Please Go Read It

Please go read it

MIDNIGHT VISITOR - (Red-Stained Fangs 2)

Pairing: Vampire!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

Word Count: 6k

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

I have sharp teeth inside my mouth,

inside my dark red lips,

And lacquer slickly hides the claws

In my red fingertips.

- Angela Carter ‘Unicorn’

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

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

Or as monstrous.

Her beauty is a beguiling of the worst kind.

A gentle, innoxious beckoning.

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

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

They never see it coming.

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

……….

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

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

And she drank.

Drank til her prey was dry.

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

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

To satisfy a hunger of a different breed.

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

What does give her pause though, is her immortality.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She is drowning in the wave.

And then her phone rings.

Baby❤ is calling.

The wave releases her, and she swims to shore.

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

“Hey sweetheart.”

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

You, the one who was so achingly hers.

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

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

“Yeah, you know. Just a little.”

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

“Okay wait, wait, I wanna come over.”

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

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’m coming over.”

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

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

“Good girl.”

Oh, it was going to be a good night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…….

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

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

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

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

The night didn’t end there.

…….

Your voice pulled her from her flashback.

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

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

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

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

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

She was already hungry for it.

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

She was growing tired of the game.

….

2 years ago

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

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

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

You didn't even know creatures like her existed.

You were so naive. So delicious.

She couldn't wait to have you.

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

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

"Take me home."

She knew this game too well.

…………

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

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

Fuck, her arousal was dripping down her thighs.

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

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

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

“Impatient thing, aren’t you, baby?”

“Shut up.”

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

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

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

"You look so good like that, Nat."

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, you could never say no to that.

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

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

"Yes, I fucking deserve it. Please-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes flashed red, and you smirked.

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

"And what's that?"

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

"To cum on your tongue."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha’s smile was different then.

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

“I want you with me, always, Y/N.”

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

Always.

Always. Always. Always. Always. Always.

ALWAYS.

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

“Will you?” she asks. “Forever?”

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

A face of Natasha you do not know.

“How do you know that?”

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

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

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

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

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

“We have to make sure.”

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

“Make sure of what, baby?”

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

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

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

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

"How are we gonna do that?"

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

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

It took you a second.

Live forever.

Forever.

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

She was going to turn you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You see the look again now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, she is a predator.

A vampire.

And now you truly understand what that means.

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

This was exciting her.

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

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

You want to be with her always.

ALWAYS.

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

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

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

ALWAYS.

“Yes, Y/N, fuck…”

You felt her fangs as they grazed against your tongue.

No. This can't be happening.

ALWAYS.

"Just let me in, baby."

You felt afraid.

ALWAYS.

"Let me in."

FEAR

ALWAYS.

"Yes… that's it."

Love.

“You’re mine.”

LOVE.

WANTING.

NATASHA.

Always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then she bit you.

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

It was flooding the sheets.

And still, she was all you could think about.

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

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

And drank.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…..

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

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

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

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

“Mine,” she whispered.

You kissed her forehead.

"Always."

don't look at me

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