#mob boss natasha romanoff

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Dangerous Woman

Mob Boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.9K

Summary: You're just a bartender until Natasha Romanoff walks into your life.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, alludes to sex, mentions of knives, mob life, mentions of vom*t

Authors notes: After making this moodboard I had this idea

You loved the rhythm of the restaurant’s evening rush. The clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversations, the occasional burst of laughter—it was a symphony that you had grown to cherish. As the bartender at one of the city’s most upscale establishments, you prided yourself on knowing the regulars, remembering their favorite drinks, and always being ready with a warm smile and a listening ear.

Tonight, the restaurant was especially busy. The soft glow of chandeliers cast a golden light over the elegantly dressed patrons, and the rich scent of gourmet dishes filled the air. You moved with practiced ease behind the bar, mixing cocktails, pouring wine, and engaging in light banter with the guests.

Your colleagues often joked about your ability to handle even the most demanding customers with grace. It was a skill that had earned you a reputation among the clientele and the respect of your fellow staff. But beneath your composed exterior, you couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was different. There was an electricity in the air, an anticipation that you couldn’t quite place.

As you polished a glass, your eyes drifted to the entrance just in time to see a striking woman step inside. She was tall, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that exuded sophistication and power. Her auburn hair was styled to perfection, and her sharp green eyes scanned the room with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Natasha Romanoff, you realized with a start. The name was whispered in certain circles with a mix of reverence and fear. She was the heiress to the infamous Red Guardian’s empire, known for her ruthless efficiency and unyielding control over her domain. You had never expected to see her in person, let alone at your bar.

Natasha’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before she made her way to a secluded table where a nervous-looking man awaited her. As she sat down, you couldn’t help but feel her eyes on you every so often, a piercing gaze that made your pulse quicken.

You tried to focus on your work, but your mind kept drifting back to her. What could bring someone like Natasha Romanoff here? And why did it feel like she was watching you so intently?

Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft chime from the bar. A customer was waiting. You turned your attention back to your duties, pushing aside the questions that swirled in your mind.

Time seemed to blur as the evening wore on. The restaurant’s ambiance, the steady stream of orders, and the occasional glance toward Natasha’s table kept you occupied. But you couldn’t ignore the growing sense of anticipation, the feeling that something significant was about to happen.

It wasn’t long before Natasha rose from her table, her conversation with the client seemingly concluded. She walked with an air of purpose toward the bar, her eyes locking onto yours. The room seemed to hush as she approached, the weight of her presence palpable.

“Good evening,” she said, her voice smooth and commanding. “I’d like your highest-priced bottle of red wine.”

You nodded, trying to steady your nerves as you reached for the exclusive bottle kept in the back for such occasions. “Of course, ma’am,” you replied, setting the bottle and a glass in front of her. “This is our finest vintage.”

Natasha’s lips curled into a faint smile as she watched you pour. “You have a good eye for quality,” she remarked, taking the glass and swirling the wine before taking a sip. “What’s your name?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her gaze. “It’s Y/N”

“Y/N,” she repeated, as if testing how it felt on her tongue. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m Natasha.”

The name sent a shiver down your spine. It confirmed what you had suspected, but there was a gentleness in her tone that caught you off guard. “Nice to meet you too, Natasha.”

She leaned closer, her eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me, Y/N, how does someone like you end up working in a place like this?”

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “I enjoy meeting new people and making their nights a little brighter. Plus, I’ve always had a passion for mixing drinks.”

Natasha’s smile widened slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “A passion for mixing drinks and making people happy. That’s a rare combination.”

She took another sip of her wine, her gaze thoughtful. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other, Y/N.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say, but feeling a strange sense of anticipation. As Natasha returned to her table, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your life had just taken a turn, one that would lead you deeper into her world.

=========

And see her again you did. It didn't take long, in fact. As you walked back to your apartment after that fateful encounter, the night air was cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the restaurant. The streets were mostly empty, save for the occasional pedestrian or car passing by. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, your thoughts lingering on the enigmatic woman who had unexpectedly captured your attention.

You were lost in your thoughts when you heard footsteps behind you, quickening in pace. Two men rounded the corner, their faces shadowed in the dim streetlights. They called out to you, their voices laced with a confidence you recognized all too well. Working as a bartender, you had grown accustomed to unwanted advances, even in the upscale environment of your workplace. The wealthy often believed their status and money could win you over, but they were always wrong.

One of the men stepped closer, his words slurred and suggestive. You stiffened, preparing yourself to handle the situation as you always did. But before you could speak, a familiar voice cut through the night.

"That's enough," Natasha's voice was cold and commanding, a dangerous edge to it that made the men freeze. She stepped out of the shadows, her presence immediately imposing.

The man who had been speaking turned to her, annoyance flickering in his eyes. "Listen, bitch, stay—" His words died in his throat as recognition dawned on his face. "The Red Guardian's daughter... The Black Widow..."

The name hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The color drained from the men's faces as they realized just who they were dealing with. Without another word, they turned and bolted, disappearing into the night as quickly as they had appeared.

Natasha watched them go, her expression unreadable. Then, she turned to you, her gaze softening. She closed the distance between you with a few quick strides, her cool hands gently cupping your cheeks. The touch was unexpected, but strangely comforting. You could still smell the faint scent of the wine she had sipped earlier, mingling with the subtle notes of mint that came off her. The combination made your head spin, your heart racing in your chest.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice softer now, laced with concern. Her thumbs gently brushed against your skin, grounding you in the reality of the moment.

You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you."

Natasha’s eyes softened further, a small smile playing on her lips. "You shouldn’t have to deal with people like that," she murmured, her tone protective. "Let me walk you home."

It wasn’t a request; it was a gentle command, and you found yourself unable to refuse. There was something undeniably captivating about her, a mixture of strength and vulnerability that drew you in.

=======

Instead of Natasha walking you home, you found yourself in her sleek black car, the city lights fading behind you as she drove you out of the bustling downtown area. The ride was quiet, the air filled with an unspoken tension, your mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You tried to piece together the events that had led you here, but the answers eluded you. All you knew was that you were headed to Natasha Romanoff's home, and that fact alone left you both exhilarated and anxious.

The drive seemed to stretch on, each mile taking you further from the familiar streets you knew. Finally, the car slowed and turned onto a private driveway. You gazed out the window, your eyes widening as a grand mansion came into view, nestled amidst lush, manicured gardens. The imposing structure was a blend of modern and classic architecture, exuding an air of sophistication and power that mirrored Natasha herself.

As the car came to a stop, your breath hitched. The sheer size and elegance of the mansion made your jaw drop. It was a far cry from the modest apartment you called home. Natasha stepped out of the car and walked around to your side, opening the door for you with a small, reassuring smile. You stepped out, feeling the cool night air against your skin, and followed her up the grand steps to the entrance.

The door opened before you could reach for it, revealing a pair of neatly dressed maids who greeted Natasha with polite nods. They took her coat and scarf, their movements quick and efficient. Natasha slipped off her jacket, revealing the burgundy shirt she wore underneath. She loosened her tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of her shirt, revealing a hint of her cleavage. The sight made your mouth and throat go dry, a sudden wave of heat rushing through you. The contrast between her commanding presence and the subtle glimpse of vulnerability left you speechless.

Natasha glanced over at you, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Welcome to my home," she said, her voice smooth and inviting. She gestured for you to follow her inside, her hand resting lightly on your lower back as she guided you through the grand foyer. The interior was just as impressive as the exterior—high ceilings, marble floors, and an array of tasteful art pieces adorning the walls. It was a place that spoke of wealth and status, yet felt oddly intimate.

As you walked further into the mansion, you noticed the staff bustling about, all moving with a quiet efficiency. It was clear that everything and everyone here existed to serve Natasha's needs and desires. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of nervousness, wondering how you had ended up in such a situation. It felt surreal, like you were living a dream—or perhaps a fantasy you hadn't even known you had.

Natasha led you into a cozy sitting room, its walls lined with bookshelves and soft, plush furniture. She motioned for you to sit on a comfortable sofa, then poured herself a glass of red wine from a decanter on a nearby table. She poured a second glass and handed it to you, her eyes never leaving yours. The gesture was both casual and intimate, a reminder of the connection that had sparked between you earlier in the evening.

As you took the glass, your fingers brushed against hers, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Natasha settled into an armchair across from you, her posture relaxed yet commanding. She took a sip of her wine, her gaze thoughtful.

"So," she began, her voice low and smooth. "How does it feel to be here, in my home?" There was a teasing glint in her eyes, but also a genuine curiosity.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "It's... breathtaking," you managed to say, your eyes flickering around the room before settling back on her. "I never expected to end up in a place like this. With you."

Natasha's lips curved into a small smile, and she leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "I didn't expect it either," she admitted, her voice softening. "But here we are."

There was a pause, a charged silence that hung in the air between you. You felt the weight of the moment, the unspoken possibilities that seemed to shimmer in the space between you. Natasha's presence was intoxicating, her allure undeniable. As she studied you, you couldn’t help but wonder what she saw in you, and what she had planned for the night.

Before either of you could continue the conversation, the two of you were interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open. A blonde woman with a thick Russian accent burst into the den, her presence as commanding as Natasha's. Her eyes were a piercing blue, and she carried herself with a confidence that suggested she was no stranger to dangerous situations.

"Sestra! I took care of To—" she began, her voice trailing off as she noticed you sitting there. A look of surprise crossed her face, quickly followed by suspicion. Her eyes narrowed, scanning you with a critical gaze before she turned her attention back to Natasha. Her expression softened slightly, but a hint of curiosity remained.

"Сестра, кто это?" the blonde asked, her voice low and questioning.

Natasha glanced at you briefly, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile before she turned to address the woman. She responded in Russian, her tone calm and composed, "Это Y/N, одна из новых знакомых. Не волнуйся, всё под контролем." (This is Y/N, one of my new acquaintances. Don't worry, everything is under control.)

The blonde raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the situation. Her eyes flicked back to you, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Знакомых, да?" (Acquaintances, huh?) she replied, her tone teasing yet inquisitive. She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. "Интересно. Очень интересно." (Interesting. Very interesting.)

Natasha chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Успокойся, Елена. Мы просто общаемся." (Calm down, Yelena. We're just communicating.) She turned to you, switching to English with ease. "This is my sister, Yelena. She tends to be a bit... protective."

Yelena smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "A bit? That's an understatement." She pushed off the doorframe and approached, extending a hand toward you. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. I've heard... well, nothing about you," she joked, her tone lightening the atmosphere.

You shook her hand, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden shift in the room's dynamics. "Nice to meet you too, Yelena," you managed, trying to keep up with the rapid changes in conversation.

Yelena nodded, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned back to Natasha. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know everything's taken care of." She paused, a more serious expression crossing her face. "But we should talk later."

Natasha nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Of course. We'll catch up in a bit."

With that, Yelena gave you one last curious glance before making her way out of the room, leaving you alone with Natasha once more. The interruption had brought a new energy into the space, a reminder of the world Natasha inhabited—a world that was clearly more complicated and dangerous than you had initially realized.

As the door closed behind Yelena, Natasha turned her attention back to you, her expression softening. "Sorry about that," she said with a small sigh. "My sister can be a bit... overbearing at times. But she's good at what she does." She took another sip of her wine, her eyes locking onto yours once more. "Now, where were we?"

"So that's your sister, which means she's the White Widow?" you asked, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness. The realization hit you that you were in the presence of not just one but two of the most formidable figures in the city's underworld. Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable as she sipped her wine.

"Yes, she is," Natasha confirmed, her tone matter-of-fact. She set her glass down, leaning back in her chair with an air of casual authority. "But enough about that part of my life," she continued, her voice deepening and becoming gravelly. The sound sent a shiver through you, resonating with a magnetic pull that made your pulse quicken.

Natasha's eyes bore into yours, her gaze intent and focused. "I want to know more about you." Her words were not just a request but an invitation, laced with a curiosity that seemed to cut through the haze of the evening.

You felt the warmth of the wine spreading through your system, your head starting to swim. The rich, velvety taste lingered on your tongue, mingling with the intoxicating presence of the woman before you. The room felt warmer, the air heavier with unspoken tension.

You swallowed, trying to steady your thoughts. "There's not much to tell," you began, feeling a bit self-conscious under her intense scrutiny. "I'm just a bartender, working to make ends meet. I've been at the restaurant for a few years now, and I guess I've gotten good at reading people. But my life... it's pretty ordinary compared to yours."

Natasha's lips curled into a small smile, a soft chuckle escaping her. "Ordinary? I find that hard to believe," she murmured, her voice low and smooth. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped together. "You must have seen and heard a lot from behind that bar. People's true selves often come out after a few drinks. It's a unique perspective."

Her words made you feel exposed, as if she could see right through you. The weight of her attention was both thrilling and terrifying. You took a deep breath, trying to focus on the moment. "I suppose you're right," you admitted. "It's interesting, observing people and their stories. But I never expected to find myself in a situation like this."

Natasha's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it?" She reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. The touch was light, almost tender, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you. "You're intriguing, [Your Name]. There's more to you than meets the eye."

Her words hung in the air, filled with a promise that made your heart race. You could feel the pull between you, the magnetic connection that seemed to draw you closer despite the differences in your worlds. The room felt smaller, the space between you charged with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

You blamed it on the alcohol when you leaned forward, your inhibitions slipping away with every sip of wine. The world around you blurred, leaving only Natasha's piercing green eyes and the intoxicating allure of her presence. It felt almost surreal, like a dream you never wanted to end.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips to hers. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. Natasha responded immediately, her lips warm and inviting against yours. The initial contact sent a thrill through your body, igniting a spark that quickly flared into a flame.

You also blamed the alcohol for the boldness with which she pulled you into her lap, her strong hands guiding you effortlessly. You settled onto her, straddling her thighs, your fingers tangling in her hair as the kiss deepened. Natasha's arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as her lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own.

The taste of the wine lingered on her lips, mingling with the heady sensation of being so close to her. Her hands roamed over your back, firm yet gentle, sending shivers down your spine. You felt her tongue brush against your lips, seeking entrance, and you parted them willingly, allowing her to explore further. The kiss became more passionate, more desperate, as if both of you were trying to drown in each other.

Natasha's touch was intoxicating, and the way she held you made you feel wanted, desired. Your hands trailed down to the open collar of her shirt, your fingers brushing against the smooth skin of her chest. The contact drew a soft moan from her, a sound that only spurred you on.

You couldn't tell if it was the wine or the intensity of the moment, but everything felt heightened. The heat of her body against yours, the taste of her lips, the scent of her, mint—it all blended together, creating a heady mix that made your head spin. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you lost in the kiss.

For a moment, nothing else mattered. Not the grandeur of her mansion, not the complexity of her life, and certainly not the consequences of your actions. It was just you and Natasha, caught in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

Lost in the intoxicating heat of the moment, you barely noticed when Natasha effortlessly lifted you from her lap. Her strength surprised you, but there was something undeniably alluring about being in her arms, your bodies pressed close as she carried you with ease. Your lips left hers only to trail a series of kisses down her neck, tasting the warmth of her skin. You felt the rapid beat of her pulse under your lips, a testament to the shared urgency between you.

As she ascended the grand staircase, your mouth continued its exploration, planting soft kisses along the curve of her neck. You nipped at her skin, leaving a trail of marks in your wake. Natasha's breath hitched, a low growl escaping her throat, the sound sending a thrill through you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the heady mix of desire that consumed you both.

Natasha carried you through the elegantly decorated hallways, the grandeur of her home barely registering in your haze. All you could focus on was the feel of her body against yours, the scent of mint making you dizzy, and the electric connection that pulsed between you.

The journey felt both like an eternity and a blink of an eye. You were vaguely aware of the doors she passed through, the soft click of them closing behind her. Finally, she carried you into a spacious bedroom, the décor understated yet luxurious, a testament to her refined taste. The bed, large and inviting, became the focal point of the room.

Natasha gently laid you down on the plush bed, her eyes dark with desire as she leaned over you. Her fingers brushed over the marks you'd left on her neck, a smirk playing on her lips. "Leaving your mark, are we?" she teased, her voice a low purr that sent a shiver down your spine.

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of exhilaration and anticipation. "Couldn't help myself," you replied, your voice breathless. Your fingers reached out, tracing the line of her jaw, feeling the smoothness of her skin. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, every touch and glance charged with an intensity that made your heart race.

Natasha's eyes softened, a warmth in them that belied her usual cool demeanor. She leaned down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, her hands sliding up your sides with a possessive urgency. The world outside ceased to exist as you lost yourselves in each other, a tangle of limbs and whispered breaths. The night stretched out before you, filled with the promise of more to come, a whirlwind of passion and discovery that neither of you were eager to escape.

===========

When you awoke the next morning, a dull throb echoed in your head, and the unfamiliar comfort of the sheets around you registered as too luxurious to be your own. You blinked groggily, only to wince as the bright light streaming through the windows made your vision pulse with pain. Quickly, you covered your eyes with your hand, slowly adjusting to the brightness. As you squinted them back open, the unfamiliar surroundings reminded you that you weren't home.

The events of the previous night came rushing back, a blend of passionate moments and stolen touches with Natasha. You looked around the room, taking in the elegant décor and the subtle scent of mint lingering in the air. It was a beautiful, well-appointed space, clearly reflecting her refined taste. As your eyes landed on the bedside table, you noticed a glass of water and a small bottle of medicine. Next to them lay a folded note. Curiosity piqued, you reached for the note and unfolded it, a small smile tugging at your lips as you read the familiar handwriting.

"I'm down the hall in my office. I wanted to let you sleep. Feel free to put on the clothes on the chair in the corner. I had someone go out and buy them for you this morning. I hope I got your sizes right. -Tasha"

The gesture was thoughtful, and it made your heart flutter. Natasha had clearly thought about your comfort, even after the whirlwind of the previous night. You set the note down and took the medicine with a grateful sip of water, hoping it would help ease the headache pounding in your skull. The cool liquid was refreshing, and you felt a little more awake as you placed the empty glass back on the table.

With a deep breath, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up. The room spun slightly, but you steadied yourself, making your way to the chair in the corner. Draped over it was a set of neatly folded clothes, clearly new. You ran your fingers over the fabric, appreciating the soft, high-quality material. Natasha had taken the time to ensure you would be comfortable and well-dressed, a gesture that felt both intimate and considerate.

You quickly changed into the clothes, finding that they fit perfectly, as if tailored just for you. As you dressed, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness about seeing Natasha again. The events of the night before felt like a dream, and you were eager to see what the day would bring. You smoothed down the clothes, took a deep breath, and prepared to step out of the room, ready to face whatever awaited you beyond the door.

You checked yourself out in the mirror with a smile, appreciating how well the outfit suited you. The red plaid pleated skirt paired with the tight black long-sleeved V-neck was a bit more daring than your usual style, but it felt exciting. The addition of the thick thigh-high stockings added a playful touch, making you feel both confident and alluring. Satisfied with your appearance, you left the room and headed out into the hallway.

Upon spotting one of the maids, you politely asked for directions to Natasha's office. She nodded and led you there quietly, stopping in front of a dark wooden door from which Natasha's voice could be heard. The maid gave you a small nod, and you took a deep breath before opening the door.

As you entered, Natasha's eyes immediately found you, and a warm smile spread across her face. She gestured for you to come closer, her gaze filled with an appreciative gleam. You quietly made your way over, and once you were within reach, Natasha's arm snaked around your waist, pulling you onto her lap. The unexpected closeness made your heart race, and you bit your lip to suppress any noises as she subtly squeezed your thighs like a stress ball. The smirk on her face told you she was enjoying every moment of your reaction.

Natasha continued her conversation on the phone, her tone authoritative and calm. You sat there, trying to maintain your composure as her hands roamed over you, seemingly innocent but filled with intent. When she finally hung up the phone, she turned her full attention to you, her eyes raking over your body with an appreciative gaze.

"You look amazing, darling," Natasha murmured, her hands wandering over your curves, taking in every detail of your outfit. Her touch was possessive, yet gentle, as if she were savoring the moment.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "I'm assuming you picked this out for a reason? Is this how you like to dress your girls?" you asked, teasing her a bit.

Natasha's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she leaned back slightly, her hands still resting on your hips. "And boys," she added with a knowing grin. "What can I say? A cute little thing in a plaid skirt and tight shirt, all for me to see? It's a look I can't resist."

Her eyes wandered over you again, this time lingering on your chest. The intensity of her gaze made you feel a delightful mix of bashfulness and excitement. Natasha's admiration was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by her attention. It was clear she enjoyed the power dynamics at play, and you were more than willing to play along.

=====

As much as you were enjoying the attention from the city's most powerful and intimidating figure, a nagging doubt crept into your mind. It felt surreal, almost too good to be true. You couldn't shake the feeling that there had to be some sort of catch, something you were missing.

"Why me?" The question slipped out quietly, almost a whisper. The moment the words left your lips, you regretted it, feeling vulnerable and exposed. You kept your eyes down, afraid of what her reaction might be.

Natasha's hand gently lifted your chin, guiding your gaze to meet hers. Her expression wasn't harsh or intimidating, as you had feared. Instead, her eyes held a softness, a tenderness that caught you off guard. It was like looking into a tranquil meadow in Spring, calm and reassuring.

"Y/N, look at me," she repeated softly, her voice steady and sincere. "I took one look at you and knew I had to have you. If you had said no to anything, I would have left you alone. I would never make you do anything, понимать?" She asked, the last word rolling off her tongue in Russian, a language that sounded both beautiful and mysterious to your ears.

You weren't entirely sure what the word meant, but you repeated it back as best as you could, the unfamiliar syllables feeling awkward in your mouth. "Понимать," you echoed, sounding more like a child trying to mimic a word. Natasha's smile widened, clearly amused by your effort.

"It means 'understand,'" she explained, her voice warm and patient. You nodded, feeling a little more at ease.

"Capeesh," you replied with a playful smile, borrowing the phrase you knew from movies. Natasha's laugh rang out, a genuine, hearty sound that filled the room. It was infectious, and soon you found yourself laughing along with her, the tension from moments before melting away.

Natasha's laughter was a reminder that, despite her fearsome reputation, she was still human. In that moment, you felt a connection with her that went beyond the intimidating aura she carried. There was a genuine care in her words, a desire to reassure you and make you feel safe. It was a side of her that few probably ever got to see, and you felt privileged to witness it.

====

The following night, the bar was alive with energy, buzzing with the usual Friday night crowd. It was one of your busiest nights, and you thrived in the chaos, moving effortlessly behind the bar in a cropped top and booty shorts. The outfit, while bold, was a practical choice for the heat and energy of the night, and it certainly helped rake in tips from regulars and wealthy patrons alike. You danced and sang along with the music, mixing and pouring drinks with a flair that captivated everyone around you.

As the night went on, you caught sight of Natasha entering the bar. Her presence was impossible to miss; she exuded an aura of authority and elegance even in a crowded, lively place like this. Her eyes locked onto you, and for a moment, you felt a thrill of excitement. However, you quickly noticed a flicker of something darker in her gaze—jealousy, perhaps, or possessiveness.

Before you could fully process it, Natasha made her way through the crowd, her expression set and unreadable. She reached the bar and, without a second thought, grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the counter. The abruptness of her actions caught you off guard, and for a moment, the noise of the bar faded into the background.

You stood your ground, pulling your arm free from her grip. Natasha's eyes bore into yours, a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place. But you didn't back down; this was your space, your job, and you weren't about to let anyone, not even her, dictate your actions here.

"This is my job," you said firmly, your voice cutting through the tension. "This pays my bills. I know what I'm doing, Tasha. Don't think I'm gonna change just because you've walked into my life."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Natasha's expression softened slightly, her initial anger giving way to a more thoughtful look. She seemed to consider your words, her eyes searching yours for understanding.

After a beat, Natasha sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she nodded. "I understand," she finally said, her voice calmer. "I just... I don't want anyone else looking at you the way I do."

You couldn't help but smile at her admission, a warmth spreading through you. "They can look all they want," you replied with a playful wink. "But that doesn't mean they get to touch."

Natasha's lips curved into a small smile, a hint of relief in her eyes. "Fair enough," she conceded, her tone lightening. She leaned in, her voice low and intimate. "But don't be surprised if I get a little protective. I can't help it."

You chuckled, the tension between you easing. "As long as you remember that I can handle myself," you teased, leaning closer. "Besides, it's fun making them think they have a chance."

Natasha smirked, her hand brushing against your arm in a subtle, reassuring gesture. "You're something else, you know that?" she murmured, her eyes twinkling with a mix of admiration and affection.

With that, she released you, letting you return to your work. You felt a sense of satisfaction, knowing that you had stood your ground and asserted your independence. As you went back to serving drinks and entertaining the crowd, you caught Natasha watching you from the corner of your eye.

As the night began to wind down, the usual chaos of closing time set in. Patrons stumbled out, leaving behind a mix of laughter and lingering energy. You were busy behind the bar when a particularly drunk guy decided to try his luck, getting handsy in a way that made your skin crawl. Before Natasha could even react, your reflexes kicked in. With a swift motion, you pulled out a small knife from under the bar and slammed it down between the man's fingers. The blade glinted in the dim light, the threat unmistakable.

"Try that again, and you won't just be losing a finger," you warned, your voice flat and devoid of emotion. The man froze, his eyes widening in fear as he registered the seriousness of your tone. The reality of the situation must have hit him hard, as his face paled, and he turned his head to vomit beside him.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated by the mess. "Buck! Clean up, please!" you called out. Bucky, your coworker and the bar's bouncer, quickly stepped in, escorting the stumbling man out while one of the busboys hurried over to clean up the mess. You wiped down the counter, your expression cool and unbothered, as if this was just another night on the job.

Natasha, who had been observing the scene from a distance, made her way over, leaning against the bar with a smirk playing on her lips. You sauntered over, mirroring her posture as you leaned in close. Her eyes were darker than usual, stormy like a spring day brewing with tension and excitement.

"That was hot. I didn't think you were capable of something like that," Natasha's voice was husky, laced with admiration and a hint of surprise.

You chuckled softly, the sound low and confident. "I used to work in a dive bar before this. I learned how to defend myself. I don't even blink at it anymore," you replied, a lithe confidence in your voice. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against hers in a teasing kiss. "I've just gotta grab my tips and count the drawer, and then I am all yours, Tasha," you murmured, a smirk playing on your lips as you pulled away.

The effect you had on Natasha was palpable, and the realization sent a thrill through you. She, the mob boss and infamous Black Widow, was visibly affected by your confidence and composure. The power dynamic between you was complex, a thrilling dance of control and attraction that neither of you could resist. As you moved to finish your tasks, you couldn't help but glance back at her, catching the hungry look in her eyes. It was clear that the night was far from over, and you both knew it.

As the night drew to a close, you finished up your duties behind the bar, efficiently counting the drawer and gathering your tips. The room was clearing out, leaving behind the quiet hum of a few lingering patrons and the soft clinking of glasses being cleaned. Natasha waited patiently, her eyes never leaving you, an enigmatic smile on her lips. The air between you crackled with unspoken promises and an undeniable connection.

Once everything was settled, you slipped out from behind the bar and walked over to Natasha. Without a word, she extended her hand, and you took it, feeling the warmth of her touch. The two of you left the bar, stepping into the cool night air. The drive to her mansion was quiet, filled with a charged silence that spoke volumes. You could feel the anticipation building, both of you eager for what was to come.

Back at her luxurious home, the door barely closed behind you before Natasha's lips were on yours, a passionate kiss that left you breathless. The power she usually wielded so effortlessly seemed to dissipate as she melted into you, her hands gripping your hips with a mix of need and vulnerability. You pulled away gently, looking into her eyes with a commanding intensity that made her shiver.

"Let me take control tonight," you whispered, your voice steady and confident. Natasha nodded, her gaze softening with trust and submission. It was a rare sight, seeing the formidable Black Widow willing to relinquish control, and it filled you with a sense of responsibility and power. You guided her to the bedroom, your movements assured and deliberate.

The night unfolded with a new dynamic. Natasha, always in control, allowed herself to be vulnerable, letting you take the lead. It was an intimate, tender exchange, a dance where you set the rhythm, and she followed. The shift in power felt natural, something both of you needed. For Natasha, it was a chance to let go of the burdens of leadership and dominance, to simply feel and be taken care of. For you, it was an opportunity to assert yourself, to embrace the power and control you often kept in check.

Afterward, you lay together in the quiet of her bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the city lights filtering through the windows. You held Natasha in your arms, her head resting on your chest, her breathing steady and calm. It was a serene moment, a quiet intimacy that spoke of trust and understanding.

Natasha broke the silence, her voice soft and earnest. "Stay with me," she said, lifting her head to look at you. Her eyes searched yours, vulnerable and hopeful. "I want you to stay with me. Not just tonight, but... longer. Let me take care of you, treat you right. I'll make sure nothing ever happens to you."

Her words were filled with sincerity, and you could see the depth of her feelings in her gaze. It wasn't just a simple request; it was a promise, a commitment. Natasha, who always seemed so self-assured and in control, was offering you a piece of her heart, opening herself up in a way few ever got to see.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'd like that," you replied, your voice warm and tender. "I want to stay with you, Natasha."

A smile spread across her lips, genuine and full of relief. She leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, a silent agreement sealed with affection. As you held her close, you both knew this was just the beginning of something deeper, something real. It was a new chapter, a chance to explore a relationship built on mutual respect, trust, and love.

In that quiet moment, wrapped in each other's arms, you both felt a sense of peace and fulfillment. Natasha had found someone she could trust to take control when needed, and you had found a place where you could be both strong and cherished. It was a perfect balance, a harmony that promised a future full of possibilities. As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

[wifeofnatasharomanoff]

could i request a mob nat oneshot from that universe seeing nat as a mom to her kid? it says we have a kid and it doesn’t need to be overly fluffy or anything… just curious what this badass mob boss looks like as a mom

HAPPINESS

WARNINGS: a bit of violence, gunshots, cute family moments, brief angst, fluff

RELATIONSHIP: natasha romanoff x f!reader

a/n: lol me after not posting for months 😅

AU: Darkest Nights

You wake up to the sounds of laughter in the bedroom, turning, you notice the side beside yours on the bed is empty. Where were the noises coming from? You sat up on the bed to see Natasha on the floor, a batman action figure in her hand and a toy car in the other. Her red hair was up in a loose braid and you could barely see the front of her face properly, but the one face you did see was a baby boy. Well – not really a baby more like a toddler. Except he wasn’t turning two for another few months. His chubby, rose-tinted cheeks were puffed up and small but loud giggles erupted from him. Natasha heard rustling from the bedsheets and looked up at you to see that you were already up. “Did we wake you up, babe?” she asked, her eyes were on you but she still kept her focus on the baby, making sure he wasn’t putting anything he wasn’t supposed to in his mouth. Some toys they make for babies are too small, Alex was teething and liked chewing on his toys sometimes. 

The corners of your lips curled into a smile, “No,” you chuckled, moving your hair strands away from your face. “It’s past 10, I was bound to wake up by now.” You reassure her. “Oh, good – I mean, it’s just you looked peaceful. For once.” you narrow your eyes as you throw the blanket that was draped over your body off yourself. “And who’s fault is it that I’m never at peace?” you retorted, getting up from the bed. She winced, “sorry, krasivaya.” you laughed at the sarcasm that lied beneath her words and lightly threw a smaller pillow from the bed towards her. “Jerk.” she caught the pillow and set it next to her, “c’mere, baby.” her arms were long enough to reach up to your hips while you were folding the blankets. Alex squealed, his stubby little hands moved up and down in agreement. “See, even our son wants mommy to play with us.” Natasha said, her hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled you to the carpet on the floor. “Natasha!” you shouted, playfully shoving her hand away, as she burst out laughing, the baby didn’t know any better and laughed along with her. 

“You’re unbelievable. I hope you know that.” she smirked at what you had said before responding, “I think I’m believable enough, how else is–” you interrupt her, “whatever you’re going to say, don’t say it. I’m positive it isn’t appropriate.” Natasha’s hand rested on your shoulder, “Okay, I’m not that bad.” she paused, “maybe.” 

“Momyy!!” Alex mustered up a word, sliding his mini spiderman toy over to you. “You want mommy and mama to play with you, lovebug?” you smile, grabbing the toy and giving it back to him. He nodded. “Alright, you can be little spiderman, mama will be batman and –” you turn to Natasha, “what will I be?” you ask. “And mommy’s barbie!” she excitedly says to the boy as she hands you a barbie doll. “A happy family, aren’t we?” she cupped your face before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m barbie? Seriously?” she grinned without a thought, “no, you’re prettier than barbie, baby.” 

“You’re such a sweet talker, darling.” you turned your attention back to Alex, dramatically gasping before speaking once more. “Oh my goodness, where's spiderman’s car?” the baby gasped as if he was missing a car, “oh look! There it is!” you gave the car to Natasha before Alex got the chance to grab it from you. 

“Oh, no! Batman stole your car, spiderman. Go steal it back from him!” you accused Natasha and pointed at her, immediately, Alex crawled over to her and started to lightly punch her, in a poor attempt to get his car back. Which of course, didn’t do much to her at all. “You can’t have this car, it’s mine now, spiderman!” Natasha took the car in her hand and raised it up in the air to where the boy couldn’t reach. 

The sound of glass shattering pulled both you and Natasha away from playtime. “Natasha, wh—” you heard it again, except this time you saw the window beside your nightstand break. “Get the gun under the bed and take Alex.” her voice was stern, as if she was ordering you. Your eyes widened as fear crept up your spine, “Natasha, what was that?” you heard it again, but this time there wasn’t any glass to stop the noise, it was clear that it was a gunshot. You pulled a box from under the bed and took a pistol out, grabbing Alex into your arms, you slowly stood up to not gain attention from movement in the bedroom. “Darling, I– where will we go?” unshed tears pooled in your eyes as your bottom lip quivered, “as of now, go to the bar. Look for Yelena, and she’ll know where to take you.” 

You gently touched her arm, “Are you not coming with us?” she shook her head, “it’ll cause too much commotion, they’ll know you’re with me. I’ll find you. I’ll find you both. Don’t worry, baby.” you blinked back the tears to stop them from dropping, “Nat. you said this wouldn’t happen, you promised that they weren’t going to find us… I thought we were finally getting back to our normal lives!” she pulled the both of you close, kissing your forehead, cheeks, the top of the baby’s head. “I know, I’m sorry, baby, I’ll fix this. I’m so sorry, I love you both, so much. Trust me, I’ll deal with them and we’ll come back together before you can blink, krasivaya.” Natasha kissed your lips once more, “I love you.” she wiped away your tears, “don’t die.” the smile you had faltered for a moment when you said that, knowing that there could be a possibility that for an instance something could go completely, and terribly wrong. “I won’t. C’mon, you know me better than that, baby.” you let out a dry chuckle at her trying to lighten the mood. “Go. I’ll be back.” Natasha’s protective hold was gone, you simply nodded. Another gunshot could be heard from the other side of the house, you didn’t want Alex to cry so you covered his ears. “I love you too.”

[a-spes]

| THE SHOT YOU MISSED - One shot (3k).

| Summary - you're spending a day at the fair with your girlfriend, the sweetest mob boss that possibly exists and she makes sure that you've a good day.

| Tags & warnings - mob boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, just a fluff writing, slight angst (?), beginning of a panic attack, guns, domestic domination (kinda), Natasha is the sweetest in that.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO REQUEST

You’re taking a deep breath, trying to chase away the tension from your shoulders. There is only one cartridge left in the gun you have been given, so you already know that you won’t have a second chance: if that shot doesn’t hit its target, the mission will be a failure, and it���s not an option. The stakes are too high for you to miss that one. 

You’re doing your best to ignore your surroundings, a difficult thing to do when you’re used to paying attention to everything, especially when being in a crowded place. You could hear the conversations of those around you, the screams and laughs alongside the footsteps of the children running on the asphalt. They were meters away but it was still piercing your eardrums. Even your own breathing started to be unbearable, it was fast and loud because of the anticipation and stress.

The weapon is stable, you’re maintaining it with a firm grip despite the slight trembling of your hands. You have been in this position for several minutes, and your muscles are starting to ache. 

You have to do it, now.

There is nothing left to divert your attention, and you are eventually able to forget about everything else. For a moment, you can’t hear anything, you only see the target that is right in the center of your sights. A pressure from your finger, a clatter that rings in your ears, and just like that the bullet is gone, straight toward your target.

“Fuck!” you screamed, and it takes all the control you possess to not throw the plastic weapon when you see that you missed it. 

You ignore the way the showman glanced at you when you screamed, a mixture of annoyance and satisfaction. You have been here for almost half an hour and you didn’t move an inch, refusing to go back to your girlfriend with empty hands. But sometimes determination isn’t enough, all you’ve managed to do is to pop a balloon or two, but you need more if you want to get that coveted prize.

When your hand reaches into your jacket’s pockets, you’re unpleasantly surprised to find nothing. The desperation with which you are now searching isn’t enough to reveal one last coin and you realize that you’ve spent everything you were given by Natasha, which means the fun is over for tonight.

It is already over and you weren’t even good enough to win a little something.

You had no other choice than going back to your girlfriend with nothing to give her, which you find embarrassing because she will obviously ask what took you so long and you didn’t want to admit your failures, not in front of the woman you love. The second she saw you, she stopped talking with the rest of the group to focus all her attention on you, noticing the way you were avoiding her gaze. As you are trying your best to get over your frustration, she is running her finger over your furrowed brows.

“What's happening, sweetie? You’re tense,” she told you, she knew something was wrong the moment she glanced at you, there is nothing that could escape her gaze.

“I lost, again,” you mumbled, not really wanting to talk more about it, especially because you knew she would react that way: you wanted nothing more than to rip that smirk off her face.

“Oh, baby … come here” she cooed, trying to hide her smile - but she just can’t help it.

She opens her arm and you wait no more than a second before throwing yourself into her embrace. The moment she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug, all your frustration is gone.

She is good when it comes to ease your worries: she spent the next hour dragging you everywhere, and you’re sure you’ve tried every ride at least twice. She even bought you cotton candy despite her strict rules about sweets, just to make sure you smile again.

At some point, you were separated from her, you let go of her hand for one second, just enough time to drink some water, but also for your girlfriend to disappear. She probably told you where she was going, but you hadn’t heard because of the screams and those missed words are the reason you’re now panicking.

You are turning around again, and again, and again, but it’s useless, you are lost without her at your side. Every time you think you spotted her red hair in the crowd, it turns out that it isn’t her and the minutes start to feel like hours.

You're being manhandled by the crowd, trying to sort out your thoughts until a hand comes to rest on your shoulder and pulls you out of your torment. You turn sharply, but fear is replaced by relief when you realise it's only her. 

She doesn’t like to see you like this, with tears in the corner of your eyes, and she hates it even more knowing that she caused this. She wasn't expecting you to react that way, as she only left for a few minutes and this view almost makes her feel bad. Almost, because she knows that what she has brought you will make up for her mistake.

“I got a surprise for you…,” she said, but it was not much of a surprise as you could already see the stuffed toy she was trying to hide behind her back.

It is a black dragon that is almost your size, you saw it at the stand where you were playing earlier. You’ve spent dozens of minutes and dollars in that game without winning anything so you can’t believe that it took her less than five minutes to come back with the biggest prize.

“How did you do that?! It was impossible to win anything!” you exclaimed as the woman hands you the stuffed toy. 

You immediately hug it, squeezing the dragon as tight as you can. It is the fluffiest and you’re already loving it. If you are a bit surprised that Natasha got you something that big, you’re trying to not think too much about it. She always tells you no for everything that could ruin the aesthetic of her house so you want to enjoy the plushie as much as you could before she changes her mind and takes it back.

“Thank you, I love it so much,” you told her, not letting it go, which made her laugh - the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard. 

Even her knows that she’ll eventually regret it, but for the moment the smile on your face makes it all worth it. It became even more important than her house’s décoration.

“But?” she asked, frowning when she heard your tone, knowing that something else was keeping your mind busy.

“There is not but,” you replied, and this time it is your turn to frown at her question.

“I know when you’re lying, love,” she said, her hand brushing your hair away from your face so she could admire every feature of your face.

“... god, I hate when you do that, you’re so annoying,” you mumbled, perfectly knowing that she was right. You bury your face in her shoulder, trying to hide your embarrassment. 

Even when you try your hardest to keep your thoughts for yourself, you are unable to do so. There is nothing you can hide from the woman because she is too good at reading people, her eyes seeing everything.

“Then tell me what’s in your mind, and maybe I'll stop being annoying,” she said, trying to hold back a laugh. She won’t say it because she doesn’t want you to be mad at her for real, but she finds it cute when you’re angry.

“I-didn’t-want-a-stuffed-toy-I-was-trying-to-win-one-for-you,” you replied, talking as fast as you could in hope she won’t retain anything of your rambling - which was doomed to failure.

You are a bit embarrassed by the situation because she succeeded so easily where you didn’t. For once, you wanted to be the one to give her a present, something you rarely have the chance to do because she is always the one who spoils you, but somehow she managed to turn the situation around once again, and you hate it.

She chuckles, relieved that it was nothing too serious. She gently grabs your chin to lift your head up and watch your expression. The moment she saw that hint of sadness in your eyes, she understood how affected you are by the situation, and she finds it surprising how something so insignificant in her eyes could be so important to yours.

“Then I could keep it and we’ll pretend that you won it for me, what do you think?” she asked, trying to cheer you up, not wanting to see that look on your face anymore.

“But that's not the same,” you whined, starting to complain about the unfair situation.

“Oh gosh, you're such a child,” she said, rolling her eyes at your answer - but even if she acts like your attitude is annoying her, deep down you know that she loves it. “Come,” she added, pulling you by the hand to guide you through the crowd after she handed the huge dragon to one of her men.

“Where are we going?” you tried to ask, but of course you don’t get an answer from the redhead. 

When you eventually get to the stand where Natasha won the dragon and you lost your money, the showman looks at you with a wry grin. He recognizes you as the one who spent dozens of dollars in his game without winning anything and he is probably hoping that you are back with more money.

But as soon as his eyes landed on the redhead at your side, his face completely changed. He knew he messed up the second he noticed how her hand is resting at the bottom of your back as she guides you toward his stand. She puts down a bill, which the man takes with caution, probably thinking that there is a trap somewhere. 

“We won’t need that,” she told him the moment the man made a move to give her one of the plastic weapons.

If he is about to protest, one glance from the woman is enough for him to understand that he would better keep his mouth shut. Instead, he watches her carefully as she takes her own gun out, a real one. 

You are a bit confused when she puts the gun in your hands : it is the first time it happens. She has never let you touch anything that could be dangerous, and it obviously included her weapons. It has nothing in common with the fake guns you are used to, it is heavier and more impressive.  

“Go on,” she said, trying to encourage you when she noticed you still haven’t made a move.

“What? With your gun?” you asked, unsure of what you are supposed to do now, “b- but I don’t know how.. I mean, I’ve never-,” you added when she nodded as an answer to your question, but she doesn’t give you time to argue. 

“I know,” she cut you, already knowing what you were about to say, “but I’ll help you, don’t worry about it,” she added, putting her hands on your shoulder to turn you around so you’re facing the targets instead of her.

She stands behind you, and if you can’t see her, you could feel her hands roaming over your body. You’re barely listening to the advice she is whispering in your ears, your mind being entirely focused on her hands. She moves your shoulders and legs in the right position, then she wraps your hands with hers to be sure that you won’t miss this time. It requires even more concentration than earlier to not let yourself get distracted by your proximity with the redhead, so close that you could feel her breath on the back of your neck. 

Even if it doesn’t feel right to do that, you shot. Three times, and you didn’t miss one, all the balloons popped under your eyes, granting you the victory. She immediately snatches the weapon from your hand, not wanting to leave it to you for more time than it’s necessary, but you don’t care, too happy about your victory.

“Theirs are rigged, you never stood a chance,” she simply said as if it was obvious, but it wasn’t. If she understood what was the problem in one shot, why didn’t you after you’ve tried countless times?  

You start to feel a bit stupid as the realization sinks in ; you blamed yourself for something that wasn’t even your fault, something you should've noticed on the first shot. You now understand why the showman was looking at you that way, he must have been happy to see someone that was dumb enough to spend all their money in his stand, from the beginning he knew you wouldn't win because no one that plays along the rules does. 

 “I am so proud of you, malyshka,” she added, the sound of her voice pulling you out of the spiral of your thoughts - a deadly one.

The lower part of your back is now pressed against the stand, she turned you around so she could admire every feature of your face.

“Stop lying,” you mumbled, the expression on your face not matching the smile on hers - she is smiling but you want to cry, fearing that you might have disappointed her because of your mistakes.

“I am serious,” she immediately said, not leaving you a chance to argue. Her hand gently grabs your chin, lifting your head until your eyes meet hers. “It even makes me want to see you try with live targets now, you must be so hot…,” she continued, her thumb brushing your cheek as she gets lost in the pleasant scene her mind is playing.

But you are not enjoying it as much as she does. A shiver of disgust shakes your body at this simple image, the one of your hands covered in the blood of your victim.

You are not a murderer, nor a monster.

Even after meeting the redhead and being dragged into her chaotic life, you’ve never done a thing that was illegal. If you know about her activities, she always makes sure that you are nothing more than a witness. She likes her women to be innocent, she used to toss them as soon as she felt their souls started to be corrupted, but she was slowly changing her mind. 

For the first time, she wants to see her sweet thing with blood on her back. There is nothing that could please her more than to see the glimpse of darkness in your eyes growing until you are too deep in it to step back. 

For the first time she wanted to fully introduce her girl to her reality.

She wanted to corrupt you as much as she wanted to protect your innocence. There is no word to describe how much she appreciates this oblivious expression of yours and, right now, she is not missing a thing about the one on your face. She revels in the mixture of fear and disgust she could read on your face.

“I was joking,” she sighed, “so don’t worry your pretty little head with that, okay baby?” she said and you believed her, nodding.

You couldn’t see the smirk on her face - the only hint that she was lying - because she leans forward to kiss the top of your head, her hand brushing your temple one last time before she pulls away. You immediately whine, trying to grip on her arm so she wouldn’t leave but this only makes her laugh. 

“Go get your prize now, so we can get home,” she said, ignoring the pleading look you’re giving her to gesture towards the showman.

You turn around and, indeed, you see that the man was impatiently waiting for you to make your choice, he probably couldn’t wait to get rid of you and your problematic girlfriend. You immediately point to one of the biggest stuffed toys, similar to yours, but before the showman could make a move, Natasha shook her head, showing that she disagrees with your choice. She takes your arm and gently moves it so you’re now pointing at the shelf where the smallest plushies are displayed.

“It’s one of those or nothing,” she said, her stern tone leaving no room for discussion. 

She obviously doesn’t care about the pout on your face. She considers that she has already been pretty nice by gifting you that giant stuffed toy, so she definitely won’t bring a second one home.

“Fine …,” you replied, frustrated that you couldn’t freely choose, but it was the perfect opportunity to make her regret her decision.

You missed nothing of her expression when the showman took the strawberry bunny that was on the shelf. She rolled her eyes, obviously you choose the most childish of all, but she decides that the smile on your face as you’re handed it to her is worth everything. She gladly takes it, and even if she tries to pretend she doesn’t like it, you don’t fall for her lies. The kisses she lays on the top of your head, then on your lips, are enough to convince you to keep your sneaky words to yourself, enjoying the moment the two of you were sharing.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO REQUEST

[notlhecxzsa]

Accidents - Scarlett Johansson

Hiii, this is a very very sensitive fic and everything is not a real happenstance. Hope you enjoy!

WARNING ⚠️: Forced sex, super mean drunk Scarlett, physical abused, mental abused, hurt reader.

~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~

You never had a very good past relationships.

But, that was before Scarlett.

At the age of eighteen, you started having boyfriends who did nothing but to hurt you, mentally, and sometimes... physically. You had 3 boyfriends inside of 5 years, 18 to 23, and that was it, you are now 29.

You were done with love, you've always been saying that to yourself after the last relationship you had, which very far much more toxic that the two just broke you mentally, but the last one didn't just broke you mentally, he physically hurt you.

You were a broken chaotic mess for almost 3 years, not believing in love anymore and the other things along that word, but everything changed when you met Scarlett. Scarlett changed everything, so willingly, she badly wanted you to be hers, just as she will be yours that she didn't gave up on courting you even though it took her 3 years, almost 4.

You two met, instantly clicked on, became best friends till she caught feelings for you, which she soon confessed. She knew about your past relationships, hell, she knew about everything. She became your shoulder to lean on, and you became her new found hope to continue on living inside her dull world that is full of toxicity with having sex with random girls, or random artists and going off to the club as her rest.

To say the least, she understand why you were very scared on letting her in to you romantically, though, you would be lying if you said that you didn't caught any feelings for the woman. Ever since the two of you developed your relationship, you felt it, you saw it, you're not an idiot to not see her obvious movements and steps that is screaming the words; "I Like You."

You knew it from the start, and then she confessed, but you weren't ready for anything. But, Scarlett being the charming woman she is, and ofcourse, with all her wealth, she did everything just to get you.

She changed, for you.

She changed you, just like how you changed her.

She stopped sleeping around, she focused on her work, but the rest of her time was spent on you without fail. Though, being a doctor can be a really busy job at times, it didn't stopped Scarlett to woo you and was determined to wait hours and hours until you're free. Most of the timesz she would always find herself outside of your footsteps, outside the house that your parents brought for you for your 25th birthday, wanting you to stop renting. She would always have something in her hands that she brought for you, most of the times, it was foods and anything that she thinks you might like, or anything the she likes for you to wear.

God, everything she'd done for you.

You guys are now 7 months in a relationship, everything was going well, no fights or anything bad has happened between the two of you, fortunately. Until, now.

You went to a party, a friend of hers, she wanted you to tag along, she always wanted you to tag along, being this cocky woman she is, wanting to show everyone that she got the most beautiful girl, it was no lie though, you are a very beautiful girl, a worth giving everything up for.

Along the years, you glowed up, becoming into this woman that looks so well written by a goddess, everyone wants you but, mostly for pleasure, nonetheless, it was no lie that anyone could easily fell for you.

But, being described as that brought some cons to you.

Being sexualized here and there, recieving so many catcalls, some would get have the pass cards, but not when you're with Scarlett, who will definitely punch the shit out of them not even a second.

But, right now, someone's making you feel very, very uncomfortable, and Scarlett's not here, infact, she's nowhere to be seen, which you mentally cursed her for taking so long to wherever she went.

"Come on, don't be such a stranger, sweet face. Why don't we go and have some fun, I'm sure it's lonely to be alone..." A drunken, beefy man from your side, who is invading your personal space already, said drunkenly.

You wanted to get up, maybe punch his face if you would get a chance since he's been bothering you for what felt like an hour already, then run to Scarlett, and get enveloped in her beefy arms.

But, this man got you caged in his arms, almost caged in his arms. And you were scared, you're not really that good in socializing, and running from him would for sure will bring some audience to look at you, and Scarlett might come looking for you in just a few seconds already, so you just scooted as far as you can, only for the man to pull the stool you're sitting on closer to him, almost making tears welled up in your eyes, thankfully, you girlfriend is just in time.

"Hey!"

~~~~~~~~~

You don't know where she was going with her hurtful words.

She was a bit tipsy. A little bit tipsy for your liking.

It wasn't your fault. You know it wasn't your fault. You tried your best to make him go away, she might now saw that, but she saw how you scooted away from him before a fight between her broke out. Leaving the man's face bleeding before she practically gripped your wrist while her other hand went to your waist possessively.

She was almost carrying you out, she guided you to your seat in the red sports car she owned out of many. She slammed the door in front of your face, too harshly for your liking, it made you flinch, it made the beats of your heart became fast than it already was.

God, you know, it wasn't your fault. But, right now, it feel like it is. With all the words being thrown at you as soon as you both stepped inside the house, you following after her, wanting to know what's gotten her upset, wanting to know why she didn't hold you like she does whenever she sees you like this, in fear.

You were very scared.

Now, you felt more scared with her actions and confused with the way she's treating you right now.

Maybe, she wasn't just a little bit tipsy after all.

"I told you that I would get back immediately. I went to get us some drinks, but then you decided to whore yourself around behind my back. What were you thinking, Y/n?" She shouted, throwing the set of keys on the coffee table as you followed her to the living room.

You watched as she paced around the room, while you just stand there with your arms around yourself, as if it will protect you on what is coming. As if it would give you the comfort that you lack off, the comfort that Scarlett could only give.

She rubbed her face up and down with both of her hands, before the both of it raked her pixie hair. "Fuck, Y/n!" She stomped her foot on the ground, before turning around to look at you appropriately.

Her suit is messy and her sweats are a around the place. You don't know where she was being mad and upset about. Her words hurt. It was the first time she called you that, this was the first time she acted like this around you.

You didn't like the way she is acting.

The way she cursed your name in a harshly manner.

The way she was so mad at you for no complete reason.

"Wh-why are- w-what are you saying-" You couldn't even get to finish your sentence when she was again, shouting at you.

"Oh please..." She laughed as if it was funny, but now, tears were already streaming down your face as your heart started to hurt badly. She was drunk, maybe she can't see you clearly, she can't see the tears and how you started shaking so badly. "Don't act so innocent now. God, fuck!" She shouted once again, pacing around the room.

"How- god, Y/n. You don't- you don't know how that hurt me-" You couldn't help but to cut her off. What did hurt her? Did something hurt her the way you were hurting right now?

"What did? Did- did I do something-" Once again, it feels like you weren't allowed to talk when she cut you off, storming towards you that you couldn't help but walk backwards in fear.

"Who fucking told you to interrupt me?!" She was screaming straight to your face, before you felt her strong hands gripping your small biceps.

"Ah, Scar-" You whimpered, and she seemed to snapped out a little as she took her hands back before turning  around, her hands on her head as if she's going crazy.

You think so too.

She's going crazy.

She's hurting you.

You were sobbing when you heard her sniffles. 

She once again turned around to face you, there was something dark and dull in her eyes. You knew, in that moment, she's not the Scarlett you know. And, you could only pray to the gods above to bring that Scarlett back to save you from this woman in front of you.

She walked towards you until she was towering over you already. You couldn't help but to bow your head and tighten your arms around yourself.

"Do you know him?" She asked in a very darkened voice, you can't tell if it was just the alcohol speaking or it was really her. Your Scarlett.

"N-no, I don't..." This time you looked up at her, while you felt ome of her arm coming up to one of your biceps gripping it just as tight as earlier, that you tried to get away because of how much it hurts.

"The truth, Y/n. Tell me thr truth." Now, one of her hands was gripping both of your jaws, you couldn't help but to hold her wrist with both hands, but she was strong.

Much more stronger than you.

You couldn't get away because she was holding you bicep tightly.

Can't she hear your sobs? She once said it hurt her to see you crying, in pain, but now, she seems like a very different person.

Maybe, this was just a dream. A bad dream that you need to awake.

"It's the truth, Scarlett. P-please, believe me..." You tried to take deep breaths because you felt you chest tightening along with your anxiety starting to kick in. "Please..." You begged to the unknown shakily.

She only chuckled a little before harshly taking her hand off of your face, making your face turn to the other side, before she once again, dragged you up into the stairs, then to your room.

Your feet was barely touching the floor as you tried to keep up with her big and heavy steps.

"S-Scarlett, it hurts..." You tried so hard to take your arm back, but to no avail, you didn't. Your heart is beating so loudly, it feels like it wants to get out of your chest as your mind started to spiraling into the darkess unknown where you found yourself being into years ago.

You don't want to get back there.

Oh god, you don't want to go back.

Moments ago, you found yourself trying to be set free from her painful grasp, but now, you found yourself being so defeated that you just conceded to the defeat and just let her have you in ways that you didn't know she'll have you.

You found yourself being forced down on the soft king bed, both of your wrists were gripped tightly by one of her hand on top of your head, her other hand forcing one of your legs apart.

God, she was so strong while towering you over.

She was ripping you apart with her manhood, she already taken you while being bent over to the bed, your feet was barely touching the floor, it was now the second time that she forced a climax in you.

You felt your body getting in and out of consciousness as you continued receiving hittings everywhere her hands chose to land on.

You just know that tomorrow, you will be black and blue. Bruises will be littered on your skin. God, how did you go to this?

You pleas and begs seemed to be unheard by her. Your loud and broken cries was muffled by her bruising kiss whenever she would put her lips on yours.

"Scarlett! P-please... Stop! R-red! Red! I-I can't- I can't anymore. It hurts!" You started, only to be smacked in the face.

"Isn't this what you want? Huh? I'm giving you what you want, Y/n! Or, you like it more when it's that man who's doing this. Do you like that? I bet you do." There comes her sinister laugh, before you knew it, she was already throwing you to the floor before continued to rutting in you.

Your vision started to become blurry, until your voice started to become slurry. You felt wet liquid started to stream its way down on your face starting on your forehead down to the floor.

You were laying on your stomach, she was moving so harshly and so fast behind you. The pain was too much that you starting to feel numb.

You felt your chest becoming more tight, and before you knew it, darkness have already swallowing you over.

[natsarrownecklacx]

Cruelty is an art:

I can imagine Nat having a knife kink, since the first chapter... Kind of just making r fuck herself on the handle or something

No because she 100% has a knife kink.

In an ALTERNATE universe: After the end of the last chapter Nat barges into the room and drags y/n out of the shower. She’d pin her down on the bed, r’s arms held above her head, and shove the flat of her blade between her legs. Nat makes her ride the cold metal for what feels like hours and edge herself over and over until she is a mess crying and begging Nat to let her cum.

Then, once she’s got the blade slick enough, Nat will tie y/n’s hands and legs to a chair and strip herself down to her black bra and underwear. She’ll hold eye contact with y/n as she fingered herself while sucking r’s arousal off the blade, her eyes rolling back and back arching as she comes on her fingers with the taste of you mixing with the tang of her own blood on her tongue <3

Series Masterlist

[sweet--escape17]

Tough looking Mob Boss Nat, Innocent looking Wanda in public...

But in private it's Subby mob boss Nat and Dom emo wanda hmmm.. just putting it out there 🏃����‍♀️💨

[writerslittlelibrary]

"Children aren't payment, dipshit"

masterlist

summary: the most feared mob in all of New York only has one rival, which happens to be your father’s mob. When it turns out he is indebted to the feared mob boss Natasha Romanoff, he uses the only thing he has to pay her, you…

pairing: Mob!Natasha x rival mob young reader

warnings: guns, violence, basic mob fic stuff ig :) 

genre: angst, fluff

words: 1339

a/n: this was an adorable idea! (I feel like this is trash, but I just have to get back into my writing flow)

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

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It has always been difficult, being the daughter of a dangerous mob boss. It wasn’t like you were forced to kill and train with your father’s minions, but you had been living a far from normal life, to say the least.

When you turned seven, your father had called you into his office. 

You had always been a nice and obedient girl, totally opposite of your father, so when he called you to him and told you you were going to stay with your aunties for a while, you believed it. Your father had sent you and your bodyguard to your room, telling you to pack all your important items. 

Once you had finished packing, your father had given you a hug and you had been brought to the car, your bodyguard driving you across town. 

However, once the car stopped at a large apartment building, you had started getting a bit suspicious. This isn’t where your aunties lived…

Your bodyguard had taken you out of the car, but you didn’t want to, leading to him dragging you out, dragging you up to the doors of the building. Once you had arrived at the doors, two women were standing there. One had blonde hair, and the other had black hair. The women with black hair grabbed your arm, allowing your bodyguards to walk back to the car and retrieve your bag, handing it to the blonde women.

After he did so, he walked back to the car and drove away. 

The two women entered the building, walking to the elevator and pressing the button that read ‘PH’. As soon as the doors closed, the women with black hair let go of your arm. However, despite her removing her grip, you still didn’t feel like you could move freely. You were fairly certain that one wrong move and she would be on you again. 

And so, you stood perfectly still, refusing to move, even when the elevator moved a bit. 

The two women barely acknowledged your presence, instead opting to look straight ahead. You felt uneasy standing in between them. 

Once the elevator stopped at the top floor, the door opened at the women with black hair grabbed your arm again, leading you out of the elevator and to a dark wooden door. The blonde haired women walked ahead, knocking on the door twice before waiting for a “come in” to be called from the other side. 

Once the approval was given, the two women walked in, dragging you after them. 

Inside the room was another woman. You recognised her immediately. Who wouldn’t? Your father had always warned you about her. She was the most feared mob boss that New York, or the world really, had ever seen. 

You were in the office of Natasha fucking Romanoff. Were you about to get killed?

The two women walked a bit further into the room, forcefully pushing you down on the chair in front of the desk. 

You didn’t dare protest, nor did you say a word. You were absolutely terrified. Your father had warned you about this women every single day of your life, refusing to let you go outside without protection because of her, and now he had knowingly sent you to her. What the hell was wrong with him?

After you were sat down on the chair, the women with black hair exited the room again, leaving you, Natasha Romanoff, and the blonde haired women in the room. 

“Thank you for bringing her up Carol, you can put her bag in her room,” Natasha spoke, dismissing ‘Carol’ before focusing her attention on you. 

Carol left the room, leaving you and Natasha Romanoff alone. 

“I’m sure you must be very confused, sweetheart, but don’t worry, you’ll be alright,” Natasha reassured, smiling kindly as she stacked a few papers and put them off to the side.

You took a moment, gathering the courage before you spoke. 

“Why am I here…?” you asked quietly, hoping not to disturb Natasha or step out of line.

Natasha smiled, turning to you once more. 

“Your father made some pretty nasty deals. Deals that he couldn’t follow through on. He needed to pay me something, and he didn’t have the money, so I demanded you instead,” Natasha explained, leaving you to look at her with a shocked face.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, sweet girl. I promise you were are much better company than your father’s mob ever was,” Natasha stated, smiling sweetly before she moved to get up, walking around the desk towards you. 

She extended her hand, motioning for you to grab it. 

“How about we go check out your new room?” she suggested, allowing you a moment to think before you nodded and hesitantly grabbed her hand, allowing her to pull you up. 

She led you out of the office, leading you through the pent house towards another door, which was a different colour than the rest of the doors. The door was a beautiful dark shade of your favourite colour, and while you thought your favourite colour would never go with the aesthetic of the apartment, for some reason Natasha made it work. 

She pushed the door open, allowing you to step inside and take in the room. It was beautifully decorated and exactly your style. 

Your eyes widened in excitement, jumping up slightly. You weren’t able to contain your excitement as you saw the room. It was perfect. 

Natasha smiled as she observed your reaction, letting go of your hand to allow you to look around. You did, running from place to place to explore all the play items placed in the cupboards, ending your little exploration by jumping on the bed. 

“I love it!” you yelled out, letting yourself drop on the bed. 

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

You had lived with Natasha for about three months now, and you were happier than you had ever been. Natasha never hit you if you did something wrong, and she played with you everyday. She was willing to drop all her work if you asked her to play dress up, or if you asked her to play with your dolls. 

You had never been more loved than you were now, and you were happy your father had offered you as payment to Natasha Romanoff. 

Her henge people also adored you. You would play with them as well, and everytime they happily played with you. Your favourite were Carol and Valkyrie. They were the two women that had brought you in on the first day, and they turned out to be your best friends. 

Little did you know that Natasha had known you father hit you at home. She knew the mob boss of the rival mob was not just any criminal. He didn’t have morals, or principles. He did what he did when he felt like it. He wasn’t a good person to those he cared about, so when Natasha found out he had a daughter, she knew she needed to investigate. 

She had sent a hengemen uncover to find out more about you, and what was reported back to her shocked her. 

You were hit whenever you stepped out of line, and you were not well taken care of at all. Once Natasha learned about your situation, she decided she had to get you out, setting up an elaborate deal she knew your father couldn’t get out of.

When you father unsurprisingly failed to follow through on his end of the deal, he was in large debt with Natasha, and she knew she could demand anything from him. 

And so, she demanded she would get you as payment, knowing your father couldn’t do anything but follow through. 

Over the months she had build a soft spot for you, and she was more than glad that she had done what she did. She saved you, and now you were happy. 

Natasha Romanoff may not have been the best human being on the planet, but to those she cared about, she could not have been better. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @daddipantherr @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216 @ravensinthedaylight

[rebeliz7]

Dress

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader 

Request: 90 sounds sexy and I want that with Wanda. 👀

90. “Please, remind me again why we’re having sex behind a tree?”

…

“Please, remind me again why we’re having sex behind a tree?” Wanda moans as you sneak your hand under her dress, and she wraps her arms tighter around you. 

“Do you really care why?” You ask against her ear, as your fingers slip down her slit and the lavender smell of her shampoo fills your senses. “Christ! You’re so wet.”

“Don’t tease.” She whines, making you smile at her growing desperation. 

Not that you aren’t desperate yourself, you are. It’s been such a long day, and undercover work is mostly fun but when your fiance wears the kind of dress that she’s wearing today, it becomes torture for you. 

You infiltrated an exclusive party in a fancy yacht, where you were surrounded by A list actors and producers and directors, that would have made you a bit excited to meet if you weren’t here to gather intel on one of the biggest mob bosses in modern history.

You both got in under the pretense of being the granddaughters of an acclaimed award winner director, who occasionally doubles as an informant for S.H.I.E.L.D. Now you are in the mansion of one of those actors, waiting till everyone else leaves so you can do your job and install a few cameras, so you can finally begin to build a substantial case against these people. 

With a swift movement of your wrist you slip one finger inside of her, making her gasp as she clings onto you for support. She’s so ridiculously wet that the thought of tasting her makes you feel so thirsty, and almost desperate to be back home. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this here,” she says with a smile as you move to capture her lips in a messy kiss. 

“This dress is ridiculously nice,” you tell her before you drop to your knees and she smiles mischievously, her hands on your shoulders as she leans against the truck, her bottom lip caught between her lips as she gets ready. 

“Accessible too.” She laughs as you run your hands up her legs, and she spreads her legs a little wider for you. 

“Would you two please, please turn off your coms?” Natasha’s voice comes through and Wanda pushes your shoulders instinctively, as you stand up quickly, heart in your throat. 

“Jesus, Romanoff!” You huff as Wanda hides her blushing face in your chest, and you struggle to get air back into your lungs. 

“The dress is sinful, we all agree, but you two are on a mission.” She says and you can hear the amusement in her tone, and you’d laugh but - 

“We?” You ask softly, Wanda’s hands gripping your waist as you run your hands down her back to calm her down. 

“Sorry,” Natasha says and laughter booms in your ear, laughter from the boys back at base. “But what did you two expect?” Natasha laughs softly, and Wanda whines against your chest. 

“Not for you all to act like adults, for sure.” You tell them and Wanda finally looks up at you, she’s still blushing but there’s a smile on her face now. 

“I can always just erase this memory from your heads,” she says lightly and Natasha groans, loudly. 

“Did you notice the guests are leaving? It’s time to move.” 

“We’re on it.” You speak before you push the little button close to your ear, and Wanda does the same.

“We’re never gonna hear the end of it,” she says as you kiss her softly. 

“Screw them.” You shrug and she chuckles, she knows how little you care about the opinion of others. “Let’s do this fast.” You kiss her again. “I can’t wait to taste you and finally get this dress off of you.”

“Turn. Off. Your. Coms.” Natasha’s voice has you pulling back again, and true to her word, you totally missed the off button. 

… 

[saphiccarma]

- The Red Means I Love You

Relationships - Mob Boss!WandaNat x Reader

Summary - Your father had always been a little wacky, always paranoid. He died a few months ago and you moved into abadoned apartment, but you never thought that he would be involved in a mob.

Warnings: Kidnapping (?), maybe the slightest bit dark Nat? Nothing serious today

Wanda Maximoff was well known for her cruelty. She was known to be harsh and unforgiving, a woman of power who made no exceptions. Anyone who dared to utter her name did so with respect, a reverence that was reserved for one other person. Her wife, Natasha Romanoff. She was known for being stern. A woman who commanded her people with an iron fist and didn't let mistakes slide.

They were two of the most famous mob mosses there was, with a few exceptions, and very few dared to cross their paths. It had taken them years to build their regime, to gather trusted members, and now that they had it, they weren't letting anything get in their way. They weren't letting even the smallest mistakes go.

Not that you knew that. When you had moved into your father's old apartment after he died, you thought nothing of it. At the time you were still living with your mother, fresh out of college, and needed a place to live. You applied to work at a hospital nearby and after being accepted, you moved into your father's place. It was a shaggy old apartment. Each shelf had a thin layer of dust, and you swear that the smell of cigarettes was permanent.

Digging around a bit, you had found a gun stashed under the bed, which was odd, and a knife hidden in the kitchen. Your father always had been a bit paranoid. Always muttering about how they were going to get him. Your mother had called him crazy which led to their divorce, but they had shared custody, so you still heard parts of his ramblings.

Your cheeks were a soft shade of pink from the chill in the air as you walked home. The blue scrubs you wore swished and crinkled and the gravel crunched under your feet. It wasn't the smartest idea, to be walking home late at night, but your phone was dead and you didn't have a car. You had also forgotten your pepper spray. Internally cursing yourself, you took a right, straight down the sketchy looking alley that smelled of alcohol and smoke. Inhaling sharply, you carefully began to scurry down it.

Before you had barely gone five steps, there was dull thud that you hardly registered in the back of your head. The world spun for a short moment before everything went black.

^__________^

A coppery tang filled your mouth, coating your cheeks and gums. Blinking blearily, you swiped your tongue along your teeth, distinctly tasting blood. Your entire body ached, a heavy weight pressing down on you. There were ropes tied around your wrists, you noted when you tried to move, and similar ones around your feet. You were sat on a wooden chair, one that creaked when you struggled.

The ropes dug into your skin, burning it and making the situation all the more uncomfortable. A distinct prick stung the back of your eyes as you glanced around the dark room. Water dripped lazily from the ceiling, falling in a repetitive pattern onto the floor. It matched the humid air that drifted around. Sweat formed on the back of your back and you could fell a small droplet drip down.

But there was no light. You could only hear the droplets, and despite being in here for a few moments, your eyes refused to adjust further than allowing you to see a door and the chair you were in. Twisting once more, you tried to free yourself from the painful restraints, but to no avail. They remained snug around your wrists and ankles.

The door swung open and lights were flicked on. You squeezed your eyes shut; the brightness surprising you. Faintly you heard footsteps along the concrete floor, and you forced yourself to look. A woman stood in front of you. Her hair was fiery red, a color that accented her green eyes, and it rolled down to her shoulders in perfect waves. She regarded you cooly, a look in her eyes that promised pain, yet devoid of any emotion.

"Ms. Y/L/N," she said lowly, huskily even, "I've wanted to meet you."

You flinched back when her hand came up to your face. Tears welled in your eyes. Gently, the tips of her perfectly manicured nails tapped the side of your face, tracing your cheekbone down to your chin. Just when you thought she would pull away, her nails dug into the sides of your jawline as she gripped your jaw. The force was painful. A small whimper escaped you as you tried to pull away. Key word being tried.

"Do you know who I am? I doubt your father ever bothered to enlighten you." She twisted your head side to side, her forest green eyes scanning you up and down as if you were a science experiment. "He spoke fondly of you."

A shaky breath was exhaled from your lungs as you tried to formulate words, "Who- Who are you?"

"Natasha Romanoff, your father's former boss."

Then finally, just as you thought she would draw blood, her hand released your cheek. Flexing your jaw, you stared at her oddly. She wore black combat pants with a matching skintight long sleeve shirt. There was a gun holstered to her thigh. Some things were clicking into place, like the gun you had found stashed in the apartment, or the giant pile of money, but the full picture hadn't come in yet.

"You have no idea, do you?" She was crouched now, her eyes level to yours as she leaned forward, "Your father was in great debt. It was a shame he was killed." Although her face showed pity, the jutting of her lower lip and the sad glimmer in her eyes, her tone held none. "But since he's dead, that debt has fallen onto you."

"How much did he owe you?" your voice was barely steady. It cracked every other word and made the tears in your eyes all the more prominent.

A small, amused, laugh escaped her. You wished to believe it was genuine, but it sounded nothing of the sort, "Oh he didn't owe me money. No, he owed me something much more valuable. He owed me time. Servitude. But he died before that could be filled out. You, however, are still alive."

"And if I can't?" The words were whispered softly as you kept your gaze to the ground. You could hardly hear Natasha's breath, your own overshadowing it. All that was audible was your own breath and the sound of your heartbeat in your eyes.

"Do you care for your mother?"

Her question sent a jolt of fear through you, one that sparked your veins and made you snap your head up.

"Don't hurt her!" you pleaded, tugging at your restraints, "Please, she did nothing."

The smile on her face could have been called sinister, "Oh darling," Natasha's fingers reached for your face again, ignoring your flinch, and gently tracing the side of your cheek, "I don't plan to. As long as you comply."

"I don't- I don't know how to do any of this stuff," you mumbled. You didn't want to do any of this stuff. From what you had gathered, Natasha ran a mob. Mobs hurt people. You had become a nurse to help people, to heal - not to hurt.

"I'll teach you," she said softly. For the first time in your interaction, her features lost a bit of their edge. It was hardly noticeable, just her lips loosening their frown and her jaw unclenching slightly. Out of the corner of your tear-filled eyes you saw her draw a knife from her boot. A violent flinch ran through you as you tried to squirm away. "Stay still," Natasha chided.

She sliced through your binds, the knife dangerously close to your skin. You didn't dare to move as she rose from her crouch, not until she gestured for you to follow. Frantically, you stood from the chair, wombling a bit due to the fact that your legs were asleep, and scurred after her. She walked with a certain air of confidence, one that had the guard outside the door saluting - even if it seemed slightly playful. The place she led you through was surprisingly nice compared to the room you were held in. The walls were a dark color, one that you would picture in medieval times, and it smelled of fresh wood and whiskey. Just the slightest bit.

Everything was utterly silent as you followed Natasha, your breath loud and obnoxious even as you tried to quiet it. Fear coursed through you, sparking every bit of you to life. You were still dressed in your scrubs, the comfortable material still holding up, but being rather loud as you walked. Leading you up to a set of doors, Natasha pushed them open, and you were met with a large set of mats.

Black mats were laid on the floor, a perfect square. A couple boxing bags hung in the corner of the room, dangling from a set of chains. There were a few times when your father had tried to teach you boxing, but he never got it stick. You had always been driven to help people rather than hurt. Even if it was self-defense.

As Natasha stepped onto the mats, waiting for you to do the same, you realized what was happening. Oh- she was teaching you now. Like now now. If you were scared before, you knew you were scared now, especially based on the way her fingers flexed and she smirked with her chin tilted up. Hell no. The most you knew about boxing was the stance and that was about it. A jab and backhand punch, maybe, but it had been so long ago when you learned.

"Come on," she encouraged, her voice laced with faux sweetness, "Let's go."

The words forced you into action, stepping onto the mat hesitantly, and attempting to match the stance she slid into. Yours was undoubtedly sloppier and way worse, but you were going to lose this fight anyway - there was no winning this one. Before you could even attempt to gain your bearings, Natasha's fist was in your face, pressing hard into your nose.

You stumbled back, faintly tasting blood as it dripped down to your lips. Squeezing your eyes shut you hardly noticed Natasha moving forward and her leg sweeping beneath you. A harsh thump echoed through the room as you fell onto the mat. The air in your lungs was forced out as you sharply exhaled, and the back of your head pounded with a dull pain.

With a small groan, you opened your eyes, only to see a disappointed expression. Natasha had her arms crossed, a firm frown settled on her face and her brows slightly furrowed.

Her foot nudged your side, "Get up. Again."

The two of you went at it for hours after that.

^___________^

You’ve worked for Natasha for about half a year now. It had become a routine at that point. You stayed at the base like everyone and worked hard, laying low and trying to blend in. For some odd reason, Natasha had taken a special liking to you. At least, that's what Bucky told you. Bucky was one of Natasha's oldest acquaintances, one of her most trusted people, and he oversaw some of your training.

"She likes you," he mumbled under his breath. You, covered in sweat and maybe a couple of tears, shook your head as you sat on the bench, denying the statement entirely. Based on the fact that Natasha beat you up for what felt like the thousandth time that month, she most certainly did not like you.

Natasha came onto the base every day aside from Sunday and would spend two to three hours training you. Whether it was teaching you how to shoot, how to wield a knife, or simple hand to hand combat. It was exhausting, training with her for hours until your entire body was sore and aching and then doing the same the next day. Slowly, it became easier, starting with simple things until you could feel the difference. Maybe you didn't sweat as much, or you didn't need to take long breaks, until you started noticing that you held up against Natasha longer than usual.

It still wasn't enough, based on the way she was perched atop you, her legs straddling your hips. Her arms were right by your head, muscular and firm, breath just the slightest bit heavy. You thought she looked beautiful. There was the slightest sheen of sweat coating her forehead, and a few loose curls that fell from her braid, framing her face perfectly. Her green eyes sparkled with amusement.

Natasha leaned down, her lips, perfect and soft, were ever closer to yours. Your heart skipped a bit as your lashes fluttered. That was another thing - you had a crush on Natasha. As childish as it sounded, you really did. The only thing stopping you was the fact that she had a wife. You had never met Wanda, but people spoke her name with reverence, always watching the way they spoke.

On the other hand, Natasha almost never spoke of her, just fleeting mentions to other people. It was the one thing that held you back from trying to go after Natasha. Well, that and the fact that Natasha was downright terrifying, and if you got rejected you weren't sure if you could stand it.

Before you had the chance to think about it more, to even consider pressing your lips onto hers, Natasha did it for you. Her lips, soft and gentle, pressed down on yours. For the briefest moment you were shocked, merely melting into her touch. It felt heavenly, to finally kiss her, and as her tongue pushed into your mouth, you tasted strawberries.

Then, just as Natasha tried to deepen it further, you pushed her off, staring at her with confused eyes. She was married, she had a wife who, supposedly, she loved very much. But the mob boss was only smirking at you, lips curling upward and her tongue flicking out to lick them. The sight sent a shiver down your spine and heat up your cheeks.

"Your- Your married," you murmured, the words breathy and light.

Natasha reached her hand out, brushing a hair away from your face, "I know. She knows." It was the most tender you had ever seen her, different from the harsh and cruel side. You liked it. "She wants to meet you. Wanda wants to meet the girl that captured my attention."

You were too surprised to form a response, merely sputtering as Natasha smirked down at you. Her wife was okay with it? Faintly you realized that meant Natasha talked about you, but that wasn't the main focus. Mainly, Natasha was okay to have a relationship with you. Well, you couldn't call it a relationship yet, she could just be wanting to fuck you. It was probably the latter.

"What-" you cleared your throat, gently pushing her off you and sitting up, "Would we be in a relationship? Or am I just a fuck toy?" Your harsh vocabulary drew a surprised laugh out of Natasha, and she threw her head back just the slightest bit to expose her neck.

"No, you would not be a fuck toy. Otherwise, Wanda wouldn't want to meet you."

Her words soothed the anxiety that had begun to bubble in your stomach. The last thing you wanted to be was just a toy she played with, something she used to release her frustrations. You didn't want to just become an object.

Natasha grinned at your baffled look, her smirk dimming, "Before you meet her though, you have your first job."

^__________^

It's meant to be simple. Natasha is meeting with an opposing mafia, one that had been her rival for a long while. You weren't meant to just stand there and look intimidating. In all honestly, you were the worst person to pick, maybe aside from Kate. But Yelena, Bucky, Clint and even Steve were all much more intimidating. Whether it was because they had a glare that could cut through the harshest materials or because the mere sight of them sent shivers down someone's spine. You were genuinely afraid to approach Steve when you first met him until you found out he was just a big teddy bear.

Even though you were perhaps the worst option, Natasha had chosen to bring you and Bucky. It may have been odd to you, but Bucky just rolled with it, driving the three of you to the venue. You fiddled with the gun strapped to your thigh. The safety was off already, so that you could just pull it out of the holster and shoot. You were still scared you would shoot yourself in the foot.

The pants you wore were tight against your legs along with the shirt, both perfectly outlining your frame. It made you slightly uncomfortable, however Natasha insisted you wear this and she was your boss, so you went with it. The car, a sleek black stingray, pulled into an empty parking lot, its tires crunching on the gravel.

You exited the car, closing the door softly, and inhaling the night air. It had been a few months since you went outside. The opportunity presented itself, but you never found the time. Either that or you were too tired to muster the energy. But now you realized that you had missed it. A cool breeze ruffling your hair and tainting your cheeks and tips of your ears a soft pink. The firm feeling of the ground beneath you.

An owl hooted above you, alerting you to its presence, and you glanced up to see it soaring in the sky. Your gaze traveled to the moon, which was still low in the sky, but high enough to shine a blue light down on you. Its dim light allowed the stars to shine, even if they were dimmed by the cities lights. Bucky's footsteps crackled the gravel as he stepped out of the car.

"You like the stars doll?" his Brooklyn accent slipped through as he said the pet name. He called nearly everyone that so you didn't think much of it, it just seemed to be his way of showing affection.

"Focus up," Natasha snapped, a whole new personality on her now. She was harsh and cruel before, but now it was different. There wasn't the slightest bit of softness in her features, no little hints that she cared for either of you.

She was also wearing a new attire, although similar to when you first met her. Sleek black pants and a long sleeve shirt that had gloves attached to it. The pants perfectly fit her frame, and you would be lying if you said they didn't show off her ass a bit and you didn't enjoy it. Her skintight shirt allowed you and everyone to see the muscles in her arms as she moved, each one flexing. It was a little hot, you weren't going to lie.

A car skidded into the gravel lot, its tires screeching and steam billowing out of the back. It was a sleek sports car that shimmered under the moonlight and a duplicate followed it, albeit a bit slower. Out of it stepped a man.

He had sunglass perched atop his nose, tinted glass perfectly obscuring his eyes. A goatee coated his lower face, the scruffy hair not prominent, but noticeable all the same. He wore a fine suit that looked like it fit him and his air of confidence.

"Romanoff!" He cheered, his voice arrogant and flamboyant, "It's nice to see you again." Although you hadn't known this man for long, you could tell that it was fake. His arms spread out as if going for a hug, but he dropped them before even getting close. Behind him stood a dark-skinned man who wore a suit and had his hands folded in front of him. There was a young boy who had brown fluffy hair and wide brown. The man whistled lowly, "I see you've got a new...thing." He said the word with intent, wiggling his brows suggestively.

You tried not to visibly recoil, even if the words reminded you that Natasha could just be using you.

"Stark," Natasha's voice held a warning, one that promised pain, "We're here to discuss business."

Stark waved his hand with a scoff, pulling his glasses down to make eye contact, "I don't have your money Romanoff. I don't owe you any."

"You blew up one of my buildings," she snarled. Her tone sent a shiver down your spine. In all honestly you had no idea how Stark didn't crumble right then and there, Natasha was scary when she wanted to be.

"On accident, and I didn't even do it - it was an acquaintance."

Natasha scoffed, "Oh please. You hired Danvers to do it. Listen, Stark - I'm giving you until the end of the month, 30 days, to get me the money for blowing up the building."

The man had a deep scowl on his face as his eyes bore into Natasha. They briefly flickered over to you, his brown eyes tracing your face and your features. You felt a bit self-conscious, the suit you were wearing was particularly tight and framed every bit of you. Then, he smirked, his gaze going back to Natasha.

Tipping his head slightly in goodbye, Stark spun around, heading towards his car while the other two went to their own. The three of you stood there until they left, and only then did you see Natasha soften.

"I hate him," she grumbled, marching towards the car.

Bucky started the engine as you climbed in, "I know," he soothed, "It'll be over soon."

Natasha sighed, the sound heavy and laced with annoyance. She turned to face you sitting in the back, the slightest smirk on her face, "Ready to meet Wanda?"

[yelenasdiary]

A bit of angstytober request of love triangle Mob Boss Natasha and mob boss Yelena so basically Natasha and reader and like flings and they both have to choose partner to help them with their mob boss activities, so Natasha chooses someone with more masculinity because her fellow mob bosses and parents were telling her too so she chose logic over her heart, but yelena decides to chose reader

Tangled Hearts

Pairing: Mob Boss! Natasha Romanoff, Mob Boss! Yelena Belova x Assistant! GN! Reader

Summary: Having feelings for two people is never easy.

Angst, Fluff & Suggestive Themes. 18+ Only, Men & Minors, DNI!

Warnings: Mentions of illegal activities, mentions of alcohol | 2.3K

Translations: Detka (baby), 

AC: I love this idea so much! Jess also sent me a mob boss idea (which you can see here) so I picked some ideas from that and included it into this request. I hope that’s okay! I hope you enjoy! x

October Special 2024 Masterlist

“What are you thinking about?” You asked Natasha in a soft tone watching as she buttoned up her white shirt, the bed sheets covering your naked body. Natasha looked over her shoulder, her jaw ever so slightly clenched at the thought of telling you what you was playing on her mind. You wondered if you had any reason to be asking her this, after all, it was mostly just sex between the two of you, both of you using it for your own selfish reasons but you’d be lying if you didn’t start to feel something bigger than the heated moments shared in her bedroom. 

“It’s just business stuff” she replied, tugging her crystal white shirt into her black dress pants. 

“Anything I can help with?” You asked kindly. A heavy sigh filled the room as Natasha turned to you, sliding her phone into her pocket. She shook her head, “thank you but no thank you” she smiled ever so softly, “I have to go deal with somethings, um, thank you for last night” she added, reaching for her suit jacket before leaving the room. You let your head hit the softness of her pillow once more, allowing yourself a little time to gather your thoughts before you got your things and went home. 

Entering the ‘office’ which was nothing more than a mansion or a safe house of those who worked for the crime syndicates boss sisters, Natasha and Yelena. You sat down at your desk, turning your computer on when Yelena knocked softly at your door.

“Late night?” She asked with a slight hint of disappointment in her voice. You spun around on your chair to face her, “nothing out of the usual” you smiled softly. You’ve known the sisters for most of your life, they took you under their wing when you had nothing left. Both sisters have always admired your genius skills in cyber hacking and your high attention to detail. 

Yelena’s eyes dropped to the piece of paper in her hand, “got a job for me?” You asked, shifting the conversation. The blonde handed you the document with information, “Nat asked if you could wire some cash to detective Agnes O’Conner. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you this morning” Yelena explained causing your eyes to drop to your feet for a brief moment before you looked up at her once more. 

“Please don’t start, not today” 

Yelena closed the door behind her, “She hasn’t told you, has she?”  Tilting her head slightly to the right as she locked eyes with you.

“Told me what?” You asked with a light frown. 

“She’s moving. There are some issues in Mexico and cargo needs to moved, that’s why she’s paying Agnes to turn a blind eye” Yelena explained.

“Why does she need to move?” You questioned. 

“Because she’s taking over the cartel over there, it’ll be good for us, the business. It’ll open up a new world of money for us, new clients, we’re stepping up again” Yelena says with proudness in her voice. “You sound excited” you replied with a light smile. 

“Well, yeah” she wanders over to the sofa in your office and takes a seat, “You’re up for raise” she adds. 

“A-are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

Yelena nods, “things are going to change around here. With Nat moving, she needs some extra help so between her and I, we have to pick who we need most for our organizations. I thought she would’ve told you all this” 

The information made you understand why Nat was distant with you this morning. Your mind filled the thought of all the new changes that would be happening, and you could see that Yelena, although she was excited, she was nervous. 

“She’s going to ask me to go, isn’t she?” You asked the blonde. 

Yelena ran her fingers through her short blonde locks, “well since you both are such an item, I just assumed it would be the case” she replied, barely able to look at you. 

“Lena” you said softly, placing the document on your desk and wandering over to the sofa to take a seat next to her. “Lena, you can talk to me” you added, placing a hand gently on her knee. Her jaw clenched for a moment, deep down, her heart skipping a beat as she looked you in the eyes. 

“You should probably get that money wired” she said, brushing you off and standing up. 

“Lena”

Yelena turned to you, “oh, uhm, don’t leave for lunch today. We’re ordering in” she gave you a soft smile before leaving the room. 

----

“When’s your flight Natasha?” Alexei asked. 

“Later tonight” she replied, taking a puff from her cigar. 

“And you have everything sorted? You have an assistant, yes?” He asked. Natasha lent forward, “you stress to much old man. Everything is fine” she assures him. 

“So no, you don’t have an assistant” Melina pitches in, downing a shot of vodka. Nat sighed, “I don’t need an assistant” 

“Did you even look at the resumes I gave you? There is some good, strong men and women on that list” said Alexei. 

“Yes, I looked at them, not interested. Like I said, I don’t need an assistant” 

“It’s not negotiable Natasha. You’re going into foreign territory, this isn’t about getting you an assistant, you also need a bodyguard” Melina says, raising a brow at her daughter while the red head chuckled lightly at her mother’s words, “I can handle myself” she comments. 

Melina rolled her eyes before she locked eyes with Natasha once again, “you pick somebody Natasha, or I will” she says sternly. Natasha puts out her cigar, defeated, knowing she won’t win the argument no matter how good her skills are.

“What about Yelena?” The red head questions, she knows Yelena can look after herself and can stand her ground but she’s still her little sister and Natasha can’t help but feel protective of her. 

“Yelena is fine, she’s more organized than you” Melina replies, “you’re avoiding what needs to be done Natalia. Your heart, it’s clouding your judgment. You need to think logically, there isn’t anything wrong with them but are you sure that they can handle themselves and protect you if need be?” She adds, catching Natasha’s attention once more. 

“Ah, you and Yelena are still fighting over this hacker huh?” Alexei chimes in, exhaling smoke from this cigar. Natasha’s eyes shift to her father, “Fighting?” She questions, “Yelena isn’t interested in Y/n” she adds. Alexei chuckles before taking another puff at his cigar. 

“What is this idiot talking about?” Natasha asks, looking at her mother who sighs at Alexei’s words. 

“Hey!” Alexei frowns.

“Maybe I was wrong, maybe your heart isn’t in the way” Melina starts, “you’ve never noticed the way Yelena looks at them?” She asks making Natasha’s eyes drop to her feet. “Think logically, got it.” She says before standing up, wanting to end the discussion. 

----

Lunch time came with catered mini subs from subway, everybody at the office enjoying light chatter and laughter while taking a break from their illegal lifestyle for just a moment, everybody but you. After the news Yelena gave you this morning, you found yourself burying yourself into work. Finding anything to do, breaking into the FBI’s cyber security to access files you found yourself reading from time to time, your own personal record. 

“You’re torturing yourself reading that, you know that, right?” Yelena’s voice broke the silence in your office. Quickly, you closed the window and spun on your chair to face her, “doesn’t hurt to refresh your mind” you replied while Yelena let herself in with a mini sub on a plate for you. “You didn’t come to lunch” she said, placing the plate on the end of your desk.

“I got busy, sorry” 

“Thinking about Nat?” Yelena questioned. 

“Lena, just say it. You keep bringing it up so just say” you said, slightly raising your voice at the blonde. 

“Okay. Fine” Yelena sighs, “why don’t you just admit it?” 

“Admit what?” You question just as a soft knock on the door interrupts your conversation. You both look up and see Natasha leaning against the door frame, she gives Yelena a look that makes her excuse herself, leaving you along with Natasha. 

“She told you about Mexico?” Natasha asks, breaking the silence as she closes the door behind her. 

“Yeah, was that what this morning was about?” You watch as she steps closer to you, cupping your left cheek as she looks into your eyes, “I’ve been selfish” she says as her thumb gently strokes your cheek. “and I’ve blind to see what has been in front of me for so long. I’m not taking you with me detka” she adds, keeping strong eye contact with you. 

Gently, you remove her hand from your face and swallow the lump in your throat, “well we always said it was just casual” you remind her, but she sees past your wall. “When do you leave?” You ask her, trying to avoid an awkward situation. 

“Just because we have casual sex doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings for you, you need to know that” 

“Just not strong enough to ask me to go with you, right?” 

“Trust me, if I could ask you to come with me, I would but I can’t. Not when I know that your heart never belonged to me” 

You frown at her words, “what are you talking about? You’ve never asked me about my feelings and now suddenly my feelings matter?” 

“Your feelings have always matted detka, I was just too selfish to see the truth. I’m not the one who deserves you, I never did” she says.

“That’s not for you to decide Nat, but thanks for making up my mind for me” you snapped. 

“It wasn’t me who bailed you out all those years ago. It was Yelena. It’s Yelena that makes your eyes sparkle, that makes your laugh contagious, it’s Yelena that makes you rest your limits and makes you push yourself harder. It was never me and that’s okay. I wanted to be that person so much that I blocked out the way you look at her and the way she looks at you” Natasha explains calmly, as you stand from your chair in disbelief. 

“I’ve stood in the way of the happiness of the two people I care about the most for too long and even if I did choose you, Yelena already has.” She adds. 

You’ve known about Yelena’s feelings for a while now and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel something different with her than you do with Natasha. What you share with Natasha is something you’ve struggled with; you love the time you have with her, but you noticed just how different she is with you compared to Yelena. Maybe all you and Natasha were was a casual hook-up to keep one another distracted of the world you both lived in, maybe you tried too hard to convince yourself to have deeper feelings for the boss, these were thoughts that rang through your mind while Natasha made herself comfortable on the leather sofa. 

“You have every right to be mad with me” Natasha adds, drawing your attention back to her. 

“Mad with you? I could never be mad with you” you smile softly to assure her, “I’ll never understand truly what you and I share but I know I’ll miss it, and I’ll miss you” you add.

“I’m not going forever” Nat returns the soft smile, “I’m sure Alexei will fuck something up” she adds causing you both to chuckle. 

“I’m sure Yelena will keep him in his place” you replied. Natasha nodded in agreement before your office went silent once more, “are we okay?” She asks. You took a deep breath in before giving her an answer, “yeah, we’re okay”

“I’m glad, because I still need you regardless of if I am here or not. I need somebody to keep an eye on Yelena” Natasha jokes once more just to hear you laugh. 

----

With Natasha settling into things in Mexico, the workload didn’t seem so high. Although Yelena had meetings lined up all of next week, you kept working on a side hustle in hopes it would strike interest for the blonde. Using your skills, you heard word about a rival mob planning to move some military trade weapons, you made sure to have all the facts before presenting the idea to Yelena. The weapons could easily be sold to connections that Yelena had in Russia, a quick easy few million dollars to add to the accounts. 

Yelena was puffing on a cigar on the balcony when you approached her, almost startling her when you leaned against the railing overlooking the pool beside her. “I’ve got a little gift for you” you said, smirking at her. 

“Oh yeah?” Yelena replied, looking over at you. 

“You can have it on one condition” you tease, watching her put her cigar out. She never liked to smoke around others. 

“I’m listening” she said, turning slightly to face you better as you looked into her eyes.

“That you tell me what you wanted to tell me before Nat left last week” 

Yelena’s eyes dropped slightly as a smile tugged at her lips, “you really want to go there?” She asked. 

“Go where? I have no idea what you’re talking about” you teased her once more as she looked up at you, running her tongue over her bottom lip, “I’d rather skip that and get straight to the point”

“And what would that point be?” You questioned, feeling Yelena rest a hand on your hip, gently pulling you closer to her, “that Natasha never loved you the way I do, and I’ve been waiting a very long time to call you mine” she confessed. 

“Then do it” you said softly, “call me yours” 

With a soft smile, Yelena lent forward, capturing your lips with hers and only deepening the kiss when you kissed her back. The side hustle plan forgotten about, the world of crime non-existent just for the moment until Yelena pulled back ever so slightly, “I’m yours” she said in a soft whisper as you smiled, “and I’m yours” you replied.

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[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

I think I have a fic idea for the song Little Girl Gone by CHINCHILLA let's see how this goes.

[wifeofnatasharomanoff]

Darkest Nights - Masterlist

WARNINGS: violent themes, guns/knives, 18+ chapters, toxic/dark Natasha, angst, infidelity, obsession, Nat and reader have a kid

SUMMARY: her, you never thought you'd fall for anyone like her, nor would she be so intoxicating. but her line of work put you in danger. she would protect you.. right?

PAIRING: mob boss!Natasha x Reader

DRABBLES/REQUESTS ♡:

How We Met (repost/18+ themes)

Happiness (fluff, angst)

READ FOR CONTEXT ♤:

Playing Dangerous (smut)

Sinful Affairs (angst, smut)

[a-spes]

| PRETTY FACES, DARK SOULS — Part three (1.965 words).

| Summary — you robbed the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not.

| Tags & warnings — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Dark CEO!Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Dark!Yelena Belova, mentions of sex, N is abusive toward R, starvation, sequestration/kidnapping, R being referred as a mutt, R has been drugged, slight comfort if you squint (or maybe it's just me), humiliation, injuries.

| N/A — It took me a while to write it, and it's shorter than the previous parts, but I hope you'all still going to enjoy it!

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

There are some things that cannot be forgotten.

The things you did were one of those. Not only you stole her wallet, but you also had the audacity to lie to her face. You were looking at her, straight in the eyes, when you told her how much you liked it. She had you right there, laying beneath her, begging and screaming her name for hours, and yet it was just a lie. Sometimes she wonders if your pleas when she had her knuckles buried deep inside you were also an act. Maybe. She can't know for sure.

But you've done worse. You've been haunting her mind since you two met at the party. You were like a poison in her life, ruining everything she has tried to build. Since that night, it has been impossible for the redhead to think about anything else. The woman that was known for her calm and sturdiness is now unable to stay focused during the meetings. On the rare occasions she decides to show up, she barely listens, passing time by tapping on the wood table.

Why is she wasting her time, sitting at that table and listening to a bunch of men talking nonsense, when she could be looking for you?

She easily could've asked her men to do the research for her, but it was very unlike the woman to ask for something then wait for the others to fetch it. Natasha Romanoff isn't a queen, nor an heiress. She is the CEO of one of the world's most successul company, one that was built on sweat and hard work. Hers. Not someone else's.

When it comes to that story, her actions are dictated by her emotions, by a desire for revenge that intoxicates her. She knows it, and somehow appreciates the feeling. At first, that was new and exciting, she was almost glad of what happened, but she eventually got bored of that game you were playing. As the years went by, the excitation was replaced by frustration.

She really needed you to fix the mess you've created in her life, whether you're willing to do it or not.

"The mutt is drooling on your couch," an unknown voice yelled near you, and it was followed by quick steps, as if someone came in running. A second later, you could feel a hand that harsly grabs your face, nails digging in your skin, leaving crescent-shaped marks all over your chin.

That's when you opened your eyes for the first time, gasping at the sudden contact. You don't remember much of what happened last night, but you firmly believe that it's Kate's fault because one of the last things you see is the black-haired girl sliding glasses of alcohol in your direction.

You weren't planning on drinking, at least not that much. You don't even like for real the taste of alcohol, and you definitely hate even more the following morning. A pitiful sound escapes your lips as you try to open your eyes, realizing that you are in a much worse condition that you thought. As always, you promise yourself that it's the last time, but it's never for real. It's so tempting to say yes when Kate offers to go out, to accept the drinks she hands you and let down your barriers for one night.

"Do not make your case worse," a second voice said, "you already have more debts than you'll ever be able to repay," it said before another hand grips your hair tightly, tilting your head backwards.

You were more tired than usual. It felt like a weight was pressing down on your whole body, as if it had become too heavy for you to bear. A simple blink of the eyes required inhuman efforts, and in that condition, it was unthinkable to raise your head to get a better look at the person who had just said those words. All you could see were patches of colour, and what you assumed to be red hair mixed with blinding light. But your surroundings were blurred, and you couldn't see much more. So when she threw you on the floor, you didn't even try to get up.

"Poor thing...," the blonde said, chuckling softly. "I mean, look at her! She has no idea what's going on," and it was true. When she looked into your eyes, all she could see was fear, and pain.

The drug they put in your drink was strong. Maybe a little too strong, if your condition is anything to go by. She didn't know if you could hear her, but she was sure you wouldn't be able to move for at least a few more hours. Even swallowing was too much to ask for the moment, and the stain that had formed on the seat of her private jet was the proof.

At one point, she felt sorry for you, sprawled out on the carpet, or maybe it was her younger sister's incessant complaints about having to step over your body every time she needed to pass that eventually irritated the redhair. In any case, at one point, she decided to take you in her arms with all the gentleness she could, careful to not let you fall. You were so calm, so malleable, unable to react as she manipulated your body as she wished.

Eventually, she sat with you on her lap. Your chest was against hers, your face forcefully burried in her neck as she played with your hair with a firm hand. Despite your instinct to flee, you quickly relax in her arms. Your anxious breathing eventually slowed down until it matches with hers, both of your chests raising at the same time. The hand that stroked your hair also worked it magic until you could barely keep your eyelids open.

"Already going soft with her?" her sister asked when she came back with two glasses of alcohol, both for herself, and witnessed her sister craddling the mutt in her arms, something she disapproves of strongly.

"Weren't you the one who complained about me leaving my things around?" she asked back, rolling her eyes as the youngest spoke.

"I was just saying," she replied, shrugging her shoulders before dopping heavily onto one of the seats, earning a dark look from her elder sister. She then lets her eyes rest on your form, already knowing that what will happen next is going to be interesting. You've been hard to catch, and she expects you to be at least as difficult to tame. She knows her sister always enjoys a challenge, and so does she.

It has been the last time you saw light, and not the artificial one from the light bulbs, but the real one, from the sun's rays whose warmth you missed. You could only dream of the light caressing your skin, enveloping you in its comforting warmth until you open your eyes. Then, you are greeted only by the coldness of the cell you've been threw in almost as soon as the plane landed. They didn't let you a chance to run away, not even to think about it, before they locked you up in here.

You haven't seen the woman since. Nor anyone else. Your only contact with the outside are the muffled voices coming from the pipes. If they're even real, and not just a figment of your imagination. You are not sure anymore what's real or not. You spend your time between drowsiness and sleep, and can't distinguish what belongs to which world anymore. Maybe you've started to go crazy. A long time ago, you've read an article about the importance for humans to have contact with others.

But you were alone. With no food, no water, and no idea of what would happen next. Is she going to let you starve in this place? Maybe. It would be cruel, a perfect punishment for a thief, but certainly not a glorious death. You hoped for a better ending, something masterful. You hoped you would die as a hero, not as some pitful criminal. Here, no one would find your body, and you were sure that no one would organise a funeral for you. They wouldn't even know your dead. That's the downside of having no ties — No one really cares about what may happen to you, they probably think you've run away. Again.

Sometimes, you think of Kate, your flatmate and coworker, and it's enough to breath a little bit of hope in your heart. If there is someone that cares about you in that world, it's her. She would definitely call the police and look for you until she find your body. She is not a traitor.

At least, if she is still alive.

You can't be sure. No matter how hard you concentrate, you can't remember the last time you've seen her, the end of the evening being just black. You tried, but it hurt your mind so you eventually stopped so you convinced yourself with the false memory that she came home earlier, and that she is fine, waiting for you to come back.

The thought that everything is going to be alright soothed you as you kept alterning between drowsy and asleep for a few hours, waking up suddenly at the slightest noise. It is hope that keeps you awake, and the fear of missing someone coming down, something that only happened after an eternal wait, when you stopped believing in it.

You are unable to move, laying on the floor with your knees against your chest. When you opened your eyes, you were expecting another disappointment but you catched the flickering light of a torch. For a moment, you thought it was the end of you. But no, you've heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, the one of a key and then a creaking door. The silhouette rising up in front of you was impressive, but it wasn't death.

"'Morning Sweetie," the voice whispered. It was followed by the metallic clutter of something being placed on the ground.

Then you saw it. A bowl lit by the torch's light. Inside, there is something that looks like porridge. It isn't very appetising, but you didn't care. You are so hungry that you would've swallowed anything she was willing to give you. You crawled to her feet, dragging your body over to the bowl, only for you hand to grasp the void when you reached for the plate.

A sharp pain in your wrist followed. It's her boot pressing down on your wrist as she puts all her weight into it, preventing you from moving. It hurts so bad that you thought, for a second, that she might have broken your bone.

"Aww...," she cooed, her voice dripping with false pity, "you didn't thought it would be that easy, did you?" When the only answer she gets from you is a whimper, she chuckles. "Such a stupid thing...," she murmures, but despite the appearances, her voice is everything but sweet. It's harsh, and mocking. "If you want to eat, you need to earn that privilege. Nothing will be free for you, until you've payed your debt," her warm breath hitting your cheeks as she knelt beside you to utter those words.

And you knew it wasn't a threat as she left you again, knocking the bowl over as she does so. It is a promise.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

| Taglist (only if you have your age in bio!) — @loneliestafterparty, @natsxwife, @olicity-boo, @skittlebum, @skqrlett, @thalia-is-not-ok, @tobiaslut.

[gingiesworld]

Gingie's Kinktoberfest

Hey awesome people, this is my first ever Kinktober event and I hope you all will enjoy what I have in store with a range of characters from Lizzie with appearances of Nat and Maria too. The list and dates they will be released are as below.

1st: MILF Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: It has been a while since Wanda has had an orgasm so she asks her best friend for a helping had.

3rd: Natasha Romanoff x Porn Star Avenger (Amab! R) Summary: Reader is a porn star and Natasha is a secret fan, especially when she learns that the masked crusader on the hub is indeed her fellow Avenger

5th: Therese Raquin x Fem Reader Summary: Therese is unhappily married to Camille and she has always had feelings for reader who was also part owner of the pub. So one night when Therese decides to let loose and have some fun, she finally takes what she wants.

7th: Gerri Fields x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Gerri Fields still goes to college a virgin where she meets an old school friend she used to admire before graduation. The two soon start to date and Gerri asks them to be her first.

9th: Maria Hill x Lower Level Agent Reader(Amab! R) Summary: Maria is on a mission with reader who makes one tiny mistake and she is fast enough to berate them on the way back to headquarters. But Reader stands up for themselves which soon turns into something more ;)

11th: Step sister Wanda x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda visits her step sibling in the city and they offer to take her to a club. The two soon get drunk and Wanda finds herself dancing seductively which doesn't help with the tension that was between them before ;)

13th: Jane Banner x Mob Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Jane Banner was always the one who wore the trousers but that was until she met Y/N. The mob boss who she was trying to take down. Soon finding herself tied to their bed as they used her for their pleasure.

15th: Natasha Romanoff x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Readers favourite place to be is between the Infamous Black Widow's legs. Pleasing her until she squirts.

17th: Step mom Wanda x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda overheard Y/N screaming her name only to walk in on them jerking themselves off to the sinful thoughts of their step mom.

21st: Innocent Wanda x Step Parent GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda comes home after being dumped by her boyfriend since high school in search of comfort. Soon receiving more than she never knew she needed from Reader

23rd: Maria Hill x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: At one of Tony's parties, exes bump into each other and soon fall into old habits.

25th: Assistant Wanda x CEO Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Reader requests a little bit more off of their assistant and she is more than ready to comply as they bend her over the desk.

27th: Bratty Natasha Romanoff x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Natasha decides to be blunt and abrupt with reader who doesn't care for it, especially when she is cocky and disrepectful in front of their friends.

29th: Wanda Maximoff x Stripper Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Wanda hires Reader claiming it is for a Bachelorette party which turns out to be sex party for all of her friends.

31st: WandaNat x GN! Reader (Amab! R) Summary: Both Wanda and Nat are persuing reader thinking they are clueless but they are loving the attention a little too much.

18+ MINORS DNI

HAPPY KINKTOBER BUDDIES!!!

[natsarrownecklacx]

Cruelty Is An Art Form

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word count- 1,920

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

Warnings- Minors this fic isn’t for you, Allusion to murder, Dark Mob Natasha, Thigh riding, marking, allusion to non con.

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

There is no evil known to mankind worse than Natasha Romanoff. Of this, you are almost certain. 

Sure there are other terrible things that plague the world like famine, natural disasters and horrific diseases, but the difference between Natasha and all of those things is that, when it comes to how they affect people, it isn’t their fault. All of those things are more or less out of our control, and the way they impact people, out of their control. 

Natasha however, is practiced with her cruelty. Each and every ounce of pain and suffering she inflicts is calculated and purposefully. She takes a pride in it that could only be measured to that of a parent towards their child or an artist towards their art.

Usually when a person contains this type of passion for cruelty it would be contained to the unfortunate few people who find themselves in the presence of the evil being who cultivates it. For example serial killers or people with an affinity for torture and their victims.

Sadly this isn’t the case with Natasha Romanoff, who has enough power and influence that her cruelty spans over hundreds if not thousands of people, even if they do not realize it. As the leader of one of the most powerful and dangerous gangs in New York City, Natasha’s control spans just over triple the city's population. 

She is known throughout the underworld of gang leaders as the “black widow”, the name being given to her in recognition of the countless bodies she has left up and down the coast of many cities across the globe. 

No one would dare mess with her, in any way, unless they had a death wish. Even then, unless that person wanted to die in the most slow and torturous ways even the darkest minds could not conceive, they would stay far, far away from her. 

Which is something you’ve, thankfully, managed to do for all twenty years of your life, despite your fathers standing as a rival gang leader in New York. One that, for the past few months, Natasha has been taking territory from.

To Natasha anyone other than herself and the few people of her inner circle are merely ants ready to be squashed under her boot at a moments notice, even purely for her own twisted entertainment. So she did not know, nor did she care, who’s territory she was taking over, nor did she fear any backlash from the unknown ant.

Your father let her behavior slide, for the sake of peace and to avoid the possibility of innocent civilians getting harmed in the crossfire if he were to start a war between his own gang and the widows. 

He has warned you to stay far away from her, away from any territory she deemed her own, in fear that she may recognise you and harm you for the sake of sending a message to not only him but the other leaders in the city. 

So you did as he asked and stayed away, not wanting to cause any problems for your father or anyone else. But how were you to know that while you were on a night out with your friends that the redhead would choose the exact bar you occupied and claim it as her own, killing the previous owner where he sat in his office before strolling her way up to the bar to order herself a glass of vodka.

Natasha sits at the bar, glass in hand as she lazily surveys the room, looking for someone to sate her need for the night, getting her use out of the unwitting victim before killing them.

As she moves her gaze around the room her eyes land on you, a pretty girl on the dance floor moving her hips along to the music in a way that catches Natasha’s attention and stops her mid way raising her glass to her mouth. 

She watches you for a few moments, her darkening eyes drinking in every sway and move of your body as you lose yourself to the music and atmosphere around you, dangerously unaware of the predator approaching. 

Natasha is unaware of who you are and in all honesty, she doesn’t care, her plan for you remains the same. Act like the sweet gentle woman she never will be, convince you to accompany her back to her mansion, use you like a toy until the sun comes up and then discard you like the broken used thing you will be once she's finished with you. 

Natasha approaches you, reaching a hand out to your waist, moving her body against yours to the beat of the music. She treads lightly, not wanting to scare you off before she can get you at least into her car. The idea of making a public scene tonight just seems like an annoying headache for the redhead.

Feeling a feminine body slid in behind you mould to your own does not bother you, even as her hands slid sensually around your waist, pulling you flush against her. You relish in the attention from the unknown woman. 

Natasha drags her lips against the pulse point of your neck causing you to tilt your head back, needing to give her more room. She suctions her lips to your neck, intent on leaving a mark and branding you as hers. Her toy for the night, her slut made to proudly wear her marks. 

You can’t help the moan that quietly spills from your lips at the action, leaning your head back against her shoulder and moving your left hand up to grip the hair on the back of her neck, holding her in place while she leaves her marks on your skin. 

Natasha slides her arms fully around your waist, tightening her hold on you and locking you in place as she slots her thigh between your legs. Your breath catches in your throat at the action and a whimper follows soon after when the mystery woman whispers “Move your hips, baby” in your ear hotly. 

You do as she says, moving your hips slowly up and down her suit clad thigh. Her warm mouth continues its attack on the delicate skin of your neck, nipping and biting every so often to ensure her marks are clear. 

The whole interaction makes you want to melt against her, melt into her, succumb to the pleasure the woman is bringing you. That is, until she tenses the muscles in her leg, the hard muscle hitting your clit just right in a way that has you moaning out “fuck” and tightening your hold on the redheads hair to the point that you cause her pain. 

Natasha bites down hard on your neck in retaliation, the force of her teeth strong enough to nearly draw blood. 

You gasp and quickly jerk your body away from her. Natasha loosens her hold, allowing you to turn and face her but still keeps you in her grasp. You spin around quickly, determined to tell her off for such a violent act. 

Your breath is stolen from your lungs the second your eyes land on the woman your father spent countless day’s warning you away from. 

Your eyes fill with fear, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the redhead, and you try to take a step back. 

Natasha only tightens her grip on your waist, a smirk falling against her lips while confusion flickers behind her eyes. She can see from the look on your face that you know who she is, what she is capable of, yet she doesn’t know how. Word of the infamous black widow isn’t exactly common knowledge with the civilians in the city. 

“You know me.” Natasha muses, tilting her head to the side slightly, her eyes lighting up when she feels you try to step away from her again. “And you're afraid.” She says, the smirk on her face nearly doubling in size, as she takes a step toward you. 

Your eyes move frantically around the room, desperately looking for the men your father sent with you everywhere. Your body guards, as you call them, or your “protection detail” as they like to call themselves. 

Natasha’s hold on your waist tightens again, pulling you flush with her front and ignoring your attempts to squirm away. Your attention turns back to her and you have to gulp down your fear at the sight of the look in her eyes. It truly feels to you as though she is a starved, deranged predator and you are her prey. 

Natasha takes a moment to look you over, appraising you, while you squirm under her heavy stare, your eyes move away from her, unable to continue looking at her with the intensity of the moment.

“You're a pretty little thing aren’t you.” Natasha muses, gripping your jaw in her rough, calloused fingers and forcing you to look at her. Using her hold on your face she pulls you closer to her, until you are just a breath away. 

Your mind tells you to slap her, to spit in her face, kick her between the legs and run as fast as your feet can carry you. Your survival instincts tell you otherwise, screaming at you that if you want to survive then you have to keep her as calm as possible until your fathers men realize where you are.

So you stand as still as you can, your hands making fists at your sides in an attempt to keep them from shaking. Natasha’s eyes glance down to your clenched fists, a smile sliding its way onto her face before her eyes move back to your face.

She moves her mouth next to your ear, her warm breath hitting your skin while she whispers to you. “Let me tell you a secret little dove.” You feel her lips smile against your skin, trailing a short path up and down the skin of your cheek before she speaks again. “I like it when pretty girls like you are afraid. The look you all get in your eyes when your afraid for your life…” 

Natasha moves her hands to rest on the small of your back, moving your body in one swift jerk so that your thigh rests between her legs. She doesn’t waste a second before grinding down on the plush skin of your thigh, a grown falling from her lips at sensation. “... it gets me so, so wet, angel.” 

Natasha feels more than hears the gasp that leaves your mouth, feels the air hit her face as she pulls back to look at you again. That annoying smirk is back on her face, her eyes dark with lust and need. You jerk your leg from between hers, narrowing your eyes at the fake pout she wears at the action.

Natasha tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, her eyes never leaving your face as she whistles a tune you’d never heard before. Within the blink of an eye nearly fifty bodies hit the floor, each of them going down silently, without so much as a scream, as though someone had simply powered them off.

You look around in shock and horror, your mind running through how she could have done something like that and if you’d be next. 

“Don’t worry, angel.” Natasha coos, her voice a poor imitation of someone attempting to be soothing. “I won’t kill you.” She smiles, bringing her hands up to cup your face.

“You're of no use to me dead.”

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

A/n- Currently obsessed with dark mob boss Nat, let me know what you think so far, part two will be out this day next week

Part Two

[unholyhelbig]

request: oversight au, nat and reader run into reader’s ex or ronnie’s father who was abusive to them… how will mob nat react?

Title: Old Flames [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader has an unexpected run-in with an old flame and things go less than well, Natasha takes things into her own hands.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): Talks of past domestic abuse, talks of abortion, buried alive references, broken glass, blood (always), Heights, threatening statements, non-consensual kiss, horrible grammar (aways).

[a/n: Okay, I had way too much fun with this. While I loved writing the main story, it's also super great to branch out into some more dynamics with Mob Boss Nat, because I haven't made her mean enough yet.]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

The apartment building on the corner of twelfth and Hawke was a large midcentury brick building that structure that stretched to the sky. A metal fire escape latticed up the side and stretched clotheslines dripping with shirts and pants connected it to the adjacent building that had long since been used for storage.

Up until this point, you had avoided this building. Luckily, the tenants were quite timely with their rent and left little need for an enforcer to knock door to door. But it was right after the holidays and things were tough. That much, you understood. But it didn’t’ change the fact that three units were more than two months behind on their rent.

Them, you could appeal to with hot chocolate and some gentle urging. But according to Clint, there was a particularly nasty group of people living on the top floor that had gotten multiple noise complaints thrown their way.

The address hadn’t seemed familiar until you stood at the entrance and got a good look at the golden door that contrasted the rest of the structure. You’d written the code to the door on your palm, and you were having trouble differentiating the last number. It was a zero, or it was an eight.

“Gross, you’re sweaty.” Kate had pulled your hand a small distance from her scrutinizing stare, trying to read the smeared purple markings. “I knew we should have used the napkin.”

The woman dropped your hand and stepped up to the small box on the side of the entryway. She hit every button known to man until the fragile voice cracked through the speaker. “Yeah, uh-huh, pizza. I have pizza. Pepperoni-“Her ramblings were cut off by the loud buzz in.

You were treated to an innocent smile as she wrenched open the door and allowed you to follow her in. She was innovative, annoyingly so. Most of the time it worked in your favor but sometimes you found her testing your temper just to prove a point. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed your hesitation.

It was coming back to you now; the large entryway that was lined with lock and key mail slots and a bolstered wooden staircase that was scarcely used compared to the elevator. Natasha kept good care of the place, had repainted and made sure every single lightbulb was humming in synch.

Some would say that she improved the neighborhood, block by block. But there were still those who liked the way things used to be; living paycheck to paycheck with an angry and withering stare being sent your way with each collection call.

“I’ve got Miss Henderson.”

“Oh, come on.” You protested “She sounds so cool.”

Miss Henderson was an older woman who lived on the fifth floor. Most of the time, her rent was late because it had simply slipped her mind. One look at Kate and she’d write a check before offering some of the sweetest cookies you’d ever tasted, often sending her back with a plateful.

From what you had heard, she used to travel with a circus as an acrobatic performer. Her act was death-defying; a performance that relied on her partners quick bladework. The Swordsman and his Enchantress. There were illustrations of their travels hung up around her unit- ones that you would kill to see.

“Too bad, next time.” Kate mock pouted at you before clapping you on the back. “Don’t make too much of a mess up on the top floor, alright? I don’t want to scrub carpets today.”

She took the stairs two at a time and left you alone in the lobby. A cool blast of wind hit your back as a tenant walked in with their dalmatian, pink tongue lolling to the side as his owner checked the mail, barely sparing you a glance.

The type of New York residents that occupied this space had changed greatly. The last time you’d been here was a walk of shame that left your feet raw and bleeding. You’d rushed from the apartment with so much fever that you never returned for your shoes, or your dignity, for that matter.

This time, you had shoes on, ones that you had scrubbed free of blood until they looked presentable. They were leaden on the stairs up to the top floor. Once you reached the fifth, you could hear Kate’s distinctive laugh behind the oak door. At least she was close.

The top floor was nearly silent. You could hear a television, a hockey game that you’d been listening to sparingly on the way over here. It sounded like Toronto was pulling through. The sound of a beer cracking pulled you away from the muffled announcers words.

A radio was resting in an upper window. You and Kate had heard it from the street below, a French Pop station that you could barely make out the words of. French was never your strong suite, one language requirement in high school was enough for you.

Silently, you prayed, that it was a coincidence. That the radio didn’t’ belong to the very men that you were meant to speak to. They were flighty, you told yourself. They weren’t ones to stay and if they chose to stick around after all these years- well, you’d be impressed.

You knocked twice on the center door, the deep forest-green paint threatening to chip under the elements. The music stopped abruptly, and while you could hear that someone was whispering quietly in French, you couldn’t make out the words.

The man that opened the door was too familiar for your liking; his pale waxy skin, his deep brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black, the tattoos that were smattered in different designs against his throat, down his collarbone. Pockmarked on his arms. His hair was longer than you remembered, greasier and tied up in a bun.

He took you in for a singular moment, shock reflecting in his stare, but before he moved to shut the door. You stopped the action with one strong hand, putting your boot between the frame and the wood for extra measure. “Don’t be like that, Kazi.”

“All these years, and now you’re coming back for child support?”

He raked his eyes up and down your body in a way that made you feel violated. You held your stance. He seemed impressed by the bout of strength.

You tsked “if I wanted child support, I would have gone after it by now. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

He scratched under the sleeve of his tank-top, considering you the same way you considered him. Eventually, he seemed to figure he had nothing to lose pulling the door back and letting you enter the apartment. Waves of memory washed over you.

Kazi still had the same futon covered in the same ratty blanket. There was a kitchen table that was stacked with different folders that he would never, in a million years, let you view. A blue funnel was drying on the dishrack, and countless liquor bottles that had been emptied and cleaned were lined up, ready to be filled with the slightest bit of homebrewed alcohol.

He was still running the same scam after all of these years. You remembered liking the danger about him, the way his stubble felt against you when you straddled him. He’d been so alluring to a good girl like you. He would street race at night with another guy you’d met a handful of times, Robbie Reyes.

God, you had been so naive back then. He was drawn in by your innocence and you were entrapped by his experience. If only you knew where you’d end up in seven years; with Kazi’s biological daughter being raised by the most powerful woman in the city.

The moment you told him you were pregnant, he told you bluntly to get rid of it. That same night, he’d thrown an empty liquor bottle at you, just barely missing your head. You’d refused outright and accepted his anger in turn. Glass shards cut into the soles of your feet, and stained the snow all the way back to your dorm room.

The way he stared at you now infuriated you. “What do you want, then?”

“You’re two months late on rent.”

“I figured you’d keep tabs. Most women do. But my rent? That’s a new one.”

You picked up a small paperweight that you remember being fond of when you returned to this apartment after a first date where Kazi was a perfect gentleman. He’d bought dinner, and walked you back to his place. The glass object was tinted yellow, a small mosquito suspended in the center. He must have gotten it in a museum gift shop.

“Truthfully, I’m shocked you still live here.” You tested the weight of the object. “Most landlords aren’t very lenient about tardiness.”

“Yeah, well. She’s not very attentive. What can I say?”

Oh, but Natasha was quite attentive in more than one aspect, at that. You couldn’t’ help the smile that spread against your lips. Kazi was growing agitated with your presence, always quick to temper.

With all the strength you could muster, you threw the paperweight at the wall directly behind him. In its innate cheapness, it shattered into a million pieces, littering the carpet and slicing little bites into his skin. Kazi flinched and covered his face with his arms.

“Fuck! Y/n, what the hell!” He screamed.

“You have two weeks to backdate the rent, Kazi. Another week to get us this month’s amount. That sounds reasonable to me. Attentive, even.”

He reached into the back of his sweatpants and pulled out a silver Kimber, pumping the top chamber and aiming it at you with a shaky hand. He was too lax with his hold. A pinprick of crimson was dripping from a cut on his cheek.

“Come on, Kazi. It’s not the end of the world. I’m sure you can push some half-rate liquor. Sell a few of your gold fillings, and come up with the money my employer is required.”

“Employer? You work for that… monster?”

“Now, there’s a big word.” You closed the distance between the two of you, not giving him a moment to react before you wrenched the gun from his hand and threw it onto that ratty old blanket that adorned the futon he’d found on the side of the road. “So much horrible implication behind it too. You shouldn’t name call.”

Your boots crunched against the shattered glass. Kazi was barefoot, he flinched as flesh was dug into by uneven shards. You could smell the rancid coffee on his breath. He had a mole just on small of his nose.

“What happened to you?” he whispered, “Where’s that girl that stormed out of my apartment because she didn’t get her way?”

“A lot can change in seven years, Kaz.” You glanced around his apartment. “Well, most people change. Some people don’t go anywhere in life.”

Kazi pressed forward, his dry lips suddenly against yours. You froze in an instant, appalled by the acrid taste of cigarettes and stale morning coffee that he had no-doubt heated up in the microwave and drank black. The kiss was strong, rushed and painful in the way that his teeth knocked against yours.

It took less than a second for you to push him away. His head hit the cabinet behind it, rattling the glasses inside. Your hand was splayed out on his chest, nails digging into the stained tank-top he wore. He grinned wolfishly at you. Your teeth had dug so hard into his lip that it drew blood.

“I like this rough version of you, sweetheart. It’s hot.”

You reeled back and slapped him across the face with as much force as you could muster in your close proximity. The radio in the window seemed to flicker out of power at that moment, or maybe they had just run out of shitty pop music to play. Either way, the two of you were engulfed in silence.

“Shit, baby, hit me again!”

He had no idea how much you wanted to abide by that, though, you were quite positive that it would do nothing but spur on his arousal. This wasn’t going to work. If he kept pushing the way he was, you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from pulling your own weapon.

It suddenly became too much, standing in the middle of this time-capsule of an apartment. The memories were too strong. When the two of you were together, everything you did was for his benefit. And while this had been fun at first, testing him like this, it was too much.

You grabbed the collar of his sweat-soiled shirt, wrapping it around your fingers with enough force to tear the fabric away. “Two weeks, you fucking asshole. If you don’t have the money by then, I’m sure the city will have a fun time scrubbing your brain matter from the sidewalk.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He sneered.

You pressed your booted foot down on the top of his, listening as the glass dug deeper into the soft skin. This time, he did cry out in pain, the grinding of pieces close to bone making his eyes water. You placed your hand over his mouth, muffling his protest. “I will make your miserable existence a living hell, with or without the money, for what you did to me. Do you understand?”

“You’re so full of shit-“ you pressed your full weight down and you squirmed under your hold. “Yes! Yes, I get it. Fuck!”

You pulled yourself away from Kazi entirely, straightening his shirt. He was slumped against the counter, staring at you with pure rage in his eyes. He shifted his full weight to his other foot, grimacing at the edged stain on the wooden floor.

“You should really clean that up.” You gritted, mouth still tasting of stale smoke. “Glass can be dangerous, Kazimirez.”

By the time you got to the car the only thing on your mind was taking the hottestshower possible. You’d pawed through Kate’s glovebox rather frantically and counted it a small blessing that that there was a single unwrapped piece of gum at the very bottom.

She cringed as you popped it in your mouth and let the minty dusty taste coat your tongue. If you could, without raising suspicion, you would have dumped solvent on it, just to take the taste of Kazi out of your mouth.

“I don’t know how long that’s been in there.” Kate said, watching you warily as you picked up her water bottle and downed half of that too. It seemed to take the rest of the rancid flavor away.

“I don’t care”

“You should care, I bought this car used.” She frowned, tapping her fingers against the wheel. “Okay, I didn’t’ buy it. I bought the license plates though, that’s my civic duty.”

Her words were enough for you to roll your window down and toss the gum from it. Despite your profession, you weren’t a very good liar. Not when it came to Natasha. She’d ask you about your day like usual and you’d crumble under her seemingly innocent gaze.

Nothing Natasha did was innocent.

“What happened up there?” Kate asked.

The two of you were well out of the city by now, and still had about a half-hour until you got to the mansion. The family liked their privacy, and after a year of living there permanently, so did you.

When you didn’t answer right away, she kept going. “Because I got cookies. Nearly choked on one when Miss Henderson insisted on a private show. It’s seriously a wonder that a woman her age can still bend like that.”

“Katie,” You warned, “Gross.”

“Impressive actually. She kept her clothes on, which I am eternally grateful for. It looks like you had a more eventful visit with the French dudes upstairs.” She scoffed, “Who the fuck is French anymore?”

You rolled your eyes and slumped further into your seat. Kazi was French. You used to crumble when he gave you the choppiest lines that he could remember. According to him, the language is harder to speak than it is to read and write. You never questioned him, just like you didn’t question a lot of things.

“I have a… history with the man who rents 807.”

“A history, or a… history?”

“The first one. The second one. Shit- I don’t know, both! He’s Ronnie’s dad.”

Kate slammed on the brakes with enough force for a layer of rubber to be peeled from the tires of her mostly stolen care. The seatbelt cut into your neck and you figured yourself lucky that you’d taken a back road that was rarely used, god forbid she cause an accident.

“Dude!” You shouted as she put the car into park.

Kate twisted her entire body in the seat, placing her hand on the back of your seat. The motor was sputtering wildly, trying to compensate for her abrupt stop. Something had to be damaged, you thought, with her force on the pedal.

“Don’t dude me. Are you really that dense? If you haven’t noticed, Natasha is possessive over her things. And you? Well, you’re one of her favorite things. She’s not going to take this well in the slightest.”

“Kate, I think I know how to handle my girlfriend.”

“No, you know how to handle Natasha, the sweet, loving woman who would die for you and your child. Admirable, really. But you don’t know how to handle Miss Romanoff, mob boss extraordinaire.”

But you had seen Natasha in action before, countless times. She’d always kept this calm coolness about her that you were in awe of. Maybe Kate was right. You’d only seen a fraction of her jealous side at the first party you had ever attended in the house. That night she ripped the dress she’d picked out specifically for you to shreds.  

“I was dating a man named Eli when I was first taken in by the Romanoff’s, He turned out to be… not so favorable despite my constant reassurances. Natasha just knows. She had him dig a grave right off I-25 and then she made him lay in it.”

Your jaw threatened to drop at the simple fact. Kate removed her hand from the back of the seat and eased off the brake before she slowly got the two of you back up to an acceptable speed.

“All Eli did was cheat on me one night in a club. It wasn’t great, but I wasn’t sure if it warranted that kind of reaction. I never knew if she was proving a point to me, or to Eli. Either way, the smallest offense against any of us is met with archaic conviction.”

You didn’t respond to Kate, instead you stared at the trees that were whizzing by in a lush green wall of color. You’d decided that she was right- any type of reaction Natasha was going to have to Kazi would be severe.

“You’ll be fine.” Kate tapped her fingers nervously on the wheel, trying to backtrack her words. “As long as he didn’t’ touch you.”

It didn’t seem to matter how ferociously you scrubbed your skin with the honey scented soap you shared with Natasha, you swore you still smelled like smoke. It clung to your clothes, and lingered in the air after you’d shoved them to the bottom of the clothes basket.

The water was blazingly hot, filling the bathroom with a thick mist that made it slow to breathe. Natasha had chosen a dark blue tile that seemed to transport you into another world. Even without the scaring remembrance of Kazi’s lips against yours, his hands where you didn’t want them, you could stay here for hours.

Her hands were freezing cold and startling as they splayed against your naked stomach. You let out a small noise, going rigid before registering Natasha behind you. Her front was pressed against your back, and you’d know the curve of her body anywhere.

“Izvinite, moya lyubov', I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You turned in her arms and took in the state of her. She’d stripped down just as you had, small drops of water littering her skin like a constellation in the sky. She’d been in the sun today, a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose giving her away.

There was a bruise forming against the side of her jaw, one that you ran your waterlogged fingers over. Her eyes were an intoxicating shade of green, playing off the indigo tiles. You wanted to scold her for getting the bruise in the first place, but you were so entrapped by her simple presence, the way she fit so perfectly against you.

Natasha closed the distance between you both, pressing her lips against yours in a hurried kiss. You moaned into the embrace, allowing her tongue to find purchase in your mouth. God- you had missed her in the short few hours you’d been apart.

“Did you take up smoking?” she asked, barely pulling away, the words were spoken flushed to your lips. “It’s a terrible habit, darling.”

The glovebox gum hadn’t done its job, and apparently the swish of mouthwash and subsequent teeth brushing hadn’t done anything either. Of course, Natasha noticed. Of course. You weren’t going to try to hide it, though the thought did occur to you to save some heartache. But you were hoping you could placate her in a less slippery spot of the house when you were less naked and incredibly turned on by her presence.

A groan of a different cadence than she was used to escaped you as you dropped your head to her shoulder and clenched your eyes shut. “No, I didn’t take up smoking.”

“You taste like you have,” She gently led your eyes to hers. It was tender compared to the first time she had done so. “Licking ash trays again?”

“Gross, no.”

Natasha valued honesty above all. That much had been clear from the moment you met her. She’d nearly taken your head off in the gym when you repeated your one-night-stand with the enemy. The devil incarnate who happened to only be decent in bed. You remembered her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough for you to give her the answers she craved.

“What is it, pet? You can tell me.”

“Do you… I’ve been with men before.”

She let out a small chuckle that reverberated off the deep tile. “Yes, I know. I didn’t want to make assumptions, of course, but Ronnie does have a father.”

The way you stared at her in the silence that followed the statement made the smile on her face falter until it dropped entirely. She must have seen something behind your eyes, something that weighed the situation down more than she was intending on a typical Wednesday night.

“I’d completely blacked it out and didn’t realize it until I stepped foot into the lobby, but he still lives in the same apartment on the top floor. He thought I was after child support, or something but things sort of… escalated.”

You felt like a child, spilling your secrets about a vase you had broken. This time it was a cheap paperweight with a bug in the center that you frankly felt bad for. The words came out like emotional vomit, granted, Natasha had become used to your rapid admissions.

Her grip tightened against your chin, “Escalated how?”

“He kissed me, and I hit him hard enough to break his jaw.”

That same silence enveloped you again. The scalding water had lost its effect, numb and beating against your back. The two of you were still impossibly close and there wasn’t much escape for you in a shower this size. The glass door having fogged up and only giving you a stunted view of the large bathroom.

Natasha had an immeasurable rage behind her stare, her lidded expression ran as dark as old blood. It chilled you to your core. She reached beside you and shut off the constant flow of water. You’d been in here for about an hour now and the cold air that touched your skin felt like an assault of needles. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your center to preserve warmth.

“He laid his hands on you.”

“Yeah, Nat, he did.”

“He touched you.”

“I gave him hell for it, but it didn’t seem like it was enough.”

“Without permission.”

“He’ll never do it again.”

Whatever split-second decision she made; it was done without the usual calculation behind her eyes. She threw the door to the shower open and forcefully shoved a towel into your arms. While you revered in the warmth, you watched as she sauntered in her usual way out of the bathroom and into your shared bedroom. She was dripping wet.

“Natty!” You stumbled over the partition and nearly slid on the bathroom floor. It was much colder outside of your cocoon of warmth and subsequent mist. She thankfully hadn’t left the room and was pawing through her side of the dresser. You nearly lost your footing once you reached hardwood. “Fuck,”

She seemed to find what she was looking for, a plain black tank top that hugged her sides and looked entirely uncomfortable to wiggle into while damp. You watched with baited breath in a sloping towel as she adorned herself with underwear and pants, before turning towards you.

“Get dressed.” She ordered in a dangerous tone.

Shit. She was going to make you dig your own grave. You’d just showered all of the grime from Kazi’s apartment off and in a matter of minutes you would have dirt up to your knees. Natasha may have let Eli live after his blunder, but maybe she’d cover you completely and let you suffocate in your own efforts.

Numbly, you put on a pair of sweatpants and the closest shirt you had. There was no need to get dressed for your own funeral, you supposed. The worms would chew through whatever you wore regardless.

Clint was stretched out on the chase in the foyer, a pair of thick-lensed glasses balancing on the tip of his nose. Regardless, he still squinted at the book in his hands. You wondered why he wasn’t in the living room, but caught a glimpse of a particularly intense game of twister between Ronnie, Yelena, and Kate.

Darcy held onto the board, flicking the small plastic needle and calling out the colors. When Kate clocked the anger in Natasha’s eyes, she dropped to her back, taking down Yelena and Ronnie with her.

She gave you a pleading look, but you were already too far gone to return anything other than a flushed expression. You followed obediently after Natasha. She opened the front door and watched you with a calculated expression before slamming the front door hard enough to shake the glass fronting.

“Get in the car.”

“Do you want me to grab a shovel?”

“What?”

She contemplated this for a minute, growling softly. The near silence was terrifying. Her arms crossed over her chest was terrifying. Your mouth with incredibly dry, and you wished that you were back under the constant stream of water.

“No. I don’t think we’ll need that. Get in the car.”

Numbly, you did as you were told, placing your hands in your lap. This was quite possibly the last time you would be sitting in any car, much less, next to Natasha. She reached across you and pulled your seatbelt into place, tugging on the upper portion until she was sure you weren’t going anywhere.

The tires picked up traction on the gravel and the drive that usually took an hour seemed to whiz by. Natasha was quiet, the route to the city more than familiar by now. She run her hands against the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. You could hear her breathing deeply, trying to ease her nerves. You didn’t dare say a word.

For a moment, you figured that she’d abandoned the idea of burying you alive and switched her ideals to something much more sinister and public. She pulled her car up to the front of the very building you had left a few hours ago, the sun just barely setting behind the skyline. You blinked at her, and then up at the very property that she owned.

“Come on.”

There was no room for discussion. The air here was clouded with the scent of smoke and the coolness of the cement structures around you. It was moments like these where you much preferred the country.

Of course, Natasha knew the code, she had recited it to you earlier as you and Kate ate lunch by the docks, stretched out on the hood of her car. It was wrong then and your nerves were too elevated to pay attention now. She got in without the theatrics.

There seemed to be more activity as the day for working folks began to wind down. Two people halted their conversation by the mail-slots, nodding solemnly at the woman. On the third floor, you caught a glimpse of a woman struggling to push her keys into the lock, juggling her gym bag. The sixth floor held a small boy who darted from one apartment to another, edging across the hall.

She kept climbing until that same irritating French pop filled your ears. He must keep it on at all hours of the day, just to drown out his own miserable thoughts. “What apartment?”

You lifted your chin slightly, hands shoved in the pockets of your sweatpants to ward off the biting chill. “807.”

“Spasibo, lyubimyy.”

Natasha’s booted foot connected with the center of the very door you had politely knocked on earlier in the day. You flinched, covering your face with a guarded arm. The wood of the doorframe seemed to splinter, slivers reigning across both sides of the entrance.

“What the fuck!”

Kazi was hunched over the kitchen table, the funnel that had been drying by the sink was positioned perfectly in the mouth of a soaked and peeled liquor bottle. He had a stack of his own labels ready to place evenly on the finished product. Both of his feet were haphazardly wrapped with gauze, small sprouts of blood worming through the soft material.

He’d taken care to clean up the glass, but with the way Natasha headed straight towards him, that didn’t matter much. More of it fell to the floor and shattered upon impact. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and started walking him backwards across the living room. Kazi seemed too stunned to speak, his words caught in his throat.

“I-I-I didn’t mean it! Please!”

“When you speak to me, you’ll do it clearly.” She gritted, shoving him towards the window. Somewhere in the scuffle, the radio had fallen from its perch on the cracked windowsill, crashing to the alleyway below with one last fizzled cry. “You had no trouble saying whatever you wanted earlier, did you?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck! I told that bitch I would have the rent!”

“Yeah? Was that before or after you shoved your tongue down her throat?”

Natasha bent Kazi’s torso fully over the screenless window. He grasped frantically at her hands, clawing at them as the balanced him over the long drop to the pavement below. His bare feet kicked, trying to throw her off her equilibrium, but he was much too weak for any type of damage.

“You walked out on them.”

“What? Oh, my god, what?! I told her to get rid of it- I didn’t walk out on anyone! You’re batshit lady!”

To you, it didn’t’ seem very wise to throw insults at the woman holding you above an eight-story drop, but Kazi never was known for his intelligence. His bravado, maybe, but never anything more. He looked so small compared to Natasha’s anger.

“She didn’t get rid of it, Kazi. She kept the kid that you couldn’t have bothered to give another thought to. She made a life for both of them. She fucking loves that kid enough to fill the absence you left.” Natasha let her hand slip, letting him waver in his height for a moment before pulling him back up. He was crying, sobbing for his life. “And you have the nerve, to touch her, to break her and then come rushing back when she was strong enough to pick up the pieces?”

“I wasn’t ready,” he moaned out “I couldn’t be a dad.”

“It seems like there are a lot of things you can’t do, doesn’t it? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man. A pathetic excuse for a human being and once we leave here- I never want to see your face in my city again. Am I clear?”

Kazi let out another course of intelligible, wet, words. His back was nearly breaking under the force of Natasha’s hold, her knee directly up against his crotch, pushing down with all the strength she could muster.

“Y/n, I think this is a teaching moment, don’t you?”

The softness of her words as she addressed you caught you off guard. There was no malice. In fact, she beckoned to you as if she was calling you into the living room to join her under the blankets for a movie. Your heart raced fast enough for your chest to ache as you closed the distance between you both.

“See, the trick is making them think that you’re going to let them go.”

She said this to you as if Kazi wasn’t a slobbering mess under her touch. He’d carved little half-moon marks against the tops of her hand, some of them starting to leak blood with the sheer force of his struggle.

“You have to get creative with the fear aspect. If they think they’re going to die, it tends to work in our favor. Doesn’t it, Kazi?”

“Please,” He whimpered, “I’ll do whatever you want. I’m sorry, y/n, I’m sorry.”

Natasha did the seemingly impossible, she pushed him further out the window, his calves struggling for purchase against the drywall. “Oh, now that simply won’t do. You must keep her name out of your mouth.”

“In situations like these, darling, it’s best to keep full control. If he was anything other than wretched, then maybe you’d have to worry about him fighting back. You’ll get some people like that, but that trick is having leverage, literal and physical in cases like this.”

“I see,” You let the words escape you in a single breath “and how long do we play this game?”

“Until they know it’s not one.”

It took little effort for Natasha to push Kazi the rest of the way out the window. In spite of his clinging grip, the force of gravity was enough to do the work for her. His cry stunted in his throat and it only took a few seconds for a dull thud to echo through the alleyway, followed by the unmistakable sound of a car alarm going off.

With a small gasp, you leaned over the window yourself, staring down at the white Toyota that now had a sizeable dent in the top, the windshield spiderwebbing. Kazi let out a groan that you could hear from up here, blinking up at the sky with malice and shock in his eyes.

“Nat,” You breathed.

“Please, eight stories is survivable. Some people need to be taught a lesson.” She shrugged, pulling you back into the apartment by the sleeve of your shirt. “I’ll pay for the car repairs, if that makes you feel better, detka.”

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Of course I did.” She reached forward and cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. It was impossible to ignore the gesture, the words that she had said with so much blind passion. Tears threatened to overtake your waterline. “moya lyubov', he put his hands on you without permission and before that… before that he hurt you in ways unimaginable. I meant every word I said.”

You could hear sirens in the distance, a hazard of living in the city. They could be for Kazi, you supposed, something to take care of the surely broken ribs and the bruised ego. But, they could be for something more important.

You pushed forward and kissed Natasha delicately. You wanted to be impossibly close to her. Most gestures you had received in the past had come in the form of flowers, maybe the occasional box of chocolate from the drug store. Once again- Natasha had proved something to you.

Her chuckle vibrated into the kiss, “Mm, we should probably leave.”

You couldn’t agree more. You wanted to get out of this stupid apartment that was teeming with memories of your time with Kazi. The way he claimed his love for you, and forced you to make a horrible decision all in one exhale.

As the two of you walked down the long and winding steps, Natasha asked, “What was with the shovel thing?”

You laughed, suddenly feeling foolish for fearing Natasha in the first place. Her silence caused waves, and somehow, that was worse than if she’d threatened you outright, something that she never did with much heat.

“Kate, she told me about her ex-boyfriend, Eli, I think she said his name was.”

“Ah, Eli.” She frowned, “He cheated on her, and I only made him dig for an hour.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, as long as you never make me dig my own grave.”

 “I would never do that. There is no punishment in things you can’t control.” Natasha gave your hand a squeeze, her solemn words punctuated with a slowly creeping smile. “Besides, detka, that’s simply not my style. It was much too messy.”

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