#vampire!natasha romanoff

[swaqcenix]

༻ Taste of Love & Blood | N. Romanoff ༺

vampire!natasha romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: When your friend's convince you to head to a club for a night out, who knew you'd take a liking to the hot red head serving the drinks on all hallows' eve? Shared jokes of her even being a blood-sucking vampire spun in the air. Something about her seems like a rose that you needed to prick your finger on & something about you smelt ever so sweet, she needed a taste. After all, all's fair in love & war.

Warnings: 18+, alcohol use, a lot of smut, blood kink, human!reader x vampire!natasha, neck biting, age gap, thigh riding, fingering, anal, dom!natasha, sub!reader, dry humping, overstimulation, dacryphilia, squirting, dark!natasha (?)

Pairings: natasha romanoff x fem!reader, vampire!natasha x human!fem reader, partially forbidden, age gap, dark!natasha (if you squint at the end)

Word Count: 4.9K

DC: cafekitsune

AN: Something about vampire Natasha sends me feral, so I had to write about her. On my knees for this Natasha (literally.)

The sound of a shot being slid over to you rang out your train of thoughts bringing your distant mind back within reality and the four walls of the club. Well, you say club but it's more like a place for the fucking rich.

Glancing over at Carol you arched a singular eyebrow and was received with a hum followed by a shrug. Hallows' eve & you were sat in what felt like a bar suited for expensive attire with yourself looking out of place now.

"Loosen up, Y/N. It's Hallows' eve and you're sat there looking like some witch or vampire is going to shoot into the place at any given moment," her voice teased lightly causing you to roll your eyes.

Instead of a response, you lifted the shot glass to your plump lips and threw it back. The all too familiar burn turned down the volume on your thoughts. It was like a thorn bush, prickling at your throat but irresistible to the touch.

Carol let out a choked laugh to which you responded back with the instant reaction of simply giving the finger. You were after all quite notoriously renowned for being one of the best at taking shot's of the friend group.

"I'm aware it's practically Halloween, but come on? I feel so outta place in comparison to this damn building. You guys didn't tell me it was going to be so.. posh," you retorted eyeing them.

Kate, the youngest of the group just sighed and her eyes ended up drifting to a woman at the bar ogling at the sight. She was quite an adventurous kind of girl, as Kate tended to have relationships all over the place-having the track record for one night stands out of all of you.

"Listen, why don't we play a game. See who can pull that lady over there because lord god she's something else," Wanda interjected.

Scoffing you shook your head not interested in their little games. You hadn't even paid the woman a glance yet. Shyness wasn't exactly the key to your issue, it was more you were afraid of stepping into the territory of one night stands & hooking up with anyone. Your record of ex's hardly played a very up-hand test in this given their own game's of chess.

They each agreed with Wanda's idea of fun and while somehow the idea did intrigue you, you also didn't want to indulge in such activities.

"You guys go ahead I'll just continue to sip on my whiskey and beer if you guys don't mind," you shrugged at them earning you groans across the table.

They all said nothing more though knowing nothing was going to convince you otherwise. Instead they left you to it heading over to play their games of flirting and what they would call "nights to remember." However, you settled on something more indulging in your mindset, simply nursing a glass of what was now rum placed in front of you.

It was like your mind drifted into a different dimension when you glanced at your drink. The sounds surrounding you dancing around you, drowning out. Eventually you glanced up seeing your friends glancing over to you and back to who you presumed was the lady they were attempting to pull. It almost made you snort with confusion at the passing glances.

Wanda just smirked with her signature look directed towards you, causing you to raise an eyebrow at the brunette pointedly. As you glanced around the bustling atmosphere of the club, it had become apparent that they'd become busier.

Carol, Wanda & Kate weaves their bodies through the crowds glancing at you for clarification. It was apparent they all wanted you to join them, to which you politely declined.

It wasn't that you were opposed to the vibes of the nightclub, you just weren't the biggest fan of throwing yourself all out into the intoxicating air of the room. Observing silently as you nursed your drink, your friends clearly found the music as addictive as a drug, getting higher until their minds filled with sheer joy.

There was no telling realistically how much time had passed with you sat there, the smoke machines and the lights illuminating the club allowing your skin to glow- almost like an aura showing visibility.

A loud gruffly voice bought you back from your inner thoughts, the smell of hardcore liquor causing you to wrinkle your nose at the sheer smell. His voice could be heard before his figure seen and it was rather repulsive, even if you did say so yourself.

"Hello, beautiful. What brings you here?" His voice carried an edge to it that made your spine cold, not in a good way ether.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you found yourself sensing where this conversation, or lack there of could go. It certainly wasn't appealing to yourself at all.

"I'm just out with some friends for the night, thank you." Your voice was less firm than you wished it to be, causing you to mentally slap yourself.

One of the main things you found repulsive about bars was the oncoming drift of men finding their way through the crowds like a heavy storm, brewing into something of a dark nature. In those fleeting moments they always seemed to discover you before the rest & it constantly set your skin alight with fire and fear.

"They left you on your own huh?" He said, his voice carrying a rough tone you weren't fond of.

"Yes, well I'm not much for all of the vibes. Thank you though."

It was clear you were evidently trying to push whatever intentions he had of pursing instantly. Yet, it was typical for yourself to end up in situations where men didn't get the memo.

"How about you take up my offer on dancing with me?"

He asked it in a way that his eyebrow raised suggestively, sending your stomach churning. If a situation ever called for bile to come rising up now would be one of them.

"I'll have to decline, thank you for the offer," You attempted to be polite about it.

However, internally you already wanted to tell him to just fuck off. Yet, not wanting to cause a scene in a club or attract anymore unwanted attention, it was clear to yourself that playing it cool and calm would be a safe bet. At least, hoping that would be the case.

His hand was rough and had little to no gentleness involved. Realistically, the only simple way to describe it was as though a hot heavy iron metal had touched your skin, trying to worm its way and mark you. He'd placed it on your shoulder, instantly tensing your body causing a deep breath to illicit from your lips.

"I must insist, it's not exactly me behaving like a gentleman if I leave you here to wallow alone in your thoughts," He pushed causing a deep frown to paint upon your face.

As you attempted to decline once more a more firmer voice came from behind you, bringing a sort of authoritative aroma surrounding the surrounding area. The person whom it belonged to you weren't aware only recognising it to be female.

"I believe she said no, Leroy," the tone clearly gave no room for argument.

It was almost amusing for a mere moment, watching the man who had clearly tried to peruse you shrivel into himself. He, better known as Leroy now to your knowledge muttered something incoherent beneath his breath.

"I was making friendly conversation that's all," He attempted to defend himself, however you heard the hitch of her breath as if she wasn't buying it at all.

"How about I make it even more friendly hm? You turn around heading to the door before I make you." She stated, to him challenging in a way your entire body shivered for a reason you couldn't quite place or comprehend.

You observed as his head lifted up almost to boldly and stupidly challenge her. That was until a form of a hiss came from behind, it almost tempted you to look behind at the sound. However, the sheer way Leroy's face paled and he looked like he wanted to run for his life, seemed to warn your mindset otherwise.

Scrambling out of his seat, Leroy practically fled from the scene like he couldn't carry his body out of the building fast enough. Had it been any other situation you may have laughed, but something in you sensed a form of danger, good or bad an unsureness lingering there.

Without meaning to, you found your head slowly turning behind you in the direction of the woman who seemingly had defended yourself. Anticipation mixed with anxiety stirred in the pit of your stomach like a whirling storm brewing at the cusp of the unknown.

Her hair ran down in a neat form to her shoulder's, spilling down over her face. It was a deep form of red, like a capturing sense of beauty, one nobody could resist. Lips painted a dark blood red, one could almost mistake her for royalty.

The woman's features even stood out if that were even more of a possibility. Her skin, pale in contrast to her starkly red hair and blood like lips. Eyes a piercing emerald green like she belonged with the earth in a deathly scene. Had you taken one glance of her trance, you'd mistake her for a vampire.

"Enjoying the view there, Sweetheart?" Her voice bringing you from your thoughts.

Your cheeks turned a deep beetroot red in realisation that the redhead had caught you not so subtly staring. She didn't seem to offended however, in fact a signature painted smirk lay upon her lips.

"Oh I-" You stupidly stuttered, unable to get your words out in a formatted sentence.

"I'm just teasing. Come on, follow me. I'll pour you a drink at the bar," She stated sauntering off and leaving no time for you to argue otherwise.

Even if you wanted to argue, you found your legs drifting on their own. It was like your brain had a totally different idea to your actual body, instinctively following the intriguing redhead. She went behind the bar gracefully, instinctively pouring you a drink, not that you’d asked her what you wanted to drink.

Her hands flexed with a speed you didn’t think were possible, yet the redhead simply did it was a delicacy and grace you couldn’t quite fathom. You hadn’t realised she’d finished pouring you your drink a mere few seconds go. Ironically one of your favourite cocktails, something you tended to drink under stressful circumstances.

“How did you-“ You attempted to talk, even through the loud atmosphere of the bar but the captivating woman merely shushed you.

“Instinctively guess dear, I hope I got it right.”

The redhead simply winked at you, her plump red lips tilting upwards into a smirk. That kind of look ans gesture sent a feeling shooting through to your core, making your knees feel wobbly and legs like Jelly. As if she could read anyone’s mind, specifically yours she let out a soft husky laugh. A noise so sweet but addictive you could have melted on the spot right there and then.

You picked up the drink taking a small sip of the cocktail, a soft moan leaving your lips with a content sigh at the taste. You noticed the bartender's mouth twitch and you could have sworn her eyes flashed red and darkened. Yet, no you must be imagining things.

"I'm Y/N by the way," you managed to stutter out. "But everyone calls me Y/N/N."

Her lips tilted up in something one could call a signature smirk, one that belonged and suited someone so well.

"I'm Natasha, but you may call me whatever you like sweetheart," She leaned over the bar smirking at you.

You were so grateful that the dim light hid your bright red cheeks, or you might have died on the spot in that moment. You raised an eyebrow at the redhead and Natasha simply winked at you.

Tilting your head to your previous table, you'd noticed your friends all gawking at you with knowing looks on their faces. Oh great. Natasha followed your gaze to the table gathered with your friends and a husky sultry laugh elicited from her plump lips.

"Ah they're with you?" She asked curiously.

Sighing, you found yourself sheepishly nodding glancing back at Natasha who was now looking at you like you seemed to be the only person in the bar existing.

"Yeah, they can be.. a handful but I love them."

Natasha laughed again, this time more heartedly, sending shivers into your skin and flutters dancing around in your heart and stomach.

"Mm they came over to me earlier, I assume trying to hit on me perhaps for a dare?" She said raising a pointed eyebrow at you.

You flushed more obviously now shaking your head as you sighed with embarrassment. Your friends always could be a little handful here and there.

"Mmm, sorry about that. Not interested then?"

"Well, my eyes are somewhere else," Natasha stated her deep green eyes never leaving yours.

Your entire body froze in shock of her words. The redhead clearly knew what she was doing, staring at you with those hooded green eyes.

"That makes two of us", you blurted out without thinking earning you a pointed look.

Natasha ended up finishing her shift but continued pouring drinks for both of you. The conversation flowed freely, like nothing seemed dull nor boring. It didn't seem forced or uncomfortable aside from whenever someone glanced even slightly in your way, Natasha sent them one look you never seemed to see and they couldn't get away quick enough.

Several drinks later, you felt the alcohol coursing through your veins making you looser and less caring of your actions. Funnily, the alcohol didn't seem to be affecting Natasha as much as it was you. She didn't seem to mind, instead she lead you to the dance floor even with your apprehension.

"Anyone would think you're a vampire with how you act," You jokes dancing casually as her hands slowly but carefully drifted to your hips.

It almost caused you to gasp aloud, but you kept yourself firm not wanting to break whatever the hell was occurring in this situation. You felt Natasha's lips lean down to your ear, hearing her raspy breaths causing you to shiver slightly.

"Who's to say I'm not darling," You could have laughed had her voice not being so deadly serious and filled with a taste of something that wasn't meant for others to see nor hear.

A hardcore blush filled your cheeks, rising into your face. You hadn't even noticed you'd been half grinding down on her leg until it was too late. Natasha's hands were guiding your hips like they had their own rhythm like it was natural.

"Shit sorry I-" You weren't even drunk, not fully but you couldn't help to indulge in areas you never deemed yourself to head.

Yet, as you went to pull away, Natasha made quick work of herself to yank you back into her arms. God her arms, you could barely make out the painted red nails in the light's glaring above you, but you could sense not one single thing was out of place.

"I'm not opposed to it, in fact I was rather enjoying myself darling," Her voice was darker this time, it sent shivers coursing through your entire being.

The both of you couldn't hold yourselves together, grinding halfway on the dance floor against one another. No care in the world was given, had you given yourself more dignity you may have been embarrassed. Yet, gone were the thoughts of your friends or the fact you were in public, tossed aside. All you could smell, think of and feel was Natasha behind you.

Time became completely meaningless, like it no longer existed, just a mere concept of a reality around you. Natasha's hand clasped your own guiding you to what you assumed was the staff-back entry. No arguments made of course, you found yourself following her like an obedient little thing, desperate for any form of attention.

Her soft warm hand guided you through the doors, into a locker-room that looked deserted aside the odd coat hanging up. The moment she entered with you, the redhead locked the door before slamming you into one of the lockers.

A surprise gasp elicited from your lips, her plump ones tilting upwards into a devilish smile. It was now you could see Natasha fully, her red flowing hair looking slightly tangled but still managing to look gorgeous. Yet, something felt off. As you glanced up into what you were expecting to see earthly-green eyes, you were met with a different sight.

Her eyes were a deep, haze of blood red, looking like she'd been crying for hours yet impossibly more than that. Your blood ran cold as Natasha raised an eyebrow at you, before realisation hit her face, her lips tilting slightly to the side.

"Are you-" You stuttered earning you a sultry deep chuckle, sending your blood cold.

"You can say it, I won't bite," The irony of the sentence not going to miss.

"A vampire?" The words sounded foreign on your lips, like you'd gone batshit insane.

Maybe you had? Perhaps, one too many shots or cocktails had sent your head spinning eyes going foggy and playing tricks. Yet, the way Natasha was staring at you, the red eyes only glowing deeper than a pricked rose told your mind it wasn't hallucinations.

"Does that scare you?" She asked, her voice going slightly gentle for a mere second.

Did it scare you? Deep down you felt it should, a vampire had no business or at least according to the lores of tales with human's. Not a good style of business anyway, especially considering all of the gore of films and books you'd indulged in.

However when you glanced at Natasha it felt.. different. Like you had no means to be scared. There were thorn's on single rose, it didn't steer people clear of admiring the rose's beauty and the symbolism of what the flower meant.

"No," your voice answered truthfully.

Your answer earned you a pointed look. Her lips tilting upwards into a wide grin. It exposed her fangs that were sharper than one could say a knife itself. Something in you felt drawn to them, to her. Like a siren, something dangerous was lurking you into a deep forest wanting to take you. You'd let her.

"Can I?" She asked, her lips placed delicately against your skin. You felt like Natasha was trying to memorise your scent, like you were prey to her, desperate for a sweet honey-scented bite.

"Yes," you found your lips answering of their own accord.

Waisting no more time for herself, Natasha lurched forward attaching her plump lips to your neck. A soft gasp, followed by a sweet moan left lips, yours or hers you weren't sure. The likelihood was both of you.

The older woman wasted no time with you, biting down hard enough to draw blood. This time it was you who moaned causing her to growl slightly in a way you didn't know could leave anyone's lips. She sucked away at the blood, a harsh smile painting upon her lips against your neck.

"You taste divine, like the heavens created you themselves," She whispered against your neck.

Natasha continued her bite trails, licking up the blood delicately but with care as she trailed along. You felt like you were indulging in such sinful acts, but with her holding you up against the locker, drawing out blood and treating you with such care. Well your mind couldn't form a simple formed thought let alone think of the consequences.

You felt a bare thigh slip between your skirt, right onto your core and your head slammed back into the locker. Yet, when you attempted to grind down on it Natasha gave you a large bite onto your jugular. She sucked away at the blood, but held your hips in place and you dare not move in that moment.

"Please, N-Natasha you're not playing fair," you attempted to gasp out.

Instead you received a firm hand around your throat lightly squeezing as she made direct eye contact with you. The eye contact was so intense, it sent your stomach alight, your insides churning around as you saw how deep red her eyes appeared.

"Oh darling, all's fair in love and war. Besides, I never play fair. Be a good girl now, wait patiently."

Plump lips, kissing you hard against your own gave you no time to respond. Instead you gasped into her mouth, giving Natasha enough time and chance to slide her tongue into your mouth. You accepted it willingly of course, desperate to get any sort of high she was going to give you.

A loud tear below, caught you off guard and your eyes drifted down to the sound. Gasping into the kiss, you'd discovered the redhead had all but destroyed your underwear ripping them off in one swift movement. God you knew vampires had a tendency for strength in some ways, but the sight of it being used for desire only drove heat straight to your core.

Before you could even protest, Natasha attacked your lips again, shoving her tongue back into your mouth. She nibbled feverishly at your lower lip, moaning softly against your lips.

"I cannot get enough of you my sweet little human," She whispered and you were grateful her hands were holding you up against the lockers.

Without warning, her hands started to grind your hips against her bare thigh, your core beginning to clench around practically nothing. If this was supposed to be hell, you'd stay in it every-time if Natasha was going to be driving you into sheer bliss like this.

Her hands roamed around your body, nails digging into your skin as they traced down against your back. The pain brought tears to your eyes, but merely bliss and arousal followed. Especially as you felt Natasha move you against her thigh, your wetness seeping down shamelessly onto her knee.

"My someone's a dirty little girl aren't they?" Her words sounding so filthy for someone who looked so pristine.

You felt her fingers drift down over your neck squeezing once again and she bit down on your lower lip once more. A metallic taste invaded your lips before she sucked on your lower lip, causing your back to arch as desire filled through your lungs.

Without a second of warning, Natasha's long delicate fingers firmly pressed against your clit, rubbing against it like she was determined to send you into a different dimension. You felt stars fill your eyes as your head once again slammed into the locker's behind you.

"N-Natasha I can't hold on.."

Your voice sounded so weak and pathetic, had it been any other time you'd have cared deeply and wanted nothing but to cower away in embarrassment. Yet, with Natasha's nimble fingers and thigh flexing her muscles every few seconds, you couldn't think. Only feel.

"I'm not asking you to hold on, Sweetheart. Let go, cum for me that's a good girl now," She asked her fingers moving at an impossibly fast speed.

That's when you felt the wetness seeping out of you like a gush, the orgasm hitting you at such a ferocity you needed to hold onto Natasha's shoulder's. Your nails dug into her skin and she smirked against your neck breathing in your scent like she couldn't get enough, her fingers nor guide on your hips never slowing. The feeing sent you into over-stimulation and you groaned loudly trying to pull away.

However, Natasha merely moved you with such an incredible strength you nearly gasped. She slammed you into the near by couch, well you say slammed. The older woman practically flew across the room with you in her arms, the couch ripping slightly with such intensity hitting it.

Natasha wasted no more time biting down your skin, physically ripping off your clothes. It was like something feral was now driving her, not stopping her for a single second. Your skin littered in bite marks, blood spilling out from each mark as she licked it up. Her tongue felt warm against your cold skin and you groaned at the feeling, burning your body alight.

Her hands drifted ferociously over your skin, clutching at your breasts, before her lips moved to them biting and sucking on your nipples. It felt like something you'd never felt before and you should be afraid, but you weren't. Instead your entire body dancing in the fires of desire and arousal.

"God, Y/N/N, I cannot get enough of you. You're a sweet creature who needs someone older to take care of you," She whispered before biting down on your stomach and sucking on it like it was her life's goal.

"J-Just how much older?" You tried to whisper before she squeezed her nails down on your thigh to shush you.

"Mm, all in good time pet, all in good time," Her nails racking down your now naked body drawing harsh red lines that would definitely leave marks.

Her lips attached themselves to your thigh, biting down hard with her fangs. You moaned loudly, causing her to shush you. You were still in the club after all. Your hands drifted into her silky red locks, bliss and arousal filling you up in every part of your body.

Suddenly, her slim fingers delved deep into your core, pumping with a speed that was animalistic. Natasha gave you no time to adjust to her fingers before adding 2 more, pumping in and out of you fast.

Your hips grinded down onto her fingers body practically arching off the couch in the locker room. Her free hand dug her nails back into your abdomen, pushing you back down as you felt her fangs continue to bite and suck away at both thighs.

"Natasha please, I'm going to cum can I cum?"

You begged her, barely recognising the sounds leaning your lips your voice sounding foreign to your own ears. Natasha chuckled, it was darker this time sounding scarier, something you shouldn't be turned on by. Yet, she knew different as more wetness left your core allowing her fingers to move at a feral pace the slick noises filling the room.

"No," She said without any room for arguments just a one word answer.

Her fingers merely sped up, causing some tears to spill from your eyes. Of course it didn't go unnoticed to the female vampire, instead Natasha chuckled, the sound sending your body cold and practically into a frenzy.

"Aw does my sweet little human need to cum that badly? Is my girl that much of a whore you can't fucking wait for 5 minutes?" She teased you causing you to writher beneath her whimpers leaving your lips.

Her mouth suddenly moved straight to your soaked pussy, sucking and using her fangs to bite gently but firmly down on your clit. Your hand had to fly up to your mouth to halt the screams. However, Natasha's fingers sped up and a particularly harsh bite told you she wanted to hear you.

"No no, Sweetheart. I want to hear your screams, moans and every ounce of pleasure I give you. You look devine crying from a simple pleasure of my fingers and tongue, be a good girl now and comply."

You went to protest before she dug her nails into your skin again causing you to move your hand and moan loudly.

"Don't test my patience pet. You don't want to find out if you cross a vampire, especially a female at that. Now let me take my reward," she said before her fingers sped up even faster.

Natasha's thumb moved to rub against your clit, her nails feeling surprisingly so incredibly good as her tongue worked wonders. You were convinced she had a longer tongue than the average human, but that wouldn't surprise you.

The knot in your stomach tightened and you felt stars dancing around in the corners of your vision. How much longer you could hold on you weren't sure, but her tongue wasn't slowing down and nor was her fingers. A particularly harsh bite down on your clit followed by a suck sent you crying in desperation.

"Okay sweet human, you can cum now. Make a beautiful mess on my tongue and fingers and give me my reward," She whispered the sounds hitting you hard.

Your back arched and you let out a cry of pain? Delight or joy? Possibly all three but you released hard on Natasha's fingers and tongue. A gush of wetness hit her tongue and the realisation that you'd squirted practically made Natasha almost loose control entirely.

Black dots began to fill your vision as you flopped back onto the now completely ripped couch, Natasha pulling away after some time. She licked up the remaining cum, her face which you could barely make out still had traces of your blood lingering there. Attempting to look down, you realised just how many bite marks there were.

Your vision was becoming too dark now, sheer exhaustion from your intense orgasms overtaking you as she leaned over you biting softly at your pulse point. You found yourself drifting away barely making out her final words as Natasha stroked your hair gently.

"I think I'll keep you pet. I'd love to worship a sweet little human like yourself and you'd do wonders in my little life. Mine to keep and mine to please," her voice fading away into the distance as your vision became foggier.

[ahhhwomen]

Long overdue sorrow.

Vampire Empire

Part 7.2

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: I got imposter syndrome, so hehe… also I don’t know what comfort is… but this is it ig? Well its my version, take it or leave it.

Chapter Warnings: Self-hatred, my version of comfort, allustions to past abuse Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 3k

Taglist

You can still feel her.

Stained teeth crush together, grinding and creaking as your jaw suffers to bite down the nausea that settles in the pit of your stomach.

Bits and pieces of adrenaline rush inside you, leaving you unaware of the blood that trickles from your lip, smudging against your tear-stained cheeks as you strain yourself while the remnants of your nightmare float inside your head.

Her hands.

Her claws.

Her teeth.

Her taste.

It’s as if you’re still there. 

Its…

It’s just-

It’s- it’s too dark.

That’s it.

Your enclosure.

It’s just too dark.

You grope blindly against the floor; your eyebrows scrunched together as you search. The cord of your heat lamp had been janky for a while, so it was bound to snap at some point.

Your palms are spread wide to offer the most surface area as you glide them gently atop the space beside your knees. The glide is smooth, lacking the usual bite as skin scratches against concrete. You feel individual sensations against the pads of your fingertips; you can’t, for the love of you, remember having this much space to search through before.

It takes you far longer than you care to admit before you realize something is definitely wrong.

The ground.

It’s soft?

“Hey, baby.” You yelp at the sound of her voice and flinch as the overhead lights flicker on.

Squinting, you lift your left hand to shield yourself from the light that filters above you. A few strands of rouge light shine between your fingers, illuminating them and blinding you as your eyes adjust to the harshness.

Something is obscuring your view of the doorway, which definitely doesn’t make sense because your enclosure doesn’t have a doorway, it barely has metal bars.

After a few seconds, the blob of darkness morphs into the scary older redhead.

Ah.

Right…

It's like a blanket of stone settling atop your frame as the circumstances sink in.

It’s so heavy… pushing and dragging against your neck and shoulders as you dig your hands into the carpet to keep yourself up.

You look at her for a moment. With her right shoulder pressed against expensive oak, Wanda fumbles with her feet as she leans against the doorframe. Seemingly uncertain of which leg to add the most weight to.

It’s so distinctively unlike her…

And yet, though she is clearly unsure of herself, she still holds her head high, shoulders rolled back, and her feet firmly planted.

It’s almost funny… the resemblance.

Goosebumps litter your skin as the chill of the room invades your senses while you take in your surroundings. Shifting your focus to the bed behind you, you see sheets and pillows scattered along the floor where you must have fallen.

There is rustling in the background as the older redhead moves around, but you ignore it. You can’t look at her. You are surprised she can look at you.

The sound bounces off the walls first. It’s like the echo of a recurring nightmare as the heavy sound bounces and rings in a screech inside the brightly lit room. With your head turned, you can’t see, but you know the command well as she knocks twice beside her heel.

The resemblance.

It hurts…

That must be humorous to her.

Which only makes it hurt more…

“Come here.” The two taps against the cushioned flooring repeat. The sound is heavier than before, with more pressure behind each knock. Her clenched fist twitches a little after each collision, and her voice stays firm.

You drag your legs against the strange softness beneath you, seeping into it with more weight than strictly necessary. When your palms leave the designated path for a moment and stride slightly to the sides, the carpet itches against your scrawny fingers.

The floor is entirely carpeted in this room…

Clawing forward, your knees push down upon the material, testing its durability. Your knees don’t ache, and there is no screeching groan as your joints struggle. You can’t feel the movement in your bones.

There is no bite of pain.

You hate it.

The carpet brushes against the sides of your butt as you sit down a few feet in front of the knelt-down woman. Trying in vain to alleviate the slight itchiness, you attempt to evenly distribute your weight between your hands and rump. It takes a few trials and errors before you find a comfortable enough position.

When you stop squirming, Wanda takes a hold of your jaw, twisting your head gently until you are forced to look into her eyes. Your neck strains against the movement, unsure of whether to obey or not, but it’s fruitless; you know you can’t stop yourself.

She runs her thumb, back and forth, against your chin as her slightly curled pointer holds your head up, “You are mine.”

Huh?

Instead of elaborating, the older redhead licks her thumb.

It’s wet and cold against your cheek as she smooches it over the trail of dried blood originating from your split lip. Her finger runs over dried speckles repeatedly, flaking them off and catching them on her spit-covered thumb, saliva rehydrating it until it glistens to life.

She continues like this for a few moments. When she deems her work good enough, Wanda wipes her thumb on her pants, purposefully avoiding the taste of you.

You should be offended.

However, you understand.

You have always understood.

The older woman continues in a firm, yet gentle, tone, “It’s my job to take care of you. You don’t think, you don’t do, you just listen.” Being this close to her, you can feel her breath dancing between the two of you; it puffs against your lips periodically.

Why bother?

If you could, you might have asked her that.

God, you are so fucking disgusting.

For someone who’s been praised for their intelligence since childhood, Wanda feels incredibly stupid at this moment.

Wanda knows that look.

She should have noticed sooner.

It wasn’t like your detached behavior from the last couple of days. This was different. You didn’t cower away from her, and you didn’t look through her either.

You were here, but not with her.

You look angry.

But not at her.

Oh…

Oh no.

Abso-fucking-lutely not.

For a moment, everything is a blur of motion as the redhead moves at an inhumane speed. Not giving you enough time to react.

Warm hands encircle your waist. Her left hand rests the lowest, just above your tailbone, drawing small imaginary circles as her right hand sneaks its way into your hair. She gently hauls you into her lap, catching you off guard as a tiny squeak escapes from your lips before you can stop yourself.

You tense, preparing for the harsh tug as claws grip your hair firmly while she feeds from you. Instead, Wanda pushes against the back of your head with an open palm until you are forced to lie your ear against her shoulder, hiding your face beneath her jaw.

There isn’t much time to react before Wanda makes up her mind.

“Come. It’s late.”  Her left hand shifts from your lower back to supporting your bottom as she lifts you up and starts the trek to the master bedroom where Natasha is waiting for the both of you.

All you can focus on is the sound of her bare feet hitting the flooring as confusion and uncertainty simmer below the surface. However, you are too exhausted to think up questions you will never have answered or fight her grip, so instead, you relax into her.

She’s warm against your bare skin; it’s different from your heat lamp. Depending on the temperature outside, your red lamp would either scorch you or delicately balance you between life and death. Her skin was smooth, unlike your own, the subtle smell of roses submerging you in its warmth, softness, and false safety.

She can’t lie…

Natasha has to fight incredibly hard not to gasp out loud at the sight that greets her as her wife carries you into their bedroom.

The sheets beneath Natasha ruffle as she places her book on the nightstand beside her. The cover is leather, far older than you, so its texture runs deep, leaving small pits in the most used positions where the oil of her fingertips has run its course over the years.

She had been keeping a tuned ear on the baby monitor on Wanda’s side of the bed, but she didn’t expect this when she heard Wanda’s command for you to follow.

You are allowing yourself to be held…

But it’s not just that…

Natasha’s eyes are glued to the pair of you as Wanda pats your bottom reassuringly while she works on juggling you while attempting to get you both placed on the bed with the sheets pulled back.

You are resting with your head against Wanda’s throat…

The world’s most powerful vampire…

The mantra repeats inside Natasha’s head in the few seconds it takes for Wanda to settle on the bed with you still atop her lap.

You are resting… with your teeth against the only vulnerable part of a vampire’s anatomy.

Wanda gets squirmy even if it’s Natasha getting close to her throat.

The quick jab to her ribs is the only thing that brings Natasha back from her gob-smacked stare as Wanda flairs her elbow out and tilts her head toward your slumped frame. The lack of proper rest must be getting to you if you allow this much touch, especially from her wife.

Natasha’s lips can’t help but lift a little, seeing your small frame curled like a sleepy kitten on top of her wife’s lap, it was rather cute.

Reaching over slowly, so as to let you retreat from her touch, the younger redhead is delighted to be allowed to run her hand over your back gently while you relax heavily against the warm body beneath you.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

The pressure of multiple sets of hands pulls you deeper into the steep waters of your exhaustion.

They will make a fool of you.

The disgraceful pig you are.

Absolutely revolting.

“Stop that, baby.” Wanda drags her fingers through your hair, detangling and smoothing down your frizzy ends.

Your behavior was telling…

She weaves through your strands, tenderly separating parts and placing them to the side of your neck, the opposite side of the one that nuzzles her. Though it doesn’t expose your face to her watchful gaze, she can see your jaw peeking out and leans down to place a quick peck, unable to help herself.

It’s all so very strange…

Yesterday, she could barely look at you.

After… well you know.

You are rather sickening, so you can’t blame her.

But… what is going on…?

Wanda can practically feel the self-loathing that oozes from your very essence; it is her fault, really. She had assumed you would need space after what she did, but looking at you now, subtly shaking inside her hold due to the guilt you carry, Wanda realizes her mistake.

Pats turn into tender scratches. The tips of her nails rake down the back of your neck, the nail on her pointer is distinctively sharper than the rest, it pushes down on your skin, leaving behind a trickle of pressure, tugging lightly against the small hairs at the nape of your neck.

It feels…

Nice?

“I’m sorry, kitten,” Wanda whispers against the side of your head. Again, Natasha is the one who has to refrain from doing a spit take as her wife admits fault in such a caring manner.

The older redhead has her cheek pressed into the side of your head, leaving her words soft as she sighs them against the shell of your ear. The tiny hairs on the upper part of your ear stand at attention as her breath washes over them in a soothing pattern.

“It’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” She stills the hand against your neck, shifting it until her palm holds loosely against your jugular, and she pushes down against it. Pushing and prodding until you groan in relief. It’s on the tip of too tight, challenging your every breath.

Just like your collar used to.

“Want to know how I know this?” The question is rhetorical, and Wanda answers before you can think about it, “Because I am not Carol. I’m not a monster.”

Her other hand strokes your back. Her fingertips are warm, yet they leave behind trails of chills as she drags them back and forth against your shoulder blades while Natasha rests her hand against your lower back, “And neither are you.”

Yes, you are.

Your nose digs into her throat, desperately trying to escape the lies that pour from the older woman. You can feel her pulse against you, beating in a rhythm far slower than your own.

You might not have the accessibility to a mirror, but you aren’t stupid.

You aren’t like the other pets. You know how you look and what the meaning of your scars are. There is nothing desirable about you except for being a fucking juice box.

That damn collar was the only thing shielding you from your true gruesome self.

Without it you are nothing.

Nothing but h-

“You are mine.” A veiny hand joins the comforting weight against your throat, and you gently sway to the side as Natasha playfully shoulder bumps her wife in warning while she strokes the other side of your throat. The redhead sighs a chuckle, “Mine. And Natasha’s.”

Wanda leans even closer, whispering directly into your ear, it tickles a little, “But mostly mine.”

Your brows furrow in confusion for what feels like the hundredth time that night, but Wanda beats you to it, “I don’t know why… I don’t know when it changed; perhaps you were always meant to be ours.”

“These-“ The older redhead pushes gently onto one of the many scars that litter your neck, “don’t change that.” Wanda can feel your eyelashes flutter against her skin as you squint in suspicion.

Wanda continues to whisper softly, keeping a layer of calm that she hopes will settle some of your worries for the night, “We will get you a new collar. Natasha tells me she has ordered your name tag, though that one scares me a little because she refuses to tell me what’s on it…” The redhead aims for playful reassurance, but she hears you sniffle long before the first tear slides down her throat.

Isn’t it enough already?!

Why do they never know when to stop…

GOD JUST STOP!

You whine in disdain, horrified with your own reaction as you hear Wanda speak of a future you know to be false. You squirm inside their hold, tightening your hands against the older redhead’s cotton t-shirt as you desperately attempt to collect yourself silently.

“Look at me-“You pull away from her, embarrassed by your own reaction. She guides you back with her pointer while continuing to gently shush you, “No baby, eyes on me.”

You obey, if only to make her stop talking. Screwing your eyes open, your look into her eyes with tears obscuring your view, it stretches and morphs the sight before you, leaving you unsure whether you are really looking at her or not.

Wanda tightens her grip on you, the mere sight of your tears leaving her angry at memories she knows she can’t erase, but her anger can wait.

It needs to be said.

“You are mine. And you are beautiful.” She whispers between the two of you, the words land somewhere between your eyebrows, and you stare down at her. Natasha is glued to your back, keeping you sandwiched between the two of them so you can’t escape.

It’s unavoidable.

In that moment, everything boils over.

Every pot of despair, fear, hurt, and sorrow, bubbles and hisses.

And you?

You sob like the child you never were.

Natasha’s hands grip your midsection from behind. Your pain sears through her, and she digs her fingers in enough to feel your ribs expand and contract as you wheeze your pain through gurgling sobs.

“You are beautiful,” the younger redhead repeats the words of her wife, determined to say it until the end of her life if only to get you to believe it. You have been through so much, and you deserve this. You deserve the truth.

“Shhh… I know, I know, just breathe for me, honey,” Wanda keeps one hand firmly planted against your chest, helping regulate your breathing as she pushes up and down, while the other wipes away your tears.

You heave yourself on top of Wanda, curling into her, sticking your head as tight against her neck as you can manage.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

But…

You claw your hands under her shirt, desperate for contact. Wanda relents, separating herself for a split moment so she can strip off the ugly band shirt she only uses for sleep attire.

With her naked skin pressed against yours and the praise whispered from her counterpart, you feel like you can finally breathe for the first time in your life.

Your body is determined to wring out every ounce of sorrow it has carried for so many years, and the two redheads let it. Cooing and soothing you as you sob.

It’s far passed midnight when you finally calm, only a sniffle here and there remaining. Truly spent and wrung out, you pass out against Wanda’s chest.

Wanda kisses your forehead and lets herself truly feel your weight settling on her chest; she feels your breath against her sensitive neck, your hands loosening.

It feels right.

Like you were always meant to be here.

Nothing is permanently fixed.

Wanda still has some next-level groveling to do after the stunt she pulled a few nights ago.

And in the morning, you will go back to your quiet, reserved, shy self.

But, for tonight; you cry, you cuddle, and you sleep without guilt or fear.

For once, you are free.

(You guys waited 9 months for this absolute garbage... I am so sorry)

Taglist:

@thinking1bee @tobiaslut @esmeseasle @skittlebum @tia-thesimp @maximilfsworld @leenasayeed @scarlethexelove @itsalwaysskorpioszn @observeowl @tekanparadiae @adelareys @anqyuicka @ichala @thalia-is-not-ok @lovelyy-moonlight @wandamaximoff-simp @opossumking03 @confidant-thoughts @delivery-bird @esouliie @geydumbbetch @dorabledewdroop @herwagonempathkid @mommysfavouritegirl @auroraromaximoff @roman0ffsheart @morganna-la-faye @kaosrsing @lizzieswife101 @og-kxsh-420 @chibilauren @sgm616 @cyber-juipter @falloutboy-lover @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @likefirenrain @cole2907 @rahhhha @taliiiaasteria @dehydratedcoffeeaddict @viktoriaromanovaa @julz2000 @ahintofchaos @consti-ss @broimjustadepressedlesbian @rowiebear @crispychaosmaker @mary-20 @romanoff101 @alexawynters @dinno-nuggets @riddlesknot @marvelwomenarehot0 @mommysgoodlittlebrat @purplelandyouth @consti-ss @redwolfphoenix @imnotawitch @transparentflapfarmsludge @gaylorvader @inarayofmoonlight @macaroni676 @xuxxke79 @laserbeam473 @mousetheorist @doyouseetthewords @vanessashands

[upagainstthewallwithme]

Bad Idea Right?

Vampire!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Kinktober, Day 1: Love Bites. @flightlessangelwings

Word Count 980

You didn’t fall in love with her because she was different. But, that didn’t mean she wasn’t different. Natasha was hypnotizing. Her beauty and her voice made it hard to think when she was around. 

You knew you loved Natasha for more than just what she was. You knew it. But you weren’t quite sure why. It was hard to remember sometimes. 

Her voice was a lull. Smooth always, like a soft coating on your insides. Or a finger dragging lightly over your skin. Her touch could make your skin burn, always wanting more.

Natasha’s tongue was like that too. Smooth, and hot. The scrape of her teeth. Making you want her.

You couldn’t always recall the details. Like where she came from. Or how you’d met. 

But when you felt her touch. When her eyes held yours and your heart faltered, like a rabbit caught in the air. The silken feel of Natasha was draped over everything. 

Her red hair, catching the light. Natasha was a sunset, burning with the last embers of light. She didn’t care about your family, or the friends you’d had before. You didn’t blame her. You didn’t care about them either, not anymore.

Natasha was meant for you. When you woke up in your bed, every morning. The sweet aches of the night before were like a soothing balm. She’d been here with you. She’d be here again. 

You checked the time now. The night was drawing in. Natasha would come for you any second. Your skin itched with the anticipation. Natasha was like a drug that wouldn’t leave you. You tried not to think about her, but there was nothing else to think about. You kept your eyes on the dark window, waiting for headlights to illuminate the dark. 

Natasha arrived and you heard the gravel crunch beneath tires. Your heart began its unsteady pounding. 

Yesterday, she’d still been hungry when she’d left. You knew she was trying to hold back. She was trying to keep you alive for longer. She was too good for you. 

You wanted to cry, Natasha didn’t understand that you wanted her to have it. Your blood, your love, your body, your soul. They were hers already, what did it matter. 

You watched Natasha slam the car door shut. Her tight silver dress made her pale skin glow like moonbeams. She gazed up at the window and her eyes met yours. For a moment, they were red. You gulped and she watched your neck move.

You listened to her enter the house. You could hear her heels clacking across the floor beneath you. You waited for the sharp footsteps to come to you. 

Your body began to tremble and you shifted with the need building inside you. You crossed your legs tightly as the need began to throb. Natasha’s footsteps were now on the staircase. Any second now. You gripped the fabric of your bed. The door opened fully and Natasha stood there. She was centered in the doorway. Her loose curls flickered like hot flames. You stopped breathing. 

She was here.

‘What have you been doing?’ She asked, her voice low and accusatory.

‘Waiting for you.’ You whispered, throat thick with longing. You wanted her to pull you close. You wanted permission like a sharp pull of your hair. Her voice ran through you, slick like water. 

Natasha regarded you from the doorway. You watched her tongue run over the sharp ridges of her teeth. 

‘Liar.’ She spat. Fear jolted you, but the desperate longing didn’t stutter. You started to speak, but Natasha held up a finger and you quietened immediately. 

‘I can smell you.’ Natasha told you with cutting precision. Your cheeks warmed, the realization. Your thighs clenched needlessly, the wetness of your underwear touched your skin.

‘Oh.’ You whispered again. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘You’re needy.’ She accused again as she walked towards you. ‘I left here for you. And I come back to this.’

‘I’m sorry.’ You whispered again. Natasha ran her tongue over her teeth. You wanted to beg her. To touch you. To hurt you. To hurry. 

‘Come here.’ She said at last. Her voice was calm now, almost melodic. 

You walked forward, compelled by everything that made her irresistible. She smiled with barely hidden delight. Her sharp teeth caught the light. 

You wanted her. Your heart thumped harder, desperate to be close to her.

Her fingers slid into your hair. They tightened sharply and you yelped. Natasha’s red eyes were endless. Your mouth was dry. You wanted her so much.

You opened your mouth. Would she listen if you begged?

Natasha’s lips moved to the crook of your neck. 

The last thoughts slid from your mind as pleasure coated everything.

At last. At last.

Her tongue ran lower. She pulled your head back by your hair. Your neck was exposed to her. You stopped breathing and felt your vision begin to blur.

Her first kiss touched you just below the ear. It was soft and light, but warm enough to melt you. Her teeth barely grazed your skin. Your body was shuddering. The heat of her lips. You wanted to scream, but you’d forgotten your lungs.

Her tongue ran lower. She kissed your shoulder. Her teeth pressed your skin. 

Your knees tried to buckle. She gripped your side now. Holding you upright. You tried to stay conscious. You didn’t want to forget.

Natasha murmured your name. A breath gasped into your lungs. 

She bit the base of your neck. 

You whined with pleasure, pain mixed in.

Somewhere, somewhere. You went somewhere else.

‘I love you.’ Natasha whispered a moment later. Her throat was coated with the taste of you.

Her tongue slid back and forth over the bite.

You whimpered. You could feel the bruise forming with the sweet ache. Natasha’s grip loosened and she stroked your hair. You felt beautiful.

[infernalodie]

𝐀𝐥𝐤𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 (𝐩𝐭.𝟏) || 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟

“𝘐'𝘮 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦“

Inspo: Sleep Token - Alkaline

Pairing: Vampire!Natasha Romanoff x Black!Fem!reader

Summary: When you met her gaze, something in you knew simplicity was forever gone...

Warnings: Description of murder and mainly building plot.

Part Two - Finale

Words: 1503

DNI IF YOU’RE SENSITIVE TO WARNIGNS ABOVE!

Dust particles, bugs, buzzing lightbulbs, and cold steel bars. Tattered clothes, aching limbs, starvation, dehydration. These were all things that you had to adapt to. The conditions of your captivity were nothing shorter than torturous. All because of the damn creatures that lurked at night feeding on innocents that matched the right criteria for their consumption.

Vampires. Wretches that came from an unknown entity or power. Information on them was vague other than what the governments divulged.

You’d never encountered such, but you had known of their existence. It was a worldwide problem that the higher powers weren’t sure of how to combat. So, it left the defenceless the main victims.

But two days when you were taken, you made sure to put up a fight. Stabbing one of those vile creatures in the throat before you were knocked out. Now thinking back to it, there might’ve been some better ulterior actions you could’ve made, but you knew it would’ve ended with you in here. Locked away in what seemed to be a whiskey distiller judging by the barrels lining the walls and brick pillars keeping the foundation above standing.

The details were meaningless. You’d seen fellow prisoners be taken wailing and screaming, kicking their legs about like children in some false hope that they would get away. And when they were taken above the basement, they were never seen or heard from again.

No one knew what they exactly did. From the whispers of conversation, you could hear from down the hall, you knew the vampires were harvesting them. And when they were done harvesting, they killed the human. There didn’t seem to be a sign of them ever stopping either.

Pressed to the corner of your cell, you toyed with a rock. Digging the object into the ground, scribbling random shapes. But the sound of voices alerted you, lifting your head to hear footsteps approach. Shadows danced across the walls from what looked like candlelight.

“Miss Romanoff, you must understand that this is a business,” a man’s voice spoke. “We can’t just take one from the batch. We’ll be behind on our deal with the Director. He expects 20 that are ready to ship and supply to allies. Not 19 and a half.”

The source of the voice appeared from down the hall. A man with a suit that had dust and tattered sleeves was following a woman, two guards behind them. Their faces revealed for a millisecond as they passed a light fixture hanging from the ceiling.

You caught sight of the woman’s vivid red hair, resembling the tone of a rose. Her white dress shirt compensates for her chest with two overall straps connecting to her black dress pants and hooked over her shoulders. Black leather gloves stuffed into her pockets, able to hear the fabric straining from clenched fists.

The man skittishly following in tandem was a mess. A lens in his glasses cracked and his hair was unkempt. His suit was ruined with dirt and ripped with his dress shoes looked older than yourself. But his drugged-out nature did make you believe this was a man of ingenuity. After all, he was questioning the woman on business on the correct measures to take.

They stopped within the darkness, obscuring their expressions from your vision. You made no movement to change that, too afraid of what type of attention it might draw. Instead, you heard the woman, Romanoff, exhale heavily. “Where is the half barrel?”

“R-Right here, ma’am.” The man moved toward the wall and pointed to the one in question. “I highly suggest that we fill it with the remaining prisoner of the batch before we think of-” As the man turned to the woman, her hand wrapped around his throat and slammed him into the ground.

The sheer force of the impact made the ground vibrate faintly. The man choked, unfinished pleas slipping out through cracked lips. “Must I remind you Banner of who it is you speak to? Or shall I save myself the breath and kill two birds with one stone?” Romanoff questioned. Her voice a rich American accent that had a tinge of darkness to it, calling upon goosebumps to rise across your body.

She reached toward the barrel mentioned before and popped the cork, causing the liquid to spill out. Romanoff pulled Banner’s face underneath and kept him there. Gurgles of his attempt to breathe fall weak. His body thrashed and his hands fought at the vampire's vice grip.

You couldn’t help but cringe at the sounds, closing your eyes with your face twisting up in disgust. It wasn’t as bad as the many things you’d seen on the news or from the media, but it still left your stomach twisting in disgust.

When the sounds stopped, you peeled your eyes open to see the last three figures standing in the hall talking quietly. But your attention quickly shifted toward the stream of blood coming from where the three were standing. Its red, thick form absorbs the dirt and dust as it slipped beneath your cell door and invaded your temporary space of hell.

There was no stopping the whimper that fell from your lips. Rapidly attempting to stand to your feet, you accidentally placed the palm of your hand on the rock you had been toying with. Applying too much pressure to the point that you pierced your hand, making you hiss as you pressed your back firmly to the wall, holding the limb close to your chest.

But it was too late. You could hear footsteps slowly and methodically approach. A harsh chill clung to the inside of your chest as you stared into the darkness as the figure grew large and closer. Until she stood in front of your cage door. The light hung above you gave you some vision of her face. Her strong jawline, plump lips, and pale complexion. But her eyes stood out the most. They glowed a fluent red, much like her hair. Both were beautiful if you hadn’t known what she had done and what she would continue doing after you were dead.

“Y/n, isn’t it?” Her question made you shiver. The sound of your name rolling off her tongue was faintly soothing. Maybe this was just another trick or power that vampires had that you weren’t aware of. But you wanted to hear it more.

You wouldn’t lie to yourself and say that the woman wasn’t attractive. She truly was the definition of gifted in beauty. It made you wonder if she used it to her advantage. If this “business” she conducted was originally built on her looks and how her voice had some sort of hypnotizing effect.

“How do you know my name?” You barked defensively, but your intimidation was less than none.

The woman sighed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a vintage cigarette case and a lighter. “My men go through the belongings of the people we take. Learn who they are, what makes them tick, and if any of their family meets their standards to be harvested,” she explained. “But I went through yours, personally.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “Is it some sick and twisted turn-on for you? To get to know the person you’re going to kill?” You spat. “Well, you can learn this. Killing one of your men was the best decision I’ve ever made. I can die happily knowing they're dead.”

Romanoff chuckled, placing the cigarette between her lips and lighting it. The orange glow reveals her full face and her eyes staring intently at you. It was unsettling. You thought she would be rearing to rip your throat out or give you the same fate as Banner, but she just stared. She wasn’t giving anything away for you to act upon.

Inhaling deeply, Romanoff pulled the stick from her lips and exhaled slowly. “You mean, Rogers?” One of the two figures behind her stepped forward just enough to reveal a bandage around his throat. Eyes resembling daggers directed toward you as Romanoff continued. “It will take a day or two to heal since everyone under my command has strict orders. But I am sad to say Y/n, you didn’t kill him.”

There was silence only found on your end, pulling a grin across the other woman’s face. She waved her hand, saying, “I mean, we can go over the countless things likely running through your head, but I have my own plans for you, sweetheart.”

“Don’t you dare fucking try it,” you warned. “I’ll kill you myself.”

Romanoff laughed, tossing her cigarette into the stream of blood and clapping her hands. “This is why you’re going to be mine, Y/n. You’ve got heart, just like how I imagined you too,” she said. “I’ve waited so long for this day.”

With one last wave of her hand, the door swung open, the lock shattering. And you couldn’t get a word out before Rogers charged at you and darkness claimed your vision.

[dontsearchformyaccount]

soul

my hero .oh my savior in restless nights you were so near .standing far away never left my heart.oh fate , my darling. you gave me something to hold on to ,while all i wanted to do is let go. i will never be able to thank you enough.let you feel how you made me feel. like a never ending knot.pulling me together . all i want is you to be near. but in the end .you´ll never know.

[becomingvecna]

Arcana by Miguel Cruz

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober Masterlist 2024

Welcome to Kinktober everyone! This is the list and descriptions of all the Halloween fics I have managed to write involving either Wanda, Nat and, in some chapters, even both of them :)

All chapters include 18+ smut and something relating to the spooky season so I hope you all enjoy.

Happy Halloween everyone! <3

 All of these fics contain 18+ smut (so MDNI) and all have specific warnings/tags at the start of each so please read these carefully before reading. Some of these one shots contain dark themes so please consider the warnings/tags specified. 

1) Madness -Admiring your girlfriend tied up, blindfolded and waiting eagerly for you to play with the new nipple clamps adorning her body, has only one thing filling your mind: how to drive her mad with your touch, how to engrave the feeling of your tantalising lips, teasing fingers and torturous tongue in her mind for weeks. (Dom Reader X Sub Wanda)

Madness G!P Reader Version

2) Pumpkin Carving: Carving a pumpkin with your girlfriend was supposed to be a fun and easy task, well, that was until you got distracted by the sight of her toned arms and her seductive hands, unable to stop your thoughts from remembering how her fingers felt deep inside you. (Dom Natasha X Sub Reader) 

3) Trick Or Treat: Knocking on your neighbours door, you were hoping to receive a ‘treat’ from the older woman before her husband and children came back from their trick or treating trip. (Milf Wanda X Reader) 

4) What’s Your Favourite Scary Movie?: Whilst on the phone to your girlfriend, the conversation starts off innocently with favourite horror films before escalating down a more sinful path. You tell her how you wish she could be here with you, unaware of the small camera she had hidden in your room, watching as she guides you slide your hands under your panties. (Dark Natasha X Reader) 

5) The Devil Made Me Do It: After an unusual dream and the darkhold corrupting her mind, Wanda can’t help but look over at your form, soundly asleep, and wanting to make that dream a reality. (Dark Wanda X Reader) 

6) I Promise I Won’t Bite: Ending up in the Maximoff-Romanoff Mansion, you can’t help but be nervous in the presence of both powerful women. Wanda assures you that you had nothing to fear, that she wouldn’t bite, but the same couldn’t be said for her wife, Natasha, who’s smirk showed off her subtle fangs, desire evident in her lustful gaze. (Vampire WandaNat X Reader) 

7) One Day A Year: A girl can dress up like a total slut and no other girl can say anything about it. Whilst at a party with your two girlfriends, dressed up in your sinful costumes, the three of you find yourself on the sofa with a blanket over you laps, the two women intending to take advantage of the privacy and how drunk everyone else was, too distracted to notice how your cheeks flushed with arousal. (WandaNat X Reader) 

I have not finished writing all of these so I’m not sure what the upload structure will be like. My plan is to post the first fic on Friday and hopefully write the rest of them so I have them all finished by Halloween! (If not I will still write them and just post them as soon as they’re written) 

Let me know which chapters you’re most looking forward to! I hope you all enjoy <3 

[nikssm]

me when the person i searched up has almost no fics:

[hellokittyyyysblog]

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝓂𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒

Pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

Summary: A slow morning with Natasha ends with a surpising twist.

Warnings: smut

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌𓆩♡𓆪﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The early morning light streamed softly through the gauzy curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. You stirred slightly, the faint weight of sleep still lingering as you slowly opened your eyes—your head nestled on Natasha's chest. The rhythm of her breathing—steady and hypnotic, lulled you into a deeper sense of calm. Her arm was draped around you, soft yet firm, keeping you in place—not like you were planning to move anytime soon, anyway.

As you lay there, the world outside began its slow awakening, but within the room, time seemed suspended. The soft rustling of the curtains in the faint morning breeze mingled with the gentle hum of Natasha's breath, bringing goosebumps on your bare skin.

Your mind wandered through the delicate intricacies of the moment, savoring every detail—you wanted it to last forever.

Natasha, the woman who faces the world with unyielding resilience, who stands tall in the face of adversity, now lies here beside you, her guard lowered, her essence laid bare. It’s a sight that humbles you, fills you with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and wonder.

You cherished these rare moments when the weight of Natasha's usual obligations and responsibilities melted away, allowing you both to simply lie in bed together. She was often engrossed in training new recruits or whisked away on clandestine missions across the globe, while your own demanding work kept you occupied.

Over the past seven years of your relationship, this routine had become familiar, even though it wasn't without its challenges initially. Yet now, as you lay enveloped in her embrace, nothing mattered anymore, nothing but her.

The light played upon her features, casting soft shadows that accentuated the peacefulness of her expression.

The graceful curve of her collarbone emerges from the delicate neckline of the sheets, a gentle slope that leads your eyes to the subtle hollow at the base of her throat. You trace the line of her jaw with your eyes, noting the elegant precision of its angle, the way it frames her face with an understated strength.

Every detail of her is etched into your mind, an intricate tapestry of impressions that you find yourself constantly unraveling. You can't get enough of her—the way her hair falls in loose tendrils across the pillow, the gentle flutter of her eyelids as she dreams, the almost imperceptible curve of her lips that hints at contentment. She looks so peaceful, so soft, so utterly yours in this moment—that it almost feels like a dream.

There’s a profound intimacy in watching her like this, an almost sacred act of witnessing her in her most unguarded state. It’s as if the universe has conspired to give you this moment, this perfect slice of time where everything else fades away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet aftermath of night.

Every fiber of your being yearned for her. The desire to kiss her overwhelmed you, ached within you, begging for release. She was right there, so close—and your longing felt like a physical ache, a visceral need. You wanted her to feel how deeply you adored everything about her.

"I can feel you staring" Natasha's voice broke the silence, low and teasing—her voice warm and husky with sleep; whilst her lips curved into a small smile even with her eyes still closed.

Caught, you smile back, your fingers absently tracing circles on her skin. "How could I not? You're breathtaking, even when you’re just waking up"

Her eyes open, a glint of amusement and something deeper shining through the green. "Flattery will get you nowhere" she murmurs, her fingers playing with a strand of your hair.

You chuckle softly, the sound vibrating through the tranquil morning air. "Good, because I intend to stay right here."

"Well, aren't you sweet this morning?"

You lean in and press a gentle kiss to her lips. "I can't help it" you say, your voice filled with affection. "You make me feel this way."

She laughs softly, her fingers brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "I guess I'm doing something right then"

"You're doing everything right" you assure her, your voice sincere, filled with love and admiration for the woman lying in front of you.

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a smirk. "And here I thought you were just using me for my bed"

You laugh, the sound mingling with the quiet morning. "Well, your bed is quite comfortable. But I think I prefer the company and….the orgasms" you said as a soft grin appeared on your face.

"Smooth" she says, her hand slipping down to your back, tracing patterns on your bare skin.

Her smile softens, a hint of something more serious in her eyes. "Morning" you murmur as you move to lie on top of her.

“Morning detka” she says kissing your forehead.

"Hmm, how about we spend the day in bed?" you say placing small kisses on her neck.

She rolls her eyes, but the smile on her lips betrays her amusement. "As tempting as that sounds, im not spending New Year’s Eve in bed”

You nuzzle into her neck, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. "Fine, fine. But you can't blame a woman for trying."

"I suppose not"

You shift slightly, your fingers playing with the edge of the sheet. "You know, I think I might just stay in bed all day. I have everything I need right here."

Natasha arches an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "Oh? And what exactly do you need?"

"Well, there's the bed, of course. And the pillows. And this incredibly attractive woman lying under me."

Natasha laughs, her eyes sparkling. "You're such a flirt"

You lean in, brushing your lips against hers. "Can you blame me?"

As you pull back, you notice Natasha's gaze lingering on you, her expression growing more intense. Her eyes trace the contours of your face with an unreadable emotion, and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

"Stop looking at me like that"

Natasha's lips curl into a slow smile, her gaze never wavering. "Oh, so you're allowed to watch me sleep like a creep, but I can't?"

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, but you laugh it off. “Touché” you said before pulling her closer, your lips finding hers in a soft, lingering kiss.

Her hands, which had been at your sides, impatiently find their way back to your hair, pulling you further into the kiss—Your lips entwined in such a frenzy that escalated with each passing moment, harder with each kiss, as if time itself was slipping away.

It was the kind of kiss that stirs up a desire to go a little crazy—one that tells you to let go of control, of cold reason, and succumb to the moment. She was warm and soft against you—yet demanding, and her hunger matched yours with an eager tongue, a flame that set your core ablaze and made your head dizzy, that twisted your stomach into a messy tangle of butterflies.

She pulls back, resting her forehead against yours, her hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.

"You okay?" you ask—your brow furrowing with concern.

She hesitates, then nods. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking."

"About what?" you press gently, sensing there's more she wants to say.

She takes a deep breath, her gaze shifting away from you. "About us"

Your heart races, wondering where this conversation is headed. "Yeah? what about us?"

"It's just...sometimes I worry."

You lift your head to look at her more closely. "Worry about what?"

She looks back at you, her eyes filled with a mix of love and uncertainty. "I've spent so much of my life on the run, always looking over my shoulder, always fighting. With you, I've found something I never thought I'd have—a sense of peace, of home. And that scares me."

You feel a lump forming in your throat, the gravity of her words sinking in. "You're everything to me" you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I'll always fight for us. No matter what."

She takes a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. "I need to know that you're as committed to this—to us, as I am."

“I am” you say with a loving smile “I’ve been for the past seven years.”

Your heart pounds as she reaches over to the nightstand—she retrieves a small object, keeping it hidden in her hand, a small almost shy smile painting her lips.

"What is it, Natty?"

She bites her lip, a rare sign of vulnerability. "I... I've been thinking a lot lately about what I want for my future. About what we want."

You nod—confused, encouraging her to continue. "And what do you want?"

She takes another deep breath, her eyes searching yours with a mixture of fear and hope. Your eyes widen as she holds out her hand, revealing a simple, elegant ring. The sight of it takes your breath away, and you can see the raw emotion in her gaze.

"Marry me" she says, her voice cracking with emotion. "I need to know that you’ll be with me, always"

For a moment, time seems to stand still.

The world around you fades away, and all you can see is Natasha, her eyes filled with love and vulnerability. You feel a rush of emotions, your heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of joy.

Tears well up in your eyes, and you nod, unable to speak for a moment.

“Is that supposed to be a yes?”

"Yes, Natasha,yes, yes a hundred times” you say as you pull her into a tight embrace, both of you laughing and crying at the same time. In that moment, everything feels perfect. The past doesn't matter, and the future is full of promise.

A radiant smile spreads across her face, and you can see the relief and happiness in her eyes. She slips the ring onto your finger with shaky hands, and you both laugh softly at the shared nerves and excitement.

“Romanoff, huh?” she murmurs, her fingers tracing circles on your hips.

You blink, your mind still a little hazy from the intensity of the momen. “What do you mean?” you ask, genuinely puzzled.

Natasha's smile widens, and she gives a soft, teasing laugh. “Oh, you didn’t catch that, did you?” she says, her voice dripping with amusement. “We did just get engaged, after all. Or did you forget already?”

Your heart skips a beat as realization dawns on you. The ring on your finger glints in the morning light, a tangible reminder of the life-changing question she asked you just moments ago. You’re engaged to Natasha Romanoff.

“I… well, I guess I’m still processing” you stammer, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief. “You just asked me to marry you”

Natasha chuckles, her hands sliding up to rest on your waist. “And you said yes” she points out, her eyes twinkling. “So, technically, that makes you the future Mrs. Romanoff.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you. “I kind of like the sound of that” you admit, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks.

“Good” Natasha says, her voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper. “Because I love the sound of it.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips.

You grin, leaning in to press a kiss to her neck.

Natasha's fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "And…" she begins, her voice filled with playful affection, "I'm going to have to start calling you Mrs. Romanoff now."

You chuckle, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "I suppose you will" you reply, your voice teasing.

Natasha smirks, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think I'll enjoy that" she says, her fingers brushing against your lips. "Especially since it means you're all mine."

"Oh, is that how it works?" you tease back. "You put a ring on my finger and suddenly you own me?"

"Absolutely" she says with a mocking grin, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck.

"You belong to me now."

You laugh, the sound filled with joy. "Is that so? And what if I have some ideas of my own about who belongs to whom?"

Natasha raises an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Oh really? Do tell detka"

You lean in, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "Maybe I want to hear you call me by your last name again. Maybe I want to remind you exactly who you're marrying."

Natasha's eyes darken with desire, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Well, Mrs. Romanoff, you have my full attention"

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of your new name on her lips, and you can't help but grin. "Good" you say, your voice filled with satisfaction—"Because I plan to keep it."

Natasha laughs softly, her breath hot against your skin. "I wouldn't have it any other way" she murmurs, her lips trailing down your neck.

“So, Mrs. Romanoff” she begins, her eyes glinting with mischief, “what’s on the agenda for our first day as an engaged couple?”

You laugh, shaking your head at her playful tone. “Well, I suppose we could start with breakfast” you suggest, your fingers tracing idle patterns on her soft bare skin.

Natasha grins, her hands slipping down to rest on your hips. “Breakfast sounds good” she agrees. “But I have a better idea.”

“Oh? what’s that?”

She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, “How about we stay in bed a little longer? I think we have some celebrating to do.”

You shiver at her words, a thrill running through you. “Celebrating, huh?” you murmur, your voice filled with anticipation.

Natasha's smirk widens, her fingers trailing up your arm with a featherlight touch as she nods.

You feel a shiver run down your spine at her words, your breath catching slightly. "I think I like the sound of that."

"I thought you might"

You can't help but laugh softly, your heart pounding with anticipation. "You know, I think you enjoy teasing me a little too much."

Natasha pulls back slightly, her eyes gleaming with playful intent. "Oh, you have no idea" she murmurs, her fingers dancing along your collarbone, sending shivers through your body.

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Well, two can play at that game."

Natasha arches an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Oh, really?"

You lean in closer, your lips hovering just inches from hers. "Maybe I have a few tricks of my own that you still haven’t seen"

Her eyes darken with desire, her breath hitching slightly. "I'd like to see you try" she challenges, her voice a husky whisper.

You close the distance between you, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss. Natasha responds eagerly, her hands roaming your back, pulling you closer.

Gentle kisses become more irresistible as she makes her way further up your neck. Your fingers lace through her hair as she flips your positions— your back making contact with the soft sheets.

You feel your breath hitch as her lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. "Natasha" you breathe, your hands threading through her hair.

She looks up at you, her eyes filled with desire. "Yes, Mrs. Romanoff?" she teases, her voice a seductive purr.

"I love you"

"I love you—so much" she murmurs as her lips capture yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

Her touch is so light, it's as if she's barely doing anything, but the fire that ignites inside you as her skin touches yours begs her to continue. She leaves soft kisses all over your chest, slowly moving downward.

As she makes her way lower, the anticipation builds, every kiss sending waves of electricity through your body.

When her lips finally reach your inner thigh, she pauses, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Natasha" you moan, your hands gripping at her hair—"Please" you whisper, your voice filled with need.

Natasha looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire. "Please what?" she teases, her fingers trailing lightly over your skin.

"Please, don't stop" you beg, your voice barely audible.

She smiles, her lips brushing against your skin. "I’m not planning to, love"

As she begins to tease and torment you, your mind goes blank, consumed by the sensations she's creating. Every touch, every kiss drives you closer to the edge, and you can feel yourself spiraling out of control.

"You look so beautiful like this" she whispers, her breath hot against your skin.

You bite your lip, your fingers tangling in the sheets. "Nat..."

Her smile is both wicked and tender as she places a soft kiss over your clit, so lightly it's as if she's barely touching you. The fire that ignites inside as her skin meets yours is overwhelming, every nerve ending crying out for more.

"Be patient" she murmurs, her hand pressing down on your stomach until your back is flat against the bed.

"Natty” you whisper, your voice trembling with need.

She chuckles softly, a low, sultry sound that only heightens your desire. "So eager” she teases, her tongue running back and forth over your clit, working up a rhythm that sends sparks shooting through ur body.

Her hands grip your thighs, holding you firmly in place as she increases the pressure, each stroke over you sending you closer and closer to the edge. Your hands clutch the sheets, your mind spinning with the sensations she's drawing out of you.

"Oh god" you gasp, your hips bucking against her mouth.

Natasha's grip tightens, keeping you anchored as she continues to give you pleasure—her tongue and lips moving with an expertise that leaves you breathless. The rhythm she sets is unrelenting, each flick of her tongue pushing you higher and higher, sending your mind into orbit.

"Natasha" you moan, your voice breaking with the intensity of your need.

She hums against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body.

Her eyes lock onto yours, a silent command to hold on just a little longer.

You can feel the tension building, the pressure mounting until it feels like you might shatter.

With a final, deft flick of her tongue, you're pushed over the edge, a cry of ecstasy tearing from your throat as you come undone beneath her. The world dissolves into a haze of pleasure, every muscle in your body tensing and then releasing in a wave of bliss.

Natasha continues to kiss you gently, guiding you through the aftershocks with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. When you finally come back down, she moves back up your body, pressing soft kisses to your skin.

"Perfect" she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You're perfect."

You smile up at her, feeling your heart swell with love. "You always know what to say to make me melt" you tease, running your fingers through her hair.

"Well, it’s true. You are perfect."

You laugh softly, feeling a warm blush spread across your cheeks. "You’re not too bad yourself, Romanoff."

She raises an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her eyes. "Not too bad? I think I deserve better than that."

You smirk, your fingers tracing patterns on her skin. "Oh, you definitely do."

With a sudden burst of energy, you switch positions again, straddling her waist. "My turn" you say with a teasing smile, your hands resting on her shoulders as you lean in to capture her lips in a loving kiss.

As the kiss deepens, you feel a sense of contentment wash over you. This is where you’re meant to be – with Natasha, by your side, as long as your heartbeat ceased to exist.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌𓆩♡𓆪﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Note:

hello dears!

I stumbled upon this piece in my drafts and loved it so much that I just had to share it with you all! It's a bit different from my usual work because it's my first time writing smut. I hope you enjoy it, because I wasn’t that sure about publishing it…

On another note, I've been hard at work on the next chapter of "Love on the Brain." I know you've been eagerly waiting for it, and I aim to have it ready by next week. However, I also have to study for my last exam, so I appreciate your patience and understanding. ♡

xx

[incorrectquotesmcu]

Tony, to Carol: Who made you boss of this team?

Carol: You did. You said that I should be the boss.

Natasha: And then you said “Let’s vote” and it was unanimous.

Clint: You even made her a little plaque that says “Boss of Us”.

Tony: Valid points...

[fandomnerd9602]

Vampire!Natasha saunters up to Y/N…

Natasha: are you going to be good, malysh?

Y/N: of course. Anything for my mistress

Y/N exposes their neck…

Natasha gets close and kisses it tenderly…

Natasha: thank you but all I want right now is your love

Natasha pulls them close and kisses them, gently caressing her human lover…

[swaqcenix]

Vampire!natasha ripping off reader's underwear with her strength while she presses her thigh into their bare core. Except when the reader tries to move for friction, she bites down on the reader's neck making them bleed before sucking up the blood. Because according to Natasha there's one rule she has..

Natasha: "Oh darling, all's fair in love and war. Beside's I don't play fair.."

(I'm completely normal.)

[ahhhwomen]

The calm before the storm.

Vampire Empire

Part 7.1

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Well... here it is. I changed the graphic parts, but it's still violent. This was supposed to be a hurt/comfort chapter, but it just turned into hurt, so I divided the chapter into two, this is the hurt part... and I will try my very best to make the next one a comfort... Writer block hit me like a truck with this one so please excuse bad writing...

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death  Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 3k

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Extreme violence, slightly explicit violence, talk of torture, scars, violence against a child

Taglist

(26 hours before the slaughter)

“Come on pretty girl, I know you can do it, keep your head above the water baby.” Gentle hands try to coax you, pushing against the back of your neck in an attempt to force your muscles into action.

It’s strange, the only other times you have been in the bath is when they were drowning you, perhaps you enjoy this more. It’s hard to tell, you can’t feel much of anything anymore.

Her grip loosens for a moment and your head lolls to the side, foamy bubbles collide with your left ear, the earlobe barely having made contact with the hot water before soft hands return with full force to catch you.

“Hmph.” A frustrated sigh gets drowned out by the insistent buzzing inside your mind. The sound consumes you from the inside, eating away any emotion that slipped past the initial reaping.

A creak slices through the still air as Natasha grits her teeth together, white bone clumsily gliding against itself, barely missing the inside of her cheek. She has been hunched over for the better part of half an hour, but she can do nothing but uncomfortably shift the pressure from one knee to the other, her hands occupied with you.

Wanda had insisted they set you into a routine. So, every night Natasha was tasked with bathing you, though you weren’t making it easy for her.

As her rolled-up sleeve dips into the water for the fourth time while she adjusts, Natasha debates yet again if she should call on Wanda for help, but as her eyes drift over your empty ones, she thinks better of it.

Guilt eats her alive as she works on finishing up your bath and tucking you in.

Three days ago (96 hours before the slaughter):

A wet washcloth is continuously dragged across your forehead as Wanda wipes the sweat away, her fingers follow the path of the moist trail as she feels your temperature and sighs in relief.

After two intense nights, your fever finally broke, but you had yet to wake up. She is just about to tuck you back in when her wife’s voice rings through the spacious room.

“How is she doing?”

Natasha leans against the doorframe while she watches her wife care for you. The wood digs into her shoulder blade, but she ignores it in favor of keeping her distance. As much as the younger redhead craved to be near you, she was cautious to interact with you when Wanda was there.

After the fever gave them quite a scare the day before, Natasha came just as close to losing her life as you. Wanda had fallen asleep with you clutched in her grip after an hour of settling your shaking frame from a nightmare. After a while, Natasha attempted to remove you from Wanda’s possession.

She was merely concerned about Wanda’s heated body irritating your flushed skin, but after almost losing an eye to a sleep-deprived redhead, she left the primal care to her other half.

Wanda hums, her fingers stroking your hair delicately as she kneels beside the plush guestroom bed. As she rakes through them, your hair strands lay clumped together, loosening them strand by strand she soothes herself.

“She needs a bath,” her fingers move from your hair to your face, gently tracing your features. When the pad of her pointer hits a sensitive spot beneath your jaw, you let out a breathy giggle in your sleep, and Wanda can’t help the lift of her lips into a pleased grin.

However, her smile is quickly wiped away as a familiar jingle of metal rattles against your throat as you shift in your slumber.

Natasha hummed her agreement, unaware of her wife’s fleeting attention.

The layers of filth that covered you had to be weeks, if not months, in the making. She was aware that you got a weekly hose down by the shelter, but depending on when Carol loaned you out, you could very easily have missed it.

“Should I get one started?”

With a huff, Wanda nods slowly. Her irritation radiates off of her as she looks you over.

Natasha tilts her head, at her wife’s strange reaction, her shirt gliding against her cheek. “Is there an issue?”

The older redhead looks down for a moment. The sheer uncomfortableness that settles within her very bones is not without reason. Her skin is cold with prickles and goosebumps. Perhaps it’s a ridiculous reaction, but the significance of what she is about to do is crucial to you, she knows that.

However, as the filth and stench of a certain blondie coats itself around the stark leather surrounding your neck, she knows it needs to be done.

She needs to remove your collar.

“Her collar. It needs to be removed.” The words are sneered, almost growled, as Wanda wills the uncertain into existence.

Natasha stiffens, her clothes which were perfectly fine a moment ago now feel disgusting against her soft skin, every stitch piecing it all together feel wrong and patchy.

A collar is a safety net in the power dynamic between a vampire and a pet. It’s always been a part of vampire tradition that the collar is a reminder of good faith. Removing the collar, without the owner’s specific request, means punishment.

If you wake up without your collar, you will never forgive them.

“I will do it.” With her head hung low, Natasha closes the distance between herself and you, crouching down beside her wife. Her knees creak as she sinks into position, her hands reaching toward you.

The sorrow that builds and sinks within her is laughable. They barley know you, and you definitely don’t know them, yet the pull between yourself and them is undeniable. In a lifetime of grief, Natasha was hoping it could symbolize a new beginning, a lifeline of sorts.

Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be.

Just as her fingers struggle against the metal clasp, smaller, softer hands glide over her own and hold them gently.

“No.” The clan leader sighs out calmly.  

Natasha furrows her brows in confusion.

“But-“

“No. I need to do this.” With a sad smile, Wanda removes her wife’s hands and holds them to her lips, “She likes you.” It was the simplified truth.

To be frank, Wanda scares you, she can tell by the way you never find peace around her, even while you are asleep. You wouldn’t trust either of them when you wake, but at the very least she could lessen the burden that will lay on her wife’s shoulders.

With her tail tucked between her legs, the younger girl nods silently and raises herself into a standing position. The loose thread beside her zipper takes over all of Natasha’s attention, she refuses to watch.

Wanda removes your collar in an almost medical procedure, leaning slightly over your tiny frame surrounded by plush pillows and warm blankets, she finds the point of no return and she places her fingers lightly against your skin as her fingers work on opening the clasp.

She knows immediately.

As soon as the back of her ring finger touches your neck.

She knows she will beat Carol Danvers until she is unrecognizable.

“Oh.”

The leather feels rough and scratchy as she clutches it in her grip while looking you over.

“So that’s why she is leased,” Wanda mumbles in a monotone voice.

That finally catches Natasha’s attention again. With a curious glance over Wanda’s shoulder, Natasha falls void of any emotion but one. Pure, unfiltered, hatred.

Back in the day, rouge vampires had a specific way of marking their property.

They called it The Noose of Misery. A name bound in irony, a mockery, as they scarcely felt sorry for this sort of thing.

It was deemed a form of entertainment.

The noose of misery; was to slit your victim’s throat repeatedly, leaving gruesome slashes through thin skin. The first slice was always the same, they would cut the vocal cords. It wasn’t precise, nor pretty, it was merely a rouge slash against vulnerable anatomy.

Due to this, they would often miss their target.

Which would prompt them to hold down their victims until they were satisfied, it wasn’t hard to tell when they succeeded as their victims would fall silent. Or a form of silence as they attempt to refrain from drowning in their own bodily fluids.

The vampires found it most entertaining when their prey ran around like headless chickens, choking and gurgling on their blood, trying their best to scream for help.

Despite the intensity of this game, their food would rarely pass away from it.

A vampire’s blood has a certain healing ability, and contrary to popular belief, drinking the blood of a vampire does not turn you into one. Only a clan leader could sire a new vamp.

So, the youngsters would often find new and innovative ways to watch their victim suffer, and only when the life seeped out of their eyes like the blood did their body, then and only then would the vampires slash their wrists and force it down their preys partially slit throats.

However, even with its healing ability, the blood of a vampire is considered poison. The pain that would sear through you after consumption has often been compared to being burned alive.

That never stopped them.

The ritual would be repeated until the owner was satisfied. Then the last round of slashes would be healed with a singular drop of blood, enough to keep them hanging on by a thread, but no more than that.

When the nasty gashes healed to raised scars, it would be proof of ownership.

In 1898, The Noose of Misery was banned across all clans.

Wanda Maximoff made sure of it.

Yet, there were always those select few that never listened.

Given the scarring, you couldn’t have been older than nine.

Nine?

Nine…

Nine.

There is an audible *click* as two sets of sharpened canines force themselves present as the two redheads look down at the horror.

There was a difference with yours; the first slash was precise and professional, cut right through the vocal cords. It was a given who ordered it to be done, but it was clear she was not the one to do it.

Or rather, she was not the one to do the first slice.

That also explained why you were a less permanent commitment to the shelter. It must have taken place during the trial.

There is a trial period when it comes to buying pets. Some test them for a week, others for a year, it all depends on the customer and how much money they are willing to pay. If they deem the pet unfit, they can return them for half price.

However, shelters and kennels alike have a strict policy against marking their brand. If the pet is marked before being sold, the responsible party is banned from buying said pet, and they have to pay a heavy compensation.

That whore must have paid half a fortune to make up for what she did to you.

Leased pets are damaged goods.

They will never be bought.

Anger crawls like ants within the older redhead.

“And so, the war begins.”

Her expression is blank as she speaks clearly. The anger within her digs in deeper until it mends with her very being. She means every word of it.

Just as the last syllable was worded out, Wanda looked down to see your scared eyes staring right back at her.

There is no telling how long you have been awake while Wanda was preoccupied with staring down at the scars, willing them to dissipate before her very eyes.

With a sigh, Wanda pats your head one last time before you cower away from her touch.

It hurt, but she knew what would happen once your only line of defense was taken away from you. The redhead stares down at the collar held firmly within her hands. She wished she was stronger, that she could return it to you and pretend as if she never knew.

But as you both glue your eyes to leather almost as old as you, the ants turn into giants, a soundly crack can be heard as the dirty material is ripped into pieces right before you.

And with it, you too fall into a disarray of pieces that will never fit back together.

That collar was all you had.

It was all you were.

Without it…

You are nothing.

Nothing but hers.

“Romanoff.” A chill runs down Natasha’s spine at the tone of her wife’s calling.

“Contact the Thor clan and inform them that they have 96 hours to give over Carol Danvers or I will kill them all.”

The command was said so bluntly Natasha could hardly believe her ears. But as she looks over to Wanda’s hunched frame, her nose snarled and her eyes a dangerous glowing red, she breaks out of her trance and excuses herself.

She can comfort you later, but there won’t be a later if she does not obey her wife.

Current time (24 hours before the slaughter):

Wanda has woken up screaming in terror many times in her lifetime. It’s not easy to live as long as she has, to see what she has seen. The same horror burdens Natasha.

So, the older redhead has lost count of the timeless times her slowly beating heart has broken at the sight of her wife crying and screaming in her sleep.

There was nothing more painful.

Or so she thought.

What she could never imagine was how it would make her feel to watch someone attempt to sob their long overdue sorrows, only for them to flail and choke against their own vocal cords silently. Nothing but weak gasps and hoars coughs, the sound itself making her wince in pity.

Breathing through her nose slowly, Wanda has to close her eyes to collect herself before turning toward her wife, who carries an expression not far from her own. With her lip peeled back and her eyes narrowed, Natasha cringes at the sound of your tiny frame fighting the bedsheets.

As her eyes glue themselves to the nanny cam, she set up on their bedside table, Wanda thinks of what limb to start with.

Carol seems awfully attached to those claws of hers…

She is quickly brought back to the present time when a loud gasp emits from the speakers, followed by a heavy thud as you fall off the king-sized bed.

Wanda is on her feet and halfway down the hallway before Natasha can get a word out.

You saw more of the ceiling that night than you did the floor.

Your hands swipe against empty air. The sounds around you are like a cold hollow inside an unexplored cave. Nothing but echoes of lies surround you as you desperately try to grasp the situation in a literal sense. Like a zombie, you growl and groan as your hands seek the source of your misery.

You can’t see her. With your neck split in half, you would have to use both hands to hold your head up.

However, it doesn’t hurt.

Not yet.

So, you fight.

You are far shorter than them, Master is almost double your height, and the other lady isn’t much shorter. If you could just get closer, your hardened hands may be able to grasp them and beg for forgiveness. You can’t really talk though…

The side of your vision darkens as the blood gushes and pools beneath your feet. You can’t see it, but you feel it, it’s like ice pouring down your body.

Streams like rivers, split and thicken into canals, as they cascade down your stomach and glide down your thighs.

Like a switch-

A sneaking wave hits you, suddenly the adrenaline is gone, and the crash is horrendous.

Your knees crash into the floor, your body following behind shortly. The weight of your own body fights against you as you attempt to push yourself upward. With your hands grasping and slipping against amber liquid, your elbows give out under the pressure, and you fall into a heap.

Cracks of a weak child’s bones bounce off the wall as you lay defeated.

Soon, your mind and body become self-aware of your soon-to-be decapitated head, and you can do nothing but gasp and flop like a fish out of water.

It’s really scary.

The small hands of a nine-year-old child claw and paw at the cold floor as two adult women watch for the fourth time that night as a young pet watches Death seek her out.

They break your jaw open, then a wrist is forced into your mouth.

You are scared.

The blood hurts.

It hurts a lot.

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Aga-“

*GASP*

On the other side of town (96 hours before the slaughter):

Carol learned at a very young age that vampires like Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff think they are invisible. And they were, not a single creature, human, vampire, or otherwise, ever came close to breaking them.

Weren’t you just full of surprises.

A puff of smoke surrounds the blond woman as she leans against the truck. With one leg crossed over the other, her pants rustle against each other as she swishes lightly to one side.

Men and women alike continue to shout and argue in the back as they finish loading up their gear.

Just as she flicks the cigarette to the ground and her boot crunches it against the pavement, her phone chimes.

BabyBoss:

You have 96 hours to give yourself over to the Maximoff clan or I will personally slaughter your entire hometown. Including your fucking childhood dog.

Read 2:13 am

Rolling her eyes, a chuckle builds up within her.

God, you really are full of surprises.

“You ready boss?” A gruff man in his late thirties asks her as she walks over to the back of the truck.

Throwing in her own bag she nods. “Lead the way.”

21 hours. 54 near deaths. 198 slashes. 32 scars.

Nine years old.

(This chapter really wasn't written well, I'm sorry.)

Taglist:

@thinking1bee, @tobiaslut, @esmeseasle, @skittlebum, @tia-thesimp, @maximilfsworld, @leenasayeed, @scarlethexelove, @itsalwaysskorpioszn, @observeowl, @tekanparadiae, @adelareys, @anqyuicka, @ichala, @thalia-is-not-ok, @lovelyy-moonlight, @wandamaximoff-simp, @opossumking03, @confidant-thoughts, @delivery-bird, @esouliie, @geydumbbetch, @dorabledewdroop, @mousetheorist, @herwagonempathkid, @mommysfavouritegirl, @auroraromaximoff, @roman0ffsheart, @morganna-la-faye, @kaosrsing, @marvelwomenarehot0, @lizzieswife101, @og-kxsh-420, @chibilauren, @sgm616, @cyber-juipter, @falloutboy-lover, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx, @likefirenrain, @cole2907, @rahhhha, @taliiiaasteria, @dehydratedcoffeeaddict, @viktoriaromanovaa, @julz2000, @ahintofchaos, @consti-ss, @broimjustadepressedlesbian, @rowiebear, @crispychaosmaker, @mary-20, @romanoff101, @alexawynters, @dinno-nuggets, @riddlesknot

(Does it work when I tag yall like this?)

[unholyhelbig]

Would you consider doing vampire Kate again?

Title: Nothing but Weakness (Read part one | Read Part Two)

Ship: Female!Reader x Vampire!Kate Bishop

Warnings: Vampire tendencies, blood, dom/sub dynamics, an incident with a fork, power dynamics, mentions of murder, kind of mentions of trafficking but not really, night clubs, blood consumption, Humans as familiars, horrible grammar I don't proofread

[A/n: I got way too carried away, this is for all two of you that enjoy the vampire Kate Bishop series as much as I do. It's purely self-serving. I'm off to the South to deal with very unpleasant family matters so this is the last original thing I'll be posting for a while. Apologies.]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Canine teeth dug painlessly into the grooved marks in your wrist. They’d been tattooed there from years of practiced bites, carved from habit. While Kate fed into her unpredictability, she was a creature of habit at the end of the day. A creature that liked the warmth of you in her lap and the taste of your blood against her tongue just as much as you enjoyed the way her saccharine venom lulled you into a state of bliss.

Kate’s free hand dragged patterns up and down your spine in an act of soothing you. You weren’t bothered, nor were you in need of her comfort but you accepted it willingly. Craved it in a way that you didn’t want to admit. She smelled spiced and warm like an autumn day. Your nose was in the crook of her neck, and you felt so small curled up in her lap as she handled paperwork in the low light of her office. The same office you’d broken into more than five years ago now.

Sometimes, when she wasn’t plagued with hunger, you’d simply grab a book and read while she worked. But she’d beaconed you for something more tonight. She’d wanted you in her arms and you were hardly one to refuse her requests.  

You hardly knew how she found you crowded into her lap comfortable. But she never complained. Kate withdrew her teeth and licked at the familiar wound. She was a messy eater, but never with you. She even tucked your hand against your chest and pulled you closer. Timidly going back to her work without a word, just a last swallow of her meal.

On nights like this, you drifted in and out of sleep to the sound of her pen against paper and her breath flowing in and out of her lungs. While neither of you admitted it, nor did you mention it outside of the office walls, you both reveled in the close comforts of one another.

Kate’s cellphone ringing pulled you from the hazy confines of the moment. She didn’t’ shift you, but her voice rumbling in her chest nearly made you whine. You knew better than to move unless she moved you herself. Her hand came up to the nave of your neck, scratched the back of your head absentmindedly.

“Here? Well, I don’t see why you’d want to…” You heard the air escape her lungs. “They’re insufferable. No, mother. Not all of them. A select few but when they are gathered in a crowd as you are suggesting they become a pack of wild animals that I am hesitant to entertain in my home.”

There was a beat of silence. If Katherine Bishop had a beating heart you assumed it would be thudding wildly against her chest cavity. She’d stopped working her hand through your hair and had allowed it to rest against the small of your neck in a grip that stabilized herself. You picked your head from her chest and finally got a good look at the bite on your wrist that had healed back over into the dark etching of her teeth.

Another perk of being her familiar was healing with a speed unmatched. Living in time with her as long as she allowed it. She’d grown a fondness for you and showed as much as she gently grabbed your hand with a slight frown and kissed the mark lightly.

Kate’s resolve was cracking, “Fine. Yes. Whatever. But know this, mother, if you are to step foot into my territory, you must respect my rules and that includes my property,” her stare darkened tenfold as crimson eyes met your own. “All of my property.”

She hung up without a goodbye as she often did, and you didn’t probe her for more answers. It was better to stay silent and let Kate fill the silence save for the crackling of the hearth. She huffed something heavy and threw her cellphone back on the mahogany desk.

“It seems as if I’m hosting the Romanov and Murdock clans for dinner this Friday, I guess my parents penthouse is getting fumigated.” Kate sat back, stretching her arms over her head. It exposed the pale beauty of her own neck, the soft expanses of immortality that made your own heart pound. “In other words, Jack went on a bender and can’t be bothered to find someone to clean it up in time.”

“I could, I’m sure.”

“Mm, with your eyes closed and half your own blood drained. You’re shockingly good at cleaning up my messes, darling. I’d prefer to keep you to myself. If that means playing house for an evening, I think we can manage. Don’t you?”

The three families converged once every few months and often rotated between estates. Ironically enough, the place you despised visiting the most with Eleanor and Jack’s penthouse, so this was a bit of a reprieve, if you were being honest. It would give the woman less of an opportunity to corner you on your own turf.

Something about the constant revolving door of familiars made your skin crawl. The matriarch of the Bishop dynasty took every chance to remind you of how expendable you were. Despite the swift kick in the knee Kate would deliver under the table exactly once before a glare would be leveled in her direction.

You were nothing but a ghost to the Romanovs and the Murdock families. That suited you just fine. Seen not heard, ready with decanters of chilled ichor that had been bottled and preserved in cellars for centuries. You stood prim and proper and watched for Kate’s hand signals. For her distress. You knew when she needed her coat and when she needed you.

Kate’s warm fingers, tepid from her dinner, grasped your chin and turned your focus towards her. “We will handle it just fine. What’s on your mind? You can speak freely here, pet.”

It almost felt like a trap, but you knew it wasn’t. Not with Kate. Not after all of these years as her faithful familiar. Maybe within the first two, when she was hellbent on instructing you the way she wanted to. When you were even more determined to fight her every step of the way just to see how far you could push it. You’d both learned to cohabitate. To learn what would work.

It had turned from cordiale, to actually enjoying one another’s company, to craving it.

“There should be more confidence, being here in your home. On your territory. Rationally I know that. But your mother doesn’t enjoy my presence. At the last dinner,” You swallowed, wanted to look away but knew that didn’t fare well with Kate. Never had. “Mrs. Bishop knows that you are too stubborn to let me go as your familiar.”

Kate had an adorable scowl that betrayed her confusion. The slightest lilt to her head and jut to her jaw. The problem with being nothing more than a ghost in the halls was hearing things you were not meant to and keeping your mouth shut where it counts.

“What did you hear?”

“She proposed” You drew in an unsteady breath “she would like Natalia Romanova to barter for my services. Believes that you’ll come to your senses without me clouding them.”

A low rumble pushed past Kate’s lips. It was a mix between a growl and hum that signaled thinking. Her fingers dug into your hip in a possessive show, almost like pulling you even closer into her chest would mark you with her cinnamon metallic scent. Of course, it wouldn’t. But you didn’t mind the closeness.

“My mother fears that we’re getting close to a milestone between vampires and their familiars, and I can’t help but disagree.”

It was your turn to cock your head to the side. She’d often explain things about lamia history in bits and pieces. The Bishops were rooted in the south, and she wasn’t too proud of the fact. Old money that bred old discomforts. She’d curl up in front of the fire on the floor in the living room with a glass of bourbon, the two of you passing it back and forth with stories of her ancestors. The technicalities would slip past silver tongues.

“If deemed worthy by their masters, and chosen by the familiars themselves, they can be sired. So offered the choice. It seems that my mother worries of our closeness, that I’ll present such a gift to you. Though, many deem it more of a curse than a blessing.”

“Huh,”

“Huh.”

The heat never seemed to reach Kate’s nose, but you never flinched when she nuzzled against your cheek, breathed you in. A curse. Her warm breath on your collarbone and nimble fingers at the waistband of your sweatbands didn’t’ feel like much of a curse. Neither did the handful of gentle mornings that she graced you with over the years.

But then there was the bloodlust. The sharpened teeth and the bones that were picked clean by maggots that color of the moon. You’d witnessed enough dinners to hear the way they spoke of humanity as if it were a spade in a deck of cards. Something that could be folded and put in the spokes of a bicycle or played in a hand to win a few chips, but nothing more. Certainly, something less.

Sometimes, you’d dream of the group of people you’d met the same night you crossed paths with Katherine Bishop. She’d disposed of the bodies herself, but it had been the last time. From that evening on, it was you that dug the tip of the shovel into the dirt and took care of it. People who had families; mothers, daughters, brothers and sons. More cards and more decks.

“Baby, your heartbeat is deafening. I’m not offering up a thing, not on the pretense of sending my mother into a fit and certainly not to push you into one. But you’re not going with the Romanov’s. Not after I’ve spent all this damn time teaching you.” She nipped at your ear, chuckling.

“Right, right” You reveled in her good mood, returned her smile with a soft one. “I’ll make sure to remember my lessons.”

“I can reinforce them before the dinner party.”

“No really, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“I think it might be.” She moved from nipping to kissing a delicate spot right below your ear, one that made you melt further into her hold, eyes fluttering shut obediently. “Just to be sure.”

Yelena shed her coat with practiced ease. When the expensive fabric met your fingertips, it lacked the warmth that accompanied any human. It was for show, to keep her from collecting any moisture from the snow that fell in sheets from the sky and collected at the edges of Kate’s property.

She smelled pleasant, of mint and sage. “Thank you, rodnaya”

The younger Russian smoothed the collar of your shirt with her nimble fingers as if it were out of place to begin with. You enjoyed Yelena’s presence. The Romanov family were much unlike the other vampire dynasties. They were messy in the sense that they handled their business with a sharp edge.

Alexi laughed much too loudly, Melina rarely admonished, Yelena and Natalia bickered as if they hadn’t had centuries to settle their quarrels. If you were to be bartered into a family of lamia, you would comfortably settle for the Romanovs. If you weren’t falling steadily for Katherine Bishop and her horrible mother, you would willingly go with Natalia, should she have you.

“Do not tell Eleanor, but I hit her Cadillac twice trying to parallel park.” Yelena huffed, “We can both blame Kate, no?”

She patted your shoulder and whisked away towards the parlor before you could open your mouth to respond. You listened as her boots made muffled steps on the carpet, the influx in conversation as she joined the Murdock’s and the Bishop’s. You blinked a few times, shaking off the feel of her touch before hanging her coat next to the others and reorienting yourself.

Candlelight flickered in every room of the house, shading only the essential parts of the home. Eleanor had brought in her own chef, the same one that had been with the family for a few years on the recommendation of a family friend. Anna Ameyama, someone who was trembling the first time you’d met her, nearly slicing through the meat of her palm until you steadied her hand.

She worked with practiced ease now and her leftovers were the best thing you’d ever tasted. You often hung around the kitchen and watched as she cooked. She was the closest thing to a friend that you had. The other familiars, Eleanors toys, something she found expendable, were never around or coherent enough to form a bond with.

“Grab the thyme from the fridge and make yourself useful for once.” Anna mumbled, hovering over the stove as she stirred something with diligence. A light heat dusted her cheeks, tinting her pale skin a light pink.

“I’ll have you know I’m very useful, just not to you.” You winced at the brightness of the artificial light in the fridge. This was the fullest you’d ever seen it. Kate kept you well fed for her own benefit, but Anna was a chef of sustenance, and these were ingredients that you’d never heard of. “Yeah, which one is thyme, the green one or the green one?”

She groaned and reached around you. It was one of the green ones, so you were on the right track. “useless, absolutely useless. Can’t believe you used to work in a grocery store and you can’t tell the difference between thyme and lettuce.”

“I bagged the groceries for middle aged white women, that’s not the same thing as personal shopping.” You grabbed a serving tray from the top shelf, started loading it up with glasses that were so clear you could fix your eyeliner in them. They were chilled, burned your fingertips.

“Taste,”

Anna held a burning hot spoon to your lips, but you fought off the heat in exchange for a swallow of broth and bite of potatoes that was absolutely heavenly. It pulled a moan from your throat that confirmed whatever she wanted from you. She beamed at you, clearly satisfied.

You opened the freezer and sifted around the innate coolness until your fingers wrapped around the bottle you were looking for. Kate had pulled it from the cellar hours before, picked it by it’s sweetness alone. She had an incredible pallet; one you’d never question. You did not want to know the source of the blood, it’s clearness giving away it’s age.

Anna gave you a wary glance and swallowed thickly. She paled at the sight before she turned her attention back to the meal. You considered her lucky. She’d told Eleanor time and time again that she would be more useful as a chef than as a two-bit servant. Too many people would miss her. An entire restaurant that she had to run.

Evenly, you picked up the tray and walked into the dining room. Conversation was flowing easily. Despite this being Kate’s home, she sat to the right of Eleanor, who was at the head of the table, peering down at the rest of the guests. Melina, Alexi and Yelena sat on one side of the table. Kate, Matthew, Karen, and Jack on the other.

While you were used to being ignored, Karen’s startlingly red eyes found you right away. She was new. The promise of blood, no matter how old and exquisite, was tantalizing nonetheless. You couldn’t imagine the pull, the way Matt moved his hand to her thigh to still her. It seemed to work in combination with his easy smile.

Eleanor had been furious the second he mentioned finding love. With the secretary in his law firm of all things. Kate, of course, was overjoyed. That invisible pressure of an arranged marriage between herself and Matt dissipated, and the dinners continued just like they always had. Civil and without the families crossing lines they shouldn’t in a city that was much too big for three dynasties of immortals.

Still, you made sure to set down Karen’s glass first and pour the sloshing red liquid to the hilt to avoid any conflict. You were quite skilled at your craft, moving with a fluidity that only years serving Kate had created and once every chilled glass was placed and filled, including Kate’s, you tucked the tray against your stomach and stepped to the wall behind her, placing the bottle on the cart, ready to refill anything that was drained.

“You know, Katherine. A proper pet knows how to serve their Master before anyone else in the house.” Eleanor jabbed.

You felt your fingers tighten against the silver of the tray but kept your jaw from clenching. It would be far too noticeable. Anna came in with her own cart and you peeled yourself from the wall. Aided her in setting the food out with a diligence that demanded it. Purposely, you started at Alexi.

“Mm, when was the last time you kept one longer than a week? I know they do test your patience. Thank you, Anna. This looks divine.” She gave the chefs hand a squeeze in thanks, if only to quell the paleness in her complexion at the shop talk. You didn’t like the way she swayed at the talk of death.

“The girls got a point.” Melina dipped her spoon into broth, and didn’t take a bite. “I have not seen a single servant twice in your home, it may not have turned heads a millennium ago, but now…”

You’d returned to your spot at the wall now, Anna to the kitchen to prepare dessert, you were sure. Your eyes often watched the flames in the hearth. It was better than the floor and the patterns on the carpet. You weren’t meant to be privy to conversations as such. But you could feels eyes boring into you.

Natalia Romanov was watching you. Fern-colored and sending chills and up and down your spine with ferocity. Nails dug into your palms and the dryness in your throat was unmatched. If it wouldn’t’ draw too much attention to yourself, you would have cleared your throat.

“That was not my point.”

Natalia took a pull from her drink, finally moving her gaze. “It may not have been your point, but it’s a fair one to bring up. You focus much of your attention on Kate’s pet, but I see you in my nightclub picking out your own, only to seek out a new one weeks later.”

“Bad for business.” Yelena tsked.

“Perhaps this should have been a private conversation between Katherine and myself.”

“No, no. I’d love to hear this.” Kate leaned forward, a devilish glint in her eyes. “If you see fit to find your charges at Apex then might as well explain yourself to the owners.”

It was satisfying to see Eleanor squirm, to dunk bread into her stew and soak up broth before shoving it into her mouth without a hint of elegance. She tore off a bit with the canines of her teeth and chewed to think over her answer. No one else filled the silence. There was no need to.

“Well, how else am I meant to fill my appetite? Matthew, we’re from different times. Less civil times. The world is changing and while Natalia works hard to foster certain… impulses at her club I am well above that.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Mrs. Bishop, but I have outgrown my boyish days of bloodlust.” Matt said.

“Fine then,” She huffed, taking another bite of bread, talking around it this time. “Just me then, that craves something more out of those we bring into our homes? You all can’t sit here and tell me that your primal instincts don’t take over from time to time. That your need to kill doesn’t overwhelm the need to feast.”

“The world is changing,” Alexi spoke in that loud and boisterous way that he always did. Yet somehow it was soft. As if the socialites statement had knocked him out of himself. “I cannot deny that it is in all of our natures to tear the throats out of those lesser than us. But it is also in our natures to love those that are more fragile, is it not?”

Jack drained his glass in two long gulps, signaling for you to refill it. You moved quickly, doing just that. “Some might argue that fragility breeds weakness, yes? Katherine has had y/n for what? Five years now. That’s certainly a weakness.”

“Quite the contrary,” Natalia signaled you herself, passing you her glass with much more elegance than Jack had. Kate tracked you with a darkness glowering in her eyes. Never angry at you, instead stewing at the subject matter of the conversation itself. “I would say that their bond strengthens y/n’s loyalty. You’ve never seen Katherine in a scandal have you? Nor have you seen anyone else at this table face the media. We all have people that not only have to fix it, but want to.”

“I’m missing your point, Natalia. I can very well pluck someone off the street and force them to do my bidding.”

“Y/n,” Matthew addressed you directly, your hand stopping just as you set the glass down for Natalia. They used your name in passing, but never addressed you directly. Never like this. You felt ice in your bones, breath stop cooly in your throat. “Answer me this, had Eleanor pulled you from Apex as you were, would you heed her word?”

You straightened, hands tightening around the million-dollar bottle of blood. Right away, your eyes found Kate for permission. To speak, to breathe, to stir up some type of rich conversation. Your thumb brushed over the lip of the bottle and smudged the brown blood over the skin.

Kate leaned back in her chair, swept over your form with her gray stare. She held confidence in you after all these years. Not from the nights when the two of you were tangled up in one another. She held all the power, so strong and nimble with your delicate body under her touch. Not as your life dwindled between her jaws and tongue and coolness. She trusted you. Her nod showed that. “Go ahead, pet.”

“No sir, I don’t think I would.”

Yelena let out a bark of a laugh and held her empty glass to you. “takoy upryamyy. Not all humans are the same, Eleanor. You used to be one yourself, you may treat them as expendable now, but I find my familiar to be quite useful. I’ve had them for twelve years and counting. They are family.”

“I see I’m outnumbered here, even by the help.” Eleanor spat out like venom.

Kate scoffed, shaking her head as you returned to your spot behind her, flush against the wall. Dessert was soon served and distracted the conversation for just a moment. Natalia had flashed a smile or two your way as Eleanor glowered, the drinks switching from brewed blood to a lighter campaign. You’d rubbed the spot of blood on the hem of your pants, trying hard to wipe away the remnants.

“Give her to me, then.” Eleanor cut down the cross section of lemon meringue that Anna had set out. She hadn’t looked up, much too focused on the way it was congealed. “If all of you are so concerned about keeping two-bit humans out of my claws, I might as well have Katherine’s pet.”

An eerie silence fell over the dinner table. Not even the logs in the fireplace wanted to shift. Jack would usually dampen Eleanors blows with a bit of humor or rational. This time he was stunned into silence. His wife had a tendency to push things too far with you, but she’d never overtly suggested that Kate give you up. Especially when the ending of that trade would certainly result in your death.

She’d tried to get Natalia to take you, and that had failed. Poking and prodding at her daughter in front of an audience was the next best thing. She mistook Kate for being weak over and over again in the last five years. If she thought that the other families being here would soften the blows, she was wrong. You could almost smell it on her.

Eleanors’ eyes zeroed in on you. “Come here. I want a better look at you.”

Kate held her hand up as if you were going to obey Eleanor in the first place. It was a show of brawn. Her multitude of rings caught the candlelight, her other hand tightening around the handle of her steak knife. The chair creaked when she leaned forward. “Pray tell, do you recall the conversation we had the other week?”

“I have many conversations with you, Kate, you must be more specific.”

Melina stabbed the tip of her pie with her fork, entirely too amused with the conversation. Karen had followed the entire exchange on the edge of her seat. She’d sat through many court cases, could feel the tension amp up like electricity on her fingertips.

In a swift movement, Kate had plunged the steak knife into the center of Eleanors hand up to the hilt. The crunch of tendon and bone was drowned out by Eleanors scream of shock. Kate had nailed her to the mahogany with sheer strength. To her credit, she schooled her face into nothing more than a grimace after a choke of air. Kate’s hand didn’t let up on the utensil.

“Damn,” Yelena scoffed. Natalia elbowed her in the ribs.

 “Perhaps you lack the emotional maturity to form a bond with a familiar of your own but that does not give you the right to take mine. Nor does it excuse your pitiful posturing. We did discuss respecting my property in my own home, didn’t we, mother?”

“I hardly see-“

She turned the knife, another squelching crack. “Didn’t we mother?”

“Yes Katherine! I apologize for insulting your mutt, can you please remove your fine China from my hand before you do some permanent damage. We have an image to uphold.”

Kate’s eyes darted around to the table. Their image was upheld just fine. Jack had smoothed out his cloth napkin until it was creased halfway to Sunday. The Romanov family was thoroughly entertained, and Karen was savoring the last swallow of blood in her bourbon glass. It had gone warm by now.

She pulled the knife from the table smoothly, set it back in place and took a bite of her pie as if nothing happened. Eleanor tamped the bleeding down with a cloth napkin that matched the deep red color of her own blood. She glowered at you. Something that was par for the course.

“This is good pie.” Matthew commented, poked at the vanilla whip. “Need the recipe.”

“Mm, good luck getting that out of Anna.” Kate replied.

He scoffed, something nervous, something that broke the tension in the air. He mentioned Kate’s interrogation skills and everyone at the table, with the exception of Eleanor Bishop, burst into laughter.

The force of water kept your feet from swaying at a normal speed. You watched the blurred image of your own toes in a daze, sipping at a glass of whiskey and reveling in the burn. An odd mix of senses between the frigid night and the heated pool. The alcohol settled like a hot brick in your stomach. All of these sensations reminded you of how utterly human and expendable you were. It was glorious. It was fleeting.

The heavy weight of a blanket being draped over your shoulders pulled you from your lack of thought. You hadn’t heard the back door slide open, nor Kate’s soft steps. She pulled her shoes off and rolled up the legs of her pants before dropping beside you, close enough for you to nail her spiced scent.

“You could catch your death out here. Weather like this.”

You frowned up at the sky. It was easy to smell the ice in the air. Clouds were gathering and there was snow collected at the edges of the property, ice on the leaves. But the wind had settled. Your breath puffed out in smoke. Kate’s was much more sporadic. Perhaps if you stayed out all night with your toes damp, maybe you would.

“Just needed a moment. I’ll clean up.”

“Please, sweetheart. I’m not entirely useless. I’ve done that myself. Even scrubbed the blood from the table.”

You couldn’t stop the look of disbelief that you pinned Kate with. She was smiling devilishly at you, plucking the glass from your hands and taking a sip before grimacing. Whiskey was not her drink of choice, and it struck you that she kept it in the house for your benefit and not her own. Little acts of kindness that did not escape your keen eye.

“This is nasty, how do you drink it?” She thrust the glass back in your hand, took in your raised eyebrow and frowned. “Okay. Silent hint taken.”

Another lapse of silence before her raspy voice filled it once more.

“I would never let her have you.”

“Kate,”

Her hand was on your chin, not something rough, but something guiding and strong. “No, I need you to know this. For centuries my mother has gotten everything she wants by means of injustice. She’s taken everything from me in terms of manipulation. I’ve never cared to fight before. But that’s all I want to do now.”

She dropped her hand into her lap, her head falling with it, a frown etching it’s way onto her features. If you weren’t so close you wouldn’t be able to hear her. To smell the way the chlorine mixed deliciously with the blood on her breath.  

“She thinks you a weakness and perhaps you are.”

In one quick movement, with the same swiftness that she’d used at dinner, she was on top of you. Your back against the cold of cement and her hand cradling the back of your head. The glass of bourbon spilled across the patio. A gasp escaped you. She was warm compared to the nights frigid temperatures. Her knee was slotted at your core. Her canines glossed in the moonlight. She panted out in feral growls.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” Her groan mixed with your own as you arched into her. “I can’t keep pretending.”

“Pretending,” You puffed out, exposing your throat to her. “what are you pretending?”

She hid her face there, nosed along your jaw but didn’t bite. You wanted her to bite. Wanted the familiar extasy of her teeth deep in your jugular. Instead, you felt the wetness of her tears, molten hot. Your fingers bravely found their way to her hair, carding through them as you held her closer to you.

“You make me weak.” She repeated into your skin. “You make me remember what it feels like to be loved. And it’s all the more fucked because it’s by my own design. It’s not by your will. Perhaps you should go with the Romanovs, if not to break my relentless hold on you.”

“Your hold on me?” You scoffed, “Katherine Bishop, I don’t think you could extract me from your veins if you tried.”

She glowered up at you, staring from between your breasts with the petulant pout of a child. You swept some hair behind her ear. She clearly didn’t believe you, fingers toying with a necklace that she had given you a year ago with her own initials engraved in the purest of gold. A marking. A claim.

“Kate, you gave me purpose. I fought you tooth and nail on it because part of me figured you’d give up on me just like everyone else had. But you never did. Five years later and you still haven’t. Eleanor might see that as weakness, but I’ve never felt anything stronger.” Your voice had faded to a whisper, the affection in her gray eyes undeniable. Breathtaking. “If I didn’t want to be here, I would have found a way to push you too far, trust me.”

There was still doubt there, something lingering. Something that you figured yourself bold enough to kiss away. You pulled her up towards you, hungrily pressing your lips against her own. She was certainly stronger, but much more pliable in this moment, allowing you to lick into her mouth and savor the tinny taste. The sharpness of her teeth. You swallowed her whimper, the vibrations in her chest.

“You don’t have to pretend.” You pulled away, reveled at how she chased your lips. “I haven’t been.”

She moaned, grinding her knee down against your core again. “Don’t get so cocky, pet. You might have me wrapped around your finger, but I still own you.”

And oh, how she did. Your heartrate picked up at the very statement, thighs rubbing together. She heard all of it. Her signature smirk overtaking her crestfallen expression. The Katherine Bishop you knew and loved, and served as a faithful familiar may have been in love with you, but you were equally as smitten.

[mamaspidershit]

Peter: The nonviolent approach is probably better here. Natasha: I wasn’t going to use violence. I don’t always use violence… Do I? Peter: Natasha: Peter: The important thing is you believe that.

[ncsdlr]

Food Party

Warnings: its vampire shit?

Wandanat x Agathario x Reader

A/N: I'm a slut for blood and biting. sue me.

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The party dragged on slowly, human blood bags following their owners around, bearing bite marks on their necks as proof that they were not for anyone to take.

You, however, were among those who weren't owned. You were one of those who anyone could have a drink from. Currently, you are sitting on a certain redhead's lap. Her name was Wanda and her friend's- fiance's name was Natasha.

They planned to share your blood and have a drink, and maybe if you taste good enough, they could take you home. Natasha had her hand on your thigh as she sat behind you, her other hand rubbing along your waist.

The sting of a bite suddenly pierced the side of your arm, a gasp escaping your lips even as you continued to look into Wanda's eyes. Wanda grinned at you softly, one of her hands reaching up to your chin, gripping you there lightly.

"What do you think, Natasha? Is she worth bringing home?"

Natasha hummed against your arm, pulling away from you to speak breathlessly, "I need a second opinion, my dear. Have a taste."

Natasha offered your arm up to Wanda as she scaled her lips along the exposed skin of the back of your neck, pushing your hair to the side before biting into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder.

At the same time, Wanda gripped your wrist in her hand gently, pressing a little kiss to your forearm before biting into it. You groaned at the sensation, your vision doubling as the overwhelming sting of their bite took to your senses.

From afar, Agatha and Rio stood watching, waiting for the right time to join the little party the three of you were having. The two nursed drinks in their hands, breathing together calmly as they continued to watch the two redheads nearly drain you of your blood.

When Wanda and Natasha finally pulled from you, their mouths dripping with your blood, the brunette pair finally made their way to you three.

"You havin' fun?" Rio asked as they reached your spot in the spacey lounge area of the party hall.

You hazily looked up at the familiar voice, a soft and satisfied smile stretching onto your blissed-out face. You nodded at her slowly, reaching your hand out to Rio, missing the way Agatha leaned over the back of the sofa and pecked Wanda's cheek.

Wanda smiled at the gesture, looking into Natasha's eyes with a devilish idea in her mind. "Care to share?" Agatha asked.

Natasha then spoke, "This needy blood bag is for our taking now. Please, feed on her as you will."

At that, Rio pulled you up from Wanda's lap, setting you down on her own, making you straddle her. Death immediately sank her teeth into your neck, biting into your jugular carelessly. A loud pleasure-filled groan tore from you as large amounts of blood were sucked from you.

Natasha and Wanda sat observing, their eyes following Agatha's body as she joined in on feeding from you. Agatha's teeth pierced your shoulder, another moan leaving your lips as she did.

Yet Wanda and Natasha, even though they don't had one taste of you, could've get enough of you anymore. So they did want they thought best; they joined in on the fun.

Natasha walked around the couch and leaned down, bearing her sharp fangs at you before burying them into your neck where the once were. Meanwhile, Wanda settled herself behind you on her knees, caressing you thigh with a delicate hand. She traced the outline of your toned quads before diving into them fangs first.

With all the mouth on you, you felt like you could collapse. And you almost already were, given that four vampires were drinking from you like you had an infinite amount of blood. Your vision was beginning to spot, tiny little specks of back littering your sight as you simply succumbed ro the women's desires.

The night ended you plae and limp- nearly lifeless -as the four vamps decided to take you home with them. Theyd bought from your employer that night, and, luckily, they were in the same clan as each other, so it wouldn't be a struggle if they wanted to feed from you together again.

Good luck to future you.

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I was think vampires and then fell down a rabbit hole of what ifs so I'm dragging all of you with me^^