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infamous-light · 6 days

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Hunted

Susie Lavoie x Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Hunted

Summary: You were the last survivor left and it was only a matter of time before Susie closed in on you.

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: Non-con/extreme dub-con, blood, cutting, asphyxiation, knifeplay with her ruler

You raced through the dense forest, rain pelting down on you like a barrage of icy needles as each droplet stung against your face, urging you to push harder, to run faster. The ground beneath you, once solid, had turned into a treacherous terrain of slippery mud and hidden roots, threatening to trip you with every desperate stride you made.

Your muscles screamed in protest with every movement, pleading for respite, but you couldn't afford to slow down. Not when every second counted, not when the darkness of the forest seemed to swallow you whole, the shadows closing in like the jaws of some unseen predator.

Above, the branches swayed wildly in the gusting wind, their gnarled fingers reaching out as if to snag you, to pull you back into the clutches of the deranged killer that now stalked you within these dark woods. Each rustle and whisper stirred your paranoia, fueling the adrenaline that coursed through your veins as you pushed yourself to the limit, driven by the primal instinct to survive.

Yet, amidst the chaos, you couldn't shake the haunting memory of what happened to the other three survivors, hearing their terrified screams echo through the trees as they were sacrificed, one by one, to The Entity. At the hands of Susie, no less. You had faced her before, in another trial, and the chilling realization that she was the one hunting you now sent a shiver down your spine.

This never got any easier. The trials only grew more harrowing, the horrors more unfathomable. Every breath was like fire in your lungs, every heartbeat a thunderous drumbeat pounding in your ears.

And then, amidst the cacophony of rain and wind, you heard it - a low hum, barely audible over the storm, but unmistakable in its significance.

The hatch.

It was your only way out.

Hope surged within you, a flickering flame in the darkness, driving you forward even as your muscles burned beyond their limit.

You sprinted toward it. Just as you were about to jump into the opening, a searing pain erupted across your back, slicing through the fabric of your jacket, and sending shockwaves of agony coursing throughout your body. You cried out, collapsing to the ground, the rain mixing with your blood as it pooled beneath you.

Desperation clawed at your chest as you crawled toward the hatch, your fingers scrabbling for purchase on the wet dirt. Just as your hand grazed the cold metal, a vice-like grip seized your right ankle and yanked you back with brutal force.

As you were dragged away from your only means of escape, your fingers dug futilely into the muddy ground, leaving streaks of red in your wake.

Her chilling laughter rang out, echoing through the forest like a haunting melody. With a gasp of pain, you managed to turn onto your side, your eyes lifting to finally see Susie towering over you.

“Aw, did you think you could escape that easily?” Susie's voice taunted above you, mocking your feeble attempt at freedom. “So close, yet so far.”

She stepped forward and pressed her shoe into your left shoulder, exerting just enough pressure to force you onto your back. She then stood over you, her feet on either side of your hips, twirling the sharpened ruler in her hand with a gentle flourish.

There was something unnerving about her appearance. Despite her youthful façade, she exuded an air of danger.

Her oversized teal hoodie was draped loosely over her slim frame, its dark fabric seemingly swallowing her petite form. From beneath the hood, strands of vibrant pink hair cascaded down, wet and matted in place. A short plaid skirt hugged her hips, stopping mid-thigh, while black stockings accentuated her long, slender legs.

But it was the eerie mask she wore that concealed her features, hiding any semblance of humanity.

“Please,” you begged, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate rush. “Don’t hurt me. I'll do anything, just please don’t hurt me.”

The rain continued to pour down, mingling with the fresh tears that blurred your vision. You knew deep down that your pleas may fall on deaf ears, that Susie was driven by something far more sinister than mercy. But still, you couldn’t help but cling to the flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, she'll show you some semblance of mercy. That she'll spare your life and allow you to escape this nightmare.

As you stared up at her, your eyes wide with fear, you pray silently to whatever gods may be listening, hoping against hope that your pleas will be heard. Susie bent at the waist, bringing the tip of her ruler to your right cheek, grazing it with a razor-sharp caress.

“Pathetic,” she sneered. “You think begging will save you? You think I'll let you escape?”

Terror gripped you as you realized the futility of your words.

With a cold, calculated precision, she lowered the tip of the ruler to the hollow of your throat, the wood biting into your skin. A shallow cut formed, blood welling up in its wake. You gasped, panic flooding your senses.

“Look at that,” Susie murmured, her voice laced with twisted fascination. “How beautifully you bleed.”

You swallowed hard, the fear in your throat nearly choking you as you struggled to comprehend the horror unfolding before you.

“I want to see more,” she continued, her voice rich with perverse excitement. “So much more.”

Susie abruptly dropped into your lap, her weight pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. Horror surged within you as she began to unzip your jacket, pushing aside the protective layers. Your heart hammered in your chest as she gripped the hem of your t-shirt and pulled it upward, exposing your vulnerable skin to the chilling rain.

“Stop,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with fear and desperation. “Please, stop.”

You tried to push her away, but her hands moved with frightening speed. She grabbed your wrists and pinned them beneath her knees with a strength that belied her small frame. Susie laughed, the sound grating against your ears like nails on a chalkboard as she watched you wriggle beneath her. With a cruel smile hidden behind the mask, she leaned in closer.

“You're mine now.” She whispered, her voice a mixture promise of pain and suffering.

With a sickening sense of dread, you felt the coarse touch of her ruler being traced along your abdomen. Every touch of her makeshift weapon felt like a brand against your skin, leaving behind an invisible trail of fear. Then, without warning, the pressure changed. The smooth glide of the ruler gave way to a sharp, slicing sensation as it dug into your flesh. Pain blossomed beneath its edge, hot and searing, as if each incision were tearing apart the very fabric of your being.

You bit down hard on your lip to stifle a scream. Your muscles tensed involuntarily, trying to pull away from the source of agony, but she held you firmly in place, her grip unyielding. Each cut was deliberate, methodical, as she carved an intricate pattern into your flesh.

As Susie continued to slice into you with her ruler, the initial shock was soon overshadowed by a disturbing observation. There was an unnerving rhythm to her movements, a deliberate pressure that seemed to intensify as she ground her hips down onto yours. At that moment, a sickening realization washed over you like a tidal wave of horror.

She was getting off to this.

“Fuck.” Susie moaned, her breath coming in ragged gasps as her hips moved faster. “Maybe I'll let you live after all.”

“Please,” you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please, let me live.”

“Shut up.” She growled, her voice a low, menacing rumble.

She tossed the ruler aside and moved her hand to clamp it over your mouth instead, silencing your pleas. Her fingers, cold and firm, pressed against your lips, cutting off your words as she leaned in closer.

With a sudden, unsettling motion, Susie reached up and removed her mask, revealing the face beneath. At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about her appearance. She looked like a regular young woman. Her features were eerily normal, almost innocuous, compared to the horrors she had inflicted upon you and the other survivors. But as her lips curled into a smirk, a familiar panic roiled in your veins.

It served as a haunting reminder that evil often wore the guise of the ordinary.

Your body jerked just then as her tongue – warm and wet against your skin – darted out, tracing the jagged lines of the wounds she inflicted across your stomach.

“Delicious,” Susie purred. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

With a chilling glint in her eyes, Susie's gaze drifted up the length of your body, lingering on your hardened nipples. Your breath froze in your throat as she moved closer, her lips parting in a predatory grin. Without warning, her mouth closed over one of your nipples, sucking and biting with a savage hunger that sent a burst of pain and arousal pulsating through you. Your back arched involuntarily, torn between the agony of her teeth sinking into your tender flesh and the intoxicating rush of pleasure that followed.

Each nip and tug of her teeth sent a jolt of electricity straight between your legs, igniting a firestorm of desire within you. You accidentally let out a moan, though the sound was muffled by her palm.

Susie's eyes lit up in delight as her mouth left your nipple, savoring every gasp and whimper that escaped your lips. Slowly, teasingly, she slipped her hand underneath her skirt and slid her panties to the side. The sight of her glistening folds exposed to the rain-drenched air had your mouth go dry.

Her fingers disappeared inside of herself and began to pump them back and forth. Her movements were deliberate, almost taunting, as she pleasured herself on top of you, the wet sounds mingling with the patter of raindrops.

Then, without hesitation, she reached out, her fingers wrapping around your throat with a steel grip. You gasped for air, feeling the pressure constricting your windpipe, cutting off your oxygen supply. The world blurred around the edges as darkness threatened to engulf you entirely. Susie's face loomed over yours, contorted into a sadistic grin as she reveled in your struggle.

“Enjoying yourself?” Susie mocked. “I know I am.”

As she continued to ride her own fingers, the pressure on your throat increased, her grip tightening like a noose around your neck. Every gasp of air became more desperate than the last. And then, with a guttural cry, she reached the peak of her pleasure, her body convulsing with release. You watched in helpless awe as she surrendered to her own desire, her movements erratic and wild.

For a moment, she seemed almost vulnerable, lost in the raw intensity of the moment. But as quickly as it had come, the vulnerability was gone, replaced once again by the sharp gaze of a predator.

Just then, her hand emerged from underneath her skirt and released her grip from your throat. The hand that was on your throat now curled around your jaw, forcing your mouth open. She shoved her fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste her essence.

“You like the taste of me, don’t you?” Susie jeered.

You gagged at the intrusion, the bitter taste of her skin mingling with the scent of her arousal. With a depraved laugh, she withdrew her fingers from your mouth, only to replace them with her own lips, pressing them forcefully against yours in a twisted mockery of a kiss. Her tongue invaded your mouth, exploring every crevice, leaving no room for resistance.

As she finally pulled back, a cruel smirk playing on her lips, you were left gasping for air. Your chest heaved with each breath, struggling to recover from the sudden onslaught.

“You know what?” she mused, an odd gleam in her eyes. “I’ll let you live after all.”

Before you could even process her words, Susie stood back up and lightly kicked one of your legs, jolting you out of your shock-induced stupor.

“Go on, before I change my mind.”

With trembling limbs, you struggled to push yourself upright, each motion feeling like an uphill battle against an invisible force. Every movement felt like wading through thick mud. Finally managing to stand, you straightened your disheveled clothes, your hands shaking all the while.

As you adjusted your shirt, you winced as the fabric brushed against the cuts on your stomach. Despite the burning pain, you cast one final glance over your shoulder. You saw Susie's sinister grin, a silent promise of the horrors yet to come.

“I'll be seeing you again soon.” She said.

With a shuddering breath, you gathered every ounce of strength left within you and plunged into the darkness of the hatch.

#susie lavoie x reader #susie lavoie #the legion x reader #dbd x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #susie lavoie x you #dbd

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infamous-light · 26 days

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HELLO RESIDENT EVIL 8 FANS !!

I MUST BRING UR ATTENTION TO THIS RESIDENT EVIL 8 MUSIC VIDEO THAT FEATURES LADY DIMITRESCU AND KARL HEISENBERG SINGING!!!!!!!!!!

AS WELL AS ANIMATIONS FOR ETHAN WITH FUN ANGLES HIDING HIS FACE!! SO CREATIVE!

also this funny karl and ethan cross fade that makes them look like star crossed lovers

please go check it out!

its really so catchy and fun!

#resident evil village #new animations I’ve never seen before

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infamous-light · 1 month

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Captured Part VI

Dark! Wandanat x Villain/Mutant! F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

AO3: Captured

Summary: You and your mutant friends have been in hiding due to the havoc you all wreaked over the past few years. One day, you all decided to make your presence known and rob one of the largest federal reserve banks in the U.S.

Unfortunately, things did not go as planned for you.

Word count: 2.4K

Warnings: Allusion to non-con (it's not explicit), mind manipulation, kidnapping

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows through the broken windows of an abandoned rowhouse, you slouched in an old armchair, its once plush fabric now tattered and worn. Your fingers idly traced the frayed edges as you listened to the murmurs of your friends surrounding you.

To your left, Caleb paced back and forth, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands standing on end with static. Wes leaned against the back wall, idly flipping a switchblade open and closed.

Aria sat cross-legged on the floor nearby, her fingers flying across the keys of her laptop, the screen casting a faint glow on her face. Ellie stood by one of the windows, peering out into the darkening neighborhood, her expression unreadable.

“We need a lot of cash, and we need it fast,” Caleb muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. “We've got debts to some dangerous people, and you know they're not the patient type.”

Wes nodded solemnly. “We could always hit up another drug stash.”

Ellie shook her head. “We've hit up every dealer in Baltimore already. We need something bigger. Something that can last us long term.”

“True. I guess we can't keep relying on small-time gigs.” Wes added, his brow furrowing in contemplation.

The air grew heavy with desperation as everyone racked their brains for a solution. And then, like a beacon of hope in the darkness, Caleb's suggestion cut through the silence.

“What about the Federal Reserve Bank in New York?” He said, his voice tinged with excitement.

Your heart skipped a beat as the weight of his proposal sank in. The Federal Reserve Bank. One of the most heavily guarded institutions in New York City.

Your eyebrows rose as you glanced at Caleb. “The Fed? Seriously?”

“Yeah, think about it,” Ellie chimed in. “All that money just sitting there, waiting for someone to take it.”

“Hold on just a moment,” Aria interjected. “The federal reserve doesn’t actually hold cash.”

A collective sigh rippled through the group, and Caleb threw his hands in the air in frustration.

“Well, there goes my idea.” He grumbled.

Aria held up a hand, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. “But it does hold something far better. Gold bars. Thousands of them.”

That revelation sparked a renewed fervor among everyone.

“We'd just need a solid plan,” you said cautiously, trying to sound practical despite the excitement building inside of you. “If we manage to pull this off, we have to leave the country as soon as possible. We'll need to lay low for a couple of years again. Is that a risk we're all willing to take?”

The weight of your words hung heavy in the stale air of the building. But the lure of the heist, the promise of freedom and wealth, overshadowed any doubts.

“What places are you thinking of?” Wes asked.

“Well, we could stay in Belarus or Slovakia for a start and then go from there.” You replied, giving him a half shrug.

Aria nodded thoughtfully; her expression serious as she considered the logistics. “Yeah, those countries could work. We'd need a safe house, somewhere off the grid.”

You leaned back into the armchair, its worn upholstery creaking beneath you, and gave your friends a grin.

“So, let's hear it then. How do you propose we pull off the heist of the century?”

***

You stirred from your slumber, feeling the gentle sway of someone shaking your shoulder. Slowly, you blinked your eyes open to see Wanda leaning over you with a smile. She was wearing a flowing sundress, the fabric rustling around her as she shifted on her feet.

“Wake up, darling.” Wanda whispered, her voice a soothing melody that pulled you from the depths of sleep.

Groggily, you stretched and yawned. As your senses came back to life, you realized you had dozed off on the couch, the television playing an ad in the background. Wanda leaned in a little closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheek.

“It's almost dinner time,” she said. “Are you hungry? Would you like us to fix you something to eat?”

You nodded mechanically, more out of habit than genuine hunger. Your gaze drifted past Wanda's shoulder to the clock on the wall. Its hands moved steadily, showing the time to be 4:50 PM.

With a small sigh, you realized how much of the day has already slipped by unnoticed.

“I think I'll go take a shower.” You murmured.

The words were heavy on your tongue as you pushed yourself up from the couch. Wanda nodded understandingly, her expression warm and patient as she gave you space to gather yourself.

“Of course, take your time.” Her gaze lingered on you for a moment before she straightened up.

Your eyes shifted across the living room, and you noticed that Natasha sat at a nearby table, engrossed in her laptop. The sight of Natasha on her laptop triggered a sharp pain in your skull, and suddenly, the image of Aria sitting in front of her own laptop in your dream came rushing back to you.

For a moment, you found yourself frozen in place.

You stood there, lost in the whirlwind of your thoughts. Natasha's gaze lifted from her laptop; her expression inscrutable as she met your eyes.

She broke the silence, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of restraint. “Do you need something?”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

“Uh-no, I'm just feeling pretty tired.” You replied, your voice slightly hoarse.

“Alright.” Natasha said plainly.

She returned her attention to the screen, seemingly unperturbed by the exchange.

Feeling Wanda's light touch on your left shoulder, you looked up to meet her gaze, only to find her giving you a strange look.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, her voice laced with genuine worry. “You seem... distant.”

You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it felt forced on your lips.

“I'm okay. I think I stood up too quickly.”

Wanda studied you for a moment longer, her expression unreadable, before nodding slowly.

“Alright,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. “Go take a shower. It might help you feel more awake.”

You offered her a grateful nod before leaving the room, the weight of uncertainty still heavy on your mind.

With each step toward the bedroom, the remnants of the dream clung stubbornly to your mind, like tendrils of fog refusing to dissipate. The hallway stretched out before you and you soon reached the center where it split into two. You found yourself at a crossroads, both figuratively and literally.

You glanced down the hallway to the right, where the dim light revealed a series of closed doors leading to other rooms. You didn't have the chance to wander down it last time. Your mind flickered with the idea of discovering more about your surroundings, searching for potential escape exits or hidden passages.

As you looked back toward the living room door, you caught the sound of Wanda and Natasha talking, their voices mingling as they discussed what you all should have for dinner.

No.

There wouldn’t be enough time to do what you needed to do. With a heavy sigh, you pushed aside the urge to snoop around and instead made your way to the bedroom.

As you entered, your eyes drifted toward the only window in the bedroom. Memories of examining the window in the storage room flickered briefly in your thoughts. You approached the window, your hand hovering over it. You placed your palm flat against the cool surface, feeling the smoothness of the glass beneath your touch. But as you did, a sense of disappointment built up within you.

It was made of the same tempered glass as the storage window. Despite the discouragement, you wouldn’t give up. You turned away from the windowsill and stepped into the bathroom, intent on taking a refreshing shower to help clear your mind.

***

You sat at the dinner table, your fork clinking against the plate as you absentmindedly pushed the food around. Wanda was to your right, her expression content as she delicately picked at her own meal. Natasha sat across from you, her gaze fixed on her plate.

Despite the palpable atmosphere, Wanda remained unfazed, engaging you in conversation as if everything was normal.

“Are you enjoying your meal, honey?” Wanda asked, her voice warm and inviting.

You glanced at Natasha, catching her eye for a moment before turning your attention back to Wanda.

“Yeah, it's great.” You said, attempting to sound cheerful.

Wanda's smile faltered for a brief moment, a hint of doubt flickering in her eyes before she smoothed it away with practiced ease. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, wishing for this tension between you and Natasha to end sooner rather than later.

As dinner came to an end, you started to stand, ready to help with the cleanup, but Wanda stopped you with a gentle touch on your arm. “There’s no need to worry about that. Why don't you pick out something for us to watch while we take care of this?”

You hesitated for a moment, but you nodded, grateful for Wanda's gesture to get you out of this situation.

“Sure.”

You headed to the living room, leaving Wanda and Natasha to clean up the remnants of dinner.

Once you entered the living room, you noticed that the couch lacked its usual array of cozy blankets. It seemed oddly bare without them. With a mental note to grab some from the nearby closet, you reached for the remote and scrolled through the options on one of the streaming services.

You paused, your finger hovering over the OK button as you debated between a classic comedy or a gripping thriller. Eventually, you settled on ALF, hoping its humor would help lighten the mood.

With the TV show playing in the background, you made your way over to the closet and opened the door. The hinges creaked as the door swung open, revealing a bunch of blankets and throws neatly folded on the shelves.

You reached in, your fingers grazing the soft fabric as you searched for just the right one to bring back to the couch. You selected a blanket large enough to cover you all, its warmth already promising to chase away the chill that seemed to permeate the room.

Closing the closet door, you sighed, ready to get the night over with. But just as you were about to turn around, the TV suddenly turned off, casting the room into unexpected darkness. Startled, you froze, the blankets slipping from your grasp.

Heart pounding, you slowly turned the rest of the way, your eyes widening as you caught sight of Natasha standing by the couch. You could see the faint outline of her features, illuminated by the glow of the hallway light filtering through the partially closed door.

“Natasha,” your voice trembled slightly, surprised by her sudden appearance. “Is everything okay?”

Natasha's piercing gaze was fixed on you, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and wounded pride. A cold chill swept through the room, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that whatever was happening was far from over.

Without a word, she advanced toward you. You took a step back, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“You think you can just deny me?” Natasha's voice cut through the silence like a knife, her tone dripping with venomous contempt.

Before you could respond, Natasha closed the distance between you two in an instant, her hand shooting out to grab your arm in a vice-like grip. The suddenness of it all caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but wince as a jolt of pain shot through your forearm. Her grip was like iron, the force of it leaving bruises to already bloom beneath her fingertips.

“Please, Natasha, stop! You’re hurting me!” You cried out, trying to wrench your arm free from her grasp.

Natasha's grip only tightened, her nails digging into your skin with cruel determination.

With a swift motion, she shoved you backward, sending you stumbling against the couch with a startled gasp. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you braced yourself for another attack. Instead, Natasha loomed over you, her expression twisted into a mask of rage and frustration.

“Why are you being so difficult?” Natasha demanded as she folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes pierced into yours with an intensity that made you squirm internally.

You wanted to resist her control, to break free from this terrible situation. But on the other hand, there was a nagging fear low in your gut, a fear of what she was capable of if you dared to defy her.

“I-I'm just nervous.” You forced out, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. Your palms felt clammy, and you resisted the urge to fidget under her scrutiny.

“I can tell.” Natasha retorted, her tone dry and devoid of sympathy.

“It’s just-I’m not used to doing this kind of thing.” You confessed, the admission leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Well, you'll get used to it.” Natasha said as she stepped closer. Her hand reached out, fingers tracing a path along your jawline. You shivered under her touch.

“You need to relax,” she murmured, her voice low and husky. “You'll enjoy it, I promise.”

A surge of nausea churned in your stomach, bile rising in your throat at the implication of her words. The thought of succumbing to Natasha's desires against your will filled you with a deep, primal dread.

Natasha’s movements were deliberate as she moved to straddle your hips, pinning your body against the couch. Every inch of your body screamed at you to fight back, to push her away, but you forced yourself to remain still. Her lips then curled into a predatory smirk, her eyes alight with desire.

Natasha leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “You can't stay nervous forever.” She whispered.

Her hands roamed your body with possessive urgency, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your skin crawled beneath her fingertips, and you fought the urge to recoil. Tears began to well up in your eyes as Natasha's lips brushed against your pulse point.

A wave of revulsion crashed over you, accompanied by a sickening sense of resignation. The line between desire and coercion blurred, leaving you trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #marvel #scarlet witch #natasha romanov #dark wanda x reader #dark natasha x reader #wandanat x reader #scarlet witch x reader

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infamous-light · 2 months

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Captured Part V

Dark! Wandanat x Villain/Mutant! F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4

AO3: Captured

Unfortunately, things did not go as planned for you.

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: Mind manipulation, kidnapping, suggestive themes

You found yourself sinking into the familiar embrace of the couch once more, the weight of the day settling heavily upon your shoulders. Tension coiled in your stomach like a tightly wound spring but the soft cushions beneath you cradled your body, offering some semblance of comfort in the midst of this turmoil.

The movie flickered on the screen, but its sound blended into the background as your mind was elsewhere, replaying snippets of the conversation you overheard between Natasha and Wanda a moment ago. You tried to focus on the movie, but every scene was a blur as your thoughts swirled with uncertainty and fear.

With a deep sigh, you closed your eyes, trying to push away the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm you. You desperately needed a moment of respite, so you decided to focus on regulating your breathing, attempting to calm your nerves. Each inhalation brought a fleeting sense of peace, while each exhale released a fraction of the pent-up tension.

But just as you began to ease your anxiety, the abrupt shuffle of footsteps outside the living room door shattered the fragile bubble of solitude you had constructed. Your ears perked up at the faintest hint of movement, a skill honed through years of evading capture and navigating the shadows. Like a seasoned fugitive, your eyes snapped open with a primal instinct, instantly alert to the slightest threat or opportunity that presented itself.

With practiced ease, you arranged your features into a calm façade, smoothing out any trace of the inner conflict that twisted within.

As Natasha and Wanda entered the living room, their chatter broke through the heavy silence that had enveloped you. Wanda’s gaze landed on you, her eyes alight with a playful twinkle as she greeted you with a light-hearted comment, “Did we miss anything important? Or were we just in time for the best part?”

Natasha chuckled, shaking her head. “Knowing our luck, we probably did.”

You forced a smile, trying to push aside the unease that gnawed at your insides. “No, you're just in time.”

You were sandwiched between Natasha and Wanda a moment later, their presence enveloping you in a stifling heat that made your skin prickle with discomfort.

Natasha leaned against your left side, her familiar scent of jasmine and sandalwood filling your senses. Her arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as she rested her head on your shoulder.

On your right, Wanda snuggled up against you, her touch sending a tingle down your back. Her fingers intertwined with yours, creating an intimate connection that should stir something within you, but it didn’t.

Every instinct in your body screamed at you to escape their proximity, to flee from the looming threat they posed. But you remained frozen, unable to tear yourself away from them.

Every moment felt like an eternity as you wrestled with the urgent need to plan your escape. The longer you stayed here, the more likely they were to notice something was amiss with you. You knew you had to act fast, to devise a plan that would allow you to slip away unnoticed. Every movement had to be calculated, every word carefully chosen to maintain the façade of normalcy.

You surveyed the living room with a veneer of collectedness, your eyes darting discreetly from one corner to another, cataloging every detail. Despite the pressing nature of the situation, you maintained an air of calculated control, aware that any sign of agitation could betray your intentions to Natasha and Wanda.

The lack of a window only heightened your sense of desperation. The stale air seemed to press down on you, suffocating any hope of escape.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed as the movie reached the end credits. Natasha and Wanda shifted on the couch, their movements slow and relaxed as they tried to find a more comfortable position. Wanda spoke up, breaking the silence that had settled over the living room.

“Well, that was a fun movie,” she said, her eyes sparkling with delight as she turned to you and Natasha. “Don't you think?”

You hummed in agreement, giving Wanda a small smile.

Natasha’s gaze flickered toward you, her eyes searching yours for a moment before she reached out to squeeze your left thigh.

“You look tired, honey,” she said quietly. “I think we should go to bed.”

To be honest, you did feel tired. Your eyelids drooped with weariness and every muscle in your body ached with fatigue. You knew that in order to execute your escape plan successfully, you needed to be well-rested and sharp.

“Yeah, I am actually.” You admitted with a faint smile.

As you stood up, Natasha's slender fingers intertwined with yours. The softness of her skin against yours was smooth and warm as she led you toward the bedroom. The gentle pressure against your right arm startled you momentarily and you glanced sideways to see that Wanda's arm had looped with yours.

Wanda smiled at you. Slowly, she leaned in, her delicate scent filling your senses before her lips planted a kiss on your cheek. A flutter of conflicting emotions erupted within you like a storm brewing beneath calm waters. On the one hand, her affection was comforting but on the other hand, it felt inherently wrong.

Each kiss, each embrace, only served as a painful reminder of the truth you were desperately trying to uncover.

For now, you returned Wanda's affection while silently plotting your escape.

***

As you slowly awakened, you found yourself nestled between Natasha and Wanda.

Natasha's arm was currently draped over your waist protectively, her hair spilling across the pillow in a cascade of red locks. Beside you, Wanda lay peacefully asleep. Her face was buried in the crook of your neck, her soft hair tickling your skin with every exhale.

The rhythmic sound of their breathing reached your ears, a soothing lullaby that almost put you back to sleep. But the gentle stirrings of wakefulness nudged you into action, reminding you of what needed to be done.

To escape.

There wasn’t a moment to slip out of bed unnoticed as both Natasha and Wanda stirred almost simultaneously, their eyelids fluttering open in sync. Natasha's gaze met yours first, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes as she stretched her lithe frame.

“Good morning.” She murmured, her voice husky with sleep as her hand reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face.

On the other side, Wanda’s eyelids continued to blink away the remnants of sleep. Her expression softened into a gentle smile as she became fully aware of her surroundings.

Wanda reached out instinctively, her hand finding yours. “Morning, love.”

“Good morning.” You said in a low tone as you began to rise from the bed, but Natasha's hands gripped your shoulders, pushing you back down onto the mattress.

You let out a surprised gasp. Her lips curled into a sly grin as she leaned in, her breath warm against your ear.

“Where do you think you're going?” Natasha purred.

She straddled you in one swift move, allowing her weight to settle onto your hips. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the curve of her breasts, the soft swell inviting your gaze. The thin tank top she wore did very little to conceal their ample size as they strained against the fabric, begging to be set free. Even the faint outline of her nipples teased through the material, a tantalizing hint of the hardened peaks that awaited beneath.

As Natasha leaned in closer, her body pressing against yours, your eyes drifted downward, drawn to the sight of her tiny shorts. The material clung to her hips, riding up to reveal the smooth expanse of her thighs with every movement.

Natasha's gaze was intense, her eyes burning with a primal hunger as she now caged you in, her lips hovering just an inch away from yours.

And then, in a heartbeat, her lips closed the distance. The taste of her lips, sweet and inviting, ignited a fire within you that threatened to consume all rational thought. Her tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth with a hunger that matched your own.

But even in the midst of passion, a small voice whispered in the back of your mind, urging you to stop this.

“Natasha-” You attempted to interject between kisses, but she was lost in the heat of the moment, her desire fueling her actions.

Her breath mingled with yours, hot and needy, as she pressed her body against your front, her curves fitting perfectly against your own. You turned your face to the right to break the kiss, but Natasha followed, her lips trailing a path of fiery kisses along your jawline. Your hands reached up to push Natasha's shoulders, attempting to create some distance between you two.

As you struggled to maintain your composure, you heard a soft chuckle from your right side. Glancing over, you saw Wanda resting on one of her elbows, amusement shining behind her eyes as she observed you and Natasha.

She clearly wasn’t going to help you.

“Natasha, please, I need to use the bathroom.” You whined, desperation lacing your voice.

It was the only thing you could think of to pry yourself away from her relentless advances.

Natasha’s gaze darkened with a mix of desire and frustration, but she acquiesced, albeit reluctantly. You could sense her impatience, her hunger for more.

“Alright.” She muttered; her voice was laced with a hint of disappointment as she allowed you to slip out from underneath her grasp.

You picked up some clothes from the dresser and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. The soft click of the latch echoed in the small space as you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

You stood before the bathroom sink, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on your shoulders like a heavy burden. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached out to turn on the faucet, the sound of rushing water filling the silence of the bathroom.

As the cool water cascaded into your cupped hands, you couldn’t help but notice how your fingers quivered with nervous energy. You splashed the water onto your face, hoping to calm the racing thoughts and the pounding of your heart but the anxiety gnawed at you relentlessly, refusing to be quelled by a mere splash of water.

The memory of their conversation kept echoing in your mind. They want to fake your death, have you vanished into obscurity.

With trembling hands, you reached for a towel to dry off, the fabric rough against your sensitive skin. You took a moment to compose yourself before getting dressed, slipping into fresh clothes.

Exiting the bathroom, your steps faltered as you were met with the sight of Natasha and Wanda, both clad in various stages of undress. Natasha's curves were accentuated by a lacy black ensemble, while Wanda's slender frame was adorned in sheer red lace that left little to the imagination.

“I'll meet you both in the kitchen.” You managed to choke out, your voice strained with discomfort.

Their gazes locked onto you, Wanda's dark with desire, her eyes smoldering with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Natasha, on the other hand, frowned, a hint of frustration flickering across her features as she watched you.

“We promise we won’t take too long.” Wanda purred, giving you a playful wink.

Heat spread up your neck as you gave her an awkward smile, feeling the weight of Wanda's amused gaze on you. Natasha's reaction was palpable as she shot you a cold glare before following Wanda into the bathroom.

That wasn’t good. You were on Natasha's bad side, and it wasn't a place you wanted to be. All that did was add an extra layer of difficulty to an already precarious situation.

There was no time to waste. You released a long breath, feeling a surge of determination coursing through you.

The past two nights were consumed by Natasha's and Wanda’s presence, leaving little opportunity for you to explore. Now, with them distracted, it was the best possible time for you to start scoping this place out.

Your eyes drifted to the bedroom window, a potential escape route, but you knew better than to rush blindly. Not with them so close to you.

Opening the door, you stepped past the threshold, the cool air of the hallway a stark contrast to the warmth of the bedroom. Goosebumps prickled your skin, and you took a moment to adjust to the change in temperature.

As you ventured further down the hallway, you noticed that it split into two distinct paths. Both hallways stretched out before you, identical in appearance.

After a moment of consideration, you decided to walk down the left hallway first.

With cautious steps, you navigated the dimly lit hallway, your senses on high alert. The walls were devoid of windows, casting the space in shadow, but there was an eerie sense of orderliness to the surroundings. Nothing appeared out of place, no signs of decay or neglect marring the pristine halls.

As you continued onward, the silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of your own footsteps echoing off the walls.

You checked each door along the way, hoping to find an exit or a clue to aid your escape. Each door yielded to your touch without resistance, swinging open to reveal unassuming rooms with no signs of life.

A sinking feeling settled low in the pit of your stomach. There were no windows, no alternate exits – just a series of closed doors that led to a dead end.

Finally, you reached the end of the hallway, your search yielding no answers, no means of escape. You stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door before you, a sense of resignation washing over you. With a heavy sigh, you reached out and grasped the handle, your fingers trembling slightly with apprehension. Every fiber of your being prepared for yet another dead end.

With a slow, deliberate motion, you turned the handle. The door swung open with ease, revealing a storage room.

Entering the room, you're greeted by a clutter of boxes strewn across the floor, each one bursting at the seams with documents and files. Despite the chaotic scene before you, your attention was immediately drawn to the window on the far side of the storage room.

A surge of hope flooded through you at the sight of the window. Closing the door behind you with a soft click, you made your way toward the large aperture.

Reaching the window, you paused, taking a moment to survey the landscape beyond.

You were greeted by the sight of a dense forest stretching out as far as the eye could see. Towering trees loomed overhead, their branches swaying gently in the early morning breeze. The forest floor was carpeted with a thick layer of underbrush, a mosaic of greens and browns interspersed with patches of sunlight filtering through the canopy above.

Birds chirped and flitted among the branches, their songs echoing through the stillness of the forest. In the distance, you could hear the faint rush of a nearby stream, its waters weaving through the heart of the forest like a silver ribbon.

You reached out and touched the pane of the window. A frown creased your brow as you realized the glass was thick, tempered for durability. There was no mechanism to open the window either.

Running your fingers along the smooth surface, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread creeping in. You had hoped for a moment of relief, a simple solution to your predicament, but now you realize that breaking through won't be as straightforward as you had initially thought.

It would take a great deal of force and stress to shatter it, far more than you could muster with just your strength alone or with the aid of a tool.

Glancing down at the cuffs that encircled your wrists, you felt a pang of resentment toward the device that nullified your powers. The metallic cuffs seemed to mock you, their cold, unyielding grip a constant reminder of your limitations. But then you remembered Natasha’s and Wanda's warnings. They had spoken of the dangers, of the instability that lurked within your abilities. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

You knew you were fully capable of obliterating the tempered glass with ease, if not for these restraints.

You withdrew your hand from the window, turning away from the tantalizing glimpse of freedom beyond. Despite the obstacles that stood in your way, you knew that giving up was not an option. You were determined to find a way out of this predicament, to reclaim your agency and uncover the truth.

Your thoughts spiraled further until the familiar sound of Natasha's and Wanda's laughter sounded down the hallway, jolting you back to reality.

Alarm surged through you. Without hesitation, you exited the storage room, pulling the door closed behind you with a muted thud. As you hurried back down the hallway, your heart raced in your chest, their laughter growing louder with each passing second.

Reaching the kitchen, you took a moment to catch your breath, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You then darted toward the cupboard, your hand reaching out to grab an empty cup.

You turned on your heel and swung open the refrigerator door, the soft hum of the appliance filling the air. Your fingers closed around the chilled bottle of orange juice, pulling it from its resting place.

Pouring the amber liquid into the cup, you watched as it cascaded down in a steady stream. Lifting the cup to your lips, you took a long, slow sip, relishing the citrus flavor that slid down your throat.

Glancing around with a casual air, you needed to give the impression that you had been waiting here all along.

It was at that moment both women entered the kitchen. Natasha and Wanda stood before you, fully dressed and radiant in the morning light.

As Natasha's eyes landed on you – her smile strained – a flicker of irritation flashed in her eyes. Despite her best efforts to mask her disappointment, the tension between you two hung thick in the air, a silent reminder of the rejection you had dealt her.

“Would you like some breakfast?” Natasha’s tone was polite but tinged with an undercurrent of annoyance as she sauntered past you.

“Yes, please.” You replied, keeping your tone neutral.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to slow it down.

With practiced efficiency, Natasha moved around the kitchen, the clatter of utensils against pots and pans filling the space.

Wanda observed the scene with a small smirk on her face. She seemed unfazed, her eyes flickering between you and Natasha with mild interest.

“I wouldn’t worry about Nat. She’ll get over it.” Wanda teased as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

Natasha scoffed.

You decided not to say anything to that. It’s best to keep quiet for now.

Eventually, you all settled around the kitchen table, the smooth wooden surface adorned with a colorful array of dishes.

You continued to play your part, biding your time until the opportunity presented itself to make your move.

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infamous-light · 2 months

Text

You Ruin Me

Faith Seed x Gender Neutral Reader/Deputy

AO3: You Ruin Me

Summary: As you flee for your life through the forests of Montana, relentlessly pursued by a group of Peggies, a sudden accident halts your desperate escape.

Fear grips your heart as you brace for capture, but instead, it's Faith who finds you first.

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Dub-con, emotional manipulation

As you dashed through the dense forest of Montana, the towering pine trees seemed to close in around you.

Branches reached out like grasping fingers, threatening to snag your clothing and slow your escape from the Peggies. Sweat beaded on your brow, mixing with the earthy scent of damp soil and the sweet perfume of wildflowers as you pushed deeper into the heart of the wilderness.

Your heart hammered in your chest, its erratic rhythm reverberating in your ears, drowning out the sounds of your own frantic footsteps. Each thud seemed to synchronize with the adrenaline coursing through your veins, urging you to push harder, run faster.

The cold night air enveloped you like a shroud, its icy tendrils seeping into your bones. As you inhaled, fear and desperation mingled on your tongue, their bitter taste intensifying the chill that gnawed at your insides.

The distant shouts of Peggies echoed around you, drawing closer to your location. Desperation clawed at your senses, imploring you to put even more distance between yourself and the looming threat behind you.

With your firearm cradled in your grip, its weight was oddly comforting amidst the chaos. The familiar metal frame against your palms served as a grounding force, a tangible reminder of your training.

"Running won’t save you.” Faith’s voice, tinged with a hint of mockery, broke through the air, sending a shiver down your spine.

You quickened your pace. Each breath came in ragged gasps, your chest heaving with effort and your muscles burned with the strain of exertion. But still, you pushed forward, driven by the primal instinct to survive.

Faith's voice, a haunting melody that seemed to linger in the air, followed you through the dense canopy of trees, its echoes twisting and distorting with each passing moment. You couldn't escape her, couldn't shake the feeling of her eyes boring into your very being, even though you weren't able to see her in the darkness.

No matter how far you wander, you cannot escape her grasp.

Just then, the sole of your shoe got caught on an unseen root, causing you to lurch forward with a startled gasp. The ground, seemingly solid just moments ago, crumbled away beneath your weight, and before you could react, you found yourself tumbling over the edge of a small, steep cliff.

The world spun around you in a dizzying whirlwind of motion as you plummeted downward, the air rushing past your ears.

There was a sharp jolt to your body as you careened into one of the protruding rocks. The impact tore at your flesh, leaving behind a trail of spattered blood that marred the surface of the stone. Each collision left its mark until finally, with a final thud, your body came to a stop on even ground, battered and bruised.

For a moment, everything was a blur of agony and disorientation. Your senses reeled as you struggled to regain your bearings. The acrid metallic tang of blood clung stubbornly to your parched tongue as you cautiously attempted to move your jaw. With a trembling effort to push yourself upright, a sharp, searing pang of pain ripped through your body like a jagged lightning bolt, sending shockwaves of anguish through every nerve and sinew.

The situation couldn't have possibly gotten worse until you heard the distant sound of footsteps approaching near the top of the cliff. Just as it seemed the Peggies were about to reach you, they abruptly changed course, their footsteps fading into the distance as they moved away, leaving you momentarily relieved yet still on edge.

You lay there, feeling the warm blood seep from the gash on the side of your right thigh. It wasn't a fatal wound, thankfully, but it was enough to slow you down. You knew you'd need to tend to it soon before an infection could set in. But for now, all you could do was lay there.

The world around you appeared hazy and detached. Through the swirling fog, a figure emerged, moving toward you with deliberate steps.

Your muscles tensed as you recognized the approaching silhouette – it was her. With each step, her light brown hair swayed gently in the cool breeze. As she knelt beside you, her features showed a mixture of compassion and reproach.

"You poor thing," Faith cooed. “You struggle so valiantly against the Father’s plan, and for what? To play at being a hero?” Her hand caressed the side of your face, a gesture both tender and chastising.

“Come with me and I’ll show you the path.” She said, her voice a seductive whisper promising salvation through submission. But you knew better than to trust her words, to fall under her spell.

“N-No, I won’t join you.” You stammered, your voice wavering but resolute.

Faith's expression softened into one of pity as she gazed down at you. “Oh, deputy. You lash out at things you don’t understand.”

You gave her a choked, humorless laugh, the bitterness evident in the hollow sound that escaped your throat. "I understand more than you think.”

Faith's gaze lingered on you, her eyes scanning every contour of your face with an intensity that seemed to penetrate deep into your soul. At that moment, under the weight of her scrutiny, you felt exposed. It was an unsettling sensation, as if the very essence of your being had been laid bare before her.

“I can see the loneliness in your eyes,” Faith murmured, her thumb brushing against your bruised cheekbone. "But you don't have to be alone anymore. Let me be the one to remind you how it feels to have someone by your side, to share your joys and your sorrows with."

You stiffened in response, feeling the conflict rise within you like a storm brewing on the horizon. Faith’s presence, her warmth, beckoned to something deep inside of you, a longing for connection and solace. Yet, simultaneously, the instinct to protect yourself kicked in, urging you to retreat behind the fortified walls you had constructed over time.

Though, all of that crumbled away in an instant, disintegrating like sand slipping through fingers, the moment Faith's lips, warm and inviting, pressed against your own, soft yet possessive.

Her fingers traced a delicate pattern along your skin, awakening every nerve ending with a fervent hunger. The sensation of her touch was electrifying, setting your senses ablaze with a raw, primal need that demanded to be sated. Lost in the heat of the moment, you surrendered to her completely, allowing yourself to be consumed by the irresistible pull of her embrace.

Faith's hand, with its light touch, explored the contours of your chest through your uniform shirt, admiring the lines of your muscles beneath the fabric. Her fingertips then danced along the buttons of your shirt before they dared to venture lower, teasing the edge of your belt buckle.

With practiced ease, Faith's fingers deftly worked at the clasp of your belt. As the leather strap loosened, your breath caught in your throat, anticipation building with every passing moment.

Faith pulled back from the kiss, her lips parting from yours with a soft, lingering reluctance. As she gazed down at you, her eyes dark with desire, a faint smile played upon her lips.

"You're even more beautiful like this." Faith breathed, her voice a husky whisper.

In a slow, deliberate motion, Faith slipped her right hand underneath the band of your underwear, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You let out a small moan as her fingers found their mark, teasing and tantalizing with each stroke. She applied just the right amount of pressure, her movements calculated to drive you wild.

"I've been where you are, deputy," Faith began, her voice low but filled with conviction. "I know what it's like to carry the weight of loneliness for so long that it feels like it’s a part of you. But here, with us, you'll find solace. You'll find a family who understands your pain.”

Tears welled up in the corner of your eyes, glistening under the moonlight.

"I know you've suffered silently, believing that no one could possibly understand," Faith continued, her gaze unwavering as she held yours, her hand stroking you faster between your thighs. "But you don't have to carry that burden alone anymore. And the Father,” Faith’s voice changed, taking on a reverent tone as she spoke of him. “He understands your suffering better than anyone. He has a gift, a way of connecting with those who have suffered and who have felt lost in this world. He can guide you through your pain and lead you to a place of peace and belonging.”

You were fighting for Hope County, for its people, for its future. But her words… they chipped away at your conviction. Was it all worth it in the end?

Your vision blurred as the tears finally streamed down your face. The salty taste on your lips only amplified the ache in your chest and you found yourself unable to contain the flood of anguish pouring from your eyes.

A soft 'aw' escaped her lips at the sight of you. Faith reached out, her left thumb wiping away the tears that stained your cheeks. “We’re here now and we want to help you shoulder it. Together, we can face whatever challenges come our way. Never lose Faith."

The tension between you and Faith reached its peak as her touch intensified, her hand moving with purpose between your thighs.

A guttural moan escaped your lips as you tumbled over the edge, your body on fire with pleasure. Your essence spilled onto Faith's hand, warm and sticky, and every touch, every kiss from her sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through you.

For a moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a state of blissful abandon.

***

As the first light of dawn filtered through the trees, you stirred from your uneasy slumber. Blinking against the brightness, you slowly sat up onto your elbows, wincing as the pain in your limbs intensified with each small movement.

Then, as your senses fully returned, you felt something amiss – a strange looseness around your waist. Glancing down, your heart skipped a beat as you noticed your belt buckle was undone, the leather strap hanging loosely by your side. Confusion gave way to a rising sense of realization as you recalled the events of the previous night.

And then you felt it – the telltale stickiness in your pants. A flush of heat spread across your cheeks as the memory flooded back – the intense intimacy shared with Faith, her touch igniting a passion you had long denied.

Despite the ache in your body, a different kind of ache now pulsed between your legs – a craving for more of Faith's touch, for the closeness and connection she had offered, even if it came at the cost of your pride.

#faith seed x reader #faith seed #far cry 5 #far cry 5 fanfiction #faith seed x deputy #far cry 5 x reader #faith seed x you #far cry 5 fandom

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infamous-light · 3 months

Note

Captured was fucking wonderful. Cant wait for p5!

Thank you so much! I'm not quite sure where the story will head but I'm having a lot of fun with it.

#anon answered #captured fanfic #marvel

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infamous-light · 3 months

Text

Captured Part IV

Dark! Wandanat x Villain/Mutant! F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

AO3: Captured

Unfortunately, things did not go as planned for you.

Word count: 2.3K

Warnings: Mind manipulation, kidnapping

The soft rays of the first morning light, like a delicate brushstroke, filtered through the curtains, creating a mesmerizing dance of shadows on the walls. The bedroom seemed to come alive with subtle warmth as if the sun itself was gently caressing the entire space. As you gradually opened your eyes, the bedroom came into focus, and the events of the past day lingered in the air like a dream, though their details were veiled behind some sort of invisible haze.

The beginnings of a headache had crept in as you tried to piece together the fragments of your recent memory. It was as if a fog had settled over your thoughts and each attempt to recall any details brought forth a dull throb across your temples.

As you continued to awaken, the ambient sounds from outside the bedroom window seeped into your awareness – the distant chirping of birds, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the liquid melody of a nearby stream. The bright colors of the bedroom took on a dreamlike quality, with the pastel hues of the walls and furnishings appearing more vibrant.

Once you sat up in bed, the door creaked open, and Wanda entered with a warm smile on her face.

“Good morning. I hope you had a restful night." Her voice was pleasant but there was a subtle undertone of amusement that went unnoticed by you.

Your response was hesitant, your mind still grappling with the fog of confusion. "Good morning." You managed to mumble.

Wanda moved across the bedroom and sat down next to you on the bed.

"Such a sleepyhead," she teased, playfully tousling your hair. "Come on, rise and shine. There’s breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen, and I thought you might want to join us. Natasha’s currently setting the table.”

You blinked a few times, attempting to shake off the remnants of sleep. “Uh, yeah. I’ll join you two in a few minutes.”

“Ok, but don’t take too long. Breakfast won’t wait for you forever.” With that, she leaned in and planted a sweet, unexpected kiss on your right cheek.

The tenderness of it left you momentarily breathless as a cascade of emotions played out within you – surprise and a hint of vulnerability. Wanda’s lips curled into a smirk as she observed your reaction. Her fingers trailed over your cheek for a moment before she pulled away. She left the bedroom and closed the door on her way out. Only the subtle scent of her perfume lingered behind.

You snapped out of the daze you were in and swung your legs over the side of the bed, making your way to the bathroom. Once inside, the mirror revealed a face still marked by sleep. As you gazed at your reflection, something uneasy overcame you, a mysterious force shrouding the edges of your consciousness.

With a hesitant hand, you reached for the faucet, allowing a stream of cool water to spiral into the sink below. Your eyes met their own reflection once more, seeking answers to the discomfort that had settled low in your gut. You splashed water on your face, but it did little to dispel the nagging feeling that scraped against your mind like talons.

After finishing your morning routine and with your undergarments in place, you selected a plain navy blue shirt from a neatly organized wardrobe. Its soft fabric embraced your skin as you slipped it on. Next, you opted for a pair of comfortable grey sweatpants that you had stumbled upon while rifling through the drawers. Its snug fit provided the perfect balance between casual and relaxed.

Heading toward the kitchen, the savory aroma of sizzling bacon wafted through the air, its enticing fragrance mingling with the rich, buttery scent of eggs. It made your stomach growl in anticipation. Upon entering, your eyebrows rose at the spread before you.

On the porcelain plates, golden-brown pancakes were stacked high while each layer was adorned with a pat of melting butter. The edges of the pancakes boasted a perfect crispness while the centers promised a fluffy tenderness. Nestled beside the pancakes were eggs cooked to perfection – sunny-side up, their yolks like liquid sunshine ready to burst forth at the slightest prod. The bacon was also expertly prepared. Each strip exuded a smoky aroma that mixed well with the rest of the food. Completing the breakfast set, there was a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice placed in the middle of the table.

Wanda motioned for you to take a seat. "Come on. Sit with us.”

"I hope you like your eggs sunny side up." Natasha said, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Grateful for the unexpected treat, you gave them a small smile as you sat down at the table. "This looks amazing. Thank you."

As you took your first bite, the eggs melted in your mouth, and the burst of flavors from the seasoning complemented the dish perfectly. You couldn't help but express your delight.

"This is incredible.”

Natasha smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”

After finishing a fulfilling breakfast, Wanda and Natasha exchanged glances with each other, seemingly satisfied that you had eaten everything on your plate.

Wanda, with a cheerful demeanor, suggested, “How about we all watch a movie together?”

Your lips curved into a genuine expression of joy and you nodded in excitement.

“Wonderful.” Wanda remarked.

The rest of the day settled into a subdued ambiance as the three of you found yourselves in the living room, nestled together on the plush couch that was littered with an assortment of cushions and throws.

Wanda sat on one end of the couch, leaning against the armrest while Natasha sat to your left, leaving you in the middle of the couch.

As the plot of the movie thickened, Natasha edged closer to you. Her movements were smooth and unassuming, yet the warmth emanating from her presence was palpable. In a tender moment, she playfully nudged your arm, silently expressing a desire for a closer connection.

You turned your head to face Natasha, meeting her eyes with a questioning look. Without a word, she scooted even closer and draped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her side. The comfort of her body drew you in and your head instinctively nestled in the crook of her neck, a position that felt surprisingly natural despite the unfamiliarity of the situation. Her fingers threaded through your hair and in that moment, time seemed to slow down.

Wanda noticed and couldn’t help but smile. Seizing the moment, she shifted closer, joining the cuddle session. Her touch added an extra layer of warmth.

Just as the movie reached a suspenseful climax, the room was interrupted by the sudden ringtone of Natasha's phone. The sound caused you to jump, your attention torn away from the TV screen. Natasha frowned, reaching for the phone in her jeans pocket. Its bright screen cast a brief glow against her features.

Without uttering a word, Natasha exchanged a knowing look with Wanda that left you puzzled. Natasha sighed and turned her gaze toward you.

"Stay here," Natasha said, her tone carrying both reassurance and a sense of urgency. "We'll be right back."

Wanda disentangled herself from you but not before giving your hand a quick, comforting squeeze and rose to her feet. They left the living room, leaving you alone on the couch. As Wanda and Natasha ventured down the hallway, their voices became muffled whispers.

With the movie still playing in the background, you made a valiant attempt to focus on the plot unfolding on the screen. However, your attention wavered, and an insatiable curiosity about the secretive phone call tugged at your thoughts. Unable to resist any longer, you kicked the many blankets off yourself and got up.

You made your way to the door, your hand grasping the cold metal handle. The hinges let out a faint creak as you eased it open. Silently, you stepped past the threshold, carefully closing the door behind you to avoid any unnecessary noise.

The soft carpet beneath your feet absorbed the slightest of sounds, turning each step into a near-silent dance across the floor. The hushed voices became more distinct as you approached the source. The sound seemed to originate from a room at the end of the hall, drawing you closer with each carefully placed step. Straining your ears, you could have sworn that your name was being said.

As you reached the partially open door, you peeked past the doorframe, catching a glimpse of Natasha engaged in a seemingly intense phone call. Natasha, her brow furrowed in concentration, held the phone to her ear while gesturing emphatically with her free hand. Wanda, on the other hand, leaned against a table, her keen eyes focused on a distant point in the room.

“I know, Steve!” Natasha’s tone was sharp, cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. “As for now, Wanda and I have her under control. She’s not an immediate threat to anyone. Once we find out where the rest of her friends are, we’ll send her over to you, alright?”

You stand frozen in disbelief as Natasha's words rang in your ears, her voice slicing right through you like an icy blade. The revelation sent shivers down your spine, and a knot tightened in the pit of your stomach. You searched for some sign that this was all some twisted joke, but Natasha's unwavering gaze and the gravity in her words crushed any hope of that.

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. Just then, a wave of disorientation hit you like a two-ton truck. Your immediate surroundings, once stable, seemed to warp around the edges. It was as if reality itself was playing tricks on your mind.

Wanda's face materialized right before you. A cruel smirk aimed directly at you.

Swirling magnetic red emanated from her eyes. The intensity of her gaze pierced through the very fabric of your being.

Then, in the shadowy backdrop, a black mass shifted behind Wanda.

Natasha now stood above you, her presence casting a chilling shadow. Her gaze was cold, devoid of any warmth as she stared down at you.

“You’ll never break me!”

A voice rang out. It sounded familiar but you struggled to place it.

“We’ll see.”

The response was murmured. Calculated.

The hallway around you seemed to spin as you were brought back to the present. The abrupt transition had you struggling to regain your bearings and you clung to the nearby wall for support. The relentless surge of pain that radiated from your skull intensified with each passing moment and you clamped a trembling hand over your mouth, desperate to stifle the pained groan threatening to escape.

You didn’t want to alert Natasha and Wanda of your presence, uncertain about how they would react to you eavesdropping on their conversation.

A frustrated huff sounded from the room and your attention snapped back to the two women once more. Natasha placed the phone back in her pocket as she began to pace back and forth.

“I should’ve known Steve was going to find out sooner than later.” Natasha muttered, her voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and concern.

“I’m guessing someone at HQ snitched on us.” Wanda said with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, and he’s pretty adamant about having her confined under their supervision. His reasoning is that he wants to expedite her trial.” Natasha explained, her irritation palpable as she paused in the middle of the room.

“We can’t let that happen.”Wanda asserted as she took a step closer to the assassin.

“I know.”

Wanda's brow furrowed as she stood there, deep in thought, the gears of her mind turning with a cunning intensity. A few seconds had passed before Wanda's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief as a devious idea took shape in her head.

“I have an idea,” she said. "Let’s fake her death.”

Natasha, intrigued, arched a curious eyebrow at her. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

Your eyes widened at her words and apprehension began to churn in your gut. The air felt charged with an unsettling energy.

"How about we arrange for her to be transported in one of those high-security prisoner trucks. During the transfer, we stage a crash – nothing too crazy, just enough to make it look fatal. We'll have emergency services and the media involved, creating a narrative that she died in the accident." Wanda continued, her mind already working out the intricate details. "We can use the chaos and confusion to discreetly move her to where we want, away from prying eyes.”

Natasha sighed as she folded her arms across her chest. “They’re not going to buy that. S.H.I.E.L.D is too skeptical and you can bet they'll dig deep into the details.” The room fell into a thoughtful silence, broken only by the rhythmic tapping of her fingers against her bicep.

“Then what should we do?” Wanda asked.

"What if we let her escape?" Natasha suggested, her gaze narrowing with intent. “You could use your powers to create an illusion, make it look like she died by your hand.”

"That's risky." Wanda said in a measured tone. "But it's doable."

“Good. We can discuss the details later.” Natasha concluded. “We should get back to her and see how she’s doing.”

A sense of uneasiness lodged itself in the pit of your stomach as you moved away from the door. The hallway seemed like it was closing in on you. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe.

Natasha and Wanda weren’t what they seemed. It became evident that their sweet demeanor was a mask, concealing intentions and motives that were far from benevolent.

A decision loomed – you needed to get out of here.

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infamous-light · 3 months

Text

Captured Part III

Dark! Wandanat x Villain/Mutant! F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2

AO3: Captured

Unfortunately, things did not go as planned for you.

Word count: 2.8K

Warnings: Non-con, oral, strap-on, face sitting, fingering, dom/sub, mind manipulation

The bedroom seemed to cocoon itself in a soft, dim glow as the minutes ticked by. The air, once thick with tension, now held a reassuring warmth that cradled your senses.

The atmosphere became a sanctuary of stillness, charged with an otherworldly energy that began to weave a sense of calmness.

Natasha, lying next to you, broke the silence with a pleased hum as her hand snaked around your clothed waist. Wanda's fingers continued to thread through your hair and the initial unease you felt from Wanda’s touch earlier was now a soothing balm to your senses.

The confined space became comforting, offering a sense of intimacy and closeness. The shadows that clung to the corners of the room now seemed like protective guardians, casting a soft, assuasive embrace around the three of you.

The once-intense gaze in Wanda’s eyes softened and her touch became a genuine source of relaxation.

"You're ours now." Wanda whispered. The murmur of something darker now felt like a distant echo, replaced by a profound sense of peace.

Wanda leaned in with deliberate slowness. The room fell silent, as if the shadows themselves held their breath in anticipation. Her lips, soft and full, were pressed against your own.

The kiss carried an unexpected electricity, a blend of desire that left you both nervous and wanting. As the kiss deepened, Natasha's presence loomed over you, a silent accomplice in this twisted dance of manipulation. Her eyes, now gleaming with a predatory hunger, seemed to devour the vulnerability that Wanda had expertly coaxed from you.

Wanda's powers continued to weave a tapestry of control, amplifying the intensity of the kiss. It was a paradoxical experience — each touch, each caress, held a seductive allure that fueled the flames of desire, yet beneath it all lay the undeniable truth that you were but a pawn in a game orchestrated by both women.

A siren blared in your mind. It was a warning, an instinctive realization that the pleasure derived from this unholy union was merely a façade concealing a much darker agenda. However, an outside force pushed those thoughts aside.

Natasha’s hand slipped underneath your black shirt, relishing the warmth of your skin. Her fingers danced across your skin, tracing patterns on your abdomen before moving lower. Wanda joined in, their hands working in unison, exploring every inch of your body as you lay there, completely vulnerable and trusting in their care.

"Let's get you out of these clothes." Natasha whispered close to your ear.

She guided you with a gentle touch, helping to pull your shirt over your head and setting it aside. The air in the room felt cool against your exposed skin as she took a moment to study the contours of your form. Her hands, callused yet purposeful, moved toward your chest. She cupped each breast, her touch unhurried and light. She gave them a few firm squeezes until the peaks of your nipples hardened under her touch. As her fingers reached your nipples, she pinched them between her thumb and forefinger, holding them for a few seconds before releasing them. You let out a hiss of pain which was swallowed by Wanda’s mouth currently on your own.

Wanda broke away from the kiss just then and moved down to position herself between your legs. Her lips began to trail a languid path down your abdomen. Each kiss was a tender exploration, a map of affection that unfolded with deliberate care. Her fingers, now a whisper against your skin, skirted along the edges of your waistband.

Her fingers dipped underneath the material and began to ease your pajama pants off. As the fabric slid down your legs, Wanda’s gaze met yours and the corner of her mouth twitched into an amusing grin. She tossed the rest of your clothing onto the floor and moved forward to spread your legs further apart.

Her expression became hungrier as her eyes wandered over your glistening core.

“Is this all for us?” Wanda husked.

The question lingered in the air. Wanda's gaze held a certain secret that you weren’t privy to, carrying a weight of implication that left you questioning the nature of this encounter. A flicker of confusion crossed your face. How had you found yourself here again?

“Come back to me, love.” Wanda’s voice cut through your muddled thoughts.

Goosebumps rose across your skin when Natasha’s hand snaked up your throat, but it didn’t stop there as you thought it would. Her hand rested against your jaw instead. The pad of her thumb rubbed light circles over your pulse point.

“Relax.” Natasha breathed near your ear.

A sudden gasp escaped your lips as Wanda’s tongue licked a slow path up your slit. There wasn’t a moment to regain your bearings as her skilled tongue created different patterns, teasing and tempting with a mastery that she only possessed. Every firm, insistent stroke of Wanda’s tongue elicited a tremor that shook your entire body. Natasha, with a knowing smile, continued to watch with hunger in her eyes, fully immersed in the shared pleasure.

A sudden, intense desire coursed through you, and you found yourself yearning for more.

“Please, Wanda. I need more.” You whined. “I need your fingers in me.”

Wanda, responding to your plea, withdrew her tongue with a sultry smile. “Of course, darling.”

Her fingers, now covered with a scarlet glow, traced a steady path through your wet folds, inching closer to the source of your longing. As two of Wanda’s fingers entered you, stars shot behind your eyes as it wasn’t just a simple touch, no, it was her magical energy amplifying every sensation.

While her fingers pumped in and out of you in rhythm, Natasha leaned in, her lips delicate and demanding, and began to kiss along the column of your throat. All the while, her hands moved toward your chest to squeeze and fondle your breasts again. The contrast between Wanda's dexterous fingers and Natasha's sensual kisses sent waves of pleasure through your entire being. Wanda’s touch was a perfect blend of magic and physicality, creating a sensation that's both surreal and deeply arousing.

Wanda's eyes flickered up to meet yours, a mix of concentration and lust reflected in their depths. She knew you were close.

Natasha’s voice sliced through the air like a whisper of temptation. “That’s it. Come for us.”

In a breathless moment, the culmination approached. Wanda, attuned to your every response, orchestrated a final, exquisite movement with her fingers that pushed you over the edge. The pleasure crashed over you and the bedroom seemed to spin with the intensity of your climax.

Your body slumped in exhaustion as your breaths came in short pants. Wanda withdrew and a satisfied smile played on her lips. Both she and Natasha lingered for a moment, savoring the aftermath of your blissed-out state.

The atmosphere in the bedroom shifted as Wanda and Natasha exchanged a knowing glance with each other.

Wanda turned to you and reached out with her right hand to brush away a few strands of your hair that were stuck to your forehead. She smiled sweetly down at you. “You’ve been such a good girl but now it’s your turn to please us.”

With an air of anticipation, the two women climbed off the bed and stood before you. They began to undress each other, their movements slow and sensual. The bedroom was filled with the sound of rustling fabric as each layer was shed, revealing their curves that had long been concealed. Garments fell to the floor like petals, leaving them nude before your very eyes.

Natasha stepped forward and left a trail of tantalizing kisses along Wanda's exposed skin, savoring the taste of her. Wanda's scarlet-tipped fingers teased along Natasha's skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Natasha responded with a low moan, her hands exploring Wanda's back with urgency. The air became thick with the heady scent of arousal.

They eventually pulled away from each other and focused their attention back on you.

Wanda, with a sensuous sway of her hips, made her way over to the nearby bedside table. There was a sly twinkle in her eyes as she opened the drawer with purpose. Your eyes widened in shock as she retrieved a strap-on with a red dildo already attached to the harness. The silicone toy was long and thick.

Wanda paused for a moment and a thoughtful gaze crossed her features. Her head tilted to the side, and a small, enigmatic smile started to spread across her face as she stared at the toy. Natasha, ever perceptive, noticed the slight change in Wanda’s demeanor.

“What’s on your mind?” Natasha asked.

Wanda looked at Natasha, the playful glint in her eyes dancing with mischief. "Just thinking about trying something a little different." She replied.

Natasha's smirk deepened as she caught onto Wanda's unspoken intentions. "Different can be very, very good.”

Wanda turned to face you, holding the strap-on in her hand. “I’m going to have you wear this.”

“Oh?” Your voice cracked from how dry your throat became.

Wanda approached you, the strap-on swaying gently in her hand as she leaned over you.

"Put it on," she whispered, her breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Let me ride you and Natasha can enjoy herself on your face."

A mix of excitement and curiosity soared within you at Wanda's words. The air thickened with anticipation again as you hesitated for a moment, glancing at the strap-on in Wanda's hand. Eagerness to explore this uncharted territory took over and you reached out to take the harness from her hand.

As you secured the harness around your hips, Wanda guided you with an experienced touch, ensuring a snug fit. Once she was satisfied with the secure placement of the strap-on, she positioned herself above you.

“Let’s make this night an unforgettable one.” Wanda said, her voice taking on a darker, more seductive tone.

Natasha, reclining next to you with a grin, watched on with desire. "I think you'll enjoy the view from down there.” She remarked, her words dripping with sultry suggestion.

Wanda, now in control, knelt between your thighs, the strap-on now an extension of your body. The dildo jutted out from your legs like a sore thumb. It looked quite big on you.

Once ready, Wanda leaned down and gripped the base, bringing it closer to her.

“How about we get this cock nice and wet for me first, hm?”

Without breaking eye contact, Wanda guided the tip of the dildo to her mouth. A devilish smile appeared on her lips as she ran her tongue along the sculpted surface. The tip now glistened with her saliva, and you watched transfixed as she made sure to lick from the head to the base and back up again. Nothing prepared you for what happened next as Wanda wrapped her lips around the head, taking it in her mouth slowly. Her lips formed a perfect O around the thick shaft. The bedroom held its breath as Wanda took the dildo inch by inch into her mouth, allowing it to invade her throat.

The sight of the large dildo disappearing between Wanda’s lips sent a pleasant tingling sensation across your body. The visual spectacle, coupled with the wet, explicit sounds of her sucking and gagging on the toy, heightened your own arousal.

“Fuck, baby. That’s so hot.” Natasha groaned. “I’m really jealous of you right now.” She admitted as her gaze shifted from Wanda to yours.

Wanda, still bobbing her head up and down, glanced up at you both with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. She began to slow her pace and gave a low hum with the dildo still stuffed in her mouth. Some of her drool slipped past her lips and it ran down the length of the toy, gathering at the base.

Finally, she pulled her mouth away and a glistening sheen coated the entire dildo.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Wanda asked you as her fingers brushed against your dripping core. You inhaled sharply at the contact. You didn’t realize how wet you had gotten from just watching Wanda suck you off as if you really had a cock. “It looks like you did.” She chuckled at the evidence now covering her fingers. “I think we’re ready for the real fun to begin.”

The air is charged with a renewed energy as Wanda straddled your hips. Without hesitation, Wanda guided the toy to her entrance before easing it inside of herself. A soft moan escaped her lips as she adjusted to the feeling of being filled up.

As Wanda slowly began to ride you, Natasha moved to position herself over your face. The scent of her arousal drew you in as she lowered herself, pressing her soaked cunt against your mouth. Her fingers entwined in your hair, holding your head in place.

“You better make me come.” Natasha demanded in a low voice.

The stickiness of her arousal is immediately apparent as your tongue made contact with her wet folds. Your hands find their place on her hips, offering support as she settled into a position that was comfortable for her.

Your tongue began to explore what all Natasha had to offer, making sure to trace slow circles around her clit. Soft, teasing licks soon give way to more firm strokes as you delve deeper. Natasha's breath quickened as you found a rhythm that resonated with her desires.

The moans and gasps from both Wanda and Natasha created a harmonious melody of passion.

Wanda's movements became a mesmerizing dance, her hips swaying in perfect sync with the ebb and flow of pleasure. Wanda's breath grew heavier with each motion, the tempo building as she lost herself. The silicone dildo glided effortlessly in and out of her cunt as she bounced in your lap.

As Wanda continued to ride you, Natasha leaned toward Wanda, the front of their bodies pressed together. Their lips met in a passionate kiss, tongues intertwining for just a moment. Wanda’s moans escalated throughout the bedroom as soon as her lips separated from Natasha’s.

Amid the heated exchange, a surge of something primal overcame you. A particularly powerful and hard thrust from your hips caused Wanda to jolt forward with a small gasp. The inner walls of her core clenched around the hard length inside of her and her body trembled as pleasure rippled through her.

“Oh, bad girl. I didn’t say you could do that.” Wanda growled but there was little threat behind her words as you drilled into her at a relentless pace. Despite the semblance of a reprimand, there was an undeniable thrill in her tone.

Natasha let out a breathless chuckle at Wanda’s reaction.

That was soon forgotten as Natasha's fingers clutched the bed sheets in a tight grip. Her breath was caught in her throat as your lips wrapped around her clit, giving it a harsh suck. That was enough for her orgasm to rush through her, and she gasped, a raw expression of ecstasy on her face.

Wanda’s body arched back just then, shaking like a leaf as she came hard around your fake cock. You watched, captivated, as Wanda succumbed to her own climax. A long, shuddering sigh left her as she slowed down her movements before coming to a stop in your lap.

The bedroom regained a sense of tranquility as the three of you basked in the aftermath of shared pleasure. Only a minute or two had passed before both Natasha and Wanda removed themselves from you and moved to settle on each side of you.

"You have quite the talented little tongue." Natasha remarked, a small smirk on her lips.

“I bet she does. Though, it seems like someone is feeling a bit bold tonight,” Wanda purred. “Maybe I should punish you for getting ahead of yourself.” Wanda's fingers traced a slow path along the shaft of the toy, her gaze locking onto yours with a mix of challenge and satisfaction. "I think someone needs a lesson in restraint."

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m not sure what came over me.” You confessed, looking away anxiously.

Wanda chuckled as her thumb traced a soothing circle on your skin. “I know,” the warmth of her touch eased any lingering tension in your muscles. “I’m only teasing you. No harm done."

“I’d say we had our fill tonight.” Natasha chimed in.

Wanda hummed in response.

Natasha, with her eyes closed and a serene smile on her face, snuggled against you. The softness of her auburn hair tickled your cheek as she found the perfect spot to rest her head against your shoulder. Wanda joined you in the cocoon of warmth as well. Wanda's touch was tender and reassuring as she wrapped her arms around you, creating a sense of security.

However, as the moments passed, a minor shift occurred.

As their fingers rubbed idle patterns on your skin, doubt manifested itself as a subtle tremor in your heart. Something felt… off. You glanced at their faces, searching for any hints, any clues that might betray the authenticity of the moment. Yet, you didn’t find any.

You can't shake the nagging feeling that the emotions swirling within you are not entirely your own.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff #mavel #scarlet witch #natasha romanov #dark wanda x reader #dark natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader

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infamous-light · 5 months

Text

Happiness Has Two Hands

Alcina Dimitrescu x Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Happiness Has Two Hands

Word Count: 1.9K

Summary: While reorganizing the library, an unexpected secret of yours slipped out. Lady Dimitrescu's daughters couldn't resist the temptation to exploit this newfound knowledge.

The library, an expansive realm of knowledge and discovery, stood silent, interrupted only by the gentle rustle of pages from the book Daniela immersed herself in and the occasional crackle of the fireplace where Cassandra reclined. The scent of leather and aged parchment filled the air as you were engrossed in the meticulous task of reorganizing several books. With a careful hand, you retrieved each book, ensuring it found its rightful place among its literary companions.

As you focused on the titles and subjects of the books, Bela moved past you, her footsteps echoing softly against the carpet.

Bela, having walked past you, found herself near a shelf adorned with dusty volumes, her fingers delicately trailing the worn spines. The low light from the antique chandeliers caught the subtle glimmer in her eyes as she ran her hands over the weathered covers. She occasionally plucked a book from the shelf, inspecting it with a thoughtful gaze before returning it to its place.

Cassandra, on the other hand, lounged on a sumptuous chaise near the grand fireplace. The gentle crackling of the burning logs created a lullaby, coaxing her into a peaceful nap. Her chest rose and fell in a slow, rhythmic pattern, and the warmth from the fire cast a soft glow on her features. The occasional flutter of a page turning nearby added a serene ambiance to the room.

Daniela was nestled in a cozy alcove with a particularly intriguing book in her hand. Her eyes were alight with wonder as she devoured the words on the pages. However, in her typical fashion, her attention wavered, and without warning, she closed the book with a resounding thud.

She sprang to her feet and abandoned the book on the velvet-cushioned chair. She began to wander the aisles, drawing closer to your location. Her eyes flickered over the shelves until her attention was ensnared by another book. She reached up, her fingertips tracing the detailed illustrations that adorned the cover.

As Daniela stood on her tiptoes to reach for the book, her sudden imbalance knocked over the nearby pile of books you were reorganizing. You instinctively lunged forward, your hands darting out to catch them mid-fall. Daniela, still regaining her balance, reached out to steady herself. In the process, her fingers brushed against your side in a fleeting moment of unintended contact.

The giggle that ensued broke the library's silence, drawing the attention of Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. Their eyes met across the room, sharing a moment of shared amusement at the unexpected turn of events.

“Are you ticklish?” Daniela asked slyly as she turned to face you.

“N-No,” you stammered, a subtle nervousness betraying your attempt at composure. “You just caught me off guard. That’s all.”

“Caught off guard, you say?” Bela quipped, a teasing glint in her eyes as she made her way toward you. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”

Cassandra, intrigued, decided to contribute to the lighthearted banter. "Well, well," she chimed in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It seems we've uncovered a secret that you neglected to share with us. How rude.” She feigned a pout in your direction.

“Indeed, a most unbecoming secret to keep from us.” Bela tsked, her voice carrying a tone of mock disapproval.

"Quite dreadful, isn't it?" Daniela remarked with a raise of her perfectly arched eyebrow. "Our dear servant hiding such interesting secrets from us,” she continued, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the coffee table nearby. Daniela leaned forward, her eyes shining in amusement. “What other surprises do you have to hide, I wonder?" She tilted her head in mock curiosity. Her grin suggested that the discovery of your ticklish nature had sparked a newfound interest in unraveling more of your delightful secrets.

"Well, now that we know the secret, what should we do about it?" Cassandra mused, her smile growing wider.

"I believe a closer examination is in order." Bela added with a smirk.

With a shared sense of purpose, they closed the distance, their laughter resonating throughout the library. Leading the charge was Daniela, intent to catch you in her clutches. Her fingers wiggled in the air, eyes gleaming bright with excitement.

"Let's see if our diligent servant can withstand the ticklish scrutiny." Daniela declared.

“Don’t you dare.” You warned, your voice laced with a nervous edge as you backed away from them. However, the twinkle in your eye betrayed the fact that, deep down, you were ready to embrace the impending ticklish onslaught.

“Aw, come now, little one. We only want to have some fun.” Bela crooned as she approached you with measured steps, her gaze fixed on you.

Cassandra, quick on her feet, circled from the other side, her fingers poised like a dancer's pirouette. “We won’t torture you much.” She emphasized the last word with a sickeningly sweet grin.

Pausing, you took a hesitant step back. Bela, ever watchful, noticed your uncertainty, and her lips quirked upward into a knowing smile. "You can try to run but you won't get very far."

Taking your chances, you spun on your heel and sprinted, intent on making a swift exit through the library’s main door. Unfortunately, your escape attempt was short-lived. Within a few steps, a pair of hands grabbed each of your arms and pulled you back with surprising strength. The momentum sent you tumbling onto a nearby chaise lounge.

In a matter of seconds, all three girls had you pinned down. Daniela had a firm grip on your ankles, rendering any escape attempts futile. Bela straddled your hips and hovered over you with an air of amused superiority. Meanwhile, Cassandra, positioned above you, had your wrists pinned on either side of your head, leaving you effectively trapped.

As you lay on the chaise lounge, their laughter filling the air, Bela leaned in, her smug smirk widening. "I told you that you wouldn't make it far."

Bela had her fingers poised above your sides. "Shall we see how ticklish they truly are?" She teased; her fingertips were tantalizingly close to your ribs.

Panicking, you began to plead. "Anything but the tickling, please!”

Cassandra, still holding your wrists, interjected, "Begging already? We haven't even started yet."

With a swift and coordinated effort, they began their ticklish onslaught. Bela's fingers glided over your sides, provoking fits of laughter, while Daniela's touch on your ankles intensified the sensory assault. Cassandra, maintaining her hold on your wrists, watched on with a twisted sense of glee.

Bela’s fingers skittered over your sides before deciding to venture into a more ticklish area.

Wearing a sly grin, she directed her attention to your underarms. Her nimble fingers launched a tickling expedition that elicited a new surge of laughter from you.

At the same time, Cassandra seized the opportunity to explore your forearms with devious delight. Her fingers traced intricate patterns along the sensitive skin.

“Please, stop! It tickles!” You cried out in hysterics, laughter bubbling uncontrollably as their fingers continued their merciless assault.

“That’s the point.” Cassandra chuckled, observing your disheveled state.

Amid the ticklish chaos orchestrated by her sisters, Daniela decided to add her own unique touch to the playful assault. She crouched down and removed your shoes, exposing your vulnerable feet to the impending tickle onslaught. As Daniela's fingers descended over the soles of your bare feet, a new wave of laughter erupted from you.

“No, please! No!” You gasped between fits of laughter, the strain on your stomach becoming more pronounced as the tickling persisted.

“Aw, are you out of breath?” Daniela mocked with a teasing lilt. “Poor thing.”

Amidst the laughter, you couldn't help but wriggle in a feeble attempt to evade the relentless tickling. The girls, however, were quick to adapt to your movements, maintaining their grasp and intensifying the ticklish sensations.

"Trying to squirm away, are we?" Cassandra mocked as her fingers trailed up your forearms.

In an abrupt and unexpected move, Bela’s fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt and made contact with the sensitive skin of your lower back. You gasped at the sudden sensation, a burst of laughter escaping your lips. Her fingers traced along the curves of your lower back, and you attempted to shake her off, but your efforts were met with amusement from Bela. Chuckling softly, she reveled in the sight of you squirming under her touch, the dance of your movements adding an extra layer of joy to the impromptu tickle fest.

Taking note of your reactions, Daniela abandoned your feet and shifted her attention to the area under your knees. Her fingers slid up your calves, coming to a deliberate pause at the bend of your knees.

“Wait, no, not the knees!”

But it's too late. Daniela's fingers teased along the delicate skin under your knees, unleashing a cascade of ticklish shivers through your body. Tears streamed down your cheeks as the sensation overwhelmed you.

“You're absolutely adorable like this,” Daniela said, her words accompanied by a wide grin. “Breathless and squirming uncontrollably, it suits you.”

“They do look cute like this.” Bela commented. Her fingers, light as a feather, traced unpredictable patterns along your ribs. The action elicited a sharp yelp from you.

As the tickle torture continued, the doors of the library swung open, drawing the attention of everyone. Lady Dimitrescu stepped inside and came to a halt as her gaze fell upon you all. She arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“What is happening here?” She asked, her tone laced with genuine curiosity.

Lady Dimitrescu’s heels clicked throughout the library as she approached the scene with measured poise. The corner of her lips quirked ever so slightly as she gazed down at you. You lay there amid the scattered books, breathless, with your cheeks flushed from the exertion of laughter.

“They dared to withhold a secret from us, Mother. It turns out they’re very ticklish.” Daniela said with a playful glint in her eyes.

“Oh?” Lady Dimitrescu tilted her head to the side.

Acting on a sudden mischievous whim, Daniela extended her finger and poked the sole of your foot. You squeaked at the unexpected touch.

“Please, my Lady! Help me!” You pleaded, the desperation in your voice reaching a high note.

A low, melodic chuckle rumbled from Lady Dimitrescu. She regarded you with an amused yet contemplative expression. To the surprise of everyone, she reached down and allowed the tips of her fingers to graze the side of your ribs. The gentle touch prompted an immediate eruption of giggles from you.

“No! Please!”

Lady Dimitrescu chuckled. “I never realized you had a ticklish side, my dear. Though, I must admit, finding this out has been rather entertaining.”

“You’re evil.” You playfully accused while catching your breath.

“I know.” She said with a self-assured smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come on, girls. Release them. I believe you’ve tortured them enough.”

With that, they reluctantly relinquished their grip, freeing you from the clutches of their ticklish assault. They all gave you a grin as they left, each one giving you a lingering promise to continue the encounter. As they sauntered out of the room, their laughter lingered like a melodic echo, fading away.

A gentle touch on your shoulder interrupted your trance, drawing you back to the present moment.

“I believe it’s my turn to indulge in a bit of playful torment.” Lady Dimitrescu announced with a smirk.

As her words hung in the air, a blush crept up your cheeks and you couldn’t help but gulp at the prospect of being under her mercy.

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil fanfic #lady dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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infamous-light · 8 months

Text

Just Believe

Mother Miranda x Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Just Believe

Summary: Mother Miranda's perceptive gaze didn't miss the doubt that lingered like a shadow within the recesses of your mind during one of her sermons.

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Dub-con kissing

The village center bustled with activity, yet a heaviness weighed on your heart. Doubts had been gnawing at your thoughts recently like a persistent itch that couldn’t be scratched. The rituals, the chants, the unwavering devotion of your fellow villagers – they have always been the cornerstones of your existence.

As you stood inside the church, watching the villagers pile in, a nagging question formed in your mind:

Was this truly the path you wanted to follow?

Amid your contemplation, a graceful presence swept into the church, interrupting your thoughts. The soft rustling of fabric announced Mother Miranda’s approach, her tall figure casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the nave and the pews.

Mother Miranda stood before the grand pulpit in her black robes, the fabric draped around her form, almost as if it had been molded to fit her. A stole of intricately woven silver patterns fell over her shoulders, catching the light in a way that seemed to make it shimmer like liquid moonlight. A large halo rested behind her head, adorned with intricate patterns and a single eye sat atop it, gazing down like an all-knowing sentinel. But it was the golden mask that caught your eye. It resembled a bird's face, its features delicately sculpted with precision and care, a creation that transformed her visage into a work of art. Her presence commanded attention, an embodiment of both authority and charisma.

Everything went silent.

The service began as Mother Miranda preached about the Black God. With a voice that resonated like a mellifluous melody, the words she spoke flowed like a river of wisdom and devotion. She spoke of unity, of purpose, of the divine path that guided their lives.

Her words carried a weight that struck deep within each heart present, invoking a sense of connection to something greater than themselves. The villagers hung on her every word; their faith cemented by Mother Miranda’s conviction.

Though her words were convincing, a flicker of uncertainty remained. As Mother Miranda’s sermon wove its narrative, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story, more to the Black God than what met the eye. Your doubts continued to linger like a whisper of truth to be heard amidst the fervor of devotion.

While Mother Miranda’s discourse pressed on, your gaze wandered over the faces of the villagers seated around you, finally coming to rest upon her masked visage once more. At that moment, her eyes met yours. It was as if an invisible thread drew your eyes to her and in that instant, the world around you blurred, leaving only her figure in sharp focus. Your heartbeat quickened and then stilled as if time itself had momentarily ceased to flow.

There was an intensity in her gaze, an unwavering focus that sent a shiver down your spine. Those ice-blue eyes of hers locked onto your conflicted expression and it was as if she could see straight through the façade you had constructed.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the moment passed. The world came rushing back, the ambient sounds regained their volume and you found yourself once again amidst the congregation.

As Mother Miranda’s sermon reached its crescendo, you couldn’t shake the feeling that her gaze had been more than just a passing glance. You were left to grapple with the realization that Mother Miranda’s attention had fixated on you, specifically. It was as though her gaze had pierced through the sea of villagers and found you, unveiling a secret you hadn't shared with anyone.

A look that seemed to say she knew.

The villagers around you began to stir, their movements synchronized as they prepared to depart the church, their faces carrying expressions of renewed faith. Just as the last of the villagers started to file out the arched entrance, your peripheral vision caught a glimpse of movement. It was her – Mother Miranda.

“You there. Stay.”

Her words echoed throughout the church, carrying an air of authority that seemed to command even the very air to halt.

Her robes billowed with a quiet elegance as she moved forward, each step deliberate and measured. The sense of isolation was palpable as she approached, the space around you narrowed to encompass only her and you.

She stopped a few paces away, her eyes fixed on yours.

“Mother Miranda,” you croaked out. Your voice betrayed the nervousness that had settled into your bones. Your throat was parched, her name emerging as if pulled from the depths of a desert. “How may I help you?”

A slow, knowing smile appeared on the lips of Mother Miranda as you uttered your question. The curve of her mouth held both a hint of amusement and a glint of something darker. Her eyes, like twin abysses, seemed to pierce through the layers of your uncertainty, exposing the vulnerable core that doubt had etched within you.

"How may you help me?" she echoed, her voice a melodic blend of honeyed persuasion and underlying malice. "My dear child, there is nothing you can do to help me.” She continued, her eyes never leaving yours. “I sensed something in your gaze during the sermon. A flicker of uncertainty perhaps?”

Her words hung in the air; a challenge masked in the form of a question. The weight of your doubts and uncertainties pressed down on you but the fear of Mother Miranda’s potential wrath loomed even larger. The thought of admitting your faltering belief to her seemed like stepping onto a precipice, one that could lead to consequences you could not predict.

“Of course not, Mother Miranda,” your voice emerged, carefully measured, an attempt to steady the unease that churned within you. “The sermon was powerful, as always. Your words have a way of reaffirming our devotion.”

Her expression remained inscrutable, a mask that betrayed nothing of the thoughts that roiled beneath.

“Is that so?” she replied, her tone a delicate balance between skepticism and amusement. “You’re quite bold to lie to me.”

She took a step closer. The walls of the church, once familiar and comforting, now seemed to close in around you, backing you into a corner. Your back pressed against the cool, ancient stones, a sensation that mirrored the chill that had crept into your heart.

And then, she was before you, a towering figure that seemed to eclipse even the shadows that clung to the corners of the church. Her presence was both overwhelming and suffocating, like the weight of a thousand watchful eyes upon you. As Mother Miranda looked down upon you, a predator assessing its prey, the true magnitude of her power became palpable.

You were a pawn on her chessboard, an unwitting player in a game that transcended mortal understanding.

“I apologize, Mother Miranda,” you managed to stutter out, your voice trembling with the weight of admission. “I was afraid of telling you the truth.”

Her response was immediate. The tip of a gold-clawed index finger rested on your lips, a gesture that was both intimate and intrusive. “Be quiet.” Her command was like a spell, woven with an authority that demanded unquestioning obedience.

Your voice had been stilled; your agency was stripped away by her insidious influence.

“Doubt is a natural progression on the path of devotion. It is through questioning that one finds deeper understanding.” Mother Miranda intoned. The candlelight danced upon her features, casting fleeting shadows that seemed to morph her visage into something both ethereal and foreboding. “You see, doubt can be a catalyst for growth, an opportunity to forge an even stronger connection to the Black God. It is in these moments of uncertainty that true loyalty is tested, and true devotion solidified.”

A subtle pause lingered in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications. Her gaze held you captive, the weight of her words settling like a shroud upon your shoulders. “I have been watching you, my child, seen the doubts that have taken root within your heart. But fear not, for I am here to guide you. To help you navigate the labyrinth of your belief and emerge stronger, more resolute.”

Her words, like tendrils of a seductive incantation, seemed to wrap around you, weaving a narrative that blended the allure of answers with the undertones of obedience. “In time, you shall come to understand that your doubts are part of a greater plan, a plan that will lead you closer to me. Closer to the truth that the Black God offers.”

She extended a slender hand, the fingers adorned with intricate golden ridges that gleamed in the flickering light. “Walk with me, my dear, and I will show you.”

As her fingers brushed against the side of your cheek, a shiver coursed throughout your body. The temptation of her words mingled with the chilling realization of her intent — to draw you into her orbit, to keep you within her watchful gaze. And at that moment, you were faced with a choice, one that could either lead you deeper into her enigmatic embrace or push you to break free from her manipulative grasp.

But was it much of a choice?

At that moment, you made the only logical decision available in such circumstances — a decision driven by the primal instinct to safeguard your own existence.

“Yes, Mother Miranda. I will walk with you.” You said, your voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and submission.

“Excellent.” She purred, the word rolling from her lips like a velvety whisper. The glow in her eyes intensified, the radiance within them seeming to burn brighter.

As the air crackled with tension, her fingers slipped behind her mask and with a subtle movement, she removed the ornate golden bird mask that concealed her features and set it aside. The mask's removal revealed a visage both mysterious and striking, framed by an intricate cascade of platinum blonde hair. Her lips, soft and inviting, curved into a smirk. In the soft candlelight, her porcelain skin seemed to glow, emphasizing the ethereal beauty that she possessed.

Her eyes, those pools of captivating blue, bore into yours with an intensity that mirrored the weight of your shared moment. Her right hand moved toward the nape of your neck, her fingers curling in a slow, deliberate motion as they intertwined with your hair. With a harsh tug, she guided your head backward, causing the breath in your throat to expel.

“You will be a good little follower for me, won’t you?” Mother Miranda’s voice, soft as a caress, brushed against your lips like a beguiling promise.

Her mouth, now dangerously close, hovered in the space between you.

In that instant, you made a decision that seemed to reverberate through the very air. A step that might lead you to a revelation or a chasm of secrets that you couldn't yet fathom.

“Yes, Mother Miranda.” You breathed out, your voice laced with nervousness.

With a sense of anticipation hanging in the air, Mother Miranda leaned in, her breath mingling with yours. The world seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in time and space. Her lips brushed against yours, a delicate touch that sent delightful shivers down your spine.

Every sensation was heightened—the warmth of her skin against yours, the sweetness of her lips, the tender exchange of breath. In that intimate embrace, the doubts and uncertainties seemed to melt away, leaving only the raw authenticity of the moment.

Mother Miranda smiled against your lips, a tender curve that held a hint of triumph as if she had achieved a pivotal victory in this unspoken exchange.

#mother miranda #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda re8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil fanfic

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infamous-light · 9 months

Text

Captured Part II

Dark! Wandanat x Villain/Mutant! F! Reader

Ch. 1

AO3: Captured

Unfortunately, things did not go as planned for you.

Word count: 2.4K

Warnings: Mind manipulation, kidnapping

As you slowly regained consciousness, a dull throbbing in your head accompanied your awakening. Your surroundings were unfamiliar – dimly lit and strangely sterile. Blinking away the haziness, you tried to move but found yourself restrained by what seemed to be sturdy metal clamps, strapping your wrists and ankles to an examination table.

As you grappled with your bindings, a peculiar sensation caught your attention. Beneath the oppressive grip of the restraints, you discovered an unexpected sight – silver cuffs encircling your wrists. The cool metal pressed against your skin, a stark contrast to the unforgiving grip of the clamps placed on top of them. These were the very same ones Natasha had used on you to nullify your powers.

Panic began to rise within you, but you tried to calm yourself as you tried to assess the situation.

Your eyes darted around the room, searching for any clues that might offer an explanation, but there was nothing. It was sparsely furnished with a cold, clinical air about it. With every passing moment, the weight of your confinement pressed down on you, the cold metal of the table digging into your skin. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your heart hammering in your chest as your mind raced with questions, each one more urgent than the last.

How did you end up here? Where were your friends? Were they safe?

As your thoughts continued to run wild, the door to the room creaked open, and two figures stepped in. Your heart skipped a beat, uncertainty gripping you tightly as your eyes darted toward them. A surge of fear and confusion swept through you as Wanda and Natasha appeared before you.

“Well, well, look who decided to join the land of the living. Did you have a nice nap?” Natasha's voice held a touch of mockery, making your anger flare up.

“What do you want from me?” You demanded, trying to hide the unease in your voice.

“You.” Wanda uttered with a terrible smile.

She approached your side. There's a palpable tension in the air as she raised her hand, delicate yet purposeful, and pressed it atop your head.

The moment her warm palm connected with your forehead, it was as if a floodgate had been opened, unleashing a torrent of memories and emotions that surged through your consciousness with an irresistible force. Images flashed before your eyes, scenes from your past replaying in vivid detail, each one accompanied by a wave of associated feelings – joy, sorrow, longing, and regret.

The sensation was unsettling. It felt as if she were rummaging through your mind, peeling back the layers of your psyche, exposing vulnerabilities you never knew existed.

“What are you doing?” You demanded.

Determination blazed in your eyes as you resisted her invasive power.

“I'm simply exploring,” Wanda explained casually, as if she were discussing the weather. Though her lips quirked up at her next words. “After all, what's the harm in uncovering a few secrets?”

A chilling unease took hold, tightening its grip around your heart. The air seemed to thicken, suffocating you with its heaviness. Every fleeting memory, once tucked away safely in the recesses of your mind, now felt exposed, touched by an eerie force that stripped away their privacy. The invasion of your thoughts was an intolerable violation and it sickened you to your core.

“You have no right to invade my mind!” You snapped, your defiance growing stronger.

Natasha, who had been silently observing the exchange, stepped forward with a cold smile. “Oh, but we do.” She interjected, her voice dripping with smugness.

You struggled against the intrusion, but Wanda's powers were formidable, and she persisted in her relentless efforts to penetrate your mind.

“You can't hide anything from me.” Wanda taunted, her red eyes glowing brighter.

You gritted your teeth, determined to protect your most intimate thoughts and secrets. With a cruel smirk, Wanda seemed to revel in her partial success. The red mist in her eyes swirled with a mix of arrogance and excitement.

“You're quite stubborn,” she admitted, acknowledging your resistance. “But I can see right through you. You're not as strong as you think.”

“You'll never break me!” You growled.

Wanda's eyes narrowed at your response, but her lips curled into a cold smile a second later. Her powers surged and the pressure in your mind intensified.

“We’ll see.” Wanda whispered, her voice a chilling reminder of the threat she posed.

The weight of Wanda's power bore down on you. It wasn't just her magic that overwhelmed you; it was the sheer intensity of her presence, the raw potency of her emotions that seemed to radiate from her being like waves of heat from a scorching fire. Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as the witch began to slither into the vulnerable cracks of your mind.

The memories of past mistakes and regrets that you had buried deep within yourself resurfaced, amplified by Wanda's manipulation.

“No, no, no.” You whimpered, shaking your head back and forth.

Despite your best efforts to block her out, Wanda's influence proved unyielding.

“There we go.” Wanda cooed, her voice dripping with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

Her hand cupped the side of your face, a gesture that should have been comforting, but instead, it felt like a cold, condescending touch.

“No, please, stop.” You pleaded.

Your voice was barely audible as you begged for relief from the torment. Though your words fell on deaf ears, Wanda continued to tighten her grip further on your mind, savoring the control she had gained. The lines between reality and the illusion she had crafted blurred, leaving you trapped deep into the abyss of your own mind, a nightmarish dance orchestrated by her chaos magic.

Your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind, swept away by the overwhelming force of her power. You tried to fight it, to cling to the last shreds of your sanity, but it was futile. In an instant, your mind was wiped clean, a blank canvas ready to be painted with Wanda’s desires.

“Is it done?” Natasha asked in a low voice.

“Yes. She won't be aware of where she is or who she is. She'll be a docile little thing.” Wanda said in a monotone manner.

Her gaze was fixed upon you with a sense of superiority. Your once confident demeanor now morphed into a bewildered expression. It amused the witch, the way your thoughts stumbled over themselves like lost wanderers in an unfamiliar terrain. Your eyes, wide and searching, mirrored the vulnerability of a lost little doe navigating the shadows of an enchanted forest, desperately seeking some sort of safe haven.

“Good. Let’s get her out of these restraints.” Natasha stated.

Her hands moved swiftly as she undid the metallic clamps that were wrapped around your wrists and ankles. With a sigh of relief, you felt the weight of the restraints lift from your limbs as Natasha guided you to sit in an upright position. As you looked down, your frown deepened at the sight of a pair of sleek, silver cuffs adorning your wrists.

“What are these? Can you take them off? You asked, your voice tinged with confusion and concern.

Natasha's response was gentle but firm. “No, baby. Those need to stay on. Do you remember how your powers would get out of control? It’s to help you with that.”

Though the words were meant to reassure you, they only added to the fog of uncertainty that clouded your mind. You tried to recall the moment you all previously discussed this, but your memories were hazy, like fragments of a shattered mirror reflecting an incomplete image. No matter how hard you tried to fit them together, there were always pieces missing.

“Your powers can be overwhelming at times. These cuffs are designed to keep them in check, so you don't hurt yourself or others.” Wanda chimed in, her voice smooth and persuasive.

“Oh, ok.”

A part of you wanted to question them further but each time you attempted to push through the mental barrier, your thoughts faltered and retreated.

“You'll be safe with us, just as we will be safe with you.” Natasha reassured, placing a hand on your thigh as if to anchor you in their presence.

Though their words were comforting, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.

Wanda's smile was sweet as she coaxed you with gentle words, “Come on, darling. Let's get you settled into bed.”

You slid off the table with shaky legs. Both women had a firm grip on your upper arms, their touch offering stability until you could regain your sense of balance again.

As you took cautious steps alongside Natasha and Wanda, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead bathed the hallway in an almost ethereal glow. It was in this quiet moment that a nagging question began to gnaw at your thoughts, like a persistent itch just beyond your reach.

“How did I end up on that table?”

Natasha glanced at you with a sympathetic smile. “Unfortunately, you had one of those moments where your powers became unstable, but Wanda managed to stabilize it before things got too out of hand. It was a close call.”

Wanda nodded in agreement. “Your abilities are extraordinary but sometimes they can be a bit unpredictable. We've seen it happen before and we've learned how to handle it.”

As you processed this information, a peculiar haze settled over your mind. It was a feeling that was difficult to articulate, like a vague disquiet that tiptoed around the edges of your awareness.

Unbeknownst to you, Wanda observed your unease. With a soft smile, she reached out and gave your arm a gentle rub, as if to offer comfort. The touch, though reassuring, carried an underlying energy that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

Natasha raised a sharp eyebrow at her, but Wanda gave the assassin a slight shake of her head, the movement barely perceptible. The air around them seemed to vibrate with an unspoken understanding.

Eventually, you all came to a stop in front of an open door that led into a bedroom.

As you stepped into the bedroom, the inviting ambiance instantly embraced you. The soft lighting bathed the room in a warm glow. It seemed to breathe life into the space, illuminating every corner. The walls were adorned with an array of captivating paintings, each one telling a story of its own.

You stepped further inside. The bed, nestled in the corner, beckoned to you, its inviting presence tempting you to surrender to its comfort. Yet, even amidst the allure of the soft sheets and plush pillows, a part of you resisted, a tiny voice within that whispered for you to run.

Natasha stood near the doorway, her piercing gaze fixed squarely on you. Though she appeared composed, you sensed a watchful vigilance behind her demeanor, as if ready to intervene should you attempt anything.

“Isn't this bedroom lovely?” Wanda stated, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “We've always had an eye for beauty.”

You nodded, trying to find the right words to respond, but your thoughts felt clouded. Sensing your hesitation, Wanda grabbed your hand and guided you toward the massive bed. Without a word, she led you across the room, her steps confident and sure.

The sight of it alone was enough to soothe some of the tension coiled within you. Wanda moved you to its edge, her touch reassuring as you sank onto the mattress. The softness cradled your body, momentarily lulling you into a sense of tranquility.

Wanda took a seat beside you and Natasha remained standing, both watching you with an intensity that sent goosebumps across your skin. It was as if they were studying you.

“We'll take good care of you.” Wanda murmured, her hand resting on yours.

As she leaned down, her intent clear in the softness of her gaze, you instinctively turned your head at the last second, redirecting her kiss to your right cheek. The touch of her lips against your skin felt foreign and uncomfortable, like a violation of your personal boundaries.

Wanda pulled back; her brows knitted together in a slight frown. It was as if her attempt at affection had been met with an unexpected obstacle, something she did not anticipate.

“I-I'm sorry.” You stammered, feeling a twinge of guilt for not accepting her gesture as intended.

Her hand glided from your own, tracing a chilling path up your forearm, before tightening her grip.

“Give me a kiss.” Wanda commanded, her tone absent of warmth and laced with an unsettling coldness.

Despite the conflict raging within you, something deep down compelled you to obey. As if under a spell, you turned your head and allowed Wanda to capture your lips with her own.

The kiss was cold and empty, devoid of any genuine emotion or connection. It felt as though you were going through the motions, following a script written by someone else. As Wanda pulled away, a self-satisfied smile crept back onto her face.

Natasha watched the scene with a calculating gaze. Her expression remained unreadable.

“It’s time for you to get some rest.” Natasha interrupted. “We’ll join you in a moment.”

You hesitated, feeling a sense of unease creeping into your voice as you processed her words.

“Wait, I’m not sleeping alone?” You questioned, your mind racing with possibilities, each one more unsettling than the last.

Natasha's amusement was evident in the smirk that danced on her lips. “No, you're not.”

Wanda let out a chuckle. As you looked at them, you realized that their intentions were far from innocent. A rush of embarrassment washed over you and the heat spread across your cheeks like wildfire.

Wanda's teasing tone cut through the air like a blade. “Aw, look, Nat, she's so shy.” She mocked and Natasha responded with a pleased hum.

Feeling the weight of their gazes upon you, you turned onto your side, facing away from them as they laughed at you. You heard the bathroom light switch on as Natasha's voice broke through the silence.

“Alright, I'm going to get changed.” She declared with an air of nonchalance.

Wanda remained seated on the edge of the bed. Her fingers began to toy with a few strands of your hair, and you couldn’t help but unwind under her touch.

“You need to relax, dear. Everything will be fine.” Wanda said in a soft tone.

Though you couldn’t see it, Wanda's lips curled into a sly smirk as she observed the effect her touch had on you. Sitting there, her fingers lightly grazing your scalp, she could feel the tension in your muscles melt away.

With a soft exhale, you found yourself leaning into her touch, craving more.

#natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #marvel #scarlet witch #natasha romanov #dark wanda x reader #dark natasha x reader #scarlet witch x reader

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infamous-light · 9 months

Text

Don't Turn Your Back

Cal Kestis x Dagan Gera

AO3: Don't Turn Your Back

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: Dagan successfully persuades Cal to aid him in the search for the compass, but are things truly as clear-cut as they appear?

Warnings: Mild dub-con

In the dimly lit lab under the forest array, the air crackled with an electric tension as Cal and Dagan locked eyes. The vibrant hues of their lightsabers cast a dynamic glow, painting the lab in a mesmerizing dance of red and blue. The room itself felt like a living entity, holding its breath in anticipation of the clash that was about to unfold.

Sweat glistened on Cal’s furrowed forehead as his grip tightened around the hilt of his lightsaber. Cal's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, a jumble of training and lessons from his past Jedi master. He drew upon that knowledge, seeking the serenity of the light side to guide his every move.

Dagan, on the other hand, wore a dark and determined expression. His eyes burned with an unyielding fire, fueled by the bitterness of past grievances. He embraced the anger that fueled his power, drawing from the dark side of the force to unleash his true potential.

Cal's feet shifted in place; the soles of his boots gripped the smooth surface beneath him with precision. In a split second, he propelled himself forward, his movements fluid and calculated. His lightsaber traced a brilliant arc through the air as he executed a downward slash with resolute force.

The red and blue lightsaber blades clashed, emitting a searing burst of energy that illuminated the lab with an intense burst of light. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, causing the very floor beneath them to tremble.

As Cal's blade connected with Dagan's, sparks erupted, scattering like a shower of brilliant stars.

“We don’t have to do this, Dagan! I’m not your enemy!” Cal's voice quivered with urgency as he pleaded with Dagan, hoping to reach the part of him that still held onto the light.

“You dare stand against me?” Dagan calmly stated with a mask of indifference.

Their lightsabers continued to dance through the air, the blades weaving intricate patterns in a captivating display of skill. Each clash reverberated throughout the lab, filling the space with the hum of oscillating energy. The force of their swings caused nearby equipment to rattle and topple over.

Cal’s lightsaber connected with Dagan’s own once more with a strong downward strike, creating a high-pitched screeching noise that rang out around them.

“Please, Dagan.” Cal's voice strained with emotion as he spoke, his voice tinged with desperation. “We’re on the same side. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Typical Jedi,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. “Always clinging to your precious ideals and moral high ground, blinded by your self-righteousness.”

Dagan stepped aside and lunged forward with the lightsaber held in his left hand, striking at Cal with a ferocity that took him by surprise. Cal managed to parry the attack just in time, managing to avoid a lethal hit.

Dagan’s assault turned vicious. Quick jabs and powerful swings came in relentless waves. It left Cal little room to counter. He felt the weight of each impact in his arms, the strain of holding his ground becoming almost unbearable.

With a final, powerful swing, Dagan's blade caught the tip of Cal's lightsaber, sending it spiraling out of his hand. It clattered on the floor on the far side of the lab.

The force surged within Dagan and with a chilling determination, he focused his rage and hatred, drawing on the depths of the dark side of the force. With one final push, he unleashed a torrent of energy which sent Cal flying back across the lab, landing in a heap on the floor with a resounding thud.

Every ounce of breath was swept out of his lungs in an instant. Pain shot throughout his body as his vision blurred over.

Dagan advanced, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he closed in on Cal. “Is this all you have to offer?” he taunted; the dark side's corruption evident in every word. “You're weak, Cal Kestis. A pathetic relic of a dead order.”

Cal attempted to get back on his feet until a heavy boot pressed down on his throat. The weight on his windpipe made it difficult to breathe, and he gasped for air, desperately trying to free himself from the oppressive hold.

“Stay down, little Jedi.” Dagan taunted. His smug smirk was reflected in the flickering lights above, and he seemed to relish the sight of Cal struggling to breathe.

Cal’s green eyes gazed up at Dagan, a mix of defiance and determination burning within them. Dagan’s face lit up in twisted amusement and he pressed down harder, reveling in the feeling of power and control.

“Such fire.” He hummed. There was a slight tilt of his head as his gaze traveled over Cal’s vulnerable form in appreciation. “On second thought, perhaps I’ll let you live.” Dagan mused before his smirk turned into a sinister grin. “It would be a waste to ruin such a pretty face.”

Confusion marred Cal’s face as he tried to process Dagan’s words, but he didn’t have time to dwell on what was said further as a wave of gentle force washed over his mind. His eyelids fluttered closed as the soothing influence enveloped him.

***

As Cal began to regain consciousness, a haze clouded his mind. His head throbbed with a dull ache and his throat felt raw and sore. Blinking his eyes open, he took in his surroundings, trying to make sense of what had happened.

The Jedi found himself lying on a small bed in what appeared to be a poorly lit and cramped room. The walls were cold and metallic, and the faint hum of an engine echoed throughout the space. It didn't take long for him to realize that he was on a starship, perhaps a shuttle if he had to guess.

Slowly, his awareness returned, and he discovered that his hands and feet were bound with metallic clamps, preventing any movement. Panic surged within him as he tried to free himself, but the restraints were too tight. Cal's heart pounded against his chest as he realized that he was all alone and that Beedee was nowhere to be seen. He must have been left back on Koboh.

Just then, he noticed the presence of another figure in the room. Dagan stood nearby; his calm expression illuminated by the soft glow of the ship's overhead light. His golden robes billowed around him, a chilling aura of power and malevolence emanating from him.

“So, you're finally awake.” Dagan's voice dripped with mockery, relishing in Cal's helplessness.

Cal's emerald eyes narrowed. “What do you want, Dagan” Cal's voice was firm, despite the fear and uncertainty that gnawed at him. “Why have you brought me here?”

Dagan took a few measured steps forward while Cal regarded him with suspicion.

“While you were unconscious, I've been pondering other options,” Dagan stated, his voice oozing with a calculated tone. “I'm willing to extend an olive branch, so to speak. I propose that you help me find the compass, which will allow us to navigate Koboh's Abyss and, ultimately, reach Tanalorr. Perhaps we can come to an agreement about rebuilding a better order to overthrow the Empire.”

Cal’s eyes narrowed. “Why the sudden change of heart? What assurance do I have that you won't betray me once we find the compass?” His voice was steady, masking the turmoil in his heart. He needed to be cautious; trusting Dagan blindly would be a grave mistake.

The corner of his lip twitched upward. “You don’t. But I am willing to undo the restraints, on one condition: you must promise not to harm me.”

Cal’s brow furrowed in thought as he weighed the risks and potential outcomes. His instincts screamed at him, warning him of the danger that lay ahead. But a glimmer of hope persisted within him — the hope of finding a way to reach Dagan, to bring him back from the darkness. “Fine. I promise not to harm you.”

“Excellent.” Dagan gave a pleased smile. He proceeded to undo the metal bindings that kept the Jedi strapped to the bed. Cal shivered as Dagan’s fingertips brushed across the top of his hands in a delicate manner.

His eyes locked with Dagan’s gaze and the former Jedi smirked at him. As the restraints fell away, Cal flexed his hands and feet, relishing the newfound freedom of movement.

“I still don’t trust you by the way,” Cal stated firmly. “I will be keeping a close eye on you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Dagan responded, his tone dripping in amusement.

“Where are we headed to anyway?”

“To the lunar facility,” Dagan replied. “A High Republic device is stowed away there. It will aid us in finding the compass.”

Curiosity piqued, he couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know this?”

“After the Nihil invaded Tanalorr and the order was given to abandon the planet, I took it upon myself to hide the device at the lunar facility,” Dagan revealed. “I saw it as a means to recover the last compass that remained unaccounted for, which was kept by my master.”

“What happened to the rest of the compasses?”

Dagan's expression darkened with bitterness as he responded, “The Jedi Council ordered the destruction of all the Abyss compasses. Fortunately, no one, including my master, is aware of the device’s existence. In hindsight, it proved to be for the best, considering she betrayed me.”

“I’m sorry.” Cal said sincerely, his voice filled with genuine remorse for the pain Dagan had endured.

Dagan's expression hardened, brushing off Cal's apology. “I don’t need your pitiful apologies.” He retorted. “The lunar facility is five days away. We should rest and prepare for what lies ahead.”

The tension in the room was palpable but Cal nodded, recognizing the need for rest and contemplation. “Of course.”

***

In the days that followed, the ship pressed on toward the lunar facility. The atmosphere on board remained tense, the aftermath of their last conversation lingering in the air like a palpable barrier between them.

However, as the journey wore on, Cal noticed a subtle shift in Dagan's demeanor. The former Jedi, once guarded and reserved, began to open up again. He noticed the return of Dagan’s smirks – playful and mischievous. Cal often found Dagan's hands straying in proximity to his lower back or his upper arm.

The Jedi couldn't help but feel a mixture of confusion and curiosity about Dagan's actions.

This is something that he has never explored before.

As a Jedi, he had always been taught to guard against personal attachments and to focus on the path of selflessness and detachment from emotions. Cal's training had ingrained in him the importance of maintaining emotional balance and resisting the allure of strong emotions that could lead to the dark side. Yet, as he stood by Dagan's side, feeling the subtle touch of their hands brushing against each other, he found himself torn between the teachings of the Jedi Order and the stirring emotions within him.

No.

He must remain focused.

Cal excused himself with a polite nod and retreated to the small room where he intended to get some further rest.

Later in the night, Cal stirred from his slumber as a gentle touch against his cheek roused him from his sleep. Cal's eyes fluttered open to find Dagan's face mere inches from his own, bathed in the soft glow of the ship's dim lights.

“You’re so beautiful.” Dagan whispered.

At that moment, the air around them seemed charged with an unspoken tension. Cal's mind raced, grappling with a maelstrom of emotions.

“Y-You should get some rest, Dagan. We still have a long journey ahead.” Cal’s voice wavered slightly.

The former Jedi looked lost in his own thoughts as if his mind was grappling with something beyond his own understanding. Cal's Adam’s apple bobbed up and down nervously, uncertain of what Dagan was doing. He watched Dagan's left hand slowly snake down to his throat.

“Are you alright, Dagan?” Cal asked softly.

He looked up at Cal, his expression unreadable. “I want you.”

Before he could respond, Dagan surged forward and crashed his lips against Cal’s in a passionate and impulsive kiss. Cal instinctively responded to the sudden kiss, his heart momentarily overpowering his rational thoughts. He felt the warmth of Dagan's touch against his throat, the passion in the embrace, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed like time stood still.

But then, a voice within him — the voice of his Jedi training and the whispers of caution —brought him back to the reality of their situation. Cal gently pulled away, breaking the kiss, and placed his hands on Dagan's shoulders, creating a small but meaningful distance between them.

“Dagan… we can’t do this.” Cal said, his voice tinged with both tenderness and resolve.

Dagan's frustration was evident as his eyebrows pinched together. “And who decides that? Your precious Jedi Order?” he spat with a touch of bitterness in his voice.

Before he could process what was happening, Dagan straddled him, their bodies pressed close together as the former Jedi ground down against his hips. Cal's eyes widened in shock as Dagan's sudden actions took him by surprise. His heart raced and his cheeks flushed with a mix of confusion and desire.

Dagan's lips silenced any protests Cal wanted to blurt out with a passionate kiss, and for a moment, Cal's thoughts were thrown into disarray. His mind and heart were at odds, torn between the pull of desire and the weight of his Jedi training.

“For once, allow yourself this, Cal.” Dagan cooed as he broke the kiss.

Dagan's fingers traced a tender path down Cal's side, eliciting a shiver of anticipation that ran throughout the Jedi's body. His touch was gentle yet electric, igniting a spark that intensified the connection between them.

Dagan’s left hand trailed further south and lingered at the belt buckle of Cal's pants for just a moment. Cal flickered his eyes up to meet the bright blue of Dagan’s. The former Jedi’s gaze held such desire for him that it caused his cock to stir in his own pants.

Not wasting another second, Dagan undid Cal’s buckle with ease and pushed his pants down past his knees. Cal's breath hitched as Dagan's hand moved to palm his cock through his underwear.

“There we go.” Dagan encouraged. “Bask in the pleasure.”

Cal’s eyes slipped shut as soon as Dagan’s hand ducked underneath his waistband and gripped his hardening cock. He gave it a few soft strokes before he moved down Cal’s body to situate himself between the Jedi’s thighs.

“Is this your first time, little Jedi?” Dagan inquired in a low tone.

Cal blushed and looked away in embarrassment. “I-uh… yes.”

Dagan’s grin widened at the words. “Then rest assured, my dear Jedi, I’ll make sure this is an experience you’ll never forget.”

He pulled Cal’s underwear down his legs and watched how his cock sprang free. It’s long and measured, nestled in a neat patch of red hair. The base was wide and tapered slightly towards the head in a sharp curve.

His left hand reached out to wrap around the Jedi’s length again as he moved his mouth near the tip which oozed with precum.

Finally, Dagan’s lips wrapped around the head of Cal’s cock.

Cal is heavy and thick on his tongue, the taste of him was intoxicating. It was musky and salty with a hint of sweetness to it.

Dagan’s tongue caressed the frenulum before he moved back up to tease the flared head with light swirls.

Cal moaned in pleasure as Dagan continued to circle the glans all the while his fingers played with the sensitive skin. His whole body writhed beneath Dagan’s tongue, and he found that his legs trembled with each lap at the reddened cockhead, stimulating the sensitive area and coating it in saliva.

The Jedi’s hands grasped at Dagan’s silvery hair as his head bobbed a little, drawing more of that warm, smooth length across his lips and tongue. He had the momentum he needed to allow Cal’s cock to invade his throat as he proceeded to swallow the entire shaft in one swift movement.

“Oh, Dagan!” Cal gasped. His hips stuttered in place.

Dagan gazed up at the Jedi and met Cal’s half-lidded eyes glazed over with lust. Cal caught his lower lip between his teeth, stifling the moans that threatened to leave his throat. Then the warm, wet heat around him was gone, and Dagan stared up at him, lips swollen, and spit-shined. “Come for me, my little Jedi.” Dagan's voice took on a deep and ominous tone.

Lost in the moment, Cal didn’t notice the dark glint in Dagan’s eyes. Unaware of the deeper desire lurking beneath Dagan's calm demeanor. He bestowed Cal a devilish smirk before he resumed his prior ministrations, quickening the pace.

His left hand moved up and down the shaft in rhythm with his mouth, sucking and slurping, drawing more of that sweet taste from the slit. Cal’s cock twitched, signaling that he was close.

The sight of Dagan’s lips stretched around his cock and the gentle touch to his balls was enough to send Cal careening over the edge.

His cock spasmed as thick, hot come spilled down Dagan’s awaiting throat. The former Jedi moaned at the taste when the substance coated his tongue. He swallowed each drop before he pulled his mouth off the Jedi’s cock.

Cal's breaths came in labored gasps, and a glistening layer of sweat coated his skin, adding a sheen to his flushed chest.

“Well, well, it seems the little Jedi isn't as immune to his desires as he'd like to believe.” Dagan taunted, a playful glint in his eyes.

Cal's cheeks reddened but he refused to let Dagan's teasing remark get to him completely. “Don't get too smug.” He murmured.

“Oh, you’ll be singing a different tune after I’m through with you.” Dagan purred.

The soft beeping of the ship's console abruptly pierced the air. It echoed throughout the room like an unwelcome intruder. Dagan sighed in frustration; his fingers paused in their gentle caresses across Cal’s abdomen as he glanced over at the flashing console.

“Well, it seems the galaxy has other plans for us.” Cal remarked, trying to regain his composure amidst the interruption.

“It appears so.” Dagan said, his tone slightly distant and distracted.

As Cal coughed awkwardly, the sound seemed to bring Dagan back to the present. The faraway look in his eyes faded, replaced by a sudden awareness of their surroundings.

Realizing the need to refocus on their mission, Dagan climbed off Cal, giving him space to collect himself.

“We should attend to the matter at hand. We’re nearing the lunar facility.” Dagan said, his voice now steady and composed.

“Right.” Cal nodded with a hint of awkwardness in his demeanor. As he tried to maintain his composure in front of Dagan, his mind was filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and uncertainties. The teachings of the Jedi Order weighed heavily on his mind, and the lessons of detachment and emotional restraint echoed in his ears.

This was something that he couldn’t afford to focus on at the moment.

For now, the High Republic device remained their priority, and he was ready to face whatever challenges that lay ahead.

#dagan gera x cal kestis #dagan gera #cal kestis #jedi survivor #star wars fanfiction #star wars #cal kestis x dagan gera

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infamous-light · 9 months

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Sacrifice Part II

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel! Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Sacrifice

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: There is nothing nobler than offering oneself to the Ruler of Hell to ensure humanity's survival.

Warnings: non-con touching

Hell.

A place where one is separated from God.

Where sinners are subjected to eternal suffering and torment.

Where hope comes to die.

It is an infernal creation that the light of heaven will never reach.

The very air reverberated with a dissonant symphony of despair. Anguished cries and guttural groans of the damned rang out throughout the fiery landscape in a cacophony of never-ending misery. Sharp, high-pitched wails morphed into an amalgamation of sorrow and regret as each discarded soul begged for another chance at forgiveness from God. The discordant chorus created a haunting reminder of their past sins and failings.

Amidst the unbearable heat that emanated from the deep, jagged pits scattered across the sea of fire, their pained screams sent a terrible chill down your spine.

This was a realm you never thought you would ever have to step a single foot into. The oppressive heat bore down on your shoulders with such heaviness and the air you breathed was near suffocating, tainted with the acrid smell of sulfur and smoke that permeated everywhere. It added to the blotched gray clouds which sprawled the skies of hell.

It was a dreadful sight to behold.

The decision to offer yourself in exchange for Dream’s helm was one you didn’t make lightly though. The ramifications were too high to overlook, necessitating a delicate balance in all things in the universe. Ever since you were assigned to Dream by one of the archangels in the Silver City, you made a solemn vow to aid the Dream Lord in reclaiming his missing symbols of office.

The bond between you two deepened and evolved into something far more profound over time. What began as mere companionship blossomed into an unbreakable friendship, rooted in mutual trust, shared experiences, and a level of understanding of each other.

That was a fact that Lucifer discerned in an instant.

Her perceptive nature was akin to that of a predator sensing its vulnerable prey. She homed in on the moment when you first crossed the threshold into the opulent throne room. Her eyes traversed your form, lingering on your wings, and a small smirk tugged on her lips. There was a tempestuous glimmer that shone in her cerulean eyes. The weight of her scrutiny was almost palpable, leaving you feeling exposed.

“I want your angel.”

Those words dripped off Lucifer’s tongue like honey, searing themselves into your mind. The balustrade underneath your fingers bore the brunt of your tightening grip, the elegant wood groaned in protest from the force of your clenched fists. The skin across your knuckles went taut, mirroring the turmoil within, as the intensity of the moment threatened to engulf you entirely.

The myriad of voices from behind you drew you back to the present. Slowly, you turned around. Before you stood Lucifer, draped in a deep red robe that accented her black, leathery wings, exuding an aura of charismatic charm and authority. Beside her stood Mazikeen, her consort, a figure shrouded in an air of mystery and poise.

Completing this unusual assembly was Azazel, whose form was an eerie fusion of menacing eyes and sharp-toothed mouths, presenting an otherworldly spectacle that defied the bounds of conventional understanding.

The crease between your brow furrowed deeper as you listened to each word exchanged between Lucifer and Azazel. The armies of hell, once confined to their infernal domain, now sought to expand their malevolent reach unto the Dreaming, even the Silver City.

Horror snaked inside your chest at the implication. It ignited a surge of anxiety within you.

The thought of either realm falling under the influence of Hell struck a chord of dread within you, for it would surely herald the destruction of reality itself.

After the conversation reached its conclusion, Azazel bid his farewell, his disembodied figure disappearing within himself. The absence of his presence left behind an aura of unspoken emotions and lingering thoughts.

Lucifer strode over to the fire pit, her steps carrying an air of determination. The crackling flames cast dancing shadows upon her face. There was something hauntingly beautiful about the way the fire's light played upon her features as if the fire itself paid homage to the Lord of Hell.

“He’s not to be trusted.” Mazikeen stated. The weight of her warning hung in the air like an unyielding truth that could not be ignored.

“Obviously. Though, he is not wrong.” Lucifer replied.

“Then, if I may ask, your majesty, what are you going to do?

“Something I have never done before.” A mischievous glint danced in her eyes, betraying the devilish delight that swirled within her as she spoke those words. “Something that will make God absolutely livid,” her smirk widened into a devious grin as her gaze strayed up to stare right at you. “and bring Morpheus to his knees.”

Lucifer stepped away from the fire pit and glided across the room, closing the distance between you two.

“Is something bothering you?”

The question hung in the air like a delicate web. As she approached, her eyes never left yours. The subtle sway of her hips and the playfulness in her movements seemed to draw you in, leaving you mesmerized by her enigmatic charm.

The room seemed to tremble with tension as your wings unfurled in a display of irritation, their feathers rustling like a symphony of fury. Her eyes seemed to brighten at that. Your jaw clenched together with resolute determination.

“You will fail.”

“Will I?” Lucifer gave you a smug smirk, the playful curve of her lips betraying a confidence that bordered on audacity. Her response was both a challenge and an invitation, daring you to question the certainty of your own beliefs and convictions.

“There is no way for you to escape from Hell. You’re bound here.”

Narrowing her eyes, she tilted her head ever so slightly.

“Allow me to ask something of you,” she began, her voice carrying a mix of serenity and righteous indignation that lent weight to her question. The pause that followed seemed to stretch as if she was allowing the gravity of her inquiry to sink in. “Is it fair to be banished for all eternity for simply wishing to exercise my own agency?”

In this moment, you realized that Lucifer was not just asking for answers but inviting you to explore the depths of your own beliefs and principles.

“Of course not, but you and I both know that this was more than just having your own free will. You wanted to exalt His throne and to be honored above all others.”

Each word was uttered with unwavering conviction, an acknowledgment of Lucifer's true ambitions. You remained resolute, refusing to be swayed by her beguiling words.

She scoffed. “You believe you understand my own ambitions. Such a bold little angel.” Her voice carried a perilous edge. Her leathery wings twitched in irritation, a telltale sign of her frustration and restlessness. The sound of their movement was like a soft rustle, a subtle reminder of the power she possessed beneath the surface.

You remained quiet as the tension between the two of you grew thicker.

“Why the sudden silence? Please, do continue. I’m curious to know your thoughts.” Lucifer mocked, a twisted smile forming on her lips.

Your voice held a note of finality as you stated plainly, “I think I've said enough.”

Lucifer's imposing figure towered over you, casting a shadow that seemed to engulf the very air around you.

“Still so defiant. You will learn your place sooner than later.” She declared in a calm tone. It was a warning tinged with a hint of a sinister promise.

She turned away from you and departed the throne room alongside Mazikeen, who cast one final withering glare your way before following her Lord out.

***

Every fiber of your being was soaked in weariness as you lay prostrate on the cool, silken bedsheets, enveloped in a profound stillness. The passage of time was an elusive notion in this realm, making it impossible to discern how long you had been here – lost in the abyss of Hell's dark embrace.

Amidst the perplexing haze of timeless existence, the peace and quiet didn't last long as a lean form pressed down on your back.

“You intrigue me, little angel,” Lucifer's voice whispered close to your ear, sending a shiver throughout your body. “Such beauty and power, and yet you confine yourself to your divine duties.”

Her fingers traced a delicate pattern along the outer edge of your wings, and her proximity sent a tingle of discomfort through your exhausted form. Those words were like a tantalizing melody, coaxing you to consider the forbidden possibilities she offered. But the resolve that had guided you thus far held strong. You knew the allure of her touch was a guise, a way to manipulate your emotions and tempt you into her web of deception.

“I will not forsake my purpose.” You breathed, your voice betraying the struggle within. “Your temptations hold no sway over me.”

Lucifer chuckled, a low, calming sound. “Such conviction.” she cooed, her voice a hypnotic song that reverberated in the stillness of the bedroom.

As Lucifer's fingers trailed along the pristine white feathers of your wings, she reveled in the slight twitch they made in response to her touch. Each delicate brush of her fingertips sent a tingling sensation from the crown of your head, all the way down to your toes, and a part of you yearned to surrender to the temptation she offered.

“You truly are a marvel,” she mused, her voice carrying a hint of admiration. “Your wings... so pure, so untouched by darkness.” Then, her voice took on a more sinister tone, twisted with mischief. “But that doesn't mean you are exempt from temptation. Even the purest of beings can be led astray by desire and curiosity.”

A sharp gasp tore from your throat as she took your earlobe between her teeth, giving it a light nip before she kissed along your jaw. Her touch was electrifying. The sensation was both unexpected and enticing, stirring a whirlwind of conflicting emotions deep inside of you.

Yet, amidst the allure of her seductive touch, a part of you resisted, clinging to the celestial light that burned brightly within your essence. With a subtle, yet firm, movement, Lucifer pressed her lithe form against your back, pinning you to the bed as you instinctively shifted in place.

"You resist so valiantly," she remarked, her voice a velvety whisper that seemed to echo in the stillness of the bedroom. "But do not forget, the allure of darkness will always be there, beckoning you to explore the hidden depths within yourself."

Her words hung in the air, a subtle challenge that stirred the depths of your very being. Your breath quickened and you closed your eyes, silently hoping she would release her hold on you.

Much to your surprise, Lucifer withdrew, leaving you lying there in shock.

“I will return later, my sweet little angel.” She purred.

The faint echoes of her gentle touch and whispered words continued to swirl around in your mind long after she left.

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #the sandman lucifer morningstar x reader #the sandman lucifer #the sandman #the sandman lucifer x reader

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infamous-light · 1 year

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Discipline

Larissa Weems x Bratty! Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Discipline

Word Count: 497

Summary: Larissa is no stranger to your bad behavior and she won't hesitate to put you back in your place.

Warnings: suggestive themes

There was nothing quite like the sight of Larissa standing before you, her hands placed on her hips with a stern expression lining her face. She was the perfect image of intimidation at this very moment.

It sent a thrill through every fiber of your being.

“Do you want to be punished?” She asked in a low tone.

The corner of your mouth wanted to twitch upward into a self-satisfied smirk, but you resisted the urge to and tamped down on it instead, continuing to stare at Larissa with an innocent look on your face. The action didn’t go unnoticed by her.

Larissa’s ice-blue eyes narrowed into displeasure and her red lips pressed into a thin line.

The click of her high heels echoed around her office as she closed the space between you two, slow and predator-like. There was a flicker of fear that raced down your spine as Larissa towered over you, engulfing you in her shadow.

Her right hand reached out and grasped your lower jaw in a firm grip, forcing your head back in order for you to look up at her. The sharp, manicured points of her nails dug into your cheeks and you winced from the slight pain.

“Answer me.” She demanded.

Despite your current nerves, you wanted nothing more than to be ravaged by this woman. With all the conviction you could muster, you breathed out one single word:

“Yes.”

Her mouth curled up into a grin while smug gratification oozed off her in waves.

“Of course you do.” Larissa sneered down at you. “A little brat like you desires nothing else but to be put in their place.”

The hand around your jaw disappeared and glided down to rest on the center of your chest. She pushed you down onto her desk with no small amount of care and pressed the full length of her body flush against yours, effectively pinning you in place.

There wasn’t even a second for you to regain your bearings before Larissa surged forward and closed the last few remaining inches, capturing your lips in an earnest kiss. Her mouth was warm and enthusiastic against your own. A needy moan slipped out of you with each swipe of her tongue along your lower lip and you opened your mouth wider, allowing her to delve in deeper.

The desire to touch her grew with each second her mouth was on yours until it became overwhelming. Your hands lifted off the desk and began to trace a line across the hem of her skirt before raising the material up her thighs. Both of your wrists were seized just then and forced above your head in one swift movement.

She pulled away from your lips – much to your disappointment – to look down at you with an arched eyebrow.

“I do not recall giving you permission to touch me.” Larissa stated with a slight edge to her voice. “Must I restrain you?”

You could only whimper in response.

#larissa weems #larissa x reader #principal larissa weems #wednesday #gwendoline christie

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infamous-light · 1 year

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Sacrifice

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel! Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Sacrifice

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: There is nothing nobler than offering oneself to the Ruler of Hell to ensure humanity's survival.

Warnings: Non-con touching of the wing

“I want your angel.”

Those few simple words echoed within the walls of your mind, searing into the deep recesses of your memory.

It caused your chest to tighten, as if a pound of bricks rested its weight across where a human heart would have been if you were born a mortal. Each of your fingers trembled despite your hands becoming numb and your breaths came out uneven and shallow.

The mere thought of the Ruler of Hell demanding you in exchange for Dream’s helm brought forth a new wave of terror to wash over you.

“No, I do not agree to the terms of our deal.”

Dream’s deep and imposing voice snapped you back to the present.

Lucifer arched a single, unimpressive eyebrow at the shorter man standing before her.

“Truly?” She drawled out in a slow manner. “Then it appears that this is where your visit will come to an end, Dream Lord.” His title was said with a mixture of derision and ridicule.

Your eyes flickered from the back of Dream’s head to Lucifer’s impassioned gaze. This was a foolish decision, you knew. The restoration of his realm and bringing back balance to The Dreaming was vital. Without it, humanity’s survival will come to a swift end.

Swallowing down your nerves, you took one step forward.

“I agree to the deal, Dream.” You declared aloud.

He turned toward you with a slight furrow to his brow, a questioning look on his face.

“It’s ok. I want to do this.” You paused in your speech as your gaze drifted toward the towering figure standing a few feet away from you. There was a glimmer of interest that shone within those ice-blue eyes of hers. You averted your eyes and focused on Dream’s intense gaze. “I know how important your tools are to you.”

His dark eyes narrowed a fraction.

“I will not trade my closest friend.” He now turned to fully face you. “We will find another way.”

“Dream, please. Let me make my own decision. This is something that needs to be done. You know it.” Your voice trailed off into a gentle whisper as you stared at him, imploring him to reconsider.

His expression morphed into one of repressed pain.

“As you wish.” His tone was solemn as he murmured those words.

Lucifer smiled, a terrible and beautiful thing.

“So, it is done.” She announced.

The loud snap of her fingers rang throughout the dark throne room and a lesser demon appeared with Dream’s helm carried in his arms. The demon handed over the item with reluctance and then sneered as Dream turned his back from the foul creature to face you once more with the helm now held within his own hands.

“I will come back for you.” Dream said in earnest. “I promise.”

You gave him a sad smile in response.

“Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Dream.” Lucifer’s airy tone interrupted with a small tsk. “The terms have been set and they belong to me fully. I will not give them up so easily.” The corner of her lips twisted into a sardonic grin.

“I know.” He stated simply. “Until that day, Lightbringer.”

He turned on his heel and pulled out a small pouch, pouring his sand onto the floor in one concentrated area. A cloud of sand arose around him just then, swirling in all directions. His eyes met your own for a split second and you watched as he began to fade away along with the silt until there was nothing left of him.

There was only silence now as you were finally left alone with the beast of the underworld.

“Stubborn one, isn’t he?” Lucifer said in amusement.

Those glacial eyes bore right through you as you stood in the center of the room. There was a slight tilt of her head as her keen gaze roved over your form, observing your nervous countenance.

“What is your name?”

Your lips were pressed into a thin line for a moment. After a few seconds, you decided to tell her your name with some amount of hesitance.

Every fiber of your body ached in dread as Lucifer began to circle around you, akin to a hungry predator stalking its trapped prey. The skin on the back of your neck prickled in fear as she continued to tail around you.

Lucifer came to a stop in front of you and you tilted your face up to look at her. A sickening churn twisted its way into your gut as you noted how her eyes focused on your wings.

Her gaze was thick with something so noticeable that you couldn’t even deign to ignore it even if you wanted to: desire.

Her right hand reached out and skimmed over the pure, white feathers of one of your wings, letting it trail along the intricate patterns which blended into one another, giving it a smooth appearance. The tips of her fingers caressed the rounded, delicate curvature of your wing, delighting in the softness that graced her skin.

The word beautiful slipped passed her lips and a shiver made its way down your spine.

“Sensitive, are we?” Lucifer chuckled, a hint of cruelty behind it.

You glared up at her.

She smiled down at you. “Oh, come now, don’t give me that look. It rids of you such beauty.”

“I’d rather not have your hands sully my wings.” The pure disgust that laced your tone couldn’t be masked as you continued to scowl at her.

Lucifer’s eyes flashed in warning as her hand darted out to grip your jaw in a vice-like hold.

“My, who knew that a sweet little angel such as yourself could hold such fire within them.”

The pressure on your mandible increased as you tried to yank your head away but the grasp she has on you was unrelenting. The sharp, manicured ends of her nails dug into your cheeks with each movement you made.

“While it is entertaining to watch you struggle, I will not allow such disobedience from you.” She pulled you flush against her front and leaned down, the surface of her lips tickling the curve of your ear. She whispered: “It is time for you to learn your place.”

The next moment was unexpected as a harsh shove forced you down to the ground, causing the side of your head to bounce off the stone floor. Your vision blurred over.

An agonizing fire lit up all your nerve endings just then as the sharp point of her heel pressed down into your upper back, pinning you to the cold floor beneath her. A sharp yelp escaped you as she applied steady pressure between the vulnerable gap where the roots of your wings sprouted from your body.

“Beg for mercy.” Lucifer cooed above you. “Beg for mercy and I will end the pain wrought upon your body.”

Hot, searing pain shot throughout your body and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears away.

She shifted more of her weight onto her foot and the tip of her heel dug in deeper into your abused flesh.

“I know how much this hurts you, my sweet little angel.” Lucifer said with false sympathy.

She pressed down harder.

The cry that tore from your throat was raw in its anguish. Fresh tears traveled down your cheeks in a steady stream. It was too much.

“Please.” You managed to sob out, sounding pathetic to your own ears. “Please, stop.”

The burning pain between your wings immediately disappeared and the pressure lifted away.

Desperate, ragged breaths entered your airway as you lied there in a heap. Still, motionless.

The soft taps of her heels connecting with the floor reverberated around your prone form until a pair of black boots appeared in your field of view. There was a rustling of fabric before Lucifer knelt to be closer to your level.

Her long, slim fingers ran through the strands of your hair in a gentle manner.

“Your agony is exquisite.” She breathed out.

Her hand moved to cup your cheek, the gesture seeming almost reverent in nature. The pad of her thumb brushed away a single, lone tear off your cheek and then brought it up to her mouth, lapping at it with the tip of her tongue. Lucifer let out a satisfied moan at the taste.

“I knew you would be perfect for me.” Her eyes were lidded with lust as she stared down at you. “The moment my gaze laid upon you, I just knew I had to have you all for myself.”

The next words she uttered had your stomach swirling in horror.

“Corrupting you will be the sweetest of all pleasures.” Lucifer purred, her eerily white teeth beaming back at you from behind pink lips.

#lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #the sandman lucifer #the sandman lucifer morningstar x reader #the sandman lucifer x reader #the sandman #the sandman morpheus

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