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Whistle (Yelena Belova x Reader)

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All Roads Lead To

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

A Family of Her Own Series

8/10

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 4.1k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Thanos has too much power in his hands and changes the world with a simple snap of his fingers. Set during Infinity War

There’s something about the way Natasha kissed you. Her lips were always soft and warm, moving slowly as if savoring every second. She trailed her fingers along your hip, her touch gentle and reassuring. You were both tangled up in the sheets, nestled close, listening to the quiet rhythm of each other’s breathing.

When the need for air became too much she pulled back just a little, her forehead resting against yours, her thumb tracing gentle circles over your side. Her eyes were soft, carrying that familiar look of quiet affection.

“Stay a little longer?” You asked softly, reaching up to brush a lock of red hair from her face. "In bed with me. The kids aren't awake."

Natasha smiled, her hand covering yours. “I can manage that,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. For a moment, the world outside didn’t exist. It was just the two of you, wrapped in warmth and each other.

Her hand slipped under your shirt, her touch trailing lightly over the skin. The two of you shifted just enough to remove the clothing, leaving you bare before her. She kissed your neck and collarbone, her hand resting over your heart.

Natasha's lips met yours again, her teeth scraping against your lower lip. You let out a gasp when she nipped your skin, your nails digging into her shoulder. She soothed the small bite mark with her tongue before kissing her way down your chest.

Your breathing quickened when she reached the swell of your breast. Natasha looked up, meeting your gaze. She waited, and when you nodded, her mouth descended, her tongue drawing a circle around your nipple.

You arched up towards her, a breathy sigh escaping your lips. Natasha sucked the sensitive bud, her free hand sliding over your skin, tracing patterns across your body. She's so gentle, treating you like you're precious.

The sensation is overwhelming. It's not just the physical pleasure. There's an emotional connection, a closeness that feels almost too much. The two of you were connected, bodies and minds intertwined, and she knew exactly how to touch you. This was the longest period Natasha's been home in a long while. You didn’t know how long she'd be able to stay. You couldn’t think about that then. Not with her lips on your skin, her fingers dipping between your thighs, teasing and exploring.

You tugged her closer, desperate for the feel of her against you, and Natasha responded eagerly. She slid a leg between yours, her thigh pressing against you. You whimpered and ground against her, seeking out more.

"I love you," She whispered into your skin.

"I love you too." You kissed her again, your hands sliding down her sides.

Natasha rolled her hips against you, and your breath hitched. You clung to her, letting her lead. Just as Natasha leaned in to press another kiss to your lips, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. The unexpected sound cut through the calm, and she sighed, her expression shifting.

"Ignore it," She mumbled.

It wasn’t a difficult request. You wanted to. But even as Natasha's lips returned to yours, her hand slipping between your thighs, the phone buzzed again. And again.

Natasha cursed under her breath, pulling away reluctantly. She picked up the phone, glancing at the screen, her shoulders tensing.

"What," She snapped. You almost felt sorry for the person on the other end of that call. As she listened, her eyes darkened, and the relaxed warmth she wore moments ago vanished. You watched her face change, the worry becoming unmistakable.

"There's a threat," Steve's voice crackled over the line, his words heavy. "Wanda and Vision are in trouble."

She sat up, her expression unreadable. Her hand dropped from its place on your thigh to the bed. You scooted out from under her to sit up.

"Nat? What is it?" You asked. 

"Edinburgh is about two hours away from here by car," Natasha held up a hand. "I wouldn't make it to them in time."

"What's happening?"

"Wanda and Vision need backup. There's a group of people, they're... enhanced or aliens. Not sure. They're going after Vision, they think he's some kind of threat. They're trying to destroy him." Natasha gave you the cliff notes version. She's been keeping track of this ordeal for the past few days.

"So what's the plan? What are we going to do?" You questioned.

"There's a black car pulling up in less than five minutes," Steve informed her over the phone. "I have a jet."

Natasha’s hand closed around her phone. She muttered another curse under her breath as she shifted into a more upright position, the intensity in her eyes returning. You moved to sit beside her, instinctively reaching for her hand.

"Nat? What’s going on?” you asked again quietly, but the gravity in her expression told you more than words ever could.

She squeezed your hand, looking at you with an apologetic half-smile. “I have to go." Natasha’s eyes softened at your response, even as her body tensed with the need to act. “Steve’s sending someone to pick me up. They’ll be here in less than five.”

“Of course he is,” You said with a sigh, giving her hand another squeeze. Despite your hangups, you knew her team needed her too. “You’ll make it in time, right?”

She looked away for a second, her jaw set. “I hope so." Natasha’s voice was calm but edged with a tension you rarely saw—one that always appeared when it was about someone she cared for. She glanced out the window, her fingers tapping absently as if counting down the seconds until the car arrived.

"You're waiting for me to say yes," You realized. Natasha remained silent. "Would you stay if I said no?"

"I would," She replied. "But I have to go anyway. If you didn't want me to."

"That's not fair."

"I know," Natasha replied softly. She didn’t look at you.

The silence stretched. It was not an uncomfortable one, but it did leave plenty of room for thought. You took her hand again. "I love you, Nat."

"I love you too," She leaned forward to kiss you. It wasn’t rushed. Her lips were gentle against yours, and her free hand caressed your cheek. She broke away first, resting her forehead against yours. "I have to get dressed."

You nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I'll be here when you get back."

"I'll be back soon." Natasha pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before getting out of bed. She moved swiftly but with purpose. She headed to the bathroom, brushing her teeth with quick, practiced motions, her mind already a step ahead, planning her next actions. A pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and her sneakers were on in seconds; her real gear, she’d change into on the jet. She spared a glance toward the bedroom, where you sat watching her.

"I'll take them home," You told her. "Back to Missouri." It's where they would be the safest. Where you would be the safest.

"I'll call you," She promised, her voice low. Her phone vibrated again, and her brow furrowed. "And I really have to go."

You nodded, a lump in your throat. "I'll see you when you get back."

The corner of Natasha's lips twitched up in a tired smile. "Take care of yourself. Stay safe."

With a final look, Natasha turned to head out but paused in the doorway. A small smile crossed her face as she tiptoed down the hall, slipping into the room where your two little ones were fast asleep.

First, she leaned down to press a soft kiss on Stella’s forehead. The three-year-old stirred slightly, murmuring something before settling back into her dream. Natasha brushed a stray lock of hair away from Stella’s face, her heart tightening with a love so fierce it ached. She moved to Nicky’s crib, watching the one-year-old sleep peacefully, his tiny hand curled around his favorite blanket. Natasha leaned down, pressing a light kiss on his cheek.

It took all her strength to pull away. She slipped out of the room quietly and headed to the front door, where the black car waited in the early dawn light. Natasha took a deep breath before stepping outside, casting one last glance back at the home she was leaving behind—for now. This time on the run with you, she'd figured out what was important to her. Not that she'd ever forgotten. She'd been stubborn to think that she could live these two lives.

You watched her from the window as she headed to the car, her posture tense, her head bowed. You wondered if you should stop her. You could have. She'd stay, and you'd talk her down and keep her safe.

But that wouldn't be fair. You've had this conversation a hundred times. You've talked until you're blue in the face. The world is still a dangerous place, and she would never turn her back on that.

A sudden, sharp cry echoed from the hallway. Nicky was awake. You had a job to do also.

********

Being in the quinjet felt nostalgic. It felt like home. Sam sat in the co-pilot's seat, his fingers deftly navigating the controls while he glanced back at Natasha and Steve, who were securing their gear.

“ETA fifteen minutes,” Sam announced, his voice steady but laced with an underlying tension. “We’ll be touching down just outside Edinburgh.”

“Got it,” Steve replied, checking the straps on his shield before looking over at Natasha, who was securing her holster to her thigh, the familiar click echoing in the confined space. She looked up, her expression focused.

“Banner filled me in on what he and Tony discussed,” Steve said, leaning against the wall of the cabin. “Thanos is coming for Vision. If he gets the Mind Stone, it’s game over.”

"And this Thanos..." Natasha questioned.

"Bad news," Steve sighed. "He's an alien warlord from the planet Titan, and he wants the Infinity Stones. If he gets his hands on them, the universe is screwed."

"What are the chances we win?"

"Well, considering we're the good guys, we should have the odds on our side."

"Yeah, well, you're Captain America," Natasha shrugged, securing the last buckle. "If anyone can beat the odds, it's you."

"And if I fail?"

"Then the rest of us will pick up the pieces and try again. That's how this works." Natasha smiled at Steve. "And I'll be right beside you, whether you like it or not."

"Thank you," Steve replied, his expression serious.

"Hey, what were you doing on this side of the world anyway?" Sam asked from his seat. Flashes of the past eight months came to her. You and the kids, the house, the simple life, the love.

"Just checking in with some old friends," Natasha smiled, but it was a thin, forced one. Steve gave her a knowing look.

"You've got friends?" Sam grinned. "Other than us I mean."

"Don't sound so surprised, Wilson."

"We'll have time for catching up later," Steve reminded her, looking at Natasha. "When this is all over."

Natasha nodded, but the words hung in the air, and her eyes betrayed her uncertainty. She took a deep breath, trying to push the doubts away, to focus on the mission.

***********

The atmosphere in the Avengers Compound was tense and she needed a moment to be alone. After saving Wanda and Vision and flying back to New York she needed time to breathe. She decided on the courtyard. The cool breeze blew through her hair, a slight chill in the air. Her arms crossed, gazing out at the horizon as the sun dipped below the trees. She could hear the distant chatter of the others as they strategized, but her mind was elsewhere.

"Hey," Steve approached her. "Am I interrupting?"

"No, I'm fine." Natasha shook her head. "Just needed a moment."

"Everything alright?"

"It's fine, Cap," Natasha replied. "Don't worry about me."

Steve's expression softened, and he hesitated, looking out at the sunset. "Do you ever wish things were different?" He asked.

Natasha let out a humorless laugh. "All the time."

"I'm sorry," Steve said."How are y/n and the kids?"

"They're okay," Natasha's lips tugged upward at the thought of you. "They're probably on a plane back home now. Safe."

"They'll be glad to see you when we're done."

"If we get out of this."

"We will," Steve reassured her. "I promise. We'll go through everything we can find, and we'll figure it out."

"You don't know that."

"Maybe not. But I can hope."

"Sometimes I wonder why I bother coming back," Natasha said softly. "Every time I walk through the door, there's a chance it'll be my last."

"Why do you?"

"Because it's worth it," Natasha said simply. "It means something."

Steve nodded, understanding. "You don't have to come back."

"I can't just walk away."

"Why not?"

"Because someone has to be there." Natasha's voice was quiet. "Someone has to fight."

Steve nodded. "You've got a family. And they're waiting for you."

"I know," Natasha's voice was softer, her gaze dropping.

"I'm not gonna force you to go," Steve continued. "But it's not gonna be the same without you. So think about it. We could use your help."

"I'm in," Natasha decided, meeting his gaze. "I'm here aren't I?"

"Yeah, you are," Steve smiled.

"What's our plan?"

"I don't think we have one," Steve admitted.

"You're the tactician, Rogers."

"So are you," Steve pointed out.

"You're better at it," Natasha insisted.

"I'm not."

"I am," Natasha replied, the two of them grinning.

"Okay, fine," Steve laughed.

*********

The car rumbled down the paved road, the trees lining the way to home as you glanced in the rearview mirror. You didn’t expect her to be awake but Stella's eyes looked back at you through the mirror.

"Hi, baby," You cooed at her. “We’re almost home.” 

"I'm not a baby. I'm three," She held up three fingers.

"Of course, you're not."

"Where's Mama?" Stella asked.

"She had to go away for a bit," You told her.

"But she'll come back?"

"Yes," You nodded, turning down the long driveway.

"Okay," Stella sighed.

You pull up next to the house, killing the engine.

"Can you call her and tell her we're at this house now? So she doesn't forget," Stella asked.

"Sure thing," You nodded. Truth is you'd tried calling Natasha several times in the past day. As you sat in the driver’s seat, the knot in your stomach tightened, overshadowing the comfort of home.

“I don’t want her to forget us,” Stella said, her small fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt.

You turned to face her. "She won't forget us," You reassured her. "Your Mama loves you so much. And she's going to miss you every minute. Now how about we go inside and cuddle? Me, you, and your brother?"

"I want a cookie," Stella said.

"After dinner."

"Okay," She bounced.

You stepped out of the car and opened the door for her. She slid out, running toward the house, her small legs carrying her across the lawn. She stopped at the door and turned back to wait for you. You carried Nicky, following her into the house.

"Can I watch a show?" Stella asked.

"Just one."

"Thank you," Stella grinned and rushed off to the living room.

You took the moment of peace to lay Nicky down and give him a bottle. Your mind wandered to the last time you were home. Almost nine months ago. Being on the run you'd spent your time in different places, different cities, but none of them felt like this home. This house you'd picked out furniture with your wife. A few hours ago, Natasha had been holding the kids. The thought of her being gone already stings.

You pulled out your phone, sending a quick text.

Hey. We're home. Miss you already. Call when you can.

You put the phone on the counter and walked back to the living room. Nicky was still asleep. It's amazing what he could sleep through.

"TV's not working," Stella announced.

"I'll fix it after dinner," You assured her.

"And I can have a cookie?"

"After dinner," You said again.

Stella sat cross-legged on the couch. "Do you think Mama's okay?"

"I do," You nodded.

"But she's not here," Stella pouted.

"She wants to be," You replied. "And she's gonna come home soon. Okay? Do you trust me?"

"Yeah," Stella nodded.

"So, let's make a list of everything you want to do with Mama when she gets home."

"We can go to the park?" Stella offered.

"Absolutely. That's a good one. What else?"

"Um..." Stella thought. "We can play dolls?"

"She'd love that."

"And have a tea party."

"Oh, that's a good idea."

"And make cookies," Stella suggested.

"Yes, we can make a lot of cookies."

"And have a sleepover."

"Mama would like that," You nodded. "She will be home soon."

***********

The Quinjet touched down with a quiet thud, the engines winding down as Natasha stepped out onto the grassy field. The air was still, heavy with a silence that felt almost surreal after the chaos of the last forty-eight hours. She had left the remaining Avengers behind, her heart pounding with urgency as she stole away in the jet. The world was in turmoil, but all that mattered now was getting back to her family.

As she scanned the familiar landscape, her heart raced. The truck sat parked in the driveway, just like always. The sight filled her with a false sense of hope—a flicker of normalcy amid the chaos. Maybe it was just another day. Maybe Stella was inside, and Nicky was playing with his toys, waiting for her to come home. Maybe she would find you with your glasses perched atop your nose, reading some book you'd found on Reese Witherspoon's book club list.

Natasha climbed the porch steps, her body feeling like lead, exhaustion setting in as the adrenaline rush faded. She opened the front door quietly, stepping inside the darkened house.

"Y/n?"

Her voice echoed through the stillness. There was no reply.

Natasha's heart sank. It was just as empty as it had been before. No sounds of Stella's laughter or Nicky's cries. No sign of life. The familiar scent of home was still there, but it felt hollow. No laughter echoed through the halls, no little feet scampering to greet her. The stillness was suffocating.

She walked into the room, taking note of the obvious signs of you being there before. Stella's stuffed shark was on the floor, and Nicky's blanket was thrown carelessly on the couch. Thanos snapped his finger and everyone was gone. Right before her eyes her friends, her family, and her people disappeared. Now she's come home to an empty house, the only proof that any of you ever existed.

You were gone.

Natasha sat on the couch, the weight of the realization crashing down on her.

Her hand moved instinctively to the ring hanging from a chain around her neck.

"Y/n?" She called again, hoping against all hope that you would appear out of thin air and hug her and everything would be fine.

"Hello?" She received a response back. It caused her to jump to her feet. She rushed toward the front door and her heart almost fell out of her chest. Standing before her was your neighbor from the house down the road, Mabel. She had a shocked expression on her face but it wasn’t about her. It was about the tiny boy in her arms. Nicky was cradled on her hip, tears hanging at the tip of his lashes, and his eyes red.

"Nicky," She breathed, disbelief flooding her senses as she pushed open the screen door and rushed to Mabel's side. "I can't believe it. You're okay."

Nicky looked at her for a second, his eyes widening in recognition and then he let out a shriek.

"Mama!" He cried, stretching his arms towards her.

Natasha didn't hesitate. She scooped him into her arms, holding him close, feeling his tiny heart pounding against her own. “Mabel,” Natasha said, her voice trembling. “What happened? How do you have him?"

Mabel’s expression shifted from shock to sympathy, her lips pressing together in a thin line. “I came to check on you all after… well, after everything,” she said softly, her gaze dropping to Nicky, who clutched at Natasha’s shirt, still sobbing quietly. “I could hear crying. I had come for help. I peeked inside that window over there and saw him alone in his pack-and-play. I had to break the window." She raised her hand to show off her new injury wrapped in gauze.

"How long had he been here?" Natasha asked.

"I came maybe an hour after the dust took Roy," Mabel answered. "I knew your family was back in town and..."

The room spun for a moment as the reality of it all crashed over Natasha. The thought of her son being alone, frightened in the house, sent a cold wave of dread through her. “He was alone for an hour?”

“I got here as soon as I could,” Mabel reassured, her eyes filled with concern. “He’s okay, just scared. I held him until you came home.”

"Thank you, Mabel. You have no idea."

"Well, he's such a sweet little boy. It was my pleasure."

"Are you sure he's okay? I can take him to the hospital," Natasha offered.

"No need. He's a bit shaken, but otherwise, he's fine. And I was a paramedic remember? I know a thing or two."

"R-right, thank you," Natasha sighed, her relief mingling with her fear and exhaustion.

"Any time. If there's anything else, just holler," Mabel said, stepping off the porch. "I'll leave you all be."

"Wait, are you going to be alone?"

"No, no, luckily my sister lives in the next town over. She's alright and she's on her way."

"If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call," Natasha insisted.

"I will. I promise. You take care of that boy and yourself, okay?"

"I will."

Mabel hugged Natasha, a tear rolling down her cheek. "Take care, Natasha."

"You too."

As the door clicked shut behind Mabel, silence enveloped Natasha and Nicky. It all settled heavily on her shoulders, and she glanced down at her son, who was still nestled against her. His small frame seemed fragile in her arms, and she felt a rush of protectiveness flood her heart.

“Okay, little guy,” she murmured, trying to muster the strength she knew she needed. “It’s just you and me now.” Nicky’s bright eyes searched hers, and she could see a flicker of confusion and fear within them. “Mama’s here. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to be alright.”

She took a deep breath. “We just need to take it one step at a time,” she told him softly. “That’s what we’ll do, okay? Just one step at a time.”

Nicky blinked up at her, his little brows furrowing in confusion. He didn’t fully understand what had happened, and the thought tightened Natasha’s chest. “I know it’s scary right now,” she continued, stroking his hair gently. “But we’ll find a way through this. We’ll be okay. I promise you.”

Her mind raced with the uncertainty of the future. You and Stella were gone, lost to the Snap. Natasha’s heart ached at the thought of you, and the crushing reality that she might never see you again weighed heavily on her. “I’ll get them back,” she whispered to herself, her voice breaking slightly. “I have to. I can’t let this be the end.”

Nicky squirmed in her arms, a tiny whimper escaping his lips. “Mama?” he called out, his small voice tinged with uncertainty.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Natasha said, her heart breaking a little more with each passing second. “But I’m right here. You’re safe with me. We’re going to figure this out together.”

She pulled him closer, feeling the warmth of his body against her, and took another deep breath. “Let’s start with something simple, okay? How about we get you a snack? I bet you’re hungry. You always are.” She tried to inject some cheerfulness into her tone, hoping to distract him from the confusion surrounding them.

“Snack!” Nicky echoed, a touch of excitement flashing in his eyes.

Natasha gave him a weak smile.

She made her way into the kitchen, Nicky still clutched tightly in her arms. She could see the remnants of the family left behind. A half-finished coloring page, a forgotten sippy cup, and a few crayons scattered across the floor.

She placed Nicky in his high chair, her eyes brimming with tears. He reached out, grasping at her shirt, and she took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. He was afraid she’d disappear again. 

"It's going to be okay," She told him, her voice shaking. "We're going to be okay. I'm not leaving. I promise."

I just want a girl that’s as obsessed with me as I am with her. Let’s take candid photos of each other and post them everywhere. Make playlists for every possible mood, whether we’re feeling sappy or happy, or anything in between. Watch each other’s favorite movies and eat each other’s favorite foods. Know each other better than anyone else. Love isn’t effortless and the little things are what make it last.

OHHH MYY GAWDD help me I've fallen and I can't get up chileeeeee Vampire!Nat is ✨✨✨✨ but also 😈😈😈😈😈😈😈🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 in the BEST WAY POSSIBLE.... PICK ME UP AND DOM ME MOMMY AWOOOGA

MIDNIGHT VISITOR - (Red-Stained Fangs 2)

Pairing: Vampire!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: What happens when a breathtaking, dangerous vampire realizes that she's obsessed with you? Nothing good.

Warnings: Dark!Fic ; Top!Reader x Powerbottom!Natasha Romanoff ; Strap-on use; oral sex ; oral sex on strap-on; Daddy kink; slight mommy kink? ; mentions of murder (no character death) ; heavy blood mentions/ blood drinking/bleeding ; toxic relationship ; dub-con elements ; possessive dynamics; manipulation

A/N: Ok besties this hoe is pretty dark so be prepared. I listened to the Killing Eve soundtrack while writing this so... I am claiming no responsibility for when your therapists ask you why you want Nat to murder you

Word Count: 6k

Dedicated to my bestie @twilight-99-tm for just bein the best and being so patient with my constant cursed ideas, and also betaing this monstrosity

I have sharp teeth inside my mouth,

inside my dark red lips,

And lacquer slickly hides the claws

In my red fingertips.

- Angela Carter ‘Unicorn’

Moonlight converges on Natasha in an alleyway in the city. A place empty, and hollow, with the deceptive echoes of voices nearby bouncing on the walls. The man she follows does not quicken his steps. He doesn’t even know he needs to. He is fatally unaware that he should be running.

No one suspects her. No one could ever think she was as dangerous as she was.

Or as monstrous.

Her beauty is a beguiling of the worst kind.

A gentle, innoxious beckoning.

The false promise of safety. The lamb in a snare, pleading for help. An innocent, lost and confused, and a stranger is her only hope of salvation.

Until she is not the lamb, but the wolf. She is not the innocent, but the danger. And before they can blink, she moves.

They never see it coming.

They only realise what she is when the ground turns red.

……….

The body beneath her twitched, the throes of death just past. If you saw her like this, you wouldn't recognize her. Red hair wild, unkempt from effort and scuffle, fangs sunken into flesh, irises a bloody crimson, a sinister shine in the moonlight. The threat of promised execution in the darkness.

Her fangs pierced deeper still, penetrating skin and tendon, muscle and artery.

And she drank.

Drank til her prey was dry.

Her body reacts despite itself, and the thought of you begins somewhere illicit in her mind.

A low thrum of anticipation settles in her core, thighs flexing as she stifles the ache, or hushes it, at least, until you were near.

To satisfy a hunger of a different breed.

Night always seemed the darkest when Natasha was heading home after feeding. Inky blackness above, a sky void of light, of all its stars, a cimmerian reflection of her soul. Of her thoughts. It’s not guilt. She has long since eradicated any semblance of that pitiful emotion over her eclectic appetites, the light in her preys’ eyes which once shone like a beacon in the back of her mind, now dulled to an imperceptible nothing. There is not a face, a soul she’s taken, that keeps her awake at night. She runs the tip of her tongue on her fangs, reminiscing in the fresh blood that covered them just an hour before. She is what she is, and she’s made peace with that.

What does give her pause though, is her immortality.

The slow, deceptive budding of a thousand years ahead of her, more even.

Days, months pass, and she figures herself normal. She lives like everyone else around her.

Then on occasion, she looks in the mirror and finds that she’s looked at the same face for five hundred years. She brings delicate hands to soft, cold lips, a face without flaw or wrinkle, eyes as green as the pines. Hair red, and full, never a sliver of grey, always resting under her shoulders blades since the rise and fall of the Tsars of Russia.

And suddenly, the budding sprouts, and she is being dragged under.

Infinity weighs on her shoulders. Time crests above her, seemingly endless, an ocean eternal. And the wave crashes and she fears she will drown in it. She fears that her life will go until there is no pleasure to be found in it, no pain, no sorrow, no happiness. The fear of emptiness. Emptiness disguised so wickedly as grandeur, as boon.

She hasn’t blinked in 4 minutes. Her fingers are crushing the steering wheel beneath her grip.

She is drowning in the wave.

And then her phone rings.

Baby❤ is calling.

The wave releases her, and she swims to shore.

“Hi, baby,” she breathes, an easy relief in her voice.

“Hey sweetheart.”

Though she tried to resist it, a smile bloomed on blood-stained cheeks, and she focused intently to the sound of your voice on the line. In this moment, nothing else mattered but you.

You, the one who was so achingly hers.

You continued, “I’ve been kinda missing you.”

Her brow ticks upward playfully, “Kinda? Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you know. Just a little.”

“And why should I not hang up on you?”

“Okay wait, wait, I wanna come over.”

Her smile widened, and she flexed her fingers on the wheel. Even after all this time, you still make her blush. Though she would never let you know that.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’m coming over.”

She laughed, pulling her lower lip into her mouth, dragging her teeth on it. She put on the most teasing voice she could muster, “I can’t wait, Daddy.”

The anticipation began climbing in her lower stomach when she heard your low, wicked chuckle pour through the line.

“Good girl.”

Oh, it was going to be a good night.

Natasha barely had time to wash the blood off her mouth when your headlights flashed through the dark curtains of her house. Her thighs were already shaking, already fatigued from being so painfully clenched together as she tamped down her substantial arousal for the better part of two hours. She ran her fingers through her hair, taking a last minute check in the mirror when the doorknob turned.

She held her breath as the thrill of your nearness flooded through her. She was always excited to see you. Then you finally stepped through the doorway, and she was unaware of how unsteady her legs have been since you’ve been gone. How a slow, enduring coil that had been winding tighter and tighter suddenly released when she saw you.

Her breath left her in a rush, and she smiled at you as you met her eyes. You beamed, putting down your bag and stepping forward when you noticed that very new, very tight dress she was wearing. Dark grey, encasing her like a second skin, the fabric so thin that you could see the ripple of muscle in her thighs, and across her torso.

Natasha preened under your lascivious gaze, reading every thought, everything you wanted to do to her as it was being written all over your face. She gently pushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing the column of her neck, and that ocean of cool, creamy skin. No jewellery to interrupt the flow of the eye, to draw your attention to anywhere that wasn’t her. You watched as her breaths deepened in concealed excitement, and for a moment you were the predator and she was your prey.

As you took her in, openly admired her, all she could think about was how good your touch felt against her skin, and how she couldn’t wait for you to get your hands on her again, so she could drown in your caress, and lose herself in your ample, intoxicating affections. And no matter how good her skin felt under your grip, no matter the low blossoming excitement when goosebumps flourished on her skin at your touch, it always felt better when she was against your lips, against your mouth.

“I missed you, Daddy,” she whispered, a confession that had been simmering in her for hours, finally bubbling over.

That kindled something in you. Broke you from your trance and you met her eyes again. Her cheeks burned with arousal, and she fidgeted where she stood.

Nothing has ever had this effect on her. In over 500 years, nothing enchants her - possesses her - like you do.

“I missed you too. I’ve been thinking about you, baby.” You advanced, and that deep thrill in her core spiked.

She struggled to restrain herself, struggled to respond. Her voice was eluding her.

“What have you been thinking about?” she finally managed to rasp out.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you. About how good you look when you’re bouncing on my lap.”

Nat ached so hard that it was almost painful, and she had the distinct feeling of emptiness between her thighs. Missing your length. Missing how perfectly you fit inside her. She swallowed, that familiar tension coiling tight in her gut. A warmth settled low, and she kept your gaze as steady as she could.

Until she noticed the telltale bulge under your jeans. It was ready and waiting for her beneath the fabric.

Her lips parted at the sight of it, a deep inhale building slow in her chest. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. She didn’t anticipate how badly she wanted it. How badly she wanted you.

…….

Two nights ago, you and Natasha didn’t even make it inside. You were standing outside her house, holding her leg up around your hip, your pants around your ankles, as you fucked her against the wall. Her arms wrapped like a vise around your shoulders, and her tongue was far down your throat as you thrusted frantic hips against her. She was whimpering at your appetence, your dominance, how you gripped her like there was nowhere you’d rather be, and nothing else you’d rather be doing.

Desperation escalated between you, the heat of your bodies pressed against each other in the cool night air. She remembered the thrill of it. The thrill of being caught. Of someone passing by and seeing you take her. Of someone knowing what you do to her, knowing that you own her, and she owns you.

She wanted them to see. She wanted them to see how good she was for you. How good she took your strap.

She remembered her high ascending, spilling over, and she pressed her mouth against yours hard, making you taste her orgasm, the way you made her feel. She remembered moaning into your mouth, clutching at your face so desperately as you made her cum around your cock.

The night didn’t end there.

…….

Your voice pulled her from her flashback.

You smirked at her. "I know that you're soaking through that pathetic excuse for underwear."

Her back straightened, and she flashed her teeth. "Who said I was wearing any?"

That perfectly aimed line did exactly what she wanted it to do. Your eyes darkened by shades, and you dragged them down from her face, to where her legs parted.

Her thighs flexed, heavy muscle clenching as you walked up to her. Her nerves were alight with excitement, every sense heightened as she tried to contain herself. To restrain what lurks. And soon, you were on her. Her legs parted on instinct, making space for you, letting you stake your claim on her body again, as you’ve done so many times already. In so many positions.

Strong hands reached down to cup her ass, and grip the considerable muscle, pulling her hips into you. You were teasing her. Making her chase your mouth. Making her grind her core on the strap concealed by your pants.

She was already hungry for it.

It was already too many seconds since you stepped through the door. It was too many hours since you last filled her. Too long since you pounded her into the mattress.

She was growing tired of the game.

….

2 years ago

The air was thick with spirits, and laughter, and cigarette smoke. Strobe lights and neon penetrated the darkness, and music pounded in her ears.

She remembers how oblivious you were. Sitting next to her in a grungy club, completely unaware of the fact that beneath that beautiful, soft pout, there were 2 inch fangs.

You didn't know that she could smell your blood as it rushed through your arteries. She could hear the sound of your heartbeat, of the way it picked up in pace when you looked at her. The way that despite the darkness of the room, she noticed every single detail on your face. Every detail down your neck.

You didn't even know creatures like her existed.

You were so naive. So delicious.

She couldn't wait to have you.

Her nails could be sharp, could slice into you, but she is a master of control. Of restraint. She rests her hand on your leg purposefully, gripping the heavy muscle and inching up, fragment by fragment to your upper thigh.

You followed the hand, and your heart pounded furiously. She was well aware. You made yourself look at her, and she poured desire into her expression.

"Take me home."

She knew this game too well.

…………

You couldn't help yourself. Her skin was an opiate against your lips, and she knew just how to combine the need and the pain to make you ravenous. You were starved for her, lips quivering with avarice.

She was pleading for your mouth, imploring for a taste of your tongue. And you granted it to her, slipping it between her lips and she sucked on you and moaned against you. Your reach descended, fingertips teasing low down that short, tight goddamn dress, and you slipped a bold hand between her legs.

Fuck, her arousal was dripping down her thighs.

You groaned at the feeling of it, and even more when she whined at your touch. You'd never wanted anyone more. Never wanted anything more than to make Natasha cum until her thighs were shaking and her voice was overused into nothing.

She clutched at your face with such desperation, grinding her front against the bulge of your strap hidden behind your pants. She was begging for it. Desperate for you. For that decadent, vulgar completion your strap offered.

She ran her hand down your shirt, hand flat against your stomach, instinct and hunger driving her direction. She found what she was looking for, fingers immediately gripping the dense length of the strap and enticing it from its concealment. You took her hands in yours, stilled their movement, and a low chuckle rumbled in your throat.

“Impatient thing, aren’t you, baby?”

“Shut up.”

Before you could retort, she pulled her hands from your grip, and was on her knees in front of you. Whatever you wanted to say died on your tongue. You don’t know how she kept eye contact with you as she undid your belt, giving you that look of pure wickedness, that corrupting, one-sided smile that could make you bring down the moon and give it to her. She knew what she was doing, too. Making a show of it. The teasing peek of her tongue through her teeth, before it slithered out, and wet those sinful, intoxicating lips.

Finally, she had the strap free, in her hands, and she kissed the tip of it. You didn’t know how your knees were still holding you up, but they did.

She took your strap into her mouth as far back as she could, her eyes twinkling like starlight from her position on her knees. You ran your fingers through her hair and she moaned for you, her hips starting a slow grind at your attention.

"You look so good like that, Nat."

Pointed nails dug into your thighs as she bobbed her head up and down the length of your strap, scraping down the back of your legs. She released it with a lewd pop, taking it in her hands, teasing, naughty, and slapped it on her tongue. You groaned, and that wicked smile returned on her face, the smirk of a woman who was getting exactly what she wanted.

You got her off her knees, and then, incensed in a moment of pure animal impetus, picked her up, and powerful legs immediately wrapped around your waist. She grabbed your face, kissing you, drinking your lust, and meeting your tongue with her own. With her arms wrapped around your shoulders, you pressed her back up against the wall, giving you leverage to position the toy that was in her mouth just seconds earlier.

“Do you like being a little tease, baby?”

Still supporting her with one hand, you took the other and rubbed the tip of the strap against her core, and her breath caught and fractured in her throat. She rolled her hips as hard as she could, anything to encourage your movement, anything to make you put it inside of her. Green irises blazed white-hot, boring into your eyes and she whispered against your lips.

“Please, Daddy. I’ll do anything. Just fuck me.”

Fuck, you could never say no to that.

“Is this what you want, baby?” You slapped the strap against her folds, and she winces and whines at its touch. "You think you deserve my cock?"

She whimpered, nails scraping through your shirt as she clutched at you.

"Yes, I fucking deserve it. Please-"

Without warning, a smirk plastered on your face and sated with her delicious begging, you slid the strap with tremendous ease into her, and she gasped against you, legs tightening like a vise around your hips. At your first thrust, her nails pressed harder and you heard the fabric of your shirt rip under her claws, but you were too occupied on the heaving breasts in front of you to care.

You craned your neck down, straining, desperate to bestow kisses onto her tits, and she pushed them up for you, as you licked and lathered the creamy, cool skin with your tongue. She mewled at the feeling of your mouth, overwhelmed with sensation, her whole body jerking with your thrusts, slow at first, and you switched your attentions to the side of her neck, licking up her throat, tasting the bare-metal hint of her sweat.

She was moaning now, whimpers from before stamped down to make room for the cresting pleasure in her dripping pussy. Your strap hammered in, deep, long strokes and Natasha couldn't hold on any tighter. She grabbed your face, wrenching you free from your attention on her neck and pressed her mouth onto yours, forcing her tongue between your lips.

Nat's moans muffled into your kiss, you held her tighter and thrusted harder, faster, till those moans turned into choked whines, and her body stiffened up, pussy clenching around your strap as you delivered her first orgasm. She released your mouth, pulling away in a silent scream, eyes shut tight as your thrusts started to slow.

"Fuck, baby," she hissed, kissing your shoulders and your neck, her legs relaxing by leagues as she panted.

"You took me so well, sweetheart," you whispered, holding her up again and walking her to bed.

You put her down on the bed gently, your precious thing, marvelling at the way her thighs shook, and the green returned to her eyes. She smirked at you as you undressed, moving to help you, but you laid a steady hand on her stomach.

"Oh no, love. You're going to get out of that tight little dress before I tear it off you. You don't want that, do you?"

She shook her head, obedient, and began to unzip the side of her dress as you had finally rid yourself of your own clothes.

You could see the anticipation in her fingers as they shivered, her eyes on you, watching your every movement, flicking between the mischievous grin that had found itself on your face, to the way the strap teased her as it sat attached to your hips.

Legs pressed against the mattress, you leaned forward, hovering over Natasha, both arms on either side of her. She held her breath, patient, waiting to see what you were going to do, eager to please. Eager to be used.

You bent lower, and pressed your lips to the skin between her breasts, kissing a line lower and lower until you were right above her mound. Her breaths were coming faster now, her hands clutching, knuckles white with her grip on the sheets. You looked up at her and tilted your head in faux question.

Her eyes flashed red, and you smirked.

"You know what I want, Y/N," she snarled, frustration swelling in her voice.

"And what's that?"

Defiance and need swirled in her eyes, and she raised her hand, reaching for you.

"To cum on your tongue."

Before you could respond, she clutched at you, grabbing your jaw, and you knew the powers had shifted in your encounter, as they always do. She held you firmly, demanding, and pushed you flat onto your back in the bed. Want is a powerful beast, and in Natasha, it was untenable. But God, you enjoyed it. You loved how much she wanted you. How much she desired you. How much you could see it in everything she did.

She loves you. So much so, that in the beginning, it scared you. But now, you’re drunk on her.

You grab at her hips, eager, excited, aching to put your mouth on her, and she glimmers at your anticipation. Straddling your torso, she inches up, and you can’t help the way your mouth waters. Your arms wrap around her thighs and you pull her down, so she can finally rest herself onto your mouth.

As soon as your tongue presses against her clit, she keens, and trembling fingers find purchase in your hair. Her hips buck wild, and your tongue flattens and rubs against sensitive flesh, too far gone to tease. Too hungry for dalliance. Your lips wrap around her clit and suck, gentle at first, and then harder, and she moans, eyes pinned shut, her body quaking above you. Strong hands steady her position and your eyes are locked onto that beautiful face, moaning against her pussy at the addictive, intoxicating taste of her.

“Right there,” she sobs out, and her hands grip harder in your hair, almost painful, as you continue your ministrations.

“Yes right there, Y/N, I’m going to cum,” she whines, and you feel the unmistakable twitching of her pussy against your tongue.

Nat’s body locks above you, her eyes blinking open and vermillion raging in her irises, and suddenly your tongue is covered in her, as she screams out. You chuckle against her core, and she moves downwards, bending at the waist so she can taste herself on your mouth. You happily oblige, and she smiles gently against your lips.

When she pulls away, she brings her thumb to your lips, and you kiss the digit, taking her hand in yours and bestowing another kiss on her soft, cool palm. She cups your face, inching down, and you know where she’s headed.

Holding herself up right above your strap, she keeps her gaze unwavering on yours, lining up the cock with her entrance. This woman was truly insatiable, you mused silently, smirking with wicked intention, and you moaned when she sank herself down onto you. Immediately you were aware of her cool, liquid arousal soaking onto your skin.

You reached for her, but she grabbed your hands and pressed them down above your head.

Her hips coiled and slammed down, over and over, too painfully slow for your liking.

You wanted to say something, but she beat you to it.

“You know that you belong to me?” she whispered.

Immediately, you nodded, avid and besotted. Yes, I belong to you.

Her head tilted, and a strange, disconcerting look crossed her face.

Natasha’s smile was different then.

There was something else rippling beneath the typical softness in her eyes. Something deep, and jagged. Something dark.

“I want you with me, always, Y/N.”

There was something about the way she pressed the word ‘always’ between her teeth. Sinking her fangs into it and bleeding it for every last drop of its meaning. You were mesmerized by her mouth when she said it, or when she said anything, honestly. But there was a strange undertone in this sound.

Always.

Always. Always. Always. Always. Always.

ALWAYS.

“I will be, babe, you know that.” You tried to appease her, to reassure her, but that glassy, distant look in her eyes focused on you. And hardened.

“Will you?” she asks. “Forever?”

You nod, sincerely, yes, but cautiously too. You’ve never seen this look on her face before. She studies you, and her mind turns and turns. You can’t tell what she’s thinking anymore. At this moment, she is a stranger to you.

A face of Natasha you do not know.

“How do you know that?”

Odd. Everything about this is odd. There was a misplaced causticity in the question. An undertone of veiled distress. You blink, try to find the right words in your mind, but you can tell that you’re taking too long for her to be satisfied.

Her head tilts, and you feel like you’ve failed to prove a very important point.

“Exactly,” she whispers, and the word skitters along your spine. “You don’t.”

She raises up, red hair falling down her naked chest. You never thought someone could look so intimidating while they were bare, but Natasha was a lot of firsts for you. She stares down at you, admiring your body, running her cool hands down your stomach. You feel a gentle tug on your strap as she sits herself down on your hips more comfortably.

She does not meet your eyes when she speaks next. It’s almost like she’s talking to herself.

“We have to make sure.”

You fight to understand. You don’t have the slightest idea what she means.

“Make sure of what, baby?”

She grips your sides, firmly, like she was about to tell you something consequential. Then when she looks at you, you realise that it is. It is very grave indeed.

“We have to make sure that you are gonna be with me forever.”

There was a haunting lilt to her voice, a wispy, lurking hiss that slithered into your mind. You chuckled awkwardly, a light sound, grating against the strange tension in the air. She smiled at you, her brow ticking up with cryptic amusement.

You decided to play along. Nervousness thundered through you, and the once delicious weight of her body sitting on your hips, paired with the grip of cold hands on your sides were beginning to feel heavier with every passing moment in the silence.

"How are we gonna do that?"

If you had blinked in that moment, you would have missed the almost indistinguishable flutter of her features. Her expression settled into a calm, gentle mask, and the iron hold on your sides released as she stroked her hands up to your chest, and across your shoulders.

"You're going to live forever. With me."

It took you a second.

Live forever.

Forever.

An echo, a gnawing thing, parasitic and invasive, found itself in your mind when she said it. Forever tasted the same way 'Always' tasted on your tongue. It only truly dawned on you when you saw that rogue ember of red spark in her eyes.

She was going to turn you.

You had never pondered the future of your relationship with Natasha. With this vampire that would possess and overtake you every night. And maybe that was to your own detriment. Where else would a love affair with an immortal predator go? Did you think she would just live with you until death and then move on to another love? Did you think the relationship would have fizzled before you even had the chance to find out?

Maybe this was your own fault. Being so goddamn reckless. Getting tangled into a vampire's web.

You try to plead, to convince her that you just want some time to think about it, but she just runs her thumb over your lips, and shushes you silently.

“We'll always be together, Y/N. It will be perfect. Just you and me, always.”

Her eyes ripple, pools of viridian green distorting and corrupting to a haunting, brilliant yellow.

That was a new colour on her, and suddenly your hair stood on end. Your gut began to roll and protest against whatever was about to happen, and an innate panic set in. You were going to become a vampire, whether you liked it or not.

And that yellow in her eyes, that burned so bright, blazed like the sun– you vaguely feel a sick familiarity in its hue. Your mind flashed back to months ago, you wanted to go see your friend Christine. Natasha wasn't having it.

You were adamant to see your friend. It had been months, maybe a year, since you last hung out. And it was innocent. But Natasha didn't like it.

I see the way she looks at you, she said. I trust you, I don't trust her.

You were ready to argue your point, to make her bend to this seemingly simple request, and you saw it then. A flicker of yellow in her eyes. You thought it was a trick of the light. A passing car. The TV.

And then suddenly, you changed your mind. In a split second, your solid decision didn't seem so solid anymore. You didn't really want to see Christine. You were just stir-crazy and needed to get out of the house. And Natasha smiled at your agreement.

But when you remember it now, it wasn't her usual smile. That gentle pull at the corner of those plump lips. This was different. A satisfactory gleam in her eye. Like she just accomplished something.

You see the look again now.

And that yellow drowned the green in her irises, flooding it completely. Her grip and press on your arms intensified like lead weights. You cannot move.

"Nat, please. Let's just think about this."

She tuts, as if you asked her the silliest question. "There's nothing to think about, sweet thing. You love me, don't you?"

You balk at her inference. "Of course I do, Nat. You know that."

"Don't you know I'm doing this for us?" Her brows knitted, and her eyes seemed to glisten on purpose.

Your choice, if you could call it that, slipped from your fingers.

"I- yes. I know you are, love."

Her expression changes like someone turned off a light switch, and her smile stretched across sharp teeth.

Suddenly, she is a predator.

A vampire.

And now you truly understand what that means.

You felt her shift above you, and she leaned forward. She brushes her tongue against your lips, and you can't believe you still give in to her mouth. Her tongue slipped between your lips, and you would never deny her a moan at the taste of it. She inched closer, her lips on yours as grinded against you, feeling the flex of those smooth, cool thighs as she rolled her hips, coating you in arousal, pumping down on your strap as it plunged in and out of her.

This was exciting her.

Her hair brushed against your shoulders, feather light, and everything of hers that touched you set you on fire. She intruded you and encompassed you, her whimper chasing the bite of your teeth on her lips. Your bodies rocked, entangled and entwined together in your bed, and your mind began to empty.

Her kiss was effortlessly comforting, and you suddenly started to forget what you were afraid of. All you were thinking of now was how badly you wanted her to cum again. You couldn’t think about anything else, until you realised that you had started to forget… almost everything. The kiss was a slow erasure, a treacherous sleight of hand as you abandon everything. Everything that wasn't her.

You want to be with her always.

ALWAYS.

The thought of that word started to uproot you from the moment. Ripping you out like a weed.

But every time you refocused on Natasha, paid attention to her on top of you as she rode harder, pulling away from your kiss for a moment so you would surrender to the amber in her eyes, your conscience wiped clean. How could you feel afraid about something that felt so good? Could you feel fear for enjoying her moan when your tongue brushed against hers? When you swallowed her every inhale and her nails pressed into the skin on your shoulder, pink crescents blooming on you every time they dug in harder. She bounced on your strap harder now, shaking the bed beneath you as she muffled her moans into your mouth.

“That’s it, baby. Make me cum for you.”

ALWAYS.

“Yes, Y/N, fuck…”

You felt her fangs as they grazed against your tongue.

No. This can't be happening.

ALWAYS.

"Just let me in, baby."

You felt afraid.

ALWAYS.

"Let me in."

FEAR

ALWAYS.

"Yes… that's it."

Love.

“You’re mine.”

LOVE.

WANTING.

NATASHA.

Always.

Your mind blanked for a split second, emotions dulled like a blanket of Novocaine. Your fear vanished, traceless, never there and nowhere to be found again. But your lust for Natasha, and the deep love, ever-pervading and transfixing, was being wrenched to the front of your mind, and suddenly… You knew nothing else. All you knew was Natasha. Your emotions amplified stronger and sharper than you've ever felt them, their vague shapes now a well defined form, specific and tangible.

Love and lust and wanting and eternity was all you felt and all you wanted to feel.

Everything you felt, smelled, tasted was her, the redheaded siren who was whimpering at your every touch, who was gripping your arms so hard that they bruised as she approached her orgasm, her hair wild across her chest. You were acutely aware of this brutal overtaking, and yet, you couldn’t get enough of it.

Natasha dominated your mind, and every thought now was red.

She gasped then, cumming all over your cock, her wetness dripping down your thighs and drenching the bed below you. A wicked chuckle fluttered in her chest.

"Mmmm… my sweet, sweet thing," she whispered, and your smile, intoxicated and hazy, widened at her words.

You were too out of it to notice her fangs lengthen.

Didn't know they were unsheathing from where they hid behind her soft, deceiving lips.

And then she bit you.

You felt the puncture in your artery, cold teeth piercing into your skin. You felt the heat of your blood pour from you, felt her lap at it with her tongue.

It was flooding the sheets.

And still, she was all you could think about.

She moaned at the taste of you, whimpering, her noises rumbling her fangs as they pushed deeper. Her hips started to pump onto your strap once more, hunger escalating, and you felt her wetness coat your lower stomach. She rolled your hips against you, pressing downwards, pushing your cock deeper and deeper. You heard the bed crack under her force.

Her moans muffled into your neck, as she stifled the sound and drank.

And drank.

Your hands grabbed onto handfuls of her ass, and you pressed her harder onto you. The sheets beneath you were soaking through, crimson dampness smearing onto your skin. You knew Natasha would lick you clean.

You could feel yourself draining. Feeling your head get lighter and lighter. She pulled off your neck for a moment, staring into your eyes.

"It'll be alright, my love. I love you so much, you're doing so well. You just need to rest."

You nodded and she kissed your mouth so tenderly that you couldn't take it. Her fingers threaded into your hair, and you tried your best to focus on her, only barely registering the way that crimson covered her mouth. Your eyes felt impossibly heavy.

"Just let it overtake you, baby. Mommy will take such good care of you."

She licked your lips, kissing your jaw, her eyes intently focusing on yours. The way they sparked red.

Your eyes finally closed, the last thing you saw was Natasha kissing your lips as you faded.

…..

In the slow blooming light, your body felt different. But that didn't matter as much as when Nat got out of bed, and you watched her hips sway, as she crossed the room to pull heavy metal shutters low.

You remember the way sunlight burned, reddening your skin for a split second before the sun was extinguished behind the shutters and the curtains. You remember the way the white sheets beneath you were now crimson, blood soaked.

Natasha returned to your arms, and you enveloped her, kissing soft red hair. She tucked her head under your chin, and held you tightly, nuzzling into your chest. The smell of jasmine and bergamot mixed pleasantly with the metallic tang of blood in the air.

You remember being able to feel Nat's heartbeat slow down as she relaxed her body atop you. You wrapped your arms tighter around her and she moaned gently in contentment.

“Mine,” she whispered.

You kissed her forehead.

"Always."

don't look at me

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Birthday Homage (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: Here’s a little something in honour of Alexia’s birthday. I hope you guys like it.

4th February, the day you get to celebrate the life of your soul mate. If there is one person you are grateful for in this world, it is Alexia. From the day you met her you knew you were meant to have her in your life. Now 10 years later you thank the universe for that day. 

“Feliç Aniversari mi amor” you whisper into Alexia’s ear. 

The Catalonian sun had just started to peak through the blinds in your bedroom but the birthday girl showed no signs of waking up, she was way too comfy in your arms. 

“Alexia” you place a kiss to the soft spot behind her ear “it’s your birthday, time to wake up” 

A small groan let’s you know she is slowly waking up. Her hands move to squeeze yours, which are wrapped around her waist. 

“Bon día” she turns so that she is facing you. 

For a few seconds the two of you stay silent. It is something that happened in specific moments. You took the time to appreciate one another. 

“It’s my birthday” a small grin appears on Alexia’s face “and you have a game” the grin falters slightly. 

Keep reading

*crosses leg ummm gawd dayum*

Come party just with me

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: It's Saturday night and you're at a party with your friends. But maybe there's a better place where you can be. [3.898 words]

Warnings: smut (+18!), alcohol, milf, top!Reader, bottom!Wanda, strap on (r giving), oral (r giving), praise kink, ass slapping (r giving), hair pulling [let me know if there’s more]

To close the Halloween stories, a smut (because in the end we're all just horny, aren't we?) Also, this story is inspired by the song Mommy by Betta Lemme. Enjoy!

For this request || Masterlist

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It's Halloween. Honestly, you didn't care much for the date. It had its plus points, of course, but nothing to do with the meaning or the candy.

You liked the parties, being able to go out drinking with your friends. And mainly about how free people felt at this time of the year, allowing themselves to dress and do whatever they wanted.

Today, for example, you are at a party with your friends where you have not even arrived thirty minutes ago and you have already kissed six different people, people you had no idea who they were and that you would probably never find out.

Your gaze wanders intently around the party, searching for the next mouth to kiss (and hopefully other parts too) when you feel your cell phone vibrating inside your pocket. You pull it out with one hand, unlocking it afterwards. When you see the notification, you clench your jaw.

Hi. Wanna come over?

The simple message comes from the contact saved only with the number, no name whatsoever. But you know very well whose it is, this being one of the few numbers you have memorized.

Wanda Maximoff is a rather unstable part of your life.

You met the redhead a few months ago. Your aunt introduced you to her co-worker at an unpretentious Sunday lunch and you two got along pretty well right away.

Little did Natasha know, however, that this friendly approach concealed something more. Something instinctive and intense that neither you nor Wanda were able to contain on the first occasion you were left alone.

You had been meeting in secret ever since, the need that bordered on addiction for each other seeming more and more difficult to fulfill.

But it was all merely casual. Wanda was much older than you, had children, and a job that cost her almost her entire day. You, on the other hand, had just started college, in your second semester.

Wanda was not going to give up her obligations as a mother for a youthful romance. And you were not going to give up all the possibilities that early adulthood was capable of offering.

So you and Wanda carried on casually, with no obligations to each other, no plans for the future, and no exclusivity.

This, however, did not send away the possessive feeling you had for each other. It's not healthy, you both knew it very well, but it was uncontrollable, before you knew it, you were already being consumed by it.

Recently, you went to an ice cream parlor with a group of friends and, to your misfortune, you saw Wanda there, accompanied by a blond man whom you instantly hated.

You both noticed each other's presence in the establishment, but pretended not to know each other in order not to arouse suspicion.

Wanda felt your gaze on her constantly, your eyes glaring at the man accompanying her. The redhead then decided to tease you, brazenly flirting with her date and smiling every time she saw the effects of her actions on you.

Since that day you have avoided all her attempts to contact you, your blood boiling in your veins at the mere memory of the occasion. But even though you ignored messages and calls, the redhead still persisted. And even though you were angry, you couldn't help but relish her eagerness to see you.

But today you were in a good mood, so you decide to give her an answer, even if it wasn't the one she wanted to receive.

I can't, Wanda, I'm at a party.

You put the cell phone back in your pocket after that and walk over to the drinks table. You take some more of the dubiously colored punch for yourself, containing a grimace as the strong liquid comes in touch with your palate.

With your senses slightly affected by the amount of alcohol you have ingested that night, it takes a few seconds for you to process the new vibration of your cell phone.

You take the device out of your pocket once more, opening the messaging app, and a mischievous smile takes over your lips as soon as you see the picture.

On her bed, a carefully placed red lingerie stands out even more against the white of the sheets. You groan at the mere thought of Wanda wearing it, and the next message makes you weak in the knees.

Come party just with me.

With alcohol intoxicating your mind and your imagination wandering free and wild, you don't even bother to answer.

Shoving your cell phone back inside your pocket, you leave the party and take the first cab you can find, heading towards your longed-for destination.

-----

As soon as you reach Wanda's house and knock on the door, the redhead pulls you inside, capturing your lips with hers fervently.

"So needy." You tease with a giggle amidst the kisses, but Wanda doesn't inhibit herself, her long fingers unbuttoning your blouse as her mouth devours yours.

"I've been thinking about you all week." She confesses, moving her kisses down your neck. You bring your hands to her waist, squeezing the flesh there and making the redhead whimper by your ear.

"Oh yeah? What you've been thinking about, baby girl?" You ask, your tone of voice low as your fingers move up to her chin, guiding her to look at you again. An involuntary whimper escapes Wanda's lips at the name, and you smirk at the outcome.

The effect you have on her is clear, her body touching yours in every possible place and her eyes locked on yours pleadingly. Finally remembering your question, Wanda bites her lower lip, dragging your eyes to the action.

"About your hands." She replies in a whisper, holding your hands and bringing them to her ass. You give a squeeze there, pinning her body even tighter to yours, and Wanda moans, bringing her hands to your neck and stroking the back of it with her fingernails.

"About your lips, all over me." She continues, capturing your lower lip with her teeth and pulling you toward her. You lean forward, trying to kiss her, but the redhead is quick to deflect, bringing her face close to your ear.

"About me screaming your name with your head between my thighs." She whispers, nibbling on your earlobe, and you groan, your whole body shivering.

"Fuck, Wanda." You breathe out, holding her by the waist and reversing positions, pressing her harshly against the door, and Wanda moans in both pleasure and pain as her back slams against the hard wood.

Bringing your lips to her neck, you trail kisses and nibbles on the soft skin. Wanda sighs heavily, her hands firmly in your hair, encouraging you to continue, and pushing her hips down in search of your leg.

You decide to give her what she seeks, pressing your thigh against her center, and Wanda moans at the new contact, rocking her hips in search of friction.

Feeling the fabric of your jeans getting wet with her arousal, you feel lust coursing through your veins and you suck on a sensitive spot on her neck, the redhead sighing in response.

Wanda pulls your face up next, kissing you eagerly, and you bring your hands to her ass again to pull her up, holding her in your lap and pressing her against the door.

The redhead wraps her legs around your waist tightly, moaning against your lips as she feels the solid bump under your pants, indicating the clothed strap.

You walk away from the door then, your mouth never leaving hers as your feet lead you with familiarity to her bedroom.

Once there, you place her on the bed, her legs spreading for you as you stand. As you remove your blouse, which Wanda has unbuttoned, you take your time to admire the woman before you.

Wearing an almost transparent white robe, the redhead watches you with urgency, her eyes pleading with you to return to her as soon as possible. You can't wait to reveal what's underneath that garment.

With your blouse now dropped to the floor, you lie on top of Wanda, your knee meeting her center and making the redhead moan at the contact.

You kiss her next, your tongue exploring her mouth as if it had never been there before, and Wanda once again rolls her hips against your leg, desperately seeking to relieve the growing discomfort at the pit of her belly.

Wanda brings her hands to your back, pressing your skin down with her nails, and you shiver at the sensation, your lips descending to her neck.

Unexpectedly, Wanda holds the strap over your pants with her full hand. With the sudden movement in your center, you moan, and Wanda watches the action with a smirk. "What's this, baby? Is it for me or for some slut that was with you at that party?"

"What if it was? What you gonna do about it?" You tease with a smirk, relishing the obvious jealousy on every one of her features. Wanda, however, tries to disguise the feeling by putting an even wider smirk on her lips.

"I'm gonna remind you you'll never find anyone better than me." She replies, pushing you by the shoulders immediately afterwards and reversing positions, straddling you, and you gasp in surprise.

As Wanda brazenly rubs herself against your clothed strap, you bring your hands to her waist, assisting her in her movements while you admire her mesmerized.

The redhead then undoes the tie that held her robe closed in an agonizingly slow pace, and you watch her with anticipation.

When the item is removed and discarded on the bed, your breath gets caught in your throat at the sight of Wanda in the lingerie she had sent you the photo of earlier.

Red is her color, clearly, and the garment, despite covering almost nothing, highlights her body perfectly. You wouldn't be surprised if you were drooling right now and Wanda watches you devour her with your gaze with a proud smile on your lips.

"What is it, baby?" Wanda asks feigning innocence, swaying her hips against yours again, "do you like what you see?"

Instead of answering you sit up, bringing your hands to her back and laying her down on the bed afterwards, returning to your previous position.

"You look so fucking hot in it, Wanda, but I can't wait to rip it off of you." You say, your lips mere inches from her swollen ones, and the redhead's breath hitches with craving.

"Do it then." She encourages, and you don't think twice before kissing her fiercely, Wanda's mind spinning with the intensity.

As Wanda holds your face with both hands, keeping you as close as she can, you move your hand down the side of her body to her leg, pulling her against you next, and the redhead wraps it around your waist in response.

You move your kisses down Wanda's neck, and she brings her hands down to your shoulders, encouraging you to continue.

Your mouth soon reaches one of her breasts, and you lift one hand to the other, cupping it with your full hand while teasing the other with your lips. Wanda sighs heavily, arching her back and bringing her chest even closer to you.

You continue down your kisses then, Wanda's breathing becoming more erratic as your lips move closer to her core.

When you reach the bottom of the lingerie, you look up again, smirking at Wanda's expectant eyes. You then deposit a soft kiss on her covered clit, and hear the redhead sigh heavily in response, her hands instinctively finding your hair.

You reluctantly remove the item, thinking it a crime to take such a beautiful item from her. Revealing Wanda's glistening cunt, your mouth fills with water again, and Wanda bites her lip at your hungry gaze.

Wanda watches you intently as you remove your pants and underwear. The redhead's breathing hitches with the sight of the strap, her walls clenching against nothing in anticipation.

You return close to her next, placing yourself on top of her, your face mere inches from hers again.

Capturing her lips on yours once more, you feel Wanda run her hands down your back, pressing you down, and you smile at her impatience.

With the closeness and absence of clothing, Wanda feels the strap rubbing against her center, and the redhead moans in anticipation, pushing her hips down to increase the contact.

Deciding to give her what she wants, you bring your hand up to the strap, pressing it up her pussy. Her slick coats the tip of the strap as the redhead whimpers, squeezing your shoulders in response.

When you line up the strap with her entrance, Wanda holds her breath in anticipation. And when you thrust the toy all at once inside her, the redhead moans loudly, the sound echoing through the room.

"So ready for me," you tease, pushing the strap inside her with ease, "I guess you have been thinking about me after all." You add, delighting in the way Wanda barely processes your words, too overwhelmed by pleasure. She manages to nod though.

"Y-yes... Fuck, don't stop." She lets out in between moans, but she didn't even have to ask. You continue with the thrusts, the sight of Wanda so helpless already, and the other end of the toy buried inside you working you up just as you do to her.

After a moment, you straighten your posture, the strap going even deeper inside her, hitting the spot that drives her wild. Wanda moans loudly in response, her hands gripping the sheet tightly at the sides of her body, and you smirk at the result.

No matter how many girls you hooked up with in your life, none of them would ever come close to Wanda. The redhead had the perfect reactions, every move, every sound, every look branded in the back of your mind like a burning tattoo, preventing you from sleeping or functioning properly for the next few days.

And you knew she felt the same way about you, you wouldn't be here if she didn't. But then flashes of the other day at the ice cream parlor cross your mind and you clench your jaw. You knew the effect you had on her, but you wanted to hear her say it. You'd make her say it.

"Tell me, princess," you start, and you look at her with an intensity so fiery that Wanda's whole body seems to catch fire, "does your friend fuck you like I do? Does anyone make you feel this good?"

Her walls clench against the toy vigorously. You had nothing serious, Wanda knew that very well. But there was something about your possessiveness that drove her crazy. She wanted to be yours, even if she wasn't.

"N-no... Only you-" the messy response as a result of the redhead's state of ecstasy is interrupted when you push the strap hard, hitting that spot inside her that makes her see stars. The redhead moans loudly, arching her back instinctively, "fuck, Y/n, right there... Don't stop."

She is close, you can feel it not only by her walls throbbing ever more fervently against the strap-on, but also by her expressions. When Wanda closes her eyes, surrendering to the pleasure, you smirk.

"Oh no," you rebuke, holding Wanda's face in your hand, and the redhead looks at you in confusion, "open your eyes, pretty girl, I want you to remember who's the face that makes you fall apart."

That's more than enough to send her over the edge, and Wanda falls apart beneath you, her cries louder and louder. You reach your high soon after, and you both moan together through your orgasms.

You lean down again, capturing the redhead's lips in a sloppy kiss. Wanda struggles to respond, but the numbness of her entire body and her completely ragged breathing make the action impossible.

Bringing your hand down, you pull the strap from her slowly, and smirk against her lips at the way she trembles intensely.

You move your kisses down her neck once more. Wanda lazily takes note of your kisses moving down her body, leaving marks in places you knew she would be able to hide. But just the thought of her remembering this night when she saw them was enough to make your core throb.

Making your way between her legs, you deposit soft kisses along her inner thighs. Wanda, finally realizing what is happening, frowns. "What-"

"I gotta taste you," you promptly interrupt, and before she can object, you stick your tongue out, giving her a long lick all over her pussy. Wanda sighs heavily, the air coming out shaky. You hum at her taste, raising your eyes to her again, "so good. Always so wet for me, baby."

The redhead's breath hitches with the praise, and you smile at the reaction. You run your tongue along her folds, savoring the taste of her arousal and the way her muscles respond to each new touch.

Being honest, Wanda wasn't ready for another one, not having had time to fully recover from her previous orgasm. But you explore her so eagerly, your lips and teeth providing her with a painful pleasure she never wanted to miss... She would never be able to say no to you.

You start with slow movements, teasing her clit just enough to make her want more. Soon you feel Wanda jerking her hips down, looking for less shallow strokes, and you smirk before providing her exactly what she wants.

As your movements become faster and more intense, the redhead feels her whole body break into increasingly powerful spasms, the discomfort in the pit of her stomach becoming more and more unbearable.

Wanda brings her hands to your hair then, guiding your head exactly where she wants it to be, and you don't object, giving her exactly what she wants.

Soon enough her legs close against your head, her inner thighs muffling the loud, desperate moans that escape the redhead's mouth. Wanda was sure she would be hoarse the next morning, but she didn't care. With all the heavenly sensations you provide her, it was more than worth it.

When she reaches her limit and the stimulation in her clit becomes too much, Wanda begins to push your head back with what little dexterity she has left. But you don't stop, her taste and smell overwhelming you in the best possible way.

"S-stop, Y/n/n, I can't anymore." She pleads breathlessly, a tired giggle escaping her lips, and with one last lick you pull away from her center, climbing your way up to her again.

As soon as your face is close enough, Wanda pulls you into a sloppy, eager kiss. The redhead moans as the taste of your mouth mingles with her own, and you feel a chill in your stomach that only she can provide.

You continue like this for a while, the kiss becoming more and more intense and desperate as the minutes tick by.

Eventually, the tip of the strap brushes against Wanda's pussy, lining up against her entrance, and the redhead's breath hitches, her hips immediately jerking downward in an attempt to increase the contact. With the movement, the toy enters into her ever so slightly, but she moans lustily against your lips.

"I thought you couldn't do it anymore." You tease, a smirk playing on your lips that only increases when Wanda smiles wickedly at you. "Maybe we should wait a bit? Or just stop for now."

You knew you couldn't stop now, your addiction to the redhead was too intense to be cured so quickly. The suggestion was merely an attempt to get a reaction out of her, and, boy, you did.

Wrapping her legs around your waist tightly, Wanda thrusts her body forward, reversing positions to straddle you.

With the change of stances, the strap-on is thrusted inside the redhead at once, eliciting a throaty moan from her. You watch the scene in awe, unable to do anything but admire the woman on top of you.

"We only stop when I say so." She warns, moving her hips as her eyes remain locked on yours in defiance. A hoarse chuckle escapes your lips at her speech and you sit up, bringing your hand to the back of her neck.

Wanda's eyes flutter shut at the feeling, her hips never stopping rocking against the strap. In one sudden movement you grip her hair tightly, forcing her to look at you, and a moan of both pleasure and pain escapes the redhead's lips as she obeys.

"You're not in charge here, princess." You remind her, your lips brushing against hers as your low tone of voice sends shivers throughout Wanda's body.

"But I enjoy fucking you too much, I won't object." You speak next, stroking her jawline. But Wanda doesn't move, she wouldn't dare. You smirk at the effect you have on her.

"Go on, keep riding me." You demand, your hand meeting the soft skin of her ass in a firm slap. A surprised gasp escapes Wanda's lips, her breathing visibly uneven.

You bring one hand to the back of Wanda's neck, pulling her into a hot kiss, while the other massages her ass to soothe the sting of the slap.

That interaction alone made lust run fervently in Wanda's blood. She loved the way you established dominance. But more than that, she loved it when you claimed it.

Wanda's walls clenched vigorously against the toy at the mere thought of you putting her in her place.

But that would have to wait. She could provoke you at another time. Now all she could think about was you fucking her hard, guiding her through her third orgasm of that night.

Wanda keeps riding her high, the swaying of her hips becoming increasingly uncoordinated and desperate.

You lie down on the bed again, bringing your hands to her waist and guiding her movements.

A series of loud moans escape Wanda's lips with the exponential increase in pleasure, her hands instinctively finding the sides of your stomach, her nails digging into your skin desperately.

You project your hips upward next and a loud cry escapes Wanda's lips, her back arching back immediately.

The sounds and the scene, again in conjunction with the strap against your center, guide you over your limit, you seeing stars each time Wanda pushes her hips down again.

You can tell that she is close too, not just being able to see it, but to feel it as well. As her moans become louder and more desperate, you smirk.

"Why don't you let your neighbors know who's the only person who can drive you to the edge like this?" You ask, your hands pulling her waist down faster and faster, and Wanda smiles, biting her lower lip at the idea. "Cum for me, baby."

You didn't even have to ask. The next moment Wanda reaches her high, her nails nearly ripping your skin as she moans your name out loud, the sound making your whole body shiver.

As Wanda collapses exhausted on top of you, you watch her in ecstasy. You wouldn't admit it, but being alone with her was undoubtedly better than any party you could ever go to.

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