scarletwidowsbaby - Tumblr blog

[scarletwidowsbaby]

happy april fools. please take this egg

hahahahahha………………..

youve been fooled………………by the april fools beeper……………..it was a fully grown bird the entire time…..no egg………………it tells u it hopes u hav a good april 1st

[scarletwidowsbaby]

The Greetings

Pairing: Mobboss!WandaNat x Fem!Reader

Summary: After viewing numerous pets without finding any that sparked their interest, Natasha finally encounters you — an untrained mutt.

Contents: Dark themes, human trafficking, heavy pet play, face slapping, gagging, gun threats, throat-fucking, death threats, mentions of torture, suggestions of abuse, bruising, being kept in kennels.

a/n: this is the first part of the series :3 this series may or may not be abandoned but we'll see how long my motivation lasts for.

Unbreakable Ties Masterlist

The loud footsteps that echoed around the hallway made you shove yourself into the corner of your kennel. You were used to hearing loud footsteps, but these ones were unfamiliar, and that scared you.

“Please, Ms. Romanoff. These ones are untrained, let me show you to our next holding section,” The desperate pleas of your seller only increased your fear.

The footsteps came to a halt.

“I thought I made myself clear. We are looking for something very specific, and we do not care for how untrained it is. Do you understand me, or will I have to repeat myself for a third time?”

The voice was of a woman. Her tone was clipped and full of irritation.

“Yes, I understand. Apologises,”

You heard the familiar noise of a kennel being unlocked and the woman’s quiet remarks. You assumed she didn’t want that pet as she let out a huff before the loud slam of the cage door.

She checked many other pets, gaining the same reaction as the last. It wasn’t until she stepped in front of your kennel that you could finally get a good look at her.

You could tell by her appearance that she was rich and important. She wore a dark black suit and her hair sat neatly above her shoulders. There was so much confidence and power radiating off her. Your seller looked like a puny piece of meat standing next to her.

Your kennel was unlocked, and the woman stepped inside. You shoved your naked body further into the corner.

The woman crouched in front of you, slowly checking you over. She grabbed onto your arm, running her fingers over your dark bruises. She pushed down slightly, making you cry out in discomfort. She smiled at that.

Her fingers tapped your chin, “Open,”

Your eyes narrowed at her request and your jaw stayed in place.

She didn’t like that. She gripped painfully tight on your chin, “Open your mouth,”

You complied with a small grumble.

She checked over your teeth, making sure everything was healthy – which it was. She surprised you when she shoved two fingers down your throat, immediately making you recoil and gag.

“Relax your throat,” She instructed, throat-fucking you.

Tears filled your eyes, and you shake your head, still trying to pull away from her. Her spare hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, keeping you in place. After a few seconds, she pulled away, and you gasped for air.

“Has this one had any training?” She questioned your seller, wiping her wet fingers on your thighs.

“She’s had some, but she isn’t very receptive to it.” He explained, “She normally bites and scratches. I’m surprised that she hasn’t done that to you,”

The woman hummed and pulled out her phone, opening to her camera. Her finger hooked around your chin, tilting your head towards to the camera and snapping a photo. You shifted uncomfortably.

Her phone immediately pinged with notifications.

“We’ll take her,” The woman stood and turned towards your seller, slipping her phone into her pocket.

His face was full of shock, obviously not expecting her to settle on you.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“Are you questioning my ability to make decisions?” She snapped.

He shook his head, “Of course not! I’ll get her ready for you,”

You cowered at those words. You didn’t want to be alone with him, not after last time. The woman didn’t seem to notice, but your seller did.

The woman nodded and left.

Your sellers face turned sour, and he glared at you. He pulled out a collar and a lead, wrapping the collar around your neck and clipping the lead.

“You made me look like an idiot in front of her. Do you even know who she is?” He hisses, “Natasha fucking Romanoff, the most powerful mob boss in the city. God, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s just buying you to torture you and eventually kill you. I hope that happens, bitch.”

Before you can stop yourself, your mouth wrapped around his hand, and you bit down. Hard. His hand immediately met your cheek, forcing you to drop his hand and pull away.

A scorching pain spread across your cheek. You tried to control your tears, but it was hopeless. Tears fell and you sniffled loudly.

He raised his hand, ready to deliver another hit “Stupid-“

The feeling of a gun being shoved against his head and the sound of the safety being turned off made him freeze.

Natasha stood behind him with a gun pointed at his head and a terrifying glare painted on her face. She grabbed him by his shirt collar and tossed him into the wall. He let out a grunt and stared at her with fearful eyes.

“Touch my property again and I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” She harshly dug the tip of her gun into his temple, “Or worse, Wanda will, and I’m sure you know how violent my wife can be.”

Even with her anger not directed at you, it still scared you. The last thing you wanted was to be on the receiving end of it. The mention of the new name made you curious. Did Natasha send that picture of you to Wanda? Why didn’t Wanda come in with Natasha?

“I-I’m so sorry, Ms. Romanoff.” He spluttered.

He glanced over at you, and you had enough time to poke your tongue out before Natasha pulled his gaze back to her.

“Don’t look at her,” She commanded.

You swore you heard him whimper from fear.

“Now, get the hell out of here before I change my mind and kill you,”

He quickly nodded and ran off.

Natasha crouched in front of you, running her thumb over your sore cheek. It was going to leave a bruise.

Natasha stood, picked your leash from the floor, and tugged on it. You didn’t want to keep her waiting, so you obediently crawled toward her.

You kept your head low as you exited the store, the words of your seller replaying in your mind. You didn't want to be tortured or die. You were scared.

That's when you decided that you weren't going to let that happen to you. Somehow, you were going to escape. If only you knew what a mistake that would be.

Taglist: @alexawynters @tia-thesimp

[scarletwidowsbaby]

Little Pet

Summary: Something nefarious this way comes. Will you run before it's too late?

Pairings: Vampire!Nat x Hunter!Fem!Reader x Heretic!Wanda

Genre: Dark and slightly smutty but no sexy times.

Warnings: Sexual suggestions, blood, fangs, lingerie, dark magic. Minors dni, this is not for you.

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while but I gave it a bit of a touch-up. Hope you enjoy!

It was only dusk and you were already regretting taking the job. 

You had been hired by the local innkeeper to investigate the mystery around the abandoned manor on the backside of the forest’s mountain. Many adventurers had come in search of the manor, yet none had returned.

The fact that he was paying you three thousand coin per adventurer that you found was… possibly also the deciding factor. 

As you stepped onto the surprisingly well-kept lawn of the place, your hunter instincts went off. Something nefarious was here, lurking in the shadows, watching and waiting. You pulled out your sword as you entered through the giant double oak doors.

Immediately, your blade began to burn hotter than a thousand suns, forcing you to drop it. Thankfully, you had your fireproof gloves on from your latest encounter with a feral dragon, and weren’t burnt. 

“So sorry, dear.” A voice echoed in the grand pitch-black entryway, high ceiling above decorated with paintings akin to the skills of the Sistine Chapel. 

Not even God could save you now. 

“Come closer, dear. Let me see you in the light.” 

You noticed a speck of moonlight from a small window to the high right, almost casting a spotlight on the tiles in front of you. You cautiously stepped forward into it, unsure why, yet the voice’s chuckle was… unnerving.

“Why, look at you. A female hunter? Shall we call you Huntress?”

Your gaze steeled - there were more of them - before you felt a sharpness on your neck, a blur passing behind you. 

“Oh my. How… sweet.” 

You put your hand on your neck, your glove in the light showing a thin line of your blood. 

“Vampires.” You muttered beneath your breath. 

“Oh, not just vampires.” A new voice said, a clear glee entwined in her thick accent. “I do wish you would figure it out already.”

Suddenly, your body was lifted by an invisible force. You couldn’t move, save your eyes, and you were whisked through the house before you came to a throne room. You were practically thrown to the ground in front of it, a pair of sleek boots in your gaze. 

“It’s so wonderful to see another human try their luck here, isn’t it love?” The person, woman, in front of you chuckled darkly. 

“Let her lift her head, my dear. I want to see the life in this one’s eyes before I take it away.” 

The invisible force acting on your body released your head and you immediately lifted it, coming up to see two women. The one on the throne held a classic lop-sided smirk, her ginger-red hair flowing down her shoulders in simple waves. The other, standing beside the throne, was very clearly something else, with her brown locks tied back in neat braids done by a professional.

“A… here… tic…” You strained the devious hybrid species’ name through your lips.

“There we go. She figured it out!” She snarkily laughed, her eyes glowing as crimson as the bloodstains on her sleeves. 

“You are clearly a very skilled huntress. What is your name, sugarcube?” The seated vampire asked, her eyes set on yours. 

“Y/N.” Your name was pulled from your lungs by the heretic. 

“My my… No wonder Wanda liked the feeling from your sword… you are known for such giant feats of destruction in our world, Y/N the Huntress.” 

You guessed that Wanda was the heretic, given the grin that came onto her face. “Now now, love, I think you should introduce yourself. Give this huntress a good fright, yes?” 

You looked back at the throned woman, noticing a familiarity to a few wanted posters on the borders of the Darklands. “No…” 

“Yes…” She grinned, nodding her head as her sharp nails came to grip your cheek. “I am Natasha Romanova, Countess of the Mstiteli Clan. And you, dear huntress… are now mine.”

She pulled you up by your neck and made a neat slit across your skin, sinking her fangs into your vein whilst Wanda ripped your armour from your body with her magic. Wanda grabbed your wrist and pulled up your sleeve, making a neat slit perpendicular to your arm and delved into it. 

Tingling sensations spread from both areas, sending shivers down your spine. It was fast, and ruthless, as they didn’t stop even to let you breathe. You were trapped in the cycle of stuttered breaths, euphoria, and the effects of blood loss. 

When you rose, your body felt exactly how it was - weak, drained of energy, of blood. You felt your ankle had been chained, the cold metal stinging on your skin though it contrasted vastly with the softness of the bed beneath you. 

“Oh, now that’s a hangover headache for the ages.” You winced, lifting your hand to your head to simultaneously relieve the ache and brush a few strands out of your face.

“Is that what humans feel like when they’re blood is consumed? Intoxicated?” You jerked your head up - bad idea - to see Countess Natasha lying next to you in nothing but a black nightrobe and dark red lingerie. She gingerly brushed her fingers over your neck, which had small gauze patches on either side. 

“You.” You growled before instinctively reaching for your sword, only to feel another hand there. 

“You were right to melt her armour and sword, my love - she is such a feisty one.” Wanda giggled, her own nightrobe and lingerie adorned on her body. 

Wanda flicked some magic to your hands and they obeyed, pulling up until the wisps of red tied your wrists to the bed frame. “Though you can think of hurting us, now you can’t.” She grinned deviously.

“Now, sugarcube… what to do with you…” Natasha teased before she carefully began to peel off your gauze patches.

“Hey! That hurts!” You huffed before Wanda ripped the one near her fangs off with a sharp tug. 

“OW!”

They both chuckled and cooed at you like you were some soft malleable thing. 

“Calm down, detka. You’re such an impatient little thing.” Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“I’m not your ‘baby’.” You huffed, rolling your eyes before she quickly gripped your jaw.  

“Do that again and I’ll take away the pleasure from being fed on.” She whispered darkly into your ear, pressing her thumb and finger into your neck to pinch your airways. 

You paused, relinquishing, and she pulled away. “Good. Now, for ground rules: This coven is a respected coven. You are the only human we’ve ever taken in that won’t be turned, no matter how sexy you’d be as a vampire.”

“You see, baby girl… We own you now.” Wanda summarised, putting a small bit of ointment on your healing bite wounds. 

“Nobody owns me.” You retorted. 

“That ends today. Well, I should say tonight.” Natasha chuckled, tracing the outline of your face. 

“Yes, it does. So, we will explain the hierarchy to you: Natasha is Countess, so she will often be busy with coven affairs and our coven’s safety. Then, it’s me, considering I am her wife-”

“Wife?!” You exclaimed before Natasha’s finger pushed down on your sternum, her supernatural strength keeping you down in the bed. 

“Yes, my adoring, lovely, brilliant chef of a Sokovian wife. Now listen and be respectful.” The countess warned you. 

“As I was saying, I am second in the hierarchy. Then it is James, Steve, Sam and Scott - they are our ‘muscle’, even though some of them look like tanks and others not so much. After them is virtually everyone who is not an unturned child. Those we have accepted and who will be turned upon legal age.”

You listened carefully before you noticed an item in Wanda’s hand - a necklace. 

“This is something you will wear at all times unless in the shower. It is imbued with Natasha and mine’s scents and blood, should you ever need to be healed.” She said, clasping it over your neck and not afraid to let her hands wander a bit down. 

You turned your head away from hers, feeling some sort of spell over your body like the blood within the red stone was charged. 

“You feel it, don’t you?” Natasha smirked from above you, her hair tickling your neck as it hung down. “The power of us, the Mstiteli Clan leaders, though only a single drop of blood each. The power of vampires. You could have never defeated us, Y/N. Not even with your enchanted sword.”

“I did enjoy breaking those enchantments.” Wanda added.

You closed your eyes, trying to take everything in since you were still a bit dazed. “Nobody told me that you were Mstiteli. If I had known that-”

“You wouldn’t have come. We know. But we loved chatting to that innkeeper a few nights ago. He was just divine.” Natasha licked her lips and you understood the double entendre. 

“A few little drops of amber ash doesn’t hurt a fella. And without you to return and claim your prizes, we’ll keep getting willing meals right at our doorstep.” Wanda smirked.

“Such delicious, tasty meals… Speaking of, I want to have some more…”

You looked at the two warily. They stopped. What?

Natasha snickered darkly, cupping your cheek. “Oh, you really are as sweet as they come. No, what we did was a dominance show. Now, we go gently.”

Gently wasn’t the right word for her to use as she practically smashed her lips against yours, delving her tongue in to test if even your saliva was as sweet as your blood. Your hands, still chained above your head, were no match for Wanda’s power as she sank to your stomach, kissing and sucking at the exposed skin. 

“So divine…” She murmured, a flick of her magic warping your reality. 

“Hey! Bring my clothes back!” You yelled, mostly from embarrassment as you now wore the same nightrobe adorned on them but in crimson red… and without lingerie. 

“Patience, dear. We want our filling first. We will always come before you.” Natasha said, the words burning in your mind as she locked eyes with you. 

Then, she leaned in and reopened the wound with such precision of her fang she could be a surgeon. She sucked at your neck whilst keeping a firm hold of your body, her arm snaking underneath the nightrobe and around your back. 

“Come up here, Wanda. You were the one who wanted us to make our marks clear and present.” She chided her wife, who you hadn’t even noticed feeding on your wrist. 

“But she’s so beautiful… I want to sink my fangs into every inch of her, litter her body with my bite.” Wanda said and you could tell she was the far more possessive one. 

“Neck first.” Natasha said firmly. 

You felt like a blood bag. Nothing more than for something they can feed on and toy with, squish around in their hands to bring out every bit of life source. 

Then, you felt that tingle again. That rush of endorphins coursing through your veins, making you whimper beneath their touch. 

“Hush. Fuck, you’re delicious.” Wanda moaned against your neck, digging her fangs deeper. 

You quietened down like a good little pet and let them have their fill once more, your jostles of movement stopping quickly as fatigue set in. They were both grinning as they pulled away from your neck, fangs and lips smeared with your blood. 

“Wanda, go get some hot towels.” Natasha muttered, the heretic speeding away to bring a tower of hot towels. 

She leaned into your ear, kissing it gently. “Now hush, little pet. Time for you to rest some more…”

[scarletwidowsbaby]

If anybody doesn’t like it then they don’t truly appreciate art 😌🥰🫂🫂

Kinktober Day 4 - Teratophilia (Monster Lover) Werewolf! Nat x Anya 18+ | Minors DNI | Warnings Labeled

Smut: Natasha is a Werewolf | Breeding | Unprotected Sex | Knotting | Natasha has a penis | Uncensored Version -> HERE!

[scarletwidowsbaby]

oh my-

wgjarhafbtkanfwb

LEX THIS IS HOT AF 😍😍🤤🤤 lemme om nom nom pleaseeeeeeee

Kinktober Day 4 - Teratophilia (Monster Lover) Werewolf! Nat x Anya 18+ | Minors DNI | Warnings Labeled

Smut: Natasha is a Werewolf | Breeding | Unprotected Sex | Knotting | Natasha has a penis | Uncensored Version -> HERE!

[scarletwidowsbaby]

This might be unpopular but I’m not going to use simpler vocabulary in my writing if it’s out of character for the narrator. If my POV character is a botanist, he’s going to call a plant by its name. If you don’t know what it is you can either Google it or move on just knowing it’s a plant of some sort.

I don’t like this trend of readers being angry that not everything is 100% understandable for them. I want my characters to be believable as people and sometimes people use words people outside of their field will not understand. That’s not a bad thing.

You don’t have to understand every word to get the gist of what’s happening. I’m not going to slow down an action scene to describe every weapon because someone might not know them by name. They can just assume it’s a weapon because that makes sense in the context of the scene.

[scarletwidowsbaby]

hsvdjrkwfFqfqheaqgdgrbr

🫣🫣

this is- hot damn, frick frackkkkkkk

so hot. so beautiful.

Stunning work, Lex! 🥰 i love every drawing of yours!

EVERYBODY GO LIKE THIS AND STARE IN AWE

Natasha Romanoff x Anya Morozoff

18+ | Minors DNI | Warnings Labeled

Smut: Breeding | Unprotected Sex | Oral (Nat receiving) | Collaring | Natasha has a penis | Uncensored Version + EXTRA! -> HERE!

[scarletwidowsbaby]

T H E D O G ' S F A L L - One shot.

Words count - 5,2k.

Tags & Warnings - mob boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, angst, harm/comfort, manipulation, mentions of blood/past abuses, human trafficking.

Summary - Anyone that can beat her in a fight will earn her, and Natasha intends to be the one, working hard to get what she thinks is hers. A dog can't fight for eternity, can it?

Moodboard here.

N/A - It's the longest os I've wrote so far, took me a lot of time but it's enventually here so I really hope you'll enjoy it! If it's the case, don't hesitate to let me know by interacting with the post :)

It is at the back of that popular night club that everything is happening, where no one can see your distress except the one that enjoys it, where everyone is too busy having fun to pay attention to the veritable purpose of this building. On a dark corner that light never reaches, a man is guarding the most important secret of that place, and very few are the people he lets through; only rich and influential men and women get their ticket for this special spectacle that takes place here every night.

Down there, the loud music is replaced by the shouts of excited men that makes her sigh; why do they have to scream like animals? If she gets a few glances, no one dares to say anything as the infamous Black Widow is walking through the crowd to get to her place. She has blood on her back, people are whispering, some from admiration, others from fear, but no one stays indifferent - how could they? One of the most important mafia bosses of the city, but also one of the most discreet, is here. She has her reputation and, even if she is rarely seen, she is well-known, so none of the men dares to protest when she decides to take place in their lodge, chasing them out of the room. 

From here, she has a perfect view of the cage and, most importantly, of the Dog.

It is obvious that there is no way out of the ring, that you are trapped in that cage until one of these men’s victory - or your last breath - but, somehow, you still believe that defeating them will lead you out of that basement. So, not caring about how many of them are daring to step in your cage, you beat them, one by one. You watch the man you just defeated being escorted out of the cage so the next one could take his place - it gives you a few seconds to catch your breath. 

The world is spinning, you can’t even see the faces of your opponents, but you don’t give up. Even if the only thing you want is to curl up in the corner, crying for your mom, you can’t. You can’t because it will mean giving them your life. No, you need to be stronger than them, to pretend that you don’t feel the pain inflicted by their blows, to pretend that you are not bothered by the metallic taste of the blood in your mouth, they need to believe you could do that all night. But you are not foolish and you know damn well that you won’t last long. 

It is hard to focus on anything, even on breathing, because you are overwhelmed by a crew you can't even see, blinded by the lights; you are the spectacle. They all came to see the Dog fighting, hoping to witness its fall. They are shouting, mostly insults in Russian, whistling and clapping everytime something exciting is happening during a fight, but it won’t be enough to save you from that place. 

Oh, at first, they were cheering for you, but it slowly changed, people getting tired of seeing your pretty face every night. They thought you would be easy to break and hated to be proven wrong, and you perfectly know that the stakes have changed. It is no longer about giving them what they want, entertainment, it is purely about surviving and you noticed how the attitude of your opponents changed over the weeks, becoming more aggressive.

You were a champion, now you are just a little bitch they need to get rid of. 

The organization that threw you in that rat hole understood that as much as you did and, tonight, they changed the rules. Tonight, it'll be only you against the world, until they are tired of it. No break, no help, everytime one leaves, the next one is already stepping in the ring, as an endless torture. 

Tonight, she will be one of them. She has been looking at you hungrily since the first time she came here, and she knows that you will be hers by the end of the night, after all she came just for that, to take you home.

Even if she is here every night, you never had a chance to notice the woman. She was always sitting in the last row, observing you from her balcony, where she is hidden by the shadow, but she noticed you for sure. The time she came, it was only because of one of her associates that wanted to meet here specifically, she never left since. From the moment her eyes landed on you, she was unable to think about anything else, the way you were looking so innocent but so feroce at the same time got her heart. 

She sent a few of her best men, knowing they would lose, as a test, waiting for the moment it would be her turn to enter the cage. She never expected them to win and she would have killed them if they had the audacity to: she is the one that is supposed to defeat you, the only one that has the right to own you. The urge to possess you only grew stronger over the weeks, being deeper every time she came here, she wants to see you as you are breaking under her effect, to control every aspect of your life. 

So she patiently waited for the right time to come, she always liked a bit of challenge anyway, having a soft spot for things that are hard to get. She worked hard to get you, spending weeks observing every of your movements: she learned how you are fighting and your habits, she learned to read your body and face as if she was on your mind, and that’s the difference with the others: if you are a game for them, for her, you are a goal she must reach at all costs. 

As soon as your eyes laid on her, you knew she wouldn’t back up, somehing in the way she stepped in the cage already made all the difference. It is her confidence. It is the smirk on her face, a cocky one. It is the way her hands are stuck in her pockets while she is observing you. It is the slight sigh as she gets rid of her leather jacket. It is all these details that give the impression that she is just here to settle a formality, already certain of her victory.

Even the way she is moving has something unrealist. Every step, every look, is calculated and almost imperceptible. Usually, you would step forward, ready to fight even before they entered the cage to show them you are not afraid, but this time? You can’t help but instinctively step back when she enters. The movement was slight, as you were already leaning the grid but she noticed it, the way her aura is pressuring you, and she loves it.

As soon as the door was closed, your fate was sealed.

It all happened really fast because she knew exactly what to do, she prepared for that moment. You quickly realized that you were right: the woman had nothing in common with the men you were fighting against earlier, you never stood a chance to win that fight. The realization is more painful than the blows she is currently throwing at you. Every punch you try to land, she knows exactly how to dodge it. As if she was on your mind, she knows exactly where to hit to get you weak, stealing your breath and your strenght, having you on your knees then laying on the floor in less than a few minutes. 

At first, you tried to get up, to fight, but she is faster than you are, and wiser, and stronger, and more trained. She is being pretty much better in everything. Soon your vision is so blurry that you can’t see anything, you are feeling so weak that even moving your fingers or keeping your eyes open is just too much. 

"Stay still,” she quietly ordered when she noticed you were struggling against her grip - she had you pinned down on the ground by pressing her foot on your back and grabbed your hair to lift a bit your head. "You're going to be mine no matter what, so don't make things harder for yourself, honey." 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

You hear the countdown but, this time, it is not your victory that is announced, it is hers. As soon as her name is shouted by the crew, her grip releases your hair but you simply don't have the strength to move, the news leaves a void in your chest. The pain, but mostly this feeling of emptiness, is keeping you frozen in place. She owns you, and this simple idea is sending shivers through your whole body. You don't realize yet what is happening, thinking that, maybe, it is just a cruel joke on you, and it explains the lack of reaction when she asks you to get up; she needs to grab your arm and lift to get you on your feet. 

You stumble, fighting the urge to vomit. Your brain can barely process what is happening, especially when you realize that your feet are not touching the ground anymore. In her arms, you are nothing more than a rag doll, silent and motionless, barely having the energy to keep your eyes open. 

"She is not for sale,” she coldly said, her voice bringing you back to reality. As she was on her way to get out of the night club, some men were offering the woman outrageous amounts of money in the hope of getting you, they all backed up once she coldly glanced at them. "No one will ever take you away from me, do you hear that, love? You are safe as long as you’re with me," she then whispered in your ears. 

You drift into unconsciousness as soon as the car starts, despite the woman that kept begging you to keep your eyes open, the way she was cadling you not helping. You just had enough time to notice the men sitting at the front of the black van, both armed and intimidating, before falling into darkness. 

You opened your eyes again when the car stopped in an alley. It is late, the sun gave its throne to the moon a long time ago and, even if you can't tell what time it is, you know it is the middle of the night. How many hours did you spend down there, fighting for your life? The question makes you sick because the only answer is too many. All these hours for nothing because, no matter how hard you triee, you loose. You were never supposed to win their twisted game, you never got a chance and you slowly realize that the promised freedom was just a lure. For weeks you believed them, you played along their rules, thinking it was the only way to get your life back.

And here you are, in the arms of your new owner, a woman you know nothing about but that now has every rights on you, even if you will live depends exclusively on the redhead's choices. The fear twists your stomach, the humiliation clenches your throat and the exhaustion makes your eyes burning, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you repeat in your head, but you don't know for how long you will be able to keep your tears for yourself.  

The woman is not looking at you at all, she is concentrating on not falling as she is walking to the house, barely seeing where her feet are landing. You, however, can't help but observe every detail of her face, noticing how serious her expression is. You are trying to guess how your life is going to be by her side, but you can't, she is a complete mystery and you hate that.

A part of you wants to go back in that basement. It may have been a living hell, but you had your habits, you knew how to survive, now you will have to learn everything again. 

You notice that two armed persons are guarding the front door and, when you pass by them, they exchange a few words in Russian. You can't understand a word of what they are saying, but you guess they are greeting the woman, beside some insults, you don't know a lot and only because that's how they used to call you.

The inside of the penthouse is exactly as you imagined it: expensive, tidy and minimalist. You never felt comfortable in that kind of environment, it always reminded you that you will never have a place in that sphere, you are nothing more than their animal, a dog that does everything they want. 

Once inside, you almost expected her to drop you on the floor but she didn't. Her grip is strong, as if she doesn't want to let you go, that's because she is scared too. She exchanged a few words in Russian with a woman before heading upstairs. 

Your eyes closed because of the light, you don't see much more of the house, nor of where you are going. You can feel that she climbs the stairs, takes a few turns and walks through a door before she eventually lets you go. It is with care that she sits you on the floor of the bathroom. 

"Here we are," she whispered, "you can open your eyes, love," she added when she noticed they were still closed. If you can't see her smile, you can feel her hand brushing your cheek. 

For weeks you didn't see anything else than pitch darkness and the dimmed light of the basement where you were fighting, it is great to eventually be able to see something else. She even made sure to not turn the big light on, only a small one in the corner that diffuses a subdued light. Somehow, she knows exactly what to do to make you feel comfortable. 

"Let me help you," she said, coming closer to kneel in front of you when she realized you couldn't take your bath alone.

On the way home, she sent a message for one of her maids to run a bath for you to enjoy when you arrived. The mirrors fog up and a scent of jasmine fills the room, but even if the idea of taking a bath sounds good, you don't move. You are curled at the exact place she left you in, your knees against your chest.

You are like a dog, but nothing like a fighting one, she thought when she saw how you tried to back up when she reached for your shirt.

"I am not going to do anything," she quietly said, trying to sooth you by using a gentle tone and caressing your cheek with her thumb. "I am going to help you to get rid of those rags so you can get a bath, okay? Then, we can clean your wounds and have a good meal, does this sound good?" she asked and you slowly nodded. 

She helps you to get rid of your clothes that are closer to rags honestly as they have holes in them, the fabric being soaked in dirt, blood and sweat, sticking to your skin. You never felt so vulnerable than right now, under her serious gaze, what is she thinking about? It is impossible to guess but you can feel her eyes on your body as she looks you up and down. A quick glance which allows her to take a mental note about all your injuries.

"What are you doing?" she chuckled, when her eyes didn’t land on your chest but on your crossed arms - you were trying to hide, how cute. "How silly you are,” she whispered when noticing you didn't seem to understand what she was talking about, "thinking you can hide like that."

Her tone sounded too sweet for it to genuinely be and there is something behind her gentle tone that is rigging alarms in your head. You can't tell what it is exactly, but there is that weird feeling, your instinct screaming at you to be careful when your body just wants to give up and be in her arms, ‘cause what could go wrong?

She takes your hands to pull them away from your chest so you can’t hide from her anymore. Her grip is firm, just a little too strong so you understand that, despite her sweet smile, she won't hesitate to be harsh with you if you don’t behave. However, she still seems to be extra careful while moving you, as if you were a porcelain doll, because for nothing in the world she would hurt her fragile princess. She  slowly takes your arms away so she can give a glance at all your injuries. What she sees makes her sigh, she seems about to say something but keeps her words for herself ; you should have been more careful. 

She helped you to get in the bath and it was a nice moment, a few minutes you got for yourself because, surprisingly, she let you bathe yourself alone. Oh, she wasn’t far away, just at the other end of the room, keeping a close eye on you at every time, but dealing with something on her phone. She would occasionally comment on the way you were doing things, talking you throught it so you can shower the proper way, her way. Once you are done, she wraps you on a soft towel, bandages your wounds and gives you clothes that are hers, a hoodie and a short, and you can’t help but notice how good they are smelling, how comfortable you are feeling in these.

"Did you say something?" she genuinely asked, turning to you because she was sure she heard you mumbling a few words. 

She was talking about your life here, talking almost alone as you weren’t really talkative, but thinking she would miss the words you whisepered was a mistake because she never misses anything.

"Nothing important," you replied, but this answer doesn't seem to please the woman, something twitching in her eyes, coming from soft to sharp.

"When I ask you a question, you reply to it, am I clear?” she said, immediately leaving what she was doing to come close to you and grab your chin.  “You are not the one that gets to decide what’s important, your small brain can't handle big decisions and that's why I am here. I mean, see how it got you to be by yourself …" she continued, looking at you with disdain, as if she was thinking that it is only your fault if you ended up in that rat hole, caught in human trafficking. “I am here to give you a second chance and you better take it ‘cause it may be the last… so don't talk to me like that ever again, did I make myself clear enough?"

The only answer you are able to give her is a whining accompanied by a sniffle and she obviously doesn’t like that. Even if you tried your hardest to not let those tears rolling down your cheeks, you can’t help it, her harsh words only making things worse because you are already hating to disapoint the woman. 

"If I knew you would cry, I would've sold you ..", she sighed in annoyance, her nails digging into your skin, "I hate cry-babies, understand?" she asked, but it wasn’t not a question: it was a warning. "The fighter I saw in that ring must be here when I am back," she coldly added before releasing the pressure she was exerting on your face.

She leaves, slamming the door shut so you easily understand that she is upset with you reacting that way. She has done everything she could in order to help you to be comfortable here : she gave you a bath and clothes, cleaned your wounds, promised you a meal and a bed, even gave you comfort but it still doesn't seem to be enough because you were crying as if she was some sort of monster, and she can't bear that vision. She tried to repeat to herself that you are just tired, that things are going to get better with time but it doesn’t calm her down. Whether you want it or not, she will make sure that, one way or another, you will accept her and she won't hesitate to use the hard way if she has to. 

When she comes back, she notices that didn't move an inch, scared by what the woman could say and impressed by the bedroom. But it didn’t prevent your eyes from wandering around the room. It is really minimalist, there is nothing that could give you a hint about the person she is, everything is exactly where it should be, not a speck of dust and no personal objects. It feels like a hotel room more than hers.

When you hear the door, your gaze settles on the woman. Your knees are bent against your chest as if it could protect you from all the dangers of the world. She probably left you for only five minutes, but they felt like hours. Your thoughts had time to run while waiting for her : what about trying to escape? But it never worked, it’s always a dead end, a path to regrets because they always find you, making sure you won’t even think about doing it again and, if they do not find you, it's someone else. You learned that there is no escape and gave up on going back to your old life a long time ago. It is not even the fear of the armed men that is keeping you here, it's the void in you when you think about what you would do if you were free again, nothing. Nothing because you forgot how to live on your own. So you didn't move, not even a finger because she didn't ask you to do it, only being a dog that lives for its masters' will.

But what piques your curiosity is more the tray in her hands than anything else. As soon as she enters the room, closing the door behind her with her foot, a pleasant smell spreads through the room. You can see many things on the tray she brought back : a glass of water, some pills, a bowl of steaming soup with bread and a plate with rice, vegetables and chicken. When was the last time you ate a real meal? Long enough for you to not remember what it was.

"Eat." she said as she put the tray on your knees.

It smells good. That's the first thought that crossed your mind when you saw the plate. For a moment, you forget about the past hours; when was the last time you got a real meal? You can't remember, not even a fragment of a memory. 

You would eat what your owners give you, eat quickly before they come back, never knowing what you are eating nor when the next meal would be; you learned to not ask too many questions. At first, it was difficult to accept such a fate: you would refuse to even taste the food they were giving to you, but it didn't last long. Eventually, you started to eat - inhale - anything you were given without thinking twice about it.

Tonight, for the first time in years, you are going to eat something else than the leftovers of someone you don't even know. Tonight, you won't have to be scared about your food being stolen. Tonight, you can even see the smoke, a sign that your meal is still hot, freshly cooked and maybe homemade.

"I-," you started, but she didn't let you finish your sentence, your lips barely had time to move that she already cut you, leaving no place for an argument.

I am not hungry, you were about to say, and she somehow knew it. She also knew it was a lie, your stomach has been painfully twisted because of that sick feeling for days, but the knot is also caused by your fears. 

It all feels a bit too perfect. It feels like a trap, a way to encourage you to let your guard down only to break you after, making the fall harder. Some did that in the past, why not her? She doesn't look less cruel than the others. Yet, when she is talking, she seems more genuine, you could believe her when she says she only wants what's best for you, that she cares, she just has a twisted way to show it. 

"Yes, you are, so eat, now," she ordered you with such a cold tone that you don't dare to argue. There are all these warnings she doesn't say out loud but you can read in her eyes: just do whatever I tell you, pretty girl, they say. 

And, for sure, you don't want to face the consequences of your insubordination. So you slowly take the fork, not glancing away for one second, your eyes into hers. You are looking at every detail of her expression as if it would change, telling you that it is a trap, except it doesn't and her expression stays stern. It is impossible to read anything on her face, not even a hint of how she is feeling.

You take the first bit, carefully swallowing and… nothing happens. You don't feel weird, it doesn't taste bad and she doesn't snap at you for a small imaginary mistake you would have made. It is the complete opposite. The food is really good, melting on your tongue, and you start to eat quickly, not because you have to, but because you want to. For the first time in years, eating is a pleasure. 

She sighed when she noticed that you were inhaling your food, but she didn't say anything; she will have all the time later to change that habit of you. So she just stood there for a few seconds, observing you in silence, with her arms crossed, before sitting next to you - that's when you broke eye contact, once she was sure you would eat everything. 

As you are eating, she is barely paying attention to you, at least that's the impression she is giving. One of her arms wrapped around your shoulder, her hand is absently drawing circles on your skin while she is on her phone, dealing with something serious - you can hear her frustrated sighs from time to time.

Except she sees everything and your mistake was to not be careful enough around the woman. A little because of your clumsiness, mainly because of how fast you were eating, you dropped a bit of your food on the floor. You didn't think it was a big deal, picking it up to put it back on the plate. Three seconds rules, dropped on a clean floor, you don't have very high standards anyway - but she does. She turned to you the moment she felt you were moving, a curious, but disgusted, look on her face.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her hand grabbing your wrist before you could drop the bit of food on your plate. She moves your hand on the side of the tray, far from your plate, before you even get a chance to reply. "Drop it," she ordered to you, "that's gross, hope you weren't going to eat that." 

You shake your head, too scared to do anything else, but she knows you are lying; of course you were about to eat it. You spent the past years living like a fighting dog, you would eat anything she would give you, you might even eat directly from the dirty floor if she asked you to. She winces in disgust, not letting your hand go.

"Give me that," she snarled and you can feel how her grip tightened on your wrist to force you to give the fork away.

She then takes the tray that was in front of you to put it on her side of the bed, you are looking at her, scared she would definitely take your meal away. You are about to protest when she notices it and glances at you, daring you to say a word, you don't. 

"Come here," she said, gesturing you to come closer, she even grabbed your arm to guide you when she noticed you were hesitant to move.

She sits you between her legs and you are clearly uncomfortable, wiggling, but if she notices it, she doesn't seem to care. She is so close to you that you can feel her breath tickling your skin, but she keeps acting like nothing is weird here. When she leans to cut your food, you can feel her chest pressing against your back, the contact making your heart races. Too focused on how close you are to the woman, you barely noticed when she approached the fork from your mouth, waiting for you to open. It takes one more second for you to understand what she is waiting for and, when you do, you blush in embarrassment. She takes advantage of you opening your mouth to say something to feed you, and you don't dare to push her away. 

"Can't even eat alone, hm?" she whispered in your ear while you were chewing the bit of food she just gave you, "but that's fine, I am here now," she added, and there is something in her tone that makes you shiver.

Once she made sure you ate everything, she wrapped her arms around you, laying a kiss on your temple. It is strange how safe you are feeling in her embrace: for a few seconds you forget she is the one that beat you earlier. Right now, she is just someone that cares for you, with whom you feel at peace. You can't remember the last time someone made you feel that way, you can barely remember your life before entering the human trafficking circuit.

You don’t really know when you fell asleep, but your eyes were quick to close under the effects of her fingers running on your hair and of her voice whispering sweet words in your ears. At some point, a maid came to take the empty tray away and the woman layed the both of you in the bed, under the covers, trying her best to not wake you up. This night, you slept in a comfy bed, feeling protected in the arms of the woman despite the things she did, not even thinking one second about pushing away her hands that found their way under your sweatshirt, resting on your stomach. 

The Dog fell right into the Black Widow’s web.

[scarletwidowsbaby]

Jealous girl (18+)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: secret relationship, smut, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, fingering, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Natasha's in her 30s), praise, pet names, orgasm denial

Summary: your best friend Peter needs help, Natasha's not happy about it at all.

Masterlist

You're standing in the kitchen when it happens.

Peter barges in, his hair a tangled mess, his sweatshirt inside out. You jump away from Natasha's arms, making her spill her protein shake. She shoots him a dirty look, her lips curling up upon registering his disheveled state.

You try to keep the annoyance from showing on your face, but you know you're doing a terrible job when Peter winces apologetically, throwing a bag full of Ben and Jerry's on the counter.

"Code red," he pants.

You straighten immediately, trying to shoo Natasha away with a look, but, instead of leaving, she makes herself comfortable on the counter with an excited glint in her eyes.

You've been friends with Peter ever since he ran you over with his bike in kindergarten, leaving you with a tiny scar on your shin, and a fear of any two-wheeled object. Your friendship grew over the years, and soon enough you were joined at hip, going to the same school and college, tagging along on his patrols, mainly to keep him out of the police radars.

"What's wrong?" You ask, fearing the worst. "Is Venom acting up again? Is it Felicia? I swear to God, if it's her again I'm gonna-"

That's when you decided to make a secret code to help you stay under the radar. In hindsight, you could've thought of something more elaborate than code red, code green and code yellow, but neither of you had enough brain power for that.

"It's MJ!" He cuts you off, shifting on his feet.

You stammer, looking at Natasha for help, but she appears equally puzzled. "I didn't think she had it in her, to be honest," she says, taking a sip of her shake.

"What?" Peter yelps, before jumping up, his hands flying up in an X motion. "No! She's not- No! She's not a villain, or a criminal, or anything like that."

You decide you've had enough of his blabbering, so you take hold of his shoulders and corner him against the counter. "What is it, Peter?"

He takes a deep breath, his cheeks painted crimson, and blurts out, "I really need you to kiss me."

You jump away like you've been burned, shooting an alarmed look to Natasha, but she doesn't register it, her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, her knuckles white from the grip she has on her protein shake. You think you can hear it creak.

You turn back to look at your best friend, who's blissfully unaware of your relationship with the most dangerous person in this building, just like everyone else on the team.

Natasha's reluctance to share her love life with her teammates came to bite her in the ass.

"No, wait. That came out wrong." He winces, his eyes darting to Natasha. You can hear him gulp when their eyes meet.

"I think you were pretty clear, Parker," she gritts, jumping off the counter, and comes to stand behind you, hovering over your shoulder.

You send him an encouraging look, taking hold of Natasha's hand behind your back.

"I have a date with MJ-"

"Doesn't explain why you need my- Y/n to kiss you."

You shoot her a warning look. "Let him finish."

Her jaw clenches, but she relents, nodding to the boy to continue.

He looks like he regrets every life choice that led him to this moment.

"Okay, so. I have a date with MJ, and I planned it all out, right? But… um… there's a problem." He clasps his hands, thumbs fiddling. You stay silent in fear of him closing off, and patiently wait for him to continue. "I've never had a girlfriend before, and I've been kissed twice, if you count that one time when Ned fell on top of me and kind of swallowed my face." Natasha snorts, and Peter blushes deep red, his eyes pleading. "I need practice because otherwise I'll just embarrass myself, and she'll hate me forever."

You feel Natasha tense up again, and you're ready to ask her to leave, but she beats you to it, speaking up before you could open your mouth. "I don't think MJ would like you kissing someone else right before your date." Her tone is even, carefully emotionless, but you feel the way her breathing shakes slightly, her grip on your hand tightening.

Peter looks at you, brows set in confusion. "But it's Y/n, she doesn't count as someone!" You huff, indignant. He winces, but goes on. "I could ask Ned, but I don't think he has any experience, so please, please do this for me?"

You turn around to face Natasha. "Can you leave us?"

Her eyes narrow, lips curled. "You're not kissing him." Her hands land on your waist possessively, and you're suddenly turned around. She lowers her chin to your shoulder, lips grazing the shell of your ear as she speaks, "Listen to me very carefully, Parker."

Peter gulps, and takes a step back, his eyes wide and alert.

"You're going to leave and find someone else to help with your little problem. We'll pretend this conversation never took place, and you'll never even think about kissing Y/n again. Am I being clear?" She almost growls, her eyes flashing.

Peter nods dumbly, before hurrying to the door. He stops halfway to shoot you a bewildered look over his shoulder. "Wait… Are you two-"

"Out, Parker," Natasha barks, her face half buried in the crook of your neck. You blush, and wave your friend goodbye, grateful when he disappears behind the door without any further questions.

"Tasha," you whine, turning in her hold. "That wasn't necessary."

She scoffs, and picks you up with practiced ease, settling you on the counter and taking place between your parted thighs. "Yes it was." She sucks at the tender skin just below your collarbone, leaving a stinging bruise. "I can't believe you wanted me to leave." She squeezes your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Her mouth is all over your neck - sucking, biting and licking, claiming. You're sure no amount of concealer will be enough to hide the marks.

"Natty," you whimper, "he's my friend, I wanted to talk some sense into him."

She hums, the skin on the underside of your jaw pulled between her teeth. "I did the same thing, no?" Her fingers sneak past the waistband of your shorts, but you're quick to catch her wrist.

"What are you doing?" You look around, panting heavily. "What if someone walks in?"

"Daddy," you moan, pushing her face lower. Her fingers feel so heavenly that you don't even care about anyone walking in - you need her tongue, now. "Please."

You're pushed flat against the counter then, your back on the cold marble, your ass hanging right off the edge. Your fingers disappear in her tresses when she bends down to place a kiss on your clothed cunt.

"Let them see who you belong to," she murmurs, entering your aching core. You bite back a moan, arching in her hold, your pussy clenching around her long digits. Fleeting kisses are placed all over your stomach, her fingers curling inside your heat.

She chuckles, gently biting on your hip bone. "So needy already? I barely started." She adjusts the angle, fastening the pace, but your shorts get in the way, making you huff impatiently.

"Take them off, please," you whimper, clenching around her.

"And when someone walks in, and sees you spread wide open, what then? You think I'd allow anyone to see this pretty pussy?" Her fingers scissor inside you, stretching your walls.

"N-no."

"That's right," she hums, "because it belongs to me." She pulls out to land a short slap on your slit. "Perfect little hole for daddy to play with."

She teases your folds, collecting wetness before pushing her fingers into your mouth. You eagerly suck them in, letting her fuck your mouth, tips of her fingers pushing against your throat. "Such an obedient girl," she murmurs, dark eyes fixated on your lips. You squirm, hips rocking against her abdomen with desperate need of release.

She pulls out her fingers, smearing your slick mixed with spit over your chin.

"I need you," you whine, catching her wrist and leading her hand lower, your panties sticking to your drenched cunt.

She takes the fabric in her fist, and tugs it up, making it press against your pulsing clit. You moan loudly, throwing your head back. She kneads your supple breast with her other hand, and you arch into her, pulling her closer to your aching core with your hips.

"We'll tell everyone tonight," she murmurs against your lips. "But right now you need to be a good girl and take everything daddy gives you."

You nod, feeling your pussy clench around nothing, begging for Natasha's fingers to return. She tugs on your lower lip with her teeth and plunges three fingers inside, hitting a spongy spot deep in your heat. You arch off the counter, pressing against her front, your legs clenched hard around her hips. She grunts lowly, setting a slow pace, making sure to explore your pussy with each thrust, collecting your wetness when she pulls out only to push it back inside. You bury your face in her shoulder, your fingers disappear in her hair, tugging at the tresses.

"Good?" She whispers against your ear, spreading her fingers inside, her thumb firm on your clit.

You gasp, and bite down on the muscle of her shoulder, nodding with your eyes clenched shut. "S-so good, daddy."

She hums, her full lips pulling in a smirk, and starts circling your pulsing nub. You throw your head back, moaning loudly, and she takes the opportunity to paint your neck purple, sucking on the tender skin hard enough to leave bruises.

"M'gonna… I'm gonna come," you whimper when she hits your sweet spot, making your toes curl.

"Did I say you could, babygirl?" She chuckles into your neck, making sure to hit the spot with each thrust. You shake your head, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows in effort to stop your approaching orgasm, your body as tense as a drawn bowstring. "That's right, baby," she cooes, kissing the corner of your mouth, "you're not allowed to."

Your heart drops to your stomach, torn between wanting to be Natasha's good girl and giving in to the pleasure. “Please, please let me…” you whine, buckling against her hand.

She pulls away, her eyes level with yours, and you want to sob from how good she feels inside you, your pussy clenching around her slender fingers.

“You’ll hold it for me,” she says, “and I'll make up for it later tonight.” You almost huff in frustration, knowing that you'll have to walk around the Compound painfully wet for the rest of the day.

She grabs your jaw, seemingly reading your thoughts. “And don't even think about touching yourself.”

She pulls away abruptly and tugs you off the counter before fixing your shorts and stepping away. You blink rapidly, disoriented by the sudden change, your pussy aching in the sweetest way.

Sam enters the kitchen a second later.

You subtly wipe your mouth clean, and even out your breathing while he rummages the upper shelves. Natasha's eyes glint with mischief as she slowly wipes her fingers with a paper towel.

"You up for a training session?" She asks Sam, and you shoot her a furious look. Your glare does nothing to the redhead, as she continues watching you silently, a teasing smirk pulling at her mouth.

Sam scoffs, looking between you two. "Like you weren't about to get nasty two seconds ago."

Natasha chuckles, her eyes flashing. "About to? You need to work on your observation skills, Wilson."

Sam stills, his eyes darting between you two, and you look away, knowing that nothing could hide your red cheeks and bruised lips.

He chokes on his water the moment he sees your neck. "Damn, Romanoff," he gasps, coughing. "Right here?! This is a sacred place! I cook here!"

Natasha hums, shrugging carelessly. "I eat here," she retorts, and you can tell by the crinkles near her eyes she's about to say something that's gonna make you want to bury yourself. "Actually, I was about to devour something really delic-"

"Natasha!" You shriek, tugging her away from the kitchen, but not before quietly apologizing to Sam.

She laughs quietly, following you to the bedroom. "I think we're banned from the kitchen now."

She thinks. You scoff, shaking your head. Trust Natasha to go from a full secrecy mode to telling every living soul about your sex life.

[scarletwidowsbaby]

The Devil And An Angel

Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: During one of Tony's parties, both of your girlfriends tease you and try to tempt you into giving into your sinful desires.

Warnings/Tags: Smut 18+ MDNI, Threesome, Strap-ons, Fingering, Oral sex, Double Penetration, Dirty talk, Praise, Squirting, Dom Natasha/Switch Wanda/Switch Reader, Brief Aftercare.

General Masterlist

“Are you really not going to tell me?” you complain, looking between both your girlfriends with a small pout.

“You’ll find out soon enough Kotenok,” Natasha coos, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You smiled at the action before remembering how you were supposed to be acting grumpy.

“But why can’t I know now?” they laugh at how eager you are to find out what they are going to wear. Tony had decided to throw a party tonight, every couple/relationship must dress up as something together to change it up a bit and have some fun. The problem was, your two girlfriends were reluctant to tell you what they were dressing up as and assured you that anything you wore would be fine.

“Because it’s a surprise,” Wanda says while wrapping her arms around your middle and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now go and get ready and we’ll meet you at the party.” Grumbling, you left to go and get ready, imagining what they could have installed for you.

When you arrived at the party you had to give Tony his dues, the party looked amazing and it was a brilliant idea to have people dress up. You looked around trying to figure out what people were meant to be, smiling at how much effort everyone had put in. Steve and Bucky had dressed up as people from the 1940s, their old fashioned clothing probably from their youth. Peter and MJ were dressed as mad scientists, Peter fluffing his hair up to look crazy and constantly checking to see if it was alright, much to MJ’s amusement. Clint looked so done with the whole party despite it just starting, dressed up in a Santa costume that was from when he pretended to be the jolly man at Christmas for his children. Laura wore an elf hat and a simple dress that suited her, but she was too busy trying not to laugh at her husband. Tony and Pepper just looked incredible, their theme most likely meant to scream money and wealth.

Suddenly, you felt two people lean on your shoulders, their different perfumes invading your senses as you turned to look at them. On your left was Natasha who was dressed in a tight red dress that left little to the imagination, devil horns sticking out of her fiery red hair, black, smokey eyeshadow making her eyes pop and a sinister smirk on her face. Wanda was on your right, dressed in a white, flowy dress with a gold halo in her hair, a soft look on her face compared to Natasha. You chuckled at them, dressed as a Devil and an Angel on each of your shoulders.

“You both look beautiful,” the compliment causes them both to smile at you, the two of them having a turn to compliment your choice of clothing as well. You leaned in to give Wanda a kiss, innocent and sweet, and then turned to Natasha who had no shame in sliding her tongue into your mouth, a small moan escaping you at the action.

“Don’t be tempted by her,” Wanda whispered in your ear, her voice soft while her arm interlocked with yours. “Or there will be no reward later.” You stifled the noise that wanted to come out and just watched as Natasha winked at you before walking off.

Wanda and yourself followed behind and you had to try your hardest to not drift your gaze lower on Natasha’s back. The three of you ended up on a sofa talking with Steve and Bucky, them rambling on about a story from their past while you three nodded along. You were paying attention until Natasha moved closer, her mouth on your ear as her breath tickled the side of your face.

“Do you know how hard I want to fuck you right now?” she purred quietly, “Have you trembling with pleasure as I thrust my fingers deep inside you? Or even better, my cock.” You groan at her words, low enough that no one other than Natasha could hear, making her smirk in victory as she works you up. Her hand grips your thigh, squeezing the skin and moving up higher teasingly before drifting down to rest on your knee. “I could have you coming in my mouth right now in that bathroom,” her gaze travels to the ladies room on the other side of the room, your eyes following as they darken with lust. “Come on, let's have some fun,” she bites down on your ear while no one looks before pulling away and giving you a predatory look that sends another wave of arousal through you, your panties definitely soaked as you clench your thighs together.

After a few moments, Natasha excuses herself to the toilets, her eyes staying trained on you as she gets up and starts to walk away. You remember Wanda’s earlier words and reluctantly stay still in your seat. You know this is a test, Natasha staying true to her outfit and trying to get you to sin with her, give into her temptation and end up with a punishment equivalent to hell. That however doesn’t make it any easier as you suffer with the results of her dirty words and teasing.

You don’t realise that Steve and Bucky had left, leaving you alone with Wanda as Natasha waits out in the bathroom to see if you crack. Her touches are far more innocent that Natasha’s, her hands interlocking with yours, her thumb running over the back of your hand.

“You’re being such a good girl,” she whispers, the praise making you whine slightly. “I bet you’re so wet for us both right now,” your eyes widen at her words, not expecting her to be in on the teasing.

“I thought angels were supposed to be innocent and pure,” you say, hoping she’d stop the torment. She just lets out a low chuckle and smiles at you, making you nervous for what else was to come.

“The devil was an angel once,” she comments, her voice raspy and sultry, “Who says we can’t be tempted as well.” Her hand goes to your thigh, scratching through your clothing and even going as far as your inner thigh near your core to draw invisible patterns. Your breathing hitches and you bite your lip to stop yourself from saying anything.

Soon Natasha returns, having given up waiting for you, and takes her seat to your left again. She notices the prominent blush on your cheeks and how your hand is gripping the cushion of the sofa, knuckles almost turning white.

“So Y/n,” Natasha starts, drawing your attention away from Wanda’s hand on your leg, “Are you enjoying the party?” you go to answer her question but your breathing stops when your thoughts change.

You’re tied to the bed while Natasha roughly kisses your lips, pulling out moan after moan as her tongue explores the roof of your mouth. Her hands grope at your chest, pinching and pulling at your nipples causing sighs to leave your lips. Wanda was in between your thighs, looking up at you with an innocent look, and licked a stripe up your core, her tongue gathering the wetness that was dripping out of you.

“It’s rude to ignore people,” the spy moves closer to you, her chest pressed up against your shoulder as she talks into your ear. “I’ll ask you one more time,” You look over to Wanda who has a sly grin on her face before Natasha grabs your attention again by sucking on your neck, “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yes,” is all you could manage out in a breathless whisper, mind clouded with arousal and desire as both women relentlessly tease you.

“Are you sure?” Wanda whispers in your other ear, the hand that was teasing your inner thighs moving to drag her fingers over your clothed pussy under your dress, the fabric soaked with your arousal. “Because I'm sure there are more exciting things we could be doing,” you stifle a moan when she starts to circle your clit through your panties and move your hand to sit on top of hers.

“I just want to be good,” your whine has them both grinning, “I’ll do anything you want me to, just please let me be good for you.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, Natasha drags you away towards the elevator to get to your shared apartment, Wanda quickly on your tail.

Once you reach the bedroom, Natasha immediately straddles you on the bed, her mouth descending onto yours as she roughly kisses you and slips her tongue into your mouth. The whole thing is hot, her hands tugging your hair to pull moans out of you, her tongue tracing the roof of your mouth while her hips grind down harshly onto yours as she uses you for her own pleasure for the moment. Instinctively, your hands go to her waist, guiding her movements as she ruts against you.

“Fuck,” she rasps out as you both pull away breathless, Wanda unzipping the spy’s dress as she climbs off your lap and passionately kisses the witch. You watch in awe as their tongues fight for dominance, hands roaming freely across each other's body as they undress each other. You can’t move, frozen on the spot as bare skin is exposed to you, Natasha’s red dress dropping to the floor while Wanda’s is pulled over her head and discarded carelessly somewhere. They wear lingerie matching their outfits, Natasha wearing a black and red lace set while Wanda has a gold and white one on.

“Enjoying the show?” Wanda teases, swaying her hips as they both crawl onto the bed to join you. Her lips crash to yours, nothing innocent about her now as her hands rid you of your clothes. Natasha is now behind you, her chest pressing into your back while she bites at your neck, littering you with purple and red marks and sighing wantonly against your ear to make you shudder. Wanda’s hands cup your breasts unceremoniously as you revel in the pleasure, her running her fingers over your hardened nipples and tugging playfully. You lean your head back onto Natasha who moves to nibble on your ear, her hand coming up to rest on your throat, a pitiful moan escaping you.

“Don’t worry Kotenok,” She purrs, “You’ll get what you want soon.” You can feel her smirking into your skin as your hips buck at the contact of her knee slotting between your legs. “But first Wanda has a question, Don’t you Wands?” Her green eyes snap over to the witch who pulls back from the sloppy kiss with you, her cheeks flushed and eyes darkening.

“How do you feel about you and Nat fucking me at the same time?” she whispers against your lips and your eyes widen at the question.

“Fuck that would be hot,” you sigh out, imagining Wanda in between you and the spy as you pound into her from both sides. “Are you sure you want that?” She bites her lip at you sultrily and nods her head before moving forwards to press her lips back to yours.

“On your back baby,” she husks out between kisses and you move away from them both to lay on your back near the top of the bed. Wanda kisses down your body, licking over the marks Natasha made soothingly before ghosting her hot breath over your nipples and then kissing your inner thighs that were slick with your desire for them. “I’m going to give you your reward for being so good for us,” Her breath fans over your core, your hips bucking at the feeling which causes her to place a strong hand on your hip to keep you still. She licks through your folds, her tongue swirling around your clit while her free hand moves to be near your entrance. Her fingers gather your wetness before she thrusts two fingers straight into you, your back arching off the bed as you let out a guttural moan. Her mouth sucks at your clit while she pumps her fingers into you, your hands fisting in her hair as she eats you out

Moans pour out of your mouth when she curls her fingers and you almost scream when you feel her moan into you loudly. Your eyes wander away from the brunette between your thighs and to the redhead behind her. You hear a click of a bottle and assume she’s used some lube to ease one of her fingers into Wanda’s tight hole and let her get used to the feeling and stretch. Wanda’s face moves to kiss at your thigh for a moment, trying to get used to the feeling of something in her ass before continuing to reward you. You softly stroke her hair and let her take her time and watch as Natasha moves to have Wanda sit on her face, her finger slowly stretching her tight hole out.

The room then fills with your moans and Wanda’s muffled ones as Natasha brings her close to coming and manages to work her up to having three fingers pumping in and out of her ass. Your legs tighten around Wanda’s face as you come with a scream, body spasming with pleasure as you ride out your high grinding against the witches mouth. She follows soon after, clenching around Natasha’s fingers and tongue as she screams into you, biting down on your inner thigh to muffle the scream. The feeling was painful but also pleasurable and you’re certain you're going to have a dark mark there later on.

Natasha moves from under her, not wanting to overstimulate her, and carefully pulls her fingers out. You pull Wanda up your body, peppering kisses over her face as she tries to steady her breathing.

“You did so well for us,” you praise, still breathless from your own mind blowing orgasm as you talk to her. She hums in response and slowly kisses you, the taste of yourself on her tongue making you moan into her mouth. “Are you still up for us both?” you whisper against her lips, your hands stroking her back as she presses her body weight onto you.

“Yeah,” she murmurs back and you see Natasha move to get the strap ons before lubing them both up so it doesn't hurt her.

“Remember your safewords?” Natasha asks while Wanda gets off you so you can put the harness on.

“Green for ok, Yellow for slow down and Red for Stop,” Natasha smiles at Wanda softly then pecks her lips and helps guide her to hover above your plastic cock. Your hands move the tip of the toy to rub against her clit teasing before letting her sink down onto it. She moans lewdly as her hips meet yours and slowly starts to rock back and forth. She braces her arms next to your head and moans into a kiss as you thrust up into her gently, her hips starting a rhythm with yours.

Natasha soon has her harness on and moves to kneel behind Wanda while her hands slow her movements down. You whisper comforting words to the brunette, checking if she’s still ok by asking her for a colour, as Natasha slowly pushes the head of the toy into her ass, a loud gasp leaving the witch as she screws her eyes shut. You’re both patient as you let Wanda adjust to the toy, Natasha soon having the whole toy inside her and letting the pain fade to pleasure.

Experimentally, Wanda moves forwards slightly then pushes back, a low groan escaping her as she enjoys the feeling of Natasha and yourself deep inside her. Natasha starts a gentle pace of thrusting in and out of her while you swallow her moans with your mouth and thrust your hips up into her. Soon Wanda starts to move in time with you both, as soon as you pull out, Natasha pushes in and vice versa and her moans become louder.

“Fuck,” she moves to lean backwards against Natasha, who wraps a firm hand around her middle to keep her upright, while your hand moves to circle her clit. “Harder,” She sighs out, the two of you listening and increasing the force at which you pump your hips into her. “Faster,” the sound of skin slapping echoes around the room as you pound into her from underneath and Natasha snaps her hips against her. Wanda’s breasts bounce with each thrust and her legs start to shake as she nears her orgasm. “Please, I’m so close, don't stop,” begs tumble out her mouth as her hips move frantically between the two of you.

With a loud scream, liquid gushes out of her around your cock as she comes, her hips stuttering as her hands grip behind her onto Natasha to stop her body from collapsing forwards. You both slow down your thrusts as she rides out her high, her legs spasming around you while her hands fall off the spy to rest on your chest while she pants for breath. Natasha kisses along her neck and back while she calms down and when you see her wince at the feeling of being so full, you motion for Natasha to slowly pull out. She whines at the motion and soon moves off your lap to lay on the bed next to you.

You quickly discard the harness while Natasha moves to the bathroom to start a bath for you three and pull the witch close to you to murmur praise to her. Her body naturally moves towards you, her face tucked into your neck as she tries to fall asleep, her body exhausted from coming so hard. When Natasha returns, you carry her to the bath and gently lower her in and climb in behind her so she can lean back into your embrace. Natasha also climbs in, helping clean Wanda off and start her aftercare before quickly washing herself from any sweat.

“Are you ready for bed milaya?” Natasha murmurs into the witch’s hair after placing a soft kiss. She nodded back sleepily and the spy helped her dry off before taking her to bed. You quickly drain the tub and dry off yourself before joining them in bed. Wanda curls her body into Natasha but when she feels your presence next to her, she moves her hand back in search of yours and she places it around her middle. You smile at her drowsy actions and kiss them both goodnight before drifting off to sleep.

[scarletwidowsbaby]

Should Have Knocked

Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: When you barged into Natasha's room without any warning, your mouth parted at the scene in front of you. You certainly didn't expect to see Wanda grinding her hips unabashedly on Natasha's strap on, her red tendrils of magic wrapped securely around the assassin's hands that were pinned to the headboard.

Warnings/Tags: SMUT MDNI 18+, Threesome, Being Walked in on, Strap-ons, Fingering, Oral Sex, Face-Sitting, Dirty Talk, Sub Reader/Dom WandaNat, Aftercare

General Masterlist

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Staring intently at the knife in your hands, you deftly manoeuvred your fingers in a certain way to have the knife spin between them before letting the blade slip through your fingers to flip through the air before catching it via the handle. A sound of joy escaped you when you successfully caught the metal after flipping it, trying it once again and succeeding before deciding to find Natasha to show her the flip.

A few days ago, you asked the redhead to teach you how to do the trick, in awe of how her fingers skilfully let the knife move within her grasp. You watched her do it multiple times, a little embarrassed when you couldn't get the hang of it before the assassin had to leave you to go to her girlfriend. Now however, you had learnt how to do it and were extremely keen on showing her how well you could do it now.

Swiftly walking through the compound, you made your way to her room, hand reaching for the handle and practically barging right in before freezing on the spot.

Oh.

Oh fuck

Was the series of thoughts that entered your mind when you barged into Natasha's room without any warning as your mouth parted at the scene in front of you. You certainly didn't expect to see Wanda grinding her hips unabashedly on Natasha's strap on, her red tendrils of magic wrapped securely around the assassin's hands that were pinned to the headboard. Your gaze drifted across the exposed skin, Wanda's breasts moving each roll of her hips, Natasha's arms flexing as she tried to fight her girlfriend's magic, desperate to touch her skin and drive her mad with pleasure.

A soft moan that fell from Wanda's lips snapped you back to reality, knife falling to the floor. You had just walked in on Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, and Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, having sex. Two of the most powerful women in the world were having an intimate moment and you were currently staring at them.

Two sets of piercing green eyes then met yours, your face flushing with embarrassment while panic filled you. Your eyes widened as their lust-filled ones stared at you, your hand nervously going to cover your eyes while you other hand reached backwards in search of the door handle.

"I..uh..Iwillbegoingnowbye, sorry!" you blurted out, desperately trying to find this stupid door handle before turning around and trying to rush out of the room. God, you should have knocked.

"Wait Y/n," sinfully groaned one of the women, making your entire body freeze on the spot, arousal flooding through you at the tone of their voice, the way your name fell from their lips. Wait, did one of them actually say your name, or was your mind playing tricks on you? Maybe, just maybe, you had a very, very, very little crush on both of them, how could you not? Natasha was one of the fiercest women you had ever met but she was also kind and extremely smart when it came to thinking of quick solutions on missions. Wanda was also the sweetest woman you had ever met, bonding with you over the sitcoms you both watched whilst also being the most caring person ever, always keen on trying to make you laugh or happy.

"Y/n, come here," Wanda practically whined whilst rolling her hips down on Natasha's lap, her hands moving to grope at her chest while another small sigh left her lips.

Hesitantly, you made your way back to them, eyes firmly fixated on anything but the young Sokovian riding the assassin, the soft moans spilling from her. Whilst trying to think of an apology, you stumbled over an item as you walked over to their bed, eyes casting down to see a red set of lace panties scattered on the floor, a visible wet patch of arousal on them making you groan quietly. The sound, however, was not missed by Natasha who leaned up to Wanda with her signature smirk engraved onto her face, hands now free of the magic. The redhead murmured something lowly into the witch's ear, a guttural moan leaving Wanda's lips as she snapped her eyes back over to your shy and nervous form.

When you reached the bed, you kept your eyes on the floor, not wanting to meet the gaze of either intimidating woman and tried to still have some sort of respect for them. The room filled with a brief silence, you practically able to hear your heart pounding in your chest, ready for them to be angry or upset with you.

"So Y/n, how long did you think you could hide this from us?" taunted Wanda, a sly smirk taking over her face, eyes briefly flashing red while Natasha's gaze turned predatory. Confusion flashed across your face at the question until Natasha continued,

"The lingering looks? The squeezing of your thighs every time one of us would pin you in training? The look of want in your eyes as you practically undressed us with them?" The spy's face was stoic as she looked at you, panic flooding through your body at their words.

"I am so sorry, I didn't mean to be disrespectful-" a finger placed itself on your lips as you muffled the end of your rambling apology against their digit.

"Hush Detka," teased Wanda. "We haven't even gotten to the best bit yet," her accent wrapped around her words sultrily, adding a slight rasp as she let out a small whimper while climbing off Natasha's lap, desperate to feel full again. "There's something Natasha missed in that list, isn't there?" Her naked body came into view, finger pressing into your chin and guiding you to look at her. Your mouth parted as you saw the darkened look in her eyes, eyes raking over your body while her teeth subconsciously bit down on her bottom lip. "She missed those dirty little fantasies you have about us," Wanda purred, Natasha now at your side, strap on discarded, teeth nibbling softly on your earlobe while her fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. You glance over to the assassin, your pupils dilating at the pure hunger in her eyes along with the silent question of taking your shirt off. You nod subtly, the item then being pulled off while Wanda then guides your face back to hers with her finger on your chin once again. "We want to make those fantasies real, is that ok?"

"Yes, please," you practically moaned, Wanda's lips then crashing against yours. You moan at the intensity of the kiss, her hands threading through your hair while Natasha removes the rest of your clothes till you're left in only your underwear in front of them. Your hands hesitantly go to Wanda's waist, her pulling back from the kiss with a smile while Natasha's mouth goes to your neck, littering it in open mouthed kisses making you groan.

"You're so beautiful Kotenok," the redhead husks out, biting down softly on your neck before pulling back to press a hungry kiss to your lips. Her hand turns your face to hers, a little rougher than Wanda did, making you whimper while she smirks into the messy but hot kiss.

Soon, you're guided onto their bed, chest rising and falling with anticipation as both women crawl to your sides, laying down next to you with softer looks in their eyes at your nervous state. Wanda's mouth places open mouthed kisses along your collar bones, fingertips dragging down till they meet your chest, eyes flickering to yours to gauge your reaction.

"Tell us to stop Detka and we'll stop," she tells you, her hand slipping to your back to unclasp your bra before pulling the item off you. Natasha's hand moves further down your body, mouth recapturing yours for a searing kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and dominating it easily. It wasn't like you were putting up a fight.

"You're so wet for us Kotenok," Natasha sighs out against your lips, a small moan leaving you when she circles your clit through your soaked panties. "I bet you've been thinking about this happening for so long," you let out a shaky breath when she slides your panties to the side, Wanda's mouth kissing teasingly along your chest. "Tell me Dorogaya, who was fucking you? Whose fingers were buried deep inside you?" The moan you let out at her words was sinful, mind clouding with pleasure as Wanda finally took a nipple into her mouth, tongue swirling expertly around it.

"Fuck," you groan out, Natasha's fingers swiping through your folds, your arousal coating her fingers as she draws small and slow circles on your clit. "You," you sigh out, the redhead chuckling at your affected state before leaning in to capture your lips again, finger moving down to your entrance and sliding in. A guttural moan escapes you at her long slender digit stretching you open, her finger curling at your weak spots to have you losing yourself in the pleasure. Her fingers lazily stroke inside you, thumb moving to circle your clit while Wanda releases your chest from her mouth, a string of saliva connecting the two together before she pulls further away.

"What was I doing Detka?" Wanda murmurs near your ear, Natasha moving to kiss your neck while Wanda claims your lips.

"You were..." you trail off for a moment, Natasha sliding in another finger effortlessly causing your mind to blank for a moment, "You were riding my face." You see Wanda's eyes widen at your words, Natasha groaning at the crook of your neck, fingers thrusting into you a little faster now. "Please," you practically beg while pleading with her to sit on your face with your eyes. She presses her lips to yours roughly, moaning at your words before pulling away and positioning herself above your face, Natasha's face now at yours.

"Be a good girl and make me come," Wanda husks out, fingers running through your hair as she slowly lowers herself onto your face. Both of you moan at the contact, her moaning at the way your tongue expertly swirls around her clit, hands gripping her thighs and pulling her closer while you moan at the taste of her, and the way Natasha starts to pepper kisses along your inner thighs. You thrust your tongue into the witch, groaning into her at the warm and wet feeling of her pussy clenching around you, moving your hands so that you can circle her clit.

Natasha moves to lick a stripe up your core, you moaning lewdly into Wanda as the assassin's tongue swipes over your clit, her mouth occasionally sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves to have you bucking against her face. Her fingers start to pump into you at a merciless pace, Wanda's hands tightening in your hair as she rolls her hips against your face. You decide to flatten your tongue, letting her rut against it while moans spill from her lips.

"Shit that's it Detka, right there," Wanda moans, lolling her head back and showing off her defined jawline and neck, a groan leaving you when you open your eyes to admire her body. Her hips frantically start to rock against your face, Natasha's fingers driving you delirious with pleasure as your orgasm nears. "I'm gonna come-" Wanda cuts herself off with a scream, hips stuttering as her cum drips onto your tongue, a guttural noise leaving you at the feeling and taste of her.

Natasha curls her fingers inside you at the perfect spot, your body tensing as your orgasm rips through your body, a loud moan being muffled by Wanda's thighs around your head. Your legs shake with the intensity of your orgasm, the spy fucking you through it and straight into a second making your mind completely clouded with pleasure. Your body trembles as she lets you ride out your aftershocks, Wanda climbing off your face and softly cupping your cheeks and pressing a kiss to your lips, moaning at the taste of herself while you whimper when Natasha pulls out.

"You did so good for us Detka," Wanda softly whispers, seeing how tired you were becoming after two powerful orgasms tearing through your body.

"We're so proud of you," Natasha adds after sliding one of her digits into her mouth, groaning at the taste of you before offering Wanda the other, a moan escaping her as she hollows her cheeks around her girlfriend's finger, cleaning your arousal off it. You watch with an awed expression, a groan leaving your mouth at the sight.

Before you can worry about whether they want you to stay or not, Wanda snakes her arm around your body, bringing you closer to her and letting your face rest at the crook of her neck, your gentle breaths tickling her skin. Your body jumps a little when you feel Natasha clean you off with a cloth, not wanting you to sleep without being washed a bit and helps her girlfriend before discarding the cloth in the bathroom and returning to the bed with you two in it. Her body slots in behind yours like the lost piece of a puzzle, one of her toned arms wrapping around your waist like Wanda's, her mouth pressing a soft kiss to the base of your neck. Wanda also places a soft kiss to your hair, your body drifting off to sleep in the safety and comfort of their arms while the other two women share a knowing look.

[scarletwidowsbaby]

pity the arsonist

switch!wanda x bottom!reader x top!natasha

previous part : common tongue

summary ➞ set one week after wanda’s first swing at sex with you and natasha. wanda is more than eager to get back into bed with you but she begins to fear she’ll lose that privilege if she doesn’t learn to take charge. word count : 3.6k

disclaimer ➞ 18+, strong language, smut, office/semi-public sex, fingering (r receiving), phone sex, dirty talk (praise + pet names), mommy/daddy kink, voyeurism (idk if you can really call it that but whatever)

a/n ➞ this is even less edited than my other works so i really hope they’re aren’t too many mistakes. this piece of work is not to be copied or translated anywhere. thank you for reading!!! comments and reblogs appreciated <3 gif source wanda , natasha

Got a meeting at 9, my office at 11? <3

Wanda still had the pale yellow post-it note from you folded and shoved into her pocket as she sunk back against the, overwhelmingly comfortable, black leather armchair in your office.

As her eyes flickered curiously around the empty room, it dawned on her that she had always been too nervous around you to actually take in the dynamics of the space. Given her newfound knowledge on the interior design of your home, she could easily tell that you had decorated both spaces. They just had your taste.

The walls, for instance, were a soft grey color that contrasted against the deep black marble flooring which stretched the expanse of the building. There was a large wall of windows directly behind your desk doing an excellent job at allowing the afternoon sun to bathe the room in a soft light.

Or maybe that was just your scent lingering that clouded her senses and filled her brain with nothing but you.

She heard you before she could actually see you. The distinct sound of your heels escorted the silence that had suddenly fallen over the entire top floor - as if every individual employee were too afraid they’d be fired if they even breathed loud enough.

Wanda briefly wondered what they would think if they had gotten the chance to see you the way she had; sunk onto your knees with submission written into the depths your irises.

Would they still be so scared of you if they had seen the way you squirmed and whined and begged? If they had heard the filthy way Natasha talked to you - and the pathetic way you got off on it?

The door closed somewhere behind her and the tension in her shoulder blades started to melt away, even more so when she felt your hand brush down the curve of her bicep.

“Remind me, the next time Tony Stark wants to meet with me, to send someone who can stomach listening to him talk about himself for two whole hours.” You suggested sarcastically in a low voice as your head fell to press a kiss to the skin just behind her ear.

“The only person who can stand listening to Mr. Stark talk is Mr. Stark.” Her assessment made you laugh, stacking the papers from your hand into a neat pile at the corner of your desk. “You’re right about that.”

She studied you as you moved towards the other side of the furniture, all but collapsing tiredly into the large office chair that - if you asked Wanda - you looked entirely too delicious perched in; seething with a power that most people could only dream to possess.

Your eyes met hers in the following moments and a smile pressed onto your lips, “I missed you this morning.” Wanda fought the blush that threatened to redden her cheeks as she breathed a, slightly embarrassed, ‘missed you too’ into the air.

It’s not that she hadn’t wanted to wake up with you - all she thought about these days was waking up with you and Natasha by her side - but the inner battle to shed away the innocence that still barricaded inside her chest had gotten the better of her the last couple of nights.

When she was alone in her house, swimming in a pool of her own pitiful thoughts, she couldn’t help but be angry with herself. She wanted to do it - take control of you the same way she had watched Natasha do, fuck you with the same confidence and power that Natasha had.

But she wasn’t Natasha.

She had never taken control of anyone.

She still blushed when she caught you looking at her as you passed each other in the hallway. When she met Natasha’s eyes on the way to the mailbox in the evenings, her ears went hot at the smug wink and smirk the red-head sent in her direction.

Your voice broke the spiral of thoughts tumbling around in her mind, “Nat isn’t as grumpy in the mornings when you’re there.” It was a lighthearted joke, very obviously. But the moment the words left your lips, there was no stopping the blood that instantly rushed her cheeks and it was absolutely futile to try and bite back the smile that followed soon after.

A soft silence fell between the two of you then, but it was far from uncomfortable as Wanda watched you work from the laptop in front of you. She thought about what to do next - the wheels in her head turning with a plethora of things to say or do, if she could manage actually finding the courage to.

“You’re thinking too hard.” You announced matter-of-factly without bothering to tear your attention away from the computer or cease typing away at the keys. A huff of agreement fell from her lips and then it was quiet again.

“You don’t have to always be nervous around me. Or Natasha. Clearly, we only bite when you want us to.” The joke did do the job of easing her down the cliff, especially as your own smile widened and you sent a glance in her direction. “We may be intense people but we’re not going to hurt you.” Your eyes were soft with sincerity.

She didn’t say anything in return, nothing even bothered to form at the tip of her tongue. After watching her chew anxiously at her bottom lip for a few short seconds, you shook your head and rose to your feet.

She watched attentively as you ambled towards her your heels echoed against the floor like music to her ears. Your smile never faltered, even as you planted yourself atop of the desk.

Her eyes flickered shamelessly to where your skirt rode up your thighs and immediately shot back up to meet your amused expression. She would have been completely embarrassed, but that was no use.

The diversion of her attention caused you to cock a single eyebrow as you motioned for her to stand, “Come here.” On shaky legs, she rose to her feet and shuffled towards you until she was situated directly between your parted knees.

“I mean it, Wanda.” The sound of her name rolling so pointedly off your tongue only made her legs weaker and she braced her hands against the edge of the desk to keep herself upright.

Your fingers moved to her wrists, guiding her to press her open palms against either of your thighs, “Relax.”

You could see the hesitation flash in her eyes, fading away just as quiet before she heaved towards you and caught your lips. The surprised squeak that pushed from your throat vibrated against her lips, your hands flying up to cup her cheeks.

As if trying to catch you off guard, her tongue drew a soft strike against your bottom lip and you welcomed her to delve into your mouth with delirium.

Her hands tightened tentatively around your thighs, squeezing the flesh between slender fingers and forcing the fabric of your skirt towards your hips. The metal of her rings were cold and surely leaving crescent shaped indents in your skin.

Her eyes were dark when she pulled away, breath entangling with yours in the space between you both as you looked at each other without a single word.

You didn’t need to question what she was asking in her head as her eyes darted between yours and her neck twitched forward hopefully - keep going?

You nodded a silent encouragement as you watched her brain work overtime to decide whether that had been her cue to continue.

You slid your hands to the back of her head and tangled your fingers in the brunette locks at the base of her skull, just in time for her lips to find yours again; much more rushed and eager now.

You could feel her straighten against you as she regained some of the strength in her legs which she used to push yours further open and step closer.

You were prepared to take the lead, without Natasha there you figured someone would have to, but her nails began to rake against the inside of your thighs and you decided to let her explore what she was capable of doing on her own.

You hummed a soft ‘Yeah, just like that, Wanda’, and she took a moment to bask in the praise before brushing her tongue against yours and using your gasp as an excuse to move her lips down to your neck.

A shuttered moan echoed into the room, your own throat seemed surprised by the sound and you became embarrassingly glad that Natasha had convinced you to sound-proof the walls back when you first started dating. It was your turn to blush, Wanda catching the heat in your cheeks for the first time.

You looked entirely beautiful underneath her, she thought; all flushed as she watched the power dissipate from your demeanor. You were growing desperate, giving into her and she was lapping it up without a second thought.

“I’m not as weak as you think I am.” Wanda finally hissed, certainly a sharp tone for her but still a gentleness lingering somewhere behind it. She was scared to overstep, to come off wrong without the proper taunt on her voice that Natasha had.

Her teeth sunk into the skin of your collarbone and surely left a mark you’d have to half-heartedly scold her for later. But neither of you cared very much as your breathy laugh accompanied a teasing ‘then prove it’.

Of course, you didn’t actually think that she was weak - if the younger woman had taught you anything since you had hired her it was to know better than underestimate her abilities. But the opportunity was presenting itself and you were certainly going to milk whatever confidence-high she was riding for as long as you could.

She finally found it in her to brush her knuckle against the fabric of your underwear, just hard enough for you to feel the digit against your, already aching, clit.

Your head fell back, a hand leaving her neck to brace yourself against the glass surface of the desk, as she continued her eager assault down your chest. Bite marks and purple-red bruises followed her lips.

Just as her finger curled around the band of your underwear, the ring of the office phone shattered the delicate bubble the two of you had created around yourselves.

“Fucking hell.” You huffed frustratedly, pulling away to meet Wanda’s blown-out pupils as she looked up at you through her eyelashes.

Her hand begun to retreat warily from between your thighs and you quickly grabbed her wrist, urging her to continue with pleading eyes that could only be screaming please, please, please, don’t stop.

Wanda’s eyes glinted with uncertainty - but how could she deny you when you were looking at her so desperately as if she was solely responsible for the fate of your universe?

Her hands creeped up your thighs, circled around the band of your underwear, and began to guide the lacy fabric straight down the length of your legs.

Her chest filled with pride as her eyes skimmed over the wet spot in the middle of the fabric; coaxing flashbacks of the same prideful feeling that warmed her chest as she had helped Natasha fuck you nights ago.

The hand that wasn’t holding yourself up against the desk fell reluctantly and extended towards the phone, curling your fist around it and lifting it towards your ear.

“Romanoff.” You announced, heart hammering in your chest as all you could do was hope you sounded composed.

Wanda pressed her fingers to your entrance and gathered your slick on three fingers. In a surge of confidence and pure adrenaline, she locked her eyes onto yours and lifted her fingers to her lips before greedily sucking them clean.

Your teeth sinking into your bottom lip was the only line of defense between sounding out-of-breath at most and moaning straight into the phone.

“Oh, don’t sound so professional, doll.” Your eyes shot towards the phone at the sound of your wife’s voice, her number rolling across the small screen on the receiver.

The tension melted from your shoulders as Wanda returned her hand between your thighs, a single finger pushing into your cunt as far as she could and curling with intention - calculated.

Your hips craned towards her, a broken ‘b-baby’ falling somewhere between a breathy moan and a whispered calling to the red-head on the other end of the phone. You could practically hear the smirk that grew on Natasha’s lips then, imagining the way she likely leaned back in her own office chair at home and proper her feet up on the desk.

Wanda’s finger curled again against your eagerly contracting walls, the sound of your ever-growing arousal was surely audible enough for your wife to hear from where she was.

Natasha’s voice was much darker when she spoke next, “You know I love that sound of that, baby.” If you had to guess, you would have assumed that her eyes were just as dark and clouded as the ones Wanda peered up at you with.

A shuttered whimper was all your wife received in return as another ardent finger was added to aid Wanda’s ministrations inside you.

“Such pretty sounds, dove.” Natasha sung, “You by yourself in there or has my brilliant little protégé finally taken some initiative?” You would have laughed if it hadn’t have been for Wanda’s palm grinding against your clit and your continually dwindling composure. A pleasured hiss forced itself between your gritted teeth as your head fell onto the brunette’s shoulder.

“Wanda, fuck.”

Natasha laughed, loud enough for Wanda to hear. “I guess that answers that, doesn’t it?” The phone tumbled from your hands and clattered onto the desk, just in time for you to catch yourself from slipping backwards.

Wanda’s fingers sped up, hungry-looking eyes watching you closely as you ground your hips so desperately against her palm.

Blindly, your hand fumbled for the dialer and transferred the call onto speaker before quickly shooting forward and tangling into its rightful place in the back of Wanda’s head.

“So good for me.” Wanda finally mumbled, even as she feared that her sudden courage would break her strict concentration.

“Oh, I see.” Natasha stated, all signs of a smirk leaking from her voice. “Let me guess, she’s got you pinned against that gorgeous desk of yours with one of those perfect hands between your pretty thighs?” She knew what she was doing, further igniting the need in your chest.

She always knew how to add fuel to the fire.

It was only a defeated yelp but it said enough to answer her question, your hips desperately pushing forward for more, more, more; which Wanda was happy to give.

“Is she being good for you, Maximoff? Don’t you dare let her be a brat.”

Wanda groaned at your wife’s tone, quickly following up with, “So good, so fucking good.” The praise made your heart beat impossibly faster. “Want more!” You squealed as Wanda’s teeth sunk into your shoulder.

“Now that’s not how you ask for something, dove.” Natasha’s voice was harsh, something she figured Wanda wouldn’t have the heart to do yet.

But Wanda surprised all three of you as her free hand left it’s place on your thigh and gripped tightly your chin to force you to look at her, “Say ‘please’.” She demanded, the strictness in her voice yanking a pleading moan from your chest.

You were far worse than anything the word ‘needy’ could describe; on the verge of falling apart underneath the younger woman and too fucked-out to care about composure when a thousand variations is please, Wanda, please give me more! started raining from your tongue so fast they became nearly incoherent babbles.

Wanda, satisfied with the dynamic that had settled between the two of you, complied to your wishes and sunk a third finger into your cunt. You welcomed the newest intrusion, hungrily clenching around all of her fingers as your throat contracted with another loud moan.

“Mommy!” It startled Wanda, her fingers faltering for a fraction of a second before quickly working into you again at a speed you weren’t entirely sure was human. “Oh,” Natasha laughed wickedly, “Now the real fun begins.”

Wanda’s fingers curled and twisted as if she knew your body. Just when you thought you couldn’t get any more surprised at her sudden dominance, the hand from your chin fell to wrap around your throat and squeezed at either side.

“Oh, my little dove, you sound so messy.” Natasha’s comment only made you more and more desperate to cum, bucking wildly against Wanda’s hand with little regard to how outright pathetic you must have looked.

“I’m so fucking close.” Your high-pitched plead was shattered by a needy whine, one that burned in the back of your throat.

Wanda spoke up quickly, “Ask daddy if you can cum.” It was a shot in the dark, for her to even assume you called Natasha that. But her demand made your eyes fall onto her own so, even as the words tasted unfamiliar on her tongue, the glint in your eye made it worth sticking her neck out.

“Go ahead, ask her all pretty like I know you know how.”

You shuttered, bracing a hand against her shoulder as your nails curled into the delicate skin. “Daddy, please!” You gasped, “Please, please! I’ll be so good! I promise I’ll be good. Please just let me cum!”

This is what she wanted, to have complete power over you as you did nothing but take. With her fingers working inside your cunt as if she’d always be the only thing standing between you and pure bliss, there was no time for you to think. No time for strategy or counter.

On the other end of the call, it was silent for a moment, as if Natasha was very seriously contemplating her answer before a satisfied hum rang out, “Fine. But you better make it real good, dove, for playing without me.”

She sounded upset, and Wanda probably thought she was as her fingers slowed down ever so slightly, but you knew your wife better than that. She was extremely proud of Wanda’s growing desire to please you.

Your hand fell and circled around Wanda’s wrist again, urging her to keep going and go fast. Her hand sped up again; fingers pressing into that spot inside you that made your entire body twitch with need, the other tightening around your throat as you gasped for breath.

You let out a loud wail as you came, fist enclosing impossibly tighter around Wanda’s forearm and head doubling back so fast that the blood began to rush through your ears.

The sound of Wanda’s name bounced off the walls, accompanied by her praises of, “You’re so good, making Mommy so proud, baby.”

You latched your lips onto hers, desperate to ground yourself back into the world of feeling. It was a hasty kiss, rushed and sloppy as Wanda’s fingers collected the drool that dribble down your chin before pushing her fingers into your inviting mouth.

You whined around her fingers, shuttering away from her as the feeling became overwhelming. Her fingers slowed to a stop and rested inside your cunt for a moment as you clenched around them.

Most of the encouraging praises from Natasha sounded no more than radio static on your overdriven ears. You did catch the rewarding ‘good job, my dove’ that she hummed as the excitement subsided and the room fell into a chorus of heavy breathing and the occasional involuntary whimper as Wanda retracted her fingers completely and licked them clean.

Natasha let the both of you unwind for a moment, listening to the sound of your breathing evening out in sync before she spoke, “Wanda, I expect to see you tonight. It sounds like a reward is in order.” An excited shiver fell down Wanda’s spine.

“Yes ma’am.” The word made Natasha scoff playfully, “Oh don’t pull that shit with me now, what did I tell you?”

“Sorry, Nat.” Wanda corrected herself with a blush.

“Now do me a favor, sweetheart. Take that pretty little lace piece you’ve got laying on the floor and keep it safe for me, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes at your wife’s antics as Wanda bent down and scooped your underwear into her hands before tucking them into the same pocket as her beloved post-it note.

It took her a moment before her face scrunched in confusion, glancing down at where your underwear resided in her pocket and then shooting up to meet your eyes, “How did she know…?”

A giggle fell from your lips, your hand coming up to point into the top corner of the room. She followed with her eyes, until they landed on a camera hanging from the ceiling. She looked back at you then, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“What?” You started, cheeky grin playing on your lips, “This is one of my favorite places to play.”

[scarletwidowsbaby]

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: Can I request sub beefy reader with a dick and dom fem nat reader calls her mommy, nat had been teasing reader all day with revealing clothes soft touches and the casual bulge grab while they’re out in public readers so needy n begs nat to just touch them but nat wants to wait til they’re home. They finally get gome n nat haves her way with readers cock playing with the tip teasing them more til nat gets needy too and rides reader into oblivion 

AN: Reader has a penis. No pronouns used.

(The bottoms better blow this up and not let me down.)

Keep reading

[scarletwidowsbaby]

ooof… it’s-it’s a bit hot in here… 🥵

Natasha Romanoff x Tattooed!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: Hiiiii I’m the one who asked for the tattooed reader with nat and I wanted to say thank you, I love it… I have another request… Maybe younger reader, who is a virgin, with nat who literally praises them throughout the whole thing and just kind of guides them… Not necessarily a totally innocent kind of reader, just that they don’t know exactly what to do. G!P or male reader would be great, just whatever you’re comfortable with, and if you can/want, reader has tattoos (if you haven’t noticed I’m kinda obsessed with them). Hope you had/have a great day❤️ (sorry if it’s kind of confusing, English isn’t my first language sooo yeah) 

AN: Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Read the original blurb here!

Keep reading

[scarletwidowsbaby]

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader (amab)

Series Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Age Gaps, Doctor!Wanda Maximoff, Spider-Person!Reader, Doc Ock!Agatha Harkness, Black Cat!Natasha Romanoff | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: At the edge of your career as a university student, you explore young adulthood being a superhero to the people of New York while simultaneously juggling relationships with friends and foes.

Parts:

🕸️ Wanda’s Web

🕸️ A Fresh Start

🕸️ Stepping Stones (TBA)

🕸️ It’s On Again (TBA)

[scarletwidowsbaby]

Tasty Treat

Summary: Natasha wants to treat you to a nice day out, a party, and a wonderful night.

Pairings: Vampire!Nat x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: BDSM elements, fluffy lovey-dovey stuff, hungry vampires, possessive Natasha, sex toys, cunnilingus, overstimulation, orgasm denial. 18+ only, minors dni.

A/N: Pls let me know if there's any spelling mistakes or warnings I have missed. I am very tired as I'm writing this :)

*gif credits to owner*

It was early in the morning when you felt a few feather-light touches on your body. The softest, yet strongest hand on earth dragged its perfectly manicured nails across the skin beneath your shirt, creating tantalising tingles that shivered up your spine.

“Mmph.” You grumbled, adjusting to face away from the smirking redhead.

“Baby…” She said in a singsong voice, shuffling closer and breathing gently down your neck.

“Mmmmph.” You grumbled again.

“Come on, sweetheart, open those precious eyes for me. I have an exciting day planned ahead for us, but first… you have to get up…” She cooed, kissing and nibbling at the skin beneath your ear.

“I’m hungry…” She whispered, grazing her sharp fangs across your neck yet not drawing any blood.

“Then eat.” You mumbled.

“Uh uh uh.” She tutted. “You agreed on the first night we had sex that you would eat and drink water when I feed on you. That includes now.” She said, a bit more sternly.

You let out a long grumbly whine before shooting up, glaring at her from over your shoulder before slowly sliding out of the bed. You were dressed only in a shirt and some boxer shorts, grumbling incoherently as your mane of curls followed you to the kitchen. 

By the time Natasha was dressed in her favourite day clothes and in the kitchen, she was delighted to see you munching on some bacon and eggs, as well as a piece of toast.

“Good girl, my precious little treat.” She smirked, brushing your curls to the side to expose your neck. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You grumbled, though secretly happy from her praise.

“All mine.” She hummed as she kissed your neck, gently soothing the area before she bit down.

You winced at the initial sting but set the 30-second timer on the microwave, feeling her lips seal around your neck before she started feeding. Her hands wrapped around your waist and held you close to her, though the thumb on her right hand moved to caress the skin beneath your belly button, over and over again. 

When the timer went off, she pulled her fangs out and retracted them into their small little points. “Keep eating, baby girl.” She murmured, licking up the blood on your neck and staying there until she saw the bite marks heal. 

“But I'm not hungry.” You grumbled, but she spun you around quickly. 

“You’re eating and that’s final.” She said, picking up a piece of egg on toast to feed you with. 

You rolled your eyes but accepted the food with your open mouth, letting her slide it in past your teeth. She even went as far to start moving your jaw, but you swiped her hand away softly and chewed it yourself. “I’m not a baby.”

“No, but in comparison to my age, you are a foetus.” She teased.

After she helped you finish your breakfast, she guided you back to the room to get dressed. ‘Simple jeans and a shirt is fine’, were the words she wanted you to follow. But something in you wanted to get back at her for babying you. 

And get back at her you would. 

“Okay, come on. Where’s your day ring?” You asked, searching around the place before she held her hand up, the ring already on it.

“And you know what day it is.” She smirked, holding a small necklace in hand. 

You rolled your eyes, walking over to her and lifting your hair to let her clasp the necklace. “I’m starting to think buying this for us was a bad idea.” 

She shifted the small key so that the clasp locked. “You love it.” She teased, knowing full well that you did before putting the key in her jeans pocket.

The two of you first started at the aquarium. Natasha knew it was your favourite place to go, so you walked through the halls and gazed at every fish you could find. There was even a reptilian exhibit, where many endangered species were being rehabilitated. 

After the aquarium, Natasha took you to lunch. She had confiscated your credit cards for the day, and even took your phone when you were in line just to make sure you didn’t pay for anything. A few hundred years of wealth grows dramatically, and she is easily worth over $100 million. 

The lavish cafe was also a well-known vampire-friendly space, with a private room if you needed a ‘drink’ or you could even request a splash of blood in your coffee, but BYO, of course. 

Afterwards, she brought you back home, humming softly to herself as she led you through the place. “So, malyshka, tonight we have a special party happening at the Avengers.” She started.

“Ah yes, the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes who have a werewolf representing America, a vampire representing complete hotness, a Hulk and a god. Oh, and the two humans.” You smirked. 

She grinned back at you. “Yes. We have a party. And I want you to be my date.” 

You looked at her, all suddenly nervous. She raised an eyebrow. “What’s up? Why are you making that face?” 

You looked down, fiddling with the necklace. “Are they… you know… is it a supernatural-friendly party? Or just you guys and other humans?” 

She chuckled, seeing through your fears. “Detka… that necklace shows everyone that is supernatural… that you are mine.” She said firmly, gripping the necklace and pulling you closer.

“This is a tungsten alloy, which is capable of 500,000 PSI. You, my dear, cannot even take it off by force. Even I would struggle to take it off by force, but I have a key.” She smirked.

“As well as this, that mark on your neck, though it fades from time to time, is another example of who you belong to. Any vampire, werewolf, succubus, or even demon could not claim you as yours. Nobody else’s fangs or canines fit on those marks like mine do.”

She waited patiently for you to visibly relax, gently running her finger against the skin of your neck whilst she still held the necklace. When she saw your shoulders fall minutely, she gently kissed your lips. 

“There’s my good girl. Now, are we feeling masc tonight or fem?” 

You blushed softly. “Is it okay if I’m feeling masc?” 

She cupped your cheek, still holding the necklace. “Of course it is, detka. You're always allowed to feel however you see yourself. And even if that feeling changes, no matter the frequency, it doesn't change how I feel about you. Not one bite.” She smirked at her pun.

You nodded, feeling relieved and assured. “Then I’m feeling masc.” 

She smiled warmly. “Good. I have just the suit for you.” 

As you entered the luxurious party, paid for by the billionaire himself, you saw a lot of heads turn. Natasha was famous among the supernatural community, and to have you as her loving ‘blood bag’ so-to-speak made you famous as well.

“You look wonderful, my darling.” She said before kissing your cheek. 

And you most certainly did, dressed in a suit with a base of maroon, Natasha’s favourite colour, with black embroidery weaving all across the marble-designed swirls. The dress shirt beneath was black too, the satin shimmering against the lights off the disco ball. Natasha had dressed to match you, with a beautiful maroon gown that had a slit from the mid-thigh downwards.

“Wowie!” Tony whistled as Natasha led you to the small group. “When Natasha said you were hot, I did not expect that. Tony Stark, pleasure to meet you.” 

“Y/N L/N. Pleasure as well, Tony.” You smiled back. 

You noticed Steve’s lingering gaze on you and you chuckled as Natasha began to subtly play with your hair, revealing the bite mark on your neck. “She’s mine, Rogers.” She said in a singsong voice, flexing on the ‘mine’. 

“Understood, Romanoff.” He nodded, clearing his throat as he flashed his werewolf eyes at me. “Pleased to meet you, Y/N.” He held his hand out to shake yours.

“As am I for you, Steve.” You replied warmly. 

“Want a drink, detka?” She asked, to which you nodded.

Throughout the evening, the Avengers recounted stories upon stories, with Thor’s being the most avid and attention-grabbing. You sat next to Natasha on the arm of the couch chair, her arm possessively yet gently holding your waist, and she never left you alone unless it was to get you a drink. 

Whilst Thor was telling another one of his adventures, Natasha noticed a few vampires watching you closely, particularly in the way that your neck was unprotected by your curls. She slowly stood and whispered in your ear. “I’ll be back, baby girl. Sit tight for me, okay?” 

You nodded, kissing her cheek as she walked towards the vampires. “And just what do you think you’re looking at?” She hissed. 

“A tasty little treat, that’s for sure.” The lead vampire of the group smirked.

“Well then, shall we test that theory?” She said, holding up a small vial of blood. 

The vampires all stared at it and when she opened it, it had a dropper. “This is a special kind of her blood. She had an injection the morning I took this out - made her blood taste like candy.” 

She put one drop on each vampire’s tongue, smirking as she closed the bottle. After a few seconds, they all began to gag and groan, their stomachs aching. 

“Oh… I probably should have mentioned this…” She chuckled darkly, pulling the leader’s head up by his chin to reveal a small ball resting at the bottom of the vial.

“It has wolfsbane.” 

She watched the others stagger over to a corner to try and recover, still holding the leader’s chin in hand. He tried to shove her away, or at least her hand, but she didn’t budge. Slowly, his jaw became painful. 

“If you ever… and I mean, ever… come near my detka again…” She seethed, his jaw cracking underneath the strength of her hand. 

“I will rip your head from the corners of your lips.” She snarled, her eyes completely black. 

He let out a hiss of pain as his jaw finally broke, glaring at Natasha before he retreated to his friends. 

“Baby?” You muttered from behind, having noticed the man on his knees before her. 

She spun around, and smiled at you, taking a deep breath to calm herself. When she reopened her eyes, they had returned to normal. “Alright, detka. Two more drinks and then we’ll go home. Same drink again, my love?” 

You nodded, thanking her for buying your non-alcoholic drink. She admired your strength in not submitting to peer pressure, but she also knew that you didn’t always like being around others when drunk. 

The things you said were… somewhat inappropriate.

After two drinks, which equated to an hour, she took you home. The door unlocked with ease and she led you inside, helping you take off your suit. 

“You are so beautiful.” She murmured, kissing the back of your neck before pulling your hair out of its style. 

“Natty…” You chuckled softly, blushing.

“Is my sweet girl blushing? Already?” She said, pulling the suit jacket off of your arms. 

You looked to the side in an effort to hide it, but she could clearly see your face in the mirror. How your pupils were slightly blown, how your cheeks were tinged with rose. 

“Looking in the mirror, milaya. No looking away until I say so.” She said, the power dynamic between you two exposing itself once again.

She stood behind you and her hands emerged at your sides, unbuttoning your dress shirt from top to bottom, pausing at the end to let her hands roam. She noticed a certain colour to your chest and when she removed your shirt, she gasped softly. 

“Oh my…” She grinned at the sight of the red lace bra. “How delightful…” 

You blushed beneath her gaze but still made eye contact with her in the mirror. “You like it, Nat?” 

“I’m Mistress tonight, baby girl.” She lightly corrected. “But yes, I do like it. I adore it.” 

She moved in front of you, gripping the necklace as she pulled you in for a kiss. “Eyes on me now.” She muttered against your lips. 

“Yes, Mistress.” You answered, letting her brush her tongue against your lips before entwining your own tongue, teasing and reaching everywhere she wanted to. 

“Safe word is wolfsbane, okay?” She said before leading you to the bed, lying you down. 

“Okay, Mistress.” You nodded, watching her take off your shoes and socks before crawling up to straddle your waist. 

“Now, I want you to close your eyes for me, darling.” She guided, brushing her fingers over your eyes. 

Once your eyes were closed, you could hear her moving around in the room. When she came back, you felt a sting of cold metal on your stomach, an intentional act of Natasha’s. 

“Now… you say ‘wolfsbane’ and I will use my enhanced abilities to untie you as fast as I can.” She coached. “This is our third time doing this, so it’s still new. Please don’t ever be afraid to use your safe word, my sweet girl.” 

You nodded. “I understand, Natasha.” 

She didn’t chastise you for saying her name, knowing you were being serious and assertive. “Okay. Here we go.”

You could feel her lean down on you, the weight distributing differently in the bend of the bed. Her nails, suddenly now not so long as this morning, traced up your body to reach your cheeks. 

“So soft…” She murmured to herself before one hand left your cheek, only to return with a silk blindfold. 

“Just so you don’t cheat…” She teased, making you chuckle. 

“That’s my good girl…” She cooed, tying it slowly around your head. 

Then, suddenly, she pulled your arms up near the headboard and with soft handcuffs, locked your wrists together. She remembered that you didn’t like being tied to the headboard, so she didn’t this time. 

“Thank you.” You murmured, acknowledging the act. 

“You’re welcome.” She answered. 

You felt her hand creep towards your neck, holding it gently. Her thumb played with the chain of the necklace as she leaned down to whisper by your ear. “Tonight, malysh… you’re all mine.” 

She pulled back after kissing down your neck, gently palming your breasts through the lace bra. She even moved to unclasp it, revealing your hard nipples that she licked around. 

“M-Mistress…” You hummed softly, already squeezing your thighs to quell the sensation. 

“Hush.” She whispered, licking a stripe from your pebbled nipple, up your neck, to your lips where she kissed you gently. 

“God, I get so turned on watching you like this. All laid out for me, tied up, like a perfect little doll for me to play with.” She grinned, biting down on her bottom lip. 

She noticed your blush and began to gently run her fingers up and down your upper chest, now that it was completely bare for her. “Is my sweet little treat blushing.” 

“Mistress.” You whined, moving your hips slightly to try and get her going. 

“We’re starting off slow, baby girl. Remember?” She said, though she slid off of your waist. 

Her silk-smooth hands trailed down before getting to your hips, tugging on the waistband of your pants. “Mhm.” You nodded, giving her permission to take them off. 

“And there’s even more surprises here.” She grinned, placing a small kiss at the top of the lingerie boxers.

You chuckled softly. “You like?” 

“I love.” She whispered, suddenly at your ear again which made you shiver. 

You could feel her slide onto her side next to you, one hand roaming all over your body. “You’re so beautiful…” She murmured, gently scratching over your skin before she came to your boxers. 

“Off?” 

“Not yet, please.” You said.

“Good girl for communicating.” She purred by your ear before sliding her hand beneath the band, using two fingers to gently play with your clit. 

Whilst she teased you there for a moment, she used her fangs to gently nip and mark your neck, not caring if you ended up with a ring of black and blue in the morning. You were hers, in every way, and she wanted the entire world to know. 

You squeaked when you felt her fingers enter your core, making her chuckle as she began to flex them in and out. “Breathe.” She said, reminding you. 

Your chest moved up and down in a quicker motion, your moans making her purr even more. “That’s a good girl.”

You placed your tied-up hands on your forehead, slowly losing your mind over the way she had you wrapped around her fingers - or rather, addicted to her fingers. 

“I’m gonna use you tonight, milaya. We’re not stopping until I cum.” She said, though of course her words came with the exception of the safe word.

Your back arched as she found your sweet g-spot with her fingers, making your breathing shudder. You tried to sit up but she pinned you down by the handcuffs’ chain, smirking as she upped the pace of her fingers. 

She watched you squirm and wriggle beneath her like some form of prey, and she was hungry to hear you climax. 

“Come on, baby girl. Cum whenever you want.” She said, sinking her fangs into your neck. 

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, the combined sensation of relentless fingering and being bitten sending you over the edge.

She kept going for a few more seconds, helping you ride through your orgasm and giving you a bit of torture with it as well, only subsiding when she tasted the sudden sweetness of endorphins in your blood. 

“That’s heavenly.” She muttered, pulling away from your neck to taste the sweetness directly off of her fingers. 

She then pressed her fingers to your lips, watching you with delight as you sucked on her fingers. Adoration set into her eyes and she slowly retreated from the bed. 

“W-Where are you going, Mistress?” You stammered, but soon felt her weight bend the mattress. 

“Not far, my love. Just getting some more toys.” She smirked, brushing a dildo vibrator and some nipple clamps over your stomach.

“Oh boy.” You muttered; the nipple clamps were new. 

“We’ll take it one toy at a time, my treat.” She cooed, slowly adjusting you so that you were sitting slightly more upright to lean against the headboard.

She checked your puffy little pussy and began to slowly grind the vibrator against it, lubing it up. She made sure you were comfortable, reading every single kind of behavioural marker you gave off, and gently kissed your lips. 

“Are you comfortable with a ball gag tonight, baby girl? Or no?” She asked, still grinding the vibrator against you. 

“Maybe… Maybe another night?” You replied before she kissed you again. 

“Of course.” 

Now with enough lubrication, she turned the vibrator onto a low setting, pressing it up against your already sensitive clit. Immediately, your hands came down from their place above your head, and she chuckled. 

“No. I told you where those go.” She said teasingly, holding them up above your head.  “I might have to punish you for that.”

She then pushed the head of the vibrator into your entrance, watching you squirm a bit more with glee. Your legs were spread out as she sat between them, unable to do anything except wrap around her if you wished. 

“God, you’re so hot when you squirm.” She grinned, pushing it in a bit more before pressing it right where she knew your g-spot was. 

“Mistress!” You moaned out loudly, taking gasping breaths. 

You fidgeted and tried to get away, but she held you steady. She let go of your arms to brush your clit with her thumb and you were almost thrown over the edge and slammed into the river below. 

“Please! Please can I cum?” You begged. 

“Wait.” She said, leaning in to pinch your nipples with the clamps. She turned off the vibrator, smirking to herself as she saw you relax. 

“Take some breaths, milaya.”

You did as asked, taking some deep breaths even if they shuddered. “Okay. I’m ready.” 

She leaned in and gently sank her fangs into your neck, ready to throw you over the edge as quickly as she could. With her enhanced abilities, she turned the vibrator back on and began to slam it against your g-spot, almost abusing the power it gave her over you. 

“Oh God!” You cried out, your legs shaking before you tightened them around Natasha’s waist. 

“Cum for me.” Natasha murmured against your skin, tasting the second rush of endorphins in your blood. 

You mewled out an incredibly submissive sound, almost like a whine but squeakily. Your hips stuttered on the vibrating dildo, heavy breaths moving your chest up and down greatly. 

“O-Orange! Orange!” You said, and she turned off the vibrator and let everything calm down. She removed the nipple clamps, guessing that they were an added factor you weren’t expecting. 

“There we go, milaya. Such a good girl for me.” She cooed, pulling away from your neck and licking up the blood dripping down her chin. 

She waited patiently for you to breathe through the intense orgasmic pleasure, watching your behaviour markers until she was happy. She leaned back in and gently kissed you. “How was that?” 

“I-Intense.” You stammered before sighing. “But good. Really good.” 

She grinned, removing your blindfold. “You have one more thing to do tonight. I told you we’d only stop until you made me cum.”

You nodded, remembering it. “Y-Yeah. I remember you saying that, Mistress.” She gently shook her head, correcting you on the name. “The BDSM is going away now. It’s just Natty or Natasha now, angel.” 

You nodded again, feeling a bit lightheaded in the brain. “So… what did you want me to do?”

She smirked lightly. “Your favourite thing - eat me out.”

Your eyes lit up and you nodded eagerly, but she put her hand on top of your cuffed ones. “But… the vibrator stays in. On a low setting, but it stays in.”

“Okay. Okay okay okay.” You giggled, watching her unlock the cuffs and turn on the vibrator again before you basically tackled her and pushed her down on the bed. 

You grinned as you saw how wet she was, immediately licking a stripe up her puffy labia. “So good. You’re the undead, how do you taste so good?” You moaned softly.

She lightly gripped your hair and smirked. “I was turned during sex, baby girl. I’ll taste this good forever.” 

“Good god.” You hummed, suckling at her clit for a moment before delving two fingers into her core. 

“Ungh…” She groaned, gripping your hair slightly tighter.

She pushed her legs over your shoulders, the sides of her thighs brushing against your face. In and out, a steady rhythm you built. You knew how Natasha worked, more than anyone else did. You knew her heart, mind and soul. 

And now you knew her body like the back of your hand. 

“I-I’m gonna… cum soon…” She panted. 

“Good. I wanna taste you.” You muttered, putting another finger in and upping the pace. 

With three more loud groans, her grip on your hair tightened to the maximum and she came on your face, a small squirt of her cum landing as a dollop on your tongue. You eagerly licked up everything until she firmly pushed you off, covering her swollen pussy. 

“Far out, you’re like a fresh vampire except it’s cum that you want, not blood.” She chuckled, a sheen of sweat over her body. 

You grinned, licking up the residue on your lips before kissing her. You felt fatigue start to crawl over your body, having already reduced your legs to jelly. “Clean up time?” You asked. 

She nodded, kissing you once more before she picked you up and took you to the bathroom. Whilst you soaked in the bath, she cleaned up the bed, thankful for putting down towels beforehand. Soon, she joined you, washing over your body with her hands. 

“Natty?” You looked up at her. 

“Yes, my beautiful girl?” She smirked, gently kissing your neck. 

“Today was lovely.” You commented. 

“Indeed it was. You have given a lot to me today, entertained a lot of me as well. Letting me pay for you, show you off in your beautiful suit…” She grinned, kissing your forehead as she brought you out of the bed. 

She dried you down and put you in some pyjamas of hers before pulling you to the bed, laying you down next to her. Natasha was an expert of aftercare, having practised for centuries, and rested your head on her shoulder as she gently ran her fingers over your body. 

“Goodnight, my tasty treat.” She kissed your temple before gently humming a 14th century lullaby.

“Goodnight…” You mumbled, nuzzling into her as you fell asleep.

.

.

.

A/N: No part 2. :)

[scarletwidowsbaby]

Three-headed dragon (Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader)

Summary: Three times Rhaenyra marked you, and one time you did too. Or snippets of the love story I so wanted to tell but didn’t feel confident enough to write.

Warnings: Implied smut. Dance of the dragons. Canon character death (Not Rhaenyra)

Rquested: Yes!

A/N: I have not read the books, and I have only gotten one hickey in my life. I hope my ability to describe it's alright. Ignore the bra and the hegemonic body in the first picture, it's for the vibes.

“How many years have you spent by my side?” Rhaenyra asks, as you fix her hair in the mirror. It’s an important day, even if none of you know it at the time. It’s early. Her husband is off somewhere, no longer sleeping in the same bed as her. She is too pregnant, she jokes. You doubt it. You have long wondered what her relationship with Prince Daemon is. Are they star crossed lovers, who finally get their happy ending? Are they Uncle and Niece, married out of political convenience? You can’t tell.

You know which one you prefer, though. It must be kept secret, this deep-seated, long-lasting admiration for your Princess. You have been through it all, together. Youth, marriages, motherhood, widowhood. Ruining it now, with your feelings, would be foolish.

“Since we were sixteen.” You place different ribbons over her hair, testing, draping. It’s not your job, technically. You are a noblewoman in your own right, not supposed to be here on Dragonstone, but back in the North, where your long deceased husband’s bones rest.

Not meant for marriage, and ready to start your career as a Septa, you had found yourself as a companion to a much younger Rhaenyra. She had secured, in an admirable move, a marriage by proxy with some old lord. You had not even managed to reach the North when he had passed, leaving you as the sole heir to a small castle close to the Boltons.

With such undesirable neighbors, and the news that your Lord Husband was dead, you had decided to come back into Rhaenyra’s service. Her companion through childhood, now by her side during the trials of adulthood.

“Sixteen. Such a long time.” Rhaenyra squeezed your hand, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Served loyally and never asking for anything in return.”

“Only your friendship.” Your love, you wanted to scream. Your love, for you to see me, since I am still here and I want you. Don’t you see how much it has hurt me, when I am yours, yours, and you were Criston’s, then- -

But you say nothing of the sort. Not wanting to ever risk what you had. Love is selfless, you remind yourself. You can’t have her, nor can you own her. Rhaenyra is the Seven Kingdoms, Aegon’s Crown. You cannot hope to own her or rule her. The Iron Throne, as everyone knows, was not made for a woman.

“You are not my friend,” Rhaenyra says, and the shock must show on your face because she laughs. Silver bells filling the room, the laughter of a golden Princess. “You are family, by this point. Haven’t you cared for the boys as if they were yours?”

And it’s true. You have loved those children because they are half her. You have been the preferred aunt, the accomplice, and the one to teach them things as important as the proper way to hold a quill. As the saying goes, it takes a village. The children are your combined efforts, alongside hers, Daemon’s and Harwin’s.

“You are as much a mother to them as I am.” Yours. Rhaenyra is saying the boys are as much hers as they are yours. “I have been thinking.”

You are so grateful for it, you could cry. But that’s not why Rhaenyra likes you.

“Oh? You are capable of it? We must inform the Maesters.”

Rhaenyra laughs.

“More respect for your future Queen.” She tries putting on a scolding expression, but is unable to keep her face straight.

“Oh, your majesty! I never meant to offend?” You give her a mock curtsy, and she giggles a bit more. You love her like this, you have come to realize. Rhaenyra is a woman of many flaws, even as a mother. She has grown into something larger than life, a presence that commands rooms yet manages to remain full of love to give.

“Stop it, you,” Rhaenyra complains. “I’m trying to do something here. Have a gesture.”

You sober up, a smile still tugging at your lips.

“I was thinking perhaps you should start wearing my house colors. And before you say anything, I mean it as an order. I already had you made three new gowns.”

You open and close your mouth a few times.

“Dragon got your tongue?” She teases, cradling her belly.

“Rhaenyra… I… Too much?” Because you are not sure what she is saying, but definitely she is not calling you sister. She would say it plainly, your Rhaenyra. That she is telling you to wear her house colors… That’s what men do. To their wives.

“It’s what you deserve.”

She is informed of her father’s death that day. The only person she allows in the room with her, as she loses baby Visenya, is you. From woman to woman. No one else gets to glimpse the fragile human who lives inside the dragon, not even Daemon.

You declare war dressed in black and red.

The Black Council is filled with fools, despite the support they show to Rhaenyra. You know it. She knows it. That’s why it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you go to step inside the war room, and a guard bars the entrance with his lance. You have been expecting this moment. Dreading it, even. It was bound to happen.

“I am sorry, my Lady, but you are not allowed inside. Orders of the Prince consort.” Of course. Of course it's Daemon. Despite expecting it, you can’t help but be surprised at his boldness.

You don’t wish to make a scene. You truly don’t. But it scares you more than you thought it would. First, you will be banned from rooms. Then, dismissed, if not outright executed. This day had to come, you knew. Everyone had family on the other side of the war, with all the noble houses having intermarried at least once.

In the years to come, the conflict will be known as one that teared brother from brother. You don’t know this, you will not live to see it. Yet, it rattles in your bones.

“What? Prince Daemon?” You ask a little too loud. It attracts the attention of some other people in the hallway, including Rhaenyra who is just arriving. She looks more regal than ever in a black gown that compliments her pale skin.

Whispers start to break out among the gathered, surely reminding your heritage. Everyone is waiting to enter the war room, and the lance the guard has extended across the doorway is certainly drawing attention.

“What’s going on here?” Rhaenyra asks, placing a hand on your lower back and eyeing the guard with suspicion. The man lowers his head.

“My Queen, Prince Daemon has said…” He starts to explain, but Rhaenyra silences him with a dismissive wave of the hand. Ashamed, you lower your eyes.

“I do not care what he has said.”

“He has prohibited the Lady from entering…” The guard argues. Next to you, Rhaenyra tenses. You know he has already angered her, daring to speak above her like that.

“Is Prince Daemon King? Does he wear the crown?” She asks him, fiercely. The guard, wisely, keeps quiet. “She is my right hand. I will not suffer to see her disrespected.”

And with that, Rhaenyra moves the lance aside with a brush of her hand, leading you inside by the small of your back.

At the table, Daemon stands, moving some pieces along the map of Westeros. His back is to you, but he turns as he hears the commotion that precedes your arrival. A smug little smirk is on his lips, as he sees your discomfort.

“What are you…?” Daemon says, when he processes that you are, in fact, inside the room he had banned you from. Then, he notices Rhaenyra. “Ah.”

He squares his shoulders, getting ready for a fight. You try to pull away from Rhaenyra, but the hand on your back turns into claws, grasping at your dress to keep you right where you are.

“Why did you order the guards to not let her inside?” Rhaenyra speaks in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Daemon has to answer her or else. It’s a tone you had heard frequently when she tries to reign her sons in.

“Because I thought she didn’t belong in the war room, my Queen.” Daemon saunters towards you, no doubt trying to intimidate you. You lift your chin defiantly. Usually, you two avoid each other’s path. He resents your position in Rhaenyra's life, as her most trusted council. You resent that he gets to share her bed.

“You gave a ridiculous order.” Rhaenyra argues, rubbing your lower back in soothing circles, as if you were a spooked horse.

“Not so ridiculous. We have known for a long time there is a spy. Why should it not be your pet?”

“I am not! You truly think I would do something as vile?” Desperate and feeling powerless, you turn towards Rhaenyra. For a second, you truly think she might believe him. It’s the scariest second of your life. Losing her in a trap set up by Daemon? You hope she can see how genuine the next words you speak are. “I would never endanger the children, never endanger you!”

“I know.” Rhaenyra says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

“Come on. Her family is as green as they come.” Daemon raises his hands in the air, as if asking for patience to the Seven Heavens.

“My family is here.” You say, firmly. “Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Viserys, Aegon…”

“So you say. But they are not your family, are they?” It feels as if Daemon has burned you. Nothing has hurt you more. Not even the accusations about you being a spy, or the time you thought you would have to leave Rhaenyra to marry some Lord in the North.

You have spent all your life next to her. All your best years. Now, you are an old spinster, despite being barely thirty. You have always wanted children, like any noble lady in Westeros. It was too late for it now. No lord would want a widow past her prime.

Yet, you have always thought that the void the lack of children of your own had left could be filled by Rhaenyra’s boys. Secretly, you thought yourself a mother already. What else could you be, when your name had been Jace’s first word? When you were the one holding Luke’s hands as he learned to walk?

Daemon wasn’t saying it openly, but it was clear that was what he meant. Rhaenyra’s children were not yours. As they had not been Harwin’s.

“They are!” Rhaenyra insists, but you are barely hearing it. The thought of it has left you too distraught to care about whatever you are discussing. It feels as if your heart is being carved out of your chest. Were Daemon about to suggest executing you for treason, you doubt you would worry. How could you, when it feels as if he has gutted you already? “We are. She is family. And I will hear no more of this matter.”

Her hand curves possessively around your waist. A claim, for everyone to see. You lean into her, shell shocked by it all.

But Daemon isn’t about to let this go. He pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket, one you recognize too well. You slump in defeat, despite Rhaenyra’s hands urging you to stay upright.

Daemon clears his throat, dramatically.

“And I fear your time with the Princess.” He stresses the last word, making a long pause. You close your eyes, and keep them closed tight. “Has come to an end. I urge you to come back to the Stormlands, where no harm shall befall you. For King Aegon is the most merciful when the misguided sheep comes back to the herd.” Daemon crumples the paper, and throws it to the floor. You wince. “Nothing to say?”

You shake your head.

“Daemon…” Rhaenyra warns, arm around your waist turning into a vice-like grip. You do not understand it, then. It will be a long time before you do.

“Did or did not your father write that?” He whispers, dangerously.

“He did.” You answer, in a voice so small it’s nearly inaudible. Daemon slams his hand on the table, making you jump, and struts out of the room.

You start to sob, quietly. This is it. Rhaenyra is going to dismiss you from her service. It’s true that your father has been urging you to come back home, stating that you would be protected. Begging you, even. Promising all sorts of things, from freedom, to riches, to a husband, to becoming the wife of a Prince. That’s his level of desperation.

It’s unlike him, to worry so much. But you know part of it is not just fatherly affection and genuine concern for your well-being. No. Taking you from Rhaenyra’s side would be the greatest hit the Blacks could take. Lately, you are one of the few things keeping the Queen calm and tethered to reality. You love her, but ever since Luke passed, Rhaenyra has turned almost unrecognizable. She is paranoid and harsh in ways you had never seen before. Crueler. More Targaryen than usual.

And not only that. You hold an unusual amount of information inside your head. Battle plans, supply chains, locations. Everything that has been the key to the Black’s success so far, you know. The information is too valuable to pass on. If you were to turn to the Greens, you would have to share it, be it voluntarily or forcibly. You are not foolish enough to not know it.

“Breathe, darling.” Rhaenyra cradles your face between her hands. “It's alright. I know you would never betray me. Breathe.” She exaggerates her breathing, placing your hand on her chest. It’s only then you realize you have started to hyperventilate. She pulls you into her, hugging you. On the doorstep, Daemon watches.

You don’t know what has gotten into her. Never has she touched you like this. It’s not the first time you kissed. You had both been sixteen and curious, once. But it had not gone further than learning how to kiss another person without it being gross. Because that was what friends were for. Obviously.

She smells like soot and blood. It’s clear she has rushed to your side, not even taking time to change after the battle. You wonder who she killed, this time. What city has she burned, how many of the small folk she and Daemon have doomed?

“I thought… When they said there were revolts on the road….” And her mouth is yours, and you can’t think because you want her so bad you aren't concerned about the consequences. Half the Kingdom is against you, already. You are considered traitors on one side, she is the Queen on the other. What does it matter, really, that it’s called a sin? You will die anyway.

“You are mine. Please. Say it to me, love.” Rhaenyra pleads, kissing your jaw. She looks so gorgeous in armor, you feel like you might die any time you glance her way. And now, you get to have her. It’s intoxicating, having all that power at your fingertips. A goddess come to life, set on claiming you, you and only you.

“I am yours.” You say, kissing her brow. You won’t question it. Not when you are so close to getting your darkest fantasies come true. “I have always been.”

“Mine.” Rhaenyra kisses the hollow of your throat. “You are mine.”

She grabs your hand, pulling you towards a chair. The room you are in is not yours, nor hers. Neither of you care, too desperate for each other. Rhaenyra doesn’t care that her blood soaked armor is staining someone’s chair. You don’t care that your dress is getting thrown around someone's room. Just in your chemise, she pulls you into her lap.

It will have to be burned, after this. There is no way you will be able to salvage the white cotton shift after straddling her lap. The blood sticks the two of you together, but you are too joyous to care.

“I love you.” You say to her, as she bites down on the column of your throat, harshly. Still a little bloodthirsty.

A beat of silence. Have you ruined things before they truly began?

“I love you too.” Rhaenyra says, as she kisses your collarbones. “I love you, and you are mine.”

“All yours.” You answer, breathlessly. Purple flowers blooming across your collarbones, a red angry rose right by your ear. Her bloodstained hands leaving marks upon your arms.

“Yours, yours, yours.” You moan as someone clinging to a lifeline.

“All mine, all mine, all mine.” She answers back.

A bite where your shoulder meets your neck. It’s painful, stinging, your vision blurring into soft flashes of orange and red.

“Just take it for me, please. Please, sweet girl.” Rhaenyra sucks another bruise on your skin. Deep lilac that will bloom into soft green. “I need this. I need them to know you are mine, even if we can’t tell them.”

You pant. There is a certain pleasure to it, being kissed with the barest hint of teeth. But it’s more than just the kisses, what has you panting in arousal. It’s the way she treats your body as her own personal canvas. As if you were a precious artwork Rhaenyra is bringing to life with her kisses.

A maroon chrysanthemum, just over your collarbones. Front and center, the bruise blooms. Her hand, holding your jaw still for the softest torture.

You are uncertain if she is doing it out of fear, trying to make sure you are still there. If she is a bit sadistic, in the way Targaryens are. Or if this is simple, raw reassurance that you are willing to do anything she asks. You save the wondering for later, though. At the moment, you are too busy breaking down under the talented mouth of your Princess.

You don’t want to be separated from her. You know, you know, that something bad is about to happen. Some nights, you wake up, choked up in a bad feeling. You barely recognize her anymore.

Luke’s death had devastated everyone. You thought, after that, never again would you know such pain. You were mistaken. In the months to come, it was as if the children were falling as flies. Everywhere you looked. Jace, Joffrey, Viserys. And through it all, you had been by her side.

Rhaenyra has transformed into something that’s equally beautiful and terrifying. Far more determined and possessive, love harsher and unwilling to let go. Desperation does funny things to women.

As children, your love had been more pure. Untainted but also untested. Your innocence had been lost long ago. But a love that was not pure didn’t mean a love that meant less. it just meant it had grown and changed, as things often did.

Rhaenyra’s heart was not what it used to be when you two were younger. No longer filled with dreams of cake and laughter. But you weren’t the same girl, either.

Before, you had felt the urge to mark her and settled for being marked instead. You had told yourself you were not allowed to have her, that she was Laenor’s, Harwin’s, Daemon’s. And each and each time, you pulled back, curling into yourself. No more. It was not enough, to be hers. No. It was not enough to be owned. You had so little now, you wanted everyone to know she was yours as you were hers.

“Rhaenyra.” You ask her, as she pushes you down to your knees, tossing and turning in the sheets. “Rhaenyra.” As your teeth bruise her thighs, as you bring her over the edge over and over again.

“Darling. Love. Come here.” And you want to sob because it’s not enough. You want her to be yours. You want her to be yours, so you can drag her and the kids away from this madness, far away to a land where the war won’t touch you. Where there is no Iron Throne to destroy the family you have built little by little.

She will never go. Not even after all the boys die. Not even after Daemon is dead, in an incident that’s half an attempt to escape her, half a suicide mission. You have no other choice but to remain by her side, too far in to do otherwise.

Leaving is giving up. Leaving is losing. Leaving is renouncing the Iron Throne, her birthright. She will never go. Rhaenyra would rather tear the realm apart than save herself, and it terrifies you.

What terrifies you more is the fact that despite all the grief, all the pain, you do not regret loving her. You just regret not loving her in the way she deserves, in the way she has been asking for. The clothes, the hands, the bruises. Only now do you realize Rhaenyra has been trying to mark you, claim you. And it’s like you two are finally speaking the same language.

“Promise me.” You whisper against her hair, as you lay in bed together. “Promise you will never take this off.” And you are slipping her a silly thing, a medal of the Mother you always carry with you for protection. It’s not exactly your house’s jewelry, or your cloak, as a man would give to a wife.

Rhaenyra laughs. She finds your devotion to the Faith of the Seven silly. But she gets it, anyway. She puts the medal on, close to her heart.

You loved her differently now. No longer your silver Princess, your childhood companion. In your chest, curling around your heart, a dark possessive thread rests, tying you to her. Finally, you meet her in the middle.

Rhaenyra has always loved you like certain things are meant to be loved. In secrecy. In the dark. Not of her own will, but yours. Rhaenyra didn’t care what others thought. She had been so bold before, trying to get you to step in the light for once. You had not realized it at the time, you had not been ready. You had worried too much.

And now, with no time to worry left, with death threatening your doorstep, you realize exactly what you were missing out on. Every time she walks away, chain glistening between her breasts, you get a secret thrill. She is yours. You know it. It’s your mark Rhaenyra wears close to her heart.