wndanatz - Tumblr blog

wndanatz · 8 months

Text

don’t care about the fact that she’s so fucked up in the head. at least she remembers we like pink bandages

BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS. mdni. 18+.

pairings: dark ! natasha romanoff + f ! reader

summary: natasha has always liked to hunt, and it's even better when her prey is a pretty girl

warnings: violence, abuse, bear trap, injury, established kidnapping/established relationship, almost outdoor sex, public indecency, hair pulling, impact play, groping, guns, daddy kink

wc: 3.2k~

“Natasha, please.” You whimper, grabbing at her wrist to try and ease some of the strain on your hair as she drags you out of the house and through the yard. “Stop, I don’t want to do this.” Tears are rolling down your cheeks now from the pain in your scalp and your face from the previous punches Natasha threw your way.

“Really? Could’ve fuckin’ fooled me.” Natasha growls, tugging harder and making you trip over your own feet before she hauls you up, only to push you to the ground afterwards, glaring at your shaking form on the ground.

This was your fault, you shouldn’t have tried to run. It was stupid, you know that now. You just wished you had more freedom, that’s all.

You were naked save for the panties and bra she allowed you to keep on, having forced you to strip about ten minutes prior. Your body trembled in the chilly autumn air of whatever part of Russia Natasha inhabited, one of the Oblasts you think, it was the most likely, but you weren’t sure. She didn’t like to keep you conscious while she was traveling, so you were never quite sure where you were. But you know you’ve been in this specific place for a while now, at her out of place house, in the middle of nowhere, in the Russian wilderness.

You startle when you hear a knife make a soft thud on the grass next to you and you look up at Natasha, sniffling and trying to wipe your tears away. You know she doesn’t like it when you cry over nothing like this. “Tasha, I’m sorry, I promise. Please, I’ll be good, I don’t want to do this again.” Your bottom lip wobbles and you try to keep your voice even, but it trembles and you know Natasha heard.

“Don’t ‘Tasha’ me.” She scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Pick up the knife. Get up.” And when you don’t make any moves to get up, still hoping she’ll change her mind, she lands a harsh kick to your thigh and you whimper. “Now! Don’t make me say it again.”

You squeak involuntarily, tears starting to spill down your cheeks again. You don’t like when Natasha yells at you, even more than you don’t like when she hits you like this and treats you like a ragdoll. ‘If you don’t like it, then don’t do anything to deserve it’ you can hear her voice in the back of your head. You shouldn’t have done anything to upset her. Everything that happens from now on is your fault, you know that, but still, you can’t help but wish Natasha would be just a little nicer.

You grab the hunting knife with a shaky hand, gripping the handle and starting to stand up. “You want to be a good girl?” She asks and you nod hesitantly, you know where this is going. “Then you can be a good girl by getting out of my sight. You wanted so badly to leave this morning, so go on then.”

“But Tasha, I’m not– I’m–”

“What the fuck did I just say? Go!”

The loudness of her voice is enough to have your body moving before your brain even registers what she said, scrambling away like a scared animal. You’ve always hated when Natasha got like this, you don’t like this game. You’ve never played it like this, but it’s never been fun either way.

The game is really quite simple, Natasha is the predator and you are her prey. She gives you five minutes to run– ten minutes if she’s feeling particularly nice, before she comes after you. The knife is because she’s not that cruel, she doesn’t want some wild animal to be the reason you die. You are in the Russian wilderness, afterall. All of the previous times she’s done this you’ve been fully clothed, though, and you wish she had let you keep your clothes on this time, too.

She must have been feeling particularly mean to make you do this in the current weather. It’s not horribly windy, but the air is not still either, and the wind that blows past is bitter and cold. You think the time on the clock read 4:26pm when Natasha dragged you through the living room, which meant you had about two hours before the sun would set.

Natasha had never really let you outside late enough for the sun to set, and you weren’t entirely sure you wanted your first time out past sunset to be in the forest, but you also didn’t know what exactly she would do when she found you. Natasha was unpredictable. Some days she was soft and gentle, like she was when you first got together, and other days she was mean and cold, treating you as if you were nothing but a burden she had to drag around with her. You knew she didn’t mean it, though. If that’s what she really thought then she would have dropped you off in the middle of nowhere months ago, maybe even left you years ago, and drove off without so much as a look back.

Your feet are sore as you run across the ground, rocks and dirt sticking to your bare feet, twigs scattered everywhere, some sharp and some not, digging into your flesh harshly. You know you’ll be cleaning cuts when you get back to the house, but you try not to focus on the pain so you can focus on where you’re going instead. You know that the closest village is about 15 miles away, an impossible distance even when you’re running your fastest.

It would take around two hours to get there and Natasha would never let that happen anyway, the longest she’d ever taken in her little hunt was 45 minutes because you’d somehow managed to climb a tree. You never did that again after how terrifying it was to have her climb up after you and practically throw you down from it.

You could never go into the village in your state of undress anyway, something Natasha was counting on.

You don’t know how long you’ve been running for when you stop to catch your breath, if it’s been less than or more than ten minutes– the maximum amount of time Natasha would have given you to get a headstart. Not that it really mattered, the outcome would be the same no matter how long you’d been running. That, at least, was predictable.

You hear a gunshot in the distance and you bolt. You didn’t know she had that with her, you didn’t see it before back at the cabin. She’d never used it on you, only to scare you, but that doesn’t mean today won’t be the day that changes. She did seem rather volatile today. You look behind you and you can’t see her anywhere, not even a glimpse of her red hair.

Is she using her gun to signal that it's been five minutes? Ten minutes? That would be new. But what else would she possibly be wasting a bullet for? …Is there someone else out here? No, there couldn’t be, there’s never been before. Who would have found their way all the way out here? You don’t even know where here is, so why would anyone who isn’t Natasha know where you are?

And if there is someone else out here, was that Natasha’s gun firing or theirs? Your heart is beating faster now, moreso out of genuine fear rather than nervousness like before. Sure, Natasha could be scary, but she’d never evoked this kind of fear out of you before. You’re conflicted now. Should you keep running or should you go back to see if Natasha is okay? You have a knife, surely you could help? But what good is a knife against a gun?

Your mind is going so fast you can barely keep up. You hadn’t felt this anxious since you thought Natasha was going to die in the hands of Ultron all those years ago.

Your feet are moving on their own and with your constant glances behind, you aren’t paying any attention to where you’re running. You even climbed… something, but you weren’t paying enough attention even to that. Usually, you’d be more vigilant, you know that Natasha likes to set traps sometimes, keep you nervous about what’s out there and give you a reason not to try and escape.

But you’re not paying any attention to the ground below you as you run, too focused on the gun shot you had heard that you don’t see the trap in front of you. You had never been up here anyway, you never would have known about it. You barely even feel yourself stepping on the pan in the middle until the two steel jaws clamp around your ankle and you let out a blood curdling scream.

Bear traps aren’t supposed to hurt like this, they’re not supposed to be this sharp. Natasha was just cruel.

You instantly drop to the ground, on your knees first and then sitting as you uselessly try to pry the trap off of your leg. Your hands are trembling and covered in blood as you cry. Just the sight of all your blood is almost enough to make you pass out. You hiccup on your own sobs, trying to figure out how you could possibly get this trap off. You wish Natasha were here.

Natasha grunts as she pulls herself up onto the top of a rock face. How you had strayed so far from your usual path, she had no idea. Well, she had a little bit of an idea. She did fire her gun just to make you jump. She can tell you’d been here, though, if the fresh blood on the sharp rock was any indication. Her poor baby, you must have cut yourself, why didn’t you just choose another direction?

Once she’s on her feet again, she looks around for any other signs of you. The grass is flattened to the east and she narrows her eyes as she looks further in that direction. She knows that climbing must have slowed you down a lot, and if she knows her girl, then the pain from whatever cuts you have will have you whining and complaining to yourself the whole time. If she listens close enough, she’d probably just be able to hear you, so she walks in the direction of the flattened grass.

She pauses for a second and then crouches down to get a closer look at the ground. Yes, you were running away from the rock face, not towards it. And it looks like you have a few cuts on the bottom of your feet if the dark maroon stains on some of the blades of grass meant anything. Natasha supposes she could have been a little less cruel and given you shoes, but it’s a little too late for that now.

She stands again and begins walking further, she’s not running, no longer worried about how far ahead you may have gotten. You’d be tired by now even without any injuries, and Natasha was much faster than you even on your best days, it didn’t matter if she ran or walked now. She was in the home stretch.

She looks down at the watch on her wrist and hums. It had been 20 minutes since she’d set you free, and that was more than enough time for her to simmer down at least a little bit and for you to trap yourself in your thoughts of her being mad at you. Ones that would have you pleading at her feet, she’s sure, begging her to forgive you more than you were before.

And she has simmered down, realized that perhaps her reaction to the fear of you wanting to leave her wasn’t quite appropriate. But really, when were any of her reactions appropriate? This was an okay approach, she reasons, making you realize you never wanted to be without her.

And then she hears it. A scream in the distance.

Natasha’s fingers twitch and she wonders if she should fire another blank or not. She slows her breathing and does her best to create minimal noise as she walks towards the source of the sound. She knows it’s you, but she doesn’t know what has you screaming like that. If it’s an animal, she can sneak up and kill it before it hurts you. And if it’s not, well, she might be in for a little treat.

She’s not disappointed when she sees you sitting down and leaning against a tree, sniffling as you look down at your leg. Your very bloody leg, actually. And then Natasha’s eyes focus properly and she sees the trap clamped tightly around your leg, the teeth from the jaws sunk into your flesh. Poor thing, you’ll never see her coming. Unless…

She considers having a little mercy, but once she knows she’s close enough to be in your eye sight and for you to panic, she reaches into her back pocket for her gun and fires it into the air.

She watches as you practically jump out of your skin, and a pained whimper slips past your lips, looking around with wide eyes until you spot her. You’re like a deer caught in headlights and you know there’s nothing you can do now, you can’t run and even if you tried, you wouldn’t get very far, the trap is chained somewhere to a chain fence stake somewhere in the ground.

Natasha stalks towards you, eyes hungry as she takes in the sight in front of her. “Run into a little trouble, did you?” She grins, wolf-like, and crouches in front of you. “This looks like it hurts, baby. You poor thing.” And you know she’s going to do something bad when she reaches out, but you don’t expect her to start poking and prodding at the injury.

You whimper and your fists clench at your sides, “T–Tasha, please.” Your teeth clench, “Stop… Yes, it hurts, ah!”

She chuckles and grants you a little mercy. She presses down on the springs on both sides, using her strength to open the jaws, “Move your leg.” She instructs when your leg is finally free of the metal, the dislodging causing a pained whine to escape your lips. When all you do is sniffle and look at her she sighs, “Now or I will let it go and we both know you don’t want that.”

Hesitantly, you move your leg out of the trap, wincing when you feel a jolt of pain shoot up your leg. Natasha lets go and the trap snaps shut before she picks it up and tosses it somewhere behind her, you hear it hit the ground with a dull thud. “There. Aren't things always better when you listen to me?”

She takes a second to properly examine the injury you’ve sustained. The wounds aren’t too deep and they’ll definitely need some cleaning and they’ll take time to heal, but that is something she’ll worry about later. For now…

“You didn’t lose my good hunting knife, did you?” she tilts her head to the side and you shrink a little under her gaze. “W– Well, I didn’t really lose it, I promise, b– but I didn’t have anywhere to put it and I needed my hands and–”

Natasha cuts you off with a kiss and your eyes widen in surprise. You thought she’d be mad at you, not kissing you, but maybe this means you’re forgiven. “Don’t care, I’ll find it later. Seeing you like this… We might have to do this more often.” Her hands roughly grope at your breasts and you whine before she rips your bra off of you entirely, it’s times like this where you’re reminded of just how strong she actually is.

You want to cry at her words, yell and tell her you don’t want to do this again, you don’t like this. Tears well up in your eyes at just the thought of having to do this again, especially in a state of undress like this and you wish you could tell her to stop, that you don’t want this anymore, you can’t take it, but you know you can’t. After all, what would you do without her? Even if being with her means you get hurt like this sometimes, you don’t think you could really ever live without her. You just wish she’d go back to being sweet Natasha all the time.

Natasha interrupts your thoughts with another kiss, this one a little more hungry and insistent. You wish she would at least take you back to the house, but it seems that she wants you now and she’s unwilling to wait. You could try to convince her to at least tend to your injury first, but you doubt that she would listen.

“Tash–” You start and she moves to start kissing at your neck because of the interruption, “Tasha, please, let’s go home first. I’m filthy, don’t you want to clean up first?”

She groans as she pulls away from your neck, taking the time to examine you properly. Her heart skips and she growls, the sight of you like this excites her, even if you’re covered in dirt and blood. “No, you want to go home and clean up first, but I don’t remember asking.” And that’s all you get before she’s back to kissing and biting at your neck.

One of her hands moves down to toy with the waistband of your panties as the other gropes at your chest. You let your head fall back against the tree and you wish you could focus more on Natasha, she always makes you feel so good and it’s not like you’ve never let her fuck you while injured before, but your leg is throbbing and the whimper that falls from your lips is more from pain than pleasure.

You push at her shoulder weakly and the look she gives you when you make her pull away for the second time is deadly. But you know she cares, you know she does, you just have to hit the right spot when you speak next and so you go for a weak point, “I–It hurts a lot, Daddy, please. I’ll be good and we can do whatever you want, just please can we go home first?”

Her expression softens a fraction and you know you’ve won. Natasha may be unpredictable, but there is always one thing that stays the same: her need to protect you.

“...Fine.” You’re surprised she’s not actually pouting as she grabs your bra and shoves it partially into her back pocket before standing up. She cracks her knuckles before leaning down and picking you up bridal style, making sure your injured leg is the one furthest away from her body. “I think we still have those pink bandages you liked so much.”

Yes, you were definitely forgiven.

#arya recommends #sobbing shaking yelling crying screaming

905 notes · View notes

wndanatz · 8 months

Note

Do you write about Agatha Harkness?

i do!! she’s one of my favourite characters plus i love kathryn hahn

#arya responds #anon

1 note · View note

wndanatz · 8 months

Text

I rewatched wandavision recently

2K notes · View notes

wndanatz · 8 months

Text

i read meow meow and i was like oh cute i love meow meows and then i read this and cried bc i also wanna be wanda’s meow meow connected to her via magic and now im just

familiar ࿏ wm

summary: in which you are agatha's gift to wanda.

words: 6.1K

warnings: f!reader, magic, drugging, transfiguration, angst, captivity, meow meow, oral (r giving), fingering (r receiving), strap-on (r receiving), meow meow meow, witchcraft duh, i wish i was a cat, this is not a furry thing i promise

this post is for 18+ only. minors: dni.

masterlist.

It’s cold. You can feel the goosebumps rising on your skin, your body shivering as you come to.

It’s dark. You open your eyes and see nothing at first, nothing but total blackness in front of you. Something feels very strange, and a flare of anxiety roars in the pit of your stomach, your heart racing fast in your ears. You feel cold metal beneath you, and as your eyes adjust, you see the shape of metal bars in front of you.

A cage. You’re in a cage, and there is a blanket thrown over it. Leaning closer and blinking your eyes wildly, your focus comes to, and you can see through the veil of the thin blanket covering the cage. You only see shadowy hunks of furniture, a table covered with some sorts of tools and objects, a staircase nearby leading towards the only source of light. Your breath comes fast through your mouth, chest heaving as panic surges through you like electricity.

How did you get here?

You remembered being on your daily morning walk through the Westview suburban neighborhood. You did that every morning. It seemed like it was always spring in the little town, always sunny with cool breezes and chirping birds. You soaked up every second at the rise of dawn when the town was still sleepy and quiet.

You minded your business. You didn’t talk to anyone except for your neighbors, Wanda and Agatha. There was the occasional conversation on the street. Wanda’s hand waving politely to you from her porch as you passed by on your walks. Agatha helping herself to your front door, always visiting you and inviting you over, which oftentimes you declined just out of being antisocial.

They were both different shades of nosy neighbors. Agatha was confrontational and upfront, wanting to hold lengthy conversations every time she saw you, always snooping around and asking personal questions. Wanda was a different kind of nosy. She watched you from afar, always. You’d learned to live with their eyes on you, but you didn’t always mind Wanda’s. She seemed like a nice woman, though you hadn’t been able to understand why she seemed so interested in you. You also didn’t understand why you seemed equally interested in her.

That morning, Agatha had caught you on your morning walk right as you were quickly jogging past her house, wary of her stopping you as she always did. Of course, it seemed like she knew the exact schedule of your walks and came outside right as you passed.

“Why don’t you come in for tea, dear!” she had said, boldly grabbing your hands. You remembered how tight her grip was. “I make the best tea in town!”

You were tired of always declining her invitations. You didn’t want to seem rude. You were just the lonely girl next door who minded her business and didn’t want to get mixed up with anyone in town, but she was persuasive and consistent. So, you said yes. You went into her house and found it quaint but charming inside. She led you into the kitchen to make the first cup of tea, and you sipped it slowly as she talked about random things.

She offered to make you another, one to go that you could sip on your walk.

You remembered her saying in the kitchen that she didn’t have any tea left in there but kept some in stock downstairs in the basement. She ushered you to follow her so she could show you her wide tea collection. You remembered stepping down those concrete steps into cold darkness. You don’t remember ever seeing her tea collection.

Shivering in the cage, you tried to cross your arms around your body—something suddenly felt very strange to you. For the first time, you glanced down at yourself. At first, you thought you saw your normal hands and normal arms and legs. Your brain was used to seeing the same body every time it looked down, so it tricked you in the dark. As you looked closer, the horrifying realization washed over you as you realized that your hands were now small paws wrapped in black fur.

You tried to scream, but it was like something was wrong in your throat. You only let out an animalistic shriek, a sort of growling and hissing screech. You stumbled in the cage, your back hitting the metal bars. It was then you saw your cat tail, and your hind legs, and you could see the shadow of whiskers in the corner of your eyes, protruding from your own face.

Your entire body, much smaller now, trembled and shivered, and you could feel the line of fur rising stiffly on the strip of your back. What the hell happened to me?

Your heart rate was faster now, faster than you had ever heard it in your entire life, and your ears flinched and stretched as they picked up noises nearby. Your hearing was shockingly acute—you could hear birds somewhere above the ground, outside of the basement you were now caged in. You could hear a car drive past, the sound of a phone ringing in someone else’s house down the block.

You crumpled into the corner of the cage and bent your body into itself, dwindling your new body down into a pathetic ball. You could smell everything—the iron in the metal cage, the dust on the walls, perfumes of strange potion-like smells from inside the basement.

Then you heard the front door open inside the house upstairs. Your eyes widened, pupils constricting as your ears twitched to listen. Footsteps down the hallway, the muffled sounds of Agatha’s voice, then another’s.

Wanda’s voice.

Your tail fluffed up when you heard the heavy door to the basement squeak open. You wished you knew what time of day it was, but it was completely dark in the basement. You could just barely see through the blanket as two pairs of legs walked down the stairs and towards your cage. You tried to back further away, but your fur was touching metal.

“The entrapment itself wasn’t so difficult,” Agatha’s voice spoke languidly. It was so much different from how her voice usually sounded—endearing, pleasant, charming. It was harsh and deep now, like she had pulled off a mask and was happy to be her usual deviant self again. “A few drops of draught in her tea, and she surrendered.” Her harsh laugh hurt your ears.

She poisoned my tea? you thought to yourself, fear broiling hot and deep inside you. You didn’t know it was possible to feel this afraid.

“I will admit,” Agatha said as her and Wanda’s legs stopped right in front of the cage. “The transfiguration itself was…difficult. Her body resisted, the stubborn little thing. I thought maybe she’d do well as a bunny, or even a turtle… Well, I hope you’re not allergic to cats because…”

The blanket was suddenly lifted from the cage. Even in the dark basement, the adjustment of light burned your eyes, and you let out an instinctive hiss, jumping up on your legs and turning your side flat against the back of the cage, back and tail fluffed into black, pointy spikes of fur. You felt a flare of passion in how intimidating you probably looked, but as you looked up at Wanda and Agatha who towered over you like giants, you realized just how small you were now.

Agatha crossed her arms and looked disdainfully at you, pursing her lips in disappointment. Wanda, on the other hand, was staring down at you with wide, misty eyes, her mouth forming into a soft, “Oh… y/n.”

Your eyes darted between the two women, and the dark of the basement grew even brighter as your pupils swarmed wide, your vision throbbing with your own fear. Your entire body was quivering and tensing uncontrollably, your back starting to ache.

Wanda leaned down slowly so that she came closer to the cage. Through the bars, you saw the teary look in her eyes. “Is she… still…”

“She’s still there in the head, unfortunately,” Agatha said, looking at you like you were rodent. “I know that’s what you wanted.” There was venom in her voice, but then she sighed and spoke happily again. “This is your first step to becoming a proper witch, not that you need my help in the power area.” She clicked her tongue jealously. “But a familiar is necessary for a witch’s emotional wellbeing.” She looked over at Wanda, eyes flickering down her to try and read her.

You stared up into Wanda’s big green eyes that looked now like shimmering full moons. You wanted to scream, to ask them what the hell they were talking about, to undo whatever Agatha had done to you, but all you could let out was a little catlike whimper.

“Oh, baby,” Wanda cooed, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Don’t be scared.” She started to put her hand through the bars of the cage slowly, her fingers passing between the metal. A hot instinct struck you from the inside, and without thinking, you hissed and swatted your paw towards her hand. You felt your claws, which you didn’t even realize you had, tear at her skin.

Wanda gasped and withdrew her hand, clutching it to her stomach. You saw a long, jagged scratch mark on the back of her hand, and felt overwhelmingly shocked and guilty at how fast it started to bleed.

“Bad kitty!” Agatha exclaimed and kicked the cage. The jolting motion scared you and you lost balance, clambering to crawl back into the corner of the cage into a defensive little ball.

“No, it’s okay,” Wanda quickly said, looking up to Agatha. “She’s just scared.” She looked back to you, forgetting all about her hand which was now dripping blood on the floor. “Can she transform back…into human?”

Agatha subtly rolled her eyes. “Yes,” she said reluctantly, “But it would probably take me days to do it. It would involve a lot of magic—”

Wanda cut her off by raising her hand, red embers flowering between her fingers. You suddenly felt a strange motion inside you, your body stretching and skin changing as you started to swell in size. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out an ear-piercing snarl, and slowly it turned into a human scream.

It stopped, finally. You opened your eyes and found that suddenly the cage was too small for you, and Wanda and Agatha were normal size again. You looked down—you saw your human hands and arms and legs, your normal skin. You were human again, bent nakedly in the small cage. You wrapped your arms around your body to cover yourself.

Agatha looked shocked and infuriated at the fact that Wanda had so easily changed you back, after all the work Agatha had done to transfigure you. “Well…” She cleared her throat and adjusted her shirt. “Just do that when you want her to be a cat again.”

You shivered in the cold of the cage, too afraid to speak in fear that the only thing that would come out were unintelligible meows. Even now, back in your human state, you felt unimaginably different, like something had shifted in your DNA. You could still hear and smell everything, down to the metallic scent of the blood on Wanda’s hand, and the sound of her own heart beating to make up for the lack.

It shocked you how differently Wanda was looking at you compared to how Agatha looked at you. Wanda looked mesmerized, hopeful, and guilty all in one. Her eyes flickered over you, and she started to slide her hand through the cage again. You felt the urge to scratch her again, but you realized your claws were now dull fingernails, and you didn’t like the way you had so primally swatted at her and how easily she had bled.

“Kitten,” she whispered, bringing her hand to your face. You cowered away but she continued, gently moving your hair with the tips of her fingers. Something in you wanted to purr, but you didn’t. “I’ll call you Kitten.”

The first few days of being Wanda’s familiar were tough. While she politely kept you in your human form, she kept you in a cage in her bedroom, a larger one that you could fit in, and told you rather apologetically that she must keep you there until she can trust you. You were silent at first, pained and confused by what had happened to you, until you started to break. You grabbed at the bars of the cage and jumped at her, screaming, “Let me out! Please let me out!”

You could see how much her heart broke at your refusal and denial, but what did she expect? You had been captured and sold like a slave. Even then, screaming at her and shaking the bars of the cage like an animal, you could feel that something had been bonded between you. Something changed—not just within you, but between the two of you. There was some kind of link connecting you.

She would open her mouth to say something, outreach her hand to comfort you, but you would not stop screaming. So she flicked her hand, and you shrunk down into your feline form again, your screams turning into wily meows and screeches. She would throw the blanket over the cage again and leave you there until you stopped making noises, until your throat burned and you tired yourself out.

Eventually, you calmed. The realization began to sink within you that you had been living around witches and fallen dumbly into their trap. Wanda called Agatha a few times, and through the walls of the house you heard her speaking. “Maybe we shouldn’t have done this… No, I am grateful, Agatha, I know it took a lot for you…I just feel like she’s not happy…I know that it takes time, but… Okay.”

Within a week, you stopped lunging at her from the cage, and though you had refused the food she offered you at first, whenever you were in feline form you could not resist the fish and milk she offered you in little bowls, lapping hungrily as if it was the last thing you would ever eat. Eventually, while she fed you, you felt her reach through the cage and comb her fingers through the fur between your ears. You froze for a moment, but you acquiesced, continuing to eat and let her pet your head. It was soothing, more soothing than you’d like to admit.

She let you out of the cage during the day and kept you in human form, giving you her clothes to wear around the house. There was one rule that was obvious—no running away. Of course, you tried, but the entire house was hexed so that no one could get out or get in except for Wanda. You started to wonder what her intentions were for keeping you here. From her phone calls with Agatha, it was apparent that you were meant to be some sort of companion to her. But she hardly spoke to you, even when she let you out of your cage and you sat on the couch watching TV together.

The bond started to grow stronger. You realized that you could hear her thoughts. When she dropped something on accident, you could hear her say Oh, shit even though the words never escaped her lips. When she prepared food for you, you could hear her thinking I hope she likes this. You had a feeling that she caught on and was now protecting her thoughts from you, because you could hear no further than mundane thoughts.

But she couldn’t protect her emotions from you. You started to realize, as you slept in the cage in the corner of her room at night, that something tragic and painful radiated from Wanda. It was grief, cold, and menacing. It gripped her helplessly. Although your life before being her familiar was fading away from your mind, you could remember that her house, which you could see across the street from yours, usually had two little boys and a man running in and out of it. Now it was totally empty besides her and yourself. Picture frames were turned on their faces, making it appear as if no one had ever lived there but her.

You learned that Wanda had only recently started to become a witch, though her powers already ten times that of Agatha’s. The Scarlet Witch, Agatha told her over the phone. The most powerful being in the universe, but she was baking you cookies and feeding you treats and putting a blanket over you at night and giving you all the space you needed and crying herself to sleep every night. For someone who could cause total destruction, all she seemed to you was soft and sad.

The urge to comfort her was strong. At night, she preferred to keep you in feline form in the cage so you wouldn’t be able to reach the latch and unlock it. Before you walked into the cage, you would butt your forehead against her ankle, twisting around her leg so that your tail curled around her knee. She was so moved by these little moments of affection, and it warmed you to bring them to her.

Wanda often studied from a big, old book during the day. She would sort of transform, her sweatpants and hoodie fading into a deep red suit fitted with a crown. She looked so majestic like that, hovering above the air, flipping through the pages of the book without even touching them, encompassed in her own red glow of magic. You would watch her curiously, between the glimpses of your attention grabbed by birds outside the window.

Wanda started to let you have more freedom. The cage is tucked inside the closet now, and the only time she turns you into feline form is when she takes you on walks outside, holding the red leash she had bought to connect to your red cat harness. It was a wonderful delight, experiencing the world that way, stimulated by every single movement and sound and smell. She had to keep you in that form on your walks because to everyone else in the town, you had simply disappeared.

Wanda gives you your own bedroom in the house, which you used for a couple nights, but you found yourself sneaking into her room and sleeping on the cot made up beside her bed on the floor, and one time you even woke up to find that you had crawled onto the bed and curled up on her feet in the night. It all happened so quickly and mindlessly, your love for her, your attraction to her, your loyalty to her. You weren’t just a familiar now, bound to her by magic, but you were her friend.

You started to fall in love with the way she smiled. You had a habit of knowing just how to make her laugh, and you basked in the glow of her giggles. She confessed to you that she had a crush on you ever since you moved into town, but she was too afraid to pursue it, even after Vision was gone. One intimate night by the fireplace in the living room, she said that she regretted telling Agatha about her crush on you, because it gave Agatha the idea to give you to Wanda as a familiar, as a gift. She said that she didn’t want you to be taken by force, that she wanted you to want to be with her. She even glanced to the unhexed door and told you, without thinking, You are free to leave. I will not hold you hostage.

It was then that you placed your hand on her thigh and tilted your head, looking at her wavy red hair and absorptive green eyes and trembling pink lips, and thought to her, Never would I want to leave you. It was then that you kissed for the first time, a slow and careful one. She was scared to kiss you too hard, to upset you, to make you want to run away since she had given you the option for freedom. Truth be told, you’d never felt freer in your life than when you were with Wanda.

She was happier after that. Your relationship, which had been rocky and reluctant at first, bloomed into something more than just a witch and her familiar. Your love grew like wildflowers in the pit of your bellies, deepening the spiritual bond that was already there between you. The relationship turned into something romantic, intimate, and special. It turned into desire that showed its head one night.

Although Wanda was happier now, she still had her moments when she missed her boys. You were sleeping beside her that night in her bed, arm cast over her, when you awoke not to a sound, but to a feeling. It stirred you awake forcefully, and the grief radiating from her stabbed you in the gut. You opened your eyes and gently turned her to face you—she was quietly crying.

“Wanda,” you whispered, gently holding her face and wiping her tears from her cheeks. “What is it, my love?”

“Detka,” she whispered, reaching up to stroke your cheek with her thumb. “Everyone has left me. My parents, my brother, Vision, my boys…” She stopped, a cry choking her throat. “I don’t know if I could take it if I ever lost you, too.”

Your heart broke at the sound of hers. You took her hand in yours. “That’s not going to happen.”

“I’m sorry that you ended up here,” she cried, sniffling and looking anywhere but you, too afraid to look at you and see hatred in your eyes. She had a habit of letting her mind get to her. “I’m afraid that you’re only with me because I forced you to be.”

Leaning closer to her, you looked deeply into her eyes, hoping that she heard how loud your love for her screamed from within you. “I want to be with you,” you told her firmly, and she listened, staring up at you with such vulnerability and conviction it made your eyes water. “I love you. Even if I hadn’t ended up here this way, we still would have been together. I love you in a million lifetimes and a million universes. I will never, ever, ever leave you.” You meant every word.

Wanda’s hand caressed your cheek and brought your face to hers, kissing you in the same soft, sweet kiss she always did. You always felt that twinge of desire within her, waiting for her to unleash it one day, desperate to seal your romance. But she was too scared to hurt you, too afraid of scaring you away.

Resting your body on top of hers in the quiet, dark bedroom, you kissed her deeply, running your tongue along her lower lip before slipping it inside her mouth, feeling her tongue slide against yours. Her body grew hot under you, her chest moving with the weight of her intensified breaths. She made a sort of strangled noise, her hand coming to your throat. You melted under the feeling of her fingertips dipping into your neck, but then she gently pushed you away.

Your mouth was wet with her kiss, and she was breathing hard, looking at you with both lust-filled and pain-filled eyes. It isn’t fair to you, she thought. She felt that the position of power was unbalanced, and she feared taking advantage of you even though she had thought about it so many times in her mind, had even blocked you from hearing her thoughts as she laid beside you at night and touched herself to the sight and smell of you beside her.

“It’s unfair for you to deprive me,” you whispered to her, pressing closer on her, feeling her hand tighten around your throat. “I need you. I want you.”

There was hesitance in her eyes as they scoured your face, looking and feeling for any sort of dishonesty. She wanted you to truly want her.

“Please,” you begged, trying to lean forward and kiss her again, but her hand on your throat held you away from her. You clawed at it, letting out a mewling sound that embarrassed you a little. Even in human form, you felt the urge to purr her for.

“Kitten,” she whispered, eyes falling to your lips and looking at them with desperation as her teeth bit into her own. “Are you sure?”

You nodded feverishly. “Yes, please. Yes.”

Finally, she gives in with a whimper, pulling you towards her to kiss you again. Her hands run over your waist, pressing you close to her as her tongue deeply explores your mouth. The blankets fall over your bodies as you move together, clothes coming off one by one until your skin is flushed together.

“Kitten,” Wanda moans when you move your lips to her neck, leaving butterfly kisses on her sensitive skin there. Her hands tangle in your hair as you move your mouth downwards, desperate to please her, desperate to love and cherish her body as much as you love and cherish her soul. Your mouth explores the expanse of her chest, the concaves of her clavicle, the rise and swell of her breasts which you grope and suck into your mouth, delighting in the noises she makes as your mouth lingers there. You go further down her body as if drinking down the winding expanse of a river, leaving trails of wet kisses down her stomach and hips until you’re stationed between her legs that open for you.

“Please,” she begs, urging her hips upwards as you bite and kiss at her thighs, inhaling the scent of her arousal that already sweetens the air. You don’t hesitate to give her what she wants, letting her hands in your hair guide your head to her slit. “Oh, fuck,” she breathes, her chest arching off the bed as you lap at her sensitive nub and suckle at it, feeling her juices cling to your chin.

Her breathing gets faster as her hips buck hard against your mouth, her fingers clutching your hair to push your head down harder. She seems to remember herself and loosen up, not wanting to hurt you, even in her pleasure. You moan at the taste of her, swallowing down every drop that collects on your tongue as you fervently pleasure her with your mouth.

“Kitten,” she cries, her voice rising in pitch as she grinds harder against your tongue, pulling your face impossibly closer to her. “Fuck, fuck,” she whispers in the most delightful string of curses you had ever heard as she comes to a climax, her thighs trembling around her face that is hot from the heat of her desire. You soothe her through her orgasm, lapping softer and sweeter, until finally she sighs and pulls you up.

You crawl up her body, shocked to see the flame of red in her cheeks, the tremble in her lower lip as she kisses you roughly. Whining, you wrap your arms around her shoulders as she sits up, her hands snaking down your waist and over your hips to grab the swells of your ass, squeezing you closer to her. She grunts into the kiss, breaking away to catch her breath.

“Did I please you?” you ask her breathlessly as she starts biting at your nipples, bringing a squeak from your throat. Your hands swim in her curls of hair as she groans a sound of confirmation, her tongue licking at your nipple before she bites it again, her hands on your ass tightening their grip.

Before you know it, she flips you around so that you’re on your back and she’s hovering over you, her mouth now biting at your shoulder and neck. “Can I touch you?” she asks, her fingertips quivering over the lower expanse of your tummy.

“Yes,” you whisper, feeling your face go hot as her hand dips down eagerly between your legs to cup you. You hum, feeling sparkles of pleasure fill you as her fingers rub at your clit perfectly, as if she somehow already knows exactly what pleases you. “Oh…” you moan, trying to pull her closer to you as her hands slip down over your folds, collecting your immense wetness that you hadn’t even realized was there until Wanda moaned at the feeling of it.

Looking down at the sight, Wanda slowly pushes two of her fingers inside you, listening to the way you gasp and moan as she slides them all the way in, spreading them out and moving them around to gauge your tightness—tight. Pumping them in and out, she feels for your sweet spot, finding that ridged spot tucked deep inside you and pressing at it.

Your hips jump suddenly from the feeling, back arching off the bed as she feels you from the inside. “Wanda,” you moan desperately as she thrusts her fingers slowly at first, until they pick up speed and her mouth is at your neck again, sucking dark spots into the fair skin there.

Something carnal unlocks inside Wanda at the way you moan her name, the way your hands are pulling her desperately closer, the way your walls clench and throb around her fingers. She lets out a whine and fucks her fingers harder into you, her own hips thrusting eagerly.

“That’s it, Kitten,” she whispers when she feels you tightening, your thighs trapping her hand between them. “Cum for me.”

A cry escapes your throat as hot, searing pleasure washes over you, Wanda’s fingers ushering your orgasm along within you. She shudders at the feeling of you cumming around her fingers, whining in desperation to be even deeper inside you, stretching you out even more, needing to be even closer to you.

You’re panting and still coming down when she pulls her fingers out of you, and glowing red magic flares from them, illuminating your bodies in momentary crimson light in the darkness. Suddenly, in a flash of red, there is a large dildo strapped to her hips, and she starts to lubricate it with your wetness on her fingers, stroking around the tip gently.

Anticipation fills you as she settles between your legs, pausing to look carefully at your face and stroke some of your hair away softly. “Are you okay? C-Can I?” She’s trembling with desperation.

“Yes,” you smile, gently running your hand up her arm. “I want it.”

Licking her lips, she smiles a little and leans down to kiss you gently, letting her body weight settle over you. She breaks the kiss to look down, her breath heavy, as she lines the tip of her strap to your wet entrance, slowly pushing herself into you. You take a deep breath as she slides deeper, your walls stretching around the widening girth. It becomes a little painful, and you let out a strangled whine.

Wanda stops suddenly, looking up at you with wide eyes. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” you whisper, placing your hands on her face. “Just go slow, please.”

She nods, pressing her lips to yours again as she pushes her cock even slower inside you, one arm wrapped around you and keeping you close to her. She keeps her mouth on yours as she fills you deeper and deeper, stretches you out even more and more until her cock is lodged fully inside you, resting so deep that you can feel her in your lower tummy.

Your breaths fall shakily against each other as she dares not to break the kiss, as if for every ounce of the pain she is kissing it better. She stays still for a moment to let you adjust before she starts to pull out, and the pain comes back again, but so does the immense pleasure. She does this for a minute, just barely pumping inside you, kissing you gently.

After a while, you can tell that she’s holding back. Her hand swipes over your lower tummy when she is at her deepest, feeling the bulge of her cock there, and she groans, breaking the kiss to bury her face in your neck. “Kitten…” she breathes, her body moving on top of yours as she retracts her hips and then buries deep inside you again.

Your hands run up her bare back to find that she is incredibly tensed, using every ounce of her strength to withhold from absolutely ravishing you. You goad her by hooking one leg up around her and bucking your hips. “Faster,” you whisper, feeling yourself throb with need. “Fuck me, Wanda.”

Wanda instantly obliges, her hand grabbing your thigh that is hooked around her as she pulls out and then snaps her hips harshly into you, bringing out a gasp from your lips. She growls and does this again, and again, and again, until she is pounding you into the mattress and squelches from your wetness fill the air.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, arching your chest against her as she drills into you, letting out her own symphony of noises. She is desperate and animalistic, driving herself into you with the force of something primal and carnal. You become a melted mess of nothing beneath her, barely able to keep up with her power and hunger as you scratch helplessly at her back, feeling cuts form there on her skin.

“Kitten, fuck,” she growls into your neck. Your bodies are pressed flat against one another, humid skin rubbing smoothly against each another as she forces herself into you fast and hard. She’s shaking again, grabbing your thigh so hard it bruises under her touch. Her teeth sink hard into your neck, but you don’t even feel it from the blinding force of pleasure coming over you. You’re both feeding off each other’s pleasure, soul and body and mind and heart connected, tangled so deeply with each other that you wouldn’t even know where your body starts and hers ends. You can tell she’s been waiting for this night, as much as she has held it from you. She is letting it all out now, her love and her pain and her desire and her grief. You’re the vessel for her soul, taking in every single thing and inch that she’s giving you.

You can feel pressure twisting within you, and your hips start to move and legs squirm against her, but with two hands bruising into your hips, she holds you still and pins your hips to the mattress. “St-still,” she says, leaning up to press sloppy kisses to your mouth. Her eyes are squeezed shut and her mouth is open, and it’s the most glorious sight you’ve ever seen.

“Fuck!” she groans, dropping her face back into your neck as her hips stutter, thrusting wildly and aimlessly into you.

“Wanda,” you whine as your climax crashes down on you, and with another string of curses and growls from the witch, hers does too. You’re blinded as she fucks into you as she cums, your nails scratching hard at her back.

It’s an orchestra of grabbing, thrusting, and moaning until you both slow down, and her weight rests fully on top of you, her body going limp as she breathes hard into your neck. Panting, you close your eyes and just feel her, her heart beating hard against your own, her body warm against yours, her cock still tucked deep inside you, a bundle of wetness between both of your legs, both still trembling.

Eventually, she moves up, looking down at you with a placated look in her eyes, as if she has been hungry for years and is finally fulfilled. “Are you okay?” she asks sweetly, as if she isn’t still ten inches deep in you.

You nod, reaching up to stroke her face. For the first time, you don’t feel grief radiating off her, nor do you hear painful thoughts of insecurity and trauma. She is just Wanda, your satisfied little witch, and you her loyal familiar, bound to each other in life and in death, in spirit and in flesh.

She smiles widely, those green moons filling with euphoria.

#arya recommends #hhhhhh #crying sobbing shaking throwing up

728 notes · View notes

wndanatz · 8 months

Text

rules ;

- this is an 18+ blog. minors, cishet men, terfs and empty blogs are not welcomed and you will be blocked immediately. i am not comfortable with you viewing and consuming my content.

- please have your ages in your bio so i don’t accidentally block you when i’m clearing my followers.

- this is a safe space for trans men, women, masc lesbians and sapphics that don’t use she/her pronouns. you are welcome and i’ll try my best to include you in the content i write. <3

- this is a nsfw writing blog for marvel women. but i will also write sfw content. i currently on write for wanda maximoff, natasha romanoff, carol danvers and agatha harkness

what i won’t write about ;

- scat, watersports (don’t know how), aged up characters (they need to be adults in canon), extremely hard kinks, etc.

#arya’s rules

1 note · View note

wndanatz · 8 months

Text

3K notes · View notes

wndanatz · 8 months

Text

SUGARMOMMY!WANDA || HEADCANONS

pairing: sugarmommy!wanda x sugarbaby!freader

summary: random head canons of reader being wanda’s spoiled sugarbaby.

warnings: wanda is a silverfox (yum), praise kink, mommy kink, softdom!wanda mostly, lap sitting, ass grabbing, mentions of slapping, light exhibition

a/n: these had been running in my head for too long and i’ve decided that i need her in a way that puts feminism behind 500 years.

you met her because you were waitressing in her favourite restaurant, with a degree in english literature you were bound to end up in a place like that.

she was incredibly kind from the start, greeting you with a big smile and a bigger tip.

divorced silverfox!!!! and always called you pet names when you came with her food!!!!!!!! and the “thank you, my darling” would leave you a blushing mess.

the situation started when she saw you getting fired in front of her because of a encounter between you and a costumer and when she saw the tears in your eyes she knew she had to do something.

you can’t say you weren’t surprised. but the offer was so tempting and she was looking so so fine in her tailored black suit and slacks. you blurted a yes immediately and embarrassed yourself. but she reassured you with a pet on your hair.

she’s beautiful. and she’s kind. and she takes such good care of you, it didn’t take long for you to start falling for her. and she lets you stay in her condo, making sure you’re treated like a princess.

a soft dom!!!!!!!! always calling you “princess”, “my love”, “darling” and “dear” only when she’s incredibly pissed at you misbehaving.

praise kink, always praising you for doing the littlest things. praising you when you’re eating her out so good or praising you for bringing her briefcase to her before she leaves for work.

everyone at work calls you “mrs. maximoff” but wanda never corrects them and you’re too shy to.

often you bring lunch to her office and she immediately leaves whatever she’s doing to have you settle in her lap. you two either eat together or she fucks you on top of her desk with the strap she keeps in her last drawer, whispering in your ear to keep quiet or else the ppl will hear you. and that makes you wetter around her strap.

the mommy kink goes crazy. you just have to pout and call her mommy and she’s ready to do anything for you, to the point you can physically see her lose control, her pupils dilating and her breathing heavy.

only when you misbehave severely, you can make her angry. she makes sure to immediately put you in your place tho, either by a slap to your face or by grabbing your ass so firmly she leaves a bruise.

#timezone reblog

2K notes · View notes

wndanatz · 8 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/wndanatz/726399978122215424/sugarmommywanda-headcanons-pairing

What would happen if she made us cry… :(

omg so the thing is. she’s far too in love with u to make u cry on purpose, she’s very sweet and wouldn’t ever put you through that because honestly that would make her feel horrible

but under circumstances she does accidentally make you cry, she would be devastated. would instantly pull back to give you space or if you want her to comfort you she would do that immediately, holding you close to her chest and petting your hair. she would apologise immediately, being mature enough to know when she’s at fault. she would go up and beyond, flowers, jewellery, gifts, clothes, just anything and everything you like to make you feel better

#arya responds

6 notes · View notes

wndanatz · 8 months

Note

i’m so normal about her. so so so so normal

Omg please write something about this

reader Is still very much a sub just extremely bratty. And the video doesn’t have to be vanilla at all it could be Wanda and her friends fucking reader, saying all kinds of nasty stuff to her.

TANTRUM. mdni, 18+.

pairings ; stepmom ! wanda maximoff + f ! reader

summary ; why won't wanda pay attention to you? does she want you to throw a tantrum?

warnings ; mommy kink, brat ! reader, dom ! wanda, sub ! reader, hair pulling, teeeeeny hint of manipulation, implied smut, blackmail

wc ; 801

a/n ; i hope this is what you were looking for !! i know it's a bit short, but i'm very open to writing more for this universe ! p.s. i didn't proofread

“Sweetheart, Mommy is very busy with work right now. Can you wait a few minutes?” Wanda says after she mutes her microphone, flashing a smile and holding up a finger to signal to her colleagues on the video conference that she’d been interrupted.

Their voices are muffled for you because you’re not really paying them any attention, only zeroing in on the fact that Wanda had told you to wait. Why would she ever make you wait? Weren’t you more important than her work?

“I don’t want to wait.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest and furrowing your eyebrows in annoyance. You were a little offended that she would choose some boring video conference over you, you were even wearing her favorite mini-skirt and top.

During the day on weekdays while your father was at work was the only time you two really had together, otherwise Wanda was stuck playing house with your stupid father, so her rejection only upsets you that much more.

Wanda sighs, she can see you getting worked up, you’re almost glaring at her for Christ’s sake. “I know you don’t, honey, but I’m working so you’re going to have to. Alright?” She knows she’s chosen the wrong approach when she sees your bottom lip start to wobble and that familiar fire in your eyes.

“But I. Don’t. Want. To!” You stomp your foot, raising your voice slightly. And if looks could kill, Wanda would be 6-feet under. “I want you to pay attention to me now! Do you not love me anymore? You said you loved me! If you loved me, you wouldn’t tell me to wait!”

Wanda was fine to let you throw your little tantrum, stomp your feet and whine at her, but she was not fine with letting you raise your voice at her. She was well aware of the video you held over her head, the one where she’s fucking into you from behind and talking about how good it feels to be in her stepdaughter’s cunt, but she will not tolerate this.

She gives you a tight lipped smile before turning back towards her computer and unmuting herself. She sighs, “I hate to cut this short, I know we’re coming up on an important deadline, but it seems there’s some kind of family emergency. Poor Y/N is so upset she can't even tell me what it is. Does rescheduling for Thursday afternoon sound good to everyone?”

She receives a few sympathetic smiles and responses to confirm that Thursday is good before she apologizes again and leaves the call. She stands from the chair at her desk and begins walking towards you, “Sweetheart, I don’t care how upset you are, you do not raise your voice at Mommy.”

You only roll your eyes in response, huffing and looking away from her, still upset that she was going to make you wait for anything even as simple as a smile from her.

“I don’t appreciate the implication that I don’t love you, either.” Wanda grips your chin and forces you to look at her, “What’s gotten into you today? I thought you were going to be a good girl.”

“I am being a good girl.” You grumble, trying not to let Wanda’s voice affect you, “You’re the one being a bitch. I thought today was our day.” You huff, trying to break free of Wanda’s grip on your chin.

There’s a pause, and you can’t figure out what’s going on in Wanda’s head as she stares blankly at you, until she smiles and moves her hand from your chin to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. At least, that’s what you thought she was doing.

She grabs your hair and pulls.

“Despite what you have come to think lately, you are not the one in charge here and you are not to speak to Mommy like that ever again.” She’s calm as she speaks, the only indication of her anger being the tight grip in your hair. She tugs a little harder and you whimper, tears stinging at your eyes. “Do you understand?”

“That hurts…” You whine, pouting up at her. You had gotten so used to being able to get away with anything since you took that video, you had forgotten just how rough Wanda could get. She mocks your pout, “Aw, it hurts, does it?” And you think she might loosen her grip just a little until her features betray her anger and she’s glaring down at you, “I asked you a question, sweetheart, and I expect an answer.”

“Mhm, I understand.”

“I think it’s about time you’re reminded of who’s in charge, huh? Mommy has been very understanding of your behavior lately and I think you have taken advantage of that a little too much.”

1K notes · View notes