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Copycat

Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Dark!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

A/N: I have never written smut before, I had at least five mental breakdowns trying to get this done. This is not what anyone would think of when they think of Ghostface Wanda, this entire thing is like a fever dream to me. This went so far away from the franchise it's crazy. I am sorry in advance.

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

Warnings: Ghostface, 2 Ghostface?, implied murder, knife play, humiliation, degradation, smut, so much smut, Mistress kink, Halloween, dub-con, Dom!Reader, Sub!Wanda, Wanda is a total bottom in this entire thing Minors DNI 18+

Summary: Halloween is around the corner, all you want is a calm night home alone… though it seems the universe can never give you a break. Or; Your phone rings with a mysterious number on the night of Halloween. What’s your favorite scary movie?

Word Count: 6448

You have always taken a liking to Halloween, but even you have to admit this year was turning out to be too much.

Between the excessive amount of Halloween activities and decorations that have taken over your small hometown and the new wanna-be Ghostface, it was starting to get to you.

Since the October month started, bodies have been turning up left and right, all with the same knife lacerations from the iconic Ghostface's choice of weapon. Or, a copy of it, anyway. You don’t have to be a genius to know it's a mere copycat, the real Ghostface only kills on the night of Halloween, not the entire month. Plus, whoever this copycat is, they are sloppy and attention-seeking. The real Ghostface has been killing for over five years at this point, and they have still not been found. This copycat will probably be busted before Halloween even takes place.

Still, you would be lying if you said it didn’t concern you a bit, at least with the real Ghostface you knew when to expect havoc and you could take precautions to keep the ones you love safe. A copycat was not as easy.

You keep caution close to your heart as you continue your way to Wanda's house, you and Wanda have a tradition to watch all of your favorite horrors the night before Halloween since you would both be busy, trick or treating and partying the night of.

Or, she would be busy trick or treating and partying the night of, while you stayed at home worrying about her, with your doors double locked and the porch lights off. Though you like Halloween, you preferred to stay home and comfortable, rather than to fit into a tight outfit and worry if too much or too little of your ass is showing.

You ring the doorbell on Wanda's ridiculously decorated door and wait while you think over what snacks you should buy for yourself before all the partying starts tomorrow.

It's Mrs. Maximoff that opens. “Hey Sweetie, Wanda is just in her room, go right ahead.”

She lets you in with a warm and welcoming smile and a pat on your shoulder. You thank her and climb up the stairs of their expensive house. You like Mrs. Maximoff, ever since you were little you have been best friends with Wanda. When Wanda and her mom realized you were often alone as a child since your parents were divorced and your father wanted nothing to do with you, while your mom always worked to avoid you, they took you in and quickly became your pseudo-family.

You will always look up to Mrs. and Mr. Maximoff for their help and welcoming presence, but it was different with Wanda. Her parents treated you as their daughter and you felt immensely grateful and happy to be a part of it, but Wanda has never been like a sister to you. Even when you were kids she was always so much more to you, though as much as it breaks your heart, you can never tell her that.

Wanda was way out of your league, she was smart, funny, popular, and astronomically beautiful. She was perfect, and you? Well, you were less than, to say the least.

You shake your thoughts off as you enter Wanda's bedroom to find her changing.

You roll your eyes. “I know you could hear me walking up and yet you still chose the last second possible to put your clothes on.” Wanda laughs as she pulls the hem of her t-shirt down.

“Well, I gotta give my little pervert a show, don’t I?” Wanda smiles with mirth and you return it. “Pretty sure you are the pervert in this accession.” You laugh with a shrug.

It's now Wanda's turn to roll her eyes as she lays down, signaling for you to do the same. “Potato potahto,” you smile as she laughs to herself at her stupidity. You missed her, you hung out just the day before, but you missed her on a deeper level, it has been like this for a while so you just push it down as you stare up at her ceiling.

Her ceiling is filled with posters and drawings of Ghostface. Actually, her entire room is filled with it, ever since that night five years ago tomorrow, Wanda has had a deep obsession with the Ghostface killer. And unhealthy obsession, you think to yourself as you see a new replica of the Ghostface mask on Wanda's desk. You look over at Wanda with disapproval at the new addition. Wanda pretends not to see you.

You lean up on your elbows before voicing said disapproval. “Wands, we talked about this.” She too pushes herself up onto her elbows and slaps your arm gently. “It's not that bad,” she gives you her best puppy dog eyes, but you don’t budge.

“It's wrong that’s what it is, you can't simp over a real killer Wanda. It's not right” Wanda huffs. “You are just jealous I am giving someone else attention.” You know she doesn't mean it like that, but it stings when she puts it so bluntly. There is a hint of truth in what she says, but you ignore it. “I am not jealous, you are just sick.” You say it in a lighthearted manner, but you can tell Wanda does not appreciate the call out.

“No, what is sick is what that dickhead would have done had Ghostface not killed him that night.” You stay silent, you have to agree with her on that part. You just nod, but make sure to add a “Still.”

Sensing that this is not the right time, you change the subject by asking what movie to start with.

“Same as always dumbass,” Wanda giggles as she gets up to retrieve her computer. Already set up with Friday the 13th.

The night has dragged on for way too long in your opinion. Kids and teenagers alike running up and down the streets for hours on end sure can piss you off.

You make sure to keep the news on as you scroll through social media, Wanda said she had some family over, so you don’t have to worry about her this year. Which is a relief, you aren’t really in the mood for an extra adventure today anyway, it's been forever since you could just stay home the entire Halloween night.

It's strange, the copycat and the original have not shown their face today. The night is almost over, but only party drama and yelling neighbors have been reported on. The original is one thing, but you were sure the copycat would take advantage of the night. Surely this build-up hasn't been for nothing?

You are almost disappointed.

In the mood for something to do you get around to making dinner, it may be the middle of the night, but like the nocturnal creature you are you don’t care either way. You never had a routine, not until you started hanging out at Wanda’s house, so some habits are hard to shake.

You are just finishing up with the dishes when your phone calls. The newly dried plate clatters as you put it down. You dry your hands with the kitchen towel and make your way over to the couch where your abounded phone lays.

The caller ID is unfamiliar.

“Hello?”

Your brows furrow when silence hangs in the air. Just as you are about to hang up a deep voice answers.

“Hello, is Ms. y/l/n there?” You are a bit dumbfounded, your mother always insists on people calling her by her first name. You can't even remember the last time you heard someone call her by her last name. It must be a work call then, maybe your mother mixed your numbers up. Something that is even more peculiar, you are not even sure she knows your number.

You right your posture and lean more heavily on your right foot, shifting your weight. Already suspicious, you make sure to answer vaguely and straightforwardly. Whoever they are you aren’t interested in talking much more.

“No, I'm sorry. This is her daughter, I can give you her number if you would like?” You can hear a puff of laughter on the other end. Their tone unsettles you.

“Aa, so you must be y/n. I have heard quite a bit about you.” Now that is not right, your mother barely acknowledges your existence, there is no way she talks about you. You have had family members be surprised, that your mother has a child, when they came over for Christmas once. You were seven at the time.

“Who is this?”

Now fully engaged in this mystery of a conversation you turn off the TV and leave the living room, intending to end this conversation swiftly, after getting some questions answered, and going to bed. It is only 1 a.m., but all the noise has been wearing you thin the entire day.

Again, there is a long silence before they answer.

“I'm your mom's friend.” They don’t add anything beyond that. Now you know they are lying, no one calls your mother by her last name if they are her friends. You are curious as to what they could want, however, so you keep the conversation going.

“Oh, really? What's your name?” You subconsciously cross your left arm over your right while holding the phone tightly to your ear.

“You can call me Mike.”

You blink.

“Mike?”

“Yes.”

You remove the phone from where you were holding it against your ear to just look at it for a moment before answering.

“Mike is the only name you could think of? Really Wanda?” You smirk.

“…”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” Wanda avoids your question by asking her own.

You bite your lip satisfied with yourself. You lay down on your bed and make yourself comfortable before bothering to reply.

“SpongeBob” Wanda will find that reference hilarious, you were nine when she introduced the show to you. You had nightmares about that damn sponge for weeks, there was just something about him.

That’s why it takes you by surprise when the voice seems angered by your response.

“This is not the time for games!”

You agree, you are far too tired for these mind games so if this is how she wants to play this then fine.

“Fine, how about this? Who is your favorite killer?” You put extra flair of dramatics into your voice while you question her. The dramatized voice paired with trivia questions comes naturally to you after watching all types of trivia game night shows with Wanda throughout the years.

“I asked you first.” Childish.

“No, you asked me what my favorite horror movie is, I answered.” You thought it over, “Oh well I answered a show, but you get what I mean. Now I want you to answer my question.”

There was a tense rustling on the other end and stomping footsteps before it got silent and the answer was a mere whisper. “Ghostface.”

Not very surprising. You smile to yourself as you roll over on your stomach and fiddle with your dove. You wonder what she is up to.

“It's my turn now,” the deep voice darkened, “Why did Ghostface kill that boy five years ago?”

Your body tenses. You don’t like where this is going, so you play dumb. “How am I supposed to know?”

The voice gets louder. “Answer me!”

You feel yourself tighten a little at her tone, what is she getting at? “Look Wanda I don’t know what you want. I don’t know why Ghostface killed Vision.”

All background noise disappears from the call, you can’t even hear breathing. Then, a strained voice, like cat claws on chalkboard, speaks up.

“Wrong answer.”

Before you can reply the phone call ends. You debate with yourself on whether or not to call Wanda, she usually plays some prank now and then, but this was something else.

You don’t have time to think about it before a knock can be heard on your front door. An unpleasant feeling pools in the bottom of your stomach as you try to ignore it. Plenty of children can’t take a hint and come here looking for candy, you rationalize with yourself.

You are just paranoid.

The knocking doesn't stop, however. You puff your chest before getting up and deciding to put an end to this. When you unlock and tear open the door, intending to give a stern talking to whatever kids were up so late, you are stunned at the lack of anyone.

You slam your door closed and lock it. Whoever they were, they were messing with you. Probably just some bored teens from your high school, or Wanda. Either way, if you didn’t react they were sure to get bored.

Suddenly as you are heading back upstairs the pieces of the puzzle take place.

The voice, Ghostface was known for using a voice box and calling their victims with stupid trivia questions. You knew this well, you just didn’t expect it to happen to you.

You are three steps up the stairs when you hear your door unlock.

You snap your head to the sound. There are only three people with the keys to your house, yourself, your mother, and Wanda. You know Wanda likes her fun, but she wouldn’t take it this far.

The handle doesn't move. You wonder if you imagined it all together? No this isn’t right. You scan your surroundings before going back to the door.

Sure enough, both locks were undone.

“Enough!” You hate to admit it, but you were getting nervous.

“Whoever the fuck you are, fuck off!”

You can hear your phone go off in your room, you curse yourself for never taking it with you as you again lock the door. You take a glass from the kitchen, rigging it up on the front door handle. Some kids don’t know when they have taken it too far, so you have to make sure to be one step ahead.

Like always.

You walk deadly silent as you go to get your phone, now that you have finally caught on, you have no doubt of what game will start once you pick up the phone.

You are being hunted.

You slide your thumb over the screen, picking up the call. You keep moving.

“What do you want?”

The voice sounds ruff and excited. “Me? I am just trying to get someone's attention.”

Go figure. The one Halloween you just wanted to spend in peace the damn copycat has to target you.

“Right. The infamous copycat is it? So is it like a kink or..?” You are standing in your kitchen now, if they want to play, you’ll play. You tighten your hands into fits as you anticipate the comeback.

“Cheeky. No, I am just trying to prove a theory.” This bitch.

You can hear heavy breathing on the other end like they are running… Or have just stopped.

You grab the strongest knife in your drawer. Then you put it back.

It’s a risky move you know, but you also know that no one ever thinks of the back door leading into the woods and it's safer for you to run than fight. At least for now.

“And what do I have to do with this theory?” You chew your lip in annoyance as you lean your body weight forward. Ready to bounce any second now.

“You don’t, you are just an easy target.” This absolute fucking bitch.

“What theory is it that you are trying to prove? Trying to test Ghostface's ability to kill or something? There can only be one or whatever?”

“Don’t be jealous, this will be over soon.” They have no idea.

The glass shatters and you run.

You don’t even think about it, you just bok it straight out of the back door and into the thick forest surrounding your home. You can hear them close behind.

The voice box activates. “There is no point in running!”

Truly an amateur, everyone knows running will be your safest bet when you don’t have a weapon. Fighting should always be the last resort when you are inferior to the killer. It's basic movie logic.

You run until you see it. Your safe haven.

The shed.

The shed creaks open and slams shut as you barricade the door. You have been trying to hold it together all night, but now that you stand there surrounded by your darkest secret and seconds away from revealing it to the psycho copycat, you can't help it. You are getting excited.

It's been ages since you got to play, and there is no need to run now. They are about to enter your territory; they will be inferior.

You have just finished getting ready when you hear the door kick in. Just as expected the killer stops as soon as they take in their surroundings.

Got you.

The copycat threads carefully, the shed is unexpected. Unfaired territory, filled with… Filled with Ghostface?

The shed is a rundown abandoned shit box the copycat has never seen anyone use. Yet here it stands, filled to the brim with every crime and murder Ghostface has ever committed. It's written in more detail than what they could ever put together themselves. They have read any and all pieces of information out there, yet they don’t even know half of the scribbled and planned murders that litter the walls and table.

It only takes a moment for it to set in, they just walked into the lion's den.

And you will show no mercy.

The copycat freezes as a voice rings through the still air.

“Don’t look so disappointed. You are getting what you want, aren’t you?”

You stalk your prey. Your infamous knife is strongly gripped in your right hand, as the copycat turns towards you and backs up in fear. Their knife drops to the ground as you trudge forward. God, it's delicious the way you can see them shiver beneath the poorly-made mask. A mask you have most definitely seen before.

They walk straight into your little homemade table and you take the advantage to press your body into theirs. Your masks almost touching.

“Tell me,” you raise your hands to their covered face. Slowly peeling the mask off as you continue. “What theory was it you wanted to prove? Hm?” Just as red hair reveals itself a hand takes hold of your wrist to stop you from going any farther. That’s fine by you, you know they didn’t realize when you deactivated the voice box.

Nagging them on you continue, “Don’t leave me hanging, what do you want to know? I might just answer it before I cut your pretty tongue out.” You hold the knife up to their face before slowly dragging it down the mouth of their mask and leaving it just under their jaw.

Wanda's meek voice responds.

“I- I I didn’t mean too- too-“

You mock her “too- too-?” “Spit it out pretty girl.” You dig the knife in, just a little.

Too lost in the situation, Wanda hasn't caught onto her voice filling the room.

“Why do you keep killing for me?” So, the age-old question is finally voiced out loud.

You smile beneath your mask. You consider lying, but it's Wanda.

“Because I can.”

Truth be told, it started when you saw the football jock Vision put his hands on Wanda five years ago at a random Halloween party. After that night it evolved.

It just feels right to kill for the things you love.

You don’t let Wanda query anymore, taking hold of her mask you rip it off, revealing her tear-stained cheeks and scared eyes. You have to resist digging the knife in harder, yet it still digs minuscule more. Just enough for one drop.

A single drop of blood that slides onto your gloved finger.

That is what gets you.

Wanda lets out a squeak as you push her onto the table. Your knife never leaves her pale skin. You straddle her, using your weight against her to keep her compliant. You lean closer to her, wanting her to look at you like she did the night you killed Vision.

Scared, but aroused.

You get what you wish for when your gloved hand drags the tip of your knife down her body until you are hovering over her covered breasts. With your left hand, you clutch the fabric of her gown, cutting it open with the knife held in your right. Wanda whines as she squirms to get away from you.

You laugh at her pathetic little sounds as you forcefully grab her by the chin. You lift your mask, only enough for your mouth to be seen, and you press your lips against Wanda´s quivering ones. She only resists for a moment, then a delectable moan vibrates against you. You return it when you push your tongue into her sweet, hot, mouth. You swirl your tongue around while your hands rip open her outfit. You can feel her bra-clad breasts heavy in your hands. You let the knife slice the bra like butter.

You have to break the kiss to give full attention to the sinful heaven exposed in front of you. Wanda turns her head away from you as she catches her breath, you let her. The only thought occupying your mind is how you can destroy her so sweetly tonight.

You kept yourself at bay for so long, but there is only so much you can do when she whorishly seeks you out. And in such a rude manner too. She was using you to get to, well you, but she didn’t know that. A punishment needs to be set in place; one you will have no regret enforcing.

You settle your mask back in place as you stand and move away from the poor birdy.

She looks up in confusion and disappointment when you go.

You pick up Wanda’s knife and walk over to an armchair nestled in the corner of your den. Wanda struggles to sit up as her chest heaves with each manual breath, uncertain of what you want, as you study her from your corner.

You point her knife towards the open door. “Close it.”

Unsurprisingly, Wanda hesitates before complying. You tsk in disapproval, Wanda moves just a tiny bit faster at the sound.

After it's properly closed you instruct Wanda to lock it using the plank you point out. This time she does it in a timelier manner. You nod your approval as she takes a timid step towards you.

When Wanda tries removing your mask you take ahold of her wrist and bend it until she yelps in pain. The surge of power and arousal that shoots through you almost makes you lose your calm, but you soldier on.

Your gaze remains unfaced as she sniffles in pain. “You don’t get to touch me.” You say as a matter of fact.

“Why not,” tears gleam in the redhead’s eyes as she whines.

“Because only good girls get to touch their Mistress.” Wanda melts at your words. Her knees buckle and her nipples harden. You put the knives between the cushions of the ruff chair. You will need both of your hands for this.

As she stands there you can't help but admire her. She looks just the way you imagined she would. Her frame is perfection, even with her clothes hanging off her and tear stains gleaming on her flushed cheeks. You want to eat her up. But first, her punishment.

You act unbothered as you command her.

“Kneel.” Wanda’s eyes widen as her desperation dampens her underwear.

There is a dull thud as Wanda’s knees connect with the water-damaged wood planks. Biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from singing her praise is needed, but you can’t help it when you automatically pet her hair gently in reward.

You think of all the times you dreamed of holding her like the pet she is. Your palm smoothes her hair down while you mule over how long it's been since you had a good orgasm. When she´s putty beneath you, you grab a fist full of red tresses and roughly pull her closer to your crotch.

Taking the hint Wanda lifts your dark gown and gasps at the lack of underwear. It's cute that she convinced herself you believed the copycat was anyone but her. This punishment has been long in the planning.

You push more intently on her. “Don’t stop now. Be a good whore and mistress may give you a reward.”

You are glad you kept the mask on as you drool looking down at her while she gets to work. She’s so tiny and irrelevant, one calculated squeeze and you can have her begging for her life while she eats you out. The power imbalance is almost enough to make you cum before Wanda can put her talents to use.

When Wanda's hot mouth makes contact with your folds, sucking and teasing you, you have half the mind to tie her down and force her to watch while you fuck yourself with your fingers. However, you can't resist her when she finally sucks your clit into her keen, wet, fuck-hole.

You wonder if she has done this before as it only takes a minute for your eyes to roll into your skull. Jealousy takes hold of you at the thought.

You push the redhead away from yourself, sooner than she can get a word out, you lay her onto her back on the cold floor and straddle her face. Wanda goes to grab your hips, but you force her down. Holding her wrists over her head you instruct her to stay still.

You can’t help but tease her by riding the air just higher than what Wanda's greedy tongue can reach. You drag your body slowly back and forth sensually, making sure to let some breathy moans and groans rile her up.

“I thought I told you to be good.” You tighten the grip around her wrists in warning.

Wanda, who had been slowly trying to lean upward, lowers herself. She is smart enough to act remorseful, you decide to let it go this once. Far more concerned with satisfying your thirst you take your seat right on Wanda’s waiting mouth.

Wanda makes the jealousy easier as she moans loudly into your pussy while pushing her tongue against your hard clit. It's erotic the way Wanda’s hips buck aimlessly while your juices drip down her chin.

The harsh oak makes your knees sting and you can only imagine how Wanda's back must feel. Of course, Wanda is too far gone, she’s moaning and rocking against the air with her eyes closed.

With this small turn of events, your punishment needs an adjustment.

So, you improvise. Originally you were going to make her fuck you until you ran out of cum. However, being on the floor may prove to make that difficult.

The jingle of the whore’s boobs, whilst she tries humping anything she can get between her legs, does give you an idea.

Leaning back you mindlessly search the chair. When your hand connects with the handle of your steel knife you grab on. Keeping it behind your back so as to not let the redhead get a peak. You doubt she can even if she wants to, she’s too deep in your cunt for you to see anything besides her closed eyes and the bead of sweat running down her forehead.

She continues lapping up your wetness like a dog, none the wiser as you debate on wheter or not to hold the knife against her jugular. Reflecting over it, she has been good, so you keep the knife behind you. If only to use it if she misbehaves.

Misbehaving seems to be the last thing on her mind however, she is devouring your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth. When she introduces her nose into the mix, bumping it into your clit while you ride her tongue, white-hot pleasure runs through you. Sounds, you have never heard yourself make, escape before you even think to stop them. Your toes are close to curling and tension tightens in your lower back. Yet you rearrange yourself away from the redhead's hungry mouth, now is not the time.

After Wanda finishes gasping for air that you haven’t allowed her, her eyes fly open at the lack of your taste.

You stand over her. Wanda whines in confusion, but you ignore her in favor of fixing your outfit. Wanda stays in place. All fight left in her evaporated as soon as you touched her. You can’t help but scoff at how easy she is.

She looks like a bitch in heat, panting and twitching as you stand over her with your knife gripped like a phyton.

You tilt your head. The torn rags still holding on by a thread annoy you. “Take your clothes off.”

Wanda's eyes lack any thought as she heeds to your every whim.

She removes the cheap outfit slowly, pushing it off her shoulders and down her waist, over her ass, and past her legs. She removes her ruined bra next, sliding it off each arm and letting it fall into a heap beside her.

You sneer at her disobedience.

“All of it.” You accompany the words with a snap of your fingers.

There is a long silence while the demand sinks into her empty head. Then like lighting, Wanda takes off her soaked underwear.

Wanda trembles as you leisurely walk around her, tapping the knife in a rhythm against your other hand. Completely nude and vulnerable, just how you like her.

You stop in front of Wanda´s open legs. Her body is begging for you to touch her, she is heaving, drooling, desperate. And you have no plan on lessening it.

Ever since you were younger Wanda has always been a particularly touchy person, she needs human touch to function. Without it, she can't do certain things. Like how she refuses to take a walk unless you hold her hand, and how you can see her struggle to get up and shower if you don’t promise cuddles after.

That’s why when you found her little devious plan three months ago you decided the only punishment fit for a sadist like her would be to remove all sense of touch. Deprive her of the one thing she needs to cum, your touch.

You return to your chair. “Touch yourself.”

Wanda swallows thickly as she watches you beneath heavy lids before nodding to herself. You have seen the way Wanda slowly gathers her wetness and spreads it around her libido while her breath turns shallow many times when you silently sneaked into her bedroom, always mindful of what floorboards would give you away. This is different, this time she is doing it for you and only you.

Wanda never breaks eye contact through the black mesh of your mask. It's only when she pinches her clit that her head gets thrown back and a prolonged moan emits from her that she can’t keep her act up. She is close, but if you play your cards right, she won’t be going over.

You dig the knife into the armrest and swirl it back and forth, fiddling like you're bored.

You can sense Wanda studying you from where she sits just a few feet away, but you overlook her.

Wanda, very much, does not like this newfound disinterest you have in her. She speeds up her fingers, moving them clockwise and pressing down hard. Every time she tries to get your attention by moaning louder or trying to press her foot into your boot you tune her out and move away.

Just as you thought, when the redhead’s orgasm approaches, she struggles. Her moans of pleasure turn into whines of frustration, and you don’t even look at her. You keep your focus on the knife. This is where the real punishment starts, one mistake from you and you know she will have no issue falling over the edge and screaming her pleasure for the entire world to hear. No, you will make her suffer if only a little.

After all the running you have had to do tonight you are making sure she will be left breathless and exhausted before an orgasm is in order.

For ten minutes you distract yourself, for ten minutes Wanda balances painfully on the edge of pleasure.

You only take mercy on her when she taps the floor twice.

Raising your eyes you see Wanda with fresh tear tracks running down her cheeks while her fingers work overtime trying to move faster than you have ever seen them move before. You have to hold back a moan at the sight.

You stand slowly, dragging every movement out. Wanda stares wide-eyed and hopeful as she cries from the pain and pleasure. You make your way between spread legs and crouth down to her eye level. You lift her chin with the tip of your knife, and when she stops her movements, you know you have her attention. Without uttering a word, you remove your mask with your unoccupied hand.

As soon as your face is free of its confinement and Wanda sees you in all your mad beauty since she entered your chosen playing field for the night, a moan so deep and gurtal leaves her dumbfounded. While she is distracted by the new sound she can make you hold eye contact and leave the knife in place, but without looking you reach down and pinch her neglected clit so hard she screams.

She comes so hard she sees stars for minutes after you stroke her through her aftershocks.

When she gets back to herself you are laying on top of her and petting her sides. She doesn't even realize she is crying until you carefully wipe her tears away while praising her. “There you go, baby.”

“It's okay, you did so well.”

“Mistress is very proud of you.”

“Just breathe for me, honey.” “That’s it honey, good job.” You pet her while she gathers herself under you.

She came for a full three minutes before she passed out. As worried as you were in the moment you have to admit you are a little proud of yourself. That is definitely the hardest you have ever seen her cum.

After a while, you can hear her mumble something.

“What’s that baby?”

Wanda, in a surprising turn of events, locks you against her chest and flips you both. You blink up at her as she giggles from your tense reaction.

“Sorry,” you watch her giggle to herself and you know for a fact she is not sorry, “I couldn’t help it, you just look so cute when you are surprised.”

You grin with her but you also grab the knife beside you and lift it to her neck. She quickly stops laughing, but she isn’t scared. Not anymore.

“Behave, don’t forget who´s in charge here.” You fix her with a stern glance.

Wanda deflates a little, but her hands never leave you. She trails her hands up and down your body, groping everything she can. You dig the knife deep enough to where she has to stay still if she wants to keep her vocal cords.

Wanda mewls, “please.”

You roll your eyes at her. “Please what?”

“Please can I touch you, Mistress?”

You smirk, “You are touching me.” The disappointment rolls off of Wanda, but she knows what she needs to do.

Not wanting to actually hurt the redhead you had loosened your pressure without realizing it, Wanda uses that to her advantage. The deviant redhead swiftly moves your hand out of her way to attack your mouth with a round of kisses. She then pushes her tongue in, and swirls it teasingly around yours. You moan into her as she grinds her leg against your covered clit.

You let this go until you need her inside you.

You pull her off you and grab her neck. You tighten until she wheezes then you speak.

“If you ever disobey me like this again I will tie you down with a vibrator and leave you like that for hours. Do you understand me?” The redhead nods as best as she can.

You let go of her neck only to grab her hair again. You stand, dragging her with you. “Sit.” You point at the chair as you let go.

Wanda obediently listens without defiance this time.

“You are lucky,” you tell her as you straddle her thighs. “if I wasn’t in the mood for an orgasm I would have you over my knee now. You grind into her lap as you speak. This time when Wanda goes to grab you, you let her.

Wanda controls your hips as you pound yourself into her lap. She is more than eager to comply when you command her to put a finger in.

You ride her until you can't take it anymore and reach down to draw tight circles over your forgotten clit.

You cum so fast it almost gives you whiplash. Wanda moans with you as clear liquid coats her hand.

You both fall into an exhausted pile of post-orgasm bliss as you settle. Wanda cuddles into you and you lean your chin atop her head. She nuzzles into your neck and sighs with satisfaction.

You are half-dosing when a giggle abrupts from the girl in your arms. You look down at her with a confused tilt to your head. Wanda is already grinning up at you.

“Same time next year?” You laugh at your girlfriend of six years and nod while kissing her sweaty forehead.

“Same time next year.”

(Oh sorry, forgot a tag: Role-play)

#fav #fic rec #reblogging this again because it’s actual art.#marvel #wanda maximoff

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