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sapphicromanoffxo · 10 months ago

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Branding You | n.r x w.m

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word count: 4.4k+

Warnings: Ghostface stalker!Nat, attempted assault (not from either Nat or Wanda), strap on use, mention of knife (I kinda don't know how to write a knife play yet so it's not here), praise kink, degradation, oral sex

Summary: Wanda is haunted by an elusive scent with an unknown origin. A chance encounter with a red-haired stranger, who bears the same fragrance, intertwines their destinies in a romantic yet dangerous twist of fate.

╰┈➤ Masterlist

The haunting power of scent, some claim, possesses the ability to transport us to distant memories or familiar individuals. It's not just the singular aroma of a perfume, but a blend of fragrances that make it unique and special.

For Wanda, though, identifying the exact origin or source of the scent she encounters everywhere proves challenging. It's a curious mix of vanilla, lavender, and an acrid tang of cigarette smoke; sometimes the aroma of coffee comes into the mix every now and then. Although the components seem to change every time, the lingering essence of vanilla and smoke remains constant.

Perhaps it's the vanilla and coffee used in her favorite cafe, which gives her the essence of warmth and sweetness with a twinge of bitterness, or the frequent whiff of lavender from the nearby flower shop that gives off the feeling of tranquillity and calmness. But where does the hint of smoke fit in? She concludes that it may be from the bustling streets of New York, where she passes by people engaged in a bad habit that pollutes the air.

The smell of smoke is an unwelcome element of the mixture for Wanda. She is never a fan of smoking because she thinks it's a form of silent suicide. But this certain scent has intertwined itself in her life and she has no way of eliminating it. Her mind is overwhelmed, trying to decipher this daily aroma. It has become the first thing that greets her upon opening her apartment door, enveloping her in a sensation that connects her to a place she's never visited, a person she's never known and a mystery that is yet to be discovered.

Wanda's routine visit to the nearby cafe for her go-to morning coffee turned significant one day. Engrossed in her phone while queuing up, she suddenly caught a lingering scent that had haunted her senses for weeks. Momentarily distracted, she scanned the cafe, not in search of anything specific. What caught her eye was the back of a figure heading towards the exit. The woman, clad entirely in black attire with a leather jacket and likely donning Doc Martens, showcased striking red hair swaying with every step. Wanda found herself inexplicably drawn to observe the woman until she vanished through the cafe's door. Intrigued by this unexpected captivation, Wanda couldn't help but ponder how someone could instantly command her attention, only to fade from her thoughts moments later.

Wanda has been consumed by thoughts of the redheaded woman for weeks. It's the first time someone has piqued her interest so quickly, even without any interaction. She yearns for just a glimpse of the woman's face or a hint of her profile. Wanda constantly scans her surroundings, hoping to catch sight of her again, but each day passes fruitlessly without finding her. She sighs and tries to move on with life, feeling a void she can't seem to fill.

On a rare occasion, Wanda found herself at a club in the wee hours, indulging in alcoholic drinks. In the midst of the dancefloor, she let herself go, dancing freely, a side her friends hadn't seen before. Encouraged by their shock and amusement, Wanda unveiled her hidden wild side. Normally an introvert, she recently sought to explore life's offerings, both good and bad.

Amidst the endless shots and the alcohol coursing through her, she surrendered herself further into music, her pulse racing with each beat. Unbeknownst to her, an unknown figure observed her every move, silently watching and ready to pounce at any minute.

As the alcohol's effects faded, leaving Wanda and her friends a bit dizzy, they chose to end the night. Their designated driver dropped them off one by one, with Wanda being the third. She asked to be let off at the corner of the block, a three minute walk or so to her apartment, to avoid the hassle of driving back to the main road.

It was 3:40 AM when Wanda found herself wandering through the dimly lit street. Although nothing seemed suspicious, she noticed an unknown person following her. Sensing a lurking presence through an instinctive feeling, she bravely turned around to check, but found no one behind her except herself. Despite this, her nerves remained on edge, her heart racing erratically. With hurried steps, she pressed on, eager to reach the safety of her apartment's confines.

The air held a slight chill, yet she couldn't discern if the shivers wracking her body stemmed from the cold or the persistent anxiety since her friends dropped her off. Suddenly, someone lunged at her, causing her to stumble back and fall to the ground, unleashing a scream into the open air.

Wanda's mind raced in multiple directions, torn between staying on the ground or darting out onto the street to scream for help. Knowing she had to act before the situation escalated, she scrambled to her feet, but the assailant seized her left foot, halting her escape. Reacting instinctively, Wanda used her right leg to kick, but the person seemed unfazed by the force. As the struggle ensued, the assailant maintained a grip on her feet, contorting her body in an uncomfortable manner, rendering escape impossible.

"Hey!" A voice echoed through the street, causing both Wanda and the assailant to turn toward the newcomer. But from that moment onward, Wanda's vision blurred, possibly due to the lingering alcohol or the rush of adrenaline from her terrifying situation.

Amid her hazy sight, she discerned two figures, their struggle punctuated by grunts and the sound of blows exchanged. One body slammed forcefully onto the ground, accompanied by the unmistakable crack of a bone. The assailant ended up face-first, sporting a busted nose and bloody lips.

Shock finally caught up with Wanda as she crawled backward, trying to process the bewildering scene before her. Her attention shifted to the person subduing the attacker, hearing them speak. "Do you know stalking a woman in the dark is a bad thing?"

Suddenly, Wanda was struck by a realisation that jolted her senses. Her rescuer, she noticed in an instant, was a redhead. The odds of encountering the very person she had been searching for over weeks seemed improbable. She's quite positive that she is the same redhead that she saw at the cafe. Bathed in the ray of the street lights, the woman's silhouette possessed a captivating allure that ignited Wanda's imagination.

Clad in a red leather jacket, black ripped jeans, and Doc Marten boots, the woman exuded a striking presence, her attire accentuating her already imposing height. Wanda's gaze fixated on her side profile, every contour an embodiment of artistry. The woman's cheekbones seemed meticulously sculpted by the most masterful hands ever to grace the earth.

Her nose, a delicate bridge leading to lips with a plushness that spoke of stories untold, seamlessly merged in a mesmerizing way. Wanda's silent admiration was abruptly interrupted by the woman's voice. "Hey. Are you alright? You seem to be in shock. Can you stand up for me?"

Wanda gazed at the offered hand and grasped it, allowing the stranger to assist her in standing up. "Y-yes. I'm okay," she stammered, cringing inwardly at her clumsy response. Her mind seemed to falter, overwhelmed by the reality of facing this remarkable woman who had fearlessly leaped in to aid her.

"He's unconscious now. I need to call 911, report this incident, and have him put to jail," the woman stated, her voice carrying a deep, husky timbre that resonated within Wanda. She found herself nodding dumbly at each word uttered by her rescuer. In a whirlwind of emotions, she felt a surge of confusion, wondering if she had hit her head during the altercation, but she reasoned that her erratic behavior might stem from the recent attack and the effects of alcohol. Her thoughts whirled in disarray, shifting from fear of her attacker to a sense of elation brought on by her savior.

Minutes passed in a hazy blur as Wanda witnessed the arrival of the cops, their questions a jumble she struggled to comprehend. The redhead intervened, explaining the situation on her behalf. As the interrogation concluded and the assailant was cuffed, the officers departed, offering a ride home, which the redhead politely declined, citing that they were near their apartment. Wanda didn't even notice what had been said, didn't even wonder how the woman could have guessed that.

Alone at last, the woman spoke again. "Are you ready to go home? I'll walk you there to ensure you arrive safely."

"I'd appreciate that, thank you," Wanda replied, straightening up from her slouched position, her focus on the redhead leading the way. "May I ask your name?"

The woman chuckled, amusement evident in her question. "You're still drunk, aren't you? Didn't even catch my name when I mentioned it to the cops. But for your benefit, I'm Natasha."

Wanda felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks as she lowered her gaze, a mixture of excitement and shyness washing over her. "Well, you probably heard my name from the cops, but I'm Wanda."

The walk to Wanda's apartment passed without incident, yet she yearned for a few more moments in Natasha's company. "I wanted to ask if I could take you out for coffee sometime? You saved me, and I honestly don't know what would've happened if you hadn't stepped in to help."

Natasha's smile seemed to radiate beyond Wanda's comprehension, igniting a fluttering sensation in her chest similar to a stampede of a thousand lions or attackers, much like the recent encounter.

"Coffee? I can't turn that down."

Thrilled by Natasha's response, Wanda suggested exchanging numbers, promising to text her to arrange their coffee... date?

Two days post-incident, they had their coffee date and have been texting non-stop ever since. Wanda's feeling like her high school self, giddy over every bit of attention from her crush. Natasha's shameless flirting has Wanda on cloud nine, unable to resist.

Wanda found out Natasha owns the cafe she frequents before work and the same one that they are in, leading her to realize why she's seen the redhead there. She chose not to mention her search for Natasha since that day, not wanting to come off as creepy.

She also noticed Natasha's distinct scent, one that's followed her everywhere. Wanda attributed it to Natasha being the cafe owner, a blend of vanilla, coffee, and smoke that has her infatuated, craving to be near Natasha, almost wishing the scent would linger on her own skin.

Their dates spanned from nights at Wanda's place watching movies to rides on Natasha's bike, aimlessly driving until dusk to catch the city lights. Most days found them in Natasha's cafe, engrossed in hours-long conversations, both eager to delve deeper into each other's worlds. Throughout these passing weeks, Natasha never initiated a kiss, leaving Wanda increasingly frustrated. Natasha, like a gentleman, prioritized her comfort, guiding her with a hand on her back as they walked. Wanda cherished these small gestures from Natasha, prompting her decision to take their relationship to the next level.

After dropping Wanda off at her apartment door, Natasha was invited inside but had to decline, citing the need to return to the shop to oversee the closing duties. Just as Natasha was about to leave, Wanda seized her wrist and gently guided her in with her other hand, planting an unexpected kiss on Natasha's lips. The kiss started out slow, gauging each other's reaction then escalated to a full blown make out session in a matter of seconds.

"Fuck. I've been wanting to do that, detka." Natasha gasped, catching her breath after an intense moment at Wanda's doorway.

"You kept me waiting, so I took matters into my own hands." Wanda smirked, leaning in for another passionate kiss.

As they parted, both women steadied their breaths. Natasha's eyes were hooded, a dangerous intensity sparked by Wanda's soft moans. Wanda can almost see how Natasha restrained herself from diving right back in and kissng her senseless.

"I need to leave. See you tomorrow, alright?" Natasha leaned in for another kiss, soft and tender, her hands gripping Wanda's waist affectionately.

Biting her lower lip, Wanda traced Natasha's jawline down to her chin. "Call me when you're home, okay?"

"You're quite the tease," Natasha's voice lowered, adding to Wanda's excitement.

Natasha had left her apartment, leaving Wanda to her own devices. Surveying her apartment, she detected a trace of Natasha's scent that seemed to linger, despite it being present even before they met. It seemed like the scent had been branded on her skin. Puzzled by this, Wanda pondered its origin, realizing there might be no immediate answers. Choosing to tidy up before bed, she glimpsed the lavender bouquet gifted by Natasha on her way to the bathroom. Reflecting on Natasha's enigmatic nature, Wanda felt a magnetic pull, a desire to unravel every aspect of Natasha, from the smallest facts about her to the biggest secret she could hide.

Approaching midnight, Wanda wrestled with restlessness in her bed, anxiously awaiting Natasha's call, presuming she wasn't home yet despite the late hour. Beyond concern for Natasha's whereabouts, Wanda found herself reflecting on their dating experience. Recalling moments where Natasha displayed an uncanny knowledge of her life, from effortlessly navigating to her workplace without directions to casually mentioning her favorite nail polish and preemptively ordering her preferred dish at a European restaurant, Wanda initially dismissed these incidents. However, now, the significance of Natasha's insights weighed heavily on her. It became clear that these instances weren't mere chance occurrences; Natasha inexplicably knew intimate details about her despite her not mentioning those things. Wanda grappled with the thought, how could Natasha know things about her?

Wanda's contemplation was interrupted as she heard the knob to her main door turned. Alert and heart racing, she dashed out of her room, immediately fearing a potential robbery. Scanning the area, she found nothing visibly wrong, but the unease lingered; a lurking burglar could strike at any moment. Recollecting she owned a baseball bat for self-defense, Wanda hurried back to her room. Retrieving the bat and turning around, she was startled by another presence, a masked figure carrying a knife on her left hand.

Wanda held out her bat and thought of ways on how to escape her room. But how can she escape when the masked figure is right there on her doorway. As the person advanced toward her with an intimidating stride, her trembling intensified. Acting on instinct, she swung the bat, but the figure deftly caught it, disarming her. Realizing her vulnerability, Wanda attempted to flee her room, but two powerful hands swiftly grabbed and wrapped her midsection, preventing her escape.

"Let go of me!" Wanda protested, squirming in a futile attempt to break free from the hold. Her captor silenced her with a hand over her mouth, yet she persisted in struggling despite the slim chances of breaking away.

The masked figure flung her onto the bed, intensifying Wanda's fear. Seated on her thighs, trapping and preventing her from leaping off the bed.

"I have been following you, watching every move," the distorted voice echoed.

Wanda briefly halted her struggles, her heart racing incessantly, scanning the figure above her. Apart from the looming mask, the body on top of her appeared to be lithe, yet possessed an unyielding grip. She can't quite decipher why she is not panicking and screaming at the top of her lungs, crying for help. Instead, the masked figure released her mouth, sensing Wanda's confusion.

"Who are you?" Wanda asked in a breathless manner, anticipating the revelation that would unfold only if the person would opt to reveal themselves.

The ensuing silence unsettled Wanda as her captor leaned closer, appearing to scrutinise her. Suddenly, a hand trailed across her clothed abdomen, creeping upward to her left breast, applying a gentle pressure. Startled, Wanda jolted from her reverie, resuming her struggle and protesting, "Get off me! Get off me!"

The other person has subdued Wanda by pinning both of her wrists on top of her head using a belt that was removed from their waist, "If you stay still and be a good girl, I promise I'm going to make you feel good."

"No, no! I don't want you! Please, get off me!" Wanda pleaded.

"It's just me, baby. I thought you wanted me so bad."

The smug tone of the masked person seemed so familiar.

"N-Natasha?" Wanda asked with disbelief.

"That's right, darling," Both of Natasha's fingertips traced over Wanda's taut abdomen, leaving goosebumps on the brunette's skin.

"What are you doing?" Wanda's voice trembled and attempted to reach Natasha's face, "Why are you doing this?"

"You've been on my mind ever since I saw you," Natasha has lifted Wanda's sweatshirt up to her chest, exposing the delicious tits that she had been admiring for a long time. "I bet you didn't know I placed a camera right here in your bedroom. Watching every move."

To say that Wanda is terrified at Natasha's confession is an understatement. All this time, Natasha knew about her and she's a clueless dumb little girl. Her breath quickens at every second that ticks while she's laying beneath this hell of a woman.

"What are you talking about? That's not true!"

"I can't get you out of my head. I had to do it. I needed, no, fuck, I wanted to own you." Natasha wishepered on her ear. She then removed her mask and placed it on top of the bed, close to reach. Her eyes carried a dangerous intention, making Wanda whine from the intensity of the stare.

"Seeing and touching your gorgeous fucking tits is better than watching them from a screen." Natasha leaned down to suck on Wanda's nipple, biting, rolling it gently while kneading the other one with her hand aggressively.

A moan escaped from Wanda's mouth, much to her surprise. She cannot fathom whether she will let herself succumb to this torturous pleasure or run with it. But fuck it, she wanted Natasha in any way possible.

"Aren't you a pretty little thing? You like this, huh? I bet your pussy is wet for me. Would you like me to check?"

"Please, no." Wanda whined even more and shook her head, embarrassed by her body's reaction from Natasha's ministrations.

"No? But I can feel you squeezing your thighs. Trying to hide your arousal, sweetheart?" And with that, Natasha got up and kneeled on the side of Wanda's bed, facing the clothed pussy. "This pussy is mine."

In a swift motion, Wanda's boxers came off and slid through her legs. She closed her thighs at an instant, feeling vulnerable at Natasha's hungry stare.

"Natasha, please!"

"Please, what? I can make this icky feeling disappear, baby. Come on! Don't make me angry!"

Natasha's threat somehow got into Wanda's brain and obediently opened her legs. And she was right, Wanda is dripping. Her arousal is evident with the way her pussy is glistening.

Wanda's breath hitched the moment Natasha's tongue touched her throbbing core. Natasha's warming it up with gentle, kitten licks from the bottom to circling the tip of her sensitive clit. These continued movements earned a deep moan from Wanda, silently pleading and praying for more.

The slow, broad licks of Natasha's tongue proved to be Wanda's undoing. She knew that this sinful act is way better than the times she touched herself, fantasising about Natasha doing the unspeakable things to her.

Natasha's method alternated between licking the clit with precision by using the tip of her tongue to sucking the entirety of Wanda's pussy, making her arch her back from the intense pleasure that was cursing through her body.

"F-fuck! Ahhh—faster!"

Wanda was startled with how her body was reacting effortlessly to Natasha and her brain was in constant push and pull whether this pleasure is a welcome touch on her senses. But what can she lose? She badly wanted Natasha and could barely keep it together. She decided right then to let herself melt on the wave of pleasure and to not overthink her current situation. The coil in her stomach snapped at an instant, welcoming the surge of intense earth-shattering orgasm that made her thrash on top of the bed, legs shaking violently.

Natasha let Wanda ride through her orgasm by slow strokes of her tongue, easing her into a relaxed manner. Although she had a smirk on her facing, feeling triumphant at Wanda's fucked out appearance. She reached up and caressed Wanda's cheek lovingly.

"What a good girl you are, Wanda."

After regaining her breath, Wanda soaked in Natasha's praise, a pleased smile lighting up her face. She gazed at Natasha and leaned in for a kiss. Their kiss was brimming with an intense passion and an insatiable desire, longing to unleash itself in the most fervent and unrestrained manner imaginable. It was a slow, deliberate meeting of lips that carried within it a fiery yearning, desperate to be set free in an eruption of fervour.

"I want to fuck you. I will make you reach places which you thought never existed within you," Natasha growled at her ears. "Lay on your stomach."

The command came in a gentle manner, but Wanda understood not to hesitate, immediately positioning herself exactly as instructed without a second thought. She felt Natasha behind her and her upper back was pushed on the bed, while her ass was hoisted further up.

Wanda glanced at the side of her room and caught a view of herself from the mirror. Her back is arched at a perfect angle, laying flat on her stomach and her ass is aligned with Natasha's crotch. Her wrists are still bound by a belt and were stretched out on top of her head. She then saw that Natasha had removed her pants and what was left on her was a harness that is strapped intricately on her waist, and the faux cock is hanging proudly in the middle of her buttcheeks.

Naturally, Wanda's eyes widened at the sight of Natasha. The redhead had opted to remove her top as well, leaving her bare breasts for Wanda to see. She wanted to reach out and feel them with her own hands, perhaps she can perform all of her fantasies at a later time, only if Natasha allows her to do it.

"You're so goddamn sexy, Wanda. I don't know how I was able to keep it this long," Natasha's hands travelled over the expanse of Wanda's back, and gave a loud smack on her left buttcheek. "I'll fuck you, so, so good."

Natasha aligned the tip of her cock at Wanda's entrance and slowly pushed in. There was little to no resistance since Wanda is well lubricated with her own wetness. But the stretch of the toy inside was overwhelming Wanda's senses.

"Fuck! It's too big. It won't fit!" Wanda said in a panicked haze.

"Oh baby," Natasha falsely comforted Wanda's worry and caressed the back of her head. "Then I'll have to push harder for it to fit, yeah?"

Natasha silenced Wanda's protest by shoving her head down further onto the pillow, stifling both her groans and pleas.

"You're going to fucking take it!" Each word was punctuated with deep, hard, backbreaking thrusts, making the bed squeak from the repetitive moment.

Wanda's silent muffled noise can be heard simultaneously with the sound of Natasha's brutal pounding. Gasping for air, she struggled to turn her head, desperate for a breath while also trying to catch a glimpse of her surroundings.

Natasha bundled Wanda's hair in her hand and pulled her to her chest abruptly "See, baby? It fits in your tight little pussy."

Mouth agaped, and eyes rolled back, Wanda nodded dumbly, letting herself be fucked throroughly. She can't remember sex being this good, but good God, Natasha knew what she's doing. True to her words, Wanda indeed reached places she thought never existed. Each brutal pound transports her to a different dimension, opening up portals for agonizing sensation and pleasure.

"My pretty little slut to ruin," Natasha murmured to her ear. "You like being fucked like this, huh?"

"Yes! Oh god! Harder, please!"

Wanda felt Natasha's breast hitting her back and their bodies' closeness somehow grounds her. And oh, that unique scent of Natasha filled her senses, intensifying her desire to be immersed in Natasha's presence. The blend of vanilla and cigarette smoke seemed to be a metaphor for Natasha's personality— soft, sweet, and kind-hearted. Yet be the kind of person who will break into her apartment with an intent of fucking her to oblivion. She felt loved and at the same time violated, questioning her own sanity at how easily she could melt like a puddle at Natasha's undeniable allure.

"Natasha, I-I'm gonna c-cum!" Wanda cried out at how fast approaching her orgasm was and Natasha doubled her efforts into bringing her into another climax.

"Cum on my cock, you slut." Natasha's encouragement opened Wanda's floodgates that made her wildly thrash against her chest, screaming her name as the orgasm paralyzed her fucked out senses.

Exhausted, Wanda collapsed on her bed, her head turned to the side, breathing heavily. Natasha pulled out the strap and laid beside her.

Natasha gazed at Wanda's face, patiently awaiting her calmness and awareness of her surroundings. "You did so good, baby."

A smile graced Wanda's face, prompting her to lean in for a sweet and gentle kiss with Natasha. The kind of soft touch that both women needed after an intense activity. Despite being tired and on the verge of sleep, Wanda still looked remarkably beautiful in Natasha's eyes.

"Planning to doze off on me, Princess?" Natasha teased her lover.

"No!" Wanda replied defiantly, scrambling to her feet and straddling Natasha's waist.

Wanda bit her lip seductively, contemplating what she's going to say next, "Why don't you wear your mask again while I ride you?"

"Hmm, did I hear that right? Are you sure you're not too tired?" Natasha teased Wanda again and pinched her nipple, checking if she was serious on her suggestion because she's ready.

Wanda playfully nodded, grabbing the ghost mask beside them and putting it on Natasha's head. She loved how Natasha's eyes sparkled dangerously while lowering the mask which made her pussy throb even more.

"Do you still have your camera set up here at the moment?" Wanda asked while she positioned herself atop Natasha.

"Yes."

Feeling satisfied, Wanda sank down and moaned at the familiar stretch.

"Good, 'cause I'm going to fuck myself with your cock all night long."

Like, comments, and reblogs are welcome. :)

#wandanat #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #natasha x wanda #wandanat fanfiction #marvel #wlw

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denwritesandcries · 11 months ago

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MASTERLIST

BOTTOMS

Hazel Callahan

Love, Hate and No Relationship: Hazel Callahan hates you and you have no idea why. Now, this wouldn't be such a problem if it weren't for the fact that you're in love with her.

Work of Art: You join a fight club just to spend more time with your pretty friend, Hazel. The fact that you're running out of time to finish an art project is just a detail.

Hold to my Hand : You might be a little obsessed with your girlfriend's hands and apparently she enjoys that a lot.

Later you'll laugh about this / 2 / 3: Later you would say that you only got into this stupid situation because of a cotton candy. PJ and a cotton candy. A goddamn cotton candy you bought for Hazel Callahan.

YELLOWJACKETS

Shauna Shipman

Heart Stealer: In which Shauna Shipman steals not only your favorite pen during class, but your heart too.

gf!Shauna Shipman HCs

Lose on losing Dogs: There she is. The first person you met when you moved into the neighborhood. Your first friend, your first crush, your first kiss and your first heartbreak. Your first grief is very much alive and looking at you in the eye now.

or, Shauna comes back.

Lottie Matthews

Sweet Doe Eyes: Lottie knows very well what she's doing now, this girl, with that sad little face and doe eyes, with freckles highlighted by the cold and cheeks reddened burned through freezing. She knows you will give in every single time.

One rock a day keeps the Wilderness away: The last thing you expected to happen after a plane crash was for your girlfriend to end up becoming some kind of cult leader fascinated by amulets made of the weirdest and shiny things like a damn owl, yet here you are.

Nat Scatorccio

Call me Yours: You're in a closet with Natalie Scatorccio. How ironic.

gf!Nat Scatorccio HCs

Van Palmer

Like a Movie Scene: Van Palmer should come with a warning sign. She invades your life with her crooked smiles and stupid jokes and draws you into her orbit without even asking for permission, as if it were something destined to happen. Which, you assume, it probably is.

Multi!Yellowjackets

YJS body type HCs

The Wilderness Wants Us To (Kiss): You have experienced all kinds of weirdness ever since the plane crashed months ago, so why the weirdest thing so far is it seems like all the girls are suddenly courting you?

or, a series of kisses between you and your dear football team.

SCREAM

Sam Carpenter

Hug me Tighter: You’re only trying to make your girlfriend take a nap with you, the fact that it’s in a hospital bed after one of the worst nights of your lives doesn't really matter.

Fall(ing for You): Sam is certain that Tara's new quiet friend may turn out to be Ghostface, unfortunately – or not –, that friend is you. or, it takes the help of tara and a dog for sam to finally come to her senses.

Tara Carpenter

Take a Breath (and kiss me): Your girlfriend Tara gets a little clingy when she realizes you haven't kissed her properly in days.

sleepy!Tara Carpenter HCs

Dating Tara having a scary dog HCs

#yellowjackets x reader #scream x reader #hazel callahan x reader #kate bishop x reader #van palmer x reader #lottie matthews x reader #nat scatorccio x reader #shauna shipman x reader #misty quigley x reader #jackie taylor x reader #hazel callahan imagine #bottoms 2023 #tara carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x you

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themidnightcrimson · 2 years ago

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ghostface ࿏ wm

summary: in which wanda has been missing for months, and the last place you expected to find her was behind a ghost mask with a knife in her hand.

words: 7.7K

warnings: ghostface!wanda, top!wanda, fem!reader, blood kink, knifeplay, dubcon/noncon, cumstrap (r receiving), horror and fear, lots of blood, some more blood too, also there is blood

this post is a dark!fic and is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

Steve passed behind the couch and handed a bottle of beer over your head. “Thanks, Rogers,” you said as you took the chilled bottle, handing it to Natasha who sat beside you on the couch for her to open it for you.

You watched as Nat reached into the pocket of her leather jacket and took out her switchblade, flicking the lever so that the dainty but incredibly sharp knife popped up in front of her face. The light from the movie playing on the television in the dark room reflected off the spotless blade. She smirked a little, always proud to show off her knife skills, as she took your beer bottle and used the knife to pop the cap, cold smoke hissing from the bottle’s rim. She handed it back to you and tossed the cap onto the pile of beer caps sitting on the coffee table in front of you. The three of you had really blown through several cold ones that night.

You, Steve, and Natasha had recently started having weekly Friday movie nights. Each Friday, you got together in Natasha’s homely little apartment and ate pizza and drank beer while watching a scary movie of your choice. Naturally, Natasha chose the Texas Chainsaw Massacre the first night, and the next week, Steve chose the original black and white Frankenstein movie which he said was scary enough for him. This week it was your turn to choose, and you had chosen The Conjuring.

Steve winced from behind his beer bottle as the movie played. He looked funny, a large muscular man, cuddling up on the old blue recliner and struggling to hold his stomach down as the movie played. Natasha watched it with wide eyes that didn’t blink and an amused smirk on her lips. You were somewhere in the middle, not as easily bothered as Steve but not coldhearted sociopath like Nat. Still, when something did get to you, you always grabbed Nat’s arm and hid your face in her hair.

Things had been different the last few months. Before, there would be two more people in your party—Wanda and Vision. They were soulmates in the form of best friends, although everyone knew Vision had a crush on Wanda. Although she found him annoying, he was a doting friend whom she cared a lot about—you all cared a lot about.

Two months ago, Vision was driving when his car was struck by a large truck losing control. He died twice—once on the road, his bloodied bodied having flung through the windshield and onto the concrete where his head cracked. The paramedics were able to revive his pulse and take him to the hospital. In the middle of an emergency surgery that was supposed to save his life, his pulse stopped and did not come back.

The worst part was that Wanda was there the whole time—in the car with him before the wreck, crouched over his body as the paramedics resuscitated him, holding his hand in the screeching ambulance, and outside the room when the doctors pronounced him dead again. Vision had died twice—and Wanda watched each time.

It was Vision’s dying wish to have his body dedicated to science, so there was no burial. When Wanda completely disappeared, there was not even a funeral held. No one had seen or heard from her since Vision died, and you remembered that every time you saw your friends. Her absence was unignorable.

When the movie was finally over, Steve insisted that you watch something lighter so that he could feel better before going home. Natasha laughed as he put Bluey on.

“God, I feel drunk,” you groaned as you laid your head back against Nat’s sofa and cast your legs across her lap. “We drink too much.”

“You drink too much, bunny,” Nat remarked as she opened another beer for herself. “You’ve gotta remember you’re still a lightweight.”

“Have some water,” Steve said, grabbing a water bottle from the table and tossing it to you. The water felt refreshing on your tongue as you chugged half of it in one go.

“Woah there, everything you just drank is gonna come right back up,” Nat laughed, gently taking the water bottle away from your mouth as you swallowed the last bit and wiped the stray drops from your mouth.

Feeling antsy from the movie, Steve opened his phone and checked his messages. You watched as his eyebrows sewed together, his eyes widening. “Guys.”

“What?” Nat sighed, casually casting an arm over your shoulder as she stared mindlessly at the TV.

“Sam just sent me this article,” Steve said, turning the phone so that you and Nat could see the screen. “Apparently, we got a killer on the loose.”

Natasha leaned forward with concern, reaching over you to grab Steve’s phone so she could read it. You peered over her shoulder and saw that the article said there have been multiple fatal stabbings across the city in the past week all linked to one unidentified suspect. Out of abundance of caution, the police department was issuing a citywide curfew starting at 11 p.m. and warned citizens to be on the lookout for a tall, cloaked individual wearing a white ghost mask.

“Ghost mask,” Natasha remarked as her eyes read over the words at the same time as yours. “Jesus Christ.” She handed Steve’s phone back to him.

Steve sighed and read over the article again. “What has the world come to?”

Your face was set in an expression of concern as you thought over the circumstance, and then you remembered that the city has issued a curfew. Grabbing Nat’s wrist, you turned it and looked at the time on her watch. “It’s 10:50. The curfew starts a 11.”

“Shit,” Steve groaned in realization, looking at his watch, too.

“You guys can just stay here tonight,” Nat offered, sitting up with urgency.

“Nah, Nat. I have to train early in the morning,” Steve said, pushing his phone into his pocket and downing the last of his beer before slamming it down on the coffee table. “And after that movie, I’m barely gonna get enough sleep tonight as it is.”

“I bet I could make it home before 11 if I leave now,” you said, standing up to your feet.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Nat said as she sprung to her feet with you. You looked at her questioningly, and she tilted her head and hesitated. “If there really is a killer on the loose, you shouldn’t be walking home alone at night, curfew or not.”

“I need to get home to feed my neighbor’s cat,” you argued. Nat’s eyebrows raised, and you sighed and explained, “She went on vacation for a week, and I’m supposed to feed the cat every night. It’s already so late—the kitty’s probably starving by now.”

“Then let me walk you home.”

You tilted your head like hers. “Then you would be the one walking home alone, silly.”

“I’ll get her home,” Steve announced as he slipped his brown jacket on. “Her apartment is on the way to mine.” Nat stared at him, not very convinced. “It will be fine, Nat. But if she’s going to leave, we need to do it now.”

Throwing her head back in frustration, Nat gave in. “Fine. But you better use yourself as a human shield if a guy in a ghost mask jumps out of an alley at you.”

Steve crouched and leveled his fists in front of his face, punching the air in front of him. You and Nat just stared blankly at him as he straightened and smiled sheepishly.

“Aren’t you the one who just nearly pissed your underwear from a scary movie?” said Nat.

“That’s demons!” he argued. “I’m a total boss in real life.”

“Don’t ever say total boss again,” Nat grumbled as she picked up your jacket from over the couch and slipped it over your arms gently. Nat was always extra caring and protective over you. Whether it was a best friend thing, a sister thing, or something more, she always did everything possible to make you feel safe and taken care of, especially after Wanda disappeared. She knew how close the two of you were and how much it affected you when she up and left.

Natasha walked the two of you to her front door, Steve leaving first and you following after. Before you passed through the door, you stopped, turning to Natasha who stood close to you.

You hesitated. You had asked everyone you knew this question a million times, almost every other day. You felt annoying and absurd, but you just couldn’t help the constant gnawing feeling inside you that was driving you crazy. But you knew Nat would never judge you.

Natasha read the concern on your face, crinkling her brow and leaning closer to you. Looking up at her, your lips opened a few times before you whispered, “Have you heard from Wanda?”

She must have assumed that was what you were going to ask, because her lips pressed into a straight line and her eyebrow softened. “No, I haven’t bunny,” her raspy voice assured you.

Disappointed, you sighed and looked at the ground. Nat’s hand met your shoulder, her warm palm rubbing it comfortingly.

“She just needs some time.”

“It’s been two months, Nat.”

“Everyone grieves differently, bunny,” she told you as she had told you a million times before, after each time you had asked her. “She’s grieving Vision, and you’re grieving her. Just as you want her to move on, you need to move on, too.” Hearing someone tell you to just move on was never the best advice, but with the way Nat was holding your shoulder and the gentleness laced in her voice, as if she was afraid that talking too loudly might break you, you found it assuring.

“Okay,” you whispered. She gave you a look questioning if you were okay, to which you answered with a slow nod and a soft smile.

“10:52!” Steve called from down the apartment hallway.

Nat quickly leaned forward and kissed the top of your head. “Be safe, bunny.”

“You, too.” You patted her arm and turned away, catching up to Steve who led you down the stairs.

Everyone had taken the curfew seriously, because the streets were nearly empty as Steve walked you home. He talked about all the training he had to do in the morning, to which you disinterestedly listened because it comforted you from the dark, quiet streets. Once you finally made it home, Steve hugged you goodbye and left to go to his apartment just a couple blocks over.

First, you took out the key your neighbor had given you and went into her apartment, being met with her orange and white cat who was already meowing at the door when you walked in.

“Hi, kitty,” you cooed, leaning down to rub the cat’s back as he pushed his forehead against your shin, his tail curling around your calf. “I’m sorry kitty, I know you’re so hungry.”

You got the food out from the cabinet where your neighbor kept it and poured it into the cat’s bowl, watching him instantly settle down into proper loaf position to hungrily eat.

“I’ll be earlier tomorrow,” you promised him, giving him a few more pets before you watered your neighbor’s succulents and then left, making sure the door was locked behind you. A door down, you entered your own apartment, sighing and letting your back lean against the cool door for a moment.

Coming back home alone was always depressing. You didn’t understand. You had lived alone for years because you liked it that way—you liked having your own space, your own things, your own comfort zone to relax in. The past two months, the emptiness was deafening.

“Maybe I should invest in a cat,” you murmured to yourself as you slid your jacket off and hung it on the coatrack.

After taking a shower, you still felt a little too tipsy to sleep. Plus, as braver you were than Steve, the movie did have you feeling a little on edge. So instead of going to bed like you normally would, you dragged your favorite fuzzy blanket from your bed to the couch and turned on Bluey, starting where you left off at Nat’s. You also got a bowl of Lucky Charms both for comfort and because you needed your stomach to settle from all the pizza grease and alcohol.

Five minutes into Bluey and stuffing your face, you felt your phone ringing from the table beside the couch. Crunching on the cereal, you glanced over to your phone that vibrated, moving slightly atop the table. It was Nat’s contact lighting up your phone, the screen filled with your favorite picture of her where she’s wearing a green face mask with a cucumber slice over one eye, her other eye squinting open.

Shifting the bowl to your right hand, you reached to your left and grabbed the phone, tapping the answer icon and bringing it to your ear.

“Yes, I made it home safe, Nat. Steve didn’t get stabbed, nor did I, and everything’s safe. You can sleep soundly tonight,” you immediately answered with a little giggle, already knowing that she was calling to bombard you with questions about if you made it back safely.

There was a beat of silence where all you heard was Bluey playing in front of you and the distant sounds of your neighbor’s cat meowing. A staticky hushing sound flooded through your phone’s speaker, and then a voice.

“Speaking too soon?”

The left side of your face where the phone was pressed tingled at the unfamiliarity of the voice in your ear. It was a strange, raspy voice, and you could tell almost instantly that it sounded audibly modified.

You second guessed yourself—was it someone else who called you? You took the phone away from your ear and looked at it again, but it was still Nat’s name in heart emojis and the picture of her in the green face mask with the cucumber slice over her eye. You brought it back to your ear, eyebrows sewing in confusion.

“Who is this?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” the voice drawled, low and hoarse in your ear, a tone of excitement laced in their voice.

You couldn’t help but feel a tendril of fear in your chest as the logical side of you tried to sort through all the possibilities of why Nat’s number had called you, yet you were not speaking to Nat.

“Is this a scam caller?” you blurted. “I know they figured out how to make it look like one of your contacts is calling you, but I’m not interested in your multilevel marketing scheme tonight, okay, buddy? Try again with a geriatric and maybe you’ll catch your luck.”

You were about to hang up before the voice spoke again, loud but hushing in your ear. “Let’s see… The Texas Chainsaw Massacre? No, that’s Natasha’s. What about Frankenstein? No, you’re too young for that. That would be more of Steve’s liking, wouldn’t it?”

Your lips fell open as the voice piqued your concern again. This definitely was not a scam caller, because there was no way a random stranger would know not only your friends’ names, but also which movies they had picked for movie night the last two Fridays in a row.

“What about… The Conjuring?!” The person’s voice rose in excitement, blaring through the speaker of the phone. A hissing laugh flooded the line, and your heart was starting to noticeably pound in your chest.

“Sam?!” you confidently asked, despite the seeping fear in your chest. Sam would know what you all had watched together, and he would definitely be the one to prank call you using a voice modifier just to scare the shit out of you.

“Is Conjuring your favorite movie, y/n?”

Your body froze as your brain started to run out of possibilities as to who it could be. The sounds of Bluey and the neighbor’s cat started to drown out of your hearing, your hand on your bowl of cereal turning sweaty and hot.

“Why don’t you put the Lucky Charms down so we can have a proper conversation?”

A gasp struck out of your throat as you set the Lucky Charms down harshly on the table, a few marshmallows and some milk spilling out of the bowl and onto the table. Pushing your blanket off your body that was now growing hot, you turned around to look around your apartment. The kitchen was empty, and so was the bathroom that you could see into, and so was your bedroom whose door was open.

“Who are you?” you demanded shakily, whipping your head to the window where your blinds had broken and hadn’t been replaced, looking out at the fire escape and seeing no one there.

“Don’t turn your head too hard there, y/n. You’ve had a lot to drink tonight, haven’t you?” the sinister voice said over the phone, and now your entire body was starting to throb in fear.

“If this is a prank caller, you should know my friend is a hacker and she will find out who you are,” you said, jumping up to your feet and turning in circles around your apartment even though you still saw no one there.

“One… two… three… four…” The voice counted, and on the other end of the line you could hear the light clinking of metal. “Thirteen… fourteen… fifteen! Fifteen beer caps!”

Your eyes went wide and instinctively started to moisten as you realized that the sound of metal was the pile of beer caps that the three of you had built on Nat’s table.

“Oh, you said your friend is a hacker? Are you talking about Natasha? Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Natasha won’t be helping you out with anything anytime soon—or ever.”

Could it be Natasha herself prank calling you? That would be extremely out of the blue for her, since she seemed so worried about you walking home and she knew you were feeling extra sensitive about everything that had happened in the last few months. There was no way she would do that. But it was Nat’s number calling you, and there was the sound of the beer caps in her apartment, and the words of the person telling you that Nat was in some way incapacitated permanently.

“I’m calling the cops!” you yelled, taking the phone away from your face and instantly ending the call. Your trembling fingers fumbled to go back to the call app and dial the local police station’s number, accidentally opening other apps. Before you could dial anything, Nat’s contact lit up your screen again. Frustrated, you denied it, but almost instantly it blocked your screen again.

Maybe it was all a joke and now Nat was calling you to tell you she was okay, you thought. You answered the call with a very frustrated, “Hello?”

“You hang up on me again and I will gut you like a fish!” the voice angrily hissed with such power and fury that it made your back straighten suddenly. The loudness of their voice overpowered the voice modifier, but even as their voice changed, you still couldn’t put a finger on if you recognized it or not.

You just closed your mouth, breathing hard as your forehead grew sweaty and feverish.

“Unless you want me to slice pretty little Nat’s throat right open, I suggest you sit still and comply.”

Relief washed over you as you took the caller’s words meaning that Nat was still okay. In the silence on the line, you could hear the sound of a car in the background. This person was driving.

“What do you want?” you asked, and now that you knew for sure they weren’t near you, you ran to your bedroom and opened the drawer of your nightstand as quietly as you could.

“I want you to tell me your favorite scary movie,” they lolled with bemusement.

Focused on getting the gun out of your drawer and bullets from a pack of ammo to load it, you didn’t say anything.

“Oh, c’mon. It’s a simple question. Everyone has a favorite scary movie.”

You realized that you didn’t hear the sound of a driving car in the background anymore, and they were getting impatient, so you blurted the first thing you could think of. “Saw.”

“Saw? With all that blood and gore?!”

“It’s a classic,” you breathed as you loaded the gun and then held it up, carefully walking back into the living room.

“You Americans always follow the sheep,” they said with a despicable laugh, and you could hear noises in the background.

“So… you’re not American?” you asked, trying to get more information about who was calling you. While you wanted to hang up and call the police, you knew they would just keep calling you back quicker than you could dial 911, and you thought you might as well try to figure out more.

They dodged your question completely. “What do you like so much about Bluey?”

Gasping, you turned towards your TV and pointed your gun at the animated characters on the screen. It was sickening, looking at the cute, childish show while you were holding a gun and being held hostage on the phone by a psychopath. You were starting to think they must be just a prank caller. Maybe they picked some random person, who happened to be you, and followed you to Nat’s apartment. They saw you were drinking and used their own beer caps to make you think they were in Nat’s apartment. Maybe they had seen you through the window eating Lucky Charms and watching Bluey. It had to be a prank.

“It’s… it’s cute,” you faintly answered, going to the window slowly, with your gun pointed at the glass.

The voice laughed again, singeing your nerves as you peered out of the window into the darkness, looking around as far as you could to make sure no one was there.

“Do you wanna hear a joke?”

Seeing that no one was anywhere near the window, you moved back across your living room.

“Sure,” you whispered.

“Knock… Knock.”

Your eyes instantly shifted to the front door which was right ahead of you. Did you even lock it? Were they mentioning the door because they were right outside?

Quickly, you jumped to the door and locked the handle and slammed the chain shut at the top of the door. Holding your breath, you brought your eye up close to the peephole, expecting to see some strange man standing outside your door. To your relief, there was no one there.

“W-Who’s there?” you whispered, keeping your eye at the peephole in case they jumped into sight.

You were met with the sound of the call being disconnected. Confused, you looked down at your phone, but the moment you did, you heard the piercing sound of glass shattering. Out of fright, you dropped your gun, and it slid out of reach under the kitchen table.

Shrieking, you turned around and saw that the window you were just standing at had been kicked through. In came a dark figure slinking through the broken window, heavy boots crunching the shards of broken glass on the floor as they stepped into the apartment. You froze. Their other foot came through, the trail of their black cloak slipping over the windowsill as they stepped fully inside your home. They stood, straightening themselves like a demonic shadow standing across the room from you.

What should have scared you the most was the large, shiny knife they held in their hand. But what really scared you was when they lifted their face to show a white ghost mask with darkness for eyes and a horribly, sickeningly twisted open mouth in the shape of a scream. From across the room, you saw the blood splattered across the mask, staining its otherwise spotless white surface. The black glove on their hand squeaked as they tightened their fist around the knife, the ghost mask tilting slowly to the side as they stared you down from behind the mask.

Your phone slipped out of your hands, and the sound of it crashing to the floor propelled you out of your frozen state. Unable to breathe, you grunted in fear as you turned and started to unlock your door so you could run away.

Heavy booted footsteps came thudding towards you as your sweaty fingers struggled to unlock the door, and you turned your head to see that they were coming right at you, raising the knife in the air which spread their black cloak out like wings of a black bird coming down to snatch their prey. You shrieked and jumped to the side right as their arm came down, hearing their large knife stick right into the wood of the door.

Stumbling like an idiot, you sprinted to the only other exit in sight—the broken window they had just come through. You had a little time as they were pulling their knife out of the door, but right as you got to the window, they were running towards you again.

The fear and adrenaline pumping through your blood was making you dizzy. You let out another undignified squeal of terror as you moved away from the window and jumped between the couch and the TV.

The masked killer which you had read about in the article stopped when they saw you moving directions, now standing on the other side of the couch from you. You jumped to the right, but they moved with you.

“Stop!” you screamed, moving to the left only to have them move at the same time as you, still holding up the shiny knife that glinted under the light of your apartment.

You were cornered. There was nowhere to go now. You just stood there, your knees shaking, crouched, just waiting for them to make their move.

In a sudden swoop, they leaped over the couch and lunged at you. You screamed, jumping away just in time for their knife to slice across your upper arm in a non-fatal catch. The person fell right into the TV, the screen on which Bluey still played turning into glitches as they knocked it right off the wall in a loud crash.

Sprinting to your bedroom, you slammed the door shut and locked it, lunging towards the window by your bed. You could hear them fumbling to get up in the other room.

You had this window glued shut several years before out of fear for your own safety. You lived in a dangerous city. There was a fire escape right outside your window. It was only common sense to have glued it shut so that no one would sneak into the window right beside where you lay sleeping in bed.

The cut on your arm was already gushing, bright red lines of blood flooding down your arm and trickling into your palm, making your grip on the window slippery. The cut hurt, and as you tugged upwards on the window, it hurt even more, but you were desperate. People could lift cars out of their own adrenaline, surely you could snap the barrier of super glue standing between you and your last effort to escape.

The doorknob to your bedroom aggressively throttled. You could hear them shoving their shoulder against the locked door, and you started to sob as you tried harder to open your window, feeling like there was a timer right over your head counting down to your own death. It was a manic state you were in, pulling at the window as your arm covered itself in your own blood and the person started using their boot to heavily kick down the door.

“Come on!” you cried, your bloody hand slipping off the window.

With another powerful kick to the door, it came right off the hinges, slamming into the adjacent wall as the cloaked, masked person started storming towards you.

There was nothing left to do. You tugged at the window again, not even bothering to watch them come towards you. If you were going to be murdered, you didn’t want to see them as they did it.

Instead of a knife, you felt two gloved hands grab you by your sides and lift you, throwing you onto your bed. You lost your breath as your back hit the mattress with force, and you watched as the person climbed over you. You were at least going to give them a fight.

Raising your legs, you tried to kick them away, but they grabbed hold of your ankles as they climbed between your thighs, using a great deal of strength to keep your legs still. You even heard them grunt in frustration, and the sound of them struggling to hold you down gave you a boost of confidence to jump up and punch them right in the mask. The person took one hand away from your leg to cover the mouth part of the mask, and you used the opportunity to kick them in the chest. To your surprise, they hardly faltered. The mask faced you again, and something in you twisted. The mask did not change its expression, but you knew now they were very, very angry.

They snatched your free leg and climbed further over you, leaning down and snapping their knifeless hand over your throat, squeezing hard. You watched as they raised the knife above your head. You choked and grabbed at their hand, using your legs to try and kick at them again, but they were kneeling between them, so all you could do was dig your heels into their hips which didn’t have any effect.

Their hand squeezed your throat hard, the leather of their gloves digging into your skin. Losing air, you grabbed at their iron grip on your throat, staring up at the horrifying ghost face above you and their knife positioned to strike.

If they were going to kill you, your dying wish was to see who this serial killer was. They were breathing hard, loudly, distracted by the passion of their pending kill, so you flew your hands to their face and ripped the mask off.

A head of red hair came spilling out of the mask as you tugged it off, and you were met with wide green eyes. If you weren’t already being choked, you would have lost your breath at the sight of Wanda above you.

“W-Wanda?” you choked, your face going bright red as your vision blurred. Your eyes shifted between the mask in your hand and her face—it was her the whole time.

Her lips snarled, showing her canines at you. Her pupils were wide and frenzied, a pink flush in her face and a shine on her forehead whether from the efforts of trying to catch you or from excitement of finally catching you. Her lip was busted from when you had punched her over the mask, a little blood bubbling into her mouth and spreading across her teeth.

She looked at you for a moment, her face hardening, and she released her hand from your neck right before you were about to pass out. You desperately sucked in air, coughing and choking as your lungs filled with oxygen.

“So I did get you,” she said, her eyes moving to your bloody arm. Her tongue ran over her lower lip as she reached down and ran her gloved hand over the cut, smearing more blood across your skin. Fear twisted inside you as you watched her pink lips turn into a demonic smile.

“Wanda,” you whispered, breathing heavily as you saw her more clearly now. “What have you done?”

Was she the same ghostfaced serial killer who had been killing people in the city? Is this where she has been for these two months, breaking into people’s homes and stabbing them to death?

“It didn’t take long for Natasha to swoop in, did it?” she asked, and you realized then that when the voice modifier glitched over the phone, it had been her voice you heard. It’d been so long since you heard it that you hadn’t even recognized it, but you knew now.

“What?” you breathed, eyes flickering to the knife still in her hands.

“I’ve been gone for two months, and she already has you in her grip,” she spat, her lips curling in anger.

“Where did you go?” you blurted. “Why did you disappear?”

A smile stretched at her mouth. “I needed some time adjust my… perspective.” She enunciated the word slowly and sharply as she brought the knife to your bruised throat.

You gasped and flinched when you felt the cold metal lay flat across your skin and then turn so that the point pushed against your flesh, threatening to rip it.

“I used to be so selfless. I avoided you for Vision’s sake, so as to not hurt his precious feelings.” She started dragging the point of the knife down the column of your throat, her breath hissing between her teeth in excitement. “But Nat was still there after he died, so I left. I couldn’t be around if I couldn’t have you still.”

You watched her in terror as she spoke, her wide pupils focused on the way the knife moved across your skin, pressing in but not cutting.

“I sat back and watched. I watched you see her nearly every day. I watched you go to her house for those stupid little movie nights. I watched you sit at home and talk to her on the phone. God, how could you stand listening to her voice that much?”

“Nat was there for me when you weren’t,” you spat, forgetting that she had a knife to the most vulnerable part of your body.

Her eyes shot up at you again, seized with anger. She dragged the knife down to the collar of your shirt as her other hand grabbed a fistful of the fabric, and she started cutting it right off your body. You were reminded that Wanda was not herself now, that she had spent the last two months going insane. You were not safe.

You gasped as Wanda cut right down the fabric of your shirt so easily that it made you realize just how sharp her knife was. She pulled the fabric off your body and threw it down, leaving your upper body entirely naked. She looked down at your chest and seethed.

“You’ve always been so perfect,” she whispered, using her knife to draw a gentle line down your sternum. “I love watching you through the cameras but seeing you in real life is so… fucking… hot.”

She got a little ahead of herself as she dragged the knife down between your breasts, her hand jerking and cutting the skin on the inside of your breast. You shrieked and jumped, feeling tears well up in your eyes and spill down your hot face.

“C-Cameras?” you stuttered, your chest heaving as you breathed through the pain.

Wanda looked up ahead of you, and you tilted your head up to follow her eyes. How could you be so unobservant? In the top corner of your room was a little black circle with a lens, and as your eyes shifted, you saw that every single corner of the room had a little black lens.

“And in every other corner of your apartment, sweet cheeks, as well as Natasha’s.” She laughed at the terror on your face as you realized that you had been watched for weeks on end without even knowing.

Her eyes fell down to your chest where the cut on your breast was bleeding now, gravity tugging a drop of the blood down the center of your stomach. She let out a shuddering, primal growl as she leaned down and brought her lips to the cut.

Your body stiffened as you felt her lips, so close to a sensitive part of your body, kissing the deep cut that started to bleed more. She kissed it again and then ran her tongue over it, moaning at the taste of your blood. It made your face go hot and red as Wanda’s hair tickled your arms, her tongue moving upwards until it swirled around your nipple.

You squealed, thinking about asking her to stop but knowing it was no use, anyway. It scared you the way your body reacted to her, your nipple hardening in her warm mouth as she sucked on it.

She let it go with a pop, coming back up to reveal that her lips and chin were smeared with your blood. You glanced down to see that the breast she had paid attention to had smudges of blood all over it.

“Wanda, please,” you begged. “I’m sorry for whatever you think I did. I didn’t mean to hurt you or—”

A sudden slap to your face stopped you from where you spoke. Your head whipped to the side with the force of the slap, and through the stinging pain of the leathered force you also felt a sharp pain—she had been holding the knife. Warm blood trinkled down your sliced cheek as your flooding tears mixed with it.

“Don’t be so sad, detka,” she purred, taking your chin with hypocritical gentleness and turning your face to look back at her. “You can’t help it you’re a needy slut. I mean, just look at what’s happening. Here I am, cutting you up, and your little pussy is already so wet, isn’t it?”

She rolled her hips forward suddenly, and you felt a hard bulge under the cloak press against your core. The friction made your body shiver, and it was then you realized the wetness between your legs. Wanda grinned widely down at you, looking like a predator with her pearly smile covered in blood.

“Besides, it’s Natasha who stole you from me, and I don’t have to worry about her anymore.”

She looked down at your shorts and started to tug them off, but your eyes widened at her words. “Nat? What did you do to her?!”

“Shhhh…” she shushed you as she peeled your shorts and panties to the floor, leaving you completely naked under her. “Don’t worry, detka. I always clean my knife between kills.” She smirked at you and sat up, kneeling between your open legs.

Your mind raced at thoughts of Natasha—was she dead? Was it your fault? Was Wanda going to kill you, too?

You jumped when you felt the knife dragging across your inner thigh, slicing open your skin that bubbled with more blood. Wanda groaned at the sight, and you felt a mix of relief and fear when she set her knife down on the bed near her hand, far enough out of your reach.

“Just look at you, detka,” she purred as she smeared the blood around on your thigh, the pain vibrating through you. The terror of bloody craze on her face struck a chord inside you that made you both scared and thrilled. “All bloody for me—and so fucking wet.” She moved her eyes to your pussy, using her finger to spread your lips open. Your cheeks burned when you heard the wet sound of your folds moving.

Wanda reached down and grabbed at her crotch, grinning as she leaned back down to you and started kissing the bloody side of your face. “I’ve been waiting so long for you,” she whispered right into your ear, making your skin hot. When her tongue licked up the blood on the side your face, you cringed and whined. She moved her kisses to your neck, biting you with force as she started to grind her hips against you, getting excited.

Your core was throbbing hard as her bulge moved right against you, your knees bending up around her and threatening to spread wider for her. She was putting you under a bloodied haze, and your body was yielding to her. It made you cry harder, but your hand met her shoulder and begged her closer against you.

“Fuck,” she groaned, grinding harder against you. She was breathing heavier now, and when she leaned up to look at you again, there was even more blood on her face. “I want you to watch me fuck you.” She reached down between her legs, and chills ran up your spine as your body tensed in preparation. “I want you to look me in the eyes as I fuck your pussy the way it should be fucked—because it’s mine and you’re mine, and there’s just nothing you can do about that, can you, pretty little doll?”

Your hands grabbed desperately at her arms, words leaving you as your body grew hotter and hotter with desire. She shifted the fabric of her cloak, and pressed herself down against you, her hand still reaching down.

“My pretty little doll,” she breathed as she stared down at you. Suddenly, you felt the tip of something large pressing into you, and suddenly her strap was sliding all the way inside you. You groaned as your walls stretched around her girth, hands grabbing a fistful of her cloak as she buried her cock deep inside you. Wanda only laughed at the look of pain on your face, snapping her hips so that the entirety of her length pushed into you.

“Wanda,” you begged—begged for her to stop, for her to continue, for her to kiss you, for her to let you go—you didn’t know what for.

“Just as tight as I thought you’d be,” Wanda groaned, her eyes rolling back as she started to move her hips. You laid under her, legs spread, bloodied and cut up, letting her fuck you right there on her own bed.

“Too big,” you whined when she started moving faster, her strap bulging tightly inside your pussy. She only laughed again.

“Take my cock, detka. Or would you rather take my knife?” She grabbed the knife again and pushed it right against your throat, causing you to screech in fear. “I would like to leave as many cuts on your pretty body as I can, but I think you might not want me to cut right here, would you?”

You wanted to shake your head but quickly decided against it with how hard the knife was pressed to your throat, so you gave a pathetic, “No.”

“Good,” she growled, her free hand grabbing your hip to keep you still as she started fucking you harder. Grunts of pain left your lips and grunts of pleasure left hers as she drove herself inside you over and over again, thrusting her hips upwards to meet that sweet spot inside you just to drive you a little crazier and make your body betray your mind even more.

It was working. The pain faded and pleasure filled in all the cracks as she fucked you. She was groaning like a wild animal, and the sight of your blood on her face made you even more sickeningly turned on.

Keeping the knife on your throat, steadied with her elbow digging into your collarbone, she slipped her hand down between you and started rubbing your clit with her gloved fingers. The leather was painful at first, but as she massaged your clit just right, it started to propel your pleasure.

Disgusting sounds filled your ears. The squeaking of the bed under her forceful thrusts, the wet squelching of your pussy as she filled it with her cock, the sound of her grunting, and the vibrations of your own moans in your throat that you tried your hardest to keep silent.

Wanda took notice of this and pushed the knife harder on your neck. “Go ahead and let it out, baby. I’ve always wanted to hear you scream.”

It came tumbling out of you as you moaned for Wanda, and it encouraged her to fuck you even harder. The blood from the cut on your inner thigh was mixing with your own juices, causing a symphony of wetness and squelching from between your legs as she defiled you.

Pressure built in your lower tummy that bulged from her large strap filling you up. “That’s it. Cum on my cock, detka. Give yourself to me.”

Wanda was close to cumming herself, and it was evident in the way her hips thrust wildly and without rhythm, her eyes struggling to stay open.

“Wanda,” you moaned, grabbing at her as your orgasm started to crash over you. You couldn’t help but scream as your insides quivered around her, her strap still hitting all the right places inside you as you helplessly came.

Wanda grunted and opened her mouth, quickly reaching down and squeezing the base of the strap as she came. In the middle of your climax, you felt her faux cum spill inside you all at once, pumping you full until you could feel it in your lower tummy.

You were blinded by many things—from the shattering orgasm Wanda had just given you, from the blood loss you were enduring, from the fear and terror of the situation. By the time you came down from your high and could see again, Wanda was looking at your throat. In the heat of the moment, she had accidentally cut it just a little—not enough to really hurt you, but enough to make her go even crazier at the mere thought.

You were shaking and panting as Wanda smirked in victory and in malevolence. She looked over to the ghostface mask beside you and picked it up, pulling it on back over her head. She leaned down closer to you, the black eyes of the mask boring into your own as her head tilted.

“Let’s do another round, yeah? This time with the mask on.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #ghostface wanda #dark!fic #dark!wanda maximoff #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader

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xqueen-of-disasterx · 1 year ago

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Under the mask

Kinktober day 2

Paring: fem!reader x Ghostface!amab!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, DUB!CON, Dom!Nat, Sub!Reader, implied murder, blow job, unprotected sex, riding, Daddy kink (I’m sorry), stalker behavior, clit play, slight dumbification

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

Masterlist- kinktober

A ghost made it was through your hometown. Hiding in the shadows to wait patiently for its next victim. The community in your city was terrified to say the least. The police was useless having no idea who the gruesome could be. The only clue which they did have that the killer must be a male. No woman could be this sadistic they thought, they suspect. Oh how wrong they were. Why the cops interviewed some innocent man Natasha made her way through the cold city. This years October was especially cold leaving anyone outside to freeze especially at this hour. However Natasha was burning in desire. Desire for you. She was watching you for a week now, her body was longing for your youth and sexuality. You were different than her other victims she didn’t want to kill you. Not yet. She wanted you to be hers. There was only one problem; your boyfriend.

You were alone tonight like so often you tried to call Peter to see if he was home but he didn’t pick up making you suspect that he was out with friends . Peter, your boyfriend, rather went out to have a drink with his friends and some chick named Gamora. To be honest you suspected him cheating on you. He’d smile at his phone all the time came home late at night smelling like cheap perfume. You didn’t leave him either, to big was your fear of ending up alone. You made your way into your apartment building up the stairs facing the door. You press the door handle down to notice that the door was unlocked. You looked at the handle confused not knowing how the door could be unlocked when you checked it twice the this morning. You tried to clam your nerves by thinking it must’ve been your boyfriend and not the killer. What would be the chances?

Once you were in your apartment you called out for Peter. No response. You felt a shivers down your spine something was off you weren’t alone here. Your instincts set in and you rushed to the door. Your hand was nearly touching the handle as you felt to arms grab you roughly. The persons bloody knife on your neck pressing the sharp steal against the soft flesh of your throat. “What I nice catch eh?” She pressed you hard against her. “It’s a shame you had to put up with such an excuse for a boyfriend but I took care of that sweetheart” Her touch felt strangely comforting better than Peters could ever have felt. “We are going to have a lot of fun tonight”

The woman with the mask found herself with you on your couch again. The white screaming mask and black clothes hiding her identity from you. You were afraid of her but also aroused at the sight of her bulge. “I’ve you are a good girl I’ll leave you unharmed bunny.” Her voice was sweet like honey pulling me in to her. “Yes of course Daddy” Your knees hit the hard ground as you watched Natasha unbuckle her belt moving her hips away from the cushion to pull down her pants and boxers freeing her thick length. She was big to say the least the biggest you had had yet. “You’re so big daddy” you said in an awe wrapping your hands around her erected penis. “I know bunny but could girls can take it” Your plump lips wrap around her deep red tip your tongue circling it making the woman with the ghost mask throw her head back groaning. You swallowed a few more inches bobbing you head up and done.

You pull away again licking up the sides of her cock spreading the saliva up her thick shaft making her crazy. You lick her balls and the woman above you was in heaven and you. You enjoyed it more than you should. “Do you like that daddy” you ask in an innocent tone your tongue on her shaft again. Nat moaned nodding how how badly you wanted to see her

face twist in pleasure maybe later you thought. You wrapped around her again put this time she had decided that you were way to confident. She place her hands on your head holding it in place as she roughly fucks up your throat making you gag and whimper. The sounds you made were running vibration down her veiny shaft as she grew even more desperate. Her groans turned into whimpers as she emptied herself into your throat. Hot cum shot down into your stomach as you swallowed everything she gave you.

Roughly she pulled you up making you sit on her lap avoiding her still hard member. “Good girl“ she whispered in your ear pulling you up and forward your entrance right above her tip. Slowly she pulled you down making you cry at the feeling of the stretch. You pushed your face into her neck as she filled you up to the brim. She moved your hips back and forth making you cry as you rode her your legs shivering. You clenched down hard as your arousal dripped down your thighs. You babbled some unrecognizable words at he feeling for her finding your sweet spot “Fuck you little slut too cock dump to talk” her hands found your clit. She pulled the hood back rubbing tight circles. “Do you like your clit getting played with” she groaned into your ear. “Fuck I’m gonna-” Natasha interrupted you “cum cum with me” you clenched down hard as you both had your releases her painting your velvet walls white. You collapsed on top of her.

“Ready for round two?”

I do not own these characters all rights go to Marvel

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff

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abbyromanoff · 1 year ago

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YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE

PAIRINGS: GF!Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 5,142

WARNINGS: Nat is ghost face, smut, killing, blood, dark!Nat, Nat has a dick, cnc, dubcon, daddy kink, begging, praise, degrading, fingering, facials, dry-humping, knives, carving, pain kink, hair pulling, manipulation, size kink, tummy bulges, blowjobs, breeding, unprotected sex, kinda dark!R, very dark descriptions of death, kinda depressed!r, mentions of cheating (no cheating actually happens tho), think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Your eerie apartment was filled with complete silence. You could hear the clock on the wall slowly ticking away at your life, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You couldn’t find it in you to care if your entire existence would vanish in the spot, there was nothing left for you to live for anyways.

You clicked through the channels mindlessly, hoping to find something that could entertain you. The pizza box left on the table had three pieces left - all cold. Your girlfriend had been out for god knows how long. Your phone was next to you, taking Nat’s spot on the couch. It was nearly dead, but that didn’t matter, you didn’t get any notifications anyways.

Suddenly, after minutes of surfing through the tv, the blasting sounds of a breaking emergency filled your ears. The news reporter, a blonde woman most likely in her late thirties, stared dead into your eyes without knowledge of it. She read the words from the telegraph, a small shake in her voice as the man next to her hid a fearful gulp.

It started a few months ago, people reported dead all around the city. The only problem was that it was New York, there were small and large crimes daily; no cop, no matter how good, would ever be able to figure out who was the masked killer.

There had already been over ten found bodies, there was a small part of you who wished you were one of them. Blood would smear the walls of the victim's houses, a new letter to create a large sentence being designed ever so slowly. You wondered what they’d do if they got to each letter, would they stop? Would they be caught beforehand? You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to know.

Every video you found online was all about the same topic, who is this new Ghostface, as they called him. When would he strike again? Is it even a he? You didn’t bother, they were just a bunch of conspiracy theorists who had such little to do in their lives that they became so invested in others. So what if they were crazy? Isn’t everyone at least a little bit?

You could hear the sound of keys dangling outside of your door and rolled your eyes, she was back.

“Hey, beautiful.” She muttered when she got near you, planting a kiss on top of your head and climbing onto the couch. She took the spot next to you, accidentally sitting on your drained phone.

“Look who’s home.” She tried placing her arm around your neck, only to feel you shuffle away. You wouldn’t even look at her, only going to stand up and grab the recycling left on the coffee table.

“Oh, c’mon, are you really mad at me?” She attempted to pull you back down, make you sit with her so she can finally hold you; but you shrugged her off. She sighed, rolling her head back and trying to find comfort in the cheap sofa that did nothing for her.

“Why would I be mad? Because you were out all night and didn’t bother to text me or call me back? Or maybe because you smell like that bitches perfume?” You asked, sarcasm evident in your voice. She groaned and stood back up, yawning as she walked into the kitchen where you stood, back facing her as you scrubbed the dishes.

She watched you for a moment, her side leaning on the fridge as she crossed her arms over her broad chest. She waited for anything else, any other comment, but none came. Instead, she grabbed a warm beer from the six-pack box that was resting on the floor next to the counter. She easily popped open the cap and flicked it in the direction of the trash, hoping it made it in.

Your gaze traveled to the side when you noticed the glass bottle being placed next to you and let out a deep and frustrated sigh as you felt her hands rubbing your arms.

“You really think I’d fuck someone else when I have you right here?” She smirked with pure cockiness, it nearly made you want to puke. When you still did not indicate forgiveness or submitting, her smirk dropped.

“Why don’t you believe me, doll? I give you everything you ask and you still don’t trust me?” You felt her crotch poking your backside and tried to hide the goosebumps that arose to the surface. Her hands were gentle as they moved your hair to one side, letting your neck be displayed as you subconsciously leaned into her pecks. She kissed from your exposed shoulder up to your jawline, stopping there as you felt her hot breath against your cold skin.

“Nat-”

“Shh, isn’t this what you wanted?” You showed no evidence to prove her right. You wanted her to feel bad, it’s what she deserved. Who was she to think she can just take off whenever she wants, fuck who she wants, and have the audacity to get annoyed at your worries.

“You’re so hot when you’re mad, makes me just wanna- take you right here.” You felt her hands slide down your pants and dip into your panties. She audibly gasped when feeling your wetness gushing on her fingers.

“You want this, hm? You want daddy’s fingers?” Your palms gripped the ends of your countertop as her middle finger rubbed your clit slowly.

“More.” You choked out, your hips involuntarily grinding into her, chasing the pleasure. She chuckled, shaking her head and tsking.

“No, no, you need to tell me you want it, baby girl.” Your mouth opened, only to release a silent scream as she eased a finger into you. You fucking hated her, despised her, but she knew you perfectly, she knew exactly how to make you tell her how much you love her.

“I want it.” She hummed, signaling for you to continue. You groaned in annoyance, your hand traveling to your chest where you palmed your tits.

“I want it…daddy. I want you, please.” You struggled to get out through gritted teeth, hating how the words sounded coming from your mouth. This was the last time she’d get away with something through fucking you, you’d tell yourself, yet you seemed to repeat those words in your mind every single time. And every single time you ended up back in this situation, orgasms rushing through you while you acted like a desperate whore for any sort of attention she’d offer.

You wondered if her other woman felt the same as you, who couldn’t despise her every move?

“That’s a good girl, you’re daddy’s good little girl, right?” You nodded, your head falling on her shoulder as you tried to find hold of something. Her cock rubbed against your skin as she fucked herself to your pleasured state.

“Cum with me. Make a fucking mess, you slut.”

Your sleeping body laid with the blanket covering only your chest to the tops of your thighs. Nat was next to you, brushing the hair out of your face and smiling at your state. You look beautiful, you always did, but you looked even better when you were shut up for once. She wished she could just fuck that attitude right out of you.

Of course, she wasn’t cheating, no idiot would do such a thing to someone like you. You were a feisty little thing, if you ever found out she was cheating you’d beat her ass into her own grave and plead insanity - she taught you well.

“I’ll be back soon, pretty girl.” She whispered even when knowing you couldn’t hear such words. You shuffled in your sleep and she gave your forehead one last kiss before standing, finding a new pair of boxers and a bra before grabbing her clothing. She had everything she needed in her bag - her mask, outfit, and most importantly, her knife. The best part about it all was that the knife was a custom design you ordered for her for your first Christmas as a pair. It had her initials on it with a heart next to it, reminding her of your love. Your past love for her at least, everything was different now. She didn’t want to hurt you, but you couldn’t figure her out just yet. She’d tell you eventually, she wanted to, she loved nothing more than bragging about her killings, and with you, she’d finally have someone to do so with.

There was still that fear that you wouldn’t accept it though, it wasn’t exactly an easy topic to be brought up. But she couldn’t wait to prove to you that she was in fact loyal, just maybe not clean of her sins.

With one last glance, she left, closing the door behind her and walking down the stairs of the cheap building, shuffling the bag from shoulder to shoulder. She threw it in the car once she found her keys, settling herself in the driver's seat and preparing herself before driving off, her main destination in mind.

“Alright, Mar, let’s see just how well you handle it.” She mumbled to herself, her elbow slamming into the glass of the woman’s back window. She was in, the easiest part was done, and now it was just her time to have fun.

When you woke in the middle of the night, 2:43 AM reading on the clock, you searched for your lover, only to come up empty-handed. You bit back the bile in your throat and threw the blanket over you angrily, grabbing the suitcase you kept under your bed. It was meant for trips, now it was being used to kick out your girlfriend; if she even was that anymore. You didn’t know what changed her, who changed her, but you were done. If she wanted someone else then she could have them, she already used up all the chances you offered her.

Then, there was the sound of the keys rattling, she was back for the last time. You stood up with the luggage in hand, throwing the door open as you were planning to be greeted by a hickey-stained Nat with more excuses pooling out of her, but there was no one to be seen.

“Get the fuck out here, Nat.” You waited for something, but there was no sign of her. You noticed her keys resting on the ground in front of the door, covered in blood. You gulped, taking a step back from nothing.

“Nat? Babe, where- where are you?” You yelled out, your head turning in all directions to look for her. You still found no one, it was pitch black, and nearly impossible to find any sighting of anything besides the luggage by your feet. Your hands were sweaty as your body was stuck in place, you couldn’t move.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Nat, get out here right now.” Hands landed on your shoulders, a low whisper coming to your ear.

“Boo.” You jumped, turning around only to find a person dressed in all black besides their mask. The face covering looked like the design of a ghost, one that a child would draw as their mother praised them for what a good job they did, even if they knew it was horrible.

The man twirled the knife in his hands, watching your fear grow in your eyes and motions.

“Aww, did I scare you, baby girl?” You were able to really listen in on their voice this time, it sounded familiar. You suddenly regretted everything you had said earlier on, you weren’t ready to die just yet.

“No need to be scared, it’s just me.” The man went down on one knee in front of you, knife still in hand near their leg as his hand ventured to his mask, removing the plastic only to see,

“Nat?” She chuckled darkly, reaching up to switch on the light that was sitting on a small table next to you.

“What the fuck was that?” She tried to reach out for your face, only to be pushed away; she wasn’t having that. She gripped your arm tightly, your wrist starting to ache the more she squeezed. She took pleasure in seeing such pain and fear in your features, it somehow made you all the more beautiful.

“Nat- stop it, you’re hurting me.” She smiled darkly as you spoke.

“Perfect.” You thought this was the end, she was going to kill you, your girlfriend was going to kill you. But there seemed to be no move made to do so.

“If you’re going to kill me just get it over with already.” She let go of your arm and you noticed the tensity in her jaw increasing, her head turning just enough for her darkened glare to look all the more dangerous.

“Oh, baby, you really think I’d kill you? There’s no point, it’s not like anyone would miss you.” The words hurt even more than your wrist in the moment, you bit back a remark, choosing to play your cards right and not argue with the woman now pointing a knife at you.

“No, I’m not going to kill you, we’re just gonna have a bit of fun together, alright?” The cold metal pressed against your neck, the sharp tip nearly causing you to leak blood. You whimpered the further she went, your skin barrier breaking as a red substance slowly dripped down your neck.

“Fuck, you don’t know how badly I’ve been wanting this, I’ve been just dying to see you dripping in blood all at the hands of my knife.” You didn’t move, didn’t speak, the fear of what she’d do to you if so indulging you.

“You know, I was planning to come home to my gorgeous little girl laying in bed, ready to take me whenever I want. But instead, I came home to a suitcase of my clothes ready for me, you were gonna kick me out, huh?” You slowly nodded, wetness pooling in your eyes and your shorts. You squeezed your eyes shut in shame, it was so wrong to be needy after such things, she was holding a deadly object to your body and you were still turned on, were you just as crazy as her?

“But seeing that look in your eyes I- fuck, I just wanted you so much more. I was going to tell you, but I- I didn’t know how you’d react, you know?” She was practically manic as she spewed jumbled-up words, her eyes wide and her laugh being as haunted as her soul.

“I mean, just watching Maria on the floor, begging for her life to be saved- it just made me want to shove this knife so deep inside of her and watch as her life slowly drained from her eyes until there was nothing left.” Your own eyes widened at her words, trying to scramble as far away from her as you could. There was no escape though, you were pressed against the wall and she was surrounding every part of you, including your mind.

“Don’t run from me, baby.” She started. “All of this- all of it would’ve been prevented if it wasn’t for you. God, you’re just such a fucking slut, whoring yourself out to practically everyone. Do I not do enough for you? I fucking killed for you and that’s not enough?” You knew this was all the manipulation tactics that she noticed seemed to work with you, and it was working. You were ready to spit out apology after apology, praying for forgiveness, just like all of her victims.

She quickly reached for her bag, and you wanted nothing less than to know what was in there. She grabbed a small book, opening it to show the multiple photos of bloodied victims fallen at her hands. She looked proud, excited, all to show you her work.

“Maybe these people would’ve still been alive if it wasn’t for you.” You tore your eyes away quickly, you couldn’t stand seeing such brutality. It wasn’t your fault, you weren’t the one who hurt them, you told yourself. But there was that nagging thought, what if she did kill them because of you? Sure, you flirted, you had old flings but they weren’t contacted since you started your long relationship with Nat.

“Maria didn’t deserve this, none of them did.” You sobbed out, flinching when you felt her hand on your cheek. It was a soothing matter, one meant to calm you, but it did everything but. Suddenly, the same hand connected harshly with the skin, causing it to instantly redden in pain.

“They wanted you, baby, you should’ve known that. You think I didn’t pick up on Maria’s glances at your ass or these, perfect breasts of yours?” She groped your body with desire, shuddering out a breath while doing so.

“Of course, you didn’t notice, you thought she was just being ‘nice’, so fucking stupid.”

“And Wanda? She had a husband, Nat, a family.” Instead of giving you the response you wanted, an explanation to it all, she just continued to tease your nipples with the pad of her thumb through the fabric.

“You know I’d never kill you, right?” It took you a moment before you could get out a hesitant nod, struggling to fully believe her. You always trusted her, but times changed, and so did she.

“I like hurting people, it excites me. But you, I could never do such a thing, I never want to see you in pain, pretty girl.” She murmurs, moving her free hand to her crotch where she rubbed herself thoroughly.

“I just- you ever get so angry, so sick of someone, you just wish you could, like, kill them? Sometimes when we get into those heated arguments, I just wonder how much you’d be willing to beg me not to hurt you.” You watched as she slowly slid the black suit over her head, revealing her black sweatpants. She lowered them to her knees, and let her boxers make way to your vision.

“I’d never act on it, but with others, you don’t need to care about how much they mean to you, because their life costs me nothing but annoyance. I’d kill every last soul on this planet just for you, all you’d have to do is ask.” She grasped your hand, leading it to her confined cock as you palmed her length. Your breathing was ragged, shaky as you refused to look her in the eyes. You knew if you stared too deep into that emerald glaze, there would be no stopping. You wouldn’t be able to stay mad at her if you saw the care hidden deep inside of her.

“If I let you touch me, will you stop?” The killings are what you meant, but there was a hidden meaning in the words.

“I can’t promise you I’ll be able to, love.” There was a small whimper escaping her lips as you dipped your hand inside her underwear, grasping her cock in your hands as you stroked with a back-and-forth motion.

“That’s it, don’t stop.” You couldn’t believe yourself, you were sick, insane. Was this normal? No, it couldn’t be. But it felt so good, there was no stopping it. You wanted to see her face contort into pleasure, you wanted to see what she’d do to you. Would she treat you the same as Maria? Would she kill you when you were done? Did she mean it when she sputtered those words? You didn’t want to die just yet, you used to think you did, but that was until you faced death with open arms. How could a criminal, a serial murderer, a psychopath look so perfect? She still looked the same, but there was blood covering her hands and her red hair was messy, her forehead covered in trails of sweat.

“I’m- God, you’re such a good little girl, so fucking perfect.” She noticed the way your thighs clenched, rubbing together as your hips jutted into the air.

“Does someone like when daddy compliments them? Tells them how good they’re doing?” You nodded quickly, your mouth aching to land on her crotch.

“Yeah? You like being a good girl? Or do you like being a good little slut for me?” Both. The answer was both. You wanted nothing more than to prove your worth to her, but you wanted her to treat you like you had none.

“I’m cumming, baby, I’m fucking cumming.” She clenched her jaw tightly and groaned deeply as continuous spurts of cum coated your face. She looked down, grasping your hair in her hands to create a ponytail before forcing herself into your mouth. She could feel the salty tears that had traveled down to your lips spreading amongst her dick, making her grin.

“Swallow daddy’s cum, little girl.” She whispered, dragging you up and down as you gagged around her. Some dribbled down your chin, but she didn’t mind, and neither did you. It had been so long since she felt the warmth that was your mouth, you had been refusing to have sex with her until earlier today. When she finally got her hands on you, it felt magical, like a long-awaiting finale to a show.

“Your throat is so fucking tight,” She said. “I know you must be so wet, you like it when I’m rough, don’t ya’?” She extracted her length from your mouth, causing you to let out a multiple of deep breaths. She tossed your loose shorts to the side after ripping them in half, her biceps flexing in the short moment it took to do so.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin you, Y/N.” She rarely ever used your name, it was almost odd to hear such a thing. She got ahold of your thighs, pulling you forward and, if it wasn’t for her your hand massaging the part of your scalp she tugged, your head would’ve roughly slammed against the wooden floor.

Your thighs were then lifted to meet your stomach, her cock standing tall as she guided herself to prod at your hole. She rubbed up and down your folds, moaning lowly at the wetness coating you. She pressed herself teasingly against your clit, watching as your lips twitched upward.

“Nat- condom.”

“Oh, no, baby, I have a little something planned for tonight.” She eyed you with a soft smile as if it was the most obvious thing, you wished it didn’t turn you on as much as it did.

“You giving me that look isn’t going to help your case, it only makes me want to fuck you even more.” She stated when you gulped, giving her a nervous and feared look. This wasn’t your Nat, this was someone else, but you loved her just as much.

“F-fuck, you’re so warm and- tight!” She mumbled as her tip slowly opened you up. It was difficult to fit close to half of her inside of you, you didn’t know how you’d manage all of her. She held girth to her, and she was proud to point it out. She loved noticing how tiny you were compared to her, how her cock seemed to stretch you out more so than anything ever has before. No toy had come close; you became dependent on her length to fulfill your needs.

Your shirt soon joined your shorts as she tore it off you, roughly grasping your breast and squeezing as if it were a stress ball.

“Don’t do that. You’re a big girl, you can take it.” You whined pitifully, but her gaze was only filled with lust as her skin managed to press against yours. You had never once been able to take every last inch of her, but you were so wet, more than you’ve ever been. This side of her brought out something inside of you, something so shameful, you didn’t want to acknowledge it. But Nat did. She could sense how badly you had been wanting to spice things up for months, it was almost starting to turn out to be boring between you two, and she never expected you to act so compliant.

“Daddy, you’re so big.” She rested both arms at either side of your head, staring down at you with an intensity you longed for. You could see how badly she was trying to hold back from hurting you, but she wanted to so much. The thought of you covered in your blood only made her cock throb and pulse. She leaned down, letting her mouth ghost against yours, causing you to pull her forward to connect yourself with her. Her tongue poked at your lips, begging to get a taste of you. You didn’t let her, only pulling back with your eyes slowly trailing from her parted lips to her forest-green eyes.

“Fuck me, Nat.” She never liked her name all that much, she thought it was basic. But hearing it come from your mouth with your voice, it did things to her.

She pulled her hips back, her length sliding out of you, only to fuck itself back into you. Your tits jumped with your body as the thrust, her gaze couldn’t leave them.

She was in a deep state of arousal, even worse than you. And her knife was right there, it would’ve been so easy to repeat her actions onto her own body, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t care if she was a killer, you still loved her, you were as sick and gross as her. If anything, the thought fascinated you. You always enjoyed gore movies, and she was more than ecstatic when she found someone who shared her deep love for such acts, and you thought it was normal at first. That was until she asked you if you ever thought about doing the same things they did. You instantly said no, a little too quickly. Nat knew you were far from innocent, but she loved this part of you more than anything. You accepted her, even if she was insane.

“That feel good?” She asked, her voice coming out in stutters and cracked moans. You had released a loud whimper when she hit that spot deep inside of you, your nails clawing at her skin. She liked the pain, it sent a thrill through her body.

You felt a sharp poke against the skin of your thigh, looking down only to find her weapon covered in the blood of a previous fool, and now you were just the same.

“Nat-”

“Shh, just- shut up and take what I give you, alright?” She let the knife cut into you, leaving red liquid behind as it trailed down your body. It was warm, yet it still sent chills down your spine.

“You look so beautiful with my design, sweetheart.” She had carved an ‘N’, waiting and hoping for the end result where it’d scar your body forever. She didn’t know why she loved it so much, maybe if she hadn’t lied to the psychiatrists, she’d know.

“You think I should do the same thing…here?” Your skin lied a red trail that followed up until your neck, stopping short as she noticed your breathing patterns change.

“I could easily kill you, and no one would know.” She chuckled, bringing her face to rest on your shoulder, her nose against your neck as she inhaled your sweet scent. The knife pressed down a little harder, letting the skin break as a droplet fell.

“I know you won’t.” You whispered, goosebumps erupting over your skin. You were close, so close. You needed her, anything from her.

“Smart girl you are, hm?” Her hips were starting to lose rhythm the longer she went, it was growing more difficult to keep the same pace. The coil in her stomach had been begging to be let free, to finally relax as she came.

“You gonna cum, baby?” You nodded, moans consuming you making it impossible to speak. She finally leaned back, placing her palms on your stomach where a bulge appeared. She gasped, drawing in your attention as you hesitantly followed her vision. You bit your lip in hunger when noticing what caught your girlfriend’s attention, you had found her loving the way she could overpower you at any moment; taking you however she wanted because you couldn’t deny it. She adored being larger than you, it fueled that pride hidden inside of her.

“Oh, daddy must be stretching you out so, so much, huh? You’re just a cute little slut, so small compared to me.”

“Please-”

“Please, what?” She felt her peak rising further, she needed to release.

“Please cum inside me.” She was already planning to whether you wanted it or not, but seeing your dislike to the thought of children or pregnancy, she thought you’d never let her do so. She grinned, throwing her head back as she tried to muster out a response.

“I am, baby, I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you. Cum with me.” She felt your juices coating her length as your legs shook violently. Pumps of her release shot into you, a deep groan caving its way out of her.

“You’ll look so sexy carrying my babies.” She had the image planted deep in her mind, she wanted to make it a reality.

“Yes! Please- God, fuck!” She didn’t stop after your first orgasm, causing your sensitivity to grow until you couldn’t take such abuse anymore. The blood on your skin had dried, and red hand marks that would soon bruise made way to your vision.

“You’re okay, just relax.” You couldn’t believe it, the murderer you had spent nights praising for their impressive kill count and multiple days fearing was your girlfriend, and you didn’t even hate her for it.

“I told you, I’ll kill anyone for you. I want us to get away from the city, find someplace to lie low for a little bit, at least until they cross me out as a suspect. We can be happy, we can have everything you’ve always wanted, together.” She kissed the back of your hand, letting them leave a pattern up your arm until she reached your face, leaving a long and passionate kiss on your lips.

You weren’t ready for this, you didn’t even have money. And there were so many things that could go wrong, but wasn’t it worse in a place like this? There, you’d have a knowing of where Nat would be, she wouldn’t have to hurt anyone anymore. But would she ever really stop? Or was she just saying that to ease your worries? You didn’t know, but you also didn’t care. You’d always have Nat, in any way possible.

“Okay.”

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