infamous-light

[infamous-light]

Fragments of Us Ch. 10 (End)

Siren! Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9

AO3: Fragments of Us

Summary: Siren Wanda lures you in.

Chapters can be read independently.

Word Count: 414

Warnings: Possessive behavior

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long amber streaks over the surface of the water.

Your small boat bobbed gently along the ripples, the wood creaking softly as you leaned over the side, net in hand, trying to catch something for dinner. A flicker of silver darted beneath the surface – a fish, maybe two. You dipped the net in slowly, careful not to startle them.

That’s when you heard it.

A voice – soft, melodic, wrapping around your senses like a warm embrace. You froze; the fish forgotten as the net slipped from your fingers into the murky depths below. Slowly, almost against your will, you turned your head toward the sound. It wasn’t just beautiful. It called to something inside of you.

Beneath the water, something stirred – a flash of red hair, the glimmer of pale skin. Then, a woman’s face appeared just below the surface. She rose slowly, her wet hair clinging to her bare shoulders. Her lips curled into a slow, tantalizing smile – one that didn’t just charm, but ensnared. Her eyes, a deep, almost unnatural green, locked onto yours with an unnerving focus. They shimmered with an unsettling intensity, as if they saw straight through you.

You couldn’t look away, even if you tried.

“Come closer.” She purred, her voice tugging at your very soul. She raised one hand, beckoning you with her index finger.

Your hands trembled as you leaned further over the edge of the boat, your mind hazy, thoughts slipping away. The moment her hand touched yours, you gasped, the chill of her skin like ice. Then, with a sudden, inhuman strength, she pulled you under.

The water closed over you, cold and suffocating, and panic surged. You thrashed, bubbles escaping your lips as you fought for air, but she was there, holding you, her eyes glowing with something primal and possessive. Your lungs burned and the darkness began to creep in around the edges of your vision.

You thought this was the end.

But then her lips pressed against yours. It wasn’t gentle; it was commanding, her breath filling your lungs in a way that didn’t seem possible. The panic ebbed, replaced with a strange, intoxicating warmth.

When she finally pulled back, a cruel smirk replaced her earlier smile. You could vaguely see her mouth moving, her lips forming words you couldn’t hear through the muffled rush of water surrounding you. But you didn’t need to hear. You knew what she said.

“You’re mine now.”

[infamous-light]

The Way You Make Me Feel

Illyana Rasputin x Luna Snow

AO3: The Way You Make Me Feel

Summary: Magik couldn't ignore the insatiable need to claim Luna before the battle.

Word Count: 865

Warnings: Possessive behavior, biting/marking, dom/sub, suggestive themes, top! Magik, bottom! Luna

The room was thick with tension, the kind that clung to the air before a battle. Everyone was preparing – checking weapons, discussing strategy about the convoy – but Luna could barely focus. Her mind kept drifting to Magik.

She could feel her. Even without looking, Luna knew Magik was watching her. The weight of her gaze burned along Luna’s skin, leaving her on edge. She wanted to give in, to turn and face her lover, but now wasn’t the time. The battle was about to start soon. Luna swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, but then a hand closed around her bicep from behind. Magik’s strong, calloused fingers dug into her skin, pulling her back slightly.

“Come with me.” Magik said, her voice low and rough, the faint Russian accent curling around the words like smoke.

Luna shivered. “What –”

“Now.” Magik ordered, already dragging Luna away from the others without saying another word.

Luna’s heart raced in her chest, but she didn’t resist as Magik led her toward a darker corner of the room, away from prying eyes. Just as Luna opened her mouth to ask again what was happening, Magik turned on her heel sharply, her hands gripping Luna’s waist as she shoved her down onto the worn-out couch.

Luna gasped, her back hitting the cushions as Magik immediately straddled her. Her thighs – sleek and toned – settled around Luna’s hips, and for a split second, all Luna could do was stare.

Magik’s legs were clad in ripped black stockings, the fabric torn in several places, whether from battle or sheer carelessness. The glimpses of pale, smooth skin beneath the tears made Luna’s mouth go dry. She couldn’t stop her eyes from trailing along the powerful shape of Magik’s legs – from the curve of her thighs to the sculpted muscle in her calves. Luna knew she would never get used to the sight of those thighs, no matter how often she saw them.

God, she’s gorgeous.

“You keep looking at my legs like that, kotyonok,” Magik purred, leaning down until her mouth was a hair’s breadth away from Luna’s. “And I might think you’re distracted.”

The corner of Luna’s lips quirked upward. “Maybe I am.”

Magik smirked, her blue eyes glinting with amusement. “Good.”

And then, she kissed Luna – hard. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was pure, burning want, and Luna melted into it instantly, her hands gripping Magik’s waist. The kiss turned messy, teeth and tongue and desperate need, until Magik’s hand slid up Luna’s side and found her throat. She didn’t squeeze, only rested her fingers there, firm and possessive. Luna’s pulse fluttered wildly beneath Magik’s palm, and the feeling made Magik’s blood run hot.

Luna pulled back from the kiss a moment later, gasping for air, her lips swollen and glistening.

“Please, Illyana,” she whispered, her voice cracking, raw with need. “I need more.”

The sound of Luna’s broken plea sent a fresh wave of desire crashing over Magik, heat pooling low in her abdomen and leaving her achingly wet.

Magik's lips curled into a low growl as she rolled her hips, the sudden pressure pulling a strangled moan from Luna's throat. She dragged her hips slowly, purposefully, grinding against Luna again and again until she could feel the heat pooling between them.

“Oh my god!” Luna gasped, her body arching into Magik’s touch.

“You like that?” Magik rasped, her breath hot against Luna’s mouth.

Her hand remained lightly clasped around Luna's throat, and she pressed down once more, this time with more force. Luna moaned as her fingers dug into Magik’s thighs, her nails catching on the ripped stockings, tearing them further.

At that moment, Luna barely caught the sound of Galacta’s voice cutting through the haze of her arousal.

“Thirty seconds before you attack. Get ready!”

The words sent a jolt of panic through Luna and her grip on Magik tightened involuntarily.

“Illyana –” Luna breathed, her voice faltering as she tried to get the Russian woman’s attention.

“Shh,” Magik’s mouth descended to Luna’s throat, kissing, nipping, and biting along the sensitive skin. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Luna groaned as Magik began to grope her breasts, and when she rolled her hips again – slow and teasing – Luna felt like she might completely fall apart.

“After the battle,” Magik husked, nipping sharply at Luna’s pulse point before soothing the mark with her tongue. “I’m taking you somewhere private. And I’m not letting you leave my bed for hours.” Another deep, slow grind of her hips. “Understood?”

Luna whimpered, her hands clutching desperately at Magik’s thighs. “Yes. God, yes.”

“Good girl,” Magik purred. She sank her teeth in one final time, her bite harder than before. She was determined to leave a mark – one that would say mine. Once she was satisfied with the bruising imprint, Magik pulled back just enough to let her lips graze over Luna’s ear. “I can’t wait to ruin you properly.”

And with that, Magik slid off Luna, leaving her breathless, wrecked, and painfully aching for more. As Magik turned and walked away, Luna’s eyes helplessly fell to the sight of those ripped stockings again.

Oh god, I’m not going to survive this.

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 13

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8 Ch.9 Ch.10 Ch.11 Ch.12

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior

The world around you was a blur, caught somewhere between a dream and wakefulness. Everything felt heavy, like you were sinking into something soft yet solid beneath you. Warmth surrounded you, pressing against your back, steady and unmoving.

Something large and broad glided through your hair in slow, rhythmic strokes. The sensation was soothing, pulling you deeper into the haze. A soft hum drifted through the air, low and melodic, wrapping around you like a lullaby.

You tried to move, to blink yourself awake, but your limbs refused to listen, weighed down by drowsiness. Instead, you surrendered to the touch, the sound, the presence that cradled you here – keeping you safe in this in-between place.

And with that, you allowed yourself to float away.

***

A dull, throbbing ache pulsed in your wrist. It was the first thing you noticed as it dragged you from the murky depths of unconsciousness. The space around you was slow to come back – there was the scent of wine and old wood, the distant crackling of a fireplace.

Then – footsteps. Loud, purposeful, closing in fast.

The bed dipped beside you, and a shadow loomed, blocking out the dim candlelight. You forced your heavy eyelids open, your vision swimming before settling on the towering figure.

Lady Dimitrescu.

She was impossibly close, hovering over you. Her golden eyes, usually so unreadable, now brimmed with something unnerving – concern, relief… desperation.

“My sweet girl,” she murmured, her voice softer than you'd ever heard it. “I thought I had lost you.”

Her gloved hand cupped your left cheek, thumb brushing lightly over your skin. You tried to move but the sharp bite of pain in your wrist stopped you. A low whimper slipped past your lips before you could silence it. Lady Dimitrescu reacted instantly. Her fingers closed around your hand – too gentle, too careful, as if you were something fragile, something breakable.

Your stomach twisted with disgust and frustration. You were supposed to be gone. You were supposed to escape this. Escape her.

But she wouldn’t let you.

Of course, she wouldn’t let you.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry and raw. The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth. “Why am I still here?”

Something flashed in Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes – pain, disbelief, perhaps even anger – but it was gone just as quickly. She exhaled softly, her other hand carefully encircling your injured wrist and you flinched at the touch. For a long moment, she simply looked at you.

“I can’t lose you,” Lady Dimitrescu said, and for the first time, her voice lacked its usual arrogance. There was no command, no snide remark – only quiet desperation. “Not to anyone. Not even to yourself.”

A tense silence stretched between you, broken only by the slow, uneven rhythm of your breath.

You turned your head away, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “You should’ve let me die.”

Lady Dimitrescu exhaled sharply through her nose, and for a split second, you actually expected her anger this time. Perhaps another possessive claim, another cruel insistence that you belonged to her. But it never came. Instead, the bed creaked as she moved closer, her warmth pressing into your side.

“I would never do such a thing.” She stated plainly, as if the very idea was absurd.

Your throat constricted as tears began to gather in your eyes. “You only saved me because you don’t want to lose your plaything.”

Her fingers grazed against your cheek once more, light and hesitant. “No.”

You met her gaze, and you saw something there that made every muscle in your body freeze.

“I saved you because I…” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice faltered, her lips parting ever so slightly, yet the sentence remained unfinished.

You watched her, waiting with bated breath. You could feel the weight of the words she wanted to say but she hesitated. Your heart clenched, though you couldn't tell whether it was from fear, anger, or something else entirely.

Lady Dimitrescu sighed, composing herself, though her golden eyes remained fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. Without a word, she lifted your injured wrist carefully. Her fingers ghosted over the bandages, the tenderness in her touch almost reverent.

“You’re in pain.” She said, as if just realizing it.

It was an obvious attempt to shift the focus away from her earlier words. And you were fine with that.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, turning your head away once more. “What does it matter?”

Lady Dimitrescu's jaw clenched, her voice low and firm. “It matters to me.”

A hollow laugh escaped your lips. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Her expression wavered, frustration flickering in her eyes before regret softened the tension in her brow.

“I won’t pretend I’ve been kind,” Lady Dimitrescu finally said, her voice quieter now. “I’ve been… harsh. Cruel, even. But I never wanted this.”

You scoffed. “You never wanted me to die? Congratulations. That doesn’t make you a saint.”

Her gaze hardened briefly, but the intensity faded as quickly as it had come. When she spoke again, she sounded… tired.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, a bitter knot twisting in your stomach. You hated her. You hated that you had failed.

“I won’t allow you to do this again,” Lady Dimitrescu's voice took on an icy edge now, the concern in her tone slipping away, replaced by something more dangerous. “I will keep you safe.”

Safe. The word made you want to scream. Of course, the Lady would see her own actions as protection in her twisted mind, but to you, they were anything but. The memory of being drugged, having your free will stripped away, that was something you would never forget. Safe? What a joke.

Her thumb traced slow, deliberate circles over your bandaged wrist. The touch was possessive, claiming in nature. You wanted to recoil, to rip yourself away from her grasp, but your body was still too weak to resist.

“I’ll do it again,” you rasped, your voice hardening despite its hoarse edge. “You can’t stop me forever. I’ll find a way.”

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. Lady Dimitrescu's thumb, which had been idly circling your wrist, stilled. She simply studied you, her gaze intent, unreadable.

“Do you think I don’t see through you?” Lady Dimitrescu's eyes narrowed, sharp and assessing. “That I don’t know exactly what you're trying to do?”

Your pulse quickened, but you didn’t dare speak.

“I know you long to be with your family again,” her gaze lingered on you, as if cataloging every flicker of emotion on your face into her memory. “I cannot grant you everything you desire but I am willing to offer a compromise.”

Your body stiffened, wariness building in your chest.

“What do you mean?” You asked, suspicion lacing your tone.

“I will allow you to see your parents.” Lady Dimitrescu said at last.

Your breath hitched and your eyes widened in surprise at her words.

“There will be conditions, of course,” she continued smoothly, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You may see them, but only within my castle and under my supervision. That is, if you prove yourself… well-behaved.”

A stunned silence settled between you two.

You… you weren’t expecting that. She was offering this – relinquishing control, even if just a fraction of it. You felt lightheaded and overwhelmed. You should be angry that she was still imposing conditions, but all you could think about was the fact that you may be able to see your mother and father again.

“You mean it?” You breathed out.

“I do,” Lady Dimitrescu murmured, her thumb returning to trace slow, light circles on your wrist. “If it keeps you from doing something reckless again, then yes. I mean it.”

For the first time in a long while, a sense of hope flickered in your chest. It was small and fragile, but it was there.

Then you swallowed and carefully added, “And Catalina?”

Lady Dimitrescu’s expression darkened slightly.

“I won’t make any promises,” she admitted, her voice cool and measured. “As long as she doesn’t step out of line, no unnecessary harm will come to her.”

It wasn’t the assurance you had hoped for, but it was more than you had dared to expect.

You stared at the Lady, searching for any hint of deception, for some cruel trick hiding beneath her words. But for once, she didn’t seem to be toying with you. This was her compromise. Your heart hammered in your chest. This wasn’t freedom. Not truly. But it was a crack in the walls that had once seemed impenetrable.

And for now, that was enough.

[infamous-light]

Fragments of Us Ch. 9

Hunter! Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

AO3: Fragments of Us

Summary: Wanda hunts you down.

Chapters can be read independently. Requests for snippets about Wanda are welcome!

Word Count: 408

Warnings: Predator/prey, biting, marking

The sound of footsteps echoed through the silent neighborhood – but they weren’t yours. They were hers. Steady, even, never rushed. She didn’t need to run. Wanda was hunting you, and she already knew how this would end.

You ducked into a side alley, pressing yourself against the cold brick wall, trying to steady your ragged breathing. Your pulse hammered in your throat, every instinct screaming at you to flee, but you knew any sudden noise would only draw Wanda’s attention faster. Overhead, a streetlamp flickered, casting jagged shadows across the sidewalk.

Then, a slither of red mist trailed along the ground.

You jerked away just as the magic curled toward your ankle. Adrenaline surged through you as you bolted down the alleyway, feet pounding against the concrete, pushing your body to its limit. Behind you, Wanda’s footsteps remained unhurried, her voice laced with amusement as it drifted through the night.

“Running won’t save you,” she cooed. “You should know that by now.”

A shiver ran down your spine. Before you could even turn the corner, an unseen force yanked you backward, slamming you hard against a nearby wall. Your wrists were wrenched above your head, the pressure pinning you in place. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as Wanda stepped into view, her gaze locked onto yours. Her smirk spread slowly, wickedly, as if savoring the moment.

“You never stood a chance,” she purred, her voice dripping with mockery as she tilted her head. “But I do love it when you try.”

You struggled, but her magic held firm. Wanda leaned in, dragging her fingers down your throat, feeling the frantic pulse beneath.

“You should know better than to run from me,” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin as she angled her face toward your neck. “Because I always catch what’s mine.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could get a word out, Wanda sank her teeth into your neck. A choked cry tore from your throat but she didn’t stop there. With each pull, she dragged her teeth lower, marking you with a painful, burning intensity that made your breath catch in your chest. Her mouth moved along your skin, leaving a trail of fiery bite marks as though she were carving her claim into your very flesh.

By the time Wanda finally pulled away, your neck was adorned with her handiwork – red, raw, and bruised.

“Mine.” Wanda whispered against your lips.

[infamous-light]

what was the other idea?

Well, it would be a spoiler if I told you unfortunately lol I most likely won't write an alternate scene for that. Let's just say that the reader would be very upset and freaked out once R regained consciousness.

[infamous-light]

hello! i was that anon who gave the idea (sort of?) of reader attempting su*cide and to say i was shocked that you made a chapter out of it is an understatement.

okay so hear me out again, alcina made it in time in rescuing reader, right? what if like after seeing reader doing that, she changes herself? like treating reader not as a possession but rather someone she really truly cares about and go about the proper way of wooing reader and reader finally seeing alcina in a different light? like after truly showing that she cares, reader gives alcina a chance idk just some thoughts again 🫣

Yes! I do remember that suggestion. It worked out in a way since I believed that's where the reader's mental health was heading anyway. Thanks for that!

Honestly, that's how it's more than likely going to go. I had another idea of what was going to happen after reader's attempt but I decided not to go that route since it would make Alcina worse in reader's eyes. So, yeah, Alcina will slowly change her ways but still be stern. She'll essentially be a helicopter parent for a while.

[infamous-light]

I love your series smmsmsms!!! is there any chance i could be on your taglist for the you belong to me fic?^^

Thank you so much! About the tagging, I'm pretty bad about that haha If you have an ao3 account, you can subscribe to a specific story on there. I always update on ao3 first!

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 12

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch.10 Ch.11

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, suicidal thoughts/attempt

The weight of everything pressed down on you like a suffocating shroud, each breath shallow, as if the very air had turned against you.

It had been your last shred of solace, the belief that your family was safe. But now, even that had been taken from you. Worse still, Lady Dimitrescu made it clear – she wouldn’t hesitate to use them against you if you dared to disobey her again. Your hands trembled as they clutched the blanket, knuckles turning white.

Catalina.

She wasn’t safe either. She had risked everything to help you escape. She didn’t have to – but she had. And now, her life rested in your hands as well, because you knew exactly what Lady Dimitrescu did to those who crossed her.

Petra’s face flickered in your mind and your stomach churned. You could still see it – the way Lady Dimitrescu had towered over her, her claws slicing through the air. Petra hadn’t even had time to scream. The sickening crunch of bone. The spatter of blood… You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to block it out. But it was useless. The memory was seared into your mind, a grotesque painting you’ll never be able to unsee.

Dark thoughts crept in – unbidden, yet relentless. What’s the point of fighting? What’s the point of trying to escape, of clinging to hope, when it only leads to more pain? You had already lost so much. Your freedom, your dignity, your peace of mind. And now, the lives of those you cared about hung by a single thread – one held firmly in Lady Dimitrescu’s cruel grasp.

Wouldn’t it be easier to just… end it? To take control of the one thing she couldn’t? The thought terrified you and yet it offered a twisted kind of relief. You wouldn’t have to live with the fear, the guilt, the constant knot in your stomach. You wouldn’t have to face the inevitability of more bloodshed, more loss. You wouldn’t have to endure her.

The bathroom door creaked open a moment later, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts, though you barely registered it. The faint scent of vanilla and rosewater drifted into the room, a lingering trace of her having freshened up. Then came the all-too-familiar click of her heels on the hardwood floor, each step sending a shiver down your spine. You didn’t look up. You couldn’t. Your body felt too heavy, your mind too numb.

“You’ve been awfully quiet this morning.” Lady Dimitrescu said, her smooth voice laced with something you couldn't quite place – concern? Annoyance? You couldn’t tell.

You said nothing. What could you possibly say? That you felt like a hollow shell of a person? That every waking moment was a struggle to keep yourself from falling apart? That you were drowning in guilt, fear, and hopelessness? Even if you wanted to speak, the words wouldn't come.

Lady Dimitrescu stepped closer to where you sat on the edge of the bed, her presence making the air grow colder, heavier.

“Look at me.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for defiance.

You hesitated, your body taut with tension. When you finally mustered the strength to lift your gaze, her piercing golden eyes met yours. They were as beautiful as they were terrifying. They seemed to see right through you, peeling back every layer until there was nothing left but raw vulnerability.

Her brow furrowed, a flicker of frustration passing over her features. “You’re distant. I don’t like it when you’re distant.”

The absurdity of her words almost made you laugh. Of course, she doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like anything that’s beyond her control, and you – your thoughts, your feelings, your very existence – are no exception. But you didn't laugh. You didn’t react at all. You just sat there, staring at her, feeling like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Lady Dimitrescu's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a fleeting moment, she looked… troubled. Her eyes, however, never left yours, still searching, as if trying to decipher the storm raging inside of you. She reached out, her fingers grazing your cheek, and you flinched at the contact, a reflex you couldn’t suppress.

“I understand that these past few days have been difficult for you,” Lady Dimitrescu murmured, almost thoughtfully. “But I know you're more than capable of enduring this. I wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise.”

Her words stung more than they soothed. Chosen.

You were little more than a possession to her – something to claim, something to own. The realization never grew any easier. Slowly, you lowered your gaze, unable to meet her eyes any longer.

“Don’t,” Lady Dimitrescu said sharply. Her fingers seized your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze. “Don’t retreat into that little corner of your mind. You’re mine. Body, mind, and soul. I won’t allow you to shut me out.”

A flicker of defiance stirred within you, but it was quickly snuffed out by the overwhelming tide of hopelessness. You nodded again, loathing yourself for surrendering so quickly, but what choice did you have? Resistance only brought pain, and you had endured enough to last a lifetime.

Her grip loosened, and she released you, her expression unreadable. “Good. Now, come along, pet.”

Without waiting for your reply, Lady Dimitrescu took your hand in hers, her long fingers curling possessively around your wrist.

***

Lady Dimitrescu led you through the shadowed halls of her castle, her imposing frame making the vast space feel smaller, suffocating.

She cast a fleeting glance down at you, her eyes sharp yet oddly playful.

“I thought a change of scenery might be in order,” Lady Dimitrescu mused, her voice light and airy. “Perhaps some time in the library would do us both some good. Get you out of my bedchambers for once.” A smirk tugged at the corners of her painted lips, the barest hint of amusement dancing in her gaze at the last few words.

You didn’t respond, but she didn’t seem to expect one.

As she pushed the library doors open, the scent of aged paper and polished wood enveloped you, welcoming you into the room. It was a grand space, the towering bookshelves stretching up toward the vaulted ceiling as if trying to touch the heavens. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting a warm golden glow that filled the room. Seated in one of the velvet armchairs was Daniela, her face lighting up the moment she saw you and her mother enter.

“Mother!” Daniela practically leaped to her feet, her golden eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’re here!” Without a second thought, she threw her arms around her mother's waist, pulling her into a tight embrace. “We can all read together! Oh, we’ve got so many new books!”

Lady Dimitrescu’s smile broadened, her gaze softening with a rare, genuine warmth. She placed a delicate hand on top of Daniela's head as the girl leaned in to hug her. “That does sound lovely, darling.”

In an instant, Daniela was in your space, darting toward you with an enthusiasm that was both unsettling and strangely contagious. She grabbed your free hand, squeezing it tightly.

“I’ve been so bored! Come sit with me. Let’s pick out something fun to read!”

Lady Dimitrescu let out a soft chuckle, releasing your wrist as Daniela eagerly tugged you toward the seating area.

You sank into a plush armchair, your muscles stiff as Daniela flitted around, pulling books from the nearby shelves and chattering animatedly about her favorites. Lady Dimitrescu settled into a seat across from you, watching with a satisfied air, her eyes lingering on you longer than you liked.

Time passed in a blur, the weight on your chest easing – just slightly – amid the comfortable hum of the library. Together, you all sat around, listening to Daniela talk about the plot of the story. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt… normal. Almost. But then your eyes caught something glinting in the morning light – a vintage letter opener resting on the corner of a nearby stand. Its handle was ornately carved, the blade sharp enough to be more than decorative.

For a split second, a dark thought occurred. You wondered how easily it could slip through your skin.

Just maybe...

Your pulse quickened, but you forced it down, steadying yourself. You stole a glance at Lady Dimitrescu and Daniela, their attention elsewhere as they discussed the next book to read. Slowly, carefully, you reached for the letter opener, your fingers closing around its cool handle. In one swift motion, you slipped it into your pocket.

“Darling,” Lady Dimitrescu's voice cut through the static in your mind. You froze, her gaze locking onto yours once more, her smile as smooth as silk. “Why don’t you choose the next book for us to read together?”

You swallowed hard, the cool edge of the letter opener digging into your thigh. “Sure.”

Rising to your feet, you moved to the shelves, scanning the rows of books that seemed to stretch on forever. You hesitated, fingers brushing over the spines, until one finally caught your attention – a weathered classic. Pulling it down, you returned to her side, offering it with a tentative smile. Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes sparkled as she accepted it, her fingers brushing against yours in a gesture both casual and intimate.

You settled back into the armchair as she began to read aloud to you and Daniela.

After some time, Lady Dimitrescu closed the book with a soft thud, her gaze shifting from the pages to you.

“Well,” she mused, a slight tilt to her head. “I think a break is in order. Lunch, perhaps?”

You blinked, the world slowly coming back into focus as a numbing heaviness settled over you, creeping through your limbs like a cold fog. It spread relentlessly, claiming every inch of your body until it finally reached the hollow space in your chest. And with it, the dark whispers of your mind returned, drowning you in their weight. You didn’t want to feel this way, but there was no escaping the turmoil within yourself. It gnawed at you, leaving you with no other choice if you ever hoped to be free again.

You knew what you had to do.

“Lunch sounds good.” You managed, offering a small, strained smile.

“I am getting hungry.” Daniela giggled, her voice light and playful.

“Excellent. Shall we?” Lady Dimitrescu replied, rising from the armchair with an almost effortless grace.

Before she could turn to lead the way, you hesitated. “Uh – my Lady. I need to use the bathroom first.” You murmured.

Lady Dimitrescu paused, her gaze settling on you as she granted you permission with a swift, dismissive wave of her hand. “Go ahead but be quick.”

She obviously didn’t suspect anything. Neither did Daniela.

You walked slowly toward the bathroom door, the weight of your decision growing heavier with each step.

Inside, you stood before the mirror, your reflection staring back at you with a mixture of dread and determination. A wave of nausea tightened your chest as the reality of what you were about to do sank in. But what other choice did you have? You couldn’t keep living like this – not as her pet, a plaything she dressed up and paraded around as if your will didn’t matter. Every choice had been stripped from you, your autonomy reduced to whatever pleased her. And as long as you remained in her grasp, she would never let your family or Catalina be safe again.

With trembling fingers, you reached into your pocket and pulled out the letter opener.

Your hands shook so violently that you could barely hold it steady. The small blade felt heavier than it should – cold and unyielding in your palm. Pressing your back against the wall, you slid down until you were seated on the floor, knees drawn to your chest. The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in, and the air was thick and stifling, refusing to fill your lungs.

You stared at the blade. Sharp. Simple. It didn’t look like much, but it was enough. It had to be.

Your heart was racing, a frantic drum in your chest, like it knew what you were about to do and was desperately trying to stop you. You shook your head, swallowing the lump rising in your throat, but it didn’t help. Tears welled up, blurring your vision. You wiped them away with the back of your hand, but they kept coming, relentless and uninvited.

“It’ll be over soon.” You whispered, barely believing your own words.

The blade hovered above your wrist, its tip barely grazing your skin. You’ve read about how to do it – the right way, the way that works. Not across. But down the vein. Deep enough to matter. Your other hand gripped your forearm, anchoring it in place as your heart clenched with panic.

You almost couldn’t do it.

But the weight inside of you was too much, too heavy to bear for another day. Your thoughts spiraled in relentless loops. Your family. Catalina. Petra. Ingrid. Yourself. The darkness within you festered, stretching like a creeping shadow that threatened to consume you whole.

With a sharp inhale, you pressed down and dragged the blade, slow and deliberate. The sting came instantly, burning hot, and for a second, you feared you hadn't cut deep enough. Then the blood welled up, dark and thick, spreading in a thin line before it dripped onto the floor.

You were crying harder now, sobs breaking free as your body shuddered. It was so painful. The cut was ragged and uneven, but it was working. Blood trickled faster, warming your skin, and staining everything in its path.

The edges of the bathroom blurred, dissolving into a hazy softness. Your heartbeat, once frantic, slowed, the panic ebbing into something quieter, almost lulling. With a heavy exhale, you closed your eyes and leaned back against the wall. A strange peace settled over you, the crushing weight beginning to lift as the world dimmed around you.

Finally, everything was fading.

You barely had time to register the door slamming open before Lady Dimitrescu stood before you, her eyes wide with alarm, her breath sharp with urgency.

“No!” Lady Dimitrescu yelled. Her voice was raw, shocked in a way you had never heard before. In an instant, she was on you, her hands wrapping around the wound with a force that made you gasp. Her fingers trembled as they pressed desperately, as if trying to hold you together. “What have you done!?”

Her anger was palpable, nearly suffocating, but beneath it, there was something else – fear. Lady Dimitrescu gathered you into her arms, her voice dropping to a low, urgent whisper, almost desperate. “Stay with me. Don’t you dare leave me.”

Her eyes darted around wildly, her chest heaving with each sharp breath, her composure cracking at the edges.

“Daniela!” She bellowed, her voice cracking under the weight of her mounting panic. Daniela appeared in the doorway, eyes wide with confusion as she took in the frantic scene before her. “Get your sisters and bring the medical supplies to my bedchambers – now!” The command was sharp, but there was a tremor in her tone that betrayed just how much she was losing control.

“Y-Yes, mother!” Daniela stuttered, momentarily faltering before she dissolved into her fly form.

The world swayed around you as Lady Dimitrescu carried you through the castle halls, her steps quick and purposeful. You could hear her muttering softly to herself, her voice a low rasp, “Hold on... stay with me.” As if reassuring herself as much as you.

Moments later, she gently lowered you onto the bed, its rich velvet sheets cool against your skin. As your back sank into the soft surface, your vision began to darken again, drawing you into a quiet oblivion.

[infamous-light]

Fragments of Us Ch. 8

Sugar Mommy! Wanda Maximoff x Sugar baby! F! Reader

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

AO3: Fragments of Us

Summary: Wanda loves spoiling you and she can't help the way her eyes darken with desire as she admires you in the outfit she carefully picked out for you.

Chapters can be read independently. Requests for snippets about Wanda are welcome!

Word Count: 829

Warnings: Smut, oral

You stepped out of the bedroom, adjusting the cuffs of your grey blazer. The fabric was soft, refined, and tailored perfectly, feeling luxurious against your skin. Across the living room, Wanda stood by the penthouse window, bathed in the warm glow of the city lights. Her red dress clung to her in all the right places, a slit revealing a teasing glimpse of her leg. She turned slowly, her piercing gaze locking with yours, and a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips.

“Why, don’t you look dashing,” Wanda purred, her eyes sweeping over you with approval. “I knew that outfit would suit you perfectly.”

A light chuckle escaped your lips as you ran a hand through your hair, the black turtleneck beneath the blazer clinging comfortably to your form.

“I have to admit,” you said, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, “I like it.”

Wanda stepped closer, her high heels clicking softly against the polished floor. You could smell her perfume – something expensive, with notes of jasmine and vanilla. She reached out, her manicured fingers brushing against the lapel of your blazer, straightening it.

“It’s almost unfair,” Wanda husked, her voice low and velvety. “How good you look. I might have to keep you all to myself tonight. Forget the gala.”

You held her gaze with a playful glint in your eye. “Oh yeah?”

Wanda hummed, her touch firm as she grabbed your wrist and led you to the couch. The leather was cool beneath you as you sank into it, your grey dress pants creasing perfectly at the knees. Wanda followed, settling beside you. Her legs crossed in a slow, deliberate motion, the hem of her dress sliding up just enough to tease more of her bare skin.

She leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear. “Do you want to make mommy happy?”

Her fingers trailed along your jawline, a featherlight touch that sent a ripple of warmth through your body. Instinctively, you leaned into her hand, craving more.

“Yes, mommy. Always.” You said, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Wanda’s emerald eyes darkened with desire. “Then show me.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as Wanda leaned back, her eyes never leaving yours. The silk of her dress slid higher up her thighs when she uncrossed her legs, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of black lace that made your mouth go dry. She spread her legs wider, her invitation clear, and heat pooled low in your gut, spreading like wildfire.

Your body moved on instinct, desire clouding your thoughts as you sank to your knees before her. You reached for the hem of Wanda’s dress, brushing against soft fabric and warm skin. You paused, glancing up through your lashes, searching her face for permission. Her gaze burned into you, dark and hungry, and she gave an imperceptible nod.

“Go on, darling,” she whispered, her voice thick with need. “Make mommy feel good.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

Your fingers found the edge of her panties, hooking beneath the fabric and sliding it to the side, revealing her glistening folds. Wanda was already wet, and the sight alone sent a jolt of arousal straight through you. Leaning in, your breath danced across her sensitive clit, making her inhale sharply. The sound only spurred you on.

Your tongue darted out, tasting her – warm, sweet, with a faint tang of salt.

A soft moan slipped past Wanda’s lips, and you answered with a slow, deliberate lick, savoring every second. You took your time, tongue tracing and exploring her, mapping out every inch of her pussy. Her fingers twisted into your hair, tightening as she pulled you closer, urging you deeper. You groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her body, making her thighs tremble around you.

“Yes,” Wanda breathed, her hips rocking against your face. “Just like that, baby. Just like that.”

Your tongue began to work her faster, your hands gripping her thighs to keep her still. Wanda was writhing beneath you, her moans growing louder.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped, her voice high with desperation. “I’m so close, baby. So close.”

You doubled your efforts, your tongue flickering against her clit rapidly as you slid two fingers inside of her, curling them just the way she liked. Wanda cried out, her body tensing, and you felt her walls clench around your fingers as she came undone, her release spilling over your tongue.

Wanda collapsed against the couch, her body sinking into the cushions as her chest heaved with each ragged breath. Her fingers remained tangled in your hair, a lazy grip that barely held on. Slowly, you pulled back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Your gaze drifted up to Wanda – her eyes were half-lidded, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

“You’re such a good girl,” Wanda murmured, her voice low and sated. “My perfect little sugar baby.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with pride.

[infamous-light]

Fragments of Us Ch. 7

Bottom! Wanda Maximoff x Older! F! Reader

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

AO3: Fragments of Us

Summary: After catching Wanda smoking and carelessly tossing her cigarette butt into your garden, you decide to teach her a lesson.

Chapters can be read independently. Requests for snippets about Wanda are welcome!

Word Count: 438

Warnings: Spanking

The late afternoon sun warmed your back as you tended to your garden, hose in hand, watering the delicate flowers you had worked so hard to cultivate. Just then, a faint curl of smoke caught your attention. You turned your head, catching sight of Wanda, the younger woman who had recently moved in next door. She leaned casually against your garden fence, a cigarette dangling lazily between her fingers.

You narrowed your eyes, unsure whether you were more annoyed by the smoking or the fact that Wanda had decided to use your pristine garden as her lounging spot. Thin wisps of smoke coiled above her head as she took a slow, deliberate drag, the cigarette’s cherry glowing like an ember in the dim light. It wasn’t until the flick of her wrist sent the cigarette butt flying into your bed of tulips that your temper snapped.

“Hey!” You called out, your voice sharp enough to make her flinch. “What do you think you’re doing!?”

Wanda turned toward you, clearly not expecting to be caught. Her shoulders stiffened for a brief moment before she straightened up, offering you a sheepish smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “Uh, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to –”

“Oh, you meant to,” you interrupted. “You think you can disrespect my property and just walk away? You know better than that, young lady. Come here.”

Wanda hesitated, shifting uncomfortably under your gaze, but she eventually obeyed. With a reluctant sigh, she trudged toward you with heavy steps. The moment she came within reach, you grabbed her wrist, guiding her toward your patio chair. The lattice screen around it offered just enough privacy to shield you both from prying eyes.

“Wait – what are you doing?” Wanda stammered, but you were already pulling her across your lap.

“You think I spend hours keeping this garden nice so you can use it as your ashtray?” You scolded.

Before she could offer an excuse, you unfastened her jeans and tugged them, along with her panties, down to her knees.

“Hey!” Wanda squeaked, struggling against your firm grip.

The first smack landed soundly, drawing a sharp gasp from Wanda’s lips as her fingers dug into your leg. Each swat that followed left her skin flushed and warm, a pink hue blooming across her ass. She whimpered with every strike, her protests growing softer until they became muffled apologies.

When you finally stopped, you rested your hand on her lower back. “This is what happens when you make poor choices. Are we clear?”

“Yes…” Wanda whispered, her voice shaky.

“Good. Now, get dressed and clean up that mess.”

[infamous-light]

Fragments of Us Ch. 6

Caretaker! Wanda Maximoff x Sick! Gender Neutral Reader

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

AO3: Fragments of Us

Summary: Wanda takes care of you while you're sick.

Chapters can be read independently. Requests for snippets about Wanda are welcome!

Word Count: 417

Wanda sat on the edge of the bed, her hand brushing tenderly across your damp forehead. Her face was etched with concern, the faint crease between her brows deepening as she felt the heat radiating from your feverish skin beneath her palm. A small sigh escaped her lips.

“You’re burning up,” Wanda murmured. Her thumb ghosted gently over your cheek before pulling back. “I told you to stay in bed earlier, didn’t I?”

Her lips quirked into a half-smile, an attempt to lighten the moment, but the worry in her eyes didn’t fade. You opened your mouth to respond but the words dissolved into a coughing fit that racked your chest, leaving you breathless and lightheaded. Wanda was quick to react, reaching for the glass of water on the nightstand.

“Easy, sweetheart. Just a sip.” She coaxed.

Wanda held the glass to your lips, tilting it just enough for the cool water to trickle into your mouth. The relief was immediate, the liquid quenching the dry burn in your throat. Once you settled back against the pillows, Wanda tucked the blankets snugly around you, fussing in a way that was both comforting and endearing.

“I made you some soup,” she added, gesturing toward the steaming bowl on the tray beside her. “It’s not exactly Sokovian, but it’s packed with enough garlic to scare away vampires and the flu.”

A weak laugh escaped you, and Wanda grinned, pleased to see some spark of life return to your face.

She leaned forward, reaching for the bowl of soup. Carefully, she spooned a small portion of the broth, her lips pursing slightly as she blew on it to cool it down. Satisfied, she lifted the spoon toward you. Her eyes met yours, waiting patiently until you parted your lips. As you did, Wanda guided the spoon into your mouth. The rich, savory warmth of the broth was a comfort as it slid down your throat, soothing the rawness there.

“You’re not allowed to get this sick again, okay? I don’t like seeing you like this.” Wanda said firmly, though her voice held a gentle warmth.

Summoning what little strength you had, you rasped, “I’ll try not to.”

A faint, lopsided grin tugged at your lips, a small effort to reassure her. Wanda’s eyes softened in response as she leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” she whispered, her fingers combing through your hair. “Now, let’s finish this soup, and then you can get some much-needed rest.”

[infamous-light]

Fragments of Us Ch. 5

Vampire! Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.6 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

AO3: Fragments of Us

Summary: Wanda feeds off you.

Chapters can be read independently. Requests for snippets about Wanda are welcome!

Word Count: 463

Warnings: Mild blood, slight possessive behavior

The dim glow of candlelight flickered across the walls as you lay on the bed, your heart pounding against your ribcage like a relentless drumbeat. Above you, Wanda loomed, her striking green eyes shimmering like emeralds in the soft light. When her full lips parted to reveal the pointed ends of her fangs, a jolt of nervous energy surged through you.

“Relax,” Wanda cooed, her voice soft and soothing, though it did little to calm your racing heart. She ran her fingers along your jawline, her touch cool but surprisingly tender before resting them on your shoulders. “I can hear it, you know – your heart. It’s intoxicating.”

Your breath hitched, and her smile grew, a wicked edge curling at the corners. Wanda leaned in closer, her red hair cascading around your face like a silken curtain. You could feel her breath against your neck, hot and teasing.

“Are you scared?” Wanda whispered, her lips grazing your skin ever so lightly, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

“No.” You managed to say, though the slight tremor in your voice gave you away.

Wanda hummed in amusement, her nose brushing against your pulse point as she inhaled deeply.

“Liar,” she purred. “But I like it.”

Wanda placed a soft, lingering kiss on your neck. Then, without warning, a sharp sting followed as her fangs pierced your skin, drawing a startled gasp from your lips. The sensation was a bewildering mix of pain and pleasure, leaving you breathless. Warmth spread through your veins almost instantly, a dizzying heat that coiled through you, forcing your fingers to clutch the bed sheets in a desperate grip.

Wanda’s lips pressed firmly against your throat, her fangs sinking deeper as she began to feed. The world around you started to tilt, and without even realizing it, you instinctively arched toward her, surrendering completely. Each pull sent a wave of weakness through you, leaving you lightheaded and your vision swimming at the edges, as though you were floating in a haze of bliss.

When Wanda finally withdrew, the absence of her mouth on your neck left a cold, aching emptiness, and a soft, breathy whimper escaped your lips, barely audible in the still air.

Wanda’s lips, now darkened with crimson, curled into a sly smirk as she caught the sound, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Leaning in slowly, her tongue darted out, gliding over the bitemark as she lapped up the last remnants of blood that oozed from the two puncture points.

“So sweet,” Wanda moaned. She pressed her body down against yours, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as she added in a low, possessive whisper, “You’re mine now.”

The words wrapped around you, sending a thrill throughout your body, and you found yourself yearning for more.

[infamous-light]

All I Think About Is You

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

AO3: All I Think About Is You

Summary: Wanda’s growing crush on Natasha doesn’t go unnoticed.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut, G!P Natasha, PIV sex, blow jobs, dirty talk, light dom/sub, fingering, seduction

Wanda had always told herself it was just admiration. Admiration for Natasha’s skill, her composure, her sheer presence.

But deep down, she knew better. It wasn’t just the way Natasha could captivate a room with just a smirk or how she carried herself with effortless grace. It was the way she made Wanda’s chest tighten, her stomach flutter, and her thoughts spin wildly out of control.

Every interaction left Wanda yearning for more: a glance that lingered a second too long, a soft laugh that sent warmth rushing through her veins, or the casual brush of fingertips that felt more intimate than it had any right to. Natasha was magnetic, and Wanda? She was hopelessly caught in her orbit.

Wanda sighed, clutching her water bottle as she walked down the Avengers compound hallway, trying not to think about the way Natasha had looked earlier that morning at breakfast. Her hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling in her face as she sipped her coffee, eyes still half-lidded from sleep. Wanda had stared for too long, her spoon frozen halfway to her mouth, until Natasha glanced up and arched a playful eyebrow. Wanda had quickly looked away, heat rushing to her face, but the memory of Natasha’s teasing smirk lingered stubbornly in her mind.

Now, as Wanda passed by the gym, the rhythmic thuds and soft grunts broke through her thoughts, pulling her from her reverie. Her heart skipped a beat – she recognized that sound. It was Natasha.

For a moment, Wanda hesitated, her hand resting on the cool metal of the door handle. She shouldn’t go in. She should keep walking, leave Natasha to her training, and save herself from the inevitable spiral of emotions she’d feel watching her. Yet, her feet refused to move. The thought of seeing Natasha – seeing her strength, her focus, her raw energy – was irresistible. Wanda swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the handle more firmly.

Finally, Wanda pushed the door open just wide enough to peek through.

Inside, Natasha was sparring against a training dummy. Wanda couldn’t help but watch in awe as the assassin’s lithe form executed a perfect roundhouse kick, her body twisting with precision and power. The dummy wobbled violently under the impact, but Natasha was already in motion again, her chest heaving with exertion as sweat glistened along her collarbones.

Wanda continued to stare, mesmerized. Her eyes wandered, taking in the sculpted muscles of Natasha’s arms, the way her tank top clung to her, damp with sweat. Wanda froze when her gaze slipped lower, landing on a subtle yet undeniable bulge pressing against the fabric of Natasha’s workout shorts. For a fleeting moment, her mind seemed to shut down entirely.

Then, a wave of heat surged between her thighs, settling there. She shouldn’t stare, couldn’t stare, but her traitorous eyes refused to obey. Wanda bit her lower lip, and her imagination ran wild before she could stop it.

She pictured herself on her knees, Natasha’s fingers tangling in her hair as the tip of her cock pressed firmly against her lips. She imagined the warmth of it, the weight, and how Natasha’s soft groan might sound as she –

Wanda jolted back, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. She clenched her hand tightly around the water bottle, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to steady herself. This was not appropriate – not the time, not the place, not… anything. And yet, her heart hammered, and her thighs squeezed together involuntarily.

“You okay there?” Natasha’s voice snapped the witch out of her thoughts.

Wanda’s eyes darted up to find Natasha watching her, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She was standing by the water cooler now, toweling off her neck, her green eyes sharp and knowing. Too knowing. Wanda shifted awkwardly on her feet, suddenly aware of how red her face must be.

“Yeah, I was just… uh, passing by.” Wanda stammered, gripping her water bottle like it could somehow deflect Natasha’s gaze.

“Uh-huh,” Natasha drawled, her smirk widening. “Next time, you should join me. Staring doesn’t exactly burn any calories.”

Wanda’s face flushed a deeper shade of crimson as Natasha approached her with a confident stride. She struggled to maintain her composure, her eyes stubbornly avoiding the prominent curve of Natasha’s bulge. Natasha tilted her head ever so slightly, her gaze trailing up and down Wanda’s form, lingering on every curve.

“You seem tense, Maximoff,” Natasha said, her voice smooth and velvety, laced with a teasing undertone. “Perhaps you should come by my room later,” she paused, her voice dropping into a hushed whisper. “I think we should... talk.”

Wanda’s lips parted, but no words came out. Talk? About what? But the way Natasha’s green eyes glinted with mischief told Wanda it wasn’t going to be a simple chat.

“I – uh...” Wanda stuttered, her face growing impossibly hotter. “Sure. I mean – okay. I’ll come by later.”

Natasha chuckled as she brushed past her. “Good. Be there in an hour. Don’t keep me waiting.”

With a towel draped over her shoulder, Natasha walked away, leaving Wanda standing there, her heart pounding, thoughts racing, and a slow, unmistakable heat pooling low in her abdomen.

***

An hour later, Wanda stood outside Natasha’s bedroom door, her fingers twisting anxiously in the fabric of her short black skirt. The hem barely brushed mid-thigh, revealing more skin than she was used to showing. Her low-cut red t-shirt hugged her figure, the neckline dipping just enough to highlight the curve of her collarbone and the faint swell of her breasts. She had chosen the outfit with care, hoping it would catch Natasha’s eye.

Wanda smoothed her hands down her skirt for the tenth time, trying to calm the nervous fluttering in her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked.

“Come in!” Natasha’s voice rang out.

Wanda stepped inside, and the sight that greeted her made her heart skip a beat. Natasha was lounging on the edge of her bed, her damp red hair falling in soft curls around her shoulders from a recent shower. She was dressed in a loose black tank top and navy-blue gym shorts that were so short that they left little to the imagination. The material hugged her thighs, accentuating every muscle, and the slight stretch of her legs revealed a large bulge that was impossible to ignore.

Though Natasha’s posture was relaxed, her gaze was anything but. The low-cut top Wanda wore drew Natasha’s attention, her eyes lingering before tracing the curve of her bare legs, exposed by the short skirt she had chosen. When their eyes met again, Natasha’s smoldering intensity sent a shiver coursing through Wanda.

“You came,” Natasha said, her lips curving into a slow smile. “Good.”

Wanda nodded, unsure of what to do with her hands or where to look. She lingered near the door, feeling both drawn in and overwhelmed by the tension growing in the air. Natasha rose slowly, closing the distance between them in a few unhurried steps. Wanda could barely breathe as Natasha came to a stop mere inches away.

“You look nervous,” Natasha said in a low voice. Her fingers grazed against Wanda’s wrist, a fleeting touch that sent a spark of electricity through her. “Don’t be. I don’t bite –” she paused, her smile deepening. “Unless you ask nicely.”

Wanda’s throat tightened, her breath catching.

“I’m not nervous.” She replied, though the waver in her voice betrayed her.

“Is that so?” Natasha’s gaze lingered on Wanda’s lips before flickering back up to meet her eyes. Her hand rose, fingertips tracing a slow, tantalizing path along Wanda’s forearm. “Then why is your heart racing?”

“I –” Wanda’s words failed her.

Natasha leaned in closer, her voice a whisper against Wanda’s ear. “It’s okay. I just want to… get to know you better.” She pulled back just enough to meet Wanda’s eyes again, the corner of her mouth lifting in a wicked grin. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer to leave.”

The challenge hung in the air, daring Wanda to stay. There was something in Natasha’s tone, something about the way her presence seemed to wrap around her like a silken thread, that made it impossible to walk away.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Wanda said, her voice steady now.

Natasha’s smile widened, her fingers lightly trailing down Wanda’s arm. “Good,” she said again. “Because I’ve been waiting for this.”

“I – Natasha...” Wanda moaned, her words faltering as Natasha’s lips began to move down her jawline, placing the softest of kisses there.

“Relax, Wanda,” Natasha murmured, her hands holding onto Wanda’s hips to steady her. “I’ll take care of you.”

Wanda’s knees nearly gave out at the promise in Natasha’s voice, her hands instinctively gripping Natasha’s shoulders for support. Any coherent thought fled as Natasha’s lips found hers – slow, tender, yet irresistibly intense – pulling her under like a tide she couldn’t resist.

Natasha’s lips were like a slow-burning flame, searing into Wanda’s with a heat that threatened to consume her entirely. Natasha’s hands moved with purpose, one threading through Wanda’s hair while the other slid down her back, drawing the witch closer until their bodies melded together. Wanda moaned as Natasha’s tongue swept against hers, teasing and demanding all at once. She could feel Natasha’s smirk against her lips, that smug confidence that never failed to send a delicious shiver down her spine.

Natasha’s hand drifted lower, fingertips brushing the hem of Wanda’s skirt before slipping underneath. The touch was delicate, feather-light, yet it made Wanda’s breath hitch, nonetheless. Natasha’s fingers skimmed along the curve of her thigh, moving higher until they brushed against the damp fabric of her lace panties. Wanda trembled, her knees shaking as Natasha’s touch grew firmer, rubbing slow circles over the sensitive clit hidden beneath.

“Natasha.” Wanda breathed, her voice a shaky whisper as she broke away from the kiss.

Her hips rocked forward involuntarily, desperate for more pressure, more friction, more of her. But Natasha only chuckled, the sound a low, sinful vibration in her throat. Her lips traced a path down Wanda’s neck, teasing, while her fingers maintained their maddening, deliberate rhythm.

“You’re so wet already,” Natasha said, her voice a husky purr that sent a jolt straight to Wanda’s core. “Do you even realize what you do to me? How much I want to ruin you right now?”

Wanda whimpered, her nails digging into Natasha’s shoulders as she tried to ground herself. Natasha smirked, the sound fueling her determination as her fingers tugged Wanda’s panties aside, exposing her. Without hesitation, she slid two fingers deep inside Wanda’s slick heat. Wanda gasped, the sudden, direct contact almost drawing a sharp cry from her lips. Natasha began to pump her fingers steadily, her knuckles brushing teasingly against Wanda’s walls with each thrust. Each stroke sent sparks racing through Wanda’s veins, igniting every nerve until her entire body trembled against Natasha.

The wet sounds of her pussy being fingered, the glide of Natasha’s fingers, and the warmth of her lips on Wanda’s skin were beginning to push her to the edge. It was too much, too consuming – until another force took over, an all-encompassing need to have Natasha.

Wanda shoved Natasha back, the force making her stumble slightly. Natasha's eyes widened in surprise, but before she could react, Wanda’s hands were on her again, firmly guiding her to sit on the edge of the bed.

An amused smile appeared on Natasha’s lips a second later, clearly enjoying the shift in power.

“Oh, are we playing rough now?” Natasha teased, leaning back on her elbows as she watched Wanda sink to her knees before her.

Wanda just smirked, her hands reaching for the waistband of Natasha’s shorts. In one swift motion, she tugged them down just enough to expose what she had been craving.

Natasha’s cock sprang free, thick, hard, and achingly perfect. Wanda couldn’t help but marvel at it, her gaze lingering, captivated. It was undeniably large, a 9-inch monster. For a fleeting moment, doubt flickered through Wanda’s mind – wondering if it would even fit inside her mouth or her tight pussy. Yet, she quickly dismissed the thought. She had wanted Natasha for far too long to let size be a barrier. She’ll make it fit.

Wanda’s fingers curled around the heavy base, testing its weight with an experimental stroke. Natasha groaned, the sound deep and guttural, her hips lifting off the bed in a wordless plea. A bead of precum glistened at the tip, catching Wanda's eye, and she leaned in closer, her warm breath ghosting over the sensitive head.

A soft hum of appreciation escaped her lips, low and sultry, as if relishing the sight of Natasha's growing need.

“You’re so perfect, Natasha. Every part of you... even this.” She gently stroked again, savoring the shape, the firmness, the way it filled her hand. A sly smile curled her lips. “Hm, I can’t wait to wrap my lips around this huge cock,” Wanda purred. “To feel you throb, give in, and come undone as I take you deep into my throat.”

She placed a tender kiss to the underside of the tip, her lips lingering there as she looked up at Natasha with half-lidded eyes.

“Fuck, Wanda,” Natasha rasped, her hand tangling in Wanda’s hair as if to guide her. But Wanda didn’t need guidance – she knew exactly what she wanted.

Wanda’s green eyes glimmered with dark amusement as her tongue darted out, swiping across the slit before she carefully took the head into her mouth. At first, the fit was tight, and Wanda struggled slightly, the resistance drawing a soft cough from her. Natasha swore under her breath, her grip tightening in Wanda’s hair as she encouraged her to take more, to relax. Slowly, Wanda eased her way down. As her head began to move, she started to gently bob up and down, taking more of Natasha’s length with each pass. The taste of her was intoxicating, salt and musk and something uniquely Natasha, and Wanda moaned around her, the vibrations drawing another sharp intake of breath from Natasha.

Natasha's thighs shook, her breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps as Wanda's other hand slid up, cupping her balls. Her fingers kneaded them in perfect sync with the rhythm of her mouth. Every touch, every caress, intensified the mounting tension within Natasha, coiling tighter and tighter, like a bowstring on the verge of snapping.

It wasn’t long before Natasha began to thrust into Wanda’s mouth, her control fraying as pleasure overtook her. Wanda hollowed her cheeks, sucking deeply, her tongue gliding over every sensitive ridge and curve as she felt Natasha’s cock twitch against her lips.

“I’m close,” Natasha warned, her voice strained. “Don’t stop.”

Wanda didn’t intend to. She fought to push just a few more inches past her lips, the strain drawing a gag from her throat. The sight of Wanda teary-eyed, her mouth stretched halfway down her spit-slicked cock, was the final trigger. With a deep, guttural groan, Natasha came, her release spilling into Wanda’s eager mouth.

Wanda responded with a soft, muffled moan, savoring the warm, intoxicating sensation of Natasha's come flowing down her throat. She kept her lips firmly sealed around Natasha’s cock, drawing out every drop, her hands holding her hips steady as Natasha rode out the rest of her orgasm.

When Natasha finally stilled, Wanda pulled back, swallowing everything as she looked up at the woman before her. Natasha’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes shimmered with an intense, burning desire. Without a word, she stood up and hauled Wanda to her feet, guiding her onto the bed.

In the next breath, Natasha flipped Wanda onto her stomach. Wanda barely had time to comprehend what was happening before Natasha’s hands were on her once more, hiking her skirt up around her waist and yanking her panties down. Settling herself behind Wanda, Natasha took a moment, her cock still hard as she aligned herself with Wanda’s entrance. Slowly, she began to push inside. Wanda cried out, her hands clutching the bed sheets as she felt herself stretch to accommodate Natasha’s girth. The sensation was intense – painful yet deeply pleasurable – as Natasha continued to slide deeper, inch by inch, filling her completely.

Natasha paused for a moment, giving Wanda time to adjust, but she wasn’t having it.

“Natasha, I swear, if you don’t fuck me already…” Wanda demanded, her voice cracking with desperation.

Natasha obliged, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in with a force that made Wanda see stars.

The pace Natasha set was ruthless, each thrust driving Wanda closer to the edge. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed through the bedroom, mingling with their shared moans and whimpers.

“God, you feel so good,” Natasha panted, her rhythm faltering as her own pleasure mounted. “So fucking tight,” she punctuated her words with a deep, sharp thrust, burying herself to the hilt. “Such a perfect little cockslut for me.”

Wanda could only nod, her mind consumed by the cock spearing in and out of her cunt. Her body quaked, teetering on the edge, every nerve alight. She was so close, so unbearably close, and she could tell Natasha was too.

Natasha’s movements grew erratic, her hips stuttering as she lost herself in the moment, chasing her release with reckless abandon. Wanda met each thrust with equal fervor, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony. Then, with a cry that bordered on a shout, Wanda shattered, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave.

Seconds later, Natasha followed, her cock pulsing as she came hard, emptying herself deep inside Wanda. For a moment, they stayed like that, both shivering as the aftershocks rolled through them. With a soft, contented sigh, Natasha pulled out and eased down beside Wanda, her arm curling around the witch to draw her close.

“You okay?” Natasha whispered, her voice soft and soothing.

Wanda nodded, lifting her hand to rest against Natasha's cheek. “I’m fine.”

Natasha leaned into the touch, closing her eyes in comfort.

“Good.” She murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Wanda's palm.

They held each other close until they fell into a light, peaceful sleep.

[infamous-light]

Fragments of Us Ch. 4

Wanda Maximoff x F! Reader

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

AO3: Fragments of Us

Summary: Wanda rides your enchanted strap.

Chapters can be read independently. Requests for snippets about Wanda are welcome!

Word Count: 524

Warnings: Smut, enchanted strap on (R wearing), riding

“Are you sure this will work?” You asked, your voice tinged with doubt as Wanda hovered over you, her thighs pressing against your hips.

A mischievous smile spread across her lips, her eyes glowing faintly with that scarlet hue you've learned to both fear and desire.

“Of course it will,” Wanda purred. “I know what I’m doing.”

Her fingers traced the length of the red dildo nestled securely in the harness, its solid presence resting against your pelvis. Though it was just an object, a shiver ran through you, as if her touch was real but you supposed it was about to be in a second. Wanda murmured something under her breath – a string of words you didn’t understand but recognized as Sokovian. The language flowed from her lips like honey, smooth and mesmerizing. The toy shimmered beneath her touch, the surface catching the light and radiating with a faint crimson glow.

“There,” she said, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Now it’s a part of you. Do you feel that?”

And you did. It’s a sensation that took you by surprise – every inch of it pulsed through you as if it was intertwined with your very flesh. Your breath suddenly got caught in your throat as Wanda’s fingers began to glide up and down your enchanted cock, each touch sending an electrifying thrill straight through you.

“Y-Yeah, I do.” You gasped as your fingers tightened desperately into the bed sheets.

“Good,” Wanda whispered, leaning in close, her lips brushing against your earlobe. “Now, you’ll feel everything. Every thrust, every ache… until you can’t take it anymore.”

Her words sent a jolt through you, a mix of anticipation and arousal that left you reeling.

Without wasting another second, Wanda moved, her gaze never leaving yours as she guided the tip of your cock to her slick, eager entrance. The hunger in her eyes mirrored the burning need coursing through your own veins. For a heartbeat, the world held its breath, and then, with deliberate slowness, she lowered herself onto you.

The sensation was indescribable. It wasn’t just the physical pressure, the way her warmth enveloped you – it was the way you felt her.

“Fuck…” Wanda moaned, her head tilting back, exposing the delicate, inviting curve of her neck.

Her thighs quivered as she began to ride your cock, each movement sending sparks of pleasure through both of you. You gripped Wanda’s hips tightly, guiding her with steady hands as her body moved with increasing urgency, her breaths quick and shallow. With each thrust, you watched, entranced, as your cock disappeared deeper into her cunt, slipping in and out with rhythmic ease.

Wanda’s inner walls clenched around you, and you could feel her teetering on the edge, just as you were.

“Come with me.” Wanda demanded, her nails digging into your shoulders painfully.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. With a cry, you gave in, your bodies convulsing in unison as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. The world around you faded into a blur, but in that moment, all you could focus on was Wanda – her warmth, her cunt, and her heart hammering against yours.

[infamous-light]

Fragments of Us Ch. 3

Dom! Wanda Maximoff x Bratty! Gender Neutral Reader

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

AO3: Fragments of Us

Summary: Wanda decides to punish you for being bratty.

Chapters can be read independently. Requests for snippets about Wanda are welcome!

Word Count: 430

Warnings: Spanking, magical restraints

A dangerous glimmer flickered within Wanda’s eyes as she languidly crossed one leg over the other, the red satin robe riding up her thighs. Sitting poised on the edge of the bed, her gaze bore into you, its weight almost tangible as you stood before her.

“You’ve been such a naughty little brat.” Wanda said, her voice a low, menacing purr.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest, but the playful spark of defiance in your eyes refused to waver. You knew exactly what you had done. Earlier, at the party, you had deliberately teased Wanda – standing a little too close to someone, letting your laughter stretch a beat too long, all while knowing it would stir that possessive side of her. Now, the repercussions of your little game were catching up to you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You replied, offering a mocking smile as you feigned innocence.

Wanda’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. She recognized the provocation for exactly what it was. With a casual flick of her wrist, your legs buckled, the sharp pull of her magic forcing you to kneel before her. Then, a warm, crimson haze coiled around your wrists, binding them tightly behind your back. Wanda reached out, her fingers gripping your chin and tilting your face upward, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“You think you can just keep testing me, don’t you?” She asked, arching an eyebrow.

You met her gaze with a shit-eating grin, unapologetically challenging her. The corner of Wanda’s lips quirked.

Before you could respond, her magic enveloped you, lifting you effortlessly and positioning you across her lap. The sudden motion made you yelp, your pulse racing as you tried to wriggle away, but Wanda placed a firm hand between your shoulder blades, pressing you face-first into the mattress.

“Let’s see how long that bratty attitude lasts when you’re properly punished.” Wanda said with a cool, assured tone as she tugged your pants down halfway.

You opened your mouth to protest but your words were cut off when her hand connected sharply on your backside. A startled gasp escaped your lips, and before you could fully process the sting, Wanda delivered another harsh smack, then another, each one landing in quick succession. Heat bloomed across your ass and the defiance within you melted away, replaced by a soft, needy whimper.

Wanda's chuckle rumbled low, full of dark satisfaction.

“Now, are you going to behave?” She asked, her voice gentle yet commanding.

All you could do was nod, completely submitting to Wanda’s mercy.

[infamous-light]

Hello! I love your story you belong to me!! its very well done and i look forward to every chapter. I'm wanting to upload my own fanfic but I'm not sure how to format it and I really like yours! How do you link to your previous chapters and to Ao3? Also, how do you get the " keep reading" undercut so its not a massive text post. Sorry im not great with tech so if you could help at all, I would be grateful

Hi, I'll try my best to explain it! It's pretty easy once you know what you're doing.

To link to previous chapters, you need to copy the link of the tumblr post first (click on the three dots in the upper right, then select "copy link") or an ao3 link. Then type what you want, for ex. "Ch.1" Highlight all of it and you'll see a paperclip icon among a few choices and its called "inline link". Click on it and paste the link, then click done. It'll be underlined.

The read more option will appear at the end of these colorful icons when you're creating your tumblr post. It will have a squiggly line in between two straight lines. All you have to do is click on it, then you're done!

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 11

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch.10

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, canon typical violence

The grand doors of Castle Dimitrescu groaned as they swung open, allowing the silver moonlight to spill across the polished marble floors. Lady Dimitrescu stepped inside, cradling your limp form in her arms. Your body trembled, delicate and frail, as the aftereffects of the strange, cloying substance from Lady Beneviento’s garden still coursed through your veins.

“Mother,” Bela greeted, stepping forward with a spark of delight glinting in her amber eyes. “I’m so pleased to see that you’ve brought her back. I was beginning to worry she might’ve been lost to us forever.”

Cassandra and Daniela positioned themselves on either side of their older sister, their eyes flickering between their mother and the pitiful sight of you.

“Likewise,” Lady Dimitrescu replied, her eyes narrowing with barely concealed rage as she glared down at you, making her displeasure clear. “She should consider herself fortunate to have returned to my care, unharmed, I might add.”

Her grip on you tightened for a moment, a firm, possessive squeeze that made you shrink in her grasp.

“She is lucky to be in one piece,” Cassandra remarked, her lips curling into a wicked grin. “The Lycans out there would tear her apart without a second thought. The village is no place for a delicate little thing like her.”

Daniela’s laughter followed, a dark, almost sinister giggle.

Lady Dimitrescu, however, made no comment. She merely hummed as she carried you toward the plush couch by the crackling fireplace. Gently, she lowered you onto the soft cushions, her touch almost tender despite the anger surrounding her.

For a brief moment, your gaze wandered to the Lady’s daughters as they moved around their mother. Bela stood poised beside her mother while in stark contrast, Cassandra slouched lazily into an armchair, one leg draped carelessly over the armrest. With a casual flick of her wrist, she unsheathed her sickle, her fingers tracing its sharp edge as she absentmindedly twirled it in her hand. Daniela, standing just behind Bela, fidgeted with an almost restless energy, her fingers twitching at her sides as though itching for action.

Your attention returned to Lady Dimitrescu as she rose to her full, imposing height, her presence casting a shadow over you. With her hands planted firmly on her hips, she glared down at you in clear disapproval.

“I must say, I am deeply disappointed in you, pet,” she began, her voice unnervingly calm. “Escaping was an act of sheer foolishness. You should have known better than to believe you could actually get away.”

Lady Dimitrescu went quiet, her eyes swirling with a mix of emotions. For a moment, she seemed almost… hurt.

“I have provided everything for you,” she pressed on, bitterness sharpening her tone. “The food you eat, the clothes on your back, the very shelter that keeps you safe from the outside world. You have been cared for in ways no one else could ever offer you, yet this is how you repay me – by behaving like a spoiled, ungrateful brat.” The final word was spat with venom.

The foyer sank into a thick, oppressive silence, the weight of her words settling like a heavy fog. Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t wrong, not entirely – she had given you all those things. But underneath it all, you were nothing more than a pet to her. A possession. A creature she controlled, drugged, and twisted for her own needs.

You didn’t ask for any of this!

The truth lingered at the back of your tongue, but you dared not voice it. Not right now, at least.

Then, with a slow, menacing drawl, she spoke again, her voice dripping with chilling finality. “If you even consider escaping again, remember this: I know exactly where your family lives.”

A cold wave of horror washed over you, slowly wrapping around your heart and settling deep in the pit of your stomach. “No…”

A malicious smile formed on Lady Dimitrescu’s lips as she leaned in, almost relishing the fear emanating from you. “Oh yes, while you’ve been scurrying about, Bela kindly informed me of your family’s whereabouts. Though, I would’ve eventually pieced it together on my own. It just made tracking you down far simpler than I anticipated.”

Your eyes darted to Bela, whose expression was unreadable. The memory of her question from days ago resurfaced: she’d asked, almost casually over lunch, if you had any family left in your village. At the time, you wanted to avoid the subject, to say nothing, but you knew that Bela and her sisters would easily see through any lie. You had no choice but to answer truthfully.

Now, a bitter understanding settled in – you realized that was exactly how Bela intended to use that information against you.

“The villagers, too, were remarkably helpful, offering up all sorts of details. It didn’t take long before I paid your family a visit.” Lady Dimitrescu’s smile grew wider, her head tilting as her eyes sparkled with dark amusement. “I know exactly who they are, where they are, and just how easy it would be to pay them another... visit.”

A tremor ran through your body, every nerve on edge. She knew where your parents lived, and she could hurt them if she chose to.

“I hope you understand now, pet, that there’s no use in running. I will always find you.” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice trailed off before her expression hardened. “Don’t make me remind you of the consequences of such reckless actions again. You won't like what happens next time.”

Her words sank deep, like ice settling in your chest. The long-forgotten dreams of freedom, of returning home, felt so distant now, like a fading memory slipping through your grasp.

“So, my little runaway,” Lady Dimitrescu began, a sardonic smile curling her lips. “Care to enlighten me? How, exactly, did you manage to find the house key?”

Your heartbeat thundered in your chest, still reeling from her prior words. You had hoped she would forget about the method of your escape, but it seemed that hope was in vain. All you could do was stare up at her, helpless.

“Well?” Lady Dimitrescu prompted.

There was no way you could tell her the truth. You couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that might get someone hurt – or worse, killed, because of your confession.

Should you risk lying?

The dilemma churned inside of you like a relentless storm. No matter how you tried to spin the story, you knew the Lady and her daughters would sense your deception. But perhaps you didn’t need to tell her every little detail – just enough to satisfy her questions.

You took a shaky breath before responding, “I found the key in Miss Bela’s bedchambers, my Lady.”

Lady Dimitrescu raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, her irritation palpable.

“I know where the key was, you foolish little girl,” she said, her voice thick with impatience. “What I want to know is how you knew to look there.”

Her gaze held you captive, demanding an answer.

For a fleeting moment, the image of that young woman slipping you the note flashed across your mind. Your throat tightened as guilt and desperation warred within you. If you told the Lady the truth, you'd be handing her the woman's head on a silver platter.

“Pet,” Lady Dimitrescu warned. “Choose your next words wisely. I will uncover the truth, one way or another.”

A shudder ran through you, and you shut your eyes tight, bile rising in your throat. You despised yourself for what you were about to say.

“The maid who brought us breakfast yesterday gave me a note. It told me where the key was hidden. That’s how I managed to escape.”

Four pairs of eyes fixed on you, their gazes like fiery brands, burning into your skin.

“I suspected you didn’t orchestrate this on your own.” Lady Dimitrescu muttered to herself.

You could almost see the cogs turning in her mind, replaying yesterday’s events. Her eyes snapped back to you, as sharp as a dagger. “That would explain your erratic behavior that morning.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze locked on you, calculating. Gradually, she turned her attention to her eldest daughter.

“Bela,” she said, her voice colder than before. “Which of the staff has access to clean your bedchambers?”

Bela’s frown deepened, her brows knitting together as suspicion settled on her face.

“Ingrid and Ana,” she said slowly. Then, her expression grew darker as a sudden realization flickered across her features. “It seems one of them has been rummaging through my belongings if they knew where the key was hidden.”

Lady Dimitrescu turned back to you, her gaze chilling. “Who did you ask for help?”

Your heart raced, and your mouth moved in a silent plea, but no words escaped as the pressure in your throat tightened.

“Answer me, pet!” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice rang out as she closed in on you. “Who else helped you? And don’t even think of lying to me – I’m well aware that either Ingrid or Ana tipped off that maid about the key’s location. She’s new and belongs to the kitchen staff only; she wouldn’t have known on her own. And I highly doubt you knew to approach either of Bela’s maids for help first, so tell me, who did you ask for help initially?”

Your heart was beating so fast you could have sworn it was about to burst from your chest at any moment.

Her gaze was pure steel as she bit out each word. “Who. Was. It?”

The image of Catalina appeared in your mind.

You didn’t want to betray her. She was your dearest friend, the one who had stood by you through so much. You owed her everything. You couldn’t – wouldn’t – do this to her. The thought of it made tears begin to well in your eyes, blurring your vision.

Without warning, Lady Dimitrescu seized your jaw, her fingers digging painfully into your cheeks.

“Tell. Me.” Her voice was a deadly growl. “Or I’ll have one of my daughters drag a servant in here and have her be flayed alive. And you will watch.”

Your heart thundered in your chest as her threat rattled through you. The thought of someone innocent – someone who had no part in this – being dragged in here and killed for no reason, made your stomach twist. You couldn’t let that happen and Lady Dimitrescu knew that. Defeated, your gaze lowered to the floor, and a single, broken whisper fell from your lips. “Catalina.”

Lady Dimitrescu inhaled sharply through her nose.

“So, it appears I have a nest of rats scurrying through my castle,” she hissed, her fingers releasing the grip on your jaw. “Girls, wake the entire staff. Have them gathered here. Immediately.”

Your eyes widened at the command.

“It seems I must remind everyone of the consequences awaiting those who so blatantly disregard my rules.”

Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze lingered on you, a silent warning in her eyes.

***

The main foyer of Castle Dimitrescu was awash with a tense silence.

The staff stood in a nervous cluster, their eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and unease, darting toward you before quickly averting their gaze, as if your very presence might condemn them. Then you saw her – Catalina. Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a bloodless line. Her wide, horrified eyes locked onto yours, freezing you in place. You struggled to meet her gaze, the weight of what you’d done making your chest feel hollow and heavy at once.

You stood by the fireplace, its flickering warmth doing little to calm the relentless hammer of your heart against your ribs. Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela surrounded the staff, their sharp gazes dissecting them like wolves surveying a pen of sheep.

At the forefront of the foyer, Lady Dimitrescu loomed, her lips pressed into a tight, displeased line.

“Ingrid, Ana, Petra, and Catalina. Step forward.” Lady Dimitrescu ordered.

The four women moved forward hesitantly, their steps faltering, as though the floor might give way beneath them. Their heads remained bowed, avoiding Lady Dimitrescu’s intense glare.

“It seems that you all have taken it upon yourselves to defy me. To aid my pet in an audacious attempt to… escape.” The last word dripped from her lips like poison.

Her gaze sliced toward you for the briefest moment and a shiver snaked down your spine under the force of her stare.

The staff exchanged nervous looks, but none dared to speak.

Lady Dimitrescu shifted her full attention back to the four women, now quaking before her.

“Petra,” she purred, her voice a dangerous caress. “Tell me, who was stupid enough to reveal the location of the main house key to you?”

Petra’s face drained of color, and she trembled, her fingers nervously twisting the frayed edge of her apron as if it could somehow steady her.

“I-It was Ingrid, my Lady.” She stammered.

Ingrid’s eyes widened, panic swirling within them. Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze snapped toward Ingrid, who flinched as if struck.

“Is that true?” Lady Dimitrescu demanded.

Ingrid’s lips quivered, unable to form any words at first. Then, she nodded frantically, her voice breaking. “Yes, my Lady! But it wasn’t my fault! I-I only did it because Catalina asked me to! She came to me first!”

Catalina’s face twisted in desperation as she let out a strangled cry. “Please, my Lady! I –”

Lady Dimitrescu raised a hand and Catalina’s voice died mid-sentence. Her gaze swept over them before settling on Ana, who stood frozen, her hands shaking at her sides. She studied Ana in silence, her eyes narrowing with an intensity that made the woman’s knees nearly buckle.

“Ana,” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice softer now, but no less commanding. “Get back in line.”

Ana nodded quickly, her voice a shaky whisper. “Y-Yes, my Lady.”

Ana retreated into the crowd, her shoulders quaking, a mix of dread and relief coursing through her.

“So,” Lady Dimitrescu drawled, her voice lethal. “You three find it acceptable to conspire against me? To assist my pet in such a brazen act of defiance?”

They shook their heads in unison, eyes wide with terror.

Lady Dimitrescu’s eyes settled on Petra, and a slow, cruel smile appeared on her lips.

“You disappoint me, Petra,” she said, her tone deceptively soft. “Two weeks. You’ve been under my roof for a mere two weeks, and already you’ve committed an offense that I cannot overlook.”

With a sharp flick of her wrist, five gleaming blades extended from her fingertips, catching the faint light like the fangs of a beast. Petra gasped, her eyes widening in sheer horror as Lady Dimitrescu’s other hand shot out, grabbing her forearm and lifting her up in midair.

“No! Please, my Lady! Have mercy!” Petra begged, but her cries were cut short as Lady Dimitrescu’s claws plunged into her chest with a sickening crunch, tearing through flesh and bone with ruthless efficiency.

A frightened yelp slipped past your lips, and you instinctively clamped a hand over your mouth in shock, unable to tear your eyes away from the grisly scene. The staff erupted in horrified gasps and screams as Petra’s lifeless body crumpled to the floor, her blood spreading in a dark, viscous pool around her.

Ingrid’s chest heaved with shallow, panicked breaths, her eyes flickering anxiously between the Lady and the door. Desperation overtook reason as she bolted past Lady Dimitrescu and headed straight for the exit.

She didn’t make it far.

Cassandra appeared in a blur of movement, her sickle gleaming as it arced through the air with lethal precision. It found its mark, embedding deep into Ingrid’s calf with a wet, visceral thud. Ingrid’s scream tore through the foyer – a raw, guttural cry of pain and terror – as she collapsed onto the cold, unforgiving floor. Looming over her, Cassandra grinned wickedly, her smile stretching unnaturally wide. With a cruel twist, she ripped the sickle free, drawing another tortured wail from Ingrid. Cassandra chuckled with sadistic delight.

Lady Dimitrescu shifted her focus back to Catalina, who had collapsed on the floor in a trembling heap, a strangled sob escaping her lips. She shook so violently that it seemed as though her fragile body might break apart. A cold knot of terror formed in your gut as Lady Dimitrescu began to advance on Catalina, her blades still glinting with Petra’s blood.

You couldn’t let Catalina die.

“No!” The cry ripped from your throat, raw and desperate.

Before you could process what was happening, your body moved on its own. You rushed forward, wrapping your arms tightly around Lady Dimitrescu's legs as best as you could.

“Please!” You pleaded, your voice breaking as you buried your face against her dress. “Don’t hurt her! I promise – I’ll never try to escape again! Just please, spare her!”

The words tumbled out in a frantic stream, muffled against the rich fabric as your tears soaked through. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up, too afraid to meet the wrathful glare you could feel boring down on you. Yet, even as your heart raced and fear clawed at your insides, you tightened your hold, hoping against hope that your plea would be enough to save Catalina’s life.

Every second stretched into an eternity as Lady Dimitrescu remained still.

Then, ever so slowly, her claws retracted. A large, iron-like hand curled possessively around the nape of your neck and tugged you away from her legs. She leaned down, her lips grazing your ear as she whispered in a voice meant only for you to hear, “Very well. I will spare her. But understand this – her life is now in your hands, pet. Do not make me regret this decision.”

A wave of relief washed over you, causing the tension in your body to ease slightly. However, as her words sank in, a flicker of nervousness twisted in your stomach. The realization that Catalina’s life – her very survival – was now solely dependent on your actions.

Straightening up again, Lady Dimitrescu fixed her burning gaze on Catalina.

“Get out of my sight.” She sneered.

Catalina scrambled to her feet; her sobs muffled as she fled the foyer. The rest of the staff stood motionless, paralyzed by fear. It wasn't until Lady Dimitrescu's icy gaze passed over them that the tension in the air seemed to break.

“Let this be a lesson to all of you,” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice echoed. “Disobedience will not be tolerated. And if any of you dare assist my pet in escaping, let me make this perfectly clear: I will hunt you down and ensure that your suffering is far greater than anything you could ever imagine. Dismissed.”

The staff immediately scattered like roaches.

Lady Dimitrescu glanced at Cassandra, a smirk beginning to pull at her lips. “Take Ingrid to the cellar. Do what you will with her.”

“Yes, mother.” Cassandra's smile grew wider, her eyes gleaming with predatory hunger as she gazed down at Ingrid, who clutched her bleeding leg. “We’re going to have so much fun together.”

Ingrid screamed in agony as she was roughly hauled away by the sickle lodged deeply in her leg. Cassandra cackled maddeningly and a sense of dread filled you as you feared for Ingrid's fate. But as the sound of Ingrid’s cries faded, your gaze shifted, drawn to Petra’s lifeless body.

Lady Dimitrescu chuckled at Cassandra’s antics before turning toward her two remaining daughters. “Bela, Daniela, fetch me a pair of manacles and deliver them to my bedchambers, please. Oh, and have someone clean this mess up.” She motioned toward Petra's bloody corpse, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“Yes, mother.” They replied in unison, their forms dissolving into a swarm of flies before vanishing to carry out their mother's command.

The mention of manacles being brought to her bedchambers should have sounded an alarm in your mind, yet you remained trapped in a strange, dazed trance. Your eyes stayed locked on Petra, the horror of the scene almost too much to process. The sight of her, so cold and still, made you sick. You had always known Lady Dimitrescu was capable of such cruelty but seeing it up close was still difficult to bear.

Lady Dimitrescu's gaze flickered over to you, catching your reaction. With a heavy sigh, she bent down and scooped you up into her arms.

“This had to be done,” she explained, her tone softening. “The staff needed to learn their place. They need to understand that you are mine and they will respect that – whether they wish to or not. I cannot allow disobedience like this to happen again.”

You remained silent, the words hollowing out your chest. Petra had suffered this fate only because she had tried to help you, and you loathed yourself for it.

Lady Dimitrescu continued talking but it sounded distant, muffled, as if you were submerged underwater. The world around you seemed to slip away, and you barely registered the sensation of being carried through the halls. It wasn't until she lowered you onto the vast, plush bed that your surroundings began to make themselves known.

Moments later, Bela and Daniela appeared, each holding a set of heavy manacles. Their gazes darted to you briefly before focusing on their mother.

“Secure them to the bed.” Lady Dimitrescu said.

Bela and Daniela moved swiftly as they fastened the manacles to the bedposts. Bela grabbed your left wrist, her touch firm, and for a brief moment, you glanced up at her in confusion. Before you could react, she clicked the manacle into place. Daniela mirrored her sister's actions, grasping your left ankle and locking it into its own restraint. With a mischievous grin, she gave the manacle a light, almost mocking pat.

“There we go.” Daniela remarked, her smile wide.

You stared at Lady Dimitrescu in disbelief. “What...?”

Her gaze swept over you as she sat by her vanity, her fingers starting to remove the hairclips.

“I don’t trust you,” Lady Dimitrescu stated simply. “Despite the promise you had made earlier, it would be foolish of me not to take any precautions.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. Deep down, you had known that something like this would happen once she found you again, but it still didn’t make you feel any better.

“Don’t pout, pet,” Lady Dimitrescu cooed. “If you prove yourself obedient, I might consider removing them. But for now, during bedtime, you will remain restrained.”

Your face fell further, a blend of anger and resignation swirling within you. Lady Dimitrescu tsked softly before turning her attention to her daughters.

“Thank you, girls. You may go.” Her lips curved into a smile, carrying a hint of warmth.

Bela and Daniela returned their mother’s smile before slipping out of the bedroom, their footsteps gradually fading into the quiet halls.

Lady Dimitrescu rose gracefully from her vanity and approached the bedside where you lay. Leaning over, she placed a hand on your chest, her touch gentle as she guided you back against the pillows. She drew the bedcovers up, smoothing them over you as she tucked you in.

“Rest now, my dear,” Lady Dimitrescu murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead. Her eyes lingered on your face, a flicker of something genuine – concern, perhaps – dancing in their golden depths. “I'll see you in the morning.”