les yeux sans visage

"oh bunny.. where are you? you know mommy doesn't like it when you run from her. come out now."

wanda hums, your breathing quickens as you continue running through the dark, dense woods. how did she already manage to catch up to you? you could've sworn she was fast asleep when you left the cabin.. whatever, that doesn't matter now. you continued making your way into the forest, and when you're sure wanda was far enough for you to catch your breath, you sigh and lean against a tree, panting heavily.

wanda was right though; the last few times you tried to run away, she caught you within an hour, spanking you harshly after dragging you back to the cabin to make sure you weren't hurt.

you can still clearly remember how it felt. the way the rings on her fingers added to the sting.. the way you got wetter—no. you shouldn't be thinking about that.. atleast not while you’re literally trying to escape her. you let out a deep breath, one you didn't even realise you were holding. you relaxed your muscles, your head falling back against the hard wood and your eyes flutter shut on their own accord. yeah, this was nice. maybe you should stay a minute to catch your breath.

you felt a sudden pressure on your throat and your eyes dart open. your breath hitches when you see wanda standing in front of you, a displeased expression on her face that sends a sudden shiver up your spine and a jolt to your core.

"caught you. dumb bunny, you thought you could run from mommy forever?” wanda tuts, before she continues “i'll always catch you in the end. just too stupid to think straight” she added a little more pressure onto your neck as she spoke. “now, its time to come home, yeah?" wanda cooed, her voice sickly sweet.

building up your courage, you managed to find your voice to shout.

"no! i'm not—don't call me that! i'm not going back to that..” you suddenly as you look around in fear, “..that god forsaken place again!”

a deafening silence filled the atmosphere, one where you silently begged for the ground to swallow you whole. wanda's expression hardens, and so does her grip on your throat. a strangled gasp left your lips as your hand comes up to wrap around wanda's wrist, looking up at her wide-eyed.

"you're exhausting my patience, bunny. if you're not going to cooperate, i'm gonna have to take things into my own hands.” she warned. “and trust me.. you wouldn’t like that; so im giving you a choice. either you come back with me,” she stops, “or i'm gonna have to make you," wanda growls, her sokovian accent bleeding into her words. fuck. she's definitely pissed.

you swallow thickly, before weakly responding with a quiet ‘f-follow you' that seemed to please wanda. she finally releases her grip on your throat, moving her hand to grab your wrist as you two make your way back to the cabin in awkward silence.

"t-twenty five, thank you mommy!" you cried out, your ass all red and bruised, a quiet clatter being heard as wanda placed the paddle down.

"good bunny.. now drink. you know why mommy does this, don't you? it's for your own good."

you part your lips obediently as wanda tips the shot glass into your mouth, the liquid burning down your already-raw throat, a sharp cough leaving your throat involuntarily.

a small sound escapes your lips when you feel her fingers trail down to your lace-covered pussy, where your arouse was dripping down your inner thighs, and onto wanda's lap.

"oh my, you got so worked up over a few spanks, bunny... let mommy take care of you, okay?" you nodded absentmindedly, muttering out something incoherent that sounded like a 'yes, mommy’

wanda loved how mushy your brain gets after every time she "punishes" you. i mean.. was this really a punishment? you did enjoy it, didn't you?

wanda gently lays you onto the bed, biting her bottom lip at the sight of your nipples, barely covered by the white lace of your bra and the damp spot on your matching panties. she pulls your underwear off as she pushed the cups of your bra up, admiring your semi-hard nipples. she takes one into her mouth and uses her free hand to pinch and twist at your other nipple while you whine.

wanda finally pushes your panties aside and parts your folds, watching as you clench around nothing, your hips jutting up when wanda suddenly spits on your pussy.

a loud moan sounds through the room when wanda suddenly pushes two fingers into your wet heat, the friction almost unexistent as they easily slide in. she curls her fingers just right until they reached that spongey spot in you that makes your back arch off the bed and lets you see stars.

at the same time, wanda kissed and bit at your neck, as you let out a breathily moan.

"mommy—mommy, im close!" you whine loudly. your sounds spur wanda on. she leans down and sucks your clit like a woman starved. her tongue flicking over your sensitive nub as she continues pounding your tight pussy with three fingers. it wasn’t long till your orgasm crashed over you, a string of curses bouncing off the walls as you gush around wanda's fingers, gasping out a 'too much’, trying to push her fingers out of you. wanda didn’t like that. her hand comes down to slap your used pussy, a stranged sound leaving your throat.

"no. mommy's not done yet. you'll take it though, won't you? mommy's just so worked up after your little performance." wanda says sharply, her voice a sickly sweet tone that makes your brain mushier. you whine when wanda walks out the room, but the second she walks back in wearing nothing but a harness with a 9-inch strap attached to it, your complaints die down, and your breath hitches. wanda crawls onto the bed above you, her hand slowly pumping the strap as she groans and mutters sokovian praises.

when wanda finally lines the strap up with your pussy, she immediately pushes it in, which makes you cry out loudly, your hands moving to claw at her back and tangle in her hair. she sets a rough and fast pace, her free hand grabbing both your hands down above your head, using her magic to restrain them together before she uses her other hand to grab at your breasts, groping them and pulling your nipples.

as you get closer to your second orgasm of the night, you pussy clenches around wanda's strap, making it harder to move in you, but wanda still manages to keep the rough pace, hitting the spongey spot in you that makes you see stars over and over again.

"yeah? you're close, bunny? you wanna cum all over mommy's cock? cum for me, bunny. now."

right as wanda says 'now', her thumb starts rubbing at your clit, the dual sensations tipping you over the edge again as you gush around her cock.

wanda finally pulls out and the sudden emptiness makes you whimper. she releases your hands before conjuring a damp towel and gently patting at your overstimulated pussy and your thighs.

"you were such a good girl for mommy, bunny. shh, it's okay, you can sleep. i got you, we'll wash up later."

i dont want minors viewing/interacting with my posts at all. im not into men so dont follow me or try to hit me up.

my okays in fics: little age play, deffo mommy kinm/daddy kink, straps, watersports, degradation, stepcest, fauxcest, praise, bdsm (whipping, slapping etc), bondage, gn!reader, female!reader, transmtf!reader, trans ftm!reader, bodily fluids (piss, spit, cum), food play, temperature play, breath play, permanent marking, darkfics, cnc, noncon, anal, tentacles and i think theres more but i forgot

my ehh’s in fics: “y/n x character” (i just prefer reading “reader x character” but i can read “y/n x character” if im desperate)

the decorated calendar on the kitchen wall felt like a countdown of things lost.

a week had passed since that night, two, three, then a month. you felt as if there were pieces of you being broken down, however memories didn’t waver.

every morning followed the same script. you wake up and feel that familiar, crushing weight on your chest. wanda was always peacefully asleep beside you, but it still felt like there was something missing.

you would then carefully adjust yourself, prepare a “distracted smile”—the kind that suggested you were thinking about work, maybe an item you forgot to add to the grocery list; rather than the memory of someone else’s hands you didn’t want, the voice you weren’t familiar with—it all just wouldn’t leave your head, like a song stuck in your mind but it’s a nightmare rather than a tune.

wanda, for her part, was being patient, she knew you were stressed—or so you’d state, so she took a step back for your own sake.

“you’re picking at your food again,” she remarked one night. she was leaning against the counter with a mug in her hand, her posture was elegant—you didn’t know if you admired or envied that in her. the soft glow of the under-cabinet lighting complimented the delicate waves of her auburn hair as her skin carried a hint of gold. to anyone else, she looked relaxed and neutral, but to you—she looked like a beautiful quant painting. wanda tilted her head, waiting for a reply.

“i’m just not hungry, wands”

you lied, pushing off a piece of pasta with the tip of your fork. the lie felt like a burning coal in your mouth, as if you’re so close to just spitting the truth along with a few words you know you’d regret sooner or later.

“i think im coming down with something, a lingering cold maybe,”

you said, following with a fake cough. wanda slightly rolled her eyes—she knew you were lying, she knew something was up, but it didn’t feel like her to push you to the brink of spilling out words. wanda moved towards you, her footsteps silent on the hardwood floor.

when she reached to touch your forehead, you didn’t pull away—it would be too obvious, but your entire body went rigid.

“a fever..?”

wanda muttered softly, “that’s odd.. your temperatures fine.” she stated, pulling her hand away.

“stress.. it’s stress, maybe,” you choked out, you felt her gaze on your back—heavy and searching, you knew she could feel the jagged edges of your emotions.

she was an empath—always have been. she didn’t need to read your mind to know the colors of your soul or the depth of your mind; but she did feel your presence—you, whom shifted from a warm, steady gold—to a fractured, cold grey.

she did respect your privacy, no matter how close and intertwined you both were, she knew how much you valued your personal space. she waited for you to come to her, however not realizing the weight you carried was too heavy to move.

that night, you layed in bed staring blankly at the ceiling, wanda was beside you, her breathing deep and rhythmic.

usually, the sound was an anchor. tonight, it was like a reminder of the intimacy you were now terrified of. you felt like an imposter in your own life. wearing a skin that isn’t yours, a body you didn’t own, and a soul you couldn’t fix alone.

you wanted to scream till your throat was raw, but every time you opened your mouth, the shame sewed it back shut.

you told yourself you were protecting her, you told yourself if you just didn’t say it out loud—it’d stop being true. a few moments had passed that felt like dreadful hours. you couldn’t sleep—even if you wanted to, you decided it was best to cool off in the balcony with a few cigarettes.

you turn your head to the bedside table and reach your hand out to the drawer where you hid your cigarettes from wanda. you promised you’d stop for her a few months back but it felt like they were calling out your name again.

the floors let out creaking sounds as you made your way to the balcony, your fingers gripped the cigarette box like your life depended on it; carefully, you open the glass door as not to wake wanda.

the warm breeze of the night felt like an immediate hug from mother nature, you fiddle with the lighter in your hand as if hesitating wether to do it or not.

you take a deep breath before lighting the cigarette between your fingers and take one, long puff.

it felt quite euphoric, like a feeling your body hates but craves every minute, you take another puff, and another, and another. it felt like a slow loosening, warmth spreading across your body, your thoughts finally slowed down and it’s like the world finally stopped for once, you felt relaxed, but the vibe suddenly shifted—like a cold energy trickled down your spine.

“i thought you promised you’d stop.”

you heard a voice from behind you, wanda. you immediately try hiding the box in your pocket and put out the cigarette at once, but wanda deliberately takes the box from your hand and places it on the table.

“you’re lying to me,” wanda hums as she leans on the balcony railing.

“i’m sorry—the cigarettes just—“

“i’m not talking about cigarettes, i’m talking about you, detka.”

you look up at wanda, but she was already looking at you first with that expression, the same one where you feel like you want to tell her everything but nothing for her own sake, to protect her.

“i’m not lying, wanda!” you snap at her suddenly, and as much as that stung her, her demeanor remained quiet and poised. “i understand you’re stressed, dove. but i don’t want you to carry whatever’s going on alone”

wanda mutters, she tries putting a strand of your hair behind your ear but you flinch at the sudden gesture. “nothings going on, i’m fine” you state, looking away from her. there was a few moments of silence, before wanda mutters; “i’d believe that if you weren’t so afraid of me.”

a sudden wave of coldness fills the atmosphere, and the tension was so thick even the sharpest knife couldn’t cut through.

“afraid of you?” you ask—however the question wasn’t exactly for wanda, but not for you either. “why would you even think that!?” you’re voice was clearer now.

wanda scoffs as if she can’t really tell if you’re being serious or not.

“you flinch every time i get a few inches close to you. god—you can’t even go to sleep before me, you think i haven’t noticed you pretending?” wanda sighs “you’re afraid of me. admit it. you know what i’m capable of and you fear that—“ “—I DONT!” you shout back

“i’m not afraid of you, wanda!” you manage to choke out, but wanda rolls her eyes “again with the lies, detka! you know i dislike dishonesty.”

“it’s not a lie, how many times do i need to repeat myself”

you huff, the euphoria from the cigarette completely wiped away, replaced by a spike of unwanted adrenaline coursing through your body.

“why can’t you let things go, wanda? do you seriously need to pick at everything until it bleeds?” wanda didn’t flinch at your words, instead, she took a step closer to you. the air began to taste like ozone, sharp and electric.

“because i’m afraid of living with a stranger! for a month, i’ve felt you vibrating with terror. every time i enter a room you immediately look for the exit and every time i touch you, you pull away as if it burns.”

you bite your bottom lip, as much as you’d hate to admit, you knew what she said was true; no matter how much you try to hide it.

your eyes felt glossy and starting to puff, you try blinking repeatedly but it was no use. “and the worst part of all is that trying to reach out to you feels hopeless. no matter how much i try holding on to you, you just keep slipping through my fingers..”

wanda says start quivering as she looks to the ground. “if it’s me you truly fear, whether it’s my presence or abilities.. know that i would never hurt you, my angel. you are far too delicate for me to even think of hurting. the thought itself kills me, detka,” she spoke, you could feel yourself shatter on the inside. like something finally broke, you didn’t want to keep things from her. wanda knew you inside-out.

“it’s not that, wanda..” you managed to choke out through tears, “speaking about this feels like coughing out blood, i’ve already lost something but i fear of losing something worse. i can’t bear for you to see the stains he left behind..”

the confession didn’t come out as a scream; it was quiet, gut wrenching.

you finally collapsed to the ground, your back sliding down the balcony railing until you were curled into a ball on the cold floor.

the cigarette lay forgotten, smothering against the wood.

wanda’s breath hitched, a sharp—jagged sound. the air didn’t just turn cold, it went dead. the sound of wind and crickets leaving with no trace left behind. she didn’t rush you.

she didn’t use her magic to force a connection, it was raw.

instead, she knelt in front of you, her knees hitting the hardwood with a thud.

“stains?” she whispered, the word felt like it was pulled through broken shards of glass. “my love.. you think you are dirty?”

you couldn’t look at her, instead, you muttered “i can still feel it. every time you touch me, i feel his hands instead of yours. i try to ignore it but it still feels like permanent marks scattered around my body. i feel trapped under him and i can’t—“ your voice breaks, “i can’t get out…”

a sob broke though your throat, it was violent. you expected her to pull you into a hug, but she stayed back.

her hands shook violently against her lap, as if both anger and regret consumed her on the inside.

she was weeping too—not the elegant tears you were used to seeing, it was silent, a shaking grief.

“oh, my dove..” she whispered, “a shadow could never change the way i see your light.” her voice was thick with her sokovian accent.

“i love you, detka. not the ‘perfect’ or ‘untouched’ version of you. i love you. with every fractured piece. allow me to take the weight of that memory.”