Cant Believe It's My Bday And Im Spending It Revising For Tests Lmao 😢 Anyway I Will Probs Have Some

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝

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the hotel on cadaver street blurbs masterlist

serial killer!natasha x reader

this is a dark fic: please refer to the disclaimer

summary ➞ “you act like you’re ashamed of me but you’re soaked through your clothes and it’s not because of the rain.”

disclaimer ➞ strong language, depictions of murder + blood, smut, possessive behavior, knife kink, dirty talk (praise + pet names), hints of power bottom!reader + service top!natasha, fingering

a/n ➞ nothing else compares to my love from serial killer!natasha. this piece of work is not to be copied or translated anywhere. thank you for reading!!! comments and reblogs appreciated <3

Natasha had never been one to panic. Or frighten, even. She was a sadist whose identity had been incised by years of watching her own innocence fall away from her until there was so little humanity left that she really didn’t know if she counted as human.

So, to put it simply, it wasn’t fear that made her bones quake as she listened to the high-pitched squeak that the hotel’s basement door emitted as it opened - it was excitement.

She could hear you stall at the top of the stairs and figured it was due to the smell of blood catching your senses. Her heart - assuming she still had one - pounded in retaliation to the metal door clanking shut and the creaks of old wood under your rain-soaked footsteps that followed.

Naturally, when your feet planted onto the cement flooring, your eyes landed on her. She met your gaze, emerald headlights flashing back at you in the dark. Then, as her hand circled tighter around her knife’s handle and knuckles popped under the pressure of her grip, your eyes fell away to the pools of blood surrounding her feet.

She was proud of the horrors she had committed. If you would have opened your mouth to ask her why she had done it, she would have said it was ‘for you’ or ‘in your honor’.

The shell of a man that lie limp on the floor behind her was cold now, lost of whatever warmth had surged through his veins only hours ago. But those hours ago, he had been a lonely shadow at the end of the bar who sat a little too close to you and let his hand longer a little too long at the small of your back and let his lips get a little too eager at the lobe of your ear as your girlfriend watched from across the room.

If Natasha was sane, now would be the time that she’d start spewing with apologies and excuses as to why she’d committed such a crime. But Natasha wasn’t sane; it wasn’t the first time she’d done this and it would take a trip to hell and back for her to apologize for anything. She was always right in her own mind.

Instead, she blinked at you with hollow eyes for a number of moments as you took in the sight of her and then her lips curled into a lopsided smirk. She stepped towards you with her knife raised at her side.

Your hand shot up in an attempt to halt her steps, “You’re dirty.” She scoffed your words, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she continued her voyage towards you.

“Natasha, you’re dirty.” You repeated in annoyance when her chest collided into your outstretched hand. The blood on her shirt was warm still, coating the palm of your hand in a sea of red and you frowned before using her suit jacket to clean yourself off.

She didn’t care much for your distaste and was on you before you had the chance to do anything about it. Her head fell into the crook of your neck to nibble at your pulse point, “You like me this way.” You sucked in a puff of air through your teeth, grabbing her by the swells of her shoulders. “You’re covered in blood, Natalia!”

She smiled into your flesh at the harsh use of her real name, tongue stroking up the side of your throat and flicking against the shell of your ear. “I did this for you. That bastard was bothering you and I fixed it.” You could feel the tip of her knife graze against your stomach.

There was a lot about the situation that should have alarmed you; the blood, the crazed look in your girlfriend’s eyes, the body that you were sure was lingering somewhere in the shadows behind her. But the blade carving against the bottom hem of your shirt was not one of them.

Clink. One of your buttons went spiraling across the cement floor as she cut it free from the fabric; followed by another, and another. “I did this for you.” She repeated, softened and low as she felt the goosebumps that she had already known would rise onto your skin.

“You need to be more careful.” You cooed as you finally gave into her game and your hand found it’s place in the hair at the back of her head, fingertips massaging at her scalp. “You’ve made a mess.” You gestured at the blood behind her and the footprints from the bottoms of her boots

She didn’t mind the mess, or bother to acknowledge that you had even said anything about it. She popped the last button from your top and let it fall open to reveal you the unmarked skin of your stomach. “So pretty, my girl is.” She hummed in satisfaction, the cold metal of the blade dipping into the valley of your bellybutton.

“Thank you, baby.” You cooed, stretching your stomach towards her as the knife prodded against your skin. Her stomach leapt excitedly at your silent invitation to continue before she moved the weapon down, carefully and erotically slow, until it was slicing away at the zipper of your pants and opening the fabric to her.

Her free hand dipped into your underwear and she bathed in the breathy moan you rewarded her with when her fingers parted through your folds. “You act like you’re ashamed of me but you’re soaked through your clothes and it’s not because of the rain.” The smirk was clearly painted in her words.

Your hand came forward and wrapped around her jaw, forcing her to meet your eyes, “How about you stop talking and make it up to me proper?” You encouraged, tongue peaking out to lash against her parted lips.

She shivered and parted ways with the knife, letting it loudly clatter to the ground in harmony with your shuttered whimper as her fingers sunk into your cunt. “Gonna make you feel so good, butterfly.”

Honestly I love this fic so much but I'm not sure what else to write- AMAZING!! :)🥰🥰💕

Kiss Me (With Tongue)

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

A/N: This is a Smut fic. It has a fluff sister story that you don’t need to read.

The birthday party started in thirty minutes. You were a 15 minute taxi journey away. 

Wanda was ignoring you, looking instead in the full length mirror that made up the middle panel of the wardrobe. 

You watched her fingers as she scraped her hair back into a high ponytail. The reddish brown hair colour of it shone under the bedroom’s overhead light.

Your stomach twisted with an automatic rush of attraction for Wanda as she focused carefully on her reflection.

Keep reading

Period Pains

Natasha x Reader

Notes: Made this because I'm in bed wishing I had a girlfriend to come cuddle me

Word Count: 1k

You can feel the disappointment settled deeply in your bones the moment you wake up. The unsettling feeling low in your abdomen causes you to sigh. It’s a frustrating feeling and you should be used to it by now. Yet it never seems to stop bothering you. You reach across the bed to feel for Natasha only to be met with nothing. She must be out training. You sit up slowly, hoping to ease the pain in your belly, as you try to wake up enough to go to the bathroom. Another month. Another week of pain. You plant your feet on the ground, hands pressed against the bed, as you push yourself to a standing position. You shuffle the few feet across the room to reach the bathroom. You reach under the bathroom sink to find a sanitary napkin before dropping down onto the toilet seat. You swipe at the tears in your eyes at the sight of blood in your panties. It shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn't be this way. Deciding that you feel icky, a shower is the only way to get you feeling decent enough.

You stand again, flushing the toilet behind you before walking over to the shower. You turn it to the hottest setting you can stand before tossing the panties and your sleep shorts into the nearby hamper. You wait for the water to heat up before stepping under the shower. You can barely stand and everything feels unstable. Your head hurts, your breasts are tender, your legs feel shaky beneath you. You make quick work of cleaning yourself, hoping to alleviate some of the pain in your lower back as the water rains down on you.

Natasha will be home soon. Then she can come and lay with you. All you want is Tasha.

You step out of the shower to wrap yourself in a towel rushing to your bedroom to put on a pair of panties and the sanitary napkin. You’re not even going to try tampons. No matter how many times people recommend it having something inside of you seems to hurt. So you stick to pads. It’s a simple step and you toss the wrapper in the trash. You avoid looking at yourself in the mirror. Everything hurts. You try not to think too hard as you reach inside of the medicine cabinet for extra strength Midol. The only thing that makes periods bearable for you. You pop open the packaging, pushing the pills into your mouth, before turning on the sink. You cup your hands under the running water to sip the water. It’s enough for you to swallow and you do so with a frown.

Giving one final glance to the bathroom to make sure it’s clean, you rush back into your bedroom. You dig through Natasha’s drawer for one of her oversized t-shirts. It used to be Clint’s but now it’s hers. It smells like her laundry detergent and it brings you comfort while you wait for her. You stretch it over your head straightening it down your body. You don’t care about pants right now. It would only annoy you to have the fabric over your sensitive skin right now. You crawl into the middle of the bed pulling the covers over your head. You just want to sleep.

You don’t realize that you actually do fall asleep until Natasha is brushing her fingers along your face. She whispers for you to wake up and you do with a whimper. The pain comes back at you full force as you blink your eyes open.

“Hey, J.A.R.V.I.S. informed me you weren’t feeling well,” She speaks in a hushed tone. Her brows knit with concern and she gestures to the tea and hot water bottle sitting on the nightstand. “I brought reinforcements.” She says.

“Yeah,” You whimper again tears shining in your eyes now. “Hold me?” You ask. You don’t care how you look. You’re in pain and you want her. Natasha doesn’t hesitate to crawl into bed. You lift, waiting expectantly for her to find a good position, and that’s when you notice what she’s wearing. A simple black tank top, no bra, and biker shorts. She must have showered when she got here. She pulls you into her arms as she lies against the pillows. She reaches with her left hand to grab the hot water bottle pressing it against your back. You flinch slightly before sighing in relief at your aching muscles fighting against the heat.

“You got your period?” She guesses and you nod against her collarbone. She kisses the top of your head. She knows the first few days of your period leave you practically bedridden. She rubs her thumb soothingly against your bare arm under the sleeve of your shirt. You listen to her breathing for a few seconds finding the constant beating almost lullaby-like.

“I’m sorry, Tasha.” You say suddenly. “It’s not fair.” You press your face further into her body clutching her shirt between your fingers as another wave of cramps hits you. She knows what you mean.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” She soothes. “We can try again.” She promises. “If you want. Only if you want.” She says. She’s so understanding. She’s always so understanding with you. You close your eyes, trusting her to keep you safe, as you try to relax.

Natasha’s hand that had been rubbing your arm travels down your body and under your t-shirt. She reaches just slightly under the waistband of your panties, pausing her fingers when you tense under her. You’re sensitive but you nod against her to continue. She presses just slightly on the skin there. Right, where you feel the most pain. She massages gently and you whine. Her touches are gentle and caring as she tries to alleviate some of the pain you’re feeling. It seems to be working as you feel the muscles under her fingers relax just slightly.

“I love you,” You whisper to her.

“I love you too,” She whispers back.

nat’s selfies >>>

Seera-Li Marvel Masterlist

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Natasha Romanoff

Show Mommy What You Got  NS*FW

Natasha your mommy, decides that you look stunning in lingerie she chose on a vacation in Amsterdam and decides to do something about it.

Warnings: Mommy Kink, WLW sex, implied age gap, reader has a pus*sy, reader wears a bra + panties, no pronouns are used for reader, edging, fingering, clitoral play, Natasha romanoff is referred to as Mommy multiple times, reader is called a sweet thing, Kotenok and sweet heart, author has no clue what Amsterdam is like

At Her Altar, As Her Worship Fluffy

Ever since your turning you have been succumbing to the cold. Your faithful mentor and vampiric 'mother,' Natasha would never allow it to happen.

Warnings: General blood themes because of vampires, Natasha gets bitten consentually on the breast by reader, reader drinks breast milk and blood, reader sucks on Natasha's breasts, no pronouns are used for reader, reader gets called little love

Speak up baby NS*FW

Mommy decides to test your limits. It will of course, be fun for you.

Or

Natasha fucks you until you cry.

Warnings: Heavy general NS*FW themes, presumed mutual consent, presumed safe word, mommy kink, use of a vibrator on reader, use of a strap on- on reader, use of bondage (ropes) on reader, reader gets breasts played with, overstimulation, reader gets manhandled by Natasha, reader cries from pleasure and overstim, mentioned edging, reader begs to stop, clitoral and gspot over stimulation, reader sucks on Natasha's breasts, multiple orgasms, reader gets called a sl*ut, sweet heart, baby and kotenok, Natasha gets called mommy once, no pronouns are used for reader, reader has a pus*sy and breasts

Naughty girls NS*FW

You and your mommy, Natasha, have some fun during movie time. Until you misbehave.

Mommy kink, man handling, se*x toy usage (dildo), implied age gap, reader gets penetrated, vaginal penetration, coc*k warming, grinding, thigh riding, sex with clothes on, WLW sex, Natasha gives reader neck hickies, Reader gets called puppy, baby, honey and little girl, reader comes without permission, implied mutual consent, degradation, squirting, light begging, implied punishment, reader misbehaves, implied rules

To be continued...

this is for the lgbt

yo dark nat. kind of domestic, not very serious, kind of dumb, but it’s borne of a thought i had. unedited because i’m lazy and thought you all deserved smth lolll

Keep reading

me showing you my romantic side: I wanna go grocery shopping with you

It's okay 😭 anyways ive been feeling a little sick recently which sucks because it's almost christmas

That must feel terrible, at least we're suffering together I guess lmao sore throat vibes🥲 looking forward to christmas? :)

Natasha: In February you’re supposed to be in the house, violently moisturising, punching the window to threaten the plow. Nobody smiles in February!!

(Bonus)

Wanda: What’s wrong with her?

Y/N: She’s cold.

Wanda: But she’s Russian-?

Y/N: Don’t even get me started.

Learning (To Trust Your Touch)

Taglist: @lynxwhispurrs

Summary: When an unexpected touch brings a realization to light, Natasha does everything to show her favorite person that it's real.

A/N: This was inspired by @missmonsters2's "Words Beneath Your Skin', a beautiful piece of art I"m not worthy of with my touch starved ass. I wanted to add my own little spin to it using my favorite assassin :3 Thank you again for giving me permission to do this <3

Warning: Open ended quote that might be interpreted as abuse. I'm not for sure, but just to be safe.

Natasha noticed.

To be fair, she is a assassin turned avenger. She notices a lot of things.

Natasha spent lifetimes learning about the human body. Where to break, where to shed blood most, vital areas that deliver poison faster than others….the list can go on.

She saw it when you visited her room. A part of the problem.

You were still new, not to the team, but to the compound. And even though everyone was mostly in and out on missions, your presence was very welcome to many.

Especially to a certain feline.

Liho was never one to welcome strangers, but your small peace offering of expensive canned tuna definitely made an impression.

Soon enough, you began to feed Liho, and her owner. Leaving small meals for both of them to find, and to keep finding you to ask for more.

You become both their favorites. And being a favorite of Natasha did allow certain perks.

“Found those limited edition chips you wanted.”

“Your shoelaces are untied,”

“Wanna go shopping?”

“I restocked the snack drawer and charged your computer.”

She pays attention as you start to settle into your new room. How you grab small snacks instead of sitting at a dinner table with the others, how you wrap yourself in a blanket when you’re in an empty living room. What snack you like best after a training session.

They’re small things, and to her credit, she was really just trying to say thank you for feeding them both. Thank you quickly turned into dates you thoroughly enjoyed.

It’s how you ended up in her room for the first time.

“I bought a few too many snacks at the store,” was the best excuse she could come up with, and she thanks whatever god there is that you bought it with that smile of yours.

Natasha’s room was interesting, simplicity mixed with sparks of modern and rustic all in one. Splashes of red and white mixed with shades of black.

“It’s pretty,”

Natasha gives you the smallest of smiles, genuine and true. “Thank you.”

Her bed is even softer. The mattress invites you, and you immediately burrow into the blankets like it’s second nature.

Meow

Liho follows suit after you open up your bag of potato chips and nestles in a spot close to you, and that night black tail swaying in pure bliss.

Then it happens.

Natasha looks at you, green eyes spotting remnants of chips resting against the corner of your lips. It doesn’t bother her, quite the contrary, you look absolutely adorable.

She brings it to your attention with a small chuckle, and hovers a finger over her face to point out the crumbs. Your focus on the movie, and perhaps looking a little too much at Natasha’s eyes and not her cue for you to wipe your face makes you brush away the opposite cheek.

A laugh escapes, and you wonder what’s so funny before she takes action herself.

Then she sees something.

How your eyes widened when you felt it. Hearing your heartbeat damn near thump out of your chest. Seeing the muscles tense up at the exact spot where the assassins hand brushes against your cheek. Feeling your face heat up at the intention, or even the very contact itself.

It’s how Natasha has her epiphany.

That you weren’t comfortable.

-

No childhood was ever really perfect, but coming to the root of it…was it really even normal?

Sure, your parents maybe made a few mistakes, but they gave you something, they gave you life. That’s probably the best gift they could give you. You didn’t need affection.

Right?

The memory of last night comes, how she…did that. Touched you. Lingering for only a few moments to the point where you thought you saw trees in those forest eyes of hers.

You look away from it, and she retracts, eyes quickly turning apologetic before you excuse yourself..

God…gardening was supposed to relax you. Not reminding you of the memory of a touch setting you off.

You gingerly touch the potting soil you laid out, placing a little in your hands and gauging the rich dirt. It’s not like grass, rooted to the ground. It’s flexible, vulnerable and-

Meow?

“Liho?”

You dust your hands off, and allow them to hover over the feline. You feel like a ghost, so close to her, but yet-

“Your momma must be mad at me, hm?”

Meow

“I know…not the smartest move to avoid her.” You allow your fingertips to ghost over the fur slowly. “I just…”

Liho makes an effort to listen. To stay as a friend, as a ear to listen.

“I don’t know.”

It’s an honest answer. One that makes Natasha’s heart break a little inside as she waits for you to finish your session with Liho.

She thinks about it for a moment, as she makes her presence known after you stop talking. A small wave and a soft “Hello” before she scoops liho in her arms and away from you.

The words slip out before you can think.

“Please…wait.”

Natasha stands still, liho jumping out of her arms in an instant and running back to your side. Natasha looks to the empty spot next to you in the green house, and when she looks at you this time, it’s different.

You see her ask. Green eyes waiting, despite everything inside her wanting to embrace and comfort you, for permission to get close to you.

You nod, and it’s the best decision you made today when you see her get comfortable on the ground.

“I’m sorry.” She starts. “I never meant to make you feel like I was going to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”

She feels like it’s her fault. For making you like this, so scared of this, of-

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her eyebrows knit together, and she frowns as Liho makes her way to the redhead and nuzzles her thigh.

“What happened yesterday? Did I make you feel uncomfortable?”

You place your hands on your lap, the texture of your blue jeans giving some imitation of stimulation. The feeling is awkward and does little to ease your nerves, it’s baffling that jeans don’t have any other purpose than being expensive, but Natasha’s hand makes you stop.

Her hand is right in front of you. The early afternoon sunshine rests on her palm, extending towards you. She makes a conscious effort not to touch any part of your body, no matter what this urge is consuming her from the inside out.

Natasha only looks at you, and keeps her hand extended.

It’s another question.

I want to understand…please talk to me.

You take her hand, and allow your fingers to trace the lines on her palm before taking another step to full on hand-holding.

“It’s not you.” You shake your head. “Never you.”

She’s relieved, and quietly thanks a god as she looks at you. As she searches for those answers with you.

“I just…it felt so…different.”

She quirks an eyebrow at that. Before gently squeezing your hand. “Different how?”

“It felt…” You bit your lower lip in thought.

So soft, and gentle…how the warmth of her fingers rested on your cheek, her thumb swiping away the crumbs, how you felt so safe keeping eye contact with her when those few seconds felt like an eternity.

It felt like you wanted so much more of it. That..that touch.

But it’s wrong, in your mind.

It’s wrong to yourself to yearn for that feeling, to want it and to never let it go. To cherish its warmth like a fire on a cold winters day.

You find yourself not answering it. That feeling that keeps yelling at you to indulge in it.

“It felt so…new.” You explained. “Like it wasn’t going to leave. Like it was safe.”

Natasha nods. “Did it ever feel safe before?”

She waits for your answer, and feels the warmth of your hand slip away from her.

“Not everyone is like you,” You whisper. “Not everyone is good.”

She gets it.

-

Natasha never felt like this.

So determined, so hellbent on showing you something you’ve been denied for so long.

Take it slow, she reminds herself.

Natasha starts small. Hand and eye contact. A good start.

You see her extend her hand like she’s did in the green house during breakfast oneway, her forest orbs looking at you with that question.

Do you want this? It's okay if you don't.

Your decision is like that game show with the music for the final question. You’re over and under-thinking, worrying and doubting.

But she stays still and true.

You take her hand as many times as she extends it, and every decision getting just a little shorter than the last. She sees you start to intertwine your fingers with hers eventually, and the eye contact remains through it all.

You find yourself looking at her eyes so much. Sometimes it’s to check if she changed her mind, or if you did something wrong. But she brings you back with those green eyes of hers, an affirmation that it’s okay.

You're safe with me

She builds a foundation this way. Natasha slowly starts to stay a little longer by your side, she finds you starting to look for that feeling. She builds from hand holding, to sparring together, and from that, hugging.

She loves it when she gets to hug you.

The feeling of safety always washes over you when she wraps her arms around you, like she doesn’t want to let go. The subtle squeeze she gives you proved her point when Bucky called her out on it.

She didn’t want to let go. She never does.

Natasha slowly and consistently continues to build that foundation, and takes it at your pace. She’s patient, and attentive.

It gets longer, the contact.

You start to hold Liho for longer periods of time as Natasha sits next to you when you watch movies. Your fingers grazing over her fur as the assassin watches with adoration.

Hugs quickly became late night cuddling, and god it was heaven for you both.

You allowed yourself to initiate small touches. Brief hugs with the team as a greeting whenever in passing, high fives when Bucky says something funny at lunch, actually going to lunch instead of hiding in your room.

You became a permanent guest at Natasha’s bed, and you began sitting a tiny bit closer to her every time. Sometimes you’d lay on her lap as she braided your hair, others would be more comfortable sitting positions if anything else.

She sees a shift of sorts when you’re in bed with her one night.

The television show was long forgotten about ten minutes into the series, and she sees your crinkled brow under the covers. You’re not frustrated, far from it actually, and she’s relieved when she hears your heartbeat is steady.

Your body moves on its own accord. Gently shifting your position to sit up. Natasha immediately locks eyes with you, and turns down the volume with her other hand.

“Can you hold me?”

Her answer is a smile, and her eyes softening before meeting your own.

"May I?' She asks.

You give a nod, before she adjusts herself. Her movements aren’t as quick as her reflexes, she gives you the opportunity to see everything she’s doing, and the power to stop this.

You feel her hands brush against your sleep shirt, the warmth leaving as soon as it came. Her movements stop, as she gives you a moment to take in the result of her ministrations.

She’s under you, so many strands of red hair you try not count splayed all over her pillows, her hands hovering over the small of your back. Her eyes never leaving yours for a second.

“Is this-“

Her breath hitches when you take the initiative. Your hands find hers like your life depends on it, and she feels your body relax under her when you find the missing piece.

You see her look at you, and there’s something different about her.

You're beautiful

You both move in sync, you reach down as she rises to connect your foreheads together.

“How does this feel?”

Natasha’s voice is a mere whisper in the dimly illuminated room. Her raspy tone is prominent, calming, and intoxicating all at the same time. Hands ghost against your waist, holding you steady.

You lean in closer, your lips inches apart from hers.

“It feels like you..”

It does, everything feels like Natasha. From the way she holds you, to how she’s kissing you right now in this moment.

Her lips are velvet against yours, full of devotion, and adoration just for you. You take it all in, you feel it all in the kiss, and it’s euphoric.

It feels so…good, and warm, and soft and safe.

And you never want it to stop feeling this way.

You both pull away, and Natasha gives you a different smile, one that’s like the sun.

“It’s real…” she whispers incredulously. “This is real.”

“It is.” You whisper

It truly is.

You both find each other’s hands, and press your foreheads together.

Natasha squeezes, ever so softly.

“It’s always real when I’m with you”