AN: Trying something new here so please be kind ❤️ Might expand on this depending on whether or not you guys would be interested.
Pairings: Dark!Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader
Warnings: Language, Stalking, Non Consensual Sex, Somnophilia, Violence, Obsessive Behavior and just general creepiness.
Summary: Someone’s been in your apartment, you know this because when you come home from work, dinners waiting for you.
Words: 881
Masterlist Part 2
You’re still shivering and dripping water as you walk up the three flights of stairs to your shitty New York City apartment. You had just gotten back from a five-hour shift on top of your full load of college courses. The only thing you wanted to do was collapse into bed and not wake up for at least a week, but you still had to finish your essay on the Cold War.
You’re yawning as you shove the key into the keyhole in the door, and step inside, but the sight on your kitchen countertop has you alert at once. A piping hot plate of food sits at the ready. You shuffle closer to take in the food in front of you.
Rosemary and lemon chicken breast, grilled asparagus and crispy potatoes, and a bottle of red wine with a glass already poured for you. The food is hot, you can see the steam coming off the plate as if someone had cooked it minutes ago.
You stop, your heart beating wildly as you work over what this means. You didn’t see anyone coming down the stairs as you went up…was someone in your apartment now?
Your eyes flick around your studio apartment, looking for any potential hiding spots, the closet opposite your bed was open, the space too small for anyone to hide in any way. Your eyes fall to the floor, peering into the darkness under your bed, your hand reaching into your coat pocket to get a grip on your keys. Your hands are sweating and you fumble to get the keys into the spaces between your fingers the way you were taught.
You crouch down slowly as I’d you were approaching a wild animal which you very well could be and pull your phone out in your free hand, the light of the screen illuminating the dark space. Nothing but plastic storage containers with your winter clothing.
You sigh in relief but the tension in your body doesn't leave, someone was in your apartment recently too. You swallow hard, considering your options, you suppose you could call the police but what good would that do? You had no evidence other than the food on your kitchen counter, if anything they would think you were some stupid college kids trying to pull a prank.
You turn and study the door to your apartment, there was no physical indication that anyone had forced their way into your home. Whoever it was must have their key, a chill goes up your spine at the thought.
You end up dragging the small bookcase across the length of your apartment to barricade the front door. Having something physical in between you and any possible intruder made you breathe a little easier.
Turning back to your supposed dinner you take a closer look, picking up the knife and fork already set out and cutting into the chicken breast. The skin was brown and crispy, the inside juicy and cooked perfectly. Your mouth waters at the sight.
You take a closer look at the bottle of wine, the label was in French but you recognized the name from a few upscale restaurants. Expensive, four figures expensive and only sold by the bottle.
Grimacing at the sight before you and all it indicates you carry the plate over and scrape the food into the trash without a second thought. You turn and take the bottle of wine and the glass too, as you go to pour it down the drain the sight of dirty dishes in the sink stops you.
A small frying pan, already soaking, a few miscellaneous bowls and utensils wet and soapy, almost as if someone was in the middle of doing dishes before they were interrupted.
You don't notice your shaking until you hear the smash of the plate you were holding shatter against the hardwood floors. It takes another moment to realize your beading slightly, the red liquid oozing out of your finger fascinates you before it alarms you.
Stepping over the broken ceramic you fetch a tissue to tamper the blood dripping down the side of your thumb. Your body’s slower, less fluid as you sweep up the shattered remains of the plate, your eyes unable to leave the view of the front door.
You shower with the bathroom door ajar and the curtain open, the busted shower heads getting water all over the floor but you are too paranoid to care. You’ll clean it up later. You’re skin itchy as you scrub yourself with a loofah and rub lotion into your skin.
You’re no longer shaking as you clumsily prepare for bed, pulling an oversized t-shirt over your head and slipping on a cotton thong. You curl up on your side, your eyes trained on the door 20 feet away. You slip in and out of sleep, snapping awake before exhaustion pulls you back under.
Just two miles north of you, Natasha watches you through her computer screen, her face impassive as she watches you sleep. Annoyance flares up in her when she remembers you didn’t eat the dinner she made for you or anything else for that matter. She sighed, you barely took care of yourself but it was okay, that’s why she was there.
Summary: you thought finally getting the chance to ask Wanda for help would save you from Natasha, but you greatly underestimated how far your girlfriend was willing to go to keep you to herself.
4.1k words
Warnings: implied suicide attempt, kind of kidnapping??, manipulation, gaslighting, isolation, domestic abuse, belt beating, somnophilia, non-con/dub-con, degrading, daddy kink, strap on use, a whole lot of emotions let me know if I missed anything
[ masterlist ]
Buy me a coffee? ☕️
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Wanda was stirring the foam in her coffee with an unreadable expression as you sat across from her and glanced nervously between your long time friend and your own untouched drink when she cleared her throat and looked at you expectantly. You fidgeted in your seat under her firm gaze that was entirely alien to you. You hadn’t seen her in a while, 4 months to be exact, but the way she looked at you had changed drastically since you last hung out and even then you weren’t on the best terms.
“How’ve you been?” You asked with an uncomfortable smile, still struggling to meet her sharp gaze. You’d never struggled to look at her before.
“Really? You text me for the first time in four months asking to meet up and that’s all you have to say? You ignored all my texts and calls after you sent that message, quit your job and moved out of your place all out of nowhere and now you want to catch up? What the fuck happened, y/n?” Wanda demanded as she glared at you expectantly. You breathed out shakily and tried not to let yourself get too anxious from your friend’s outburst. She had every right to be mad at you, at least from what you could tell, but seeing the woman who was once your closest friend be so hostile towards you made the whole ordeal so much harder.
“I’m sorry, it’s hard to explain and I know you’re mad-”
“Fucking right I’m mad.” She spat. You shrunk in your seat and began playing with the loose threads on your sleeves. You honestly had no clue how to even begin explaining your situation to Wanda. Perhaps you could start by rolling your sleeves back to reveal the badly stitched cuts parallel on each wrist. You suspected that they had become infected.
“It’s just um…it’s been a crazy few months.” You started. Wanda raised a brow expectantly. “Nat, she-”
“Nat? You’ve been with her all this time? Jesus, y/n, I told you pursuing her was going to end badly but I never guessed that you would go so far as to abandon your whole life for her.” You could feel your heart rate start to accelerate and an all too familiar panic began to kick in.
“I didn’t plan that. Things have gotten so out of hand and now she-”
“What? She broke your heart and now you’ve come running back?” God, she had no idea how right she was.
“It’s not like that.” You tried but Wanda wasn’t listening. She was angry and it was stopping her from assessing the situation the way she usually would. Wanda used to be able to read you better than anyone. When you got anxious at parties but didn’t want to make a fuss, she made some excuse for you both to leave after just one glance your way. If someone made you uncomfortable at a bar she was ready to swoop in as the role of your girlfriend. But she was hurt at what she thought was confirmation that you had abandoned her.
You were itching to pull back your sleeves to reveal the deep scarlet stripe on both your wrists, to lift them further to expose the murky brown bruises along your forearm, maybe even to lift your shirt and present the darkening blue blemishes along your ribs. You needed something that would get her to understand because you weren’t sure you were going to get another attempt.
But you were out of time.
“You can figure out this shit on your own this time or find someone else to help you. I’m done.” Wanda said with venom deeply interlaced in her voice. As she stood up she pushed the small table forwards and straight into your already damaged rib cage. You winced but played it off enough for Wanda not to notice, or perhaps she did and simply didn’t care, and stood up after her.
“Please, Wanda. I don’t know what else to do.” You pleaded desperately as you watched your best friend leave the cafe without looking back. You thought of chasing after her; of showing her your injuries right there in the middle of the street. But she was scaring you. You couldn’t help but play that scenario out in your head without it ending with her spinning round to slap you before you could do anything. You never thought Wanda would hit you, though you never thought Nat would either and you were proved significantly wrong in that presumption.
You collapsed back down in your seat and stared blankly at the table for several minutes. The cops were out of the question. Between the amount of connections Natasha had and the growing wealth in all of her accounts, going to the police would only make things worse. Hell, they would probably escort you back to your girlfriend themselves. You had stopped entertaining the idea of running away in the first month with Natasha. She would find you.
Your eyes flickered up to the small car park just outside of the car park and immediately found Natasha’s car with the redhead sitting in the passenger seat, as though waiting to pick you up from a day out with your friends. She would always find you.
Standing up shakily, you ignored the untouched drinks on the table and made your way towards the door and headed towards the car, trying to enjoy and memorise how the glow of the sun felt upon your face. She watched you from her car, knowing she didn’t have to make a scene by dragging you back to the car herself.
You weren’t an idiot. You knew how Nat treated you was bad and that it might just keep getting worse. You knew you deserved better but there was no better option. Asking for help was a dead end and yet it still brought you right back to Natasha, as though she was going to be around every corner for the rest of your life and you didn’t want to spend it running. You didn’t want to spend it alone. Natasha was bad for you, but she might just have been all you had left. So, as you started walking towards her car, you decided that being with her was better than being on your own.
She didn’t say anything as you climbed into her pickup. She only watched as you tried not to strain your ribs too much from the awkward angle of getting into the seat and clipped your seat belt in. She scoffed at seeing how hard it was for you not to meet her gaze but continued the silence as she pulled out of the parking lot, only then opening her mouth to begin to rub salt into the wounds she derived a great deal of joy in inflicting.
“Did your little coffee date not go so well?” She pried. She had watched your entire interaction with Wanda. She saw the awkward glances, the breaking point in the tension and how you cowered under the brunette’s anger. She also saw the moment it clicked in your mind that Natasha was your only future.
“I’m sorry.” You muttered as you dropped your gaze to your lap. Any conversation you had with Natasha was a mine field with bombs concealed every two steps. Anything could (and would) set her off as she sought out any excuse to discipline you accordingly. One time she asked if you wanted to go out on a walk with her after several months locked up in the apartment. You were quick to agree with a wide eyed, hopeful look at the thought of getting a taste of freedom. Too quick. She scolded you for being ungrateful for the home she provided for you and told you you didn’t appreciate the space you had, so she locked you in the closet for two days.
“I suppose you’ve learnt your lesson yourself this time though, hmm? Won’t be meeting up with her again any time soon?” You shook your head slowly, understanding that she had seen everything. The only reason you had left the apartment and texted Wanda that day was because Natasha forgot to lock up when she went shopping. You realised now that that was entirely deliberate. Natasha had torn down any sense of free will you ever had.
“She hates me.” You admitted. You knew Natasha would forever use this as ammo against you but you couldn’t bring yourself to refrain from saying it. After all, Natasha was the only one you could turn to with your woes. “She didn’t even hear me out, like she had been waiting for this to happen. Maybe she never even cared.” You closed your eyes as a lone tear rolled steadily down your cheek, marking a path for more to follow later. You couldn’t get the image of Wanda’s fury out of your mind. She really hates me.
“Oh, detka,” Natasha cooed with sickeningly faux sympathy “it’s not that she never cared about you. She did, it's just that she’s seen sense now. She doesn’t want to help you or spare you the time of day because she knows it’s a waste of her time. You are a waste of her time and everyone else's and it’s sad it’s taken her so long to realise that. I wonder why she ever cared about you in the first place.” You sighed deeply, trembling in her passenger seat as you soaked up her words.
You thought back to what Wanda said in the cafe about a message. It was something that had clearly cut deep and a hurt she thought you had heartlessly inflicted. Natasha had taken your phone once she got you to move in with her. She had texted a lot of people what you could only assume to be comments bad enough to keep them away from you. On the rare occasions Natasha let you have your phone, she watched as you went through your socials to find all prior messages had been deleted and you had been blocked by a handful of people you hoped would stick by your side forever. You would never know exactly what sort of person Wanda and all the others would remember you by. You wondered if any of them would come to your funeral when Natasha finally snapped.
“Do I deserve this?” You asked, voice small. You didn’t just mean Wanda, you meant everything that Natasha had done too and the life she was about to seal you in.
“Yes.” Natasha answered simply with a fond smile as she pulled into her parking space. She cupped your cheek softly and swiped the tear away with a touch more gentle than you had experienced from her in four months. She didn’t like seeing you cry when it wasn’t from her strikes.
Much to your own surprise, you were comforted by the familiar four walls of the apartment, and even by the sound of the door lock clicking behind Natasha as she watched you unsteadily make your way to the sofa and sit hesitantly on the firm cushion. You looked to her for guidance and reassurance, wanting to do everything you could to stay on her good side now that you were aware of just how alone you were. You couldn’t let her abandon you too.
She started towards you steadily, considerate of her every move and you were entirely too aware of how loud each thud of her boots against the floorboards were. It striked you that she was looking at you the same way she did the menu when she took you on your first date, eyes scanning you as she waited for the best option of what to do with you to jump out at her. It didn’t take long.
She extended her hand out towards you and gave you time to process what she was doing before cupping your cheek and looking down at you with a warm smile that made your heart swell. “We should order take out - your choice.” She declared. “Then while we wait for it to arrive I’ll put that blanket you like in the dryer to warm it up while you pick a film.” She continued with you hanging on the edge of every word. You scooched to the edge of the sofa to be closer to her as you looked up at her as though she was your salvation. “Then we can have a nice bath and use all those bath bombs we keep forgetting about.” She looked deep in thought as she uttered those words, like she had everything clearly envisioned in her head and had for some time. “And then we’ll cuddle in bed for a while and leave this day behind us.” She smiled and you nodded frantically, eager to make the long awaited dream a reality.
“But you don’t deserve any of that, do you, detka?” A frown had barely befallen your face before the back of Natasha’s hand collided with your cheek so hard that you collapsed onto the floor in a heap. You peered up at Natasha with bewildered, frightened eyes that never failed to fill the redhead with a sense of twisted pride.
“You were a bad girl,” she explained slowly as she started to unbuckle her belt and pull it free from its loops. “And now you have to face the consequences of what you’ve done.” Natasha said matter of factly. “Now get on your knees.” You knew better than to keep her waiting so you shakily got up onto your already aching knees and looked up at Natasha in pained betrayal, momentarily wondering if that was how Wanda felt. Your heart screamed at the thought until a sharp smack from the buckle end of Natasha’s belt hit the side of your face and drove you back to the ground with a sob.
She had hit you with her belt numerous times before but never with the buckle and never on the face. You supposed it no longer mattered where she left the traces of her discipline.
“It’s okay, meelaya. It’ll be over soon.” Natasha cooed as she helped you back onto your knees with one hand while the other continued to hold the folded belt.
You whimpered as she stood back and closed your eyes in the best form of preparation you were allowed. The second strike landed on the edge of your eyebrow and cut into your skin with a dark scarlet coming to the surface before you even hit the ground. You sniffled when she ever so gently guided you back to your position and even planted a soft kiss to your forehead as a brief reward. “Take it like a good girl, that’s it.”
The next strike cut your lip. The one after that got your cheek. After that you weren’t quite sure where they were landing because your entire face had flared up in a burn so fierce you were practically numb. All you knew was the direction you were sent falling into.
“I know it hurts, but it’s what’s best for you.” Natasha kept up her sweet voice remarkably well for someone who had very little practice in it. The only difference was that her breathing had become heavier underneath it all. “You have to learn that actions like these hurt me, y/n. You ran away from me. You fucking ran away. You don’t appreciate anything I do for you so I have to balance out the pain you put me through. This is your fault.” She declared, driving her point home with another strike as though she was etching the words into your head. “Now just take one more, you owe me that.” She pleaded as she cupped your swollen face.
It took you a minute to get back onto your knees. The room was swaying and your head throbbed loudly so Natasha was patient. You barely sat back up and she struck you for the final time. It must have been a particularly hard one because you hit your head hard on the landing. Hard enough that there was an obnoxious ringing in your ears for a while.
When you came to, Natasha was crouching in front of you with an inquisitive look. “The next time you leave this apartment, whether it be in one year or twenty, will be in a bodybag.” She said, voice void of any identifiable emotion.
You had been laying on that unsympathetic floor alone for an hour before your phone chimed. Natasha was nowhere to be found so you pulled it out to see a text from Wanda. You didn’t hesitate to open it, but fuck you wished you did.
Well done. You've officially pushed away everyone that's ever given a fuck about you.
You can no longer reply to this contact
*
The exhaustion of the day caught up to you as soon as your throbbing head hit the pillows. You had been lucky enough to grab a couple hours of rest before Natasha came home with one sole thing on her mind. She admired your sleeping form for several minutes as she stood in the bedroom doorway with a content smile.
You were out cold, that much she could tell. The only sign of life at all was the steady rise and fall of the duvet over your form. You looked so vulnerable and fragile sleeping so soundly in her bed and although Natasha could make out smeres of dried blood on the pillow from where your cuts had reopened, she wanted nothing more than to take advantage of your state and ruin your needed peace.
You didn’t wake when she climbed into bed next to you and ran her hand from your hip to the middle of your stomach where she was able to gently guide you onto your back. You grumbled in your sleep and rearranged yourself to hug the pillow you had stained with a soft sigh before returning to whatever dream was playing in your head. Natasha smiled and uttered a hushed praise at your compliance.
She pulled the restricting covers back and pushed your sore legs apart before attentively sitting behind you to admire how the soft moonlight illuminated your pale skin. Natasha pulled your shirt up enough to expose your shoulder blades then traced her finger gradually down the middle of your back and to the hem of your underwear which she pulled down without another thought. Emerald eyes flickered back up to search your face for any signs of consciousness but you remained oblivious to the wandered hands that massaged the back of your thighs only to dip towards where Natasha desired to feel. She smirked at the quiet whine she drew from your sleeping form and decided to drag out the torture.
It was the retracing of fading bruises scattered across your ass half an hour later that gradually brought you from your slumber. The redhead watched for your reaction as she cupped your ass too firmly and made you squirm away up the bed. That only made her grip tighten and a more panicked whine left your lips as you turned around and was struck with the image of Natasha sitting fully naked behind you with a feral glint in her eyes that was illuminated by the eerie glow of the moon.
“Nat?” You questioned, the timid edge to your voice making the redhead groan lowly and force your head back into the pillow as she lifted your ass up with a still painful grip. Still in a state of confusion and panic, you made a move to get up but a strong hand pushing hard against your shoulder blades prevented you from getting too far in your attempt. Natasha leant down over your raised ass and pushed the hair away from your face and over your shoulder gently before kissing your hickey littered neck.
In pressing herself so firmly against your twisted body, you felt a familiar shape push up against your thighs and drag over where you found yourself craving. You frowned at realising how worked up you had gotten in your sleep, never recalling having experienced anything like that before. “You can struggle all you want, meelaya, I love it when you do. But you should know it’s futile.” She husked and basked in the way you shivered in defeat.
With a sinister chuckle, Natasha leaned back onto her knees and tutted when you tried to close your legs from the toy attached to her harness. “Don’t deny me, detka.” She warned. “I need you to prove that you still belong to me, okay? I need you to let me fuck this wet cunt and remind you who owns it.” The Russian explained as she delivered a firm slap to your thighs to make you open yourself back up to her. She hummed at the sight of your pussy still being as wet as when she teased it while you slept.
Though Natasha had chosen a strap that was bigger than her usual favourite, she met little resistance when pushing the thick toy into your awaiting cunt. You whined into your pillow and gripped onto it so hard your knuckles turned white as you tried to feel past the pain of the stretch. You endeavoured to find the pleasure that was lurking beneath the surface of each of Natasha’s rushes forward that felt as though they left scorch marks in their wake. Unfortunately, Natasha wasn’t ready to reward you with that pleasure yet and wanted to hear your cries of discomfort. “You look so pathetic like this, dorogaya.” Natasha chuckled. “So tight around my cock.” she punctuated the last word with a particularly forceful thrust that felt as though she was trying to force herself through you. She tangled her hand in your hair and gripped your waist with the other to find better grounds to fuck you with.
Your helpless sobs soon turned into fulfilled moans as the last of the pain morphed into something far more pleasant that you were more than willing to chase. “So fucking needy.” Natasha chuckled as she snapped her hips forwards to draw out a series of breathy moans from your willing lips. “You need this. You need me to remind you of your place and who you belong to. And you need to be fucked like the worthless little whore you are.”
“Yes daddy, I’m yours!” You cried out in pure desperation, not caring about proving Natasha’s point or fueling her ego. She smirked all the same and smacked your ass for good measure, thrusting her hips into you so hard that your thighs slapped together as you were filled to the brim with her cock over and over again.
You mewled and stretched your arms out to grip onto the edge of the mattress and push yourself back more onto Natasha’s piece, moaning in delight when her next thrusts hit you considerably harder. “So good.” You managed to mumble in your blissed state as you felt your impending orgasm grow closer. Natasha spied your rise in desperation and reached around you to pinch at your neglected clit, making you lurch forward in surprise of the piecing sensation.
“I know you want to cum, detka. Be a good slut and soak my cock for me.” She ordered breathlessly, letting her own arousal peak through her tone as she watched the way your cunt swallowed her cock and how it always tried to suck her back in. You needed no further instructions as the last of your body strength was consumed by your orgasm that had your entire body positively buzzing. You quivered and shook before collapsing against the bed while Natasha held your hips up for her continued thrusting.
After a beat, you whined and tried to push away from her again. You were exhausted for the second time that day and too overwhelmed to handle anything more. You weren’t sure you even had it in you to give Natasha more of what she wanted, though the redhead would always find a way when she knew exactly what buttons to press.
“Daddy…too much!” You whined as she slowed down to ensure you experienced the full effects of the toy’s size inside your sore cunt.
“Shut your fucking mouth. I say when you’re done. I’m going to continue to ruin this sweet pussy until I’ve had enough. I really don’t care if you’re not okay with that because you don’t get a say. You’re my property. You chose this.”
TW// Kidnapping, stalking, slightly graphic, mentions of noncon and dubcon (No smut but a lot of spice and also some nudity and events leading up to and following smut), gaslighting, punishment (let me know if I missed anything)
____
You smiled at the locksmith gratefully. You hadn't slept for almost three nights in fear of the stranger coming in again. She tightened the last screw and turned to you.
"Can I use your bathroom?"
"Sure, first door on the left."
...
It had all started about 2 months ago with a letter. First of all, snail mail, no one used that anymore, and a letter confessing undying love and devotion to you...you'd assumed it was a joke, brushing it off and moving on. Throughout the rest of the week though, you began to find pictures of yourself left about. Pictures you hadn't even known were being taken.
You called the police of course, but they brushed it off, saying it was a harmless prank. You wanted to believe them, you really did, but as the letters got more frequent and the writer more possessive, you couldn't help but be afraid.
One night, a month after the first letter, you were startled awake around 3 am. The door to your apartment was wide open. You'd called the police but after a quick scan of your apartment and building, they said you must have just forgotten to close it. Then, three days ago, you'd come home to find your window wide open, the lock snapped.
The locksmith came out of the bathroom with a smile,
"Thanks. That should be perfectly secure for you now." You returned her smile,
"Of course. Thank you so much for doing this. I really appreciate it."
"No problem," the redheaded woman walked out of your apartment, shooting you one last dazzling smile before closing the door.
You collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Three days of not sleeping plus the added stress of having a stalker had been weighing on you more than you knew.
____
You opened your eyes slowly, leaning into the warmth of the hand on your face. You pulled away quickly once you realized what was happening, your eyes shooting open. You tried to bat the hand away, get the intruder off you, but your hands were chained to the headboard, the cuffs biting into your wrist.
"What are you-" The hand was suddenly clamped over your mouth.
"Quiet, Love. Just give me a minute." The voice sounded familiar and as the face moved closer to yours, you recognized it.
"Y- you're the locksmith." She raised an eyebrow at,
"I am many things, but that's not for you to worry about." She took a rag and moved it up to your face all too gently. You tried to suck in air, struggle against her grip, anything to get away from the suffocating rag and its overwhelming scent.
When she pulled it away, your eyelids felt heavy. Your body seemed to be made of lead. You couldn't pry yourself off the bed, even if you'd wanted to.
"Am I dying?" You whispered. The woman turned to look at you, her expression surprisingly soft. You felt wet tears trail down the side of your face,
"I don't want to die," you managed to croak before your vision went black. The last thing you heard as your world faded away was her,
"Don't worry, I won't let you."
____
When you opened your eyes, you were somewhere you didn't recognize. The walls were a comforting grey, a painting by your favorite artist hung on the wall, as well as a tapestry of your favorite constellation over the large bed. You stood up to try to explore the room but only got so far before a sharp bite in your ankle stopped you. A cuff was wrapped around you, a chain welded to the cuff. You followed it with your eyes, finding the end attached to a ring in the floor.
You walked the just over half-circle of room you had to walk, exploring as much as you could, hoping to find a way out. You were inspecting the windows when the door opened.
"Isn't the view great?" You jumped and turned to face the redheaded intruder from the night before. Suddenly you were very aware of how underdressed you were in only an oversized shirt. You were fairly certain you hadn't been wearing that the night before. You looked between the windows and your captor frantically.
"Oh, don't bother with those. They're a mirror on the outside and they don't open. Plus if you tried to leave, I'd have to punish you and it's your first day here. I'd like to make a good impression."
"You call kidnapping me and chaining me to a bed a good impression." She shrugged,
"You'll come to understand in time. I had to get you away from the world, the bad people, you're mine, Y/n. It's my job to keep you safe."
"Safe? From who, kidnappers? stalkers?" You spat back. The woman raised an eyebrow at you,
"You have to the count of ten to take that back." She glared at you and you glared right back. Her face was hard when she reached 5. It terrified you. Before you could take another breath she had dragged you into the bathroom. She held your head over the sink. The ankle cuff bit into your legs, you were almost sure it was drawing blood. With each number, she brought your face closer to the water. When she reached 8, you crumbled.
"Okay, okay. You win. I'm sorry. I take it back." She let go of the back of your neck and walked out of the bathroom. You followed her silently, trying to hide your terror at what she had almost done.
You stared at the space in front of your feet, hoping you wouldn't anger her again. You weren't sure where the innate urge to please her came from but there it was and it was almost... intoxicating. She tucked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at her.
"Are you going to behave now?" You started to nod,
"Use your words, doll."
"Y-" you choked on the word, then took a breath, "yes." A smile spread slowly across her face.
"Good girl." She spent the next hour or so going over 'the rules'. There were a lot and you weren't willing to find out what happened if you broke them. You tried your best to remember them all, but you were sure you wouldn't. You hoped that if you just did what she told you, you'd fair just fine.
You did just that. For a week you obeyed every order she gave you, hoping that maybe you could build her trust and she would unchain you. You sat on the edge of the bed, twiddling your thumbs. No one had warned you how boring being kidnapped could be. You were almost relieved when Natasha opened your door.
"Hey doll, how was your day?" You shrugged,
"Fine. Thanks for asking." She sat on the bed next to you.
"Something's wrong." You whipped your head towards her,
"D-did I-?" She cut you off,
"It's been a week. You were supposed to be acclimated by now." You saw the anger beginning to rise in her cheeks.
"No, no. I um...I like it here." She looked at you with those piercing green eyes, "Or at least, I want to like it here. I'm trying." She nodded, but her eyes remained narrowed. She shook her head slightly, then stood and walked out without another word. You sighed and fell back on the bed. A pang of guilt washed over you. For some reason disappointing her felt...wrong. You stood up and did something you'd never dared to do.
"Natasha?" you asked tentatively. You didn't hear footsteps approach but the door opened. She came in and shut the door, then leaned back against it.
"Yes?"
"I...uh...I told you how my day was...would you, I mean, how was yours?" For a single terrible moment she stared at you, face blank, then slowly, she began to laugh. It was like music to your ears, even though you couldn't discern the tone or the reason.
"You're asking about my day?" You bit your lip,
"I, uh, I guess I am?" Her laughter died down and her face softened,
"My day was quite boring." You nodded, hoping to urge her on. You wanted her to relax, to think you cared about her, maybe if she trusted you, let her guard down, you could run.
"...simple really. The captain's a bit old-fashioned. Sometimes I wonder if he still thinks Germany is the enemy." She chuckled once and you smiled at her.
"I was uh...can you switch the chain to my other ankle...I- this one hurts." She considered this for a moment then bent down. She examined your ankle and nodded. Nat left the room and returned with a key. She unlocked the cuff. Your heart raced. You kicked up with your foot, making contact with her warm flesh and you ran through the slightly ajar bedroom door. You glanced around, looking for a door out. There was a kitchen island with a bowl of fruit, behind it a line of perfect white cabinets. You looked as swiftly as you could, skipping over the stainless steel fridge, the grey couch, and the large TV. Then you saw it. A screen door. You ran to it and pulled on the handle. You heard Natasha moving behind you and stopped fiddling with the lock, and instead, run straight through the screen. The grass was soft underneath your fast feet. YOu glanced behind you and saw Natasha. You ran as fast as your feet would carry you but came to a stop abruptly. A tall brick wall rose in front of you. The top was tall enough that you could just barely graise it if you jumped and above that was a wire fence topped with barbed wire like a prison yard. Fear overwhelmed you, and you turned. Your eyes darted back and forth like a cornered animal. You met Natasha's eyes. She looked smug, relaxed. Her back was against the now open door, her stance casual but superior. You back up until your back hit the wall. The warm brick did nothing to help you. Tears filled your eyes as she approached you.
"Please," you said through your tears, "no, please, please," you got louder as she reached you until you were yelling, begging for her not to take you back in, not to punish you. "Please, please, I want to go home, please." She reached towards your face and gently wiped away your tears.
"You are home."
She brushed hair away from your face gently, her touch soft as she pet your head. And then her fingers seized. She gripped a chunk of your hair, making you gasp, and pulled you with her, her smirk replaced with an inhuman expression, hard and unreadable. She dragged you forward, back through the house and into the small room. She threw you back onto the bed and straddled your waist. You struggled but it was impossible to move under her strong frame.
"Nat, please-"
"Quiet," she ordered. Her clipped tone had your mouth snapping short, seeming of its own volition. Your struggling ceased. The fear of your coming punishment weighed down on you and made you feel as if each of your limbs weighed a million pounds. You closed you eyes as Natasha began to strip you.
"Look at me." You kept your eyes sealed shut. "I said," she growled, "Look at me."
----
When Natasha finally left, your body hurt in every way possible. You couldn't do anything but lay on the bed in the pool of sex and sweat. The exhaustion seemed to have seeped into you bones and you wanted nothing more than to close your eyes, but the door opened again. You knew it was Natasha even though didn't have the enegery to lift your head. It was always Natasha. Her skilled fingers quickly undid the ropes around you ankles and then moved to your wrists. She look down at you and a soft smile spread across her face. She stroked your face lightly and a whimper escaped your throat. Her touches had been so rough just moments before that the softness of her now made you ache. When she finished with your ties, she sat on the edge of the bed.
"Dekta," she said, her voice quiet, "you gotta get up, sweetheart." You wanted to explain to her that you were too tired, too heavy to move, but all that came out was a small croak, "can't". Strong arms wrapped around you, lifting your naked body out of the bed and soon you were huddled against Natasha's chest. You inhaled her aroma of whiskey and nighttime and let it sweep you into a sense of calm and security.
Warm water, Natasha, soap, hands in your hair, Natasha, clean clothes, waiting, Natasha, Natasha, Natasha; it was all a blur of events but it made you feel better and when you woke up wrapped in the arms of your kidnapper, you curled into her chest without thinking.
You wanted to hate her. Logically, you should hate her. She tricked you, stole you from your home, your friends, your family, and locked you in a room, chained you to the floor, and when you tried to escape, well her punishment was less than ideal, but something about her bright green eyes, her auburn hair, her soft touches and even her rough ones, the way she had cared for you after your punishment and every day since, she drew you in like a mouse to a trap...
dark!nat who stalks you for weeks so she can pick the best place to “meet” you. dark!nat who knows all your likes and dislikes before you even know her name and isn’t just so crazy that you have so much in common. dark!nat who steals the notes from your therapist office so she knows exactly what you’re insecure about and then can manipulate you to be completely dependent on her. dark!nat who loves you so much and does all of it so “everything can be perfect for you” 🥰🥰🥰
Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, spicy🌶 (if you squint)
Summary: You are kidnapped by Mafia Leader/Mob boss Natasha Romanoff.
Inspo: 365 Days movie
You stepped out of your room once again but this time, you made it all the way through the living room uninterrupted. You opened the front door you had been trying to reach for so long as quietly as you could. The night air was cold and fresh. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure someone would hear it. You took each and every step carefully. Slowly, voices reached your ears. You peaked around a corner and what you saw stole your breath. Men stood around what looked like a pile of blankets. Natasha stood with her back to you, red hair shining in the moonlight. She shifted slightly and you saw it. The pile of blankets had a face.
You gasped and Natasha whirled around. That thing you saw before your world went black were her piercing green eyes.
You awoke in the same bed as before. You blinked slowly and turned towards the sound of steady breathing just off the bed. Natasha sat on a chair near one of the large windows.
“How are you,” you narrowed your eyes at her, but she continued, oblivious, “you shouldn’t have seen it.”
“Him.”
“What?”
“I said, him. He was a person. A dead person. Did you…?”
“He deserved it. He hurt children.”
“That’s not what I asked.” You were determined to get an actual answer from her.
“He killed himself with his actions.” You rolled your eyes and moved the blankets off you. You were a night gown that you definitely didn’t change yourself into. You raised an eyebrow at your capture.
“The maid changed you, not me.”
“You have people for everything.” She smirked and your heart did a flip,
“One of the advantages of being the boss.” You rolled your eyes once again,
“How about you tell your butler to bring me my phone and laptop.” She shook her head,
“Don’t roll your eyes at me. You’ll get them when the time is right.” You rolled your eyes again.
Natasha pushed you back onto the bed, her hands dug into your shoulders with incredible force,
“ I said,” she growled through gritted teeth, “Don’t roll your eyes at me.” You nodded and she let you up, brushing her hair out of her face again.
“Now, Bruce will help you if you need anything. We leave in two hours.” Anxiety lept in your chest,
“Going where? What are you talking about?”
“Shopping. Now get ready.” You shook your head, careful not to roll your eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere except back to the states.” Natasha’s face was once again hard,
“That wasn’t an offer. It was an order. Listen-” You cut her off,
“No, I’m not a sack of potatoes you can just throw around wherever you want!” She reached for you and you smacked her hand away,
“I will never love you.” She caught your hand. “If you hit me again-”
“What, you’ll kill me?” You shot back.
She shook her head with a smile, “I see you’ve regained your strength. With a temperament like that, I'm surprised you’re not italian.” You started to turn away from her,
“Bruce brought your things. You took a lot of shoes for five days.”
The door clicked shut behind her.
As promised, once you were dressed, the man who took you to your room the night before came into the room.
“It’s time to go, miss.” You moved away from him,
“I said I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“I will inform Miss Romanoff, but she won't be happy.” He turned to leave,
“Wait!” You called after him before you could stop yourself. He turned,
“Yes?”
You sighed, cursing yourself internally for wanting to please Natasha, “I’ll go with you.”
tw// implied little space, implied mental manipulation, implied spice
Fog filled your brain and like water, your thoughts seemed to pour out of your head, replaced by a familiar voice. You couldn’t understand them, but the words wrapped around you like a warm blanket and nothing else mattered as you allowed sleep to pull you in.
You woke up in a room you didn’t recognize, furrowing your brows, you sat up.
“Hello?” You called and then flinched back as if you expected to be struck. You shook your head, you were alone. It’s not like anyone had hit you before either…well not that you remembered. Before you could try and remember anything else, the door opened and a redheaded woman with a warm smile walked in. She stayed away from your bed, but knelt down to your level as if she was trying to will you to say something. It seemed to work because a word, no, a name came to your mind.
“Natty?” She cocked her head at you like a curious puppy, a hesitant smile on her lips.
“Do you know who I am?” You did, you didn’t know how or why, but you knew her.
“You’re Natasha but I call you Natty.” She nodded,
“Very good. Do you know who you are?” Again the answer seemed to find itself in the haziness of your mind, it was less clear though,
“I belong to you and…” another face flashed across your thoughts, “Wanda.” This seemed to be what Natasha was looking for because her smile turned from hesitant to proud. She reached forward pulling you into her arms. She was saying something but it was in a language you didn’t understand. You recognised one word though, out of the sling of foregn language, Printessa; princess. You smiled in her familiar embrace.
You couldn’t stop the whine that escaped your mouth when she pulled away. Natasha chuckled.
“Come on, little one. Wands made breakfast. You can have more cuddles after.” She reached for your hand and you gave it to her willingingly. She led you through a rather pretty house. It was homey but not without a clean feel to it. The white carpet was soft under your feet and the beige walls made the house seem warm. The view outside the large windows in the kitchen was marvelous. Lush green forest surrounded the house and if you looked close, you could even see little animals flitting around. Yes, it was beautiful but it was nothing compared to the woman standing at the stove. Auburn hair reached almost to her waist, her face was round and her smile drew you in. She felt new though, newer than Natasha. Nervously, you moved to stand slightly behind Natty. Wanda’s smile never faltered though. Natasha squeezed your hand.
“Don’t be rude, little one. Say hi to Wanda.”
“Hi Wanda,” you said quietly. Then jumped back as a plate set itself on the table. You clutched Natasha’s hand tighter.
“Woahh, her eyes are red.” Nat and Wanda laughed simultaneously,
“They do that a lot. It’s okay, she won't hurt you. Wanda loves you just like Natty loves you.” You nodded and feeling slightly more confident you let go of Nat's hand and walked up to the counter. You gave Wanda a sheepish smile. She smiled back brightly.
“Would you like some breakfast?” You nodded vigorously. She went to reach for a plate but your hushed call stopped her.
“Wait,” she turned, still smiling, “can you make it fly again?” you whispered. Wanda's eyes turned red and the plate flew across the room. You watched in wonderment as red tendrils set it down gently in front of you. Without thinking you clapped your hands together.
Wanda and Natasha smiled at each other, talking in hushed voices as you ate your food, oblivious to their conversation.
“She doesn’t remember anything about before, I checked.” Nat rolled her eyes,
“I know that, but why doesn’t she remember you?” Wanda shrugged,
“I could only do so much, it happens sometimes. She just latched on to the first person she knew. It’s better you than me.” Wanda gave Nat that smile that she knew her girlfriend couldn’t resist, but Natasha still shook her head,
“I would argue but there’s no use now. I just…Thank you.. For bringing her around.” Wanda nodded. She kissed Nat lightly on the lips but before she could deeped in, the other girl pulled back.
You shouldn’t have gone with her. You told yourself it wasn’t your fault. You told yourself that you were the victim, well maybe not the victim but definitely not the cause. You tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t your fault. You were lying.
The trip had started off good. You’d ridden in the backseat of an admittedly beautiful limo. Natasha sat next to you. She was more relaxed than she had been earlier, smiling at you as you got in the car.
“Y/n,” she had said happily, “do you have everything you need?” You nodded and couldn’t help smiling back. The ride had been an hour and it was mostly silent but not an awkward silence. No, it was rather comfortable as far as car rides with the woman who kidnapped you based on a weird delusion could be. You’d even caught yourself humming to the radio.
The shopping wasn’t bad either. Her men held your bags as the two of you went from store to store. You bought thing after thing, dresses, hats, shoes, jewelry. Natasha didn’t spare a single expense either, allowing you anything you wanted. She seemed to have a bottomless bank account. You hated to admit that you enjoyed yourself.
At least until the lingerie store. You’d picked out an all black set and went into the dressing room to try them on. As you looked at your almost naked body in the mirror, the curtian open. You reflexively moved to cover your exposed skin. Natasha smirked and batted your hands back.
“So pretty,” she said in a low voice, her eyes trained on your half exposed boobs.
“Take a good look now cuz it’s the last time you’ll see them.” Looking at her dead in the eyes, You pulled your shirt back on and moved to walk out of the room. She stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.
“Dont touch me.” You growled quietly. She ignored this, “You plan on stealing that?” You ripped the tag of and pressed it into her hand. As soon as she moved her hand off of you, you stalked out of the store, escape the only thing on your mind now, you broke into a run, approaching the nearest person. A middle aged woman in workout wear, a gym back slung over her shoulder with a purple yoga mat sticking out of it.
“Please,” you grabbed her arm, “you have to help me.” You glanced behind you, heart pounding.
“She kidnapped me, my name is y/n l/n, ‘i’m from america-” looking behind you again you caught a flash of Nat’s red hair. “She’s coming. Go, call the police.” The woman nodded at you and turned pulling her phone out of her pocket, her eyes wide with worry. Natasha’s too familiar hand clamped down on your shoulder.
“What did you say to her?”
“N-nothing,” you cursed yourself for not being better at lying, “she asked for directions, that’s all.” She narrowed her eyes at you and pulled out her gun. It was as if it was happining in slow motion. Natasha cocked the gun and aimed flawlessly. There was a bang, the gun kicked back and the woman dropped like a stone. You ran towards her, Natasha walking calmly behind you. The area had cleared completely. You stopped when you reached the woman, a pool of blood was forming around her crumpled body. Her leg was bent the wrong way and a there was a bullet hole in her back. She lay face down. You took a step back and then another until your back hit a wall and you slid down it, pulling your knees to your chest.
Natasha walked past you, sparing you only a glance as she approached the woman, kicking the back out of the way she reached down to the woman's phone and ended the phone call. You didn’t really see her crush the phone under her foot because something had rolled over to you, stopping just short of your sneakers, now stained with blood. Your heart dropped. It was as if the horror stopped your body from working. A baby bottle filled with golden liquid. Apple juice probably.
“Y/n. It’s time to go.” You just stared at the bottle, picturing the kid who would never know their mother because of you.
“Y/n, get up.” You didn’t move, you couldn’t. Your head was spinning and you felt like throwing up. Without warning you were pulled to your feet by your arm. You squealed at the sudden pain and heard Natasha bark at the man to loosen his grip. You stumbled behind, still being pulled by the arm into the car. As soon as the doors closed, the car pulled out.
“Na-” you started, your head still spinning. She turned to you, face terrifyingly blank,
“No.” That was all she said on the ride back. You arrived at the house and she got out of the car. The doors locked behind her and you stayed put. You heard the trunk open and close, then she got back in. They’d taken you to a hotel. Natasha escorted you to a room.
“Mine is across the hall.” She said stiffly then left the room. You knew her guards would let you leave the floor, let alone the hotel, so you nodded a thank you and did as you were told for once. You collapsed into the bed, finally letting yourself cry. A woman was dead because of you. You knew it was your fault. Another motherless child all because you couldn’t obey. No more, you thought to yourself. You would be good. Behave. Do what she asked you to. After all, it was only a year. No one else had to die.
