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thewidowsledger · 3 months ago

Text

Good Luck, Babe

Pairings: College Student Natasha Romanoff x College Student Female Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Tags | Warnings: +18, smut, ANGST, jealousy, cheating (we're cheating on Steve with Natasha), Natasha has a penis, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, fingering (r receiving), dirty talk, car sex, mirror sex, hate sex (?), choking, slapping, dacryphilia, blowjob (Natasha receiving), breeding kink only if you dare to squint, Natasha fucking r like a guitar, if I missed something I am going to throw hands

Author's Note: I’ll be back in 3 weeks I guess, I already scheduled some chapters for my fics, one each week. For this week, I serve you this one-shot🤲💗 This is something I wrote when I was supposed to be studying, lol. The title says it all. I did not proofread this one and I decided to remove some parts because I feel like it's getting too long. I hope y’all are doing okay! Enjoy!

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⧗

“I realize I just wanted to stay home, have a quiet night in.”

“Oh, you intend to be quiet?”

You furrowed your brows at her question, “Yeah, why would I be loud?” You asked innocently, not aware of the redhead's innuendo, your back was facing her as you started to remove the heels you have been wearing.

“Well, if I am going to fuck someone’s girlfriend, I might want to hear her scream my name.”

⧗

You stirred from your sleep in the middle of the night, woken by the gentle sound of Natasha's snore. As you looked up at her, her auburn locks lay scattered, half-veiling her face in peaceful slumber. You gently pulled the strands aside, you admired the way her features were soft and unguarded in sleep as if she didn't drive you into the brink of ecstasy a while ago.

You watched, entranced, as the steady rise and fall of her chest painted a tranquil rhythm, like the gentle lapping of waves against the shore.

Her eyelashes fluttered softly, like fragile butterfly wings beating in the night.

Soft breaths escaped her lips and with each exhale, her warmth wrapped around you like a cozy blanket, enveloping you in comfort and security.

Your fingers traced the marks that marred her otherwise smooth skin. There were long, deep scratches on her back as you clawed to her dear life when she rammed into you, bringing you both to the peak of your own highs.

Unable to resist the urge, you leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I love you, Natasha.”

⧗

Natasha was behind the wheel of her convertible and you were riding shotgun. You both planned to get away before the graduation, a secret escape for just the two of you.

Yes, it was a secret escape, just like your clandestine affair. For the past year, you had been meeting secretly, your passionate trysts hidden away from the prying eyes around your campus.

How could one imagine that the epitome of perfection in the eyes of many, from students, professors, and school staff had chosen a band guitarist to share your deepest desires and secrets with?

The fact that you, the student body president of the College of Liberal Arts, the volleyball captain ball, the campus' debate team leader, and the devoted girlfriend of the campus’ student council Steve Rogers has been in an entangled affair with Natasha Romanoff, the school's band guitarist, was kept strictly under wraps.

Only a select few were aware of the tangled web you both were weaving behind the scenes. A few that only you, Natasha and her sister Yelena know about the affair that you’ve been keeping closely a guarded secret.

With your hands held high up in the air, you relished the feeling of the wind whipping through the open top of Natasha's convertible. The rush of air against your skin felt incredibly free and exhilarating.

As you stood there in the open wind, blissfully unaware, Natasha watched you intently, cherishing the unguarded moment between the two of you. Taking in every detail as she glanced at you the way your hair tousled in the breeze, the sparkle in your eyes as you smiled and the way your pink sundress fluttered in the wind. It was in these small moments, when she could watch you in your carefree state, where she could openly watch you and admire your carefree happiness without the need for secrecy or hiding.

Unlike when you were on campus Natasha could only watch you from a distance. Whether it was her playing with the band during a night blast events your campus would trimonthly organize, searching for your familiar face in the crowd, or her sitting in the audience far enough for her not to be seen by you, watching you shine in a debate competition you joined.

Just for once, it's only the two of you, completely unburdened by your secret affair.

“How did your send off go by the way?” Natasha asked, as she put her hands on your lower back.

“As usual, every player, even the new recruits had to spike a ball into me!” you rolled your eyes in the air. You glance at the redhead who is staring admiringly at you, you smile at her, biting your lip when she slowly dragged her hand all the way down to the curve of your ass.

“Two hands on the wheel, Romanoff.”

Natasha chuckled, tearing her right hand away from you, you slumped on the passenger seat as she did so, “And coach just told me that Bishop will be the next captain ball.”

“She's in the same position as you, right?” Natasha asked, now putting a hand over your thighs, unable to resist the temptation to touch you.

“During her residency coach had to train her as an opposite because we had filled the quota for each position. She was originally middle.”

Natasha hummed at your response. Her fingers can't help but stray, tracing patterns on your thighs. Her hands begin to move of their own accord, sneaking higher and higher up your thighs with every pass.

Her touch sends shivers down your spine, your breath hitching in your throat as her fingers make contact with your sensitive skin. You can't help but let out a soft moan, involuntarily arching towards her touch.

“Natasha,” you warned softly.

Her gaze flickers to yours innocently but she doesn't stop, her fingers continuing to trace patterns on your thighs, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, “What’s wrong?” She watches you carefully, her hands pausing in their ministrations as she waits for your response.

“Stop the car,” you demanded and she didn't hesitate. Her eyes flicker to the rear-view mirror, spotting an empty side street just ahead. She swings the car in that direction, pulling over and turning off the engine in record time.

She barely has time to register your movement before you're on her. Your legs straddling her, your body pressed close against hers as you take control of the situation. Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she grins, her hands coming up to grip your hips and pull you closer.

She trails kisses down your neck, softly nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin, careful not to make any marks even though she has been dying to mark you—to make you really hers.

Without warning, she thrusted her fingers deep inside you.

“Oh, Nat!” You cried in pleasure as she drove you higher and higher. Her fingers move faster, her thumb applying more pressure to your clit. She can feel you trembling, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“I can't believe you didn't wear any panties baby,” she chuckled, “what if someone saw my pussy while you stood there in your seat huh?”

“I-I, I—”

“Close baby?” She smirked on your neck, she added another finger curling in your tight walls that made you gasp and buck harder towards her digits.

“Nat, I’m gon’, I’m gonna…” you trailed off, finally hitting the peak of your orgasm. You chased your own breath when Natasha pulled you into a deep kiss and you let her dominate you again as she pushed her tongue onto yours.

She smirked at you as she pulled away, “You always loved quickies, baby.” She teased, licking her digits that were coated with your arousal.

You hummed, placing your forehead on hers, “Because that's what only we can afford.” You said in a small voice, your breath fanning over her mouth.

“Not now though, we have all the time in the world.” Natasha replied as she stroked your cheek, the pain was evident in her voice as she spoke. You both never really had time alone inside the campus without prying eyes or suspicions of others. The only time you have is this, when you two would plan a night out every month or when Natasha would occasionally do late-night visits where she would sneak into your dorm and the two of you would spend the night making love to each other.

“That’s the thing, Nat. We’re on our way back to the world, the real world,” you kissed her neck all the way up to her jaw and to her lips. You eyed her and kissed her nose before moving away from her lap back to the passenger seat.

The drive to the campus’ dorm complex was quick just like the quickie you had half an hour ago. Natasha pulled the car to a quiet secluded area and got out of her car. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow?” Natasha asked as she opened the passenger door, you stepped out with your training bag that you brought with you.

“Steve will pick me up tomorrow,” you said as you looked at her, you placed a kiss on her cheek, “But I for sure will see you tomorrow, alright?”

You and Natasha had agreed upon certain rules during the course of your…affair and one of those rules was that you would never mention your boyfriend's name when she was present. In this moment, however, you inadvertently forgot about this rule and his name slipped from your lips without a second thought.

Natasha just concealed her jealousy and aching heart but when you softly leaned on her, your head comfortably resting on her shoulder it was quick to soothe her. She then asked, “You don't want me to accompany you upstairs?”

“I might not let you go if I let you come with me.” You confessed but the redhead knew this too. Your eyes, however, betrayed your hidden desires, silently pleading with her to disregard any resistance and come to the dorm with you.

“Baby, don't give me those eyes,” Natasha softly whined.

You chuckled and painfully tore yourself away from your secret lover, “Good night, Nat.”

⧗

It is Tony's tradition to host a party before the school year comes to a close and has become a much-anticipated event in your campus. But this year the party held a somber undertone as it marks the end of the journey for your entire batch. Tomorrow is your graduation day and everyone will finally embark on different paths. So this night will hold a memory for all of you as you hold a bittersweet celebration bidding farewell to school days and the journey you had together.

Your boyfriend, Steve, just picked you up at your dorm and as soon as you arrived at Tony's place, your eyes scanned the room, searching for a glimpse of your secret lover. Despite Steve's firm grip on your hand, your attention was elsewhere, the need of seeing your secret lover making your heart skip a beat. You tried to remain composed, pretending to engage in conversation with Steve.

“I finished my graduation speech, love,” he told you, his voice cutting through the loud party music. Your mind was preoccupied with searching for your secret lover and you only half-listened to his words, caught up in your own thoughts.

“What? Sorry baby,” you apologized, your attention finally shifting to him.

“I said,” he held both of your hands and pulled you closer to him, eager to pull you away from whatever is distracting you, “I just finished my graduation speech,” he whispered to your ear.

You smiled, reaching up to pinch Steve's cheek proudly, “My council president.” Eyes shining with pride and happiness for him—genuinely.

Steve is a quintessential all-rounder; a true gentleman who excelled academically and was a beacon for the students as he is the student council president.

He is a good boyfriend too. He was consistent in picking you up from your classes, walking you back to your dorm. You couldn't help but notice that he possessed a mildly possessive nature, because he seemed to want to keep you shielded, no, away from the outside world because your life just revolves around the campus, gym, organization faculty, and dorm and your boyfriend made sure of that.

Whenever you attended training, tune ups or participated in debates, Steve is always there, observing and sometimes engaging in your activities. He had a subtle ego, where he'd train you, play as your opponent during debates and literally break you, pushing you through your limits because he told you that he wants you to do good, do better—he wants you to win.

He doesn't want losers and he always wins and you knew that the day he won your “yes” when he asked you on a date—he always gets what he wants—he always wins and everytime you let him.

“Stop giving Y/N those blue gooey eyes, Rogers,” Tony's joke broke the moment between you and Steve as he offered drinks. “Lovebirds, drinks?” You cringe at his words, it doesn't feel right to you.

Steve accepted a cup for himself but when you were about to get one for yourself he swiftly interjected, shielding your hand away from the tray declining the offer on your behalf. You gave Tony a strained smile, “I’m good, Tony, thanks.”

How did you even bother to get one when he never lets you drink alcohol or engage in any activities he deemed unsuitable for himself when you were out together? You often felt trapped and restricted, as if you could never truly enjoy yourself when you’re with him. He constantly kept a watchful eye on you, ensuring your compliance to his rules—making you feel constantly monitored and controlled like right now you’re basically trapped and isolated in the corner, his towering body shielding you away from the crowd in the party.

Sure, he is a good boyfriend.

“Stop, fucking in the corner blondie!” You heard his friend Sam shout at the distance and Steve just gave him a finger but still facing you.

Steve is never the one who fucks around, he always maintained decency and in fact—he is a celibate and no one knew actually—just you. It was an agreement to the both of you when your relationship began which you completely agreed and respected but what he didn't know was that you were secretly breaking that agreement by satisfying your desires every night with your secret lover.

And your secret lover, concealed by the presence of others at the party, watched despite Steve's imposing frame blocking her view. She watched as you laughed at his words and planted a kiss on his cheek every now and then. She watched Steve as he wrapped your hands around his neck, you looked happy—too happy she thought, considering she knew the truth about your secret. And the secret in question? Is her.

She clenched her jaw as you placed a final, chaste kiss on Steve's cheek, she almost lost it when your boyfriend tried to attempt to kiss your mouth but you gently stopped him by placing a finger on his lips, keeping him at bay and chuckling slightly as you finally walked away from him and from the crowd of the party.

⧗

You managed to convince Steve that you could make it back to your dorm alone, insisting that you'd see each tomorrow at graduation rites. Steve begrudgingly agreed, though you could tell he really wanted to walk you back as he usually did.

As you walked back to your dorm complex in the chill of the night, the absence of your secret lover weighed heavily on you. You didn't see a glimpse of the redhead tonight, she was nowhere to be seen at the party, leaving you to wonder where she disappeared to.

You took a deep breath before opening the door of your dorm only to be greeted by none other than your secret lover who you have been looking for the whole night.

“Out early in the party huh?”

You bit your lip pretending to not be shocked by her presence, you forgot that she had duplicated your dorm key, “I realize I just wanted to stay home, have a quiet night in.”

“Oh, you intend to be quiet?”

“Well, if I am going to fuck someone’s girlfriend, I might want to hear her scream my name.” She stepped forward and grabbed your hips, you sucked in a little breath as she inhaled in your neck. “So tell me, will you be loud for me? Y/N? Will you…scream my name?” She husked, her breath warm against your skin.

You turned to her, green orbs dilated as you looked straight at her eyes.

“Don’t I?” You whispered in a very dangerous tone as you ran your thumb against her lips, “always,” you caressed her cheek and traced your fingers along her tense jawline, “scream your name?”

A growl ripped out through her, she immediately grabbed your hips and turned your back on her front. Her lips found your neck and she sucked and bit gently, leaving a faint mark. With a swift movement, you yelped a little as Natasha pulled your left leg up, causing your skimpy dress to roll up even further. Her hand instinctively went up to the back of your thigh, gripping it tightly.

You didn't notice that you were both facing your vanity mirror. Natasha's eyes darkened while yours widened as you looked at your reflection through the mirror. Natasha's right hand sneaks through your panties, finding its way to your core. She begins to rub gentle circles, causing you to gasp and lean back against her.

“Fuck!”

Natasha's left hand grips your thigh with the same precision and strength as when she holds her electric guitar during their gigs. Meanwhile, her right hand continues to strum your core like how she played a wild solo on her guitar.

She was the artist and you were the art.

“Oh yes, yes ah!”

Your moans fill the air, her fingers moving with a skilled rhythm that could make any musician jealous. To her, your moans and the sloppy sound of your pussy are like music to her ears, a symphony of pleasure that she herself is producing. Your moans crescendo, becoming louder and more frequent as she pushes her fingers in and out of you while her thumb continues to strum your clit. Your moans are like a song she is composing right this moment and the only lyrics is her name.

“Natasha!” You moaned out in pleasure.

Her breath hitches as she continues to pleasure you. She leans in close to your ear again, her voice a low purr. “Open your eyes and look in the mirror.”

You hazily opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was her smokey eyes filled with lust, desire, and pleasure. You then dragged your gaze down to her digits disappearing inside your cunt—the sight only brought you closer to the edge.

“C-cum—please let me cum,” you whined, a tear falling down your cheek. You can feel her lips curling into a predatory smile on your neck as she hears your plea. She doesn't respond with words, instead choosing to increase the tempo of her fingers.

“Only if you open those pretty eyes of yours and look at the mirror, detka.”

You squeezed your eyes shut before managing to open them again, looking straight at her through the mirror.

“Come and scream my name.”

“Oh f—fu—Natasha!”

You finally fall over, throwing your head back on her shoulder, a triumphant cry escaping your lips as she feels your body tremble against her. As the waves of pleasure subside, Natasha removes her fingers and you watch her in the mirror as she brings them to her lips, sucking them clean with a satisfied purr. She immediately catches your trembling body, still recovering from your orgasm, she then carries you into a bridal style and gently places you to the bed.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You hummed pulling her by her leather jacket, “Please stay, Natty.”

Natasha watches as your eyes flutter closed, she carefully extracts herself from your embrace, but you cling to her, your grip tightening on her jacket. Natasha pauses, her heart heavy in her chest as she looks down at your sleeping form. She knows she had planned to talk to you tonight, to finally come clean about her feelings, but now that the moment is here, she can't just bring herself to wake you up.

She takes a deep breath, her fingers gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face. She remembers the first time she saw you, how easy it was to slip into her role as a recluse and simply observe. You were the most popular student on campus, an achiever, the captain ball, always surrounded by a group of admirers. It made it all too easy to keep her feelings under wraps. That's why she couldn't believe the moment her sister told her that you wanted to meet her and it ended up with you in her car, begging her to let you come.

It wasn't long before things took a turn. You would find yourself asking her to come to your dorm after your classes were over, even if Natasha’s class isn't, she would immediately have an early out just to go to you only for the two of you to spend the night relentlessly fucking each other until neither of you could move anymore.

One time her sister brought her to your game. And she saw you struggling to keep up with the rest of your team—having a bad day to play. She watched you go to Steve and how he threw you your towel and handed you your tumbler being the supportive boyfriend that everyone thinks he is when he is acting like an entitled self-proclaimed coach just watching you, not even cheering or hyping you up.

And before she knew it, when you walked towards where she sat during the game completely shocked at her presence, she leaned enough for everyone not to notice—she offered to fuck you as a reward if ever you win the game. Only if she knew that you have a game, she would bring everything she thinks you might need, she’ll bring you a jug of water, different colors of kinesiology tape, hell, she would buy you new shoes. But right now motivation is all she can offer because it's too high of a risk if she did all these things.

It was the first time she had seen you play because it was one of your rules, for her not to show up whenever you're in a competition, games, tune ups or in an event organized by you or your organization. You had explained to her that you preferred to keep things hidden, no, low-key, to avoid attracting unwanted attention that could arise from others noticing the two of you. She agreed, not even thinking a bit of it because she wanted you safe as you hold a lot of titles in you. She doesn't want to ruin your image though it breaks her heart not being able to watch you win and be successful in each game or competition.

Would that still be important if after you win it was her you would spend the night with where she’ll see you in all your glory as she makes you feel like a champion once more?

At first, keeping your affair a secret had been easy. It was a necessary precaution, one that she understood and respected. But as time went on, Natasha found herself yearning for more.

Sometimes she wishes she would be the one you’re running to after you won a game. She wanted to be able to cheer you on from the sidelines as you won game after game, competition after competition, events after events. She wanted to be there every time you win and every moment of loss—she’ll be there no matter what.

But that will happen anymore, Natasha could already feel the weight of the unknown future bearing down on her. This was it, the moment she had both been looking forward to and dreading. You two are graduating tomorrow, new chapters, new beginnings and things aren't still settled for the both of you, you never opened up, you never told her where you stood in this…clandestine affair.

And that made her want you more. She yearned to be by your side, proudly and openly. She craved for the day when she didn't have to hide her feelings for you or keep her presence a secret. She hoped for the day when she could stand beside you, not as a shadow, not a secret but as a partner—your lover.

Is that too much to ask for?

⧗

The sun was beating down on the graduates and their families, sweat glistening on their foreheads as they chatted and laughed, snapping pictures and the students—graduates hugged each other tightly, tears streaming down their faces as they said their goodbyes.

Natasha's eyes frantically searched for you. Her heart pounded in her chest as she clutched her trencher, every second feeling like an eternity as she scanned the sea of faces—and there you were standing with Steve and she assumed his family—deep in conversation and laughter.

In the midst of the chaotic crowd around you, both of your gazes met and everything else faded away—it felt like the whole world stopped and it’s just the two of you.

You snapped back to reality as Steve pulled you into a warm embrace and kissed the side of your head, his family looking on with teasing grins. But you couldn't help but feel a twinge of cringe because you knew Natasha was watching all this happen.

“Love, I’ll just go see my friends and Mom.” You said, pulling back from Steve’s suffocating embrace. You gave him a small convincing smile as you tried to get yourself away from the situation.

When he nodded you immediately excused yourself to his family and ran towards the direction where you last saw the redhead. Before you could even go away there was a hand who stopped you from walking-running, you gasped as warm and strong arms pulled you into embrace—not a suffocating one.

“Hey beautiful.”

“Nat.” You sighed, leaning closer to her. Her scent envelopes your senses.

You were suddenly jolted back into reality, and swiftly disentangled yourself from Natasha's embrace. You could see the pain flickering in Natasha's eyes as you retreated hastily. You despised yourself for causing her this, yet you couldn't explain your actions just yet. It wasn't that you didn't care for her—quite the opposite, but the fear of exposure and being not accepted prevented you from being out with her freely.

How you wished you could tell her that.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you.”

“Nat, I need to find mom, we…” you trailed off, unsure on how to tell her, “we’re gonna have lunch with Steve’s family.”

Nat's eyes searched your face, sensing the turmoil within you. She seemed to want to say something but held back, her silent gaze speaking volumes. You didn't miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes and the sorrow etched on her face. You were all too familiar with this. So, you swiftly reassured her, placing a gentle hand against her cheek, silently begging her to focus on you.

“Nat, don't forget our week-long plans,” you reminded her softly, your thumb tenderly caressing her cheek. “I’ll be all yours, just you and me.”

Natasha despised how effortlessly you could coax her, and yet, she surrendered willingly as she always did—her love for you overriding all the resistance. Every time you whispered sweet reassurances and gave a comforting touch, she melted, her resolve crumbling effortlessly.

She could never say no to you.

Just as you were about to lean in to steal a kiss from Natasha, a sharp call of your name pierced through the air.

“Y/N.”

You turned around to see your mother watching the two of you, “Mama…”

How you wished she didn't see you lean in for Natasha and to alleviate the awkwardness, you introduce them both to each other.

Nervously, you began, your voice quivering slightly, “Mom, this is Nat…” you trailed off, unsure on how to introduce your lover because you cannot just introduce her as your lover yet since your mom knew about Steve and ‘friend’ just didn't seem adequate to describe what you shared with Natasha, not if you both know what each other tasted like. The thing between you and Natasha was too complex, too dangerous, too intense to be boxed into a single label.

You looked towards Natasha, offering a strained smile, silently begging her to make a good impression. Your mother was known for being judgmental at times, and the last thing you wanted was for her to disapprove of the person dearest to you.

Natasha took the initiative, greeting your mom, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” and she extended a hand. However, your mom's gaze remained fixed, her eyes honed in on the intertwined fingers of your hands with redhead. The subtle gesture didn't escape your mom's keen eyes.

Sensing your mom's penetrating stare, you quickly withdrew your hand from Natasha, creating a bit of distance between the two of you. Your mother seemed lost in thought for a moment before snapping back to reality and reaching out to shake Natasha's hand.

“Congratulations.” She greeted with her unreadable expression and the redhead gave her a warm smile and thanked her.

“Steve and his family are waiting for us.”

You nod, acknowledging your mom's reminder before she started walking away. You turned towards Natasha and you found her looking down, she then handed you a box and whispered, “You should go.”

Despite the aching in your chest, you managed a feeble smile, holding the box she had handed you. It is a necklace with a guitar pendant similar with the electric guitar she's using during her gigs, “It's beautiful.”

No reply came out from the redhead and her silence is making you hard to leave, you longed to remain here—to embrace her. Your heart clenched in your chest as you attempted to suppress the tears threatening to spill, “I'll see you, Nat. Okay?”

Natasha stood there, her eyes fixated on you as you walked away. A soft whisper escaped her lips, lost in the air, wishing that these words are enough to make you stay.

“I love you.”

⧗

Two months had crept by since your graduation day and the affair with Natasha remained a secretive yet constant part of your life. The thrill and passion you shared with her continued to burn brightly, with neither of you daring to mention the status of the affair. The question of what it meant would remain locked away, hidden beneath layers of secrecy.

Not until you kept another secret from your secret lover herself.

“So when are you going to tell me about it?” Natasha's voice was cold as she cut through the silence, her anger barely contained.

You froze under her intense gaze, your body shaking as you fought back tears.

“I...I'm sorry,” you whispered.

Shaking her head, Natasha continued, her eyes flickering with hurt and anger. “Engaged? And you didn’t tell me?”

Your tears finally cascaded down your face as you relived the memories of four days ago, when Steve had proposed to you. How could you say no? He decided to propose to you in front of his parents and your mother. And the sickening weight of expectations and the pressure of you saying yes to him had overwhelmed you causing you to yield without hesitation.

Natasha had learned about the proposal from Steve himself and he had even made a joke about her reuniting with the campus band and playing at your wedding.

It was no secret because you were planning to tell her, of course you are, you were just looking for the right time but when she showed up at your apartment minutes ago, her intoxication evident in her glassy eyes and the strong smell of alcohol that hung heavy got to her, you knew—but you didn't know that it came from your fiance himself.

Natasha's voice cracked in anger and despair, “I did everything you wanted! I followed your rules, your demands. I stayed away when you asked, I played along to keep our…fuck!” She suddenly broke off, a bitter laugh escaping her lips as she wiped the tears trickling down her cheeks. “Relationship isn't even the right word. We're not even a couple, right?”

“Stupid,” she chuckled, “stupid! stupid, stupid!” Natasha unleashed a punch to each word, slamming into the wall next to her. You flinched and fought the urge to soothe her but she turned to you, tears streaming down her face.

“I played along to…” she choked back a sob, “to keep you!” She spat, pointing a finger on you.

Maybe it was too much to ask for.

Her words hit you like a knife to the heart, causing you to physically flinch. Your tears welled up and fell uncontrollably, your whole body quivering with sobs as you struggled to hold yourself together.

“Sorry.”

Your heart was heavy with guilt for causing Natasha so much pain. The single word didn't seem enough to fix the hurt you had done, but it was all you could manage in this moment.

“I just wan…” she breathed, “I just want you to be mine.”

“I am yours, Natasha.” You managed to immediately say between sobs, placing your palm over your chest emphasizing each word.

“Are you?” Her brows knit together, “with that ring on your finger?”

Natasha approached you and with every inch she advanced, you slowly retreated, your body moving back in response to her encroaching presence. Natasha finally stood close, her body towering over you. You could feel the heat of her breath on your skin, infused with the strong scent of alcohol. Her chest rose and fell with each heavy breath she took.

“Y/N you were never mine to begin with and I had to live up with that.”

You were looking away from her, arms wrapped tightly around yourself in a protective manner. Natasha's fingers gently guided your chin, tilting your head up to meet her eyes. Her touch was electrifying as she slid her fingers down to your arm, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“I chose to live up with that.”

Her movements were slow and deliberate as she took your engagement ring off your finger and examined it before letting it bounce to the carpet of your bedroom.

“Engaged, hm?” Natasha smirked, the pads of her thumb wiping the tears running down your cheek, “did you let Steve finally fuck you after you said yes to him?”

You breath hitched at the question but you immediately shook your head sideways, her hands slipped at the back of your neck and hissed.

“I am the only one who can make you say yes over and over again.”

“Natasha, y-you’re drunk,” you stuttered, you would never deny the redhead but you feel uncertain and scared around her right now.

She heard you but she didn't care, she then pulled you into a bruising kiss. Her lips were cold and demanding, silencing any further protests. She held the back of your neck tightly, “Shut up.”

She walked you backwards as she kissed you, the kisses becoming sloppy with each step. You felt the edge of the bed against the back of your knees and as she kissed you deeply, you slowly sank down onto the mattress.

“Lie down.”

“Nat, please…we can talk late—” you were cut short when she shoved her forefinger in your mouth. She watched as you squeezed your eyes shut, finally giving up, your lips sucking gently around her finger.

You chased her finger when she removed it out your mouth then your gaze went down as she moved to remove her belt. Her movements were deliberate as she undid the buckle and pulled it from the loops of her pants, causing them to fall open with her boxers.

Natasha's hand wrapped around a fistful of your hair, harshly tugging your head forward and forcing you to kneel in front of her. Your hands instinctively held her the back of her legs for support, her length inches on your faces as if you knew what to do, your hands slowly reached out to touch her. You wrapped your fingers around her shaft, feeling its thickness and hardness, your thumb rubbing the tip with the pre-cum that covered it.

“Open your mouth,” she plainly said, a command rather than a request. Your lips parted slowly and without a second she pushed forward, easing herself into your mouth. Natasha's expression hardened as she gripped your hair, her hips bucking forward aggressively. She thrust into your mouth without remorse, tears welled in your eyes, but she remained unmoved, solely focused on her own pleasure.

She fucked your mouth ruthlessly, her thighs trembling with the force of her movements. Your nose was pressed against her pelvis, your eyes watering from the rough treatment. The only sound was the sloppy wet noises of her thrusting and your muffled cries.

Natasha was one to fight her moans and grunts back, but she was unable to hold them as she unleashed a thick, hot load directly into your mouth. The force of her orgasm sent ropes of cum shooting down your throat, making you choke and gag on the sheer volume.

In a sudden move, Natasha yanked you up by your hair, her cock slipping out of your mouth with an audible pop. She took a step back, leaving you panting and disoriented, your mouth agape, tears falling down your cheek, spit on the side of your lips and her cum inside you mouth. She reached down and yanked your hair again, forcing you to look up at her. She spat into your open mouth, watching as the saliva mingled with her cum.

“Swallow.”

She squeezed your chin, applying pressure until your throat opened up. You looked straight into her eyes, you felt the lump of cum and spit lodge in your mouth, and then you swallowed the liquid sliding down your throat.

Natasha released her hold on your chin and hair, her voice taking on a dismissive tone. “Bed,” she ordered, turning away from you to clean herself up. You scrambled to your feet, quickly making your way to the bed, the sheets cool against your heated skin.

Natasha hovered on top of you, you tried looking into her bloodshot eyes but you couldn't see anything. You couldn't see her. Her eyes didn't sparkle the way it did when you two were making love…is this even making love?

You wanted to make it up to her, you wanted her to use you for what you did to her. For hurting her, it is all that you could do as of now—it’s all that you could offer. But you wanted her to talk to you through it like she always had, but right now she doesn't seem to care about what you need.

Natasha locked her knees on yours, her thighs squeezing tight to keep you pinned in place. She surged forward, burying her face in the crook of your neck. You could smell the alcohol on her breath as she trailed kisses down your body. She then nipped at your skin, her teeth sinking in hard enough to leave bruises. Right now, she didn't care. In fact, she wanted you to be marked, marked by her and not by your stupid fiance.

“N-Nat…Steve might com—” before you could even finish your sentence, Natasha slapped you hard across the face, the sting making your eyes water.

“Don't fucking say his name when you're underneath me,” she snarled and as if losing her patience she harshly pulled you by your thighs towards her. Without giving you a chance to protest, Natasha thrust into your core with a ferocity you hadn't expected. You could feel yourself stretching around her, each movement of her hips sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Natasha folded your thighs towards your chest, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. You eyed her, tears ready to fall down as she fucked you with reckless abandon. She was like a different person, all rough edges and sharp angles, her usually composed, sweet, and caring nature replaced by a harsh, uncaring desire. Her usually gentle features were twisted into a snarl, her eyes cold and hard, lacking the warmth and spark that usually dwelled within them.

You couldn't help but wince as she thrust into you again and again, the pain dulling the pleasure, yet you let her continue. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly as you bit back a moan, your mouth agape in a silent scream as she took what she wanted.

You

You tried to claw her back, but she was too quick for you. She wiggled and before you knew it, she had gripped both of your hands on her own, pinning them above your head. She didn't want you to touch her and the realization stung.

She then suckled your tits hard, biting and pulling on them until you cried out in pain and pleasure. The rough treatment and seeing you in pain seemed to turn her on more, and she then continued to abuse your sensitive breasts.

“Say you're mine,” at least just this moment.

“Natasha, I’m yours, I’m yours.” You moaned reassuringly—genuinely and you wanted her to see it, to feel it. “I—I'm yours, I'm you...yours,” you breathe, having a hard time to utter a word as she rammed into you.

Natasha's eyes become glossy again, she shook her head sideways as if she's trying to remove what you just said in her head that is now finally ingrained, she asked you to say it, of course you would say it back, but it sounded real and she hated it.

“You're not,” she slurred, “but I am going to make you.”

Natasha’s grunts grew louder, more primal as she neared her peak. Her face contorted, eyes screwed shut, and her movements became jerky, uncoordinated. She touched your lower abdomen to feel her cock bulging in and out. She was close, so close, and you could do nothing but lie helpless beneath her, tears leaving a trail on your cheeks as she held you down and used your body.

She finally let out a guttural growl, her body spasming as she emptied herself inside of you.

At least in this way she could make you really hers.

You jolted awake from the dream as the sound of your baby's cry made you alarmed. It's an instinct that you developed since you had your baby, whatever sound she made you'll be quick to get or coo her, doesn't matter if you're in the shower, cooking or asleep.

You slowly sat in the bed, wiping the sweat that glistened on your neck. You breathed in and out to calm yourself. It was a dream, just a dream, you're not new to it, it's same dream you always dream. It did happen but it never failed to visit—haunt you even in your sleep.

It was a dream but what you're living right now is a nightmare.

You looked over at Steve's body, deep in slumber beside you, the sight of him only causing a lump to form in your throat. The tears began to well up in your eyes, and you quickly looked away, unable to bear the ache and guilt any longer.

You quietly moved away from the bed, the sound of your baby's cries growing louder with every step you took. Your heart swelled as you reached the crib, carefully picking up your child and cradling her in your arms. You gently shushed your baby, cooing softly as you fixed the red hair that had become mussed during her sleep, her little face scrunched up as she wailed.

“Shh, mommy's here.” You whispered as you blinked rapidly, trying to clear your vision to fight back your own tears.

As if she was actually listening to you, her cries became silent as her small chubby hand reached up, her fingers wrapping around the delicate chain of your necklace. She tugged gently and your heart skipped a beat as she pulled the guitar dangle free, holding it in her tiny grasp.

You gently rocked your baby, cooing soft lullaby as you tried to soothe her back to sleep. But as you looked down at her, her green orbs shimmering with unshed tears was looking innocently straight at you. Your heart shattered at the sight and the tears you'd been holding back began to fall, softly dripping onto your baby's soft skin.

“I love you, little one.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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thewidowsledger · 2 months ago

Text

Who Do I Look Out For?

Word count: 5.7k

Pairings: Avenger Natasha Romanoff x Agent Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: +18, fluff & angst combo but mostly angst, Natasha has a penis, pregnant reader, traumatized Natty, smut, mutual masturbation, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, soft sex (yes please), grief...not gonna tell you everything sorry…

Author's Note: Finally! First series done! Thank you for keeping up with this one y'all, I hope y'all will still keep up with my next fics after what I did here...this is actually not the plot I originally planned but I liked how this one turned out, I love y'all hehe don't hate me👉👈

MINI SERIES: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

⧗

“Natasha I am here, baby’s here.” Gently, you pulled away. You took her hand and placed it on your swollen belly.

Her hand on your stomach trembled as she felt the warmth of your skin and the life growing inside you. Slowly, her other hand reached up to cradle your face, her fingers gently stroking your cheek. You leaned your forehead against her.

“Feel me, I’m here.”

⧗

You both made your way through the grocery store, Natasha was behind you making sure she could see you but there was a noticeable distance between you and her, as always Natasha thought. You stayed a few steps behind her when she dragged a cart near the counter and hardly spoke. But Natasha made sure to check on you, she glanced over her shoulder at you a few times, but you were lost in your thoughts, seemingly oblivious to her concerned gazes.

As you continued to follow Natasha through the aisles, your eyes were uncontrollably drawn to anything related to strawberries. You began gathering every strawberry product you laid eyes on, strawberry yogurt, strawberry jam, dried strawberries, even a strawberry candle–and placed them in the cart.

“At this rate, we'll need an entire fridge just for strawberry products,” she joked, nervous if you're going to respond or not but to her surprise, you did.

“Mhm,” came your brief, yet music to Natasha's ears. Even that simple sound of response was enough to bring a smile to her face, just a monosyllabic response felt like a small victory for her. It’s been getting hard for her to read you, one second you’ll talk to her and then in a snap you won’t. What’s worse is that most of the time you really won’t.

Natasha watched you from a small distance as you searched for any strawberry related product, her smile widening each time you found a new item to add to the cart. Though you had been distant lately, this moment felt like a return to normal, if only for a brief while. She enjoyed seeing you so animated and distracted, even if it was only over something as piffling as strawberries. Natasha found herself secretly hoping this mood would last a little longer.

Your eyes locked onto a carton of strawberry juice box that seemed to taunt you from the top shelf, just out of your reach. With a determined look on your face, you rose on your tiptoes, attempting to stretch as far as possible to grab it. But as you did, your protruding baby bump proved to be stopping you, preventing you from reaching it.

You were about to call for Natasha when you noticed a woman talking to her—a striking beautiful woman.

As you observed the lady speaking to Natasha, a wave of insecurity washed over you. Her beauty and poise were undeniable and involuntarily, you found yourself comparing yourself to her in your mind.

You noticed her flawless skin, blonde long silky hair not like Thor though and she was wearing a tight dress that flexed the curve of her body. Against your own form–heavy with the weight of pregnancy and marked by the effects of hormones–and the overall feeling of being less physically attractive.

You couldn't help but be conscious of what you're wearing, you were just wearing a spaghetti strap, a long cotton cardigan jacket on top of it and a boho ruffled skirt. But you don't actually feel like it's about what you're wearing, you feel ugly.

As you continued to observe, your mind now focused on the interaction, it became clear that the woman was not just making casual conversation or maybe asking your girlfriend. Her body language was unmistakably flirty, leaning in, touching Natasha's arm and giving her a coy smile.

Your girlfriend, however, seemed oblivious to the woman's advances or chose to dismiss them. Her responses were polite but short and she subtly distanced herself whenever the woman tried to get too close. You actually hated your girlfriend for being like this, it happened many times already. When someone is trying to hit on her, she would either ignore or wait for you to come around to rescue her.

Natasha was trying to finish the conversation with the woman that she didn't even start, but when she sees you, it feels like being saved. She smiled, anticipating that you would add another strawberry item to the cart. However, her smile faded as she watched you place the kitchen knife in the cart instead. She shot a nervous glance at you as you pretended to fix the items you placed in the cart. Her heart rate slightly picked up in concern and fear.

The woman looked at you with a slightly stunned expression, as she saw the bump in your stomach. “Oh…” she muttered, the realization finally setting in. She turned back to Natasha, her tone apologetic.

“I didn't realize,” she offered awkwardly.

Oh, how you wish she realized that it was a knife that you put in the cart.

Meanwhile, Natasha, still somewhat oblivious to the woman's previous attempts to flirt, “I gotta go, that's my wife.”

“Oh…”

You were stunned in place as you heard Natasha speak those words. That’s my wife, each word rolling off her tongue effortlessly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to say. Despite your current status as girlfriends, hearing her declare you as her wife sent a rush of emotions through you. The insecurities that had been weighing heavily on your mind earlier seemed to melt away. You immediately walked out while your girlfriend quickly pushed the cart and hurried after you.

As you walked silently through the store, Natasha could sense that something was off with you, well, it has always been like this, nothing new. She still stayed a few steps behind you, giving you the space you needed, like she always does but she couldn't shake the feeling that she had done something wrong. She then stared at the knife you put on the cart and immediately fished it out and put it in the chip aisle before you could even catch her.

Natasha’s eyes pretended to wander around when you walked back at her only to be drawn to a baby section. She followed your every move as you walked through the aisle with a big smile. She was utterly smitten by you, her heart swelling with affection with every glance. Her gaze kept returning to your stomach, to the tiny bump that she noticed grew more prominent each day. Seeing the bump, the evidence of the life growing inside you, etched an even deeper love in her heart. You were carrying her child and it only made you more beautiful in her eyes.

You were perfect.

Natasha then felt a heatwave of longing as she watched you, the cardigan slipping from your shoulder, revealing the soft skin that she had once traced with her fingers and lips. And she coughed as she tried to avoid the thoughts.

It had been too long since she had touched you, too long that she could only recall in her mind the memories and images of you as she struggled to take care of herself alone. She yearned to feel you quiver beneath her once again, to hear the soft gasps that escaped your lips as she brought you to new heights. The way you would melt into her touch like warm wax, you letting her use you without hesitation. The way you would part your lips, your legs…

“Need help?”

Natasha was abruptly brought back to reality when she heard a man’s voice talking to you. She quickly made her way over to you and the stranger who had approached you.

“She's fine,” She then pointed to the item you were trying to reach and asked, “this one, baby? ”

You blinked and gave her a small nod before she reached up and grabbed the item you were trying to get, she placed it on the cart hand and immediately took your hand, pulling you away from the stranger. She finally let go of you when you turned from another aisle but her hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you gently possessively as she looked around the sign of the man.

She doesn't care now, she never made a bold move to touch you, the only time she can be close to you is when she gets to kiss your forehead every morning, she is done being subtle and holding back. She didn't care if she just invaded your space or her act seconds ago would irritate you like how you get irritated by her when she tries to come near your shared bed, because she wouldn't watch any man or anyone get too close with you.

As you turned a corner, you suddenly saw a group of young women who looked like they were still in college. They were all giggling and chatting with each other, and you couldn't help but feel self-conscious, again.

You immediately fidgeted, and pulled your cardigan wishing it would cover your upper body. Being overwhelmed at the situation, you decide that you're done for this day and you immediately head towards the checkout counter.

Natasha trailed behind you, pushing the shopping cart. When she notices your direction, she pipes up, “You're not gonna get anything more, baby?”

You pause for a moment before shaking your head, still feeling a bit insecure and not really in the mood to shop anymore. Natasha picks up on your body language, she notices that you're fidgeting with your cardigan, pulling it tightly around your body. It's a familiar gesture to her, one that you always do when you're feeling insecure.

After you finish paying for your items and the cashier bids you good day, Natasha turns to you with a concerned look on her face. She notices that you're still not quite yourself.

The drive back to the compound was mostly quiet. You sat in the passenger seat of the car, staring out the window, lost in your own thoughts. Natasha glanced over at you occasionally, but she could tell that you weren't quite ready to talk yet—as always.

As she drove, she put on the song “Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You” on the car stereo. The song was special for you because you both always danced together to it in the mornings or after missions when it’s just the two of you. As the song continued to play and your hormones were all over the place due to your pregnancy, making it difficult for you to control your emotions. You could feel your emotions getting the best of you, and you couldn't help but sniffle as tears streamed down your face. And you turned to look at the window to hide your ugly cry face as if your partner hadn't seen it for how long you have been together.

Natasha glanced over at you, noticing you sniffle every now and then but trying to keep her focus on the road. Without thinking, she reached over and took your hand in hers, bringing it to her lips and kissing it tenderly.

As she continued to kiss your hand, Natasha was surprised when you didn't pull it away. Normally, you would have pushed her away when she tried to touch you when you weren't in the mood to be touched, which is most of the time you weren't. However, this time, you let her keep your hand in her lips as she hummed along with the song.

As the song came to an end, a comfortable silence fell over the car. Natasha finally broke the silence by speaking up, her voice soft and gentle.

“You know you're beautiful, right?”

The lump in your throat grew larger, and you could feel tears stinging the corners of your eyes. It was harder than you thought to hold them back, to keep them from spilling out. Stupid hormones.

Natasha squeezed your hand gently, her eyes never leaving the road as she spoke. She needed you to know how she truly felt.

“You know that I could never look at any woman the same way I look at you, right? You’re the absolute most beautiful person in the world to me. Every inch of your skin, every curve and every imperfection, it drives me mad how perfect I find you, baby. I could never take my eyes off you…”

“My beautiful girlfriend, my wife…the beautiful mother of my child.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep yourself from falling apart completely, but it was a losing battle. The tears were building up, threatening to overflow, and you could feel your heart twisting inside your chest but her words? Oh, Natasha’s words…

Every time Natasha spoke, it was like a balm to your soul. Whether she was showering you with praise and affection or offering reassurance when you needed it most, her words always managed to touch you in a way that nothing else could. The way she expressed her love and devotion through her words and actions even though at times you weren’t making things easy for her. No matter how many times you heard her sweet words, they still had the power to make you feel adored and loved, reminding you of the deep love you have for the woman despite your hormones making you hate her.

As the tidal wave of emotions overwhelmed you, you couldn't hold back anymore. With a shaky breath, you finally looked over at Natasha with your ugly ass cry face—your face was a mess of tears and snot.

“Hi mama.”

Natasha held your hand in her lips and you laughed at her nickname, it was as though all your insecurities were briefly forgotten. The weight of your negative thoughts and doubts evaporated for a moment, as if a wave had come and washed the shoreline clean. Despite the emotional storm that had just occurred, Natasha’s ability to bring levity to the situation was one of the many things you adored about her.

You bite your lip as you look at her driving, “Baby wants some ice-cream.” You said in a soft murmur and Natasha couldn’t help but melt right then and there, finally hearing your beautiful voice.

“Oh really? I think baby is making mama want some ice-cream.” Natasha accused as she pointed to your tummy, your hand still in her hand.

And that earned another point from Natasha when you giggled again, much longer and louder this time.

⧗

You finally arrived at the compound and you entered your shared bedroom with Natasha, ice cream still in hand, and settled onto the bed. As you took bites of the sweet treat, Natasha busied herself with arranging the groceries in the mini fridge she brought for you since she knew you were pregnant.

The room was quiet, save for your soft sounds of satisfaction as you continued to enjoy your ice cream. There was a sense of comfort and domesticity in the air, a normalcy that was somehow both strange and familiar after all that had happened.

As Natasha finished putting all the strawberry items you hoarded in the grocery store, she removed her leather jacket, revealing the tank top underneath. Then, she shimmied out of her pants, revealing a pair of black boxers that did little to hide the bulge straining against the fabric. You paused, ice cream mid-lick, as you openly gawked at her. The cold treat dripped onto your hand, but you barely noticed, too preoccupied with the sight before you.

You instinctively ate the ice cream in the same way you sucked her. The motion reminded you of the way you had kneel in front of her, face between her thighs, eager to taste her, to please her as she guided you through it.

Spike in sex drive, check.

“I’m gonna shower,” she said, she did not look at you as she immediately went to grab her towel. You on the other hand are all sticky, fingers…and down there. You licked your fingers as you took the final bite of the ice-cream cone.

Only if you knew how much she needed you inside the shower.

Natasha stepped into the shower, the cold water spraying against her flushed skin. She turned the knob all the way to the left, seeking relief from the heat she felt. But it was no use. Her body ached for release, for your touch. The cold water did nothing to cool the fire burning within her.

Two months had passed since what happened and Natasha still struggled to cope. She felt lost, alone, and unheard. The distance between you two only made things worse. She found herself unable to take care of herself, her daily routines a constant reminder of her loneliness. The shame and frustration built up inside her, manifesting in these secret moments of self-relief in the bathroom and shower. She longed for your touch, your comfort, your presence.

“Oh, Y/N…” she moaned, her voice barely audible over the shower. “Y/N…” She pictured you on your knees before her, taking her entire cock into your mouth, your hands caressing her thighs, her hips.

As the water continued to cascade down her body, Natasha's hand picked up pace, stroking her length with desperate need. Her other hand pressed against the shower wall, fingers digging into the tile as she rode out the waves of pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,”

Natasha's breath hitched as her fantasy took over. She imagined your fingers trailing up her back, drawing her closer, urging her to thrust deeper into your mouth. Her hand mirrored her fantasy, tightening around her base and pumping faster, deeper.

“Y/N,” she gasped, her voice barely a whisper as she called out for you. Her body convulsed, her knees buckling as she found her release. Her forehead resting at the cold tile of the bathroom.

While you were slumped and laying in bed. The cold ice-cream did nothing to ease the heat your body is feeling now. Your hands slipped beneath the hem of your skirt, slowly sliding upwards.

Your fingers brushed against your damp panties, you couldn't hold back a soft gasp. You could feel how wet you were. With a trembling hand, you pushed your panties aside, your fingertips grazing your slick folds.

You closed your eyes, imagining Natasha's touch instead of your own. Her gentle caress, her loving touch, her passion. Your breathing hitched as you slowly parted your wet folds, your fingers sliding along your crease. You bit your lip to muffle a moan, your hips rising to meet your hand. You curled your finger, rubbing against your sensitive wall, and your other hand reached up to pinch your nipple through your top.

The dual stimulation was almost too much to bear. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you imagined Natasha's face, her lips, her touch. You then focused on your clit, rubbing it in circles and your free hand fumbled with your shirt, finally freeing your breast.

“Natasha…” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper. Your finger rubbing your clit fast, this is the only way you could make yourself come, not the same way Natasha does. Her ways were much, oh so much better. She has different ways on how to make you come and beg for more.

Your breath coming in short pants. “Natasha, please…” you moaned louder, arching your back, your body tensing as the pressure built inside you.

And finally, your body shook violently as your orgasm hit, you buried your fingers deep inside you and you spasmed whenever it hit your clit. You feel your eyes droop and in just a few moments you’re already asleep.

Natasha emerged from the bathroom, a towel on her shoulders. Her face pale and her eyes guilty. And when she approached the bed, she saw you already deep in sleep beneath the covers, your breathing slow and even.

Only if she knew that your fingers were still knuckle-deep in your pussy behind the thick covers of the duvet.

⧗

“Can you go with me? I have a check-up with Dr. Cho.”

Natasha’s heart raced as she processed your words. You never asked for her to accompany you with Dr. Cho appointments before, usually you would go with Wanda or Yelena, literally anyone but not her. So the sudden request caught her off guard. But, she quickly nodded, afraid that you might take it back.

“Of course, I’ll come with you. Thank you, baby. Thank you for asking me to come with you.”

You just nodded along, your mind preoccupied with thoughts of your upcoming appointment or rather with the thought of Natasha going with you for the first time. Your hand absently rubbed your stomach, caressing it. And the redhead watched you, her eyes lingering on the gentle movement of your hand, she longed to touch your belly and talk to the mini me that is growing inside you.

“Do we go now? Or later?”

“I wanna go now.”

As you both walked to the medical bay, you found yourself not lagging behind Natasha like you usually did. Instead, you were walking beside her, close enough that your arms brushed against each other. Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed onto her arm, your fingers wrapping around her strong bicep.

The redhead couldn't help but smile, “I got you, Y/N.”

“Hi mama.” Dr. Cho greeted you, you offered the doctor a smile and then Natasha appeared at the frame of the door, “...and mommy.”

“Well then, let’s get started mommies?” Dr. Cho said excitedly. The doctor tried to talk you out of it, giving you advice not just for your relationship but for the future of your child. And by seeing you and Natasha now, she is very happy with the progress.

Dr. Cho ushered you to lie down on the bed. Natasha moved to help you, her strong hands gently supporting you as you climbed up. She adjusted the pillow behind your head.

“You can sit there, Romanoff.” Cho motioned on a chair beside the bed.

Once you and Natasha were settled comfortably on your own, Dr. Cho began preparing the ultrasound equipment. She moved your shirt upward and squirted a generous amount of gel on your exposed belly, the cool liquid making you shiver slightly.

“So, how many weeks are you now, Y/N?” Dr. Cho asked, her eyes focused on the screen. The doctor wants to make sure you are counting and aware about your weeks and the progress of your pregnancy. Before you could reply Natasha spoke up, “21 weeks,” she said confidently, reaching out to your hand.

You weren't mad at all that Natasha answered for you. In fact, you felt a warmth spreading through your chest at her words. She had been keeping track, even though all this time you had pushed her away. The realization shocked you—her dedication and care for you hadn't wavered, despite your coldness, despite your not making it easy on her.

“Good, it's good you're keeping up with Y/N's pregnancy,” Dr. Cho said, nodding approvingly.

“Of course.”

“Let's see if your little one wants to cooperate today,” Dr. Cho said, moving the transducer around your belly. She pointed at the screen. “Alright, there's the head, and that's the spine. Those are the limbs... Ah, now we can see the profile. And…”

Natasha's eyes were fixed on the screen, taking in every word Dr. Cho said—she tried. Suddenly, her gaze flickered down your belly seeing the scar she was very familiar with, and for a moment, she was transported back to that dreadful day. You were pale, unconscious and the doctor beside you was not Dr. Cho.

“Romanoff, your baby is healthy and developing just like it should. All the organs, muscles, limbs and bones are in place.”

Her body stiffened, and without a thought, she snatched her hand away from yours, breaking the connection she has been trying to fix for months. Her breath hitched, and she blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the sudden, unwanted memory. The room fell silent and Dr. Cho paused, looking concerned.

“Natasha?” you called out for her. Already missing the warmth of her hand to yours.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Natasha muttered, apologizing over and over. She stepped backwards and that's when your heart dropped, you didn't want to see her backing up. Not now, you were rebuilding what you both lost.

“Natasha, what’s wrong? Come back here.” You asked worriedly as you tried to sit up.

She shook her head, swallowing a lump on her throat, “Sorry, I’m…sorry.”

“Natasha!” you bawled, trying to heave yourself out of bed as the redhead turned and fled the medbay. You screamed her name again, your heart racing, but she didn't come back. Dr. Cho rushed to catch you, fearing you’d fall.

Defeated, you crumpled back onto the bed, tears spilling over. You clutched at Dr. Cho, burying your face in her scrubs.

“She left again...she promised she’d stay…”

Eventually, Dr. Cho and Bruce managed to calm you down enough to return you to your room. Wanda immediately rushed to the medbay when she heard about you, and once again you heard her cursing your girlfriend’s name as she walked you to your room.

“I am going to kill her, I swear.”

Your bestfriend insisted on staying with you but you wanted to be alone.

And here you are, alone once more, curled up on your shared bed, staring blankly at the wall. You refused to continue the check-up without Natasha by your side. Without her, everything felt pointless.

Hours more passed, and you remained unmoved on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. You'd barely blinked, save for the occasional tear that would slide down your cheek. The pain in your chest grew sharper, intensifying with each passing moment. You hugged your belly protectively, as if shielding the baby from the emotional turmoil.

“She should be here…mommy should be here…” you murmured, tears sliding down your cheeks. You felt abandoned, alone.

“Mommy will never leave us, she promised.”

⧗

Natasha finally returned, her hands shaking as she opened the door to your shared room. She froze when she found you on the bed, looking so small and vulnerable. She didn't want to look at you anymore, because all she could feel was guilt so she immediately made her way to the bathroom.

“Are you drunk?” you asked plainly, making the redhead stop in her tracks. She breathed as she turned, she couldn't respond, her voice stuck in her throat as she saw you sit up on the bed. The room was dark, but her eyes adjusted enough to see your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes.

You could smell the alcohol on her from across the room, the acrid scent burning your nostrils. It mingled with the lingering perfume she always wore, creating a sickening combination.

“You left me there alone, you know that right?” you said, your voice cracking with emotion. “Not just me, but our baby. You left us there, I called for you but you didn’t even look back.”

Natasha’s face paled as you spoke, her eyes welling up with tears. “I-I’m so sorry,” she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to... I didn’t think... I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I just…”

You watched her breathe hard, her chest heaving with sobs as she paced back and forth across the room. She trembled as she brushed her hairs out her face, she then buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with quiet, desperate tears. She was a mess, her usually composed self crumbling before your eyes.

“I feel like... I feel like I have no right to be like this,” Natasha finally spoke, her voice hoarse from crying. “But I paid for it, Y/N. What I did to you, I paid for it. Every night... every night, I always dream of losing you.”

Seeing her in such a state, you couldn't just stand there anymore. You moved towards the bed, your body tensing as you tried to stand straight despite the baby bump.

“I…I saw you there, you were laying in bed. At…at first I thought you were dead,” Natasha looked up at you with red, swollen eyes, her face contorting with fresh grief as she relived the memory.

“He...he threatened to kill you,” Natasha continued, “In front of me. He would wave the knife in front of me, he would laugh and then he would get mad, saying that if I dare to move an inch, he would do bad things to you.”

“And every night, Y/N, every night, I would dream about that. I would dream about not being able to save you…a knife on your…”

You immediately rushed to her and you both ended up on the ground, you gently pulling Natasha into a tight embrace. Her head rested on your shoulder as she continued to cry, her body shaking against yours.

“B-but I killed him, baby. I did, you’re safe now. Our baby…we…we are safe…you are safe…” she pulled you closer to her, “I killed him, I killed him…no one will ever hurt you anymore, I killed him. You’re safe.”

Feeling her cling to you desperately, her words coming out in a panicked, disjointed rush, she was still trapped in that nightmare and you didn’t know. You pulled her even closer, wrapping her in a protective embrace.

“Natasha I am here, baby’s here.” Gently, you pulled away. You took her hand and placed it on your swollen belly.

“Feel me, I’m here.”

“I need to feel you, Y/N. I need to feel you, all of you.”

Understanding her unspoken request, you captured her lips with yours, you poured all of your love and reassurance into the kiss. Your tongue delved into her mouth, tangling with hers as you deepened the kiss, wanting to chase away the last vestiges of her nightmare and replace them with the comfort of your presence.

Natasha stood guiding you both to your feet. She led you backward toward the bed, still not letting go of your lips.

In the blink of an eye, your clothes vanished, leaving your naked bodies pressed together, skin against skin. The sudden lack of barriers between you sent a shiver of desire through you both. Natasha's breasts flattened against your chest as she leaned down, her lips finding yours once more in a searing kiss.

As Natasha settled between your thighs, you could feel her hardness pressed against your lower belly, hot and heavy. The sensation sent a thrill through you, and you wrapped your legs around her waist, pulling her even closer.

“Natasha…feel me…”

Her fingers gently caressing your folds, finding you already wet and ready. She coated her length with your slickness, positioning herself at your entrance. She looked into your eyes, her own filled with raw, unbridled desire.

With a slow, gentle thrust, Natasha entered you, her eyes locked onto yours. She was so gentle, so tender, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“My angel,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion.

Natasha began to move, her hips rolling in a slow, sensual rhythm. Each thrust was careful and measured, allowing you to adjust to her size. She peppered your face with soft kisses as she made love to you, murmuring sweet words of devotion. “My love, my heart, my everything…”

You wrapped your legs tightly around her waist, pulling her even deeper. The new angle made her touch that spot inside you that drove you wild.

“N-Natasha…” you moaned, your fingers digging into her back as you clung to her.

She could feel all of you now—your heat, your wetness, your pulsating walls, the warmth of your skin and your beating heart, “Oh, Y/N…” she breathed, her body trembling as she held herself deep.

With a final, powerful thrust, Natasha buried her face in your neck and shattered. Her hot seed spilled into you, her whole body convulsing with the force of her release. You clung to her, your own completion washing over you like a wave as you called out her name. “N-Natasha...Natasha…”

You gently unwrapped your legs from around her waist and brought your hands up to hold her face, your thumbs brushing away the tears that had escaped her eyes.

“Forgive yourself, Natasha…”

She shook her head violently, “N-no…you’re here!”

But none of it had been real.

Natasha looked around the room, there was never a grocery, her eyes taking in the clothes strewn across the floor, some still bearing the scent of you that she couldn't bear to wash away especially the strawberry products she reminded of you. Your pregnancy tests, empty bottles and wrappers littered the nightstand, evidence of her neglect of herself. And the lifeless bunch of flowers Clint had given her months ago that was for your funeral. The wilted, dried-out blooms lay scattered on the floor, petals falling like tears, a harsh reminder of reality.

You would always tell Natasha how you liked Thor's hair and Thor, had vanished from Earth and hasn't come back yet since your death. Morgan had stopped playing salon because she would only play it with you.

Your bestfriend, Wanda, had to moved out, her powers were growing unstable and you are the only one who could calm her down. Also, the threat of harming your girlfriend had forced her to leave.

She never had to deal with your mood swings or food cravings, because all she had to deal with is that fact that she wasn't really able to save you and now you are gone forever.

Tears spilled down Natasha's cheeks as she stared at the pregnancy result she had found after the funeral, the cruel irony of it all crashing down on her. She hadn't just failed to save you, but also the innocent life growing inside you. The knife that took your life had also claimed the tiny, fragile being you both had created with love.

The ghostly visions, the heart-wrenching conversations, the passionate embraces...they were all figments of her grief-stricken mind. A desperate attempt to cope with the reality of your loss.

“I was here. You need to let me go, you need to let us go.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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thewidowsledger · 4 months ago

Text

Looking Out For Three

Pairing: Avenger Natasha Romanoff x Agent Female Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Tags | Warnings: +18, Natasha has a penis (no smut though yet), pregnant reader, kinda gruesome details of organ taking/trafficking, self-destruction if you squint, angst, bad writing

Author's Note: This is a scheduled post; I just recently lost my cousin so I may not be able to be active here for some time but I’ll for sure check in once in a while. Happy reading! I hope you're all having a good time.

MINI SERIES: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

⧗

Natasha's eyes fell upon the woman's lower abdomen. Her stomach is slashed open, and the crimson depths reveal that something has been taken from within…

A baby, she could tell that it was a baby as the skin on the stomach of the woman was slightly stretched out and the umbilical cord splayed out on the bed.

A life that had just begun, now cruelly snuffed out.

Two lives cruelly snuffed out.

⧗

After Natasha had taken care of Strange, her focus immediately returned to you. Seeing your unconscious form, her heart broke as she frantically searched for something to cover your exposed stomach.

She found a blanket and tore it into a small piece and she gently draped it over your stomach, her hands trembling, staring at your wounded stomach. Tears streamed down her face as she looked at you, whispering words of apology.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured, her voice choking with emotion. “I should've listened to you last night, if I knew you wouldn’t…you wouldn't…” Natasha gasped for air but still trying to hold back a sob, she finally looked at your face. She held your hands and pecked a kiss all over it.

“I could've lost you, detka. I can't let that happen…I’ll never forgive myself if I lost you.”

“Everything's going to be okay. You, me, and our baby,” she smiled at the thought, wiping some tears on her face, “We're going to be a happy family.”

Tony landed with a heavy thud, the suit's thrusters kicking up a cloud of dirt and debris. Bucky quickly joined him, eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. A doctor's body lying on the floor, unrecognizable as its face has a lot of holes in it.

He started to move towards you and Natasha, but Natasha's steely glare made him stop in his tracks.

Yelena tried to approach her sister and offered her help but Natasha ignored her as well. The expression on her face was cold and distant, her only priority was getting you to safety. She carried you in a bridal style and the rest of the team watched, unsure of what to do, as Natasha carried out of the room and started heading onto the Quinjet.

⧗

Steve and Tony spoke quietly to each other, trying to make sense of the situation. Tony couldn't provide any concrete answers, but he did share one unsettling detail. He projected a hologram display, showing the scans of the doctor's body. The bullet holes were highlighted in red, showing exactly where each of the 21 shots had landed. The lone bullet in the shoulder was also indicated by a separate red mark.

“Here,” he said, pointing to the tiny screen. “21 bullets to the head and one in the shoulder.”

The team winced as they took in the information, their gazes shifting to Natasha, who was still holding your hand in her lips.

Tony shrugged, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Hey, I'm not judging,” he said. “I've done my fair share of blasting people in the head too.”

The team started to look your way, their gazes shifting towards your unconscious body and Natasha, but then they quickly averted them when they saw Natasha glaring at them. They scrambled to look busy, trying to avoid her disapproving glare.

In an attempt to look as if they weren't just staring at your unconscious body and Natasha sitting close to you, Sam awkwardly broke the silence by pointing at the glassed windows of the Quinjet, “Wow, a bird.”

His words hung awkwardly in the air, only to be met with Natasha's continued glare and the team's collective facepalm at his failed attempt to diffuse the tension.

⧗

When the Quinjet landed on the compound, the team immediately got up and was welcomed by Clint as the door of the Quinjet slowly opened. He already knew what happened and he was on leave since Laura just gave birth to their third child.

He walked towards the bed where your unconscious body was laying.

“Hey Nat.”

She didn't answer, but as soon as Clint touched the bed to help her get you out the Quinjet Natasha swiftly pulled a gun and pointed it towards his head.

“Nat…” Clint called, the team became frozen in place at the sight.

“Don't touch her.” She said her voice was hoarse and shaky.

“Yes, I'm not touching her. I am touching the bed,” he offered a logical argument, his tone gentle as he tried to diffuse the situation. He immediately but slowly moved his hands away from the stretcher you were in and put them in the air where Natasha could see.

The room's tension rose even more as the team started calling her out.

“Romanoff.” Tony called in a warning.

“Natasha.” It sounded more authoritative coming from Maria.

“Natasha, calm down.” Steve’s voice joined the fray, calling out gently.

“Back down! No one gets to touch her!” Natasha furiously exclaimed.

Natasha's grip on her gun tightened further, she pushed the tip of the gun on the back of Clint’s head, her eyes beginning to well up with tears.

A ripple of tension ran through the group everytime Natasha spoke. The atmosphere in the room immediately grew heavy, and the team members instinctively also tightened their grip on their own weapons.

“No one’s gonna hurt Y/N, Nat…please.” Clint reassured pleadingly.

“Shut the fuck up!”

And with that a loud thud echoed through the Quinjet with Natasha’s unconscious body laying on the floor. Yelena, her sister sulking at the corner with her hands clenched into fists pointed towards where Natasha was and her widow's bite smoking.

“Izvini, sestra.” (Sorry, sister)

⧗

Dr. Cho launched into her report, clearly concerned about the oversight. Wanda, Steve and Bruce were in the medbay with you.

“So no one noticed the bleeding on her head?” the doctor repeated incredulously. The room fell silent for a moment, and then Steve spoke up.

“Natasha wouldn’t let us near her.”

“Yeah,” Bruce confirmed, “She came before the team, I prepped the stretcher and she immediately snatched it away from me, not even letting me help her.”

Wanda clenched her jaw in frustration, her eyes narrowing as she listened to the two about what happened. She couldn't help but feel annoyed and frustrated with Natasha's behavior, which had led to your current situation. If Natasha had just been a little more cooperative and let the team help her help you, you would've been fine and awake by now. Instead, you were lying unconscious in the medbay, not sure when you're going to wake up.

“And no one knew that she's pregnant?” Dr. Cho added that made the three wince in guilt, how could they not notice? You live in the same place for god's sake, in the same compound.

Wanda was particularly hard on herself, her face filled with guilt. She’s your best friend and you two had spent so much time together, she felt ashamed that she didn’t notice anything different about you, especially since the two of you are inseparable when Natasha was away for 2 months.

You always had a morning walk together, gets to shop together, you two always watched sitcoms together and trained together. Wanda could only remember a moment when she had accidentally hit you in the abdomen during combat training, and you had collapsed on the floor laughing at the witch. You were for sure pregnant at that time and Wanda could only wince at the memory hoping that hit didn't affect her growing niece at your stomach

And the fact that she covered up for you made her want to let the ground eat her, what if she just let JARVIS figure out that it was you who was pregnant? This wouldn't have happened to you…

“Don't worry, Y/N is stable" the doctor said reassuringly, “and she should wake up at any moment. However, we can't say for sure when that will be.”

She looked around the room, meeting the worried gazes of the team members who's nodding at her words.

“I’ll get her an ultrasound later which should give us more accurate information. For now let's give her body a break. And I need Romanoff here as soon as possible.”

⧗

Natasha tossed and turned in her sleep, distress written all over her face. She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat at the bed, she took the place in where she was; it was your shared bedroom. She can feel her brain pounding inside her skull but still, she immediately got off the bed as the first thing she thought was you, she found herself frantically walking down a dimly lit hallway, approaching a closed door at its end.

As she neared the closed door, she noticed a soft glow and a bed with a woman laid out on it, bathed in a dim light. The sight invoked a pang of uneasiness in her, but she couldn’t shake the compulsion to get closer.

Natasha continued walking, drawn to the woman on the bed like a magnet. Each step seemed to echo loudly in the silent hallway, but she pushed onward until she was near the bed.

With a heavy heart, Natasha makes her way to the bedside of a woman who lies there lifeless and unseeing. Her eyes, hollow sockets staring into nothingness…

Her eyes scanned the woman's body, taking in every detail of the horror.

The ribcage splayed open like a grotesque butterfly…

The heart and lungs are missing, leaving a gaping hole…

Natasha's eyes fell upon the woman's lower abdomen. Her stomach is slashed open, and the crimson depths reveal that something has been taken from within…

A baby, she could tell that it was a baby as the skin on the stomach of the woman was slightly stretched out and the umbilical cord splayed out on the bed.

A life that had just begun, now cruelly snuffed out.

Two lives cruelly snuffed out.

The redhead's gaze lingers on the woman's lifeless hand, before her eyes widen in horror. She recognizes that hand, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she starts to panic.

Her heart pounds in her chest as she spots a manila folder beside the bed, within her grasp. With trembling hands, she snatches it up and flips it open, gasping as she scrolls through the contents.

“Y/N Y/L/N”

Natasha gasped in horror, she flips open the file, page after page of personal information and photographs spill out of the folder, painting a detailed portrait of your face and body. Each page she turns reveals more information about you, and with each turn, her heart drops further into the pit of her stomach.

This body that is lying in front of her with no eyes, ribcage splayed open, heart and lungs missing, stomach slashed open and a baby taken out of it…

Is your body and your child. Her child.

“No…”

“No, no, no,” she gasped, “Fuck no!” She threw the folder away and your body was already gone in the bed.

She immediately shot her head around when she heard a faint cry of a baby, but as soon as she turned she saw a shadow of a woman carrying a baby.

She knows it was you only by its figure…

Your voice reached her ears, filled with desperation as you called out to her.

“Natty, love? Can we talk?”

“Help us, Natasha.”

“Natasha, please talk to me.”

“Natasha!”

“Natasha! Wake up!”

“No!”

Natasha jolted awake, the loud call of her name immediately took her away from the depths of her dream. She panicked as she found herself surrounded by the darkness of your shared bedroom. Clint was holding her and she immediately ripped herself away from him, her movements sharp and agitated.

“Hey,” Clint's voice was gentle, a calming presence amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “Natasha, breathe,” he urged, his hand reaching out to rest on her shoulder but Natasha flinched, “You’re okay, everything is fine.”

“Where's Y/N?” Natasha demanded, her voice husky and rushed as she moved away from the bed ignoring her best friend's concern for her because clearly, nothing is fine.

“Nat,” Clint circled the bed to get to Natasha and she immediately got into defensive form.

“Are we really gonna do this again?” He asked, his hands raised in a placating gesture. And that's when the memories came rushing back, flooding her senses with a torrent of emotions. She remembered the weight of her gun in her hand, the cold metal pressed against the back of her best friend's head and the team trying to calm her down. The last thing she saw was your stretcher above her.

Natasha's breath hitched as the memories overwhelmed her, and she felt her legs buckle under her. She reached out to grab onto the bed, her legs weak and unsteady. She had come dangerously close to losing it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

Natasha's voice shook as she apologized over and over again, her eyes filling with tears as she felt the weight of her emotions bearing down on her. She felt Clint's arms wrap around her once more, pulling her into a gentle embrace.

He tightened his grip on her, feeling the tremor that ran through her body. “Shh,” he whispered, rubbing small circles on her back with his hand. “It’s okay. You're fine, Nat. You're safe here.”

Natasha nodded, taking a deep shuddering breath as she tried to collect herself. “Where's Y/N?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Clint, where is she? I need to see her.” Her eyes pleaded with him, searching for answers.

Clint could see the desperation in her gaze and knew exactly what she needed, you.

“You'll see her alright?” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “But right now I need you to rest.”

Natasha was about to refuse, she needs to see you now, but she knew better than to fight with her best friend. She needed to rest, to get her strength back before she gets to see you again. She nodded weakly, allowing Clint to help her up.

“You shower, get some fresh clothes and I’ll have some food over. After that you can see your girlfriend.”

⧗

Natasha worked diligently, her eyes alight with a soft and caring glow as she arranged everything on the bed. She had brought out all of your favorite blankets, each one softer and more comforting than the last. Her eyes landed on the strawberry plush, and her lips curved into a soft smile. She remembered how you had squealed with delight when she had won it for you at the basketball booth at a carnival.

“Hey Nat, you ready to go? Dr. Cho is waiting for you.”

Natasha startled at the sudden interruption, blinking as she tried to shake off her thoughts. “Oh, uh, yeah,” she said, her voice a little softer than usual. “Did she ask me to bring something? Does she want anything? Food? How's Y/N?” Natasha continuously asked as she put the blanket and pillow on a bag.

But Clint only muttered, “C’mon,” not wanting to break the news himself to her best friend. He’ll let Dr. Cho do the job on answering that.

Natasha felt her heart beat faster with each step as she and Clint made their way to the Medbay. She could feel her hands trembling, but she clenched them into fists at her sides, trying to keep her composure. As soon as she entered the medbay, she saw Dr. Cho and Wanda by your bedside. Her eyes immediately went to your unconscious form on the bed, her worry deepening. Why aren't you awake yet?

She felt Wanda's intense gaze on her and Natasha immediately put her face away from her direction, gripping the bag she brought. She couldn't shake off the feeling of discomfort of the witch’s presence.

Dr. Cho, as if reading the room, asked Wanda and Clint to give them privacy.

When the two left the medbay, Natasha finally allowed herself to breathe. The witch's intense gaze had made her uneasy, adding to her worry about you. She let out a long sigh of relief as the doors closed behind them, leaving her alone with Dr. Cho.

“How are you feeling, Romanoff?” Dr. Cho started.

“I’m fine. How is she?” Natasha immediately asked as she put the bag down at the side table of your bed.

Natasha's eyes lingered on your unconscious form, she carefully held your hands and a sudden flash of her dream returned to her mind.

Your body lying in front of her with no eyes, ribcage splayed open, heart and lungs missing, stomach slashed open and your baby taken out of it…

She immediately shut her eyes to remove the thought in her head, the urgency she felt in the dream now mirrored in the real world.

“Romanoff.”

Natasha's gaze snapped to Dr. Cho at the sound of her name, quickly trying to mask her panic with a cool, calm expression. She took a deep breath, her voice coming out steady and collected, “Yeah? H-how is she?” she asked once again.

“Y/N suffered a blow to the head, causing significant trauma. There's no way to predict when she'll regain consciousness...”

Natasha's brow pinched at Dr. Cho's words. The idea of you being unconscious, possibly for an extended period of time, weighed heavily on her. She searched for more information, “Are you saying she's in a coma?”

“A light one.” The doctor pointed out, correcting her.

“And the baby?”

Natasha's gaze shifted from your face and to the printed ultrasound image Dr. Cho handed her, she shakily reached out to get it and her other hand never leaving yours. Her features softened as she took in the small, blurred figure on the paper. “So that's our little one?” she murmurs, a touch of awe in her voice.

Dr. Cho nodded, smiling gently at Natasha's reaction. “Yes, that is your baby at 12 weeks. As you can see, the limbs are well-formed and the baby's major organs have started to develop…”

“Oh look at that! That's your baby Romanoff!”

“Romanoff, your baby is healthy and developing just like it should. All the organs, muscles, limbs and bones are in place.”

Natasha winced as Dr. Cho pointed out the tiny head, spine, and other features of the developing fetus to her, explaining that these details were visible at this stage of pregnancy. Natasha tries her best to listen attentively, but the memories are trying to get back in her head.

“Did you know she was pregnant?”

“You didn't know until now did you?”

“Oh, that's a shame.”

“You are a bad mother.”

“Romanoff, are you sure you're alright?” Dr. Cho asked, worry written all over her face as she noticed Natasha drifting off once again.

“Yeah,” she answered dismissively, “There's uhm uhh…a cut on her stomach—”

“It's all patched up now.” The doctor said reassuringly, not letting her finish.

“Can I uhm…can I have some time with Y/N alone?”

“Of course, whatever you need. I’ll leave you two now.” Dr. Cho tapped Natasha's shoulder for comfort as she retreated to the medbay.

Natasha swallowed thickly, her throat constricting as she finally, finally felt like she could breathe freely. It was just the two of you now and that's what she needed. The machines beeping in the background seemed to fade into the distance as Natasha's gaze locked onto your unconscious form.

She was acutely aware of the soft rise and fall of your chest as you slept, the gentle curve of your belly where your little bean settled.

“Detka, I need you to wake up now…” she said as she gently removed the blanket you had and replaced it with the ones she brought, which is your favorite one. She now pulled the strawberry plush and laid it beside your pillow.

“I need you to wake up so I can make it up to you.” Natasha gently brushed a strand of hair from your forehead.

A single tear slipped down her cheek as Natasha brought your hands to her lips, pressing a tender kiss before resting it gently on her cheek. She closed her eyes, taking in the warmth of your skin against hers before falling into slumber.

⧗

You slowly blinked your eyes open, your senses still groggy from whatever they put or injected in your body. Your left hand was wrapped around by a figure, holding it close as they slept sitting up right next to you on the bed.

Your right hand snatched the nasal cannula out of your nose and the IV lines that are connected to your forearm. Slowly, you pulled your left hand out of the tight hold of the figure sleeping beside your bed. You started to breathe hard, finding some support for you to stand up.

Natasha's eyes snapped open as she felt the bed movements and the warm hand she's holding is now out of her grasp.

“Baby? Hey…”

She felt alarmed hearing the machine beeping continuously and the oxygen out of you. You snatched everything that is connected to your body and now slowly moving away from the bed.

“Detka,” she called again, holding her hands out even though it's your back facing her.

But you didn't hear, there’s this loud thumping in your ears, you can feel as if someone is hammering your head, and the only thing you can see is a blur. Nothing is clear and you’re feeling numb.

You continued to move until your feet felt the cold tiled floor and that's when you lost consciousness for a second. You can only feel a warm body catching you, you locked eyes with the emerald ones before you feel your body taken out from her embrace.

⧗

Natasha paced back and forth outside the medbay, her mind racing as she waited for word about you. She was still reeling from the events that had led to this moment, and she couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that had settled into her bones.

“You deserve it.” Wanda’s words cutting through the air like a knife. “You're the reason why she's there.”

“Whatever is happening to you right now, you deserve it.” She spat, Natasha now sat outside the medbay, her hands over her head as she faced the floor. “I am one blink away from invading your mind, to see what happened but I respect Y/N so much. You deserve everything that you feel right now, every guilt and shame. You deserve what's happening to you but my best friend doesn't deserve to be there!”

She could only bite her cheek, shutting her eyes as if she's not hearing the witch, but she could feel the heat of Wanda's words as they washed over her, stinging like a slap in the face.

Natasha and Wanda both turned their attention to Bruce as he stepped out of the medbay, the tension between them dissipating in an instant. Wanda took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and Natasha immediately stood, her heart thumping on her chest wanting to hear about your condition.

“How is she?” The two redheads asked in unison, Wanda can only roll her eyes.

“She's awake now.”

Wanda didn't waste a second moving inside the medbay, walking past Natasha and Bruce.

“She's stable for now,” Dr. Cho informed Natasha who was left outside the medbay, “she just disassociated when she woke up earlier.”

Natasha nodded peeking over the doctor’s shoulder to get a sight of you but she can only see Wanda sitting beside your bed.

“Hey…how are you lyubov?” Wanda asked her fingers grazing yours.

“I feel weak,” you mumbled but gave the witch a soft smile, you managed to hold her hand that made Wanda sob. “Hey, I’m fine Wanda.”

She held your hand tightly and brought it to her cheek, “You should be, you really should be.” You hummed as you wiped the tears that streamed down to her face.

Natasha stood just outside the medbay entrance, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched you and Wanda interact. Your eyes flick towards her and you can read her lips muttering, “Hey,” to you.

“I want to rest for a bit.” You said, immediately avoiding Natasha and the witch noticed the tension between you and your girlfriend.

“Sure.” Wanda was about to stand to leave when you held your hands up, “Stay, Wanda. Please.”

Natasha could read the situation clearly, you didn't want her around. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut because all she wanted to do is to hold you and pepper you with kisses, take care of you. But she did notice what you want and it's not her, so she respectfully stepped back, retreating out of the medbay. The coldness in her chest had deepened into an ache, but she pushed it down as she always did.

For now, she’ll give you what you need but she will never stop trying and making it up to you.

⧗

Dr. Cho informed Natasha that you are now discharged and can leave the medbay anytime soon.

Right now, she's supposed to be sitting right next to you, apologizing or…begging for forgiveness, peppering you with kisses or cuddling you. But instead here she is walking alone to your shared room. Natasha had held back her tears as she walked towards the room, but the moment she stepped inside, the floodgates opened. She couldn't hold back any longer. She let out a choked sob and collapsed onto the floor, burying her face in her hands.

Suddenly, Natasha surged to her feet, fists clenched at her sides. She couldn't contain her anger and frustration to herself any longer. With a roar of rage, she began to pummel the walls of the room, punching it with all her strength.

Eventually, Natasha's frenzy subsided, and she steadied herself against the wall, forehead resting against its cool surface. Natasha took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She closed her eyes and imagined herself in your embrace, feeling your arms wrapped around her, holding her down and keeping her grounded like you always do.

“You cannot be like this,” She whispered to herself. “You have a wife and a baby on the way to look up to. You cannot…you cannot be like this.” She repeated, as if trying to drill the words into her own brain.

Natasha slowly turned back, surveying the room with keen and puffy eyes. Without hesitation, she removed her jacket and top revealing her gray sports bra and started deep cleaning everything. Something that will occupy her for a while besides she doesn't want you to come back here with a messy and dirty room, though you always make sure that your shared bedroom is clean, both of you have tasks on what to do, on who's gonna do this or that, clean this or that. Actually it's you who gave her tasks, Natasha can be careless and a messy person at times but with you, it all changed.

Natasha started to take off the cover of the pillows and replaced them with fresh, clean ones from the closet. She then moved onto the bed sheets, pulling off the used ones.

After that Natasha moved to the bathroom, checking every corner, she pulled out the trash and some stuff scattered at the counter. When she opened the cabinet she was welcomed by a pregnancy test, not just one but three tests with two lines showing in each one.

Natasha picked the three, studying each one carefully before setting it back down again at the counter. She wondered if this was the thing you wanted to talk about before the mission. She clenched her jaw remembering how she treated you that night.

A call on the door pulled Natasha out of her thoughts. She retreated from the bathroom, taking a deep breath before opening it to reveal Clint standing on the other side.

“Hey, here's the flower you asked me to get.”

Natasha smiled as she took in the sight of the beautiful bouquet that Clint had brought for you. “I know you asked me to buy roses, the pink ones which is Y/N’s favorite but I saw these chrysanthemums and carnations. I bought this for Laura when she was pregnant with our Nathaniel. You should avoid-strong smelling flowers. Y/N’s sense of smell might be a little bit sensitive now.” Natasha listened intently as she had seen how Clint handled being a father of three. How he was able to protect her family while being an Avenger so might as well take her best friend’s every advice.

“You might wanna do some research. It's gonna be a lot but I know you two can do it.” She nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Clint.”

“Mood swings, Nat,” Clint chuckled as she warned Natasha, “It's gon’ be a hell of a ride.”

“Oh yeah it is, even though she wasn't pregnant yet it was a rollercoaster already.” She smirked remembering how she handled your mood swings during the course of your relationship.

“Oh Nat, now it's gonna be a whole new level.”

After a few more words of farewell, Natasha went back inside the room, and placed the flowers gently in a vase beside your shared bed. She filled the vase with water from the bathroom sink, letting it flow over each bloom as she arranged them.

Natasha settled on the couch after putting back the vase beside the bed. She put on some headphones as she lost herself to some music. An automatic vacuum hummed quietly in the background, gliding smoothly over the floor and picking up any debris.

Natasha indeed took Clint's advice, she was reading and researching about the changes that were happening to your body and what to expect during the course of the pregnancy. You're now in your 12th week and she read that during week 12 of pregnancy you’re wrapping up your first trimester and the odds of miscarriage are highest in the first trimester.

She took notes and made a mental list of things to expect.

“Your baby is only as big as a passion fruit but is growing and developing.” Natasha read to herself.

“Baby bump’s first appearance depending on the body type, food cravings, weird food cravings,” Natasha murmured, she continued, “Dizziness, mood swings, sore breast, heightened sense of smell,” She hummed, remembering her best friend's advice about sensitivity of your smell.

Natasha did a double-take as she read the last item on the list.

“Spike in sex drive?”

A knock on the door interrupted her researching and reading and she quickly put her headphones down, turning her attention towards the entrance.

She opened the door to see you standing there, a strawberry plush in your hand, and Bruce behind you carrying the bag of blankets she brought in the medbay. Her eyes widened slightly but she quickly composed herself, her expression softening as she took in your face, “Hey.”

You took in the sight of Natasha, your mind being in a haze. She is dressed in a gray sports bra and matching sweatpants, headphones clinging on her neck. Her arms were flexed like always and you could see the details of beads of sweat on her defined abs. Your breath hitched in your throat.

Natasha, noticing your gaze on her, quickly took the bag from Bruce. You walked past her already and went inside the bedroom.

“Dr. Cho will check in on her periodically.” Bruce informed the redhead.

“Thanks, Bruce.”

You sat at the bed slowly, noticing the new sheets of the bed and the flowers, the smell of it invading your nostrils. You caress the softness of the sheet while the strawberry plush sat on your thighs.

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?” Natasha asked as she closed the door. She put the bag down where you put your dirty laundry.

“Baby?” She called again, “You know you can't avoid me forever.”

“Yeah, like you did me the other night?” you replied with a dry tone.

A heavy silence fell between the two of you and Natasha bit her lower lip in contemplation. Without hesitation, she immediately removed the headphones from her neck and walked in your direction. She gently knelt in front of you, placing the plush beside you as she took both of your hands in hers. Her bright green eyes searched for yours.

“Baby,” she began, her voice gentle and soothing. “I'm sorry.” She paused, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hands. “Please, I was out of my mind that night,” her voice is becoming shaky this time. “It was the stupidest thing I ever did,” she continued, the regret evident in her expression. She swallowed hard, squeezing your hands gently. “Please, forgive me detka? I promise it won't happen again. I’ll take care of you, cook for you, buy you gifts, whatever you want baby, just—just forgive me.”

You actually stopped listening when she said “I’m sorry” all you could focus on was her arms untensing and tensing with each movement of her hands gently gripping your own. And the smell of the flowers were now gone as your girlfriend’s cologne, which was your favorite cologne of hers, started to envelop your senses. You don't know why you're being like this.

Natasha watched as you yawned, “I'm sleepy,” you slur.

“I uhh…alright baby,” She immediately let go of your hands and stood up, hesitating for a moment. She gently guides you as you lay down to your shared bed, putting the comforter all over your body and handing you the strawberry plush.

“Sleep tight detka, I’ll be here,” to her surprise, you hummed in response as you snuggled the strawberry plush close to you, a small sound that filled the air between the two of you and it made Natasha's heart jump. She took that as a good sign and she will for sure do anything to earn your forgiveness.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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thewidowsledger · 20 days ago

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The Call

Chapter 5: Rushman

Summary: You were supposed to take her out—the infamous Black Widow—Natasha Romanoff. The S.H.I.E.L.D. has been keeping an eye on her for a while now and for some reason, another high-ranking agent as you was sent to get the mission done. But then, he made a different call leading the mission to be here in front of you, soon to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

Pairings: Ex-Russian Agent Natasha Romanoff x Senior S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: slow burn (it’s happening y’all), violence, kidnapping, torture, explicit language, hurt/comfort, 1v4, guard dog and angry angry angry Natty (strong arms Natty🥵 she is back breaking and cracking bones, kicking teeths for a living), vulnerable reader, Madisynn and Yelena's ship is sailing, Fury being a detective and keen observer dad

Author's Note: Missing my wife so here I am…writing while she's out (I hate work😡)

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

"What you think, Rushman?"

"Ask about the arms deal happening at the end of the week."

Natasha listened quietly to the instructions being relayed to her via her earpiece, her face a stoic mask. She evaluated the situation, her sharp mind calculating the security measures in place.

"Not a bad place," she remarked, her tone low and detached. "But do you guys really have the stuff necessary to secure all this square footage?"

She got a couple of looks and tried to remain calm; using 'secure' like that would definitely get her suspected of being an undercover Agent.

Realizing the slip-up in her choice of words, Natasha quickly adapted her demeanor, keeping her arms folded and tight to her sides, the picture of nonchalance. Despite her slight blunder, she maintained her composure, "I know a guy with both hands under the table," she kept her arms folded and tight to her sides. She didn't manage to sneak anything in with her weapons wise. Her fists were enough to hold their own in a battle.

One of the guides brushed off her question, stating, "Don't worry about it." He reassured her, mentioning that more support was on its way.

As they arrived in the basement control room, Natasha observed the smashed window with a furrowed brow. Her instincts kicked in, and she honed in on the details of the scene, taking note of it.

"Did we catch something?"

"You could say that." His grin gave Natasha a bad feeling.

They turned on the singular light bulb that lit the decrepit little space a small figure tied to the chair, dread welled up in Natasha. The figure tried to remain still in the chair, but the blood trickling from their limbs betrayed the restraints' unforgiving tightness.

As Natasha tried to maintain her composure, the sight of the restrained figure hit her like a wave of dread. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't ignore the familiar details—the slender frame, the slope of the shoulders, even the glimpse of the sharp collar bone protruding from the button-up shirt. The stockings were torn, probably from getting dragged to and fro. Shoes were probably the first thing taken from them.

A woman beside the restrained body was wearing her jacket, the same jacket she gave you last night.

Natasha's heart stopped.

She knew it was you before they pulled the burlap off your head.

As they pulled the burlap sack off your head, Natasha's heart sunk deeper, the sight confirming her fears. Before she could even fully register what was happening, a ruthless blow landed across your face, forcefully snapping your head to one side with a sickening crunch. The chair screeched against the concrete surface beneath as it shifted from the force of the punch.

The girl that was standing beside you came up to Natasha and touched her biceps as she circled her.

Natasha steeled her expression, knowing that she couldn't afford any display of emotion. She felt their eyes on her, watching for any crack they could exploit, checking to see if they had found the weakness they thought. If they had found their mole.

"Where'd you find her?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," the worker bees around her snickered as they watched the show. She ran her hands over Natasha's muscled arms, circled her like a predator, a smug smile playing on her lips.

Natasha clenched her fists tightly under her armpits, her nails digging into her skin with increasing pressure, leaving behind angry crescent indents. The intensity of her grip grew, mirroring the effort she exerted to maintain her composure, even as her jaw worked in a white-knuckled attempt to keep her teeth from clenching too obviously. She forced herself to remain still, the muscles in her neck straining with the effort, despite the overwhelming fear and rage that was making her vision blur.

You didn't utter a word as they laid into you, taking every slap and punch with little more than a grunt or a burst of air. You kept your eyes shut as they hauled your head up by your hair, still pulled back into a ponytail.

The realization hit Natasha that you hadn't been taken from the safety of your home. You were still dressed in the clothes from the party last night, leaving her feeling a wave of nausea as she wondered how long you had been imprisoned in this cold, dimly lit room.

Guilt gnawed at her, regret filling her like a lead weight in her chest. She should've walked you back to the party, or booked you a cab, even if you had protested, insisted that you could manage on your own.

The man gloating about finding you tightened his grip on your hair, forcefully turning your face towards him and inhaling against your cheek. His words rang in Natasha's ears, a reminder of your vulnerability. "We got a tip that there was a real pretty little thing hanging around," he said, a twisted sadistic pleasure in his tone that made Natasha's skin crawl.

"Don't move a muscle, Agent. Stay on target," the warning echoed in her earpiece, and her blood ran cold as she heard the commanding order to remain still.

Fury assigned Natasha to Coulson's division for a while after her mission on Stark. How far were they planning on letting this go? How long had they been listening to you get hurt? Do they even know that the daughter of the director is getting hurt?

The eyes in the room were still fixed on Natasha, testing her limits, pushing her for a crack in her facade. She felt the weight of their gaze. "Y'know, someone let us know that she was with SHIELD." It was clear that they were trying to push her, to see if they could expose her.

Of course someone had tipped them off. How else would they have been able to get the drop on the Furious daughter?

"Y'know what they say," another one slapped her on the shoulder before strolling into the semi-connected interrogation room. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?"

Natasha wiggled her fingers against her palm, feeling the blood he'd drawn. She felt herself reaching her breaking point, your subtle movement caught her eye, and she glanced in your direction. You pried your least swollen eye open and looked at her, managing just a little twitch of your lips. No one else would be able to recognise it as a smile—they'd sooner assume it was a flinch.

But Natasha could always tell.

You shut your eyes again as one of the men grabbed your neck, forcing you to expose the length of it, their touch sending chills down your spine. "She is a pretty thing, huh?" the man remarked, turning back to Natasha, his finger trailing along the exposed skin.

"Agent, do not move. I repeat: stand down."

Natasha watched the hand trail down your neck to your collarbone, just barely peeking out from your tight black dress. He pulled out a knife, cutting off one the black dress.

The two in the room grinned at each other as the knife trailed exposing just the hint of a white bra with floral lace. "Should we see how pretty?"

The man's eyes glinted with malicious intent as he offered Natasha the knife, a cruel smile playing at his lips. "Rushman? Would you like to do...the honors?"

Natasha hesitated, but she knew what the risks were. So after contemplating, she took the knife handle. She slowly walked towards you, her eyes flickered over your battered face, taking in the bruises, the split lip, the swollen eyes.

The impatient shouts from behind her only fueled her frustration and anger.

"Fuck her already!"

You could see the struggle in her eyes, the internal battle she was fighting. You wanted to reassure her, to let her know it is okay, but your voice was hoarse from the abuse you'd endured—and besides it would blow up her cover.

She caressed your cheek and you leaned on her touch, a tear fell down slightly nodding at her—silently telling her that it's going to be okay.

"Do it Rushman!"

"Fuck her! Like this!" A man shouted, mimicking aggressive gestures with his ring and middle finger. "Give us a fucking show!"

"I know how to give a good fuck, don't tell me how to fuck her." Natasha bit out. She knows she's damned after what she just said besides Coulson's team hearing her words.

Hearing her say that she would give the daughter of the director a good fuck.

You, her boss, hearing her say that she would fuck you.

Natasha knelt in front of you, and mouthed I'm sorry, she caressed your face one last time. "Can you close your eyes for me?" she whispered, "Please, detka."

"Don't open them unless I told you to."

Because she never wanted you to see that side she's about to unleash. It is a version of her that she had buried in the past after she was given a new life, a new chance—a fresh start. The side of her that you are very aware of because it was the side of her that you studied half of your life. The side of her that you hated.

Your mission.

She doesn't want you to see it, especially not now that she is falling in love with you.

But your life is at risk and so is the beast within her.

As soon as you shut your eyes, she turned and grabbed the first man by his head and, with a single, powerful motion, slammed his face down onto the wooden table. The force of the impact shattered the table's surface, sending splinters flying.

The girl reached into the back of her jeans, "Fuckin' mole—!"

Natasha spun on her heel, her shoulder driving into her like a human battering ram and before she could hit the ground, Natasha grabbed a handful of her greasy hair and yanked her head down, ramming her knee into her face with bone-shattering force. The sound of crunching teeth filled the room as she slumped unconscious to the floor, blood pouring from her ruined mouth.

"That is my fucking jacket." She spat out as she aggressively removed the jacket from the girl.

No one can deny that Natasha is by far the strongest on SHIELD—probably one of the strongest agents in the field, if not the strongest.

She grabbed the creepy one by the hand, "This is how you fuck," she gritted before twisting it all the way around to pop it off the wrist. The creep screamed and howled in pain.

The sudden violence in the room had you flinching with each loud impact, your heart racing. Every crack of bone, every thud of a body hitting the ground, made you jump and tremble with fear. Wishing that it's not Natasha.

Only if you know that it was Natasha who was causing those sounds.

The one who had been doing the beating on you held up his hands, backing away from you on the chair, who was still eyes closed and was close to passing out.

"Agent! Stand down, this is a direct order!"

Natasha tore the earpiece and its connected mic out of her ear and let it fall to the ground before crushing it under her foot. She kept her eyes on the man with your blood on his knuckles.

"H-Hey, Rushman," the idiot was at least smart enough to try and barter his way to safety. "Look, we both know you're not gonna kill me—"

"Says who?"

The smaller of the two men shrank a little. Maybe his life wasn't as insured as he thought it was. "O-Okay!—okay, look, I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry. You want info?! I'll tell you—I'll tell you everything! Who tipped us off, e-everything!"

Natasha grasped the bastard by his shirt, slamming him up against the wall, black in the eyes. "You've got a lot of nerve bartering with me after what you did to her—"

"Nat."

The beater hit the floor like a sack of bricks.

Your eyes were still closed but you shook your head side to side. Now you're sure Natasha is safe, and is probably the one causing these idiots to cry since you heard her voice.

"Detka…" Natasha moved in front of you, lifting your chin as gently as she could. You'd have one hell of a black eye, and your naturally sharp cheekbones were split and swollen. "You can open your eyes now."

And you did.

"Backup better be on the fucking way," Natasha growled as she get you freed. Your body naturally folded in on itself in its injured and vulnerable state. Natasha hesitated as she pulled the jacket that the girl stole from you, she doesn't want you to wear that anymore so she shirked off her leather jacket, pulling it around you and zipper it up over your exposed chest. "Or those old fucks are next."

The beater was trying to crawl to safety and Natasha slammed her heel down on his back.

The beater threw up anything that was in his stomach. Natasha leaned down, yanking his head up by the hair, as he had done with you minutes ago. "You're gonna tell us everything."

He nodded.

"You are going to cooperate with every agent you see."

He nodded again, more vigorously.

Natasha dropped the man like a ragdoll, his body hitting the floor with a dull thud. She turned her attention to the other, who was struggling to his feet, his face pale and sweaty. "And you," she said coldly, stepping closer to him.

You didn't even blink as Natasha grabbed his shoulder, then his jaw, and twisted. You watched as the man's lifeless body fell to the ground. You looked up at Natasha, "I'm going to pretend I didn't see that."

Natasha said nothing. Now you had seen that side of her. This is the Black Widow you have been craving to catch, your mission, your past mission.

Natasha nudged the man's corpse out of the way with her foot, his body falling onto its side, picking you up and sitting down in the chair for herself with you in her arms.

The sounds of your fellow agents storming the building started at the top of the building and traveled through its open, gutted remains. They would be with them soon enough.

Natasha sat and waited. Her mind raced, considering the potential consequences of her disobedience, she would be lucky to be suspended and on probation. Much more likely, they would have internal affairs investigate her for her disobedience and fire her.

But with your safety on the line, you in her arms right now—she'd face them all willingly.

She would accept any punishment they gave her—gladly. She turned her head, pressing her lips to your temple in the slim window of being alone with you.

⧗

"Easy, widow," Yelena held up her hands and took a few steps closer, walking towards your bed and to the chair of your guard dog. "Just checking if you need anything."

"I'm fine."

"Come on, Nat." Yelena pleaded, she knew that Natasha would be grappling with the tragedy, and she had heard that no one could get near you with Natasha by your side. "She's okay, right?"

"She better be," she finally let out a sigh, uncrossing her arms and turning her head halfway away from you and towards Yelena. "It's the only reason I'm here and not hunting down those bastards."

"Natasha, they're being handled by SHIELD." Yelena reassured, calming her Natasha down.

"I am not pertaining about them." Natasha murmured but the blonde was quick to pick up the pieces.

"You know, if anyone were to hear you threaten Coulson's division like that it'd be your position," Yelena warned, to which Natasha didn't even offer a shrug of acknowledgement. Yelena looked at her determined unwillingness to rest if it left you unprotected. "Okay, just...yell if you need me, okay?—either of you?"

Natasha let out another heavy sigh, "thanks, Lena."

The door closed gently as Yelena left, leaving you sleeping peacefully with your guard dog.

Natasha sat by your side, her eyes never leaving you as she contemplated what just happened. You looked so peaceful, as if you two hadn't been together the night after you were kidnapped and brutalized.

She still feels guilty.

It was true; no one had managed to come near you. Natasha had been told that Maria will be handling her questioning, even though she saved you, the daughter of the director, she cannot be saved from the by laws of SHIELD.

Natasha leaned forward, pushing some hair away from your cheek. Her finger brushed the pale—and already bruising - skin there, and you leaned into her touch in your sleep. She smiled, undeniably melted by the subconscious trust you had in her. "Come on, boss. I need you to open those eyes for me."

As if you had heard her plea, your lashes fluttered, and then your eyes opened, revealing the stunning shade she adored. She greeted you softly, her voice gentle, her eyes locked with those beautiful eyes of yours. "Hey."

"Hey," she softly repeated, beaming at you though fighting back tears, her voice a bit thicker with emotions held in check. Her hand softly ran through your hair, the affection pouring forth freely despite the professional front she usually maintained around you. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been strapped to a chair and beat up."

Natasha huffed a slight laugh, but your weak attempt at a glare—despite your exhausted condition it brought a small smirk to her lips. "Now? You're making jokes now?" she replied, her voice affectionate, her smile growing when you tried to glare.

Your smile was heavy and hazy, fighting against the pull of anesthesia. But it was there, and it was real. "You seem like you need it, agent."

Her hand still glided gently through your hair, tracing over your temple and cheek, as if trying to feel the reality, to confirm you were real and not a ghost. There was a vulnerability in her eyes, a raw emotion barely contained, "I-we need you to be okay."

"Then I'm okay."

The moment stretched, as Natasha felt the warmth of your cheek against her palm, cherishing and committing it to memory. She knew this moment was fleeting, that this vulnerability would soon fade.

"Y/N—"

"Natasha," you pressed, and she sat again, pulling your hand into her. "I know you went against orders to come and rescue me in there."

"How is that the problem?!" She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. "And not that I was ordered to stand by and watch while—"

"Focus, Natalia," As you crooned her government name, Natasha felt herself refocusing. The soft tone and the use of her true name anchoring her firmly in the present. Your reassurance settled the turmoil in her chest, the quiet command and your words grounding her, bringing her back from the edge of her worry. "You saved me. You. That's all that matters."

She exhaled slowly, some weight lifted by your words. As she leaned forward, she found your hands, interlacing her fingers with yours, "What hurts?" She asked, assessing your pain.

You gave it a test, shifting faintly under the thin hospital blankets. "Everything?"

"They should have you on stronger meds," Natasha growled, her protective instincts flaring, ready to march into the hall and demand the staff provide stronger medication. She gripped your hand gently in hers, her worry and fury evident in the tense lines of her face.

"Mm," You held her hand, shaking your head in disagreement, despite your weakness. You fought to keep her with you by your side, refusing her protective instincts. "No, just...just leave it be."

"Y/N," she whispered, sounding positively agonized about it. "I don't want you to be in pain."

"I'm fine," was the first thing out of your mouth, only to realize that it was utter bullshit as far as Natasha was concerned. You corrected yourself, "just stay. Just...just...please?"

She all but collapsed, weak in the knees at the sight of your eyes pleading with her. She nodded, helpless to do much of anything else for you. She brought your hand up to her lips, bold move, "yeah—yeah, of course, Y/N. I...I'm right here."

You closed your eyes again, evening out your own breathing as well. "If they know I'm awake they'll have you dragged out of here to question us both."

"I can just be daddy's girl and it's done. I think they're forgetting I have that power and title."

Natasha huffed, a small sign of amusement at your joke, knowing full well that you don't and would never use your title as the director's daughter to sidestep consequences. You have earned your title in SHIELD with your own efforts, own sweat and tears.

"They're not coming anywhere near you so long as I'm here."

"Natasha."

"I mean it, Y/N," she reiterated. She gave your hand another squeeze, "they have no right coming to talk to you when they're the reason you're in here. They can wait until you're released, and that's if I'm feeling generous."

You peeled your eyes open again to smile at her. "If only I could have you as protection for every time I had to talk to those—"

You cut yourself off to yawn, failing to cover your mouth, Natasha fussed with your blankets, her tone gentle and commanding. "You should go back to sleep; get all the rest you can before the questioning begins," she whispered, hoping to spare you any unnecessary strain while knowing it was futile.

Your voice was soft, the medication making your muscles feel heavy as you asked, "Can't wait." Your hazy eyes found hers, searching for reassurance. "You'll be here right?"

She smiled at you, keeping you hand firmly in hers, "I'm not going anywhere."

Meanwhile, Yelena and Madisynn peered at the door, witnessing the tender exchange between you and Natasha. Their fist bumping, "Good?" Yelena smirked.

"Good." Madisynn confirmed.

The two women jumped slightly, freezing in surprise as they turned to see your father—the director of SHIELD standing behind them, holding a bouquet of flowers and your favorite egg pie.

"So my daughter and Romanoff..."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow #natasha romanoff x you

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thewidowsledger · 1 month ago

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The Call

Chapter 4: Keep Your Eyes On The Prize | 4.2k

Pairings: Ex-Russian Agent Natasha Romanoff x Senior S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: slow burn, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, drooling for Natasha's arms, some kid slapping some sense to reader because denial is a river in Egypt!!!!!!

Author's Note: This is the fluffiest thing I ever wrote >< I dedicate this chapter for sharkie🦈 since it's their birthday!Happy Birthday, Sharkiedut!!!🥰🥙💪

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

You adjusted your earpiece, speaking into the mic.

“All teams in position,” you said, your voice calm and steady despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Your gaze flickered between the screens displaying the security feeds, watching your teams every move through their body cams.

“This happens fast, it goes smoothly,” you continued, your eyes never straying from the monitors. “You move as we practiced...no one gets hurt.” The words is an order, a firm reminder to your team to remain focused and vigilant.

“Yes, ma'am.”

You stood back, your arms folded across your chest, watching your team intently. They had gone over the plan countless times, trained and practiced relentlessly for this moment. Everything was in place, and the odds were in your favor—but you are worried.

You knew deep down that your worry was misplaced. It was entirely inappropriate for you to be feeling this way.

Yet, your eyes darted up to the corner monitor, revealing Natasha's position at the end of the hall. She was one of the few team members isolated from the others, but her strength would be crucial if they had to restrict access to the windows and stairwells.

She looked calm, focused, her hands resting on her gun. Your heart clenched, but you tried to push the worry away, telling yourself that she could handle herself.

“Hey, boss?”

You switched over to a private channel, unconcerned that it might look suspicious. “Natasha…”

“Sorry,” she replied, her voice tinged with a smile.

“No, what is it?” you asked softly—too softly, goodness.

“I uhm…” She sighed, and anyone else who would have started a conversation like this would've gotten an earful from you about how you weren't a therapist. And if they chicken out, they shouldn't be in your team in the first place, “Are you sure you're safe…over?”

You couldn't help but bite down on your lip, suppressing a smile. You were sitting in the secure location of the command center, with perfect visibility of your team. “The area's been cleared,” you stated, trying to keep your tone calm and reassuring. “We're perfectly safe.”

Natasha shifted nervously, her voice lowering to a murmur. “You're right,” she mumbled, her anxiety clear in her words. “I just...I worry.”

You knew deep down that Natasha was far too kind-hearted for this line of work, you stopped seeing her the way you did back then—when she was still your mission. You knew she was an excellent home cook, she loves peanut butter sandwich—

“What if they know where you are?” she asked, her voice tremulous.

“They don't,” you assured her with a tone as firm as you could muster. This was the first time you had to remind her to keep her focus on the task at hand and this was the first time she was on a mission with you. Though deep down, you secretly relished the sweetness that she so effortlessly radiated.

“I guess they'd be in for something else even if they did,” her chuckle echoed through the communication line, “I wouldn't wanna face down the Furious daughter.”

And you couldn't help but let out a faint laugh in response. She heard it and there was no doubt that she knew.

“Focus, Natasha.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” It sounded dangerously like flirting when she called you that. Your mind immediately flashed back to the memory of a week ago, when the two of you had found yourselves in a cramped space, playing some dangerous game for the sake of satisfying your team and co-workers’ mind about what they thought was really happening inside the 7 Minutes of Heaven.

“I can't believe I just wasted those minutes in silence when I can have this with you.”

Your mind is now drifting to dangerous places.

“Natasha,” you curse yourself silently for speaking before you could stop yourself, but your fingers dug into your palms as your heart thumped wildly against your ribcage.

“Keep your eyes on the prize,” you managed to say, reciting the line you always say to your team every mission. You couldn’t believe you would be saying this to her now, “No unnecessary risks.”

Natasha's bodycam moved as she straightened up, her voice finishing your sentence with a familiar phrase. “Get in, get out,” she echoed, her words holding a note of determination that reassured you.

“Just,” you paused, your throat tight and dry. “Come back...to me.”

Now, that wasn't a part of the script.

“Alive!” you rushed out to add on, “come back to me alive!”

A few seconds of tense silence hung in the air on her end, and suddenly, the safety of the room was doing nothing to quell the heat that was coursing through your veins.

“Count on it,” she responded, her tone suddenly far more earnest and serious than before.

You exhaled sharply, your eyes glued to her bodycam as you spoke sternly, “Romanoff, I'm serious.”

“So am I,” she responded quickly and reassuringly. “We'll be back before you know it, boss.” You returned to your anxious pacing, time ticking away too quickly for your liking. Your fingers gripped the edge of the table, your heart hammering against your chest.

“You better mean that,” you repeated, watching the team's progress through the cameras. The door opened and the smoke bombs went off, momentarily blurring Natasha's camera feed. You heard her voice crackle through the communication line.

“Y/N, I promise.”

⧗

As you checked in on the status of your team, a sense of relief washed over you. Each member was accounted for, their body cameras and comm lines crackling with the sound of their breathless but satisfied voices.

The mission unfolded as it was supposed to. The team acted with speed and confidence, and their months of training and practice paid off. Every move they made was a result of countless hours spent drilling and strategizing, and it showed in their seamless execution of the plan. When the mission was finished, the team counted their blessings that not a single member had suffered any injuries.

You began the debriefing process, going through each member of your team one by one. You spoke with them individually, discussing their performance and asking about any challenges they faced during the mission.

“How did it go out there? Any significant obstacles you encountered?”

“No major setbacks, ma'am. Everything went smoothly from my end.”

You smiled and offered your member a smile and a pat before going to the last member of your team.

“Romanoff.” You called authoritatively, chin up, your hands locked together on your back.

“Y/N…” Natasha hitched, remembering that she’s in the work setting and you both are not in private comms, “Ma'am.”

“You came back.”

“Alive, ma'am. As I promised.”

As you should, you thought in your mind.

“How’s your first on field mission?”

Natasha blinked, she looked everywhere but not you and your very observing nature noticed something about her physical actions but you chose to ignore it anyway.

“I-it was intense, ma'am.”

“Hm.”

Natasha's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as she struggled to form a coherent response. She stuttered and stumbled over her words, not knowing what to say next, but she knew she had to even if you only responded with a hum, she didn't want to lose this connection with you. She would do anything just to be connected with you in any way.

“Natasha, it's just us.” You finally broke a smile to the redhead as you watched her exhale deeply, as if letting go of some of the tension she had been holding onto. Her eyes finally met yours, and a hint of vulnerability shone through her eyes.

“Just us.” She repeated in a mutter.

Her gaze darted anxiously from your face to the wall and back again, her fingers fidgeting restlessly with the hem of her uniform. There was a brief moment of hesitation, her breath catching in her throat as she swallowed hard.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” Again, too soft Y/N, too soft.

“I was wondering,” she began, her voice surprisingly steady despite the nervousness that was evident on her face and you could see it, “If you’d like to...go with me to Mr. Stark’s party tonight? I-I was invited and yeah...”

It was not very mindful and appropriate to ask out someone after a mission, is it? And the fact that it is also your boss? How bold are you? But for Natasha it’s now or forever hold your peace.

“Oh…” you bite your lip, trying not to rip out any smile. You were shocked, you didn’t see that one coming.

Your father had told you about the party and as usual you would always go with him as plus one even though Tony also sent his separate invitation to you.

And how did she even get an invitation from Stark anyway?

“Natasha, I…” you trailed off thinking on what to say, you didn't want to hold her hopes high but you didn't want to hurt her either which is very not you by the way, “I’m sorry but I'm actually going with dad.”

“Sir Fury, yeah, I figured that one out.”

She held her head down for a brief second and you did not have to see her face for you to see her disappointment.

“Hey I’ll see you there, yeah?” you assured quickly and softly.

“Yeah,” she nodded, finally eyeing you, “I will see you.”

⧗

You felt a pang of boredom as the party came Into view, the same familiar faces of wealthy businessmen and socialites gathered around, sipping cocktails and chatting amongst themselves. You mentally prepared yourself for the same old conversations and small talk that came with these events.

As you walked, crossed your arms over your father’s. He glanced down next to you. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips before speaking.

“Is my princess seeing someone?” he asked, keeping his tone light—but clearly he was teasing.

“Pop…” you groaned.

“Sir Fury,” Banner all of a sudden came to the view, greeting you and your father, “Y/N…” He went to hug you, bringing his cheeks to yours. Then, he turned to your father, offering a firm handshake.

Your father met Bruce’s gaze, his eyes intense as they shook hands. You couldn't be sure if you were just imagining it, but it almost seemed like your father’s grip on Bruce’s hand was tightening.

Banner spoke up after exchanging formalities with your father, “I hope you enjoy the party.”

Your father’s expression remained stoic, giving no indication of any thoughts or suspicions he might have. He nodded slightly in response to Banner’s comment, but his gaze remained fixed on his face before he excused himself.

“No wonder why your princess is not seeing anyone.” You said in a sigh, facing your father. You gently placed your hands on to fix his suit, “Pop, please be easy on Banner. He’s just being nice.”

“And please, stop assuming that everyone who talks to me likes me,” you smiled as you patted his chest lightly.

“I just don't want you to get hurt again.”

You leaned in and kissed him on the cheek before reassuring him, “I won’t, pop.”

As you walked away, your father shouted, “We leave at 10!” He then winced at himself for setting a curfew on her grown up daughter, now that just proved how overprotective a father he is.

The first thing you did as you separate ways with your father was to search for a familiar flash of red hair. You weaved through the crowd, politely nodding and smiling at people you recognized, but what you didn’t know, Natasha had been watching you from the moment you entered the party. Her eyes followed your every move, taking in the way you moved through the crowd and interacted with the other guests.

As Natasha began to start walking in your direction, her path was interrupted by Tony, who approached her with a cheerful infuriating smile on his face.

“Just the woman I was looking for.”

“Not right now.”

“But you were my assistant.” He pouted disappointingly before creeping into a smirk.

“I was and that’s not your call anymore.” Natasha hissed.

Your father had actually given Natasha an undercover assignment to work for the Ironman. So well, Natasha had been working undercover for your father, secretly doing missions for him. And this was a fact that you were not aware of, and it was the reason behind why she suddenly became uneasy when you asked her about her first on-field mission, because the reality is that it was never her first on-field mission as a SHIELD agent.

So now, the chances of you seeing her with Tony had brought her to edge.

“Furious one!”

Tony’s voice boomed as he greeted you, wrapping you in a tight hug.

Natasha stood off to the side, watching the interaction with a growing sense of unease. Her cover might potentially be compromised.

Tony’s eyes rove over your outfit. “That dress fits you like a glove, doll.”

Now she had to hear the nasty comments Tony threw your way, but you seemed so used to his remarks and you simply giggled in response.

“Pepper gifted me this dress, just so you know.”

“Of course, my girlfriend has a great taste.”

Suddenly you smiled warmly at Natasha who was standing behind Tony, and he observed the exchange with keen interest. He turned his gaze back to Natasha, his smirk growing slightly wider. The pieces were falling into place, and he couldn't help but wonder how long this little secret had remained hidden.

“You know each other, doll?” Tony asked you with a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, she’s my agent.”

Meanwhile, Natasha’s heart skipped a beat at your words. She hoped that Tony wouldn’t press further, but knowing his nature, it was a slim chance.

“Oh so Rushma—I mean Romanoff is your agent?”

Tony continued to toy with the redhead, his gaze locked on hers as he slowly pushed her buttons. He knew he was getting under her skin, and he was enjoying every second of it. Tony’s taunting was calculated, and he could see the subtle shifts in Natasha’s demeanor as she tried to keep her cover intact.

But you, on the other hand, did not notice a thing.

“Yeah she is.”

“Hm, how interesting.” Tony nodded, slowly turning to look at the redhead who cannot contain her growing anxiety.

“You two know each other?”

Now it’s time for you to throw the question back.

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly as you posed the question, she felt the weight of Tony’s gaze on her, however, before Tony could respond, he was interrupted by someone calling out his name during the party, diverting his attention away from you and Natasha.

“Y/N, I have to go.” He brought you in a quick hug, “You should go see Pepper later.”

“Rushman,” he said with a smirk only for Natasha to see as he bid goodbye to the undercover agent.

You watched as Tony quickly disappeared from the crowds and you turned your attention to Natasha and gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry about Tony, he loves giving nicknames to people.” You apologized, unaware that the name was in fact her alias as undercover.

Natasha forced a polite smile in response, her mind racing. She wondered how long she would be able to keep up this façade, especially given Tony’s penchant for causing chaos.

She cleared her throat, trying to divert the conversation away from the previous tension.

“Y-you look beautiful,” she said, trying to sound casual. But as the words left her mouth, Natasha was acutely aware of the heightened tension that hung in the air. She silently cursed herself for her choice of words, knowing that it only made things more complicated than they already were.

“Oh…thanks.” You gave a slight nod, your lips curving upwards in a warm smile. “I like your jacket,” you added, referring to her black leather jacket she used to wear even in the headquarters or work. You always notice her wearing it as if it’s a part of her body.

“Thanks.”

“Do you wanna get out of here? I know a spot.”

She was stunned by the offer but she immediately nodded. Her heart thudded against her chest as she followed you to the elevator. When you mentioned that you knew a spot, she didn’t think it would be outside of Tony’s place.

Natasha watched you as you stepped out of the door of the building and shivered against the cold night air. She immediately slipped off her leather jacket and walked towards you, she draped it over your shoulders with a swift movement. Her fingers slightly brushing against the skin of your shoulders. And you were taken aback by the gesture, if you were alone you would’ve punched her right now but you know she was trailing behind you.

“Here,” she said softly, her breath hot against your skin. “You can wear this.”

“T-thanks,” you managed to stammer out, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“So where are we going?” She asked as she stood beside you watching the vehicles pass down the road.

Your eyes unintentionally wandered down her arms, drawn to the visible veins tracing the lengths of her limbs. Your throat suddenly felt dry, and a cough escaped you as you choked faintly. Heat rose to your cheeks as you hoped fervently that Natasha hadn't caught you staring at her arms.

You tried to maintain your composure, forcing a smile that came out somewhat awkward and strained. “It’s not far,” you managed to say, your voice betraying the fluster you felt. “I hope you eat shawarma.”

⧗

“So, do you come here often?”

You took a bite of the shawarma you ordered for the two of you, savoring the delicious taste before responding. “Yeah,” you said, your voice a bit muffled by the food in your mouth.

The place was a bit far from the party city of New York. It had a rustic charm, being an older restaurant in a quiet and cozy setting.

“I come here whenever I feel stressed and just want to get away from everything…but not too far away from everything if you know what I mean.” You paused for a moment, then added with a small laugh, “And, of course, when I’m craving for some good shawarma.”

You looked over at Natasha, holding out her shawarma for a moment, “How is it? Good, right?”

Your eyes lingered on the shawarma in her hand, captivated by her fingers gripping the food, before your gaze flicked back up to her face.

Natasha smiled, a small curve of her lips as she savored the taste. “Yeah, it’s good,” she agreed, taking another bite.

As you continued eating, Natasha's gaze was drawn to your face. A small amount of shawarma sauce clung to the corner of your mouth—something you'd missed when trying to wipe it away.

“Oh there's uhm…”

Natasha's hand halted in mid-air, as if she was about to reach out and help. Awkwardly, you brushed away whatever was on your face, feeling a slight flush at the almost-intimate gesture of the redhead trying to help you.

Your attention was drawn to the sight of America, a server from the restaurant, walking by. You quickly called out to her, with a smirk on your face. “Kiddo, why are you still here working? Don't you have school tomorrow?”

The moment America noticed, a bright smile lit up her face. “Y/N!” she greeted, her voice cheerful despite the late hour. In her eagerness, she rushed toward you, enveloping you in a tight hug. You found yourself briefly trapped mid-bite, the shawarma held awkwardly in one hand as you reciprocated the embrace with your free arm.

America couldn't contain her excitement, her words stumbling over each other in her haste to speak. “Y/N! I can’t believe you're here! I missed you so much! It’s been years!” she almost cried.

“I’m here now kid, how are you?”

“I’m okay. School sucks.”

As America pulled away from you, her gaze flicked to Natasha, and a look of confusion crossed her face, followed by a recall of a memory.

“Are you married now?” she blurted out, her voice filled with innocent curiosity. “Is she your—”

“No kid, I’m not and she’s not…” You immediately stopped her before she could speak miles away in front of the redhead.

“Well you told me that when you come back here you’re already married, and she’s definitely not the one you brought here back then.”

Now you cannot pick up with her…she’s miles away already.

The silence seemed to stretch between you and America, the kid still trying to comprehend the situation. And you could feel Natasha’s curious and worried gaze on you.

This is awkward.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain the complex situation. “It’s...complicated,” you began, struggling to find a way to simplify the messy details.

You hesitated, your eyes flickering to Natasha for a split second before returning to the kid. “It's just...we're not together anymore.”

“You know I am grown up now, right? You could've just told me that she cheated.” The kid blurted out without flinching.

The kid's abrupt words made you freeze for a moment, your eyes widening slightly in shock. Natasha's expression mirrored your own surprise, swallowing her shawarma slowly.

“Okay grown ass, she did cheat on me. You’re right.” You sighed in defeat, rolling your eyes on the kid who was looking at you the way your therapist did.

“Okay so how do you fee—”

“Oh no,” you cut her off, a hint of playful annoyance in your tone, “I’m not sitting through some free therapy session with you, kid.”

You observed the kid quietly, marveling at her mature demeanor. She had an old soul in a young body, possessing far more wisdom than most teens her age. It was as if her knowledge surpassed her years, an anomaly that left you both amazed and amused. Hell, she was more mature compared to grown ass adults.

The moment was interrupted by the shrill ringtone of Natasha’s phone. She sighed, her expression cooling as she glanced at the caller ID. “Excuse me, I have to take this,” she apologized, before standing up and nodding at you and America.

As soon as Natasha was out of the restaurant, America sat and faced you.

“What’s her name?”

“Natasha—”

“I like her.”

“I like her for you.” The kid corrected.

Your mind flashed back to the time you had brought your ex to this very place, you chuckled at the memory, recalling the kid's bluntness that day.

“I remember bringing my ex here once,” you mused with a bitterness in your voice. “And, if I recall correctly, you didn't exactly hide your dislike for her.”

“Mhm.”

“You straight up told me you didn’t like my ex now you like her for me?” You pointed at Natasha at the window of the shop who was standing in front of the road, still on the call.

“Mhm.” The kid's head was held up high as she looked at you, a confident expression on her face. You couldn't help but roll your eyes slightly.

“What makes you feel like you can judge the people I date and decide whether you like them for me or not, huh?” You challenged playfully.

“I wasn't looking at them, Y/N. I was looking at your eyes.” She scrunched her nose before bringing you into a tight hug again. “And I need to go.”

Now, you were left alone, speechless by the kid’s words.

It was a simple statement coming from a literal teenager, but it caused a whirlwind of emotions inside you. You sat there alone, shawarma long forgotten as you tried to make sense of how her words made you feel.

“Hey, are you okay?” Natasha asked behind you.

You took a moment to compose yourself before responding. “Yeah, I'm alright,” you replied quietly.

“Where did the kid go?”

“She, uh, just left,” you mumbled, yes the kid just left but what she said never left your mind.

“I need to run to something right now.” She paused and offered, “Would you like me to walk you back to Stark’s place or maybe drive you back home?”

You shook your head, still lost in your thoughts. “No, it's alright,” you replied, your voice soft and distracted. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

You forced your eyes to remain averted from Natasha as the kid’s words continued to echo in your mind...

“I wasn't looking at them, Y/N. I was looking at your eyes.”

“I insist, plea—”

“It’s fine, go.” You firmly interrupted Natasha's insistence.

“No—”

“Natasha…” she tried to persist, but you cut her off again by calling her by her name.

“Can I at least call you a cab?”

“Please go.” You frustratingly said in finality.

Something in your tone made Natasha pause for a moment. You didn't sound angry, but there was a certain firmness to your words that reminded her of the first time you met her at SHIELD.

She didn’t want to see that authoritative, closed-off version of you again. She sensed the distance you were trying to keep, and it made her hesitate to press further.

“Okay…please take care. Thank you for tonight.” Without another word, she left.

Slowly, you attempted to catch a glimpse of the departing redhead but she was already gone. You gripped her leather jacket that was still clinging on your shoulders, the space where Natasha had just been sitting was now vacant, leaving you behind with her lingering presence and with the thoughts that was caused by the kid.

How do I look at her?

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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thewidowsledger · 2 months ago

Text

Secrets Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 14: Last Piece | 4.5k

Summary: You are a club dancer; a stripper. Natasha is a respected notorious mob boss. What would happen if your paths happened to cross one night? The only thing you knew about each other was your dreams, and neither of you knew what the other was.

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: 18+, bad writing, dark themes, arson, torture (kinda waterbloating) Natasha almost killing Yelena with a piece of cloth and water, thoughts of suicide, implied sexual abuse, Natasha being a child of r4p3 (I’m really sorry)

Author's Note: BEWARE OF THE WARNINGS‼️I feel like I wasn't able to write everything in this chapter because I wrote this in a rush and since I will be gone for another week or 2 or worst a month, I decided to post this now. I also have received all the requests and tiger cub 🐅 I will surely write the one you requested :3 it will be the first fic I will post as soon as I get back.

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

Yelena found herself lying in her safehouse, the familiar surroundings a small comfort amidst the pain coursing through her body. When she tried to move her left wrist was restrained, handcuffed to the bed. Despite the situation, she remained calm, she's trained for this—these things are like simple activities to her. She tried to reach out for the side table, to look for something she can use to free herself but the table was gone.

“Fuck, that was the first thing I bought with my own money.”

A sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor echoed in the silence while the blonde struggled in her own bed, when she shot her head forward she saw a figure loom over.

“Natasha…” she called out in a warning. Even if she hasn't seen who it is, she knew it was her sister.

Of course she knew she’ll come after her.

“Hope you don't mind me paying a visit,” Natasha said as she sat down on the chair she had dragged. The harsh sound of the metal against the ground only added to the tension in the room. The blonde always made a visit to her place without her knowing it so why wouldn't she do the same?

“I’m sorry.”

“Where is she?”

“Natasha, please…”

“Don't beg, yet.”

Yelena winced slightly as she shifted her body, but she managed to sit upright, her back resting against the wall. The coldness of the stone wall sent a chill down her spine, but it provided the support she needed. The handcuff kept her left wrist in place on the bed, limiting her movement.

“Where's the puppy?” Yelena asked as she tried to shift the situation.

“Somewhere safe,” Natasha replied. “But the mom?” She paused, her gaze boring into Yelena's, “That's what I'm asking you.” She now stood and walked over her sister who is now scooting on the corner of her bed.

“Where is Y/N?” she asked again with a little bit of force now.

“I don't know, Natasha,” Yelena said truthfully but her sister did not seem to be satisfied with that answer. Natasha felt like her own sister was lying to her, so she left in a minute and when she got back, she was dragging a trash bag behind her.

“Woah, woah, Natasha don't!” Yelena's eyes widened as she saw her own collection of vests inside the trash bag, and her heart almost stopped when Natasha carelessly flung a lighter onto the pile in a blink.

The blonde watched in horror as the items burst into flames, the fire licking and consuming her precious collection of vests.

“I am telling you the truth!” Yelena shouted, her chest rose and fell quickly as she breathed heavily, the smell of burning fabric filled the room, the acrid aroma of the vests being consumed by flames filling her nostrils. Yelena watched as her sister walked out of the room again. A few moments later, she could hear the sound of water moving through pipes as her sister returned with a hose in hand. She breathed thinking her sister would use it for the burning clothes she just lit, but then her sister gripped her right hand and cuffed it to the side of the bed, forcing her to lie back.

“Natasha…” She tugged on the handcuffs, the metal biting on both of her wrists as she struggled to break free, but to no avail.

The redhead grabbed a towel from nearby and placed it over her sister's face, covering her completely. The fabric was thick and stifling, making it nearly impossible for Yelena to breathe.

“What the fuck! Natasha!” She shouted but the fabric made her words muffled.

Natasha then took the head of the hose and aimed it over the towel-covered face of her sister, the water already running at maximum pressure. The force of the stream pushed the towel further into Yelena's mouth and nose, the water pouring down her throat and into her lungs. Her body convulsed as she gagged and sputtered, her legs thrashing beneath her.

She desperately tried to inhale through the soaked towel. Each breath was a fight, water pouring into her mouth and nostrils, choking and burning her. Her lungs screamed for air, but all she could draw in was more water.

Yelena's face scrunched up in agony beneath the towel and a slideshow of memories flickered through her mind—the moments she shared with you, short, yet changed the trajectory of her life.

She felt guilty about how she treated you, the names she called you. She still hated you, though, she hated how your purity and warmth reminded her of her own hardened ways. She also hated how good your cookies are.

But what she hated most was that she couldn't escape the fact that you had inadvertently made her realize the truth–that deep down, her sister, Natasha who was torturing her right now, loved her more than she cared to admit

“You know, your sister loves you.”

Just as suddenly as it began, the water stopped. She managed to remove the soaked towel from her face, coughing and sputtering as she tried to clear the water from her throat. Her vision was blurry, and her body ached from the ordeal, but her mind remained focused on one thing: finding you.

The hose continued to run, soaking the pile of her vests and extinguishing the last remnants of the fire.

“Red R-room,” Yelena gasped out.

Natasha stopped her movements when she heard her sister say the two words she doesn't want to hear anymore.

“They took her, Nat. It's them.”

“And you let them,” she said coldly, “You helped them!” She now turned and pointed a finger on her sister, she then fished out the burner phone Yelena had and threw it to her making the blonde wince when it hit her stomach.

“I can handle the truth of the Red Room resurfacing after all these years, after I burnt them down,” Natasha tried to keep her tears at bay, not wanting Yelena to see her vulnerable at this point, “But you?” Her gaze locked onto her sister, she clenched her jaw and finally let the tears fall from her eyes, “My own sister? Betraying me?”

“How could you do this to me?!”

Natasha exhaled, wiping her tears as she tried to hold her anger that she thought was finally gone after she almost killed her sister with a piece of towel.

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.”

“Sestra, please.”

“Shut up!”

“I was supposed to bring her back to you!” Yelena didn't back down, she wanted her sister to know about it, about you—about how you changed her. Maybe the things Natasha saw in you that she now saw too.

“I w-was changing my mind...” The weight of her actions, of what she did to you is now eating her alive.

“Too late.”

“Natasha! You're gonna need me!” Yelena called out urgently, thrashing her cuffed hands when she saw her sister moving to walk away—this time she thinks it's for good. “I'm going to help you! I'll find Y/N!”

Yelena's pleading continued, desperate to convince her sister to give her a chance. But Natasha didn't stop, didn't turn back. With a final glance, she vanished from sight, leaving Yelena drowning in guilt and shame of her betrayal.

“I’m sorry.”

⧗

You slowly wake-up, blinking your eyes a few times as you look at the ceiling above you. Your body is numb and you can hear a faint ringing in your ears as your heart starts to race. You shut your eyes and counted up to 3 and you managed to slowly sit upright but your body trembled. You look desperately around the room and notice heavy curtains. You're about to move towards it when you hear a voice.

“That will get you nowhere.”

You freeze abruptly, you can hear the loud thud of your heart as you scan the unfamiliar room for the source of the voice. And that's when you see a woman, sitting on her own bed across the room.

“W-who ar—”

“Xialing, Xu Xialing,” she cut you off as if she was already expecting you to ask her that.

“Xialing? A-as in the pri—”

“The Princess of Ta Lo,” despite you being disoriented right now, you noticed how her tone dropped. You’ve seen her on TV, when the crown was passed down to her mother. You always dreamed of being like her and now she's in the same room as you.

The only difference is that she is a princess and you're just a stripper.

Dreams be damned but you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you desperately ask again, this time you whispered it to yourself but it didn't go unheard by the princess, “Where am I?”

She observed you, her expression remained calm as she responded with a question of her own, “What was the last thing you remember?”

And that's when it hits you, the last thing you remember was the sight of Yelena, lying motionless on the street while the small puppy she bought you licked her face.

“You brought us in so much trouble already, you’re going to pay for it.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as the memory floods your mind. You then rushed towards her and stood in front of her bed, “We’re in danger, we need to get out of here,” you informed her as you paced around, finally gaining your senses back, “I-I was kidnapped a-and…and…”

As if she heard nothing, she simply tightened the robe around her body and walked in front of you to her vanity table. She sat there, casually searching on the drawers.

You furrow your brows in disbelief as you watch her start combing her hair, “What are you doing?” You asked and you weren't able to contain your frustration as your voice came out louder than you intended—even if you knew that you were talking to a royalty.

As you watch her continue to brush her hair, a sudden realization hits you. You had assumed the worst for yourself, but what about her? Has she been here for a long time now? Was she also taken captive? How can she be so calm?

You looked at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair, your voice cracking as you ask, “W-were you taken too?”

She huffed, “We all are,” she then fixed her robe, and then there, you saw a glimpse of a scar on her shoulder similar to yours, “Even the only heir to the throne cannot be shielded away from danger.” She met your gaze on the mirror before she placed the comb back to its place.

“No one can escape the Red Room.”

“W-what are you saying,” you asked in a shaky voice, “w-what Red Room?”

“What's your story?” She asked, answering your question with a question once again. “Girls here have different stories,” you watched her in the mirror as she put some moisturizer on her face, “there's this spoiled daughter of a corrupt mayor in Europe, her room is across ours. She's one of the favorites, not the one to be messed with. Then there's the wife of the president of Latveria…” She trailed off as she noted every woman that was taken by god who knows what room.

“There's also this one student of Kamar-Taj, only few can enroll in that prestigious school. Very strict and they don't let the students out, they can only have visitors once in 2 months,” she shook her head sideways and chuckled lightly to herself, “but it's the Red Room, so…they still got her.”

She twisted the cap back onto her moisturizer bottle and then turned to face you as she sat on the edge of her vanity table, her arms crossing and eyeing you with anticipation.

“So what about you? What's your story?”

These were women from powerful backgrounds, high-class families, sent to prestigious schools—probably filthy rich. They’re literally elites, royalties, lived in mansions and had influential families, parents, husbands, partners, connections. And you? Hell, you have no one. You survived on scraps and you swallow filthy comments for a living, how can't you? You're just a lowly stripper who accidentally got saved by a mob by sheer luck.

So you remained silent, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat together with the shame you feel right now. The princess noticed it, though, but she didn't pry further.

“What's your name?”

“Y/N...”

She then moved closer to her bed and dipped herself on the soft sheets. She spoke again, “You were the last piece, Y/N,” she said and that made you furrow your brows more, this time not to hold your tears back but in confusion as you struggled to process what she just said.

Last piece?

“They had a hard time finding you, so whoever was protecting you must be powerful.”

“Not powerful enough, though,” she added that made you hitch your breath as you saw flashes of Natasha’s image before your eyes.

“But that makes us all the same, no matter how powerful we are, they still found us.” She then tucked herself in, signaling the end of the conversation.

You fixated on the princess beneath her duvet, your mind filled with horror with everything she just told you, what bothers you more is as if she had grown accustomed to this—comfortable even.

How will you process all that? All the suppressed tears you had been holding back now streamed down your cheeks. You swiftly brought your hands to your mouth, desperately trying to muffle the sobs that threatened to erupt.

“Crying will get you nowhere, you should rest,” she advised for the last time. “In a couple of days, you’ll see real powerful people. And we’ll be paraded while they dish out millions on us like it’s a chump change.”

⧗

The Princess told you everything you need about the Red Room, it's a sinister organization. They'll take who they're ordered to take, no questions asked. They will do anything if the price is right, regardless of who asks. Each woman in this place as you were all specifically targeted and requested. It's the Red Room's specialty—fulfilling those who request abductions of women.

And what bothers you now is who would pay just to take you?

Xialing applied her lipstick, fixing herself in front of her own vanity mirror as you sat on your bed, staring at nothing.

“We're having breakfast, be aware that there will be armed guards stationed outside,” she informed you sternly. “Stay calm, refrain from any impulsive actions. Speak only when spoken to, and avoid attracting attention. And above all,” she continued, her voice firm, “Do not attempt anything stupid. Keep yourself out of trouble, don't get in anyone’s way.”

You found yourself lost in thought, staring blankly at the floor in front of you. Your eyes had become unblinking as you became lost in your own thoughts. You can feel your chest tightening as a crushing sense of hopelessness begins to take hold. You felt trapped, helpless, and your despair grew with each passing moment.

The sound of the door opening echoed through the room and two men entered, their big weapons clinging in their body. The princess stood up from her seat, her gaze fixated on them. You, however, remained seated, your eyes vacant as tears streamed down your face. It was as if you were detached from reality, no longer responding to the world around you.

The princess shot a frustrated glance back in your direction, her irritation evident. She immediately ran to your bed and shook you.

“Why do you always cry?! If you want to survive,” she hissed, “you have to pull yourself together because crying won’t help you here!”

You struggled to stand, your body heavy with despair, and the princess nearly had to drag you to your feet. As you stood, you wiped the tears from your face.

“She's fine.” The princess told the guards who seemed being impatient with the two of you.

She guided you as you walked passed them. Your eyes take in every detail of your surroundings as you both went outside the room. You silently counted the cameras that were positioned in each corner of the hall, your eyes noting the locations of each one.

Next, you focused on the guards, mentally tallying their movements and positions within their area.

As you entered the dining area, there was a long table with girls seated in chairs. Their expressions were vacant as you, as if they were under mysterious control. A guard stepped forward, he dragged you away from the princess and firmly directed you towards your assigned seat. You reminded yourself not to fight even if your body wants to.

A woman at the head of the table smirked as she looked directly at you.

“Ah, perfect, all the chairs are filled. The last piece is here.”

You remained silent, eyes fixated on the table in front of you but that didn't stop you from feeling all the attention pointing towards you. The woman then clapped, and almost on cue, guards wheeled in carts laden with food and placed them on the table. The aroma filled the air, and the sight of delicious dishes lined the table. However, you remained silent and unresponsive, still unable to bring yourself to move even a single finger.

As you sat silently, your eyes scanned the table in front of you, and something immediately caught your attention–the sight of plastic utensils getting placed at the table. Confusion filled your mind as you wondered why they would use such materials for a meal in this luxurious setting.

You’re mind now fell onto the darker part of your brain by wanting to place the fork in your neck or maybe at your chest and just end it there. And there, you realized the reason why they use plastic as utensils.

The other women at the table began to eat, but you paid them no attention. You sat silently, ignoring the food on your plate. The central woman then tilted her head in your direction, her voice cold and commanding.

“Stripper,” she called that made you pull out from your deep thought, your throat tightened but you remained fixed on the food on your plate, not daring to look at her direction or to anyone. It sounded degrading coming from her and it made you want to rip your soul apart from your body as you remember that all women in here were literally nothing like you.

You sure do really need to know your place here.

“Eat. Or I will force you to eat, and trust me, it will hurt.”

You swallowed, your throat felt dry, and you slightly glanced at the princess seated across from you. Her eyes met your gaze, and she mouthed the words “please, eat” silently to you. The look in her eyes was pleading, her concern for you visible in her expression.

You took a shaky breath and picked up the plastic fork, your fingers trembling slightly as you began to eat. The food tasted bland and unappetizing, but you forced yourself to swallow each morsel that passed your lips.

The woman at the center of the table observed you silently, her gaze fixed upon you as you ate, clearly evaluating your compliance.

She then clapped her hands once more, and with remarkable efficiency. The guards immediately began to remove the food from the table, regardless of whether you had finished it or not. The sight of each plate being taken away so quickly was slightly unnerving.

You managed to take a total of four bites before the guards removed each plate and utensils from the table. Then, the woman at the center of the table gestured to a girl at the table, “You, over there–you have a visitor. Get ready.”

The girl immediately started to cry and plead, “No, no, no, please!” But the guard advanced toward her, undeterred by her frantic pleas.

You felt a sense of helplessness wash over you as you desperately wanted to intervene, but an invisible force seemed to hold you back—as if you were tied to your chair. You looked at Xialing who quietly shook her head, signaling you not to take any rash actions that will for sure put you to a death row situation.

Unable to bear the sight and sounds of the girl’s cries, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, desperately trying to block them out. Your heart pounded heavily, and your fingernails dug into the skin of your palms as a means to distract yourself from the heartbreaking situation unfolding before you.

Once the girl had been led away, the woman at the center of the table addressed the remaining girls, “See you all at lunch.”

One guard approached each girl, gently taking hold of your arm as they guided each of you back to your rooms. As the guards led you back to yours, you felt frustrated, hating how you were being handled like a prisoner. But you are, though, you also remembered the princess’s earlier warning and tried your best to control yourself, knowing that any resistance or disobedience could put you in more danger.

You sat on your bed, your gaze vacant as you stared at the floor once again. The sound of the door opening echoed through the room, and without even turning your head, you knew that it was the princess entering.

“That was Agatha, she's the head here.” The princess spoke as if she knew all the questions you had in mind.

Your voice was cold and devoid of emotion as you asked, “What will happen to the girl?”

The princess stayed silent, her attention shifting to the vanity mirror as she began to fix her appearance. She did not offer any response to your question, her focus solely on her reflection.

You stood up abruptly, your voice filled with irritation and anger as you faced her.

“Why aren't you answering my question now, huh?” you laughed humorlessly, “You speak to me as if you know everything in my mind, but now you can't answer my question?”

“What is going to happen to that girl?” you repeated the question shakingly, angrily emphasizing each word.

“I am not answering because the answer to your question is already in your mind too.”

“No…” you shook your head, you wanted to throw up everything you ate on that goddamn table.

“She might probably meet the one who requested her from the Red Room but they won't have her not until the night.”

“Stop,” you whispered.

But the princess didn't bother, she continued, “And whoever that person can do whatever they want on her, like fuck her or...”

“Stop!”

“You want to know the truth, don't you? And now you cannot accept it?!”

The princess spun around, her face now visible to you.

“That is her truth! Because the same thing happened to me!” Her eyes were filled with anger and pain. She stood mere inches away from you, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her revelation.

You could feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, their warmth cascading down your cheeks. It was not for your own pain but for the princess' and the girl. The realization of what they had been through, the suffering they endured, and the horrors of what is happening or what might happen to the girl right now broke you, and the tears rolled down shamelessly.

Xialing clenched her jaw, her voice sharp and harsh.

“I don't need your tears or your sympathy,” she said firmly, her jaw clenching as she turned her back at you. Now, she is the one who's trying to hold her own tears back, not for herself—but for you.

“Better save your tears for yourself because the same thing will happen to you in no time.”

⧗

Bucky pushed Yelena forcefully forward, his grip on her arm firm and unwavering. Yelena stumbled, regaining her balance as she came to a halt in front of Natasha's table.

“I saw this one climbing in,” Bucky said, his voice monotone. “I thought I'd bring her to you.”

Natasha looked up, her gaze shifting towards her sister who stood before her, panting and disheveled.

“Natasha…” she breathed but she was interrupted when Maria pushed the door open and entered the room, her eyes widening as she took in the blonde who looked so distressed in front of her.

“I thought we were having an emergency meeting,” she chuckled in surprise, “I didn't know we were having a torture party. Should I get your toys, Natalia?”

“You made the wrong move coming here, little one,” Bucky growled. “Did you really think you could still sneak in unnoticed this time?”

“Enough of that,” Natasha interjected, her authoritative tone silencing Bucky and Maria instantly.

Yelena seized the opportunity to speak, “I know you're looking for Y/N and I...I can help you.”

“Dreykov is not stupid enough to trust you with everything. They just used you and you, in your desperate quest to prove your worth, did whatever Papa wanted you to. Even if it's you taking away the one I love! ”

Yelena visibly flinched at her sister's words. Her expression shifted from determination to disbelief and for a brief moment, a flicker of guilt once again passed through her eyes with Natasha's revelation.

Her sister loves you and she knowingly became a part of those chains that led you away from her.

Her determination flared up even more.

“But I am not dumber, Natasha,” the blonde asserted. “I tracked them. I know where they are. We both know that I know the Red Room better than you. I knew they were still out there when you thought you succeeded in burning them, but you don't. You know mama is a product of the—”

She was cut off as Natasha hurled the glass of whiskey in her direction making the blonde flinch.

“Mama is not a product of the Red Room!” she shouted, her words filled with fierce anger. “She was a victim! She didn't choose that life, it was forced upon her. Don't you dare label her in that way!”

“YA byl produktom…” (I was the product) she now let out a humorless chuckle as she stared directly onto her sister's eyes, the irony of her own words bitter in her mouth. “You still don't get it, sestra, do you?”

Yelena froze, her breaths becoming shallow as Natasha's words settled within her. Her mind raced, refusing to accept the horrifying truth that was beginning to take shape.

She shook her head, an unconscious act of denial. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath, “They love each other from the beginning! Papa loved Mama the first ti—”

“If they did…” Natasha didn't let her sister finish, not wanting to hear the stupid fairytale lie of a love story Alexei used to tell them as a kid.

“Why did Mama look at me, as if I reminded her of her worst nightmare?” The horrified look of her mother on her flashed in Natasha's mind, she winced as she remember how many countless times she called out for her Mama, but her cries went unanswered.

The three stood in silence, their heads were kept down in unease as Natasha revealed and recounted her pain.

“You heard the different side of the love story, Yeye. Why don't you flip the other side, so you'll see the rest of it?” Natasha's smirk was tinged with a bitter edge as she echoed the nickname Alexei used to call the blonde.

“He loved her the first time he laid eyes on her?” She paused in disbelief, her expression hardening as she avoided addressing Alexei as her Papa. “It was nothing more than an illusion - a sick, twisted form of possession. He was a coward, so he just asked his friend to capture her. He paid them and forced himself on Mama.” She narrowed her eyes as she looked once again at her sister, “I thought you knew the Red Room well?”

“I do, I still do...I know their every movement but what they don't know is I am willing to betray them for you, Natalia.”

Secret Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

#scheduled post #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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thewidowsledger · 4 months ago

Text

Secrets Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 12: A Room of Your Own | 5.2k

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: 18+, bad writing, slow burn, horny thoughts, gun pointing (?), bully Yelena (?), is fluff a warning? If yes, then what the fluff?

Author's Note: Scene reference from the movie Black Widow👀 I had to watch it so I can be able to write the scene. And, and, and the mascot was from my own experience, lol. Not proofread so if you see some stupid mistakes, no you didn't.

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

“Fuck.” You mutter to yourself as soon as you're sure that she's out of the room. It feels like you’ve been holding your breath since you felt Natasha close to you and now you're gasping for air. You immediately slapped your cheek over and over, trying to remove the thoughts out of your mind.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is wrong.” You feel your head being light, remembering her words.

“You can take it.”

“Just like that.”

“Good girl.”

You took a pillow and slammed it on your face with both of your hands and screamed at it, it stayed at your face for a couple of seconds before you slowly removed it.

You squeezed your thighs shut to relieve the aching feeling between your legs, “Oh God, forgive me for I have sinned.”

“Y/N?” A call coming out your door freaked you out, you immediately shuffled and got out of your bed, you ran towards the door as you put your clothes over your freshly cleaned up wound.

You peeked revealing Maria outside, “Oh hey.”

“Here's your food, there are actually stocks of food in your room but Natasha told the chef to have some soup made for you.” She said carrying a tray of soup and water. “You okay?” She asked as she saw your blushing form just staring at the tray.

“Oh yeah, shit t-thanks. I mean…” you winced as you opened the door for her to come in and immediately but carefully took the tray from her. You put it on the side of your bed and walked back towards her.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you, “So? How are you?” She asked crossing her arms, offering you a comforting smile

“I…” you shrugged.

"I know things are hard for you...complicated," Maria empathized. "But please don't sleep naked on the tile floor again, Y/N." She chuckled, as did you.

She noticed your nervous fidgeting and slowly began walking towards the door, with you following closely behind, crossing your arms and rubbing your arm.

"She was really worried about you," Maria declared as she looked at you.

You nodded slowly, recognizing the depth of Natasha's concern. Your heart wanted to jump out of its place. But you actually hadn't meant to cause her any worry, and now a plan began to take shape in your mind. You thought about making it up to Natasha for all she had done for you. Just as Maria started to leave your room, you hastily called out to her.

"I uh, Maria," you began, "Is it possible for me to go into the kitchen later? I'd like to do some cooking, or something." You cursed yourself for being so awkward.

“Oh…” she smiled, “Sure, I’ll tell the chef. Finish your food first and you can have the kitchen all by yourself.”

⧗

You quickly finished the remainder of your soup and carried the tray with you as you made your way out of your room.

With the tray in your grasp, you navigated through the halls, making your way towards the kitchen. As you walked, the sound of your footsteps echoed slightly in the deserted corridor, as if the emptiness itself was listening to your every step.

Finally, you arrived at the kitchen that Maria had pointed out to you a day ago. The kitchen was one large expansive room, without any doors or dividers. The space was seamless and open, allowing the air to flow freely between the workstations and appliances.

You cautiously stepped inside, placing the tray in the sink. You took a moment to survey the kitchen, your hands slightly fidgeting from nerves. You had initially planned to bake, but now that you are faced with the vastness of the kitchen, you actually don't know what to do now as you feel a little overwhelmed.

The kitchen was immaculate, the stainless steel counters gleaming under the warm glow of the overhead lights. Rows of pristine cookware, pots, and pans hung from hooks on the backsplash, and the various appliances were meticulously arranged on the counters.

“Wow…I only had a microwave in my apartment.” You muttered to yourself.

You took a moment to examine the cabinets, quietly searching for the ingredients you needed for what you planned to bake. Opening each one, you looked closely, taking mental note of what you had and what you still needed to find. Then, your eyes landed on the pantry, located to the left of the large fridge.

You entered the pantry, which was another expansive room brimming with ingredients.

“Wow…” your jaw literally dropped as you took a good look around the pantry, you couldn't help but marvel at the variety of items before you. It seemed like a mini grocery store!

One by one, you managed to retrieve everything you needed. The ingredients in your arms grew, until eventually you had everything you needed, including flour, sugar, chocolate chips, eggs, and butter. With your arms full, you carefully walked out of the pantry.

You began your cooking project by setting all the ingredients out on a clean countertop. The measuring cups, spoons, bowls, and baking sheets were placed strategically so you could easily access them. As you arranged everything, a small wave of overwhelm washed over you as you looked at the materials before you. You were anxious that you may accidentally damage or ruin them in some way.

You measured each ingredient, the aroma of the dough began to fill the room, blending the scents of sugar and butter. With each cup and teaspoon, you mixed the ingredients in a large bowl, creating a smooth and creamy base.

You had finally completed the cookie dough and were now preparing to bake it. However, in order to do so, you needed to find the parchment paper, which was nowhere to be seen.

“Where did I put it?”

You were frantically searching for it, knowing that you had just placed it in one place together with others. You began to worry that you misplaced it. Suddenly, you heard a voice behind you. “Looking for this?”

Startled, you whipped around to find Yelena, sitting casually on the countertop, holding the parchment paper you had been looking for. Your clumsy hands accidentally knocked over some of the ingredients, causing it to crash to the ground.

You immediately and instinctively crouched down to fix the mess you made, Yelena smirked down at the sight. She toyed with the parchment paper as you cleaned in front of her.

Yelena hummed a nonsensical tune, her feet idly swaying and occasionally coming close to your head, almost purposely. However, you tried not to let it get to you and refrained from showing any reaction. Deep inside, you couldn't help but hope that Natasha would appear, as she usually did when her sister was around, to rescue you from this frustrating situation.

“Yelena.”

Yelena turned, a smirk creeping in her face. She tilted her head, “Hey Riri.”

Maria's expression toward Yelena remained emotionless. She maintained a stoic demeanor, silently observing Yelena's actions and behavior. “You know where to find your sister.”

“I always do.” Yelena chuckled as she leaped off the countertop and nonchalantly let the parchment paper fall to the ground as you focused on cleaning up. Without a pause, she promptly walked out of the kitchen.

When Yelena was finally out of sight Maria immediately inquired if you're okay to which you nodded.

Maria, noticing the lingering tension Yelena left in the air, she turned to you with a sympathetic expression and softly apologized for Yelena's behavior.

"I'm sorry about Yelena," she said gently. "She can be quite...a lot."

Sensing your lack of response, Maria quickly shifted the conversation and her eyes landed at the countertop, seeing the dough you just made ready to be baked.

“You know, that looks really delicious,” she said, her tone shifting to a more casual one.

Her words were meant to ease the tension, hoping to alleviate any discomfort you might still be feeling. Her words, though simple, had a profound effect, causing your cheeks to blush. A small, shy smile graced your lips as you gratefully accepted her compliment.

“Thanks,” you said as you stood with the ingredients on your arms. “I just need to bake them, can I ask for a hand? I don't know how your oven works.”

Upon hearing your request for assistance, a warm smile spread across Maria's face. “Sure, whatever you need.”

⧗

"I know you’re out there.” Yelena, still concealing her presence, speaks out, her voice carrying a hint of challenge as she carefully closes the door behind her and pulled the gun behind her jeans.

Natasha, unfazed, responds calmly, she leaned back to her office chair, "I know you know I’m out here."

Yelena cautiously steps forward, her eyes scanning the room carefully. She picks her way through the room, avoiding any objects that might make noise or hinder her movement.

"So, are we going to talk like grown-ups?" Natasha said after a lack of response from her sister.

“Is that what we are?” Yelena shot back, finally revealing her sister who's sitting in her office chair, gun pointed in her direction.

The room is tense, their eyes locked in a deadly staring contest. Natasha stood from her chair and circled the desk, walking forward, her gun pointed directly at Yelena.

“Put it down before I make you.” Yelena said with a stern voice, she walked backwards when she saw Natasha slowly begin to advance. She kept her gun pointed precisely at her sister.

“You put yours down.” Natasha replied, keeping her gun trained on Yelena, her footsteps are measured and steady, her gaze still locked on the blonde.

As Yelena takes a step backward, she slightly stumbles. She falters momentarily but quickly regains her footing.

“Watch your step.”

Yelena responded with a smirk.

With each step, the distance closes between them, their body tense and ready for any sudden moves from each other.

In a quick, coordinated movement, both Natasha and Yelena switch their guns with each other, passing them between their hands while still maintaining their defensive stances.

The switch is swift and seamless, a testament to the skill and familiarity the sisters have with each other's movements. Both continue to watch each other intently, weapons now held in the other's hand. The air crackles with tension, neither of them willing to back down.

Natasha, in a split second, reaches out and touches Yelena’s gun and the unexpected touch is enough to send Yelena straight into attack mode. She quickly launches herself at Natasha, slamming her sister towards the wall.

Natasha winces, the impact on her back momentarily catching her off guard. But Natasha was quick to counterattack; she grabbed Yelena’s jacket, and pushed her harshly, she then yanked her towards the cabinets. In a single swift motion, Natasha slams her sister’s back against the table below, pinning her firmly by the jaw.

“Stay down, stay down!”

Despite being in a disadvantaged position, Yelena makes quick work of the situation. With her sharp and agile movements, she sneaks her hand behind her and grabs a stack of thick papers from the table. Before Natasha can react, Yelena brings the papers down hard against her sister's head.

The unexpected blow sends Natasha staggering back, her grip on Yelena momentarily loosening. Yelena uses this to her advantage and quickly stands from being pinned.

Natasha and Yelena continue eyeing each other, both of them are breathing heavily and are refusing to back down. The tension in the room is palpable. After a long moment, Natasha breaks the standoff and walks back to her desk, she winced as she touched her side slightly.

“How's mama?” Natasha asks in a detached tone as if they didn't just almost kill each other seconds ago.

Yelena can't hold back a smile. The mention of their mother seems to bring a bit of tenderness and excitement into Yelena's voice. She straightens her clothes after the fight, pausing to collect her thoughts before she speaks.

“She uhm,” Yelena started fidgeting, “Mama’s fine, she's okay and uhh…she misses you so much, like she always cooks your favorite when she misses you.”

Yelena's excitement was almost palpable as she shared this tidbit of information. On the other hand, Natasha's stoic expression gave away nothing of her emotions. She reached for a beer, uncapping it. The sound of the cap snapping off echoed in as her sister continued to ramble.

“And papa, he’s—”

“I only asked for mama did I?” Her response was crisp and biting, a clear indication that she had no interest in hearing about their father.

Yelena was visibly taken aback by Natasha's abruptness. She watched in silence as her sister finished the beer in one smooth gulp, setting the empty bottle down with a firm tap on the hardwood desk.

She huffed, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the room. Her voice was slightly mocking as she made a comment about Natasha's setup.

"Quite domesticated here," she began, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Got yourself a wife cooking downstairs, huh?"

Natasha's cold gaze flicked up to meet Yelena's, her expression hardening at the mention of you. She interrupted her sister sternly, knowing how this conversation would go.

"Enough."

But Yelena didn't relent, continuing to push her sister's buttons.

"All cutesy," she began, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Bringing poison into this house."

Natasha's patience had reached its limit. Her eyes flashed and her jaw tightened. In a swift, fluid movement, she slammed the jagged pieces of the broken glass onto the table, the sound of it making a loud thud against the hard surface. Her voice was low and sharp as she shouted at her sister.

Yelena didn't expect the sudden move, and she flinched momentarily.

"I said, enough." She emphasized each word, her fingers digging into the desk, the fragments of which were now scattered across the desk and the floor.

“Get out, I have a meeting to go to.”

Yelena let out a huff, her neutral demeanor faltering. She started walking backwards, still facing her sister.

"I don't understand you," she said, shaking her head slightly. "All of this for a woman you just met weeks ago."

She began to make her way out of the room. As she reached the threshold, she turned back to look at her sister, her expression firm. In a quieter voice, she added, "Don't drag yourself into this."

And with that, Natasha was left alone in her office, shattered glasses, scattered papers everywhere. The silence was thick and heavy. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the chaos that surrounded her. She let out a sigh, running her hands through her hair, the stress of the situation starting to manifest physically. As the clock ticked by, counting down the minutes until her meeting, Natasha took a deep breath to steady herself.

⧗

You had just finished plating the cookies, neatly arranging them on a tray. The thought of finding Natasha to give her the baked goods brought a small smile to your face. However, your thoughts were interrupted when you turned and saw Yelena leaning against the counter. Her sudden appearance made you jump slightly, the familiar feeling of uneasiness creeping over you.

Yelena chuckled seeing your reaction. She watched you intently, her expression amused. It was clear she enjoyed startling you and making you feel uncomfortable, as always

“Looking for Natasha?” She asked as if she could read your mind, you nodded not daring to look at her.

“I know where she is,” remembering that her sister just told her that she has some meeting to attend to. A smirk creeped into her face as she thought about you making some surprise visit to that meeting.

“2nd floor, last room at the left hall.”

You smile slightly at her and your eyes flickered as she told you where her sister is, the excitement evident in you.

“Thanks,” you said, slightly stuttering due to your eagerness to leave. “You can have some if you want.”

With the tray of cookies in your hands, you began slowly making your way past Yelena. A wave of disdain flooded over her. She hated how genuine you were, showing kindness even after she had been so tough on you. No matter how hard time she gave you, you still managed to make small genuine acts towards her and she hated it.

She hated you.

Yelena, despite her best efforts to stay aloof, found herself drawn to the freshly baked cookies sitting on the counter. The aroma was irresistible. Her pride told her not to take one, but her stomach says otherwise. In a swift motion, she picked one up and quickly stuffed it into her mouth, the sweet taste only adding to her inner conflict. It was so good that she hated you more.

⧗

As you make your way down the hall towards where Natasha is, your heart thumps in your chest. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach, each step bringing you closer. As you approach the hall, you mentally rehearse what to say.

“This is for you,” you say aloud, testing the words out. Then, you jokingly chide yourself, “What? No greetings? That's so disrespectful of you Y/N.”

“I baked cookies for you,” you tried again with a sigh on how awkward you sound.

Caught up in your internal monologue, you continue to walk and rehearse your lines, blissfully unaware of your surroundings. The door suddenly opens under your touch, and you find yourself standing in the doorway of Natasha's office.

Shit. You stop short, your eyes swept across the room. Not only is Natasha present, but there are also four other men in there, all of whom look like hardened criminals. They were in the middle of a meeting, and your unexpected entrance caught everyone's attention. Silence filled the air as their gaze landed on you, and you felt completely out of place, standing in the doorway with the tray of cookies in your hands.

Instantly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. All the men in the room quickly stood up, their expressions neutral as they drew their weapons and aimed them directly at you as if they were trained to do it. The sound of multiple guns cocking filled your ears, and you instinctively froze, the tray of cookies trembling in your hands and your eyes started to get covered with tears. You thought this is it for you.

Natasha shoots up from her chair. “Fuck,” she muttered enough for everyone to hear, “Don’t you dare fucking shoot her! Out! Now!”

Your shoulders jump at the sharpness of the order, you know she has your protection in mind, though. You're on the verge of crying while apologizing for barging in on the meeting, but the men in attendance also jump to their feet, instantly bowing courteously to Natasha before hastily making their exit giving you a wide berth as they open the other door to her office and file out.

Natasha's eyes were locked onto you, concern etched across her face.

“Fuck…” a cursed escaped her lips. “Baby…” And without realizing it, a term of endearment slipped out this time. Natasha could see the shock on your face and the tremble in your hands holding the tray of cookies. She gently took the tray from you and set it down on the long table in the meeting room.

“Hey,” she called, holding your face.

Your words came out in a shaky breath, your voice quivering slightly. “I'm so sorry Natasha,” you said, the guilt and embarrassment evident. “I didn't mean to…” You tried to hold back the tears, but the sobs began to take over, your body shaking slightly.

You managed to get the words out between the sobs, explaining, “I just wanted to give you these cookies I made for you. And...and your sister...she told me you were here…” Your voice sounded like a small child complaining.

“Eta suka.” (That bitch) she whispered.

“I’m sorry, you weren't supposed to see that.” She said softly, bringing your head on her shoulder. You caught a whiff of her perfume as you nuzzled closer to her neck.

“You baked this for me?” she asked, caught off guard, your shy nod confirmed and a small smile curled on her lips.

“Why don't we get out and enjoy them?” You nodded again, this time with a genuine smile blossoming on your face.

⧗

As you and Natasha walked side by side, she casually looped her arm around your waist, making you feel safe and secure. In her other hand, she held the tray of cookies.

Suddenly, you were startled to see a guard carrying a large gun standing in front of you. Surprised, you looked up at him, but Natasha quickly intervened, asking him to step aside.

She turned to you and explained apologetically, “Sorry, it's security.” You nodded, understanding the need for precautions in her line of work.

“Don't you have an ongoing meeting?”

Natasha simply shrugged and responded nonchalantly, "They can wait."

“I’m really sorry, you should've finished whatever you're discussing if I didn't barge in—”

As you began to apologize once again, Natasha quickly reassured you, cutting off your apology before you could finish. Holding your hand, she gently squeezed it to comfort you.

"Y/N, it's okay." She continued walking with you, leading the way towards the tranquil garden of the manor.

Your eyes widened in awe as you took in the breathtaking view of the lake in front of you. "Wow," you breathed out, captivated by the beauty of your surroundings.

Natasha gestured for you to take a seat beside her in the soft grass. She removed her leather jacket and laid it down on the ground, creating a soft surface for you to sit comfortably.

As she did so, you inadvertently caught a glimpse of her biceps flexing. To your surprise, you could see that her arms were adorned with intricate tattoos, the ink dancing across her skin. But there was also a long, slender scar running through one of the tattoos, partially concealed by the ink.

The sight of it caused your breath to hitch in your throat, your gaze lingering on her skin and her strong arms.

You quickly shifted your gaze, your mind raced as you hoped she hadn't noticed the way your eyes had lingered on her arms.

Looking away, you redirected your attention to the serene lake in front of you, the cool breeze gently ruffling your hair and bringing some relief to your flushed face.

The two of you sat down together, she put the tray of cookies in front of you and you on the other hand was still fascinated at the view of the lake, your mouth slightly opened. Natasha couldn't help but smile at you, she grabbed a cookie from the tray which caught your attention.

“So?” You asked, “How was it?”

“You should try your own cookie.” She said, winking at you and you did, you grabbed one and took a bite.

“It's heavenly,” she commented, you looked at her with your brows furrowed.

“Heavenly?” You laughed, “What are you a poet?” You said between giggles.

For a few moments, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you sat together in the garden. It wasn't an awkward silence per se, but rather a calm and peaceful atmosphere that surrounded you both.

Your eyes wandered idly, scanning the surroundings until they landed on a beautiful rose bush nearby. A sense of wonder filled you as you spotted a single red rose in full bloom. Excited, you pointed at it and exclaimed with a childlike enthusiasm.

"Look, a rose! Like the ones on your shoulder!”

As soon as the words left your lips, you immediately realized your faux pas and hastily apologized.

“I'm sorry,” you said remorsefully. “I think they're cool you know, your tattoos.”

Natasha looked at the roses, not providing an immediate response. Feeling even more embarrassed, you repeated your apology with a pout, feeling awkward.

Natasha chuckled at your adorable reaction and reassured you, “It's fine, Y/N.”

After a moment of silence, you found yourself rambling again. Curiosity tinged your voice as you mused aloud,

“So it's true, mob bosses…gangsters or whatever…they all have tattoos on their upper bodies, huh?”

Natasha hummed, “Yeah, I guess they do,”

A teasing smile tugged at your lips as you jokingly inquired, “You think I'd look good with tattoos too? Look, I have scars now too.” Natasha's eyes met yours, and a soft chuckle escaped her lips in response to your question.

Your heart skipped a beat as her laughter filled the air. The mere sound of her amusement sent a wave of warmth rushing through you, causing a flutter in your chest. It was a small victory, earning her laughter, but one that felt significant nonetheless.

“You silly girl,” she remarked as she took another cookie from the tray.

“It's an initiation rites,” she started, you shifted and sat properly beside her ready to listen to whatever she's going to say.

“I never wanted to have it, my mother told my father that it should stop with him.” She pauses, gathering her thoughts, before continuing, “The curse of our blood.”

That line just made your skin crawl.

“I saw how people looked at my father, all the scars in his body? I don't wanna be seen that way.” Her voice trembles slightly.

“I woke up,” she shifted slightly, “in a chair, I was tied up. I was 15 when I had it, my father slowly scarred my skin while I was begging him to stop. I was shouting for my mom but she never came.” She said it nonchalantly as she recounts the harrowing experience.

Your heart wrenched in your chest as you listened to her.

“From then I had to accept my fate.” A hint of bitterness tugged at the corners of Natasha's lips. “But that didn't mean I had to carry it on with me.”

Her eyes darted to the ground, studying the blades of grass that lay beneath her feet. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing.

“I managed our business for 4 years and left to start my own. I haven't seen my parents since, only Yelena.” She looked at you, placing her hands at her back so she could lean on them and she straightened her legs forward. “What about you?”

“Oh, me?” You asked, pointing at yourself using the cookie.

“Yes, silly.” She giggled at you.

“I don't wanna make it about me though, you’re sharing yours—”

“Please tell me, I wanna know.” She cut you off.

You fell silent for a moment, collecting your thoughts and steeling yourself recalling your past. You swallowed the last piece of cookie in your hand before you spoke.

“Well, let's start with the fact that I never got to see my parents,” you began casually. “My mom died giving birth...to me and my dad left my mom before I was even born. So I grew up with my grandparents, but when they passed away, I had to live by myself.”

As you continued, your hands instinctively sought comfort, and you started to hug your legs tightly.

“My aunt took my grandparents' house and decided to sell it,” you huffed, your voice laced with bitterness. “They gave me my part of it because my mom’s gone and yeah, of course, I get to have her share in that.

“I started working at 17 to pay for my school," you said, recounting your early attempts at earning money. "I did everything, I worked at a laundromat, waitress, hostess, janitress, mascot…”

“Mascot?” Natasha's curiosity piqued, as she immediately asked.

A soft laugh escaped your lips as you nodded and explained, “Yeah, there was this pizzeria that was having their opening and for a month I was half human and half pizza.”

“Wow…” Natasha laughed, “That’s funny…I mean no offense and respect to that because that's a difficult job.”

“Yeah, it is ‘coz they stink with all the sweat you know, ugh.” You rolled your eyes and made a gagging noise that earned another laugh from the redhead.

“Do you know how mascots blink?” you asked, your chin lifted in with a grin on your face.

“Ooh interesting, how?”

"When I did it, there's actually this thing in the hands of the mascot that whenever you close the hands," you lifted your left hand and formed a balled fist, demonstrating the mechanism of the mascot, “the mascot also blinks.”

“Ooh, I thought—”

You quickly guessed her thought, laughing slightly, “That it blinks when the person inside blinks?”

“I know it sounds so stupid but yeah.” She admitted with a sheepish grin.

You both couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the idea, to the point that both of you had to lay back down almost dying in laughter.

When the both of you finally calm down, Natasha's question broke the silence, and her curious tone filled the air as she asked, facing you as both of you were laying down, “So you went to college?”

“I did.”

Natasha then continued her line of questioning, “What happened? Did you finish?”

“I did. I was late for 2 years. Decided to have a leap year so I can save money for college. I took theater arts and when I finished I moved to New York with all my savings, hoping to fulfill my dream, you know...every kid's dream, everybody's dream, Broadway. But things didn't go as planned. But…I still had planned my future and I did plan some options. We need some safety net y’know?”

“Planned some options?” Natasha asked, slightly curious at the thought.

“Yeah.” You nodded, you can actually feel the grass and the dirt mixing with your hairstrand.

“And the plan is?”

“My plan is…one, to get a degree, finish college and I already did that. And I have two options if my degree doesn't work out for me.” You paused, your tongue darting out to wet your lips before continuing.

“One, be a stripper or two, be someone's trophy wife. And that's how I landed on Valkyrie's, option one.” You finally turned to look at her but she was already staring at you, your eyes widened and immediately got up trying to cover up the blush creeping in your face.

Natasha slowly sat beside you, your heart skipped a beat. You felt her presence as she reached for your hand, gently pulling you to your feet.

"I gotta show you something."

You grabbed her leather jacket and left the empty tray of cookies. The two of you walked back towards the manor, passing by a couple of armed guards who stood watch.

Natasha led you towards the large hall, her grip on your hand firm and sure. As she opened the double doors, you were immediately struck by the empty room that greeted you.

The space was spacious, with mirrors lining the walls and a solitary pole placed in the center. The polished wooden floor shone under the dim lighting, creating a subtle and intimate atmosphere.

A shy smile played on Natasha's lips as she spoke, looking directly at you. Her voice was soft, almost sheepish as she confessed.

“I still remember that dream of yours being a ballerina. So I had this room made just for you.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “Natasha, this…” Your voice trailed off for a moment as you gathered your thoughts, your emotions overwhelming you.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, your voice cracking slightly as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks.

You don't need to be scared now.

No one will stop you.

No one will threaten you to know your place.

Because right now, at this moment, you do know your place.

You stepped forward and leaned towards Natasha, you gently planted a soft kiss on her cheek, your lips lingering for just a fraction of a second.

Secrets Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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thewidowsledger · 5 months ago

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Secret Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 10: Everything's Personal | 2.4k

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: 18+, bad writing, slow burn, angst, details of drugging, mean Yelena

Author's Note: This is my first time posting again after a year of abandoning this fic. I promise to post every week and expect 4 to 6 more chapters for this series, happy reading everyone!

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

"I took a urine sample, you're right about drink spiking," he confirmed, his voice carrying a hint of concern. This isn't new to him or something of a big problem, but Strange felt that there is more to this situation and he couldn't help but to feel slightly alarmed.

"Yeah, I found her almost unconscious in the club," Natasha sighed, her eyes never settling, "What drug? Maybe I could identify the dealer or even the manufacturer, is it a party drug? M&M? Eccy? Something illegal here or no—"

Strange interrupted her gently, "Rohypnol, it's illegal for medical use." Strange crossed his arms and gave Natasha a concerned look, "In my line of work if I have my license it's called Flunitrazepam but in your world, well…our without license, it is known as a date-rape drug."

"What?" Natasha's jaw tensed as she absorbed the information. “Well I found her in a bar, these drugs can be commonly found in clubs so it makes total sense.”

Stephen Strange, known for his extraordinary medical skills, had earned a reputation not only among the general public but also among certain secretive circles. While he mostly focused on healing and saving lives, he had occasionally and secretly found himself providing medical assistance to individuals involved in criminal activities, including members in darker organized crime syndicates.

"I was shock she remembers a tiny bits of what happened to her, people who gets drugged by roach doesn't remember anything at all. She remembered mostly herself getting dragged and being thrown in a dark room," Strange then finally sat on the couch of Natasha's office, "She also remembers her shoulder burning like hell. And about that, I already cleaned and applied dressing on it. You should've brought her to me earlier. It's a 3rd degree burn, she could've gotten infections from and if she did I might have to perform wound debridement on her."

"I-I never saw it, Yelena did. She was the one who told me." Natasha slightly moved in her office chair, not comfortable as she shared the information.

"Family reunion, I see." Strange cocked his brow and once again took a glance at her.

Natasha huffed, "I'm way past that." She finally stood and made her way to a small corner of her office where she kept a personal stash of beverages. She poured a small amount into a glass, "I know you're a doctor and it's so early in the morning but care for a drink?" She slid the glass on her desk and gestured Strange to sit in the chair across her office chair.

"What's on her skin, the mark…it is something." He finally stood and grabbed the glass of whiskey before settling himself in front of Natasha. "Have you identified it yet?"

"No."

"You know you're in—"

Knowing what he was going to say, Natasha replied instinctively and immediately not allowing him to finish. "You don't need to remind me that, Stephen."

"You should know what you're going into, Natalia." Strange said, now they're both playing the game of using their real name, a gesture that reflected the seriousness of conversation. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier as they exchanged sharp glances.

"And I do." Natasha held her gaze on him, masking her frustration growing. "I always do, Stephen."

Strange sighed, his eyes never leaving Natasha's. He leaned forward to her, "This…" he circled the glass he's holding onto the table, "Whatever this is you're entering, it's dangerous and the stakes are higher than ever. I know you've faced countless situations before, but this…this is different. This is personal." He warned, he then reclined in his seat, both of his elbows were positioned at the chair's armrest. "You have to be careful, Natalia."

"Everything's personal, Stephen." She didn't flinch under Strange's cautionary words. There are only a few things Natasha resents: Being reminded of her vulnerabilities, being told of the things she's supposed to do and not to do, and on the top of her list, men. Natasha just nodded acknowledging Strange's concern.

"I'm just looking out for you."

"I know." Natasha replied softly.

"Well I think I'm done here, if something happened you know where to find me," he paused and finished his drink. "Well I do know where to find you too."

Natasha chuckled and apologized, "I'm sorry for making you go here without notice." But Strange waved it off, "I'll walk you out, Stephen."

As they both reached the door, they were surprised to find Yelena lounging on the couch.

"Family reunion, I see." Strange teasingly muttered against his breath. And his comment didn't go unnoticed by Natasha, who tried to maintain her composure despite her growing frustration for her sister once again.

"Hey, Doc." Yelena greeted lazily.

"Hi." He glanced at Natasha, noticing her stifled groans and huffs. "Don't kill her, I don't wanna overstay here." Strange jokes as he quickly puts on his suit.

"I'll try not to."

He couldn't help but chuckle at her response, he immediately shifted the topic not wanting to frustrate her more. "Clean and change the bandages every 4 hours, I already gave her some antibiotics and a pack of fine mesh gauze. It'll heal probably in 2 weeks or so."

As soon as the elevator closed, she quickly marched to the living room. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"I said I will come in here whether you like it or not." Yelena replied groggily as she shifted herself in a more comfortable position on the couch.

Natasha immediately grabbed Yelena's tank top by the neck. Natasha glared angrily at her sister before focusing on the jacket she was donning. "Is that my jacket?" she questioned even more angrily.

"Well you didn't get most of your stuff when you left home." Yelena replied her shoulders slumped trying to move away from Natasha's hold. She raised both of her hands to her ears.

"Still doesn't explain the jacket." Natasha groaned.

"Woah!" Yelena mockingly exclaimed as soon as she saw you peeking, "She still here huh?" She glanced back at her sister. "Hiiiii!" Yelena looked behind Natasha's thighs and greeted you mockingly.

Once more groaning, Natasha roughly pulled her sister deeply in the couch before hesitantly letting go of her. Her piercing glare stopped Yelena from reacting as she was about to whimper in pain over her sister's harshness.

"This girl is always coming to my rescue." Yelena smirked as she muttered to herself. She threw a pillow on her sister's back testing her because she knows that she won't do anything now that you're there.

"You okay?" Natasha asks.

"Yeah, my wound feels so cold though. But yeah, I'm fine physically but not entirely fine…" You awkwardly chuckle as you get frustrated again because the whole situation hasn't dawned on you really.

"I ordered some food, do you eat Italian?" Natasha softly asks and you sheepishly nod, you look at Yelena sitting behind Natasha's standing figure; she gives you an uneasy smile before averting her eyes from you.

Natasha walked past you and went to the kitchen, you immediately followed her leaving Yelena alone in the living room. You sat in one of the chairs of the kitchen table as Natasha set up the food for you. "Here, krasivaya." She muttered under her breath as she handed you a fork and gently placed a plate of pasta in front of you. Of course you heard it, you never missed it.

"What else did you remember the other night?" She asked, "If you don't mind me asking. If you're not comfortable it's totally okay but at some point you have to tell me so I could help you."

"What does that mean?" You finally spoke but awkwardly.

"What?" Natasha blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your question.

"You called me something…I don't understand it." You murmured as you tried to avoid her eyes while you played with the fork in your hand.

"Beautiful." Yelena appeared from behind, Natasha scowled at Yelena who was slowly heading towards the kitchen. "Why?"

"Nothing." Your voice was so small that you were not comfortable with Yelena's presence. You looked down to your plate trying to hide the fear and discomfort forming in your face as you remembered what happened the other night.

Natasha sensed your discomfort as Yelena continued to linger around the room. She shot her sister a glare, hoping she'd take the hint and give some space. Yelena, though mischievous, could be sensitive to such cues when she wanted to be.

Yelena huffed, turning to look at her sister with a sinister smile, "Don't be flattered by it, Natasha calls every girl that."

Natasha's scowl intensified as Yelena continued to intrude on the conversation. She clenched her jaw and shot her sister a stern look once again, but Yelena continued to give her a playful smirk. She inhaled trying to calm herself and remembered Strange's joke-ish reminder not to kill her sister and right now she thinks she couldn't handle the urge not to.

You looked down at your plate, almost slamming your face on it. You felt a sudden jealousy and insecurity swirling in you, you gave her an awkward and sad chuckle. "Well I uhh, uhm t-the Maximoff lady…the Maximoff lady called me that." You managed to say before taking a bite of your pasta.

"Maximoff lady?" Natasha slightly clenched her jaw, she couldn't help but immediately ask.

"Oooh…" Yelena tilted her head as she eyed her sister with a smug in her face, "Wanda... that's interesting." She murmured something that you couldn't quite make out—was it because she spoke in such a feeble voice or was it because she spoke in a different language? "What else did she say to you, huh?"

"Yelena." Natasha warned. And you started to panic, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Or things you let her do to you?" Yelena methodically sifted through the pantry shelves, all aware of your growing unease but she still continued. She put her elbows on the table across you, she looked at you in the eyes and smirked, "I bet you let her fuck you."

"Enough!" Natasha glared at her sister and walked towards her, "Why is she still here Natasha?" Yelena asked angrily.

“I want you to fucking leave Yelena. And don't worry she's not gonna be here anymore because we're moving to the manor. And I want you gone.” Natasha's demand cut through the tense air. She looked at her straight in the eye with anger evident in hers.

Yelena nodded and backed down with a sad smile on her face. “Thank you for telling me that you're moving to that pretty property of yours. A new place to barge in.” She looked again at Natasha, the before sad smile turning into a grin before walking out.

“Sumasshedshaya malen'kaya suchka.” (Crazy little bitch) Natasha whispered to herself before turning to you. You saw her closing her eyes, inhaling as she tried to calm herself.

The tension didn't vanish when you heard the elevator ding, a sign that Yelena is already gone. As the tension thickened in the air, your appetite vanished, your stomach churning with unease. The clinking of cutlery against plates echoed in the silent room.

“The Maximoff twin...the Maximoff lady didn't do anything to…to me.” You broke the silence, but you felt that you just made everything worse. “I just served some drinks to them that night before—”

“You don't need to talk about it if it's not comfortable for you.” Natasha interrupted. Your heart sank. You knew you couldn't avoid asking any longer. "Natasha," your voice wavered slightly as she turned to face you. "Why—why are you doing this? I know we talked about it already but, why? Your sister’s right, why are you doing this?"

Natasha's gaze faltered for a moment, a shadow passing over her features before she quickly masked it with a composed facade. She opened her mouth to respond, but her words seemed to catch in her throat.

“I…” Natasha avoided your innocent gaze, she knows how much it will ruin her looking at those eyes of yours. “We're gonna leave now," She finally said, her tone clipped as she rose from her seat. The abrupt change in topic caught you off guard, leaving your question unanswered and your heart heavy.

Secret Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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thewidowsledger · 1 year ago

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Secrets Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 7: Business | 5.4k

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: 18+, drugging, violence, Maximoff twins

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

2 days after…

"What's her name again?" Bucky asked, as he slowly opened his laptop on Natasha's desk.

"What are you doing?" She scowled at him.

"We'll find her and it's the basics…" Bucky answered plainly.

"You're not gonna profile her."

"What? You always do profiling with the girls you..." He glanced over to Natasha when he saw at his peripheral how her eyes threw daggers at him. She sauntered over and snatched Bucky's laptop away from him.

"I. Don't." Natasha settled from her office chair again, "You're the one profiling them!"

"Hey! I was playing solitaire!" Bucky shot back. Natasha just scowled at him, holding the laptop securely out of his reach.

"At least I bothered to know the name of the people you slept with." He started.

"Yeah, so you could have them after."

"Wh—No! So we would know if they're s-something! Someone!"

"Yeah?"

"Okay, maybe I did once but she was the one who came for me…and…and you don't even care for the girls you slept with Natasha!"

"And you do? Don't speak to me like I slept with sooooo many girls, Barnes."

Bucky crossed his arms, his face frowning in defeat—and guilt.

Bucky couldn't contain himself. He hesitantly started a conversation once again, "Aren't you curious about her? You could literally know her whole ancestry, her history in a snap if you wanted to. That's the advantage we have, you have."

"If I wanted to, yes. But…I don't want that." Natasha said with a plain tone, she handed the laptop back to Bucky.

She doesn't want to profile you, she doesn't want to use her advantages. She doesn't want to know anything about you yet—she doesn't want to spoil anything. What she wants is for everything to come from you, not from anyone, not by her using any of her advantages.

"I'm not interested in your lady, if that's what you're thinking.

"No one thinks of anything, Buck."

"I'm just…I mean," he sighed, "This is so not you, you know? You seemed different so I'm not going to lie, whoever that woman is she intrigues me...but what about your...?" Bucky took a glance at her and she was just smiling while looking down at the papers scattered in her table and he was so sure it was because of his words, he couldn't risk to bring something that would ruin that smile.

"But you know Nat, I'll always be here for you..." he shifted and Natasha just hummed in response with a smile. "What about we go have fun tonight?" Now that's a shift.

"I saw that coming," Natasha let out a few chuckles. "But as tempting as that sounds, I think I'll pass tonight Barnes," she replied, her tone indicating that her mind was preoccupied with the paper scattered in front of her. But really she was desperate to see you again but she doesn't want Bucky to notice it but unfortunately he already did.

"Oh, yeah I think we can't go clubbing at Valkyrie's tonight," Bucky scrolled at his phone, "Oh yeah, we can't," he confirmed. "The Maximoff's are taking over the club tonight…they just got back," he then flashed the phone towards Natasha, an article of the twins arriving at the airport with the headline: Maximoff Twins Homecoming at Valkyrie's tonight!

Natasha's heart skipped a beat, her mind racing to connect the dots. Valkyrie's Club…that was the place where you worked. The information hit her like a sudden jolt, a surge of adrenaline flooding her entire system.

Natasha knows how dangerous those brats can be, but they're nothing she can handle. She pushed aside her paperworks, and suddenly Natasha isn't busy anymore.

"Do you think those brats won't mind having some visitors tonight?"

⧗

As you stepped into the club, the usual hustle and bustle was back. The air was filled with hushed whispers and the sounds of the other girls preparing themselves. You were walking down the hall, gossips already buzzing around however what they're talking about wasn't even gossip.

"There was a patron that was escorted out last few nights, have you heard that?"

"He wasn't escorted out, somebody came to pick him up. That man won't even let the bouncers touch him."

"And the fact that his face was so broken...and bloody."

What a great reminder for you to start the night…

Each girl was meticulously applying their make-up, perfecting their looks for tonight.

Gossips and conversation floated through the air as the girls exchanged stories and caught up on each other's life. You just rolled your eyes on them nervously as you sat facing your vanity mirror as if you weren't involved with those incidents they were talking about.

You grabbed your make-up kit and started fixing yourself, you just did a light make-up to yourself as you decided not to perform and will just serve drinks since there are a lot of girls tonight. And besides the $1,000 Natasha slipped to your bag would still keep you alive 'till the end of the month.

You couldn't help but overhear snippets of some girl's conversation behind your back. They were too loud. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard them talk about Penelope's anger from the previous night with a heated tone. You took a quick glance at them.

"Well, from what I knew she was supposed to get a good fuck that night but...her client suddenly disappeared."

"Did you see how snappy she was when she arrived earlier?"

"She's always snappy and cranky you know. So better not get in her way girls or we're…" The girl mockingly slit her throat with her index finger with a dead look on her face.

The lipstick you were applying suddenly slipped out of your hand, sending it to the ground when you fearfully gasped at the sight of the girl doing it. You awkwardly reached for it and wiped the lipstick stain on the tiles with your bare hands. You shakily grabbed the tissue out of your bag. When you looked at your mirror you met the gaze of girls through it that screams, 'freak, weird,' or anything mean they could think of.

The mention of Penelope's client suddenly disappearing hit you like a punch to the gut. You realized that they were talking about Natasha, the patron that you saw in the midst of the crowd, the guest that literally punched a man in front of you, the stranger that you had spent time with, and the implications of Penelope's wrath sent a shiver down your spine. The thought of Penelope if she found out that you were involved in it sent waves of fear coursing your veins.

You're so dead right now, Y/N.

As you finished off, they were talking about something else now. You just rolled your eyes at them once again, these girls never run out of gossip.

The topic is now the Maximoff Twins, the other girl leaned in close to the other, her voice barely above a whisper, "I heard the older twin is an absolute stunner. Got this look that can make anyone weak in the knees," the other girls started squirming and blushing.

"Oh my god, I can't wait to be on my knees!" The other exclaimed with a moan, you almost gagged at that girl's reaction.

"As if, they were choosy based on what I have heard. Especially the youngest twin? They said the youngest is a flirt and is a brat and can always get whatever or whoever…"

"Even though that one wouldn't want me I would offer myself willingly to that twin." The other girl butted in her response that made everyone giggle.

The conversation about the twins continued to echo through the room. But the gossip didn't provide you a distraction to somehow momentarily divert your attention from the ever-present worry of Penelope's wrath.

As the chatter among the girls grew louder, you met Valkyrie's glare at them through your mirror, you gulped nervously. The girls didn't even notice and still continued their gossip sesh.

With a voice that demanded attention, she bellowed, "Out! Now! The show starts in 3!" The girls were startled at Valkyrie's commanding presence, immediately quieting down and walking their way through the door.

When the girls were finally out, you let out a sigh. But you were taken aback when Valkyrie approached you.

"You gonna perform tonight?" She asked with a soft tone as if she wasn't screaming at the top of her lungs to the girls earlier.

"No, just gonna serve some drinks for a while and is it okay if I leave early?" You asked nervously.

"Sure, there are so many girls this evening. I'm sure they can occupy the club all night." Valkyrie patted your shoulders before making her way out.

"Oh fuck I should've asked if I could have a night off tonight." You muttered to yourself burying your face in your hands, at this point you're considering leaving, leaving this club, this work for good.

You get yourself dressed, a black leather spaghetti strap exposing your cleavage, the length is 5 inches above your knees. And a knee-boots matching your dress.

You grabbed your pocket knife and placed it inside of your left boot. You took a quick glance to yourself in the mirror before you hurried towards the hall wishing everything to be over tonight.

You entered the bustling club. Gulping nervously, you tried to push aside your anxiety and focus on your shift at the bar. You were lucky it's Sam's shift tonight.

You could literally hear the hammering sound of your chest despite the loud banging sound of the club. Your eyes landed at the halls of the private rooms and remembered the encounter you had with Natasha, the memory somehow made your anxiety tone down.

"Hey baby girl, servin' drinks tonight?" Sam playfully raised his brow to you as you sat at the bar stool. He was already making some drinks.

"Yeah, but I'll leave early." You muttered. He just hummed in response.

"Hmkay, this for the twins," Sam slid the tray of drinks towards you, "They're over there," he pointed towards the VIP balcony section, you couldn't see the twins but you could clearly see the girls surrounding the area, vying for their attention.

Your heart races as you observe the crowded area, anxious creeping again to your nerves. You glanced back at Sam, who gave you an encouraging at the same time commanding nod, signaling you to go ahead. He's up to making the second batch of the drinks.

Taking a deep breath, you carefully maneuvered through the crowd trying to maintain your composure. Your focus was shattered when your eyes accidentally landed with Penelope. Fear flashed before your eyes as you locked gazes with her. She didn't glare at you or give you a piercing look that can literally kill but she smiled at you, a smile that sent a cold shiver to your whole body.

You carefully made your way through the crowd, holding the tray with the drinks exclusive for the Maximoff twins. You tried to fit yourself in the swarm of girls around them. As you approached their table, you saw the twins with girls sitting beside them. You saw the older one, offering his cigarette to the girl in his arms. And when you looked at the younger twin's gaze it was fixated on you, she made the girls beside her stand immediately and the girls frowned and whined. The younger one signaled you over.

"Hi, krasivaya." (Beautiful) She leaned properly at the sofa and stretched her arms on top of it.

You looked at her as she said those unfamiliar words, language you're not familiar with, but she just smirked at the sight of you. As you finished putting the drinks on their table you looked at the twins again, the older one still flirting at the girls and the younger one never removed her gaze on you. She patted the seat beside her, signaling you to sit. But you declined by offering her a polite smile and slight bow.

She was captivated by your aloofness. "Pretty please?" She purred, her voice was low and rasp, laced with seduction. The way her eyes seemed to dance with mischief and her voice dripped with confidence, it was clear she was used to getting what she wanted.

Her behavior, though seemingly casual, held a hint of possessiveness that unsettled you. You just smiled shyly, hoping that it would send a clear message of disinterest. When you were about to get the tray she quickly grabbed your wrist making you stumble closer to her. Her brother glanced at you with her sister's sudden action but he paid no mind and turned his attention back to flirting. You gasped in shock at what she did. You slightly tried to pull your arm back, but her hold was strong and unyielding.

The younger twin's eyes were drawn to you, trailing a path along your body, subtly checking you out. Her eyes trailed up to your knees, your exposed cleavage where she bit her lower lip at the sight, your neck, until she met your eyes. When she saw how nervous you were, a smirk creeped out on her face. She caressed her thumb over your wrist before letting you go.

Without lingering for too long, you swiftly and awkwardly made your way out. You could literally feel the piercing gaze of the other girls, you just walked past them trying to maintain your composure despite the internal turmoil caused by the younger twin's attention.

When you were out of her sight she signaled the other girls standing not so far but inside their VIP area to leave. They quickly went downstairs, hoping that their obedience would grant them some award from the twins later.

"I want that one, Piet," she leaned back again at the sofa as she tapped her finger against it patiently.

Pietro sighed as he looked at her sister. He patted the legs of the girls sitting beside him and signaled them to leave. When they finally left, Pietro circled to the table and stood in front of her sister, arms crossed, "Wanda…you literally didn't tell me the whereabouts of the girl I brought you for a gift at the Red Room before and now you want another?"

"Don't worry, I made her feel good before burying her to the ground," She said in a low tone with a smirk, not looking at his brother, "If she wasn't so bitchy at me maybe I would have considered treating her nice…but she didn't." Wanda finally looked up at him, a smile creeping in her face with her eyes cold—dead cold.

"Ya khochu yeye…"(I want her…) Her eyes crazily transitioned to a pleading gaze with a glimmer of desperation, trying to convince her brother with those eyes and soft voice, "Pozhaluysta…brat?" (Please…brother?)

Pietro just sighed before making his way downstairs where he was swarmed by so many girls that were trying to please him.

A smirk spread across Wanda's face. She brought the hand she used when she grabbed you up to her nose and sniffed the lingering scent that she rubbed off of you.

"Ne mogu dozhdat'sya, kogda ty stanesh' moyey, miloye lichiko." (I can't wait for you to be mine, pretty face).

⧗

You let out a deep breath as you sat at the bar stool again, "Fuck," you muttered to yourself.

You couldn't help but feel bothered by your interaction with the younger Maximoff twin, Wanda. Despite your clear rejection, the intensity of her gaze left a lingering impression on your mind. You would be lying if you said you weren't fluttered by it. But it stirred up a bottle of emotions within you, causing a whirlwind of thoughts and unease.

"So, how was it serving the twins?" Sam suddenly asked as he walked across you.

You tried to hide your uneasiness, offering a forced smile, "Oh, they seemed to be enjoying themselves."

Sam chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I heard they can be quite the handful. Did they give you any trouble?"

You quickly shook your head. "No, not at all. They were just like any other…patrons, guests, nothing noteworthy."

Sam noticed your lingering unease and decided to intervene, wanting to offer you some comfort. He reached for a bottle on the shelf behind the bar, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

"I can see that you're a bit on edge. How about I make you a special drink? It's my own concoction, and trust me, it can work wonders in calming nerves." Sam said in a soothing tone.

Curiosity mixed with a tinge of hesitation, you looked at Sam, considering his offer. You were tempted by the idea of something that could soothe your nervous state at this moment even though you don't actually drink when you work.

"What's in it?" You asked, your voice betraying you with curiosity.

Sam winked playfully, "Ah, now that's a secret recipe. But I can tell you it's a blend of some smooth liquors, infused with a touch of my special magic to help melt away your worries."

Your lips curved into a small smile. "How can I say no to a free drink? But you know the rule, keep it light. I don't wanna get wasted tonight."

"Keep it light it is!" You watched as Sam skillfully mixed the ingredients, his hands moving with practiced precision. The scent of the drink filled the air, a delicate aroma that promised a momentary escape from your anxieties.

As Sam passed the glass to you, he offered a warm smile. "Here you go Y/N. Take a sip and let the worries melt away."

"Thanks, Sammy," You took the glass, feeling a sense of gratitude for Sam's thoughtful gesture. You brought it to your lips and took a tentative sip, feeling the smooth warmth of the liquid wash over her palate. It was a unique blend of flavors, both comforting and exhilarating.

Sam nodded, "I'll just keep the drinks up." You watch him disappear as he makes his way to the room inside the bar.

As you waited for him patiently, you saw a figure walking in the crowd. A figure you were trying to avoid: Penelope, she was carrying two drinks both in her hands.

Your nerves were once again on edge as you realized that Penelope was walking towards you. The overwhelming urge to flee, to escape from the gaze of someone who seemed to possess an uncanny ability to make you feel unsafe, unease. Yet, you knew that running away would only draw attention to your nervous state right now, and you didn't want Penelope to suspect that you're avoiding her.

Just pretend you don't know anything, you didn't do anything, Y/N. You know your place…right? Right?

In a blink of an eye she was already in front of you. To your surprise, she didn't welcome you with wrath or aggression as you were expecting. Instead, she smiled at you, her expression almost unnerving.

"Have a drink with me." Her tone was soft but sounded more like a…threat. She handed the Martini glass to you.

You were caught off guard and afraid to refuse, you nodded timidly as you took the drink out of her hand. Your instinct told you that something was amiss, it was unusual for Penelope to invite the other girls she worked with for drinks. But you don't have time to think about anything right now, you wanted yourself out of her sight, you just wanted to get out of her way.

Your fingers trembled around the glass. You took a glance at the drink, the liquid swirled in the glass, its contents mirrored the nervous look of your face. As the liquid touched your lips, a subtle wince escaped you. The taste was bitter, leaving an unpleasant sensation on your tongue. Your eyes instinctively flickered towards Penelope, who wore a smirk that sent shivers down your spine.

"Enjoying the night?" She asked as she glanced around the club before looking back at you.

"Uhh…well, I'm a worker here. I don't enjoy or anything. I just work, you know." You shrug awkwardly as you play with the Martini glass.

"Ah, so you know your place?" She immediately shot back, her eyes locked with yours, and the intensity of that gaze and how she shot her words made it clear that this interaction was far from casual. There was an eerie satisfaction in Penelope's expression, as if she relished in your discomfort, reveling in the power she held over you.

Your heartbeat quickened, your instincts urging you to retreat from Penelope's gaze. But you knew that showing weakness or fear would only fuel Penelope's predatory nature. So, with a quiet resolve, you held your ground, concealing your nervousness and fear behind a veil of composure.

A familiar figure not so far behind her back was looking at you intently. You didn't know why you gulped nervously and why your heart started hammering so heavy in your chest. You looked again at Penelope, she is now smiling creepily in your liking. When you glanced over her shoulder again the figure was long gone.

A sudden wave of dizziness washed over you, causing the room to spin. Panic surged through your veins as your vision started to get blurred and your knees weakened.

"I'm just gonna…" you rested your arm at the countertop of the bar as you tried to stand on the ground.

In that moment of vulnerability, Penelope seemed to anticipate your distress. With an eerie calmness, she swiftly moved closer and cupped your left cheek. The gesture was both unexpected and unsettling, as if Penelope had foreseen this very outcome.

"Oh, you feeling dizzy?" She said with a mocking soft voice.

Your head felt heavy, your thoughts muddled by the dizziness that clouded your senses. You couldn't help but wonder if Penelope had orchestrated this, if the drink had been laced with something more than just alcohol. The realization made you dead cold, and a surge of fear coursed through your system.

"I didn't know that drug would get to you that easily, you poor thing…"

She steadied you with a firm grip on your arm. She started guiding you to walk, enough to make anyone that would see that you're pretty wasted for tonight which is very unusual. You don't drink when you're working, serving or performing, you don't get yourself wasted.

Your steps became unsteady, your reliance on Penelope's support growing with each passing moment. It was as if Penelope held the key to your stability. You glanced back over to the bar and saw Sam looking at the place where he left you, he was looking over the club trying to look for a sign of you but Penelope quickly shoved you forward when she noticed you looking back.

In the midst of your disorientation, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being ensnared, trapped within Penelope's web. Your senses screamed with caution, urging you to break free from Penelope's grip, but the dizziness held you captive, leaving you vulnerable to her embrace.

When the crowd was out of your sight, that's when she started dragging you. She took a handful of your hair and pushed you forward as you walked.

The deafening music and dim lighting obscured your path, making it easier for Penelope to guide you towards an unmarked door tucked away in a secluded hall of the club.

"I told you to know your place, didn't I?" She whispered with heaviness in her tone, you could now feel her anger that you know she has been suppressing since earlier. "I made it clear, right? Y/N?"

Your voice already died in your throat as soon as you saw her earlier, you couldn't speak or scream. You tried removing her hand out of your hair, but she just shoved you forward making you stumble as you walked. Now your vision started to flicker, to die, the edges of your consciousness blurring with each passing second.

Penelope threw you towards a dark room, you weren't sure if it was the room that was dark or it was your vision getting darker. You couldn't help but fall to your knees. You tried looking at the door where the only light comes in. You saw two figures shadowing over you, you're sure that Penelope is one of those. By the sound of it, it seems like the other person is a man. You strained to catch fragments of the conversation between them but their conversation remained muffled and indistinct.

"Here," The man faced her as he grabbed his bag and took a handful of cash.

"I want more than this…okay?" Penelope seductively said as she took the wad of cash the unknown man handed her, "And I know you do too…" she tugged the leather jacket of the man properly.

The man just chuckled, "Do you wanna watch?" He asked her as he made his way towards you.

"That bitch stole what's mine however as much as I want to…" Penelope counted the cash in her hands, "I have to get myself ready, for later…" she smirked as the man turned to look at her leaning at the door. "Meet me after?"

"I will." The man said before kneeling in front of you.

Penelope's shadow left the room. Now, you know that it's only the two of you. The man's menacing presence loomed over the room.

"I want to have a good time with that chic so I'll make this quick and easy for you." The man said as he stood and took something from his bag.

He knelt again and the sound of a metal clinked to the ground made you flinch. He gripped your jaw, you tried to take a good look at him but you couldn't because your sight is completely dark now. He tightened his grip when you tried to move away from his touch. You also tried biting his thumb when you felt it brushing your mouth but he quickly shoved you. You tried everything but it wasn't enough.

"Don't make me do anything bad to you." He growled, his voice laced with venom. He stood and started to circle around you.

Your eyes shut when you felt something burning in your back, you hissed in pain. When he was back in front of you again, he took a handful of your hair, he started speaking but you couldn't get a word with what he's saying.

"Just one…" he breathed before slapping you that sent you to the ground. Tears started to stream down your face, you tried to blink them away but you couldn't. The room was filled with your muffled cries.

The man gripped your arm and forcefully led you out of the room. "Walk like nothing happened," he commanded, his voice carrying an implicit warning. You saw his blurred figure walking away, leaving you alone in the hall.

With each step you took, your body felt heavy, weighed down by what happened and the lingering dizziness. Anytime at this point you could literally pass out. Your eyes tried scanning your surroundings but you could only see a light invading your sight, you don't know where you're going, you don't know how long you have been walking.

You tried to lean over the wall to support your body when somebody caught you.

⧗

"You keep your eyes towards the entrance," Natasha commanded Bucky.

Bucky chuckled, "What are we on a mission? But not gonna lie, I missed this." Natasha didn't mind whatsoever he was saying as she exited the car.

"He—Where are you going?" Bucky shouted, he flinched when Natasha slammed the car door, "Damn, good thing I didn't offer to use my car…"

Natasha swiftly walked while her mind raced as she retraced her steps, recalling the hidden passage you led her before. Natasha's heart pounded in her chest as she opened the door, its creaking sound made her wince but luckily no one was guarding there.

And there, she hurriedly walked to the dimly lit hall, Natasha's eyes fell upon you, your body slumped and weakened—relying on the wall as if your life depended on it. Natasha quickly rushed to your side, catching you before you completely collapsed. Concern etched across her face, she gently cradled your head, her touch infused with tenderness and concern.

"Y/N," Natasha whispered, her voice filled with worry and anger. "Who did this to you?" She placed her palm to the reddening mark on your cheek, wiping the trail of your wet tears. She doesn't want to know what happened, what she did want is to know who did this to you.

Your eyes fluttered open, your gaze meeting Natasha's concerned eyes. In that moment, your voice trembled, your words strained. You finally mustered to say a word—her name, after being shut, "Natasha?" you breathed heavily, your eyes were getting glassy at the sight of her, "Please...just…don't do anything, don't get yourself hurt…" you managed to utter before your strength gave way and you finally slipped into unconsciousness.

A surge of anger coursed through Natasha's veins, her jaw clenching as she stared at your unconscious form and when she heard your plea not to do anything. The pain and helplessness she felt were finally getting into her. She reached for her phone and dialed Bucky.

"Get the car at the back of the club, just go straight and turn left. You'll find me there."

Bucky quickly started the car and slowly approached the area, he saw Natasha emerge from the depths of the private door, carrying you in her arms. He quickly made his way out of the car and ran at Natasha to get you but Natasha denied his help, at this point Natasha doesn't want anyone to touch you except her. So Bucky made a quick turn to the car and held the car door open. Natasha carefully settled you at the backseat of her car. She removed her leather jacket placing it on your exposed upper chest, she cupped your cheek one last time before closing the door.

Bucky stayed behind Natasha as he watched her position you properly in the car. He was worried but before he could ask what happened, Natasha's words cut through the air.

"Meet me at the entrance," she instructed, her voice leaving no room for argument.

"What are you going to do Nat?" He asked with his tensed and worried voice, he watched Natasha make heavy strides at the private door of the club again.

Natasha slammed the door after her, not minding looking at him.

"Business."

⧗

Bucky's eyes darted between the road ahead and the unconscious form of you in the backseat. Concern showing in his face as he navigated the car through the main entrance of the club. His focus is divided between driving safely and keeping an eye on you. As he parked not so far from the club, he caught sight of movement near the main entrance.

As Bucky glanced in that direction, his gaze locked onto the Maximoff twins being escorted out.

Their reactions varied. Wanda, the younger twin wore a look of defiance, her eyes flashing with anger but her composure is still refusing to show any signs of vulnerability.

"I. can. walk. my. self." She shoved her index finger in every word aiming at the shoulder of the bouncer.

The older twin Pietro, displayed a different reaction. A smirk played along the corners of his lips, as if he found the whole ordeal rather amusing. He maintained a nonchalant demeanor, his quick wit and confident aura made it evident that he was not easily shaken by them being escorted out. Pietro grabbed his sister and walked her towards their luxury car, when he had already settled his sister in the car he came back to the bouncer and spat some threats to his face.

Bucky watched them cautiously until their vehicles were out of his sight. He glanced at the side mirror and saw Natasha walking towards the car, she opened the door and swiftly slipped into the backseat. Natasha carefully cradled your head in her lap.

"I saw the Maximoff twins getting a walk of shame," he glanced at Natasha through the rearview mirror before starting the engine of the car. But she didn't meet his gaze, she didn't even bother to hear what he just said, her attention is focused on soothing your sleeping form.

"What did you do Nat?" Bucky's tone is now commanding for answers rather than asking.

Natasha's expression remained composed, her eyes still on you, and her index finger caressing your cheek.

"I bought the club."

Secrets Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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thewidowsledger · 1 year ago

Text

Secrets Behind Our Dreams

Chapter 6: Sweet Dreams | 3.9k

Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Female Reader

Tags | Warnings: None (Warnings or none, minors do not interact; this is an 18+ series fiction)

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

"Can I get a private show?"

You're internally shaking, switching your glance over the unconscious body lying on the floor and Natasha. You didn't even notice the wad of cash she flashed on you.

"Y-yeah, well…w-well, I-uhh…" you want to call a bouncer but where are they when you need them most?! Why is this place lacking bouncers tonight? Other nights when you work aren't like this. Is this club facing bankruptcy or something? You glanced at Natasha and she just gave you a playful smirk with a hint of a concerned look.

You know your place, you keep reminding yourself.

"Y/N, know your place. Got that?" Penelope's threat keeps echoing in your head.

You have no choice now, but you are quick to make a plan.

"This way."

You walked your way out of the balcony. At this point you were praying internally that no one would notice you with this woman behind your back, especially Penelope.

You nervously led Natasha to the bar, she noticed how you asked the bartender where the private rooms are. It was because you had never been to that place.

"Damn, you do private shows now I see." Sam smirked as he glanced over at Natasha, his eyes suddenly traveled in her bloody hands. "Oh shit," He looked at you with worried eyes and you just gave him an 'I know right' look, you were a little shaken and he could clearly see it, he slowly placed his hands over the counter top of the bar, "You okay? Do you want me to—"

"No, Sam. I'm fine, " you reached his hands and he pointed you to the halls where the private rooms are. "Thanks, Sammy."

As you walked through the hall, your heart started to pound heavily, wishing she didn't hear any of it. You chose the room in the end of the hall and opened the thick curtains for Natasha to get inside.

"Here, I-uhh…I'm going to go to Penelope so—"

"Penelope?" Natasha didn't let you finish.

"Yeah, I-I uhh, well she told me that she's booked tonight and…I saw her earlier…with you so—"

"I don't want her." Natasha once again didn't let you finish. She threw herself at the sofa.

This was the first time you heard someone say that they don't like Penelope. In a soft whisper to yourself, you mused, "Everybody wants Penelope…"

"Well, I don't." Natasha interrupted your thoughts this time.

You were shocked at her reply and her tone when she said it was a plain reply but heavy, you didn't even realize that she heard you talk to yourself. To hide your embarrassment you crossed your arms, hoping you looked intimidating, "Why'd you book her then?"

"I didn't. My friend did, he booked her for me." Natasha chuckled at your question and at your sudden change of behavior.

"Well, why didn't you—"

"Because…" Natasha leaned her back against the sofa properly, "I don't like her. I did consider my friends' offer. But I said that if I like her, then I will have her, but I didn't so…I promise, I don't like her."

Well, she didn't let you finish again, for the third time.

"I didn't ask you if you like her…" You frowned, muttering to yourself. She just chuckled at you.

You watched her figure sitting comfortably in the leather sofa, her legs wide open, her right arm straightened at the top as her bloody and bruised fingertips tapped the sofa. You gulped nervously at the sight of her, your face heating up like a burning kettle.

You're fucked up, you don't do private shows. You haven't even experienced getting to anyone's lap. Not ever. You didn't sign up to any of this. The plan was, once you get her here, you go get Penelope after so they could have…their planned shit. Although you hated the idea of it.

But right now the only thing you know is…you are fucking screwed.

You know your place, now you're lost.

You stood straight in front of her, you have no choice now. You waited for her signal for you to start.

"Well, why don't you sit because you've been standing there for what seems like hours." She glanced up at you.

"Sit?" You asked her dumbly, "You don't want me to…" You immediately brushed off the thoughts you were thinking earlier as you sat across her, "Of course thank you."

At least she won't let you do a lap dance for her…or maybe she wanted more than that? Fuck.

"Got a name?" She asked, breaking the silence between the two of you.

Your eyes were glued to her bruised and bloody hands. A deep sense of concern welling up inside you. You noticed how veiny her hands were, your eyes trailed up to her broad shoulders, up to her jaw until you met her eyes. You almost swallowed your tongue, "I uhh, It's Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N."

Natasha chuckled when she noticed that you just checked her out, "Hm, Y/N Y/L/N..." she repeated in sa soft tone.

"Can you wait here?" You quickly asked.

"What? Why?" Now she was alarmed at your question as if she doesn't want you to go anywhere.

"I'm going to get my bag, so I can..." You hesitantly pointed her hand but your voice laced with sincerity.

"Oh, this is nothing. I've had the wor—I mean no need, I can handle this. I'm fi—"

"Please, my conscience won't let me sleep." You're the one who didn't let her finish this time. You reminded her of the same words she said the night the two of you met. When she asked to walk you home because her conscience won't let her sleep if she didn't. "I promise, I'll come back."

Natasha glanced away at you, crossing her arms together, "Go…"

You felt a slight pain with her reply, "Don't squeeze your hand please." You told her and pointed at her right hand.

"Oh, I-okay," Natasha watched as you walked out to the room leaving her alone.

⧗

As you entered the room, you found yourself alone. There are no other girls in here, you reminded yourself. You quickly untied the lace of your heels and kicked them away. You didn't have time to undress, so you just grabbed your jogging pants and quickly put them on. You were panicking and stumbling with every step as you circled the room.

As you made your way out you snatched the heels from the ground and stuffed it in your bag as you walked to the hallway. Your gaze fell upon the private exit, your initial instinct was to walk away. Your mind was debating for a second, you hated it. But your empathy outweighed your desire to leave. You gave her your word, you promised to come back.

The cold air of the club welcomed you as you entered, you groaned as you forgot where you placed your windbreaker jacket. Not wanting to throw any tantrum, you slightly ducked and tiptoed your way to the bar so no one would notice you.

"Damn, you look like shit!" Sam was startled by your presence.

"I know," You are wearing your dress earlier as your top, jogging pants, and your pink slides as your slippers. One strap of your backpack clinging on your right shoulder. You really do look like shit right now. "Give me a shot of Lemon-drop please."

Sam playfully raised an eyebrow, teasing you about your preference, "Still a baby I see," he jested, knowing it was not the strongest or most potent of alcohol, "Give me a sec baby girl. And by the way how's the show going?"

"Eww Sam! Shut it, I already gave you a sec, give me my shot!" You rolled your eyes on him. "And there is no show, okay." You muttered to yourself with a childish-like tone.

"Lemon-drop for the baby girl." Sam handed you your drink with a wink.

You raised your glass in a mock defiance, joining in the banter. "Cheers to keeping it light for the baby girl!"

"Speaking of keeping it light, what happened earlier wasn't light," Sam suddenly gave you a warning at the same time concerned look, "There were a couple of scary gals that went over the balcony, they exited with a mushed-bloody-faced guy. You take care, Y/N. And the lady you're with."

The heat in your throat caused by your drink was replaced with a sudden cold, "Yeah…thanks Sammy. Keep my drink on that woman's tab. Her name is Natasha."

"Okay baby girl!" Sam shouted, laughing as he watched you rush over the private rooms. You just gave him a finger while clutching your backpack.

⧗

As you walk to the hall you couldn't help but think about what happened earlier, why would you need to take care of yourself? It's normal to have a fight in the club, for sure that guy would forget that it happened. You were blinded with that thought in your mind.

You opened the curtains you found Natasha sitting still on the sofa.

"I thought you ditched me," she said not looking at you as she picked the bruises in her knuckles.

"Don't do that!" You swat her hands away from her bruised knuckles as you rushed and knelt in front of her.

Feeling a sense of panic rising within you, you quickly grabbed your bag from behind, and frantically started rummaging through your stuff.

Your heart raced as you desperately searched for your pouch where you put some medical aids. With a flicker of desperation, you grasped the bottom of your bag firmly and turned it upside down. Your stuff spilled out onto the ground, scattering in disarray. Your make-up kit, loose change, the heels you wore earlier during the performance, rolled and clinked against each other, but your focus remained on finding your pouch.

"Sorry about that," you mumbled, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Natasha just chuckled at the sight of you. And her focus suddenly turned on to something—a thing that was clattered in front of her.

Finally, amidst the chaos, your eyes landed on the small, fabric pouch you had been desperately searching for. You swiftly retrieved it from the mess and held it up triumphantly, almost like a child who had just found their lost toy.

Your frustration was evident as you grasped the pouch, only to find a lone bandaids staring back at you. You sighed in disappointment, realizing that it was not nearly enough to properly cover Natasha's bruised knuckles.

"Great, Y/N. Fucking great." You mumbled to yourself.

"I-uh, here. This is the only thing I have, give me your hand so I…" You extended your hand towards Natasha, silently requesting her injured hands.

Natasha gave you her bruised hands without a second.

You were slightly shaking when you held it. Her hands were slender and graceful, with long, tapered fingers that seemed to possess a natural elegance. The skin was smooth and flawless.

As you worked, you found yourself captivated by the feel of Natasha's hands, its warmth, strength and comfort beneath your own.

Know your effing place, Y/N...

You were lucky she didn't notice you almost squirming while tending her wounds and you also didn't notice that it was because Natasha was focusing on something else.

"Here, y'go. Done. I'm sorry that is the on—"

"Tell me more about it, " she suddenly asked, her eyes still focused on something beside you.

I swear to the love of Goddess of War if this woman interrupted me again, I'm going to kiss her. Wh—kiss?! Y/N…know your place for fucksake!

You immediately released your hold of her hand shaking away your thoughts messing in your mind. You turned your focus on your mess lying on the ground as you anxiously picked up your backpack and stuffed your things inside.

"What are you talking about?"

You didn't know that Natasha has been looking at your pointe shoe the whole time.

"Your dreams."

You gripped the shoe before stuffing it on your backpack, you were feeling embarrassed because of the stitches it had on it.

"That's just it..."

When you didn't get a reply from her you decided to take a slight glance on what she is doing, just a slight. As you looked up at Natasha, you saw a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. She was examining her hand.

She actually heard your response but she just didn't want you to feel like she's pushing you to tell her more about it.

Natasha's gaze focused on the bandaid, adorned with a playful teddy bear design, and she couldn't help but find it cute. Find you cute.

"I'm sorry about that, I bought that on sale…" you sheepishly apologized.

Unbeknownst to you, Natasha found your frustration endearing and your genuine desire to help comforting. In Natasha's mind, your actions and the way you reacted to the situation only added to her already growing fondness for you.

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

Natasha's unexpected invitation caught you off guard. You hesitated for a moment, your mind filled with caution and the awareness that Natasha was still a stranger to you. But something with her, sparked a sense of intrigue within you; plus you badly wanted to get out of this place.

After a brief moment of contemplation, you found herself nodding in agreement.

With a nod, you guided Natasha out through the halls of the private room. When you made it to the club you ducked in an instant as you passed the bar so no one would notice you sneaking around, you giggled when Natasha mirrored your action.

You led her towards a private entrance and exit door of the club, a gateway to escape the vibrant chaos and slip into the night undetected. The same door you didn't expect to exit with a patron from the club.

As you both stepped out into the cool night air, a sense of liberation washed over you.

Natasha glanced at you as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. She was once again mesmerized by you.

"So, this is where you also enter the club?" She suddenly asked, trying to act normal after staring at you for too long.

"Yeah..." You responded not looking at her, your hands sliding in your pants pocket.

Her answers as to why she didn't find you going into the club a few weeks ago was now answered, but maybe if she considered Bucky's idea of entering the club she could've found you sooner.

You broke the silence slash awkwardness between you, "Well…I'll go now, thank you for…" You don't actually know why you're thanking her, "Everything?" You were embarrassed with your statement, your cheeks are now again burning hot.

"Wait, let me walk you home again. Please, a thank you for…" Natasha raised her right hand with your teddy bear bandaids around it, "This."

You found her cute when she did it, the contrast between her toughness and mysterious persona and the cuteness of the bandaid brought a smile to your face. You shook your head with a chuckle.

"I insist on walking you home. Please...my conscience won't le—"

"Let you sleep, yeah." You finished her statement with a slight smirk creeping in your lips.

You started walking ahead of her, but she didn't follow you as you didn't answer her asking your permission if she could walk you home again.

"Are you coming or what!" You shouted, turning at her.

You giggled when she started walking running towards you, when you saw her nearing you turned to start walking again.

You both walked together through the quiet streets, the cool night breeze gently brushing against your skin. There was a palpable sense of silence, an unspoken tension between you, mingled with a burgeoning comfort that eased the initial awkwardness. You both didn't feel the need to fill the silence with words, instead allowing your shared presence to speak volumes.

As you both walked through the chilly night, you couldn't help but shiver, your arms wrapping around yourself in an attempt to ward off the cold. You also tried not to make Natasha notice that you're cold.

But still Natasha noticed your discomfort and, without hesitation, she stopped her pace, and began unbuttoning her suit jacket.

"Oh, no, no, no…"

But she already removed it.

Your eyes widened when she closed the distance between you, you could literally feel her breath as she took your backpack. You immediately turned your head away when she started wrapping her suit around you.

"You look like you could use some extra warmth." She said tugging the suit properly on you.

"And you'll be the one getting cold now." You protested with a frown.

"I'll be fine. You need it more than I do." Natasha smiled gently as she took a step back, she clung one of the straps of your backpack to her shoulder.

You felt the jacket's warmth envelop you. The fabric carried the faint scent of Natasha's perfume, adding a touch of intimacy to the gesture.

"Thank you," you murmured, a soft smile gracing your lips.

Natasha simply nodded with a satisfied look, her own attire offering little protection from the cold. She shrugged off the concern, focusing instead on the way her suit suited you, enhancing your beauty. It was a small sacrifice for a fleeting moment of shared warmth.

As you both continued to walk, now wrapped again with a gentle silence, the exchange of warmth fostering a sense of closeness. You still feel some curiosity and mystery towards Natasha, but at the same time her presence makes you comfortable, at ease as if you knew her for a very long time.

"I uhh, I actually don't live on…wherever block I told you last time." You revealed, breaking the silence.

"And I think we just passed that block and we didn't even noticed," You turned to look back with a chuckle, an awkward one.

"Oh…" Natasha's expression remained unreadable, but her eyes showed a flicker of understanding at the same time embarrassment.

Another question was once again answered, but of course Natasha didn't want you to know that she had her men scattered on the block you said you live in or how she checked each studio in that area. You don't even know what she really is…

The truth could wait for now…

"Yeah, I actually live at 890 Fifth Ave." You said, not daring to look at her.

"Oh, so you need to get to the train? That's like three stations away from here right?" She asked, glancing at you.

"Yeah…" You nodded, looking at your feet as you walked. Guilt consuming you, "We're actually heading there now, just a few walks and we're at the station. But I can han—"

"Did you get home safe that night?" You shot your eyes towards her, you were stunned by her concern. You didn't even care that she stopped you once again from talking when you tried to say that you can walk yourself to the station. You expected her to be disappointed or cold but…she wasn't.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't." You shrugged and smiled at her sheepishly.

It's just a simple thing. Everyone can lie about where they live, people even have fake names when they're out in public, and she was a stranger and still is a stranger but you felt guilty about it.

But… is she still a stranger? Was she ever a stranger to you?

The train station was nearing, Natasha's heart sank. The thought of never seeing you again weighed heavily on her mind, creating a sense of unease she couldn't ignore. Even though she already knows where you truly live, she felt a bittersweet pang of reluctance, not wanting to let go of the moment she had with you.

"If you…ever had any dreams or came up with any dreams. Would you mind…telling them to me?" Natasha couldn't help but suddenly ask. Wishing she didn't cross any lines.

You were taken aback by the question, "Why would I do that?" you gave her a mocking fake gasp and let out a faint laugh—almost an evil laugh catching Natasha off guard.

Natasha's brows furrowed, her mind trying to comprehend your response. She let out a nervous chuckle as she felt embarrassed, thinking she went too far.

But then, a mischievous glimmer danced in your eyes, "You have an obsession with my dreams, Natasha." You playfully teased her.

She shivered when her name came out of your mouth. She was stoned at the moment with her cheeks reddening, and her voice was dying inside her throat.

You noticed how nervous she'd gotten. And you were satisfied with how nervous you made her be, "I was just playing with you."

Natasha sighed as you revealed your playful intent. The tension that had momentarily built up dissipated, replaced by a lighthearted atmosphere between you. Natasha couldn't help but smile at the clever way you had deflected her question.

"But okay...I will." You smiled, glancing to take a good look at her, "I'd love that…"

The surprise on Natasha's face was unmistakable as she struggled to process the unexpected turn of events. She hadn't anticipated that you would agree to telling her your dreams so readily, particularly after your initial response. She couldn't help but beam with happiness as she took a glance at you.

"It's not like there are other people that wants to hear them, you know…" your voice almost cracked. You looked away, trying to blink the threats of the incoming tears in your eyes.

"I…I love hearing them." Natasha muttered, but you didn't hear it as the sound of the incoming train invaded your ears.

The train arrived in a soft hiss.

"Well, I guess this is my train." You faced her, "May I?" You pointed sheepishly at your bag.

"Oh, yeah. Here." Natasha quickly removed the strap of the bag out of her shoulder and handed the bag to you gently.

You were about to return the suit back to Natasha, but she immediately reached out and took hold of the suit, her hand grazing on yours in the process.

But instead of taking the suit back, Natasha's gaze locked with you. Without hesitating, she closed the distance between you, her movements swift yet gentle.

"Keep it," Natasha carefully tugged the suit properly on your shoulders, her touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Her hands moved with a tenderness, adjusting the fabric to ensure it sat comfortably on your frame. As she did, Natasha's fingertips slightly brushed against your exposed chest, sending a faint electric tingle through your own body. "It looks better on you anyway."

The station announcer's voice resonated through the bustling train station, signaling imminent departure and last call for the passengers. The countdown had begun, a few people around you hastened their steps, heading the call and making their way towards the train. The urgency filled the air, accompanied by the sound of footsteps.

Yet, you both remained rooted in place, face to face. Unwilling to part ways.

You instinctively took a step back, a slight shyness washed over you, causing you to avert Nastasha's gaze momentarily.

The open door of the train station seemed to beckon you, urging you to walk in.

You turned to walk through the door but a surge of emotion overwhelmed you. You closed your eyes in a moment while taking a deep breath, you gripped the strap of your backpack like your life depended on it.

Know your place, Y/N.

Know your place

Natasha's eyes widened in surprise, her heart skipping a beat when you rushed back at her and placed a swift yet tender kiss on her cheek.

"Bye, Natasha."

Secrets Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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