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ahhhwomen · 9 months ago

Text

I don’t know why I bite.

Vampire Empire

Part 1

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

A/N: We are going to ignore how long I disappeared, okay thank you. Also, y/n will not be in a proper relationship with the girls, she will very much be viewed and treated like a pet not a partner, but she will obvi still get the love.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

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 (later on)Minors DNI 18+

Summary: Your Master is a cruel woman, but you would never stand a chance against her, but what if they can?

Word Count: 3.5k

The keys jingle in a pattern.

With each step, the clash of metal calls out. It changes tune, depending on the day. If she’s tired, she drags her feet, it’s a slower melody. When she’s angry, there is a harshness to the smashing of the chain against her belt and a thud to her heavy boots.

You don’t know what her happy steps are, you think the sound would be smooth. Maybe, like she´s floating?

You wonder if you are ever going to hear it? If you are being honest with yourself, you don’t really know if you want to. At least her other behaviors are predictable, you can handle predictable, uncertainty however, that is an entirely different game. Not one you are very keen on playing.

Today, her steps boom like thunder, and her keys shriek like lighting.

Chills run down your spine; you press against the cold concrete wall. It scratches your skin. You press harder and cower closer.

You are shaking as she sweeps around the corner of your prison; she’s frowning today.

But…?

It hurts.

From yesterday. It still hurts.

She always gives you a day.

It still hurts.

You need a day.

It doesn't matter. You know you can’t stop it.

You close your eyes and submerge yourself in the void. You don’t like the dark, but she doesn't like it when you see.

Your cage opens with a shriek. You flinch as she touches your face, she is breathing down your neck and you feel yourself panic as she struggles with your collar.

It's never good when she takes away your collar.

Before you do something stupid, like fight back, a soothing voice guides you. It’s a whisper, that only you can hear. Drag in slow breaths, in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Rinse and repeat. You do as they tell you.

You're in a sunflower field.

The heavy feeling in your stomach is from the big dinner you had, half an hour earlier.

The sun is setting, and you are smiling and laughing as you run through the field of flowers. They're ginormous, almost bigger than you. There is a weight to them as you push past. They scratch and irritate, but it's only temporary, so you keep laughing to yourself.

There is a whip to the wind, the sound loud and frightening. The flowers are louder, so you pretend not to hear. They rustle and dance in the harsh wind.

It's dark, but the yellow glow of plant life guides you. You don’t know where you are running to, maybe home, maybe the ocean. It matters not. You are happy, just you and the flowers.

When the wind calms and the sun peaks over the horizon you know it’s time to leave.

You trek through the soil and ignore the sharp stones that prick your pale skin, you wish you could stay, but it’s time to return.

You open your eyes when she leaves. She almost killed you today.

It's okay.

You deserved it.

Tomorrow, you rest.

Maybe.

Natasha smirks over the rim of her whisky glass. One would think the blonde would be professional after almost a century of doing business, yet she still stomps around like a child throwing a tantrum when she doesn't get it her way. The redhead almost feels bad for the poor pet that was going to be at the end of Carol's rath tonight, almost.

“Knock, knock.” Wanda stands in the doorway, her knuckles lightly tapping against the dark oak.

She’s dressed modern today. Her suit is fitted to perfection, it hugs her waist and expands her hips. She also went for a smokey makeup look, her eyeshadow a mix of dark brown and black, her lips a deep amber, just like her suit.

If attraction could kill Natasha would be one dead woman.

She smiles at her wife before signaling her in with a wave. She’s surprised to see Wanda, her wife comes by occasionally, and she has always dressed nicely, but this is new. Due to her desk stealing her view, Natasha can't see, but she can hear her wife's high heels as she passes through the threshold. Same color as the suit she imagines.

“What brings you here?” Natasha questions as she pours her wife a drink.

Wanda settles herself in the plush chair in front of her wife before bothering to answer. “Do I need a reason lovely? Maybe I just want to see my beautiful wife in her place of work.” Wanda grins while the other redhead hands her a glass of whiskey. Neat, just how she likes it.

Natasha scans her wife with suspicion, she wants something. She can tell by the way Wanda leans her body slightly to the left while her lips lift into a flirtatious half-smirk.

The shorter redhead lifts her eyebrow. “As nice as that may be, why are you really here?”

Wanda deflates slightly at her wife’s accusatory tone. She is right, of course, but Wanda was hoping she could butter her up a little before getting to that. Wanda will have to ask her out on a date soon and make herself a little less predictable.

She is ashamed to say it's been a while since their last dinner date, or movie night for that matter. However, it's hard to find the time when you have been married since the eighteen hundreds, and you both work more than any human would be capable of.

Which brings her to her point.

Wanda pulls in a breath, “I want a pet.”

Before Natasha can get a word in Wanda continues to ramble all in the same breath, “And I know, I know, we have already gone over this. But I'm lonely. The business has been slow since the Stark clan agreed to our peace offering. And while you are busy here, I want someone to come home too.” Wanda keeps her tone open and light.

She wasn’t here to accuse her wife of not giving her enough attention, they both knew that their different work would keep them apart, but while Wanda would spend long nights in her home office, Natasha would spend them in her company office on the other side of the city.

Natasha drums her fingers sharply against her desk, she wants to shut the idea down immediately.

Having a frail human pet would mean having a weakness. Natasha knows her wife well. She knows her wife will get attached, and she knows it will never end well for either of them.

On the other hand, she understands her wife's needs. Natasha spends most of her days in the office, working to uphold their cover, while Wanda spends her days all over the city settling their other business. Their schedules never align either, Natasha works days, Wanda nights. She has to admit, it doesn't sound half bad to have someone to come home to the few nights she can afford it.

Wanda is waiting with bated breath as her wife concludes.

“You have already set up the meet, haven’t you?”

Wanda gapes slightly but conceals it before her wife sees. She knows her too well indeed.

She slumps into her chair, “Yes.” She lifts her finger to stop Natasha from commenting, “In my defense, I was coming here to get your approval.” Natasha chuckles to herself.

“And if you didn’t get it your way?”

Wanda smiles bashfully, “Then I would go without you.” Natasha has to blink away tears from how hard she laughs, she is gripping her stomach, wheezing while answering, “I would expect nothing less my love.” She rights her posture and wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. She glances at her wife hiding her blush behind luscious red locks.

She can never say no to her.

Clapping her hands together, she responds. “Fine, you win.”

Wanda practically shines with mirth and joy, “But,” her companion eyes her carefully, nodding to confirm she´s listening. “I get to pick the name that goes on her collar.”

The other redhead huffs, “Fine, but it better not be something stupid.”

Natasha shrugs and her wife leans over the table to slap her shoulder in warning. Natasha smiles all the same and shakes her head, “Yeah, yeah, nothing dumb.” As much fun as she is having with this, she is a busy woman.

She runs her hands down her black suit, thinks of what paperwork to finish, and mumbles a question about when they need to leave while sorting through the latest update about their progress on Project X. Wanda, without missing a beat, states a simple, “Now.”

Nat drops her pen and pinches the skin between her eyebrows. Wanda shrugs half apologetically as Natasha fixes her with a hard glare.

Rolling her eyes, Natasha grumbles a short, “Right, we better get going then.”

It's been almost a decade since she has set foot in one of these shitholes. Nothing has changed, the cages are just as small, and the odor stinks the same, alcohol, blood, and fear.

Wanda shifts uncomfortably as they wait for the salesman to get his spreadsheet, Natasha silently watches from the sideline as he sorts through a mess of paper and fast-food containers to find what he is looking for. She chastises Wanda for not finding a better establishment. Back in their time, this was the usual, but nowadays they have far better alternatives.

Wanda leans against Natasha to whisper, “It was the only place by a few miles Tash, and it’s the only place we have time for.” Natasha stays unimpressed. Wanda smirks at her wife and tucks a strand of loose hair behind the other redhead's ear before discreetly licking the shell of it and whispering sweetly, “I will make it up to you.” Natasha shivers under the attention and the salesman grunts a weak, “found it” before leading them into the main hall.

The ocean swishes in the background as you lie on your blue, shark-themed blanket in your modern bikini. The sun gleams over your head. Your skin stings and you shift onto your stomach, you must have forgotten sunscreen again.

Nonetheless, you purr under the shine of good weather; you wish you had taken a book with you. Maybe next time. For now, you stretch out and lay your bare arms against the warm sand. It will be stuck in every crevice, but it's nice.

A light breeze passes you.

You suck in a big breath, it burns, but you ignore it. It smells of salt and….. salt… and….?

Ice-cream.

It smells of salt and ice cream.

You think you may stay for a while today. You might visit tomorrow, but you would rather not.

If it doesn't burn too much, you hope to sleep tomorrow through. After all, if you are really lucky, you may not wake up again.

This place is even more depressing than Wanda had anticipated.

She and the other redhead had been to a similar place a few decades ago, but this was just sad. Not even the potent scent of blood can get her to ignore the uncomfortable sound of churning, empty, stomachs.

If they lived in a different city she would have taken her wife to a more humane operation, but with limited time comes limited opportunity.

The male and female sections are separate, in the left hall she can smell the odor of young men eager to please, while in this hall she can see the curious and smell the fearful. The gruff man showing them around had introduced them to a few pets by now, but she had to admit they were not what she was hoping for.

There had been one pet she took a slight liking to; a young woman, in her mid-twenties, she was in the puppy section, an enthusiastic little thing. But in the end, she was a little too pushy for Wanda’s liking, Natasha hadn’t seemed too keen either, so they left it there.

The kitten section wasn’t too bad, but every time she thought she was building a connection, Natasha would step into the pet's line of sight and they would cower away one by one. She knows her wife is putting on a stern face to test the poor little things, but it was starting to piss her off big time.

Wanda rolls her eyes as the feeble man struggles with yet another lock, she lifts her suit jacket and checks the expensive gold watch ticking away, fifteen more minutes or they will have to come back another time. Given that this was the only available time she and Nat had had in a few weeks the dire truth of not getting a pet today was settling in.

“Here she is, now she's not much to look at, but since you wanted to see them all,” the man shrugs and Wanda has half the mind to bite his head off. Before she can do anything of the sort Natasha takes her by surprise by stepping into the cage before her.

Nat ignores her wife as she steps into your cage, she has seen you before.

You were Carol's pet, or at least she thought you were. But it seems you were a less permanent part of the blonde’s life. Your cage was different, it was slightly bigger, the poorly dressed man had said something earlier about you being a leased pet.

You look horrible. She is studying you from a few feet away and she can still see the horrors you must have been through.

She knows Carol is violent, it's why she has spent so long trying to negotiate with blondie. Their clans were never on the same page and yes, threats were constantly made, but this was something else. Natasha would never think the pathetic woman would do this just because she could.

She hears Wanda step in and gasp at the sight of you.

You are lying on the hard floor with your back turned to them, a rag the size of a hand towel barely covering your bottom. Your hands are stretched out under the lamp, the only heat source you have, you have been beaten to a pulp. There are deep lacerations covering you, your entire body is one big bruise, and dried blood covers every crevice of both your skin and even part of the walls. But that was not what caught either of their attention, no, it was the lack of life they could sense from you.

Natasha kneels a few feet away from you and studies you carefully. Her hand rests against her cheek as she tries to focus on your heartbeat. It beats, but there was something off about it. It's slow like you are asleep, but she can hear in your breathing that you are still conscious.

She tilts her head and talks off-handedly at the man behind her.

“Is she sick?” She hears him scoff but ignores it in favor of closing her eyes and trying to feel you.

“Of course not-“ He waves his hand, “all that,” he gestures at your body, “was her own fault.”

Before Natasha has time to reprimand the pig, she hears a crunch behind her followed by a heavy thud.

She huffs and raises herself slowly before opening her eyes and looking at her wife with her peripheral vision. “I thought we agreed to not kill anyone today.”

Wanda stares at her with empty eyes. “No. We agreed on not killing any innocent people tonight. As far as I am concerned, I am just following his logic, after all this was all his fault.” Wanda gestures at the dead man's body.

Natasha turns to her wife while rolling her eyes.

Wanda ignores her wife's sass and looks past her to take you in once more. “Who is she?”

Natasha shrugs and gazes at you over her shoulder. “She was Carol´s plaything, but I guess Carol never owned her like I thought.” Wanda raised her eyebrows in surprise and stared at Nat, “That’s y/n?”. Her eyes move down to you again, “last time I saw her she sure as hell didn’t look like that.”

Natasha nods and crosses her arms in thought, “well it seems Carol is an even worse owner than she is a negotiator.”

The last time Wanda had seen you was when she joined one of Natasha’s meetings a few months ago, you were a new thing back then. You had scars, but they were pink and healed, you were a skittish little thing, but you ate, you had some color to you, and you sure as hell didn’t feel like this.

You could feel their eyes all over your body. You hated it, you never liked it when people looked too hard or thought too long, it always meant the same thing. They were assessing whether or not you are a feasible option as a pet. You know you aren’t, you know they will scoff and turn their backs to you as if you disgust them, like you don’t deserve to breathe the same air as them.

You get it though, they are probably right.

Usually, such a thing wouldn’t bother you, you are used to it by now, but there was something about their scents that put you off, you felt out of place even more than usual, and you hated it.

You were too focused on pretending to be asleep to assess what the heavy thud against the concrete could have been.

Whatever it was, must have had something breakable inside of it as you could hear a clear crack as something bounced off the floor. You decided you didn’t care, you only cared about the sudden voice that took over all the space of your enclosure. Powerful enough to command any and every room, you know this voice. It belongs to one Natasha Romanoff, and suddenly the voice behind her made sense too. You had only seen the redhead once, but you would remember her anywhere, just as commanding as her wife, and even more scary, Wanda Maximoff.

If you weren’t scared before, you were positively shitting your nonexistent pants now.

You try to keep your breathing even so as to not show any hint of awareness, you have no idea what they could be doing here. Had Master sent them? Were these the last moments you would have, were you going to die in this tiny, claustrophobic hellhole?

You were panicking, and you know they can sense it. Feel it. No matter how many times Master called you such, you weren’t an idiot. You know what they are, you know what they can do, what they will do.

As you hear one of them take a step closer you turn into a stiff board. You stay completely still as you feel your lungs start resisting the air you desperately try to force into them, you have this sudden need to flee or to bear your neck and beg for them to finish it quickly. Right after the thought passes your mind you shrink in shame, Master will kill you for ever thinking of bearing your neck to another.

You can hear them pause for a moment as you feel their eyes on you again. You have been made.

You don’t know what comes over you, you don’t know where you suddenly find the strength, but before you even know what you are doing you are leaping towards the women, your hands ready to claw out their eyes if need be.

You know they are stronger, faster, and smarter than you could ever wish to be, but this is a survival instinct, nothing makes sense, nothing matters. And as you collide into a warm body and start ripping into it, to the best of your ability, you realize, you have no idea what you are doing.

Natasha knew what you were about to do, possibly before you, and as you crashed into her and started scratching and ripping at anything you could get your hands on, she realized that maybe you still have a chance at this life. For the first time during their little visit, she can feel something in you, it’s small, scared, abused, but there is a will there, a will to live, a will to fight. That is more than most in this bleak city.

She holds you gently as you rip apart her coat, tear at her skin, and bite her hands. She hears Wanda take an uncertain step toward the both of you, unsure of what to do. But Natasha waves her hands nonchalantly and asks Wanda with a calm voice to stay back.

Natasha understands that to her wife you must look positively rabid. You were in the kitten class, but you were fighting Natasha as if you were a fighter dog. All teeth and claws. However, compared to Natasha, you might as well have been a mite.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t pierce her skin, can’t topple her balance, you can’t win.

Your fingers dig into the soft skin, your nails gripping and tearing, but nothing happens. There is no skin underneath your nails, no blood, no sight of damage against pale skin. You bite the hands that hold you, and you can hear your jaw creek as you strain your weak body, but the skin doesn't break, the only blood you taste is your own.

You are scared, you don’t know what to do, there is no sunflower field to hide behind, no sea to drown in, you feel powerless, even more so than she makes you feel.

You don’t know what they want, you don’t want to die like this.

Even after all your effort goes to waste you can’t give up, you have to keep trying, you have to-

“Stop.”

Wanda looks at you with an unreadable expression, you look up in terror as you realize you can’t move your body. One simple word, in one simple tone, has made you paralyzed.

#dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #vampire!natasha romanoff #vampire!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader

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ninibeingdelulu · 5 months ago

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“I love you” ✧

Plot: Coming home after being away for a game, he realizes how much he love you.

The dull roar of jet engines faded into silence as Michael dragged his battered duffel through the dimly-lit entranceway - sheer exhaustion weighing down every leaden footfall after the grueling overseas exhibition match.

Only the promise of your embrace drove those rubber legs forward once clearing customs.

Simply picturing your adoring smile thawed the lingering chill embedded in his bones beneath those vibrant stadium lights burning so mercilessly hours earlier.

Because no matter how many towering accolades soccer bestowed upon him, nothing compared to the searing flame your love ignited within his once glacial core.

Pulse quickening with every shuffled stride across the familiar foyer's threshold, Michael's slate grays swept slowly in a silent panoramic - drinking in the subtle remnants of you scattered amidst their shared living quarters with a bone-deep fondness once unimaginable for such a self-obsessed prick.

There laid your threadbare sandals discarded haphazardly beside his scuffed cleats - an arresting vision abruptly grounding the blistering drive singularly fixated on fame and championships only twelve whirlwind months ago.

Until your boundless patience etched itself into his stony psyche.

Shucking off his own sneakers with a tired grunt, Michael pressed forwards through the shadowed hallway - only to be enveloped by the enticing bouquets of your favorite incense and bath oils still perfuming the stale air from earlier that morning.

Like an anchor weighing down each footfall in the richest, most indulgent sensory caress he'd been sorely deprived of over these past excruciating weeks.

Every path converged upon indelible impressions you'd steadily embedded throughout his once purely monastic existence devoid of comfort or fondness for homeliness.

Hanging jackets and the random coffee cup abandoned on that antique oak table you both adored for its simple, timeless charm.

A tangible testament to the irrevocably entwined lives you now shared despite his former staunch resistance to any potential distractions from dominating the pitch above all else.

Yet any lingering doubts or caustic voices hissing perpetual disparagement simply dissolved within the syrupy warmth diffusing through Michael's pounding chest.

Smothered beneath a sudden influx of those once unthinkable saccharine emotions stabbing deeper than any cleats raking across manicured turf.

The profound, blooming realization of exactly how far he'd tumbled down into blissful, all-consuming devotion to you slowly crystallizing. Scorching gratitude consuming any shred of self-loathing or toxicity still clinging to the vestiges of his hardened core.

Because Michael Kaiser - the uncompromising god-idol carved from supremely-arrogant granite - reveled in smothering, doe-eyed adulation for the beautifully empathetic mortal whose guiding compassion inexorably reshaped his innermost being.

Reforging those frigid edges into molten tenderness reflected within that wry smirk gracing his features while ultimately breaching the bedroom's threshold.

There you lay tangled amidst the bedding in utter tranquility, ignorant to the world blazing on without you as the vestiges of daylight shifted into inky cerulean along the horizon.

Either lulled into slumber by the late hour or simply overwhelmed by the very same hopeless longing Michael still battled sating with each fruitless deployment.

Helplessly committing your ethereal silhouette within that cozy sanctuary to memory, Michael simply basked in the sight - content to drink in every rise and fall of your serene figure until his own hammering pulse steadied into a gradually lulling cadence.

Because you were his everything now.

His true north and inspiration amidst this turbulent voyage once solely motivated by quenching an unsatiated bloodthirst for public adulation and trophies.

His beacon in life's relentless madness.

So with the reverent tenderness of a man cherishing his greatest fortune, Michael slid beneath those satiny sheets behind your slumbering form.

Enveloping your smaller contour into the protective cage of his solid embrace, burying his stubbled jawline into the nape of your throat to fully inhale your intoxicating nectar.

As your instinctive squirms melted into the solidity of his chest, Michael's lids sagged with sheer contentment.

His possessive grip never slackening even the faintest degree as those fatigue-glazed pewter irises drifted shut - sealing with a featherlight graze of searing lips across your forehead.

"I love you."

Those forbidden syllables ghosted over your cheek with a nearly imperceptible caress, viscerally shocking even himself with its earnest tenderness as the universe slowly dimmed beyond your tangled, intimate cocoon of devotion.

Yet none of the withering venom or defensiveness once characterizing that callous alpha exterior remained even an inkling.

Only boundless serenity in having you exactly where Michael privately yearned for throughout every globetrotting second spanning continents and lifespans.

Secured within that sanctum for the remainder of your days enmeshed as one blessed, completed whole.

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leahsgf · 11 months ago

Note

Can we have a Katie McCabe x reader where the reader comes back to arsenal and is upset after not qualifying for the Olympics with the Lionesses and gf katie comforts her?

NOT YOUR FAULT - katie mccabe

katie mccabe x reader

i wrote this the day after the scotland game and have only just finished it up now so i’m sorry for the wait!

a sort of cloud loomed over you as you made your way through the arsenal gym, which was usually a place of comfort to you.

today was different. it had been a few days since the lionesses’ game against scotland and the realisation that you hadn’t qualified for the olympics had only just started to sink in for you, and unlike your teammates, who seemed to just bounce back from it and move on - everything around you football related was just a screaming reminder of the failure. your failure.

you should’ve done something. anything. to create more chances, create a different outcome. you had let them down, and you didn’t know how to live with that.

you hadn’t answered any of the messages you’d received online or elsewhere, not even those from fellow players, instead obsessing over the negative ones, that did nothing but confirm your doubts.

eyes were locked on you as you swiftly crossed the room, a specific set particularly burning.

you had yet to face your girlfriend, never mind speak to her since the loss, despite her best efforts, and you weren’t entirely sure that you could without absolutely crumbling.

your pace increased - exiting the gym as you heard the all too familiar sound of her footsteps trailing behind you, your initial hope to get through the day failing immediately as tears pricked at your eyes.

“y/n wait up!” she called after you, her walk becoming a jog and her irish accent filling the corridor as you made another turn.

she was always quicker than you, and you knew that she’d catch up to you with ease - a thought that was confirmed almost immediately after it crossed your mind as hands grasped at your shoulders from behind and guided you into an empty room, before turning you around to face her.

your eyes remained glued to the floor, in a desperate cling to the remains of your composure, which had pretty much vanished the minute you heard her voice.

“hey, look at me.” the softness of the tips of her fingers against your chin as she guided your head upwards to lock eyes with her own, was enough to make you completely melt, and the previously threatening tears to break free, spilling down your flushed cheeks.

her frown deepened as she took in you, freezing for a split second before pulling you into her arms, rocking the both of you gently and brushing away any stray tears.

the pair of you remained in silence as you cried into her shoulder, and she cradled your head, stroking your hair and pressing the odd kiss to it, letting her lips linger in an attempt to soothe you.

you knew that this was all part of football, and being many years into your career, you had expected yourself to be well adjusted to the times where things don’t go exactly how you planned, and losses - but you had always been over critical and unnecessarily hard on yourself, and katie knew this too.

“it is not your fault okay?” she finally spoke after letting you feel your emotions.

“i know you’re not going to believe me, but please try to trust me when i say that there’s nothing more you could’ve done - you played incredibly well. and i know that it hurts like hell, but sometimes things just aren’t meant to be, and i’ll be here for you through it all. but what i won’t allow is you blaming yourself for this, and i doubt any of the girls’ would either. now what do you say we head home sweetheart.”

“thank you”

“there’s my girl. i’m so proud of you baby, you know that? let’s head off then, i’ll look after you.”

katie was incredible at everything she did, no matter what it was. but her looking after you was something that she managed to do just perfectly, every single time.

she never once let your hand go as she lead you through your shared apartment, guiding you to the living room, where a fresh bouquet of flowers sat in the vase on the coffee table, and a card that read “so proud of you always - love, katie”

she never tried to force a fix to your issues, and let you feel your losses and low points, knowing that she couldn’t take away the feeling exactly, but she could take care of you, and remind you that she loved you, and would be by your side through anything and everything that life threw at you, and ultimately of your worth - which she would never let you forget.

and she just always knew exactly what to do, ushering you to sit down on the sofa, putting on your comfort show and insisting that you relax as she rushed around, running a bath for the pair of you and ordered your favourite takeout.

losses would always hurt, and you would undoubtedly be hard on yourself every time.

but with katie by your side paired with pizza and bubble baths you knew that you’d be alright, and you’d get back up and fight back to the negative voices in your mind, every time.

really wanted to finally finish this so the ending is kind of rushed - sorry! hope you enjoyed anyway, and please send me more requests!

#katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #katie mccabe imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine

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whoreish-behaviour · 2 years ago

Text

Can you handle that?

If you haven't watched Scream 1996 (how?!) please pleasee go watch this scene - (Timestamp 3:25 specifically) :))

This is like a modern version.

Part 2

Ghostface x Fem!Reader

Warnings ; dubcon, coercion, voyeurism, guided masturbation, phone sex?, slight overstim

The popcorn popped gently in the background as you endlessly scrolled through your phone, looking for any horror movies that peaked your interest.

Boring.

Predictable.

Wayy too gory.

Dropping the phone onto the counter, you huffed in annoyance as you rested your head on your hand. The popping sound filled the otherwise silent kitchen, the house being empty of its usual life.

You raked your brain for ideas now you were finally alone. And now that you thought about it more, it had been a while since your hands traced your body as you dived head first into self-please.

Yeah, you knew exactly what you were going to do.

The thought alone already had your thighs squeezing together.

Just as your were turning to shut off the stove, your phone vibrated below you. Eyebrows furrowed, your eyes scanned the name.

No Caller ID.

Shrugging, you picked up the phone without a care and pressed the little green button.

'Hello?'

'Hello.' An unfamiliar voice responded back.

'Yes?'

'Who is this?' Hadn't he called you first..?

"I think you have the wrong number.' You pursed your lips.

'I don't think I do and you didn't answer my question.'

His suddern steriness made you nervous and your thighs shudder.

Jesus, had it really been that long?

'I think I’m gonna go, you definitely dialed the wrong number. See you.' You announced quickly and before he could even speak two words, you hung up.

Before you could even place the phone back on the counter, it vibrated again in your hand.

You hesitated on pressing 'answer', however your curiosity about what he wanted grew stronger until eventually you caved.

'Hello?' You hoped he didn't hear your voice quiver.

'We weren't finished talking, were we sweetheart?' The nickname made you swallow thickly and clench your fist.

'I think we definitely are now.' You tried to sound stern, not wanting some man over the phone to think he had any kind of control over you.

'Hang up again and you'll regret it.'

"Fuck I will." You argued back before doing exactly what he told you not to do.

You tossed the phone on the counter, before turning your back to it completely. Sure, he had shaken you but that was exactly what he wanted.

It was probably just an ego boost for him to freak woman out over the phone, picturing their scared faces in their own homes.

Fucker.

The phone vibrated consistency where it laid, however you stared mindlessly at the ceiling, cursing out the universe for ruining the mood.

You began to chew your nails, his words ringing in your head.

You'll regret it.

An incoming text made your ears prick, looking over your shoulder and down at the device. The text made your heart jump against your ribs.

Unknown Number - Answer the phone.

Unknown Number - Now.

The text didn't hold any explanation marks but you knew that he wasn't fucking around anymore. Your stomach sank as your ringtone yet again rang out.

Last chance, before what? You didn't know.

The phone was in your hand again, thumb pressing down on the screen as you brought it up to your ear.

'Whats got you all nervous over there? Never had a punishment before hm?' His implication made you shived with fear.

He couldn't see you, could he..?

'Or maybe its just because you haven't touched that sweet cunt of yours in a while..' You gasped out loud, pure shock and heat blooming on your face.

'You sick fuck-'

'Ah ah, thats no way to talk to me sweetheart.' He scowled, voice deep and dripping with dominance. Against your better judgement, your core responded.

'What do you want?" Your voice was quiet, all confident gone.

"I just wanna play a game is all.' His tone almost mocked you, as if you had no reason to be terrified.

'What kind of game?' You body shrink as you waited for his response. He seemed to think about it for a second, the silence killing you softly.

'It involves you taking off them soaked panties and sitting your pretty self on that counter for me.'

You froze as he once again rendered you speechless. You hand holding the phone shook as your mouth ran dry.

'Can you handle that?' He teased.

You didn't know what to be more disturbed by: his request or that your body throbbed in response. Theres no way you wanted this..right?

Would that make you just as bad as him?

You gulped, looking at all the windows - wondering if you'll see a glimpse of his shadow. That was if he was even watching you.

'Quit acting so modest, you think I haven't noticed that little stunt you've been pulling with them thighs of yours.' He almost whispered as if it was a dirty taboo thing (it was).

''I don't kn-'

'Now sweetheart.'

You don't know what possessed you. Maybe it was his veil of seduction or just your horniness but you found yourself thumbing at the band of your panties.

Would it be so bad? To have a stranger watch you touch yourself? It sounded like some corny porno.

'If you don't move within the next 2 seconds, I'll come tie you to the fucking table myself.' His voice dropped, his frustration becoming evident.

And that was more than enough for you to clamber up onto the cool marble, contrast to your hot clammy skin, hands already working your underwear down your sticky thighs.

It dropped to the floor with a disgustingly wet slap! You grimaced as you picked your phone up once again.

'Look who's finally behaving herself. Put me on loud speaker and face the patio window.' You heart beat up against your ribcage as you did as you where told.

'Mhm, look at youu.' He dragged out the 'you', adding a playfulness to the tension building. You shivered as his statement solidified that was he indeed watching you.

'Now spread those pretty thighs for me, let me see the mess I made.' You felt yourself drip even more as each word left his mouth.

You gently lifted your legs - feet resting on the counter with you and spread your knees apart.

The cold air against your pussy made you whimper as you clenched around nothing.

'Fuck, I knew you were a slut.' He groaned and you almost moaned right back at him from the sound alone.

'Trace them beautiful thighs for me sweet.' He spoke low and stern.

Your right hand trembled as you ran it down your stomach, across your hip and finally to your thigh, your left hand staying behind you to support your body.

You allowed just the every tips of your fingers to run across your skin, nerves making them shake slightly.

'Mhm good girl. Now get closer.'

You did, your whole body shaking from anticipation as your nails grazed where you need it most. Everything felt wet and you whined at the lack of stimulation.

'You need it that bad huh pretty girl? Go on, touch that pussy.' He pushed and you wasted no time.

You first ran your fingers down your slit, collecting that sweet arousal until it coated your fingers. You then moved up to your clit, rubbing your clit in quick circles.

'No, no - slower. Can't have you coming too quick, can we?' He tutted, redirecting you before you got too carried away. You moaned in response but obeyed nevertheless.

Your fingers slipped every now and then as your whined and moaned into the quiet again. The man on the phone encouraged you continuously, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

'Good fucking girl.'

'Keep rubbing that puffy clit for me. That's ittt.'

'I can see you dripped down on the fucking table - you're so desparate.'

The only words that left your lips were 'Please' as you threw your head back, rubbing your clit harder until he scolded you to slow down once again.

'If you need it that bad, put a finger inside that tight cunt and fuck yourself 'till you cum.' You almost cried out in happiness as you slid your hands lower, a single finger entering you.

'Fuck I can hear that sloppy pussy through the phone, put me closer.' You responded with a quiet 'okay' and moved the phone closer to in between your legs.

'Go on, fuck that cunt.' He ordered and your once again threw your head back, moving your finger faster.

You curled your middle finger up against your G spot until you felt that pit in your stomach built up once again. This time you didn't care what he said, you were going to make yourself come.

You also slid your left hand in and rubbed your clit, your coordination slightly off but you didn't care, it was working.

'Come for me pretty girl.'

That was your final straw as your felt everything you had built crumble between your legs. Your hips bucked up against your own hands and you dropped back flat against the surface below you.

'Move your hands sweet girl, let me see.' He cooed at you and you did as you were told, bringing your hands up to rest on your chest.

'Fuck, you rubbed your poor pussy raw babe.' He faked sympathy but you were too busy trying to catch your breathe.

'But don't get too comfortable, keep going.' You froze.

'W-What..?'

'You heard me, sit up and. Keep. Going.' He ordered and you couldn't even splutter a response. You back ached as you sat up, thigh trembling and twitching.

You slid your hand down, soaked with you arousal, back down to your pulsing core.

However, as your fingertips came in contact with your clit, your hips bucked away as the painful surge of overstimulation shocked through you.

'I-I cant.'

'You can.' He instantly spoke back, 'I wanna see you come from those pretty fingers again.'

You decided to leave your clit and slide lower, reentering your middle finger into your quivering core. But even then, you flinched away from sensitivity.

'It's too sensitive.' You whined, retracting your hand away completely.

It went quiet for a bit and you gulped, scared you had somehow pissed him off. Even though you had been good for him, all things considered.

'Fine,' You breathed out a sigh of relief and rested your head back.

'I guess I'll just have to do it myself.'

You bolted upright, uncomfortable as your pussy slid against the now warm counter.

'What did you just say..?'

'I'll give you a 5 minute head start, go hide and if I don't find you - you get off scot free.' He said, 'I promise not to peek.' his voice light and airy while you choked silently.

'But-'

'5 minutes.' He said before he hung up.

Please do not steal, copy or translate my work

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