HOLY SHI- 😁👀😲😌😍

🤭😏

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

Nice blog 💕

Thank you darling

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.

So true

We all needed this 😂🤭

This is both madness and beauty combined into one and I fuckin love it so much.

Left Behind - Final Chapter - As the World Cave In

Gif was made by @abimess

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

Series Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader || platonic bucky barnes x reader, mentor!natastha romanoff and mentor!steve rogers, bruce banner x reader (friendship), pietro maximoff x reader (friendship).

Words: 5.958 K

A/N> This series finally comes to an end. My only warning for this chapter is that I was on crack if you hate it you can pretend the previous one is the real ending.

All Works Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Series Masterlist

//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-//

Chapter 11 - As The World Cave In

Wake up.

Murmuring softly, you turn your body in bed.

"Baby, wake up, we're going to be late." You hear the whisper, but all you do is bury your face deeper into the pillow, muttering under your breath. "Come on baby, it's your brother's birthday."

"Five minutes." You ask, your voice muffled against the mattress. Your wife laughs, her hand reaching your waist and her fingers running up your back.

You smile when you feel the caress, even if you are asleep, your body responds to touches with light shivers. And she knows it.

"Wake up babe." She asks again, this time moving closer to place several kisses against your face, but you don't give in. When her hands go down to your waist, and she starts tickling you, you laugh trying to block her hands.

You move you around the bed quickly, standing on top and sitting on her belly, your hands pin her wrists to both sides of her head.

Wanda smiles with her cheeks reddened.

"That wasn't fair." You warn with false annoyance, and your wife just stares at you with bright eyes, briefly resisting the position before relaxing completely.

"But it woke you up." She teases, making you roll your eyes in amusement.

"Actually I'm still sleeping." You joke with a mischievous smile, approaching your face and noticing her holding her breath in anticipation. You dodge your way to kiss her cheek, and Wanda grumbles under her breath. Your kisses run down her jaw, too chaste and fast in her opinion. When you kiss the skin of her collarbone, she sighs and you smile, pulling away to look at her. "Sorry, weren't you the one who said we were going to be late?" You tease and Wanda giggles before lifting her face towards your, pressing your lips together.

You smile against her lips, there was no point in resisting it.

You two share a soft kiss, and you melt. She takes advantage of the loosened grip on her wrists to get on top in a quick move, fitting against your legs and you sigh in surprise at the sudden movement, but you don't have time to react because she's kissing you again, with greater intensity this time.

When your body starts to heat up, Wanda's mouth on your neck, you try to push the wave of lust and mutter between your unbalanced breathing "Wanda, the kids..." in a warning tone, but Wanda smiles against your skin , her face rising to the level of your ear.

"We better be quiet then." Her hot, wet whisper makes your body shiver and you sigh, surrendering.

But suddenly you hesitate.

Something is wrong.

Wanda knows exactly where to touch you. As if you've already done this a thousand times, and she knew it by heart. Something in the back of your mind is screaming wondering how could she know that if you only did it once? There’s a ghost of a memory. A flash of giggles and experimental touches, a shy Wanda learning where to touch, asking between her breath where would you like her to kiss, how she was your first.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

But the memory and the hesitation vanishes the next second, and you're getting lost in her lips and her touch, soft moans escaping your mouth as you push the doubt away.

When you two reach your highness, you against her fingertips and her against your tight, she whimper your name against your ear, your hands entwined on hers in the sheets.

And as you two try to normalize your breathing, you hear noises in the kitchen, and you exchange giggles.

"Someone else is awake." She mumbles against your cheek, moving her face away next. She kisses your mouth before pulling away completely. "I'll make us breakfast. Don't go back to sleep."

You just chuckle softly, missing her warmth as you stay in bed.

When Wanda leaves the room, you sigh before sitting up in bed, stretching.

Your gaze wanders around the room.

Home.

There are pictures on the walls, and on the shelves. Photographs of a lifetime. A shiver runs through your body. You sigh lightly, pushing away the discomfort. It's just the cold. Sokovia is cold in the fall.

You walk out of the room with lazy steps, and when you reach the kitchen, someone is jumping on you.

“Good morning, mommy!” Greets the little four-year-old boy, smiling, two teeth missing in the front. You smile as you pick him up.

"Good morning, Billy." You say as you carry him towards the table. Wanda looks at you from the counter, gives you a wink before turning her attention back to the pancakes she has started to make. "Did you sleep well, sweetheart?"

"Yes, I dreamed about Tommy. We were astronauts!" He tells with a smile, making you let out an understatement noise as you sit down. You pull away only to kiss the other child sitting at the table on the cheek, who smiles before turning back to the video game.

"Tommy, what did I say about games at the table?" You say in a warning tone, and the boy sighs before turning off the phone.

"Sorry, Mom." He asks while putting it away. You mess his hair before walking to the kitchen counter.

When you turn around however, you stop. You can see, through the kitchen door, a man sitting on the porch with his back to you.

"What is the problem, sweetheart?" Wanda asks and you look at her before looking back at the door.

"There's someone out there."

"Maybe it's the milkman, he's late." She says casually, serving the pancakes on a plate.

You feel weird. There is a little pressure behind your eyes. You look at your family for a second.

"I'll be right back." You let them know before walking to the door. When you touch the doorknob, Wanda's hand is on your forearm, and you blink in surprise. How did she move so fast?

"I'm just going outside, sweetheart." You say with a smile. There's something in Wanda's eyes that makes you consider not leaving. She doesn't smile back.

"You're not coming back, are you?" she asks and you frown, watching the tears form in her eyes.

"What?"

But the moment ends at the same speed as it begins. She gives a short laugh, wiping away her tears and the same soft energy comes back to her.

"Bring the milk and the newspaper please, love." She says before moving away, going back to the counter and grabbing the pancakes. She sits down at the table and serves the children next, as if nothing has happened.

You blink in confusion and look at them one last time before opening the door and walking out.

The man doesn't turn around and you clear your throat.

"Sorry, can I help with something?"

The man turns his face to you. You never met him.

"Good morning, Y/N." He says politely. "Quite a place you set up here."

“Sorry?”

“I admit I expected Vormir, but this is good too.”

You frown in confusion, but then cross your arms.

"Look, sir, I think it is best if you leave."

He turns his head front, looking at the landscape. You're ready to tell him to leave again when he gets up, and you take a defensive step back.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" He asks as he looks at you again.

"I don't know you. And I think you should go."

"Can you take a walk?" He asks with a mixture of curiosity and impressionism. "How far are you able to go?"

"Please, sir, leave."

"Honey?" Wanda asks from the door, and you startle, turning to look at her. "Who are you talking to?"

You notice her confused and curious look as she looks around. You frown.

“I’m…”

“She won't talk to me, miss." The man calmly warns. “But I admit that even this is almost completely faithful.”

"What?"

"Almost." He comments with a smile. "If I'm not mistaken, Miss Maximoff has brown hair."

Only now do you become aware of the fact that Wanda at the door has long red hair.

Wake up. Wake up.

You sigh lightly, lifting your hands to your wife's shoulders.

"Honey, come back inside, alright?" You ask without understanding because you feel despair growing in your chest. "I'll be going for a walk"

"Don't be long, or we'll be late for your brother's party." She says tenderly. "You know your dad hates it when you're late for things."

Wanda kisses your cheek before stepping back inside.

Something is wrong, but you don't know what it is.

"You're coming with me, then?" The man asks as soon as you turn to him again.

"Who are you? What do you want here?" you ask impatiently and frightened.

"I came for you, of course." He clarifies. "And my name is Yao."

“Well, mister Yao.” You starts. “I’m not going anywhere with you because I don’t know you and I think you should leave my property.”

"Oh yes, we haven't met yet." He comments thoughtfully. “But don’t worry, we will soon enough.”

"Please leave."

“Don’t worry, we got time.” He says as he turns his back to you again, leaving the porch and stepping in the grass. “Let’s start with the beginning.”

He's walking away, and you want to go back inside, but something is begging you to follow him, so that's what you do.

Yao takes a deep breath before speaking again, his gaze on the landscape.

"You were very hard to find, miss." He counts. "I was about to give up."

"Why were you looking for me?"

"Because of what you did before you disappeared." He responds by looking at you for a moment before he stops walking. You fold your arms and stare at the landscape too. Kilometers and kilometers of plantations and mountains. A funny thought occurs to you and you giggle, which catches the eye of man, who raises his eyebrow in curiosity.

You roll your eyes slightly.

"It's just that I thought something ironic." You comment and he turns to face you. "Wanda said we are going to visit my brother, but there is no road. I just thought it would be difficult to drive on the grass."

Yao has a small smile at the corner of his lips, and you swallow hard, realizing that this really was weird.

And then you look around.

Your home is a cabin in the middle of the mountains. No road, no car, no nearby civilization. With nothing visible but grass and rocks. Even if you try to squint your eyes, everything gets a little blurry further away. The shivers you felt earlier were back.

"Where am I?" You ask confused. Yao turns the body towards you.

"I need you to stay calm."

"No, I'm serious." You counter starting to despair. "Where am I? Why there’s no road? Or Car? How are we leaving without a car?”

"Please miss.”

Then you understand.

“I’m not going anywhere am I?”

Yao sighs, and shakes his head in denial. You step back.

"You never do." He counts. "I think the limit is the front-yard."

"What the hell are you talking about?" You rage with tears in your eyes. "Where am I?"

"Well this is more complicated." He retorts seriously, but his eyes are tender. "Your physical body is on a stretcher in the Infirmary of Avengers's Compound, in New York City, in the year of 2015."

"I-I'm..."

Yao steps forward, raising his hands to your chest height as if trying to calm you down.

"But your spirit form, what you are right now, is in between." He says it as if the words make any sense to you.

"I don't…I don't understand."

"It will be easier if you remember how you got here." Yao says with a pleading expression. You shake your head slightly. "Try. Try to think where you were before you woke up this morning."

You look at him in confusion.

Suddenly, you remember.

Your conscience stumbling in nothingness, trying to grab onto something. You thought someone was calling you, that you should come back. But come back to where?

Home. You thought. Home was where you should be. Home was where the soft female whisper was telling you to go.

And so everything was forming around you and when your knees gave up, you felt in a bed.

You gasped in surprise, starting to freak out.

"Where... Where am I?" You whimpered looking around. None of this makes sense. "I just…I just remember this... emptiness. I was so sad. Sad and weak."

"Why were you sad?"

"I..." You tried. Yao waited anxiously and you gasped. "Pietro died."

You put your hand on your chest, trying to normalize your breathing as all your memories came back at once. Yao just looked at you.

“He died!” You cried. “He died in my arms. I… tried to save him. I did. What happened to him? Please, sir, tell me I saved him.”

You begged between sobs, Yao sighed.

"You did." His words brought an immediate rush of relief, but he didn't look happy. "That's why I'm here."

You took a deep breath, trying to stop crying and waiting for Yao to explain.

"Bringing someone back to life causes instability in the timeline." He says turning to you. "And it's my job to protect and ensure that doesn't happen."

"Are you here to punish me then?" You ask unsure. "I'll pay what you need, just let Pietro live."

Yao raises his eyebrow, impressed.

“I’m not.” He says. "I'm here to study you actually."

"Study me... what?" You ask confused.

"The variant you created in the timeline disappeared the next minute after it appeared." He says next. "I went to the Avengers right away when I noticed the change, but by the time I got there, there was nothing else to fix. Pietro was alive, and you were in a coma. And the timeline is intact."

"Am I in a coma?" You ask in surprise but Yao ignores you and continues talking.

"Pietro Maximoff was meant to die in the battle of Sokovia, for you later to die in Wakanda." He counts and you look at him with wide eyes in confusion and indignation. "All for Wanda Maximoff to become the scarlet witch."

You stare at Yao for a moment before letting out a humorless laugh, wiping away your tears.

"Are you for real, right now?"

"I am." He insists. "My job is to maintain the stability of our reality's timeline. And Wanda's destiny is..."

"Lose her brother?" You interrupt with indignation. "Or even lose me? What the hell are you talking about?"

The man sighs deeply and crosses his arms.

"Miss Maximoff reaches the fullest of her powers with your death." He continues seriously and you sigh in disbelief. "She becomes able to manipulate chaos magic and alter reality to build a life with you..."

You shake your head, turning away as you massage your temples with your fingers.

"You're fucking with me, is that it?" You accuse angrily. "None of this makes any sense. Telling me Wanda is destined to lose the people she loves to become a witch? Where did that come from? Why don't you tell me where I am?"

"I already told you, you're in between." He repeats and you're ready to interrupt angrily, but he continues quickly. "The celestial dimension of nothingness, Miss Y/N."

You frown and he looks around before continuing.

"I thought you would be in Vormir." Yao continues. "The realm of death at the center of celestial existence, that is. But no. I also looked for you in Valhalla, with no success."

"I died." You whisper in shock, looking away at the floor. Yao sighs lightly.

"You should have, but no."

You raise your eyebrows and look at him quickly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"In my universe, you die." He says. "You die when the mad titan, Thanos, attacks Wakanda. And Wanda Maximoff witnessed."

"This is ridiculous."

Yao shakes his head slightly.

"You die saving sergeant James Barnes from a fatal blow." He continues. "Which is useless by the way, since the titan snaps his fingers and James is one of the people who disappears."

All you can do is stare at Yao like he's insane, and seeing your expression, he takes a deep breath and goes back to talking.

"Wait, what?" You interrupt when you see the worry in the old man's eyes. "Wanda, is she...?"

"Destroying worlds in blind rage?" He completes making you gasp in surprise, but Yao doesn't look angry, just tired. "All she knows is pain, Miss Y/L/N. So pain is all she causes."

"That’s not Wanda. She 's not cruel." You retort. "She's sweet and funny and good."

"She used to be like that, I'm sure." He tenderly nods. "But that person no longer exists. Some of that kindness has gone with her brother, and the rest has been buried with you."

You swallowed hard, falling silent and trying to imagine a Wanda who lost Pietro. Who lost you.

"I don't believe you." You declare then, ignoring the tears in your eyes. "She wouldn't."

Yao just nods at something behind you. You frown as you follow his gaze, noticing that your kids are playing on the porch, oblivious to the conversation you're having.

"I don't understand." You tell Yao. "My children..."

"Yours?"

And then you understand. And you let's a short incredulously laugh.

"They’re her children." You say. "Please don't say she lost them too."

"She lost everything."

"Why?" You plead but Yao just shrugs slightly, looking just as upset as you do.

"Life isn't fair, for any of us."

"This is absurd." You retort indignantly. "And how do you know all this? Why didn't you stop it?"

"We can't change our destinies, Miss Y/N..."

"Bullshit!" You interrupt, annoyed. "Think I'm going to watch Wanda lose everyone? I may have no idea where I am, but rest assured I'll do my best to make sure she's never alone like this, ever!"

Yao looks at you impressed.

"I knew you were different."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I pass some sick moral test?" You retort mockingly and Yao gives a short laugh.

"In a way, yes." He says. "I've been pretty busy the last few months, you know, a war between realities caused by the disproportionate use of chaos magic in my world. And only your universe wasn't in dimensional warfare."

You looked at him in confusion, but Yao continued to talk as if all those strange words made a lot of sense to you.

"Miss Maximoff will not cooperate with me, we will face each other and I will die." He declares with a certain nostalgia and you widen your eyes. "But that doesn't have to be the fate of all universes."

"I'm really not following."

"You're a life keeper." He tells you. "Or should I say, a guardian of Life?"

"Am I what now?"

"A being capable of forging, creating, giving and even taking life as they please."

You look at him stunned, shocked about his confession. Yao chuckles lightly, waving to the land with his hands.

"Don't you see it?" He asked. "You made this. You made here."

"But how?" You wonder, ignoring the way your eyes were tearing.

"You unlock a great potential of your magic after emotional distress." He answered. "Which is highly unrecommended, I must tell."

"No, sir." You correct yourself. "I meant, how did I do all this? Why, even? Is this supposed to be a heaven or something?"

"Well, that I'm not exactly sure." He says as he assumes a thoughtful posture. "You see, you push your magic far from the limit back there. Giving life to Pietro again cost your own, but since you cannot die, your consciousness just moved away."

"I beg your pardon?" You interrupt with shock. "What do you mean I cannot die?"

"Oh, yes." He says with a smile. "It’s because of the nature of your powers, miss. Guardians of Life cannot die because they are life itself, forming in eternity. It’s pure order magic."

"Okay, this is too much." You say as you move to sit down on the porch.

Yao signs and takes a seat next to you.

"I know it is." He says. "I remember when I learned all about magic and the universe and the infinite. I thought none of it was real or made any sense."

You just give a short laugh, moving your hands to your hair in a nervous tic.

As you try to calm your thoughts, Yao waits. You two are silent for several minutes before he speaks again.

"I came here for you." He says. "And I assure I have the best of intentions.”

You frown in disbelief as you look up to him.

“I don’t trust you, sir.” You say. “But I get a feeling you have things to tell me, so please, be my guest.”

Yao smiles before he continues.

“After what you did there, I needed to be sure you weren't someone trying to destroy the equilibrium of the universe. And turns out that you're not. It turns out you're one of the people meant to save it."

"I'm not following it…"

"The guardians of life? It is written that they are the ones destined to fulfill the emptiness with life." He explains. "They are not meant to end wars or start them, like most of the other prophecies. No. They bring life to the places that were either gone, or were never born yet."

"That 's insanity."

"Yes, it is." Yao agrees with a smile. "Just like bringing your dead friend back to life with a gold wave of healing energy."

You grumble softly, burying your face in your hands for a moment.

"But your destiny starts before that." He continues. "Before this greatness, your existence is enough to prevent the worst." He smiles as he takes a pause. “You’re the only thing keeping the Scarlet Witch from destroying the multiverse.”

You look at him in surprise, but he just continues to explain.

“Your powers will develop to the point where you become a being capable of manipulating order magic. That is, the opposite of Wanda's magic. Some say that while one brings death and destruction, the other brings life and prosperity." He tells you. "That’s why you're the only one who can stand up to her.”

"I wouldn't."

He blinks in surprise.

"Don't say what you don't know."

"I mean it." You insist. "I wouldn't fight Wanda."

"You've already fought her, miss." He says and you move back. "You just don't know that yet."

"You are lying."

Yao looks at you for a moment shaking his head slightly.

"There's no point in arguing about it now, you're just a girl."

"Don't patronize me!"

He gives a short smile.

"I'm not." He says. "You just aren't yet."

"What does that mean?"

He checks his watch, sighing.

"There is no time." He says. "If you don't go back, Wanda becomes the scarlet witch through grief and pain. Even with Pietro, she creates the hex through chaos magic. You need to go back. You need to stop her from causing this imbalance in reality and stopping the universe from falling into ruin."

"I don't believe you, Yao." You retort. "She is not evil.”

"I came here to help you, because I know you don’t want this for her too." He insisted. "You're a variant of the multiverse. You die in millions of them, but the one you survive in is the only one where Wanda doesn't become a villain. So I need you to come back."

"Back where?"

"Your body." He says. "Your mind. And more importantly, get back to her.”

You blink in confusion, and look back.

"Wanda is already here."

Yao swallows hard, and shakes his head slightly.

"This is a fantasy, Miss Y/L/N." He says. You cross your arms, standing up and moving away for him. He sighs as he stands too. "Honestly, the stubbornness of seeing the truth is something you two seem to share."

"I died, mister." You retort. "I saved Pietro, and now I'm dead. I'm at peace here."

"You are not dead." He counters. "Can't you see it? Can't you hear her crying beside your bed?"

Your mind is a mess. You tighten your fingers around your forehead with your eyes closed before sighing.

"None of this makes sense. All this stuff about universes and reality, and Wanda being a villain. I need you to leave. I need silence!”

Everything went quiet. You open your eyes to see that not only the wind noise, but every sound was gone. You gasp, but Yao just stands there while looking around impressed.

“How…?”

You start out in a sigh, also moving to look around. Nothing has changed in the landscape, but there is no sound. You look at Yao with despair.

"Impressive skill set I must say." He says. "But I've never seen anyone use order magic for personal use before."

"Order...what?"

Yao checks his watch on his wrist before speaking.

"I'm running out of time Y/N, forgive me." He says. "I need you to make your choice soon."

"I don't know what I'm choosing."

"It's very simple actually." He starts with a tender smile. ‘

"You go back to your body and fulfill your destiny. Or continue in this celestial lie for the next what, five years? Until Wanda creates the hex in your world and becomes the scarlet witch. When she does, she will use the darkhold. And she won't be happy to find you resting while she was alone."

You frown.

"Is there any version of me that stayed?"

"Yes." He replied simply.

"And Wanda?"

"She never forgave you for leaving her behind"

You swallowed the urge to cry.

"Is there a reality where we are enemies?" You force yourself to ask and Yao can see the pain in your eyes so he just nods in agreement. You let a few tears flow, but quickly wipe them away. "What do I have to do to avoid it?"

"Love her."

You let out an ironic laugh.

"I already do." You say. "Or did the heaven I build with her give you a different impression?”

Your joke makes him laugh.

“Okay, smarty pants.” Yao retorts and you manage a short giggle beyond the tears. “I need you to make a choice now, i can stay here for any longer.”

You take a pause, sighing softly. Where you are is really beautiful. The landscape looks like a living dream.

“Can I say goodbye to them?” You ask as you look back to your house. Yao checks his watch again before nodding to you as he puts his hands on his pockets.

You gave him a weak smile before turning towards the porch again, walking home.

Billy and Tommy look away from their toys to you as soon as you reach them. You realize how strange that was. You had no memory of a life with them, but you knew they were yours, that they were your family, your baby boys. Everything was a bit numb in your brain, like a distance dream you couldn't really focus on.

“Mommy, are we leaving for uncle’s house now?” Tommy asked as you bent down to mess his hair. You smile at him.

“Yes, sweetheart.” You told. “I’m just gonna talk to mommy first, okay?”

“Alright, mommy.” He agreed as he turned his attention back to the wood horse he was playing with. You took one last look at him and Billy before going back inside.

You hold your breath as you see Wanda, moving around as she is looking for the things you two were supposed to take for the party.

“Honey, I’ll be outside in a minute.” She warns as she looks around. “I just gotta find our keys.”

You bite your lip to avoid saying that there’s no car. You don’t mean to scare her. So you just lay against the wall as you cross your arms.

You realize that you know she will find the key in the last kitchen cabinet drawer, but when you leave the house, you’re back in bed. You wonder how many times you revived this.

“Wanda?” You call her with hesitation, and she stops moving around to look at you with a worried expression due to the cracking in your voice.

You just look at her. Memorizing her image. Soft eyes, mature expression. She’s different from the Wanda you know. She’s older, maybe a couple of years, you can tell for the soft marks on her face. The hair is different too as you noted before. Red is a good choice for her.

“I love you.” You whisper with a sad smile. Wanda frowns as she comes closer, and you sigh when she touches the sides of your face with both of her hands.

“Darling, I love you too.” She confessed. “But what’s wrong?”

You wonder how much of this is real. If this world, this fantasy, will fade away once you leave. Or if whatever this is, will always be a prison for them. Both options seem unfair.

“It’s nothing, my love.” You lie as you place your hands on hers, your thumbs caressing her skin as you look at her beautiful emerald eyes, shining with confusion.

You remember Yao’s words. About fighting her.

“You know I would never hurt you, right, Wanda?” You say and she gives you a shy smile.

“I do.”

“Would you ever hurt me?”

“I already have.” She answers with a guilty smile and you frown slightly.

“If you mean Sokovia, I’ve forgiven you for…”

“No.” She interrupts as she swallows hard, her gaze moving away. “I kept you here.”

You frown in confusion. Wanda waits until you realize what she's saying. When you do, you take her hands off your face.

“You are her.” You whisper, putting the pieces together. Wanda takes a deep breath. You move away to the kitchen, looking back to the door for a second, seeing tha Yao is checking his watch. “But how?”

“I lost you once.” She says but she doesn't take a step further. “I couldn’t lose you again.”

“Am I not real?”

“Of course you are!” Wanda exclaims almost desperately. "You are the only real thing I have here. I…I couldn't bring you back. It didn't work because of your magic. So I had to look for you in another reality."

You run your hands over your face for a moment.

"Why this version of me?" You ask.

"Because you saved my brother." She responds with a sigh. "When you did that, I used the timeline variant to keep you to myself."

You widen your eyes.

"How long?"

"Not enough."

You give a short laugh, which turns into a sob halfway through, and you notice that Wanda also has tears in her eyes.

"What happened to you, my love?" You ask. "My Wanda doesn't hurt or kidnap people."

"Maybe you don't know her well enough." She snaps and you bite the inside of your cheek, letting the tears flow. She sighs, crossing her arms. "How did you wake up?"

"A traveler." You answered. "He's out there, can't you see him?"

She looks at the door immediately with a frown and then back to you.

"No." She says. "He must be projecting his aura through his physical body."

"How are you doing this, dear?" You ask. "He told me I'm in New York."

Wanda sighs, leaning forward to lean on the counter beside her.

"I looked for you in the time-space of the multiverse." She explains. "I found your consciousness wandering in the void. Our magic did the rest."

"This is insane." You mumble. "I remember the emptiness. I don't remember seeing you before waking up."

"I'm always with you." She declares and then gives a humorless laugh. "Or I used to be."

"The traveler told me I made this place."

"You did." She clarifies. "With my help. As soon as my magic came into contact with yours everything got mixed up. This place appeared, my boys were back, you were back. I couldn’t let go."

"Yao said your world is at war." You continue, Wanda tenses but then sighs.

"It is."

"And you are causing it."

"I am."

"Why?"

Wanda looks at you with a sad smile.

"I'm tired of losing everything."

You stare at her for a moment before looking back into the room.

"Are you going to let me leave?"

"I can't keep you."

You reach for her hand on the counter, interlacing your hands together and placing them on her thigh as you turn your face to face her.

"I'm sorry my love." You whisper and watch the thick tears run down her face. "I feel like there's nothing I can say to stop you from fighting."

She shakes her head slightly.

"This is who I am now." She whispers back. "You can only help your Wanda."

You sigh, resting your forehead against hers.

"There is no version of me that would hate you, Wanda. I will always forgive you, and understand you." You say. "And most importantly, I will always love you."

Wanda sobs, breaking the distance.

She tastes different. It's almost imperceptible, but now that you've got your memories back, you know.

You break the kiss, using your free hand to wipe the tears from her face.

"Goodbye, Wanda."

"Don't leave her side." She asked last, her hand squeezing yours before letting go.

You smile and turn to leave.

As you walk outside, the environment starts to blur around you, like a ghostly glow. You imagine it's your magic separating from hers.

When you step outside, you are in emptiness again. Everything is white around you, and Yao is waiting with his arms crossed.

"Are you ready to wake up?" he asks, looking nervous.

"Yeah." You say. "You'll be okay?"

He hesitates with a nervous laugh. "No, Miss Y/L/N. She's almost reaching me. This will be our last fight."

You swallowed dry. The Wanda of his world was no longer just Wanda. She was the scarlet witch now. Again having lost her family and searching for her revenge.

You then realize that if Yao is dying, someone is going to have to face this Wanda.

"It's going to be me, isn't it?" You ask, feeling an overwhelming urge to cry. "That's why you set me free. You don't beat her. And she won't stop. So you found someone who could."

He looked at his watch again.

"Maybe" He says. "Or maybe your Wanda will fight her. Or maybe the little conversation in the kitchen will be enough to make her stop."

You sigh.

“It won’t.” You say. "Just…take me back please."

He smiles.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, friend."

“Likewise, Yao.”

When it becomes difficult to keep your eyes open again, you surrender to darkness.

But it's alright. Because there is warmness in your chest. There is someone sleeping on top of you. The smell of shampoo is familiar. You don't need to open your eyes to know that Wanda fell asleep while waiting for you to wake up.

Before waking up, before hugging her and before assuring her and all the avengers that you were okay and that they had nothing to worry about, you said goodbye to the memories you had with Yao and Wanda from the other reality, realizing that they were disappearing as you returned to your body.

You didn't need those memories. You don't need to know the future, because loving Wanda will be enough.

//-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-////-//-////-//-//

Tag List> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @mjaudrey

Ummm... I have questions that needs to be answered. This was beautifully written. I'm heartbroken and now I'm left questioning everything. I need help..... Also is Natasha going to attack us since she's in the 'familiar' apartment or is she going to listen to us.... Furthermore wtf I- I wonder what's going to happen now. Yelena is off trying to kill Clint so how will it be impacted. How is it going to work out.

What If...? (Part Two)

Thanks @rebeliz777 for asking me to write part two, dream come true to work with one of my favourite authors.

Make sure you go check out part one here before reading this part.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f.reader

Request: A Natasha variant (preferably the one in What If.. who was a survivor of the Ultron apocalypse and then moved to a different timeline where the Avengers Initiative failed) arrived in the ‘canon’ timeline and then meets the reader who happens to be the wife of the ‘canon’ dead Natasha and reader also happens to be dead on Natasha variant’s own different timelines.

Am I making sense? Lol. Anyway, basically, the multiverse is in complete chaos here and different variants arrive in different timelines and Natasha and the love of her life meet each other again in the midst of all chaos. It would also be cool if Natasha variant gets shocked that her wife reader is in fact close to her Russian family. Would also really love Yelena to show up in this fic.

Words: 3.6k

What If...? is a collaborative writing project. Each chapter will be written by a different author but will follow the same storyline based on the request. Each author will add to the story until the request has been fulfilled.

Part Two

The past few hours had been a whirlwind. Yelena had taken you to a small private airport on the outskirts of the city where she led you to a light aircraft. You shouldn’t have been surprised when she had begun to set up for take off, Natasha was able to pilot most aircrafts so it made sense that her sister, a fellow widow, would possess the same skills.

You had strapped into the remaining seat in the cockpit, a wave of nostalgia washing over you as you recalled the countless times you had been a co-pilot for your wife. The memories of the easy smiles she would give you from the pilot's seat, headset resting atop her red locks as she looked over at you with nothing but love and adoration causing your heart to constrict painfully.

You turn away from Yelena, not wanting her to see the tears that were beginning to well in your eyes. You press the heel of your hand to your eyes, rubbing at them to try and get your emotions under control.

Yelena begins to nudge the small plane down the runway, the wheels lifting from the ground as the two of you become airborne. You adjust the headset over your ears, the noise from outside dulled by the noise suppression as your sister-in-law adjusts the dials on the control panel as you reach the desired altitude.

“So where are we going anyway?” you ask, your voice crackling through the headphones. You hadn’t thought to ask before now, too caught up with Yelena’s sudden appearance in your life and the prospect of meeting the rest of Natasha’s family.

She doesn’t even glance at you as she answers, her eyes fixed on the sky ahead as the plane glides through the air.

“Ohio.”

//

Thankfully the flight wasn’t long, an awkward silence filling the cockpit for the entire duration. You had so many questions but you were unsure how to bring them up, not wanting to dredge up any unpleasant memories for the woman who was clearly still struggling with the loss of her sister.

Instead, you watched the clouds as they rolled by, the sky a bright blue backdrop to one of the strangest days you had experienced in a long time. You hadn’t really done anything since Thanos, spending your days in your small apartment lost in the memories of happier times. The life you once led, days filled with missions and time spent training for the next threat were long behind you. You doubted you would ever be able to go back to it.

Not without Natasha.

When you land, the sun is high in the sky but the heat barely cuts through the late November chill. You’re glad you thought to bring your coat with you, wrapping it tighter around you as you climb down from the plane.

You’re surprised when you see the vehicle that Yelena is leading you towards, a blue pickup is not what you would have expected the blonde assassin to be driving. You don’t say anything as you clamber inside and neither does Yelena as she starts the car and begins the journey to your destination.

After ten minutes of driving, you can’t take the silence anymore and you reach for the radio. You thumb through the stations, trying to find a song that you recognised and smiling when the familiar notes of American Pie float through the air.

You close your eyes as you remember the look on Natasha’s face every time it would come on, the serene smile that would cross her face as she would close her eyes and sway gently to the beat. She never mentioned it but you knew it was one of her favourites and you were glad that the memory didn’t bring with it the usual wave of grief.

The music cuts off abruptly and your eyes fly open, looking over at Yelena and seeing the scowl across her features as she stares at the road ahead.

“No.”

She doesn’t offer any explanation and your stomach lurches as you realise that the song must be tied to one of her childhood memories with Natasha. Why else would the song elicit reactions from the both of them?

You turn your head to the window once more, watching as the truck navigates through the town. You pass shopfronts, football fields and rows and rows of houses; the neat, manicured lawns reflecting the ideal suburban life. You watch kids running around their yards, their laughter ringing through the air.

Yelena turns down a side street and you spy bikes resting against houses, trampolines standing tall in backyards and you even spot a tire swing hanging from one of the many trees. The houses are more spread out here, surrounded by trees and bushes and creating an almost magical, forest feel.

“This is where you grew up.” You don’t pose it as a question, not even looking to Yelena for confirmation.

Natasha had mentioned her time spent in Ohio, a wistful look on her face as she described the idyllic life she was able to lead for those few short years. Your heart had broken for her, knowing that the majority of her childhood had been filled with fear and pain. But you were glad she would always have the memories of her perfect life in the suburbs, even if it was all for show.

Yelena doesn’t respond, pulling into a driveway on the street and cutting the engine of the truck. She sits there for a moment, hands resting on the wheel as she gazes at the house before her. You catch the shimmer of her eyes and you know that the house represents more than you could ever imagine for her.

“C’mon,” she begins after a moment, reaching for the door handle. “Better not keep them waiting.”

She doesn’t wait for you, opening the door and exiting the vehicle. You watch her walk up the driveway, her plaid, yellow coat swaying as she moved. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves as you follow suit.

Yelena is already waiting at the door by the time you catch up to her, the sound of the doorbell echoing from within the house. You hear footsteps moving closer and before you have time to worry about what awaits you on the other side, the door swings open and you’re face to face with a tall, middle-aged man whose wide smile you can only just make out through his thick beard.

“Lena,” he exclaims, wrapping the blonde in a tight hug. “Your mother said you were coming but I didn’t believe her. You haven’t been to see the house since we moved in.”

Yelena pushes herself from his grasp trying to act annoyed by his attention but you catch the smile tugging at her lips. You realise this must be Alexi, the pseudo father that Natasha had told you about. She had always said he had a way of putting his foot in it despite his good intentions and you could see what she meant.

But still, the way he looked at Yelena, you could have sworn he was her biological father.

“And you’ve brought a friend?” His attention was now turned to you and you fight the urge to shrink under his gaze, despite the friendly look on his face.

“No, she’s not a friend,” Yelena answers him, her tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s family.”

You turn to look at her but she’s already pushing past Alexi to walk inside the house, leaving the man standing there looking at you dumbfounded.

“Well,” you say after a few moments of awkward silence, “this wasn’t how I expected to meet my in-laws.”

//

After the initial shock had worn off, Alexi had ushered you inside. You had followed him through the house to a small kitchen at the back where you saw Yelena being embraced by an older woman with dark hair. As they parted, the woman cupped Yelena's face in her hands while smiling down at her and you knew that it had to be Melina, no one else would look at her with such motherly affection.

Alexi cleared his throat and Melina’s attention fell to you, her smile faltering for only a second before she took a step toward you.

“And this must be Natasha’s wife, I’m so glad to finally meet you.” Her hand was stretched out toward you and you took it in yours, trying not to react to the grip so similar to your wife's’.

“Wait, you knew?” Alexi cut in, the outrage clear on his face.

“Of course I knew,” Melina rolled her eyes as she guided you to the table nearby, her hand gently gripping your elbow. “I knew our Natasha was in love the second I saw her again at the Petersburg house. Plus, she’s still wearing her ring”

You sit at the table, Yelena taking the spot across from you and looking at you with an unreadable expression. Melina moved back to the kitchen, busying herself with arranging food onto dishes and bringing them to the table. Alexi sat down at the head of the table, eyeing you warily as he methodically buttered a roll that Melina had placed in front of him.

“She never really talked about you,” Melina continued as she worked, her eyes flitting to you, “but I wouldn’t take that personally, dear. She was still so guarded around me, even after we took down the Red Room. I don’t blame her, we lost so many years together and I betrayed her trust.”

“She talked about you,” you say after a beat, Melina's eyes flicking to you hopefully. “She had a lot of things she kept secret, it was hard for her to open up, even with me. But sometimes she’d mention something from her time in Ohio and she always seemed happy when she was remembering her time here.”

You feel a warm weight on your hand and your gaze travels from Alexis hand resting over yours to see his eyes shining with emotion. You offer him a smile in return, realising how loved Natasha truly was.

You just hoped that she realised it too.

Melina placed the last dish on the table and the tension is broken as Alexi clears his throat and begins to pile food onto his plate. The rest of you follow suit and soon the room is filled with cutlery clinking against plates and the satisfied sounds of people eating.

“So,” Melina turns to you after a few minutes, “tell us about your Natasha.”

You pause, finishing the food in your mouth before you begin. Once you start, it's hard to stop. You share stories about your time with Natasha, talking about how you first met all those years ago. You share details of missions with her, how proud she always made you, how she always made sure to keep you safe.

It wasn’t all one-sided though. In between your stories, the others would share their own anecdotes about your wife. It was nice to see her through their eyes and to know that the strength she radiated around you was noticed by others.

As emotional as it was, it was nice to be able to talk about her with people who really knew her. They were her family and talking to them made you feel connected to her, something you hadn’t felt for many months. They were all you had left of her and you were glad they had welcomed you so openly.

The food was long gone, the remnants of lunch littering the plates as you all continued to talk. You laughed as Melina told the story of Natasha dying her hair blue when she was younger, an act of rebellion on her part. You even caught Yelena smiling a few times, something you were sure she was incapable of from the solemn attitude she had presented up till now.

“You should go visit her,” Melina says and you catch Yelena stiffen beside you.

You’re confused, unsure exactly what Melina’s words meant, your gut telling you that Yelena’s reaction wasn’t a good sign.

“Visit who?” you question quietly, the light atmosphere that had settled around the table now thick with tension once more.

“Natasha,” she answers you and your breath catches, hope filling you for the briefest of moments. “There was no body to bury but we had a gravestone made and placed nearby. Yelena can take you to see it if you want.”

You try not to let the disappointment show on your face, of course Natasha wasn’t still alive. If she had been, she would have found you before now, she wouldn’t have let you suffer in your grief all those long months.

You can sense from Yelena’s posture that she isn’t thrilled with the idea and to be honest neither are you. You don’t want to be faced with yet another reminder of your loss, of the fact that you were all alone in this world. But Melina’s offer didn’t really leave much room to decline the invitation and you had just found this piece of your wife to cling onto, you didn’t want to ruin your relationship with them before it had really begun.

“Okay,” you agree, trying to return Melina’s smile.

//

The blue pickup rumbled down the road, the crisp November air swirling through the open windows of the cabin and filling your lungs.

Yelena doesn’t talk and neither do you, the two of you sitting in silence once more as she drives to your destination, every second that passes filling you with dread. The truck turns off the main road, following a dirt track carved out between the trees.

Suddenly, Yelena stops the pickup, the engine idling for a moment before she turns the key and the air is silent around you aside from the sound of birds nearby. You take a deep breath, eyes darting around trying to find what you had come here for.

Your heart clenches as you spot it, a small collection of stones at the end of the path. You don’t have to ask which one is Natasha's, even from where you sat you could make out the Black Widow symbol, her gravestone littered with flowers and other small tokens. You weren’t sure who had put them there but you knew that even though they didn’t know what had happened exactly, the world was thankful for all that she had done for them.

If only they knew what her sacrifice meant, how responsible she was in bringing everyone back.

“Are you ready?” Yelena’s voice catches you off guard, tears springing to your eyes at the thought of leaving the car.

“I can’t do it,” you reply, your voice trembling as you shake you head. “Even though she’s not really there, I just- I can’t.”

Yelena just nods in response, her hands tightening on the wheel for a moment before she reaches over to open the door.

“Come on, Fanny,” she grunts as she steps down from the pickup, the tan dog that Yelena had retrieved from the house following her out.

You smile as a memory of Natasha flashes to your mind, her complaining about one of the aliases she had been given and how ridiculous the name was. You were once again reminded how much Natasha’s legacy was interwoven in other people’s lives, not just your own.

You were glad that you weren’t the only person who was fighting so hard to keep her memory alive.

You watch Yelena as she walks up the path towards the headstone, sitting solitary under a tree. She crouches down for a few minutes, tidying up around the stone. You see her fingers tugging at the weeds that were growing there, adjusting the items that had been placed in Natasha’s memory.

She moves to the side of the headstone then, pressing her head against it and you have to look away, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment of grief. You had lost your wife but Yelena had lost her sister. You were lucky that you had the last five years with Natasha, time was something that Yelena never got.

She rises after a moment, walking to stand in front of the gravestone. You watch as the bottom of her yellow coat sways with the breeze, the cool air whipping through the still open window and making you shiver. You reach over to wind the glass up and by the time you look back to Yelena, she’s no longer alone.

A lady in a black coat is now standing beside her, the two of them seeming to be engaged in a conversation. You wonder if Yelena knows this person, the stiff set of her shoulders radiating annoyance.

The mystery woman reaches into her bag, handing something to Yelena. They talk for a few more minutes and then Yelena is walking back toward you, leaving the woman standing over Natasha’s grave.

Yelena opens the door, ushering the dog inside before climbing in herself. You want to ask about what you just saw but you don’t know if you should, or if she would answer your question anyway.

“I need to go back to New York,” Yelena tells you. “I have something to take care of there.”

It’s the only explanation you get.

//

It had been a few weeks since your trip to Ohio. November had ended and the days were getting colder. You found yourself dreading the upcoming Christmas, not wanting to spend yet another holiday without your wife.

You hadn’t seen Yelena since she dropped you back home but you had heard from her a few times. You didn’t want to ask how she had acquired your number but every few days she would send you a message checking in, or a random memory of Natasha to share.

The two of you had started to form a tentative friendship but you still had no idea what it was that she had to take care of in the city. Anytime you brought it up she would just brush it off, saying she was getting ready for a job.

You had no idea what she even did for work and to be honest, you were too scared to ask.

//

Things had been strange in the city the past few days.

Some strange creatures had been spotted around, destroying buildings and terrorising the people of New York.

You had thought about helping whatever team was left but Strange had been in contact with you, telling you he had it all under control for now and that he’d let you know if he needed help. You were fine with that, not really wanting to get caught up in all that craziness again.

Last night had been the worst of it, the sky had lit up across the city, looking like it was about to crack open. You had no idea what it all meant, but by the time you had woken up this morning, things had looked like they had settled down.

There were no more sightings of giant lizard men or people dressed in green suits flying around and dropping explosives. You hoped that Strange had fixed everything, you knew that he had the potential to do some wild things with his magic and you wondered what exactly he had gotten himself into.

You spent the day wandering the city, the biting cold distracting you from your thoughts as you walked. The closer it got to Christmas, the more you were thinking about Natasha and all the traditions you usually shared with her.

You thought about reaching out to Wanda, but you hadn’t heard back from her in months and you figured that she didn’t want to be contacted. So instead you let your feet carry you through the city, the snow falling around you as you shoved your hands deeper into your pocket to try and fight off the cold.

The sky was beginning to darken, so you decided to return home, not wanting to get caught outside at night in the snow. You trekked the familiar path to your apartment, admiring the lights of the city along the way.

You had to hand it to New York, they certainly knew how to celebrate Christmas.

You step off the elevator, walking towards your apartment door. You’re almost there before you notice it, the flicker of a shadow underneath your closed door. Your breath stops short, someone was in your apartment.

You figure it must be Yelena again and you vow to have a talk to her about breaking into people’s houses instead of knocking but just in case, you retrieve the gun hidden in the vent across from your door.

You unlock the front door, opening it slowly and stepping into the dark entryway. You flick the light on, gun raised as you move inside. The door clicks behind you and you strain to hear any kind of movement but all you’re met with is silence.

You decide to do a sweep of the apartment, maybe you had imagined the shadow but your years of training wouldn’t let you rest until you had checked every room.

Taking a deep breath, you turn the corner with your gun still raised and you’re met with another gun pointing back at you.

Your instinct tells you to pull the trigger but you hesitate, the flash of red hair behind the gun stopping you in your tracks.

You take in the intruder. Her hair was shorter than you remembered, her green eyes looking more haunted than they had before the Time Heist but it was her. Or at least a version of her.

You see her falter as well, her gun lowering slightly as she looks at you in recognition and disbelief. She whispers your name, your chest constricting as you hear her voice. Something you never thought you would hear again.

Your voice sounds choked as you reply, your whole world shifting in one moment.

“Natasha?”

Onto part three, take it away @vancityfire13 ! I can’t wait to see where you go with it ❤️

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

Taglist- @twilight-99-tm , @wlwmarvelenthusiast , @captains-simp, @too-gay-for-marvel, @hopingforromanoff, @uno-x-uno, @xxromanoffxx, @diaryoflife , @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @chibilauren @prncsshvn @imobsessedwithmilfss, @monsterchen @infrunamix @clex99 @imnotslouching , @nerdyclodhumanoidskeleton , @filmsromanova @aprimellow @when-wolves-howl @catswag22 @potentialsandwhich @nopurpose-cat

Hey y'all I just wanted to to notify all my followers that I will no longer use this blog I have a newer one in which I will be using. If you would want to follow the newer blog here it is @cat34p

Please let there be a second part. It hit me right in da 💔😭

Alexia, mi reinita, mi amor, mi todo | Alexia Putellas x Reader

A/N: Not me wanting to get this out still on Alexia's birthday like I'm turning an essay in at midnight. Ok honestly I would write a part two of this but that's only if people are interested. Again requests are closed for now.

So it's a little angsty, has a little hurt/comfort (I know this woman gives the best hugs let's be real), and some Alexia fluff.

Based on this prompt list: #4, #20

Warnings: Anxiety/panic attack symptoms

WC: 1860

Alexia had resolved it in herself that she would use whatever leverage she had to have you stay at Barcelona. She was not the type to use that card…she was not that kind of player…the type to threaten to leave to get what she wanted, but the thing she wanted was you. She had tried to speak with some of the staff about it but they were “conveniently busy”. With no success, she texts you “Voy a casa, te veo pronto, amor” (I’m going home, I’ll see you soon, love)  before driving over to your shared home.

Barcelona was dragging their feet with regards to your contract of whether you would be renewed or be traded to some other club, some other league, some other country. You had spent 4 years dedicated to Barcelona and had earned your spot in the midfield. The statistics you pulled throughout your career there were phenomenal, the kind that made your girlfriend proud to see because she was there from the beginning. So why was Barcelona playing a cat and mouse game with your livelihood?

______________________________________________________________

“Alexia, mi Reinita, mi amor, mi todo (my little queen, my love, my everything),

You know that I am better with my words written on paper than spoken to you. You still make me nervous when I look at you; I still blush as quickly as I did when we first met. I write this to you because I’m going to America to Bay FC…the deal has been done and the announcements will be out in a couple of weeks, but I wanted you to be the first to know. 

______________________________________________________________

The amount of times that Alexia had found you at that kitchen table with your head covered by your arms crying out your frustrations at another deal that went nowhere. She would never say a word and just quietly wrapped her arms around you and kissed the back of your head before laying hers on it. Once the crying stopped her hand would gently rub your back until eventually you began to move and pulled her into a hug with your head at her abdomen with a quick whisper of “let’s go to sleep”. Her only words would be “of course, cariño (dear)”.

______________________________________________________________

I know how you are mi amor (my love) but fighting the club is not worth it. It is hard to swallow the reality that the club that I grew up watching, grew up to play in, does not carry the same love and dedication I had for them…for me. You were one of the first people I met 4 years ago when I transferred from my club team in Mexico. It was a big move and you were there to just welcome me in, you knew immediately that I did not take change very well and was uncomfortable with everything. 

______________________________________________________________

Alexia, at some point, blocked some sports news outlets on your social media because of how overwhelming the “(y/n) Transfer Rumor” posts were getting for you. You did not want to leave Barcelona, you had made a home there with Alexia and the thought of leaving all of what you had terrified you. 

You could already hear the comments from the “fans” questioning your loyalty, why you couldn’t just confirm that you would be staying at Barça or leaving the team all together, why you were silent on the rumors? Alexia would be there with her head on your shoulder quietly holding you in the kitchen quieting the noises in your head with a simple kiss to the temple.

“Mi princesa, go sit down.. I’ll make dinner” she’d whisper into your hair as she led you to the table and made dinner while you watched with warmth at the woman before you. 

______________________________________________________________

I remember you would tease me about my accent when I spoke Spanish and said you would give me lessons if I made you a bag after you saw me crocheting mine on the bus to my first away game. I know that the Spanish lessons were just a way to spend time with me. You could have asked me to be with you at any point and I would have said yes. I remember you teaching me how to dance in our kitchen one night after saying that I was worried about making a fool out of myself at my brother’s wedding. I’m going to miss our 3 am dances we would do when I was pacing the kitchen stressed out of my mind on this transfer.

As you said, “Here I don’t want you to walk back and forth alone, just dance with me instead…I'm here”. I still remember the feeling of you under my palms; every curve, every line as I would take the lead of the dance and you would look at me calmly guiding my hands like how you did when you first taught me…yeah I’ll miss those quiet moments the most. 

______________________________________________________________

You had not gone to practice that morning due to stomach issues and you had to basically push Alexia out of the door so that she went to practice. 

“I’ll get some rest do not worry, mi Reinita” You say as she answers with a quick kiss.

She grabs her bags and gives another kiss pulling you in,“I’ll be home as soon as I'm done ok?”.

As Alexia entered through the doorway of the shared home and saw several moving boxes littered on the floor. Confused, she looks for you as there is not the usual soft music that you play when you are doing chores and finds you wrapped in a blanket sound asleep on the coach.

Her bag is gently put to the ground as she rounds the corner of the coach. She sees the coffee table littered with papers and your phone with an unread message from her.

She quietly looms over the papers, seeing a copy of your original Barcelona contract, the proposal, the rejection to the proposal, another club offer and, finally, the letter to confirm intention to transfer. Your phone lights up with another notification; getting the attention of Alexia who notices the handwritten letter that remained unfinished under your phone. 

You were a semi - heavy sleeper so she picked up the letter and began to read as her soft smile appeared, fell and then reappeared.  The boxes made sense now, you were organizing your things ahead of time to leave. Seems that you received the news that morning, explaining why the staff were busy when Alexia tried her best to speak with them.

She looked down at your handwriting again…she’s so familiar with it as you have always littered her spaces with sticky notes of encouragement, love and everything in between. You always thought she had thrown them away but on your 2nd year anniversary she showed you the box where she had kept every single note that you had written to her. 

It didn’t matter to her; she kept all the ones that said “Hi Ale, can you get some milk?”, “Reinita, there is dinner in the fridge”, “I’m too lazy, I ordered pizza oh and I guess Patri is coming over?’ 

This letter no matter how long she will keep especially close to her.

Alexia sat at the other end of the coach and began to read the last bit of the letter.

______________________________________________________________

I know that I will be so far from you and that you will miss the things that I do. You were always a romantic like that mi amor (my love). That’s why I am going to leave you my favorite book, the one that I always read way too many times and have cried over just as much. The only thing that I ask is that you don’t open it until I am gone and you are missing me. Just saying not to is going to make you want to open the book even more but please listen to me on this one. :)

I don’t know what the fixtures of the NWSL are yet but I know that you will want to -

______________________________________________________________

You stir and stretch out your legs pushing Alexia in the process. The resistance pulled you from your sleep.

Alexia laughs softly as she pats your leg, “Sleep well, cariño (dear)?” 

You only nod as you rub the sleep from your eyes. Without a word, you sit up and look at Alexia who fiddles with the note that you had written. 

“I wish I was at least awake when you found out, amor (love)” you start as you shift over to be closer to her.

“Are you mad at me?” your head now lying on her shoulder.

Alexia looks, almost, offended at the comment as she turns to you.

“This is your decision, cariño, you know that I will support in whatever you do and wherever you go…I’m sad, yes, but seeing you living out your dreams has been a honor for me…so no I’m not mad solamente bien orgullosa de ti (only very proud of you)”.

She pulls you closer, her hand softly rubbing your arm as she hears the small sniffles coming from you.

“Promise me you’ll watch at least one game” you say softly.

Alexia laughs and kisses the top of your head, “Amor, I’ll watch every one”.

______________________________________________________________

The announcement came and went and so did you. You found yourself preparing for the inaugural season for Bay FC. The fans had taken a liking to you immediately and the management welcomed you with open arms. 

Alexia, remained in your shared home that now was quieter without your presence. The spaces that normally were filled with little posts were bare, the days for chores weren’t filled with your questionable music, and Alexia no longer needed to dance in the kitchen at 3 am.

After a particularly hard practice, Alexia returned home missing you more than usual. As she plopped down on the coach her eyes fell on your book that you left behind for her.

She remembered that you had asked her to not open it until you were gone to your new club.

Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg, it was the book that you read every year during the summer without fail. No matter how many times you read it, Alexia would see you tear up and close the book to compose yourself before continuing. 

She got the book and opened to the first page and seeing a small, sticky note,

“I miss you, mi reinita”.

Alexia flipped the page and found another one,

“You can text my mom for her soup recipe, she’d only give it to you”

A laugh escapes her as she continues through the book finding more and more of your notes that you had written out. She skips to the end and finds an older looking note.

“I love you, Alexia Putellas…” with the date of your 1st anniversary with Alexia.

And below with newer ink and dated the day that you had left.

“And I… I still love you, even after all of this time”.