We did a science fair project together and now we’re totally friends. And they are very sure Vision has something planned.

I wouldn’t take it too seriously if it’s Loki telling you that, Wanda says dryly. They love to gossip. I don’t know Vision Stark, I’ve barely ever spoken to him. He kinda runs in the opposite way whenever he sees me.

He’s nervous, Darcy tells her knowingly. The guy’s scared of his own shadow, but he’s not too bad once he relaxes a bit. Give him a chance, I think you’d really like him. And also he apparently has neared a state of cardiac arrest several times trying to pluck up the courage to ask you out.

Wanda hums, and chews on her lip thoughtfully.

And you, Y/N, Darcy turns her gaze onto you now, you’ve had nothing going on for months. Have you got your eye on anyone?

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you shake your head no. I’m content where I am now, you say, which isn’t really a lie. Because you are happy. Right?

Darcy only shrugs before turning to Yelena, who is sat next to you while she gazes out of the window, zoned out as she often is whenever talk turns to romance. You nudge her gently with your foot and she turns, blinking out of her daydream. “Hmm? What—?”

“Shhh,” you all remind her instantly, as Ms Harkness’s head snaps up from the paperwork she was just bent over at her desk.

Sorry, Yelena rectifies hastily. What’s up?

Prom, you inform her, biting back a laugh at the way her face comically drops into one that’s very unamused.

I know you and Bishop didn’t work out, but do you have anyone else who might ask you to prom?

You look over at your best friend anxiously. Yelena has not really come out to anyone, only casually mentioning her aromanticism over dinner, to which Melina and Alexi barely batted an eyelid. Darcy does not seem to be picking up on the hints, though.

If anyone asked me, I would say no , Yelena tells her bluntly . I don’t do that stuff. Me and Y/N go together. Right, Y/N?

With matching outfits, you add helpfully.

We are going to serve, Yelena agrees, and the two of you low-five.

You can tell Darcy has more questions, but before she can press either of you any further the bell rings, signalling the end of free period. The four of you get to your feet, piling belongings back into your bags, and Makkari follows your example once she sees what you’re doing.

You end up falling behind at the back of the group, with Wanda next to you. She’s looking at you curiously, as though she’s seeing right through you, and you fidget uncomfortably.

Are you sure you’re happy? she asks you. The question hits you like a punch to the gut. Because you have not seemed it, lately.

You nod and smile weakly at her, and to her credit she pushes no further, but much like Melina’s words it weighs heavy on your mind long after she’s forgotten about it. You are happy, aren’t you? You are. You are happy. You have the girl of your dreams, for fuck’s sake. Of course you’re happy.

And that’s true, for the most part. You’re happy when you’re with her — and when you can switch your brain off around her, instead of pining what more you could have. Because this is all you have. All you’ll ever have. And every day you wake up, fearing that this is the day she’ll end whatever is between you, and cast you aside like the doll she’s done playing with.

But you must not seem that happy to other people, because it’s only a few hours later that you are questioned yet again — this time by Sam Wilson, who it is considerably more difficult to be upset with.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he calls down the hall as he spots you, awkwardly half-running to catch up with you. Last period has just ended, and you’re making your way to the science lab that you know Yelena just had a class in. You smile at him when you recognise him, and slow down until he matches your pace. Since that night he helped you out at the party the two of you have been talking a lot more, and you’ve found yourself really enjoying his company. You’ve never really been too good at making friends — if you didn’t have Yelena, your other half, you don’t know what you’d do — but things seem to come naturally with him. He’s very calming to be around, and he never makes you feel as though you’re supposed to be something that you’re not.

“What’s up, Wilson?” you greet him.

“I gotta bone to pick with you,” he says with half-hearted annoyance, even as he grins at you. You blink up at him in quiet confusion. “How come you stood me up yesterday night? You said you’d meet me out by the east block and you left me hangin’. We were supposed to go to Boulevard, remember?”

You groan and tilt your head back as you realise he’s right. The two of you have recently picked up a habit of hanging out at the arcade on the Boulevard after school for a couple nights a week. (He’s a beast at Donkey Kong, and you will never in your life be able to beat his high score, but you always manage to put up a good fight when you versus in Mortal Kombat.)

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. “I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

“Are you sure?” he asks jokingly. “Cause you skipped out on the one before that too.”

“I’m really sorry,” you weakly offer. “I just…” Well, what the fuck kind of excuse are you supposed to offer? I’m sorry, my secret girlfriend slash love of my life will only spend time with me in private because she’s ashamed of me? “…I don’t know. I’ve kinda been all over the place lately. Sorry.”

“Yeah, no shit. What’s going on, man, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, and you’re horrified at the moment at that your voice trembles. “No, I’m good. Seriously. Just stressed for finals,” you try tentatively, and you’re relieved at the way he just nods sympathetically.

“Well if you need a distraction, I’m free tonight,” he offers hopefully. You instinctively open your mouth to deny him, but when you see the way he’s poised and ready to accept your inevitable denial you pause guiltily. Why are you saying no and standing him up if he’s your friend? Your alternate itinerary for tonight is sitting around annoying Yelena and hoping that Nat will want to spend time with you tonight. This sounds way more fun.

A distraction. A distraction from the feeling clawing at your insides, which won’t let you sleep at night until you get that goodnight text.

“A distraction sounds good,” you say, and he grins back at you. Only a moment later Yelena’s class comes flooding out of the science lab, and your beloved blonde Russian approaches you. You’re glad to see she’s recovering some of the usual bounce in her step, after last month’s mishap.

“Come on, Natasha is giving us a ride,” she tells you excitedly, offering Sam a brief nod.

“Actually, can you tell her make my own way home? Me and Sam are hitting the Boulevard.”

“Alright. But if you win enough tickets can you get me that stuffed otter they have in the window,” she asks hopefully, and beams when you nod. “You are the best. And don’t forget to call Ma if you won’t be home till late, or —”

“She’ll have a heart attack, I know,” you say patiently. “Love you.”

Natasha probably won’t even notice you’re gone. She won’t mind.

Famous last words.

Sam ends up dropping you home, and the two of you stop by a fast food place on your way, so you’re not home until ten. You stumble into the house with bleary eyes and a bug-eyed, oversized otter tucked under your arm, but a heart fuller than it’s been in a long while, and a smile on your face to match. That smile is quickly wiped off of your face as you turn around and lock eyes with Natasha, who is sat on the top of the stairs. She’s evidently waited up for you.

“Hi. Is Lena still up? I won this for her.” You hold up the otter lamely.

She shrugs, a gesture so small you nearly miss it in the half-light. “I don’t know.” Late at night when she’s tired, tinges of Russian begin to creep back into her otherwise perfectly ironed American accent — she always scowls and makes an effort to fix it whenever you point it out, but to you it’s adorable. It’s like an ever so slight glimpse into the real Natasha, the one who makes you heart-shaped pancakes and remembers the names of all your favourite movies. And in the months that are passing in your relationship you feel like you’re seeing that side to her less and less.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly after a few moments. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“Yeah?” you say uncertainly. This feels like a trap. “Y— uh, yeah, I did, thank you.” You swallow, hard, as a pit opens up in your stomach. “Are… are we okay?”

She hesitates. “Are you happy?”

“Huh?”

“With me. When you’re with me. Do you have fun like you did tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice is small and quiet. “I— I don’t know what you want me to say.”

She’s silent. Like she doesn’t even know what she wants from you. Cautiously, gingerly, you speak again.

“I had fun tonight in a way that I can’t with you,” you say carefully. “You never want to spend time with me unless we’re alone. I don’t really know what we are, I know we’re not dating, but it feels… I don’t know.” You pause for a second, and your next words sound uncertain of themselves. “It feels like… you’re ashamed of me.”

The words are finally out of your mouth, at long last. For a moment it’s like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, but it comes crashing back town twice as heavy when you see the be way your words physically crush her.

“I’m not ashamed of you,” she whispers. “I’m not… I just…” And then she says something so quiet that even as you strain you can’t catch it. “Um. Don’t worry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

And while you do see her in the morning, nothing is the same. So you’re once again the bigger person in this relationship, the one taking care of her (and you’d do it forever, of course), and you give her exactly what you know she needs — some space, and some time. You’re not really sure what’s going through her head right now (you never are, to be honest), but what you do know is that she’d hate to feel smothered as she figures it out for herself. She’s more similar to her sister than she’d like to think. It’ll be okay, you tell yourself. You’ll give her what you know she needs, because sometimes you know her better than she knows herself, and trust that when she’s ready she’ll come to you.

But she doesn’t, and things are rocky between you and your love in the time that passes. Since the night you came home from the arcade, she’s been almost avoiding you. No more good morning or goodnight texts, no secret movie dates in her room, no more stargazing on the rooftop or late night drives. With every day that you wake up and meet her vacant gaze at the breakfast table you lose a little more hope. The end is nigh, you fear; the thing you’ve known all along, the fact that you were just a toy to her that she’ll dispose of when she’s bored, comes creeping back from the distant corner of your mind it was banished to, into the forefront — and you see it everywhere you go. In every tight-lipped look and sleepless night you pray for the end of this purgatory, whether that comes in the form of her embrace or her denial; anything but this wretched liminal space. This in-between where you don’t feel human to her.

Prom night rolls around. You and Yelena have indeed coordinated your outfits, just as planned, and the two of you are going together. (A slight and tiny part of you had hoped that maybe, somehow, Natasha would ask you to prom, and she would be your date. A much bigger part of you knew that would be her idea of purgatory.)

The two of you are carpooling with your friend group to the school, where your prom will be, in a limo that you all pitched in for. Darcy and Jane Foster, Makkari and Druig, and Wanda and Vision are all already piled in when the limo rolls up in front of your house — the last stop before the night truly begins.

“Interesting choice of interior decor,” Yelena muses, taking in the limo’s pink velvet seats and rhinestone-studded handles with thoughtfully narrowed eyes.

“Darcy picked it,” says Wanda monotonously.

She said we had to go all out for prom, Makkari adds with an eyeroll. The two of them earn lighthearted smacks from the target of their teasing.

You aren’t really sure what you’re actually meant to do at prom. Even in the movies, they’re never really very specific about what prom actually entails.

“What do you think we’ll do?” you ask Yelena, as the two of you hand in your coats to the concierge (a member of the student council who looks very stressed).

She snorts. “Judge people’s outfits, get drunk, take photos and dance, I’d say. I guess some people will be hooking up, too.”

“We will,” adds Darcy with a shameless wink as she passes the two of you, being dragged along by Jane. Your cheeks flush slightly, while Yelena sighs in affectionate long-suffering.

“Any updates on your super-secret girlfriend?” Yelena asks, and the usual guilty feeling pricks at your gut. She, of course, hasn’t been told of the conflict, because you’ve told her as little as possible. You don’t trust yourself to not break down out of guilt otherwise.

You try your best to be optimistic at first, but Yelena’s very quickly proven right. As soon as everyone’s arrived you tick off your first scheduled item on the prom itinerary — judging them — and you move swiftly onto the second.

“This tastes like shit,” you grimace as you sip gingerly from the drink Yelena presents you with. She bursts out laughing.

Before long, you’re feeling pleasantly fuzzy, and perfectly willing to embarrass yourself in front of your classmates on the dancefloor — so when Sam Wilson comes up to you proposing that you dance, twitchy as anything and evidently nervous out of his mind, it doesn’t feel as significant to you as it does to him that you accept.

He kisses your cheek when the dance ends, and you flush violently. But when he offers you his arm you take it, and he’s led along to a quiet afterparty back at Wanda’s house. It’s okay, you tell yourself, to be having fun with someone else. Natasha’s shown no interest in you for more than a month. It’s not that you don’t love her, because you do, but you can’t exactly force her to spend time with you, can you? It can’t cause any harm to have some fun with your friends.

But only a little down the road a certain redhead has shut herself in her room, and begins to ask herself why she’s behaved the way that she has.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #black widow #high school au #marvel high school au

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