#ink.wanda

Louisiana State Penitentiary (Angola, Louisiana)

It’s not like you were ever  meant for greatness. Born to a croc hybrid mother who could never hold onto a man, raised in a city where even the rain felt sticky and oppressive most days. You were  a burnt end, a measly little asterisk in a world that couldn’t pretend to care long enough to reference properly. You grew up on the streets of New Orleans, moving from foster home to foster home until the system gave up on you entirely. By the time you were eighteen, you may have been a two-bit thug, but you’d already accumulated a rap sheet longer than most politicians' promises.

But if there was one thing you weren’t gonna do, it was give a damn. About anything. Especially the people who told you what to do. And by the time you were closing out your twenties, you were locked up on death row for a slew of robberies, assaults, and eventually manslaughter. It sounded about right, you going out this way; a selfish coward that came into the world with a crack and a whimper about to fizzle out with no impression to leave behind.

But then, on one particularly hot night in a cell that felt more like a coffin, you’d gotten an offer.

Inside a dimly lit prison cell, You sat with your back pressed against the cold cement wall, staring at the flickering bulb highlighting the peeling white paint above you. It’s all you really could do in the  cramped space, the scutes along your tail scraping against the concrete floor as it lashed idly back and forth. The rhythmic tick of a clock echoed through the room, its sound blending with the distant hum of the crickets outside. It was a lonely, suffocating place — but at least it was a familiar place after all this time.

The unlocking of your cell door broke you out of your thoughts.

The warden entered, his face expressionless as always, but there was something different about him tonight. He sighed before he spoke. “Y/Ln. You have a guest… With  a proposition for you,” the warden said, moving aside to make room for a man behind him. This “guest” wore a pressed suit and his eyes hid behind sunglasses propped up on his face like the poster boy for some secret agency. The man held a file with him that he  dropped onto the small table in front of you.

You didn’t answer immediately. You’d heard enough rumors around the penitentiary. Deals made in the shadows, trades that only the desperate and the damned would consider.

“You’ve been selected for a special mission,” the guard continued. “A chance to get out of here alive.”

Despite everything, your brow raised in intrigue. “Get out alive?”

“That’s right,” the guard replied, pushing the file closer. “We need you to become someone else,” the agent continued, his tone casual, as if talking about a simple job. “More specifically, we need you to impersonate Boon Ballou.”

You stopped fiddling with the corner of the manila folder. “Boon Ballou?” You had heard the name. Everyone had, human and hybrid alike. The infamous drug and arms dealer with charisma that could charm a snake and a temper that could end a life. The kind of person who operated in the shadows of the world, pulling strings and ruining lives. “I’m sure he’s probably off in the Bahamas doing fuck all, ain’t he? Why don’t you just go and hunt the real thing down and leave me out of it?”

The agent's words were blunt and left no room for debate. “Because Boon Ballou is dead. He was killed a year ago during a botched escape attempt from a Colombian prison.”

Well that was definitely a reason…

“No one other than the authorities knows this information. So that’s why you’re gonna slip right in to assume Boon’s identity, Y/n”

They sure sounded like they had this all figured out for you. It didn’t even sound like you had a choice. “I don’t even look like him,” You eventually spoke up, your voice laced with wariness and a bit of disbelief.

The agent smiled, a cold, calculating expression. “I’d beg to differ. Aside from you both bein’ crooked crocs, you got the same general build and the same scales. You two even have the same damn face, Y/Ln. You could walk right into his operation, and no one would know the difference.”

“I’m sorry, can we double back to the part where you want me to play a dead guy?” You leaned forward, your voice laced with incredulity. “Why do you even want me? Is it slim pickins out there in Quantico or wherever the hell you’re from?”

The warden smacked you upside the head as the agent ignored your jab and opened the folder after he flipped it around.

You stared at the folder, reaching your cuffed hands forward to leaf through its contents. Photos of Boon, the swagger in his walk that translated even through static photographs. The designer suits and gold chains he wore glinted in the light of the pictures taken in the daytime. The file also had pictures of Ballou’s associates, with detailed entries on Boon Ballou’s exploits, his connections, and his patterns of behavior. There was even a small baggy that held the gold custom-made piercings he’d had in his face. Hell, it was as if his entire existence had been reduced to these documents.

There was one photo that caught your eye: a woman, stunning, with dark brown hair and the telltale piercing eyes and scaly accents of a snake hybrid. Wanda Maximoff. She was listed as one of Ballou’s last known lovers, someone he’d had a deep connection with before his rather lackluster death.

“What do I get outta this?” You quipped, your voice sharp.

“The deal’s simple. We get you in with Boon’s crew, and get you close to his operations. You help us take down Ballou’s empire, take down the members of his circle who’ve also been slipping under our radar for years, and put this shit to bed dead in the dirt. They have one of our operatives captive as we speak, and your final test will be the trade off to get our guy back in exchange for you. All of Boon’s biggest players should be there, so this is a one and done deal. You play this right, you walk free. No more death row. No more prison. You’ll be free to go with a clean slate.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And if I fail?”

“You won’t,” the guard said, his voice suddenly cold. “You’ll be dead before you realize you made a mistake.”

----------

Eight months later

It wasn’t as easy as it sounded… And it didn’t even sound easy in the first place-

You had to change everything — your voice, your mannerisms, the way you carried yourself. You’d spent the last few months in seclusion, with a team of experts helping you get the look just right. Every detail was crucial.

You idly fiddled with the two new golden snake bite piercings while biting the inside of your lip. They were the first thing you were made acquainted with damn near right after your agreement left your mouth. You got new ink months ago too, all pieces the OG Boon had, but they weren’t nearly as much of an adjustment as the fucking metal in your mouth.

The cosplay aside, Boon Ballou wasn’t just a name; he was an institution. Every piece of the kingpin’s past had to be learned and studied, every habit adopted. It was like walking around with your gut sucked in until you forget you were doing it at all.

Nobody even called you Y/n anymore.

You’d spent hours in front of a mirror, practicing Boon’s sneer, the tilt of his head, the slow drag of a cigar between his fingers. Your diet had shifted to match Ballou’s preferences — whiskey instead of beer, crawfish instead of steak.

You were fed stories of Ballou’s notorious escapades, his love life, and, most importantly, his final days — how he’d disappeared from public view for more than two years now, last heard going off to The Philippines for business before his body turned up in Colombia where he’d very quietly died. Fortunately or unfortunately (depending on who you ask), the underworld kingpin of the Hollywood South had an operation that practically ran itself while he was gone.

And now Boon Ballou was coming back.

-----

Then came the night of the deal.

The night was humid, the sky hanging heavy with the promise of rain. Adrenaline coursing through your veins, you could hear your heart pumping in your ears.

The deal was supposed to go smoothly. Now dressed in Boon Ballou's signature black leather waistcoat over a suit, you stood surrounded by armed agents, the tension crackling in the air. You were about to be handed over to the waiting criminals, Boon Ballou’s people, in exchange for a government agent who looked like he’d seen better days. You didn’t know how long he’d been over there or what he’d seen, but it was painted thick on his face. The melodramatics aside, it was supposed to be a simple handoff.

But most things start off simple until they’re not.

You had been betrayed. You inevitably outlived your usefulness to the government agents escorting you across the territory line. They’d planned to shoot you while you walked across the invisible line, gun you down, and leave your body behind as evidence that the criminal empire was dismantling itself.

“Boon Ballou” was meant to die here and tonight.

The first shot came from behind you. For the first time in your life, you felt a real rush of fear. But you had a way of surviving. You didn’t think—you just acted, charging through the chaos and breaking free. You spun, using your tail to knock an agent off their feet and then tore through the surrounding chaos, all teeth and claws. Gunfire erupted around you, but your strength and speed had always been your advantage. You were a croc, after all—built for survival.

You dashed into the thick shadows of the bayou, moving through the dense foliage, but no matter how fast you ran, the shots never stopped. In the distance, you could hear the shouts of your would-be killers as your massive tail sliced through the muck and submerged beneath the murky waters.

For a long while, you just swam through the bayou, the only sound being your own breath and the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. Eventually, when you surfaced against the endiscript bank, you caught sight of a blacked out SUV. You weren’t sure if it’d always been there, but an owl hybrid, grizzled and rough-looking, stepped from the cover of the nearby truck. His eyes locked onto you, recognition sparking.

“Boon?” the man asked, his voice low but urgent. “That you?”

You didn’t respond verbally at first, still catching your breath. Nobody called you by your name anymore, but it startled you how quick you responded to being referred to as Boon Ballou.

“Get in, man. ’Less you tryna get shot out here. You straight?” The barred owl grabbed you by the arm, still soaked, and pulled you toward the SUV. 

That seemed to pull You out of your stupor. “I’m fine,” You grunted, your voice rough, trying to mimic the deeper tones of Boon’s Southern drawl. “Just get me outta here.”

 "Two years talkin’ to nobody an’ ya still act like youse untouchable." the older man grumbled as he opened the back door to the SUV and ushered you inside. As you sat in the back of the vehicle in wet clothes and squelching boots, you watched the glimmering lights coming from the edge of the French Quarter. This city was now both your prison and your possible salvation.

As the car screeched to a halt outside a lavish estate, Your mind was spinning. The game had just changed. The owl hybrid that drove you here got out of the van and opened the car door for you to get out, both of you walking up the steps leading up to the front door.

Inside the house, amidst the luxury and wealth that seemed so far removed from the prison cell you’d left behind, you found yourself face-to-face with her. Wanda Maximoff.

Her eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, you saw something in them — something that made your breath catch. The woman who had once been Boon’s lover, the woman who had been a part of Ballou’s past.

But now, she was standing in front of you, looking at you with the same intensity.

This is the woman that Boon Ballou left behind.

And in that moment, you realized something: You weren’t just impersonating the deceased croc. You were responsible for breathing new life into his name.

You were Boon Ballou now. And in this world, that might just be the most damning thing of all.

“You’re back,” she said softly, her brows furrowed in disbelief and voice trembling slightly.

You swallowed hard, your heart heavy. You were way beyond your depth. You don’t know how to run a fucking drug ring. Sure you studied for the test, but you didn’t know a damn thing when standing in front of people with no choice to interact. You couldn’t go back out. There were no takesies backsies. Not if you wanted to live. And when everything you’d worked for for over half a year, when your freedom depended on her and all the people around her believing that you were Boon Ballou? You have no choice but to step up to the plate.

So, you lied. You embraced her.

“Wanda,” your voice was rough with just a hint of unspoken guilt as your fingers brushed the deep red scales that fanned across the outside of her neck and her cheekbones as they gleamed even in the warm, dim light. You didn’t have to pretend to admire her. You’d run into a lot of snake hybrids in your own time, but you hadn’t met one that had so quickly held your attention like she did. That tempted you toward her gravity like she did.

“I’m back.”

No one knew Y/n, the orphan slated for lethal injection. They only knew the man that was their lover, their boss, their friend, and even their rival. Could you really fill those shoes when your foot was essentially forced into them? And more importantly—could you survive long enough to figure out your next move, or would the past of a dead man, and the lies that came with it, consume you until there was nothing left of you?

You were playing a game with stakes that were beyond deadly– and if Boon Ballou proved anything, he proved that no one gets to play forever.

You remember seeing the world through younger eyes. The scene around you is blurry and out of focus with only the barest hint of awareness of tears running down your face. The only thing you can make out is a man’s back, his imposing stature, his cropped hair, and how his figure seems to get smaller and smaller as he walks away from you. His apathy is the clearest; his steps never falter, not does her look back at you. You feel like an outside viewer as you watch a hand, your hand, continue to reach for him. You fight in another person’s grip as you're being dragged away.

“Baba please! Help me, I don’t wanna go!”

The lack of response through the high winds only made your yelling feel louder before your vision was then blocked by a hood over your face. Even if you couldn’t identify with the anguish anymore it still hissed at your nerves, grasping and pulling at you like a desperate whore for your attention…

The continued thump, thump, thumping sound throughout the room brought you back into the moment as you continued pounding the woman beneath you into the velvety couch cushions beneath. The woman’s wavy red hair splayed out and her nails digging into your shoulders as she let her moans fall from her mouth in an unending stream.

She gave a shout as she hit her orgasm and you watched her green eyes glaze over as she gave you a hazy smile, you returned a smaller one of your own. One of her hands slid up your chest to caress your throat, fingers running over the scarring coating the entirety of it.

Her eyes scanned yours in open concern. “Is everything okay? Where did you go just now?”

You merely squinted, “old-times...’s still loud.” Your voice came out gravely and with a creek.

With your thumb caressing her waist, you leaned back to sit upright before using a hand to move her half-unbuttoned blouse further down her arms. With more of the redhead's skin exposed and your head still swimming, you went back in to leave kisses ranging from her neck, down to her collarbone, and even further to the valley of her breasts. You felt the woman's hand take the back of your neck to have you take one of the mounds in your mouth.

The hand you had resting on the woman's waist moved to squeeze her thigh while you eased your strap out of her with a few more slow strokes. You released her flushed nipple with a small plop, your saliva slightly glistening in the light of the office space before you slid off of the couch to the floor.

Getting to a kneel, you keep your gaze on the eyes of the woman in front of you while reaching down by her ankles and fully removing her already ruined panties.

A glint sparks in your eyes as you stare at her still dripping pussy. You lick a stripe up her entrance before lightly sucking on her clit, causing the woman above you to jolt with a gasp.

The woman watches you go back to eating her out with a small crackling chuckle. "You love this, don't you?"

You only look up to meet her eyes, your mouth still working on her. You blink slowly before doubling your efforts on her pussy.

Her head falls back as she continues to buck into your mouth. "Yesyesyes, hah, just like that baby," She isn't especially loud, but the pleading laced in her voice is what drives you to your own brink.

You sink into the moans that come from her lips, soon turning into breathless whimpers as she brings your head impossibly closer to her heat. As ribbons of red made their way into your ears, you let her fog invade your mind and take over.

Everything else melted away into oblivion. You were older now as you watched the tattered dirt path become peaceful grasses, the people became well-rooted trees in full bloom. Armored cars and loaded rifles dissipated into mere accents of a pleasant scene. And at the center of it all, was the same woman as now. her velvet greens staring back at you with a warmth that could make the Niganda sun seem cold.

The redhead's grip tightened in your hair as her movements became more erratic against your face. You brought a hand up to play with her clit and work to bring her over the edge again.

Things were much simpler this way. No confusing flashes of people you don’t remember, no random jolts of phantom pain. You were sure to live in the moment, and your most recent memories didn’t hurt you to think about and when the details became fuzzy you almost missed them.

Your head rested on her inner thigh after you helped her ride out her high. Her finger rubbed just beneath your eye as your eyes locked, reveling in each other. "There you are, right here with me."

And it was all because of her. Wanda.

Wanda held your chin in her hand before she swiped her thumb over your bottom lip and tasted herself. Even with a fresh afterglow setting in, the fire in her eyes never abated. Wanda's power was always there.

That same energy that let her linger in your mind and relieve you of that lost momentum and gave you stability to latch for. You’d do anything to keep that. You’d do anything to keep Wanda.

As you helped her get her panties and skirt back on and make sure the back of her skirt was the front again, your mind was calm at a gentle hum, distant screams of the past going ignored as you helped fix up the couch of her associate’s office.

----------

Wanda’s mood had noticeably soured since you’d had your fill of each other. Her face had become a mask of neutrality with traces of agitation she just couldn’t seem to remove as she flipped through the papers settled on the desk. It was less decorated than her own; she’d hardly spared a glance at the few picture frames placed on top of the hardwood either. She didn’t want to see more than she’d had to for the day.

Standing up from the leather couch settled on the side of the room, you wandered around the rather plain space aimlessly, looking at the fully stacked bookshelves, more than half the titles going over your head with disinterest. Settling by where Wanda was seated, you faced the door as you heard incoming noise before the doorknob could even jostle.

Murky blue eyes startled as he caught sight of the two of you in his office. The older man wheeled himself further into his office before having the door shut behind him. Your eyes stayed on him, unwavering. “Wanda, to what do I owe this unexpected visit? I was called out of a very important-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Better yet, who do you think you are, Xavier?” Wanda wasn’t interested in wasting time with false pleasantries.

“What exactly are you referring to, Wanda? I’ve done nothing but do as you’ve asked.” Wanda carefully kept her face blank as she observed the bald man.

“Keeping a wire on not only my vehicles, but my associates’ as well. Getting your grunts to try and tap my phone calls. They’ve gotten especially sloppy within the past few weeks, by the way. You should talk with Scott about that. All this to gain the favor of one Mr. William Stryker,” She placed the photos one of her skulkers took from their meeting a few nights ago on the table.

“Is that exact enough for you, Charles?”

You watch the man’s shoulders tense, a crease forming in his brow. You can clearly smell his nerves building while Wanda is still deathly calm. Her hands stay steepled in front of her face by her mouth, her eyes squint every now and then as she continues to observe the man.

“I've only given false information I assure you-”

“I know it is, because I basically spoon fed it to you and your men. You know nothing I don't want you to EVEN with you haphazardly bugging my house. Now, what I want to know is how you didn’t think I’d catch on. Do you think I’m stupid, Charles?” There is a noticeable edge in her voice now and the hairs on the back of your neck began to bristle, reacting to her aggravation.

Charles spoke up quickly “It was a part of the plan to have eyes in higher places, for the sake of all mutants, Wanda!”

The accent of her voice grew thick as her tone dropped lower. “Do not try to insult my intelligence, old man. You’ve done things here and there to try and undermine my headship when you think I won’t notice, but you will not pull this. Stryker is a sad little leech who wants to eliminate us all and has no qualms about being vocal about it. You want to try and make nice, fondle the balls of a man who wouldn’t bat an eye to exterminate mutants? You simply won’t be classified among us.”

As Wanda spoke those last few words, you watched as a familiar red aura surrounded Charles, her eyes glowing bright as Charles howled in pain as a pale blue aura rose out of his body where he sat. You almost thought Wanda was going to kill him then and there before his screams settled down.

Charles was breathing heavily, his form hunched over in his chair before his eyes widened with realization. “My powers…”

“You wanted to appease the mortal man, now you can live and die counted as one of them. Your bootlicking wife will be too once my people find her.”

“Hee-he-hick,” A feral giggle erupted from your mouth as you watched him carry on belligerently.

“You leave Moira out of this! we’ve done nothing but look out for you, Wanda! Your father would-”

“What did I say about insulting my intelligence? You and my father were at odds throughout his entire headship. You know nothing of what he would do nor what he would want.”

She slid more photos onto the table, the other man in them tickled something in your throat as recognition passed through you.

Wanda tapped on the man's face with her pointer finger, "This man. Tell me where he is."

Charles peered over to look at the photo, his nerves a bit all over the place. "Pierce? I've no idea Wanda, he's been gone for days now. You have to believe me,"

Wanda tutted her tongue as she brought her hands back in front of her. "I don't have to do anything, but I do believe you. Unfortunately for you that makes you completely useless to me, Charles." She pursed her lips in a faux pout.

You could almost see the man shaking in his chair as he went on indignantly. You wound up tuning him out as he kept going on about loyalty and nonsense.

‘Do I kill him now?’

Wanda reached back for your neck, running her thumb over the scarring over your throat. “We’re just about done here, but Charles can see himself out, I believe.”

Charles couldn’t even properly understand what was going on right away because, one: He was in the middle of explaining how the original members of the syndicate needed to stick together, and two: He can’t read minds anymore. I mean, what’s he going to do now?

“You can go see if the college across town has any openings, but you’ve been relieved of your position with Maximoff Unlimited as well as the Scarlet Syndicate which will be vacant as of today, effective immediately. Now you can roll yourself out of this office, or I can have Y/n here escort you out. They don't seem too keen on being delicate with you.”

You tilted your head as a choppy rumble passed your lips. The prospect of handling the man yourself was very appealing right now. Charles likely recognized this as he made his way to the door himself. Red mist opens the door for him.

“Smart choice. So you do have some sense left. Oh, and Charles?”

The man stopped in the doorway, but didn't turn to look at Wanda.

“The next time you try to throw me or my company under the bus, remember who put you in that wheelchair.”

Mutants. The next evolution in human genetics can manifest at any time and take many forms. Some develop their mutations when they're in the throes of puberty or while in adolescence. Others have had their mutation since they were born or haven’t had them appear until they’ve gone into adulthood.

In this world, humans far outnumber mutants in population, and people are more content to ostracize those who are mutants, as man has well been known to fear and even hate what they do not understand...

“Table seven is clear, hon,” You turned to see Miss Monica pointing to the back area. Nodding, you grabbed your rag and made your way to the newly unoccupied table littered with pools of water left by sweating drinks and crumpled napkins.

It was only maybe a quarter past eight, but the bar was already running thin with patrons. The quieter hum of voices compared to the usual clambering of laughter and muddled conversation clued you in to the change easily. As you cleaned, you caught a glimpse of the designated VIP section of The Photon Call. There you saw a small group that had been there for at least two hours now.

The woman at the head of the table was dressed in a form-fitting burgundy suit paired with a glossy black heel, blacked out sunglasses framing her face. A muted fruity smell with a hint of something else followed her stride. She came in with two men and another woman, who were all dressed formally. Monica merely nodded toward the woman when they came in before she had Jimmy lead them to the VIP area.

Looking at the group now, you noticed their “leader” of sorts had now taken off her sunglasses, moving some of her auburn hair out of her face. Her green eyes were just visible in the lower light. They had an extra person with them who was sitting across from the woman dressed in deep red. This man you remembered from a short time ago. he came in some time after the group he was now seated with. he was a bit of a crude figure, and he’d been rather transparent about his distaste toward you, his nose turned up at your short tail and pronounced ears as you directed him to the VIP area. You’d been privy to a few choice words muttered under his breath as well.

There was a light sheen on his forehead now that there wasn’t before, now that they'd all finished eating. His scent was more pungent as well; he’s nervous now, and a bit fearful. Though his posture is upright, there was a stiffness to his movements when he was speaking. It was a stark contrast to the others sitting at the table who remained confident and relaxed, though you noticed the growing boredom and aggravation from the head lady as she swirled the drink in her glass lazily.

When the gray-haired man finished speaking, the woman across from him simply raised a brow and checked the watch on her wrist. The other woman in the seat next to her, who was also a redhead, shifted in her seat. Her aggravation had been there since he’d started talking.

The leading woman set her glass down lightly, “Your offer has already been considered and denied, Hayward. I have other matters to attend to, so I believe we’re done here.”

The bluntness and brevity of her statement noticeably took the man aback as he floundered for his words. “B-but you have to understand, Wanda! This is for the benefit of the company-”

“What I understand is you can’t take a hint, Tyler. You call me out past my business hours, which should be well known to you, to propose an increase in mutant laborers as a ludicrous idea to increase production rates for my company. You also know my stance on such practices, which is why I’m left confused as to why you thought I would agree to it to begin with. I wonder if you’re having a gargantuan lapse in judgment, or if you’re really at the meeting point where bold meets stupid.”

The woman, Wanda, remained unflinching as the older man, Hayward, abruptly got up from his seat in outrage. Your hand slowed wiping down the booth seats as you noticed a spike in anger and resentment along with a feeling you’ve come to recognize as violent intent. The other redheaded woman shifted forward a bit, probably as a natural response. Hayward’s back was to you, and he garnered a lot of attention all on his own, so no one really noticed you move closer behind him.

“You don’t think you’ll defer to me? With one call my associates and I make motion to flip your company around on you so fast it'd make your head spin. So, I'll tell you what, you little bitch-”

It was when he went to move and touch Wanda that you restrained the man, your rag wrapped around his wrists and his arms behind his back. His right arm was now bent in a weird way, the connected shoulder probably came out of its socket, but that didn’t make you stop. All the while, Wanda and the people with her remained calm, if a bit surprised.

Wanda raised a brow at the actions of this new person restraining one Tyler Hayward. Now, Natasha warned her that her own senses were going off due to Hayward’s visible increase in anger, and she didn’t need to read the man’s mind to confirm it. Had he gotten anywhere close to harming her or was even capable of it, she would have ended him not even with a flick of her wrist.

But now she’s simply watching you effectively take the unsuspecting man to the floor, both of his arms were bent oddly and essentially broken at this point. A twisted growl streamed out of your mouth with sporadic hiccups here and there. Hayward continued to hurl threats at you as you kept your knees on the backs of his thighs, keeping him from moving.

Nothing seems to register as you simply looked up at Wanda and those with her, eyes shifting between each of them to make sure they weren't disturbed. You kept Hayward’s broken arms locked behind his back with one hand, reaching around and forcefully gripping his face with the other; shutting him up for the most part. You hunched over Hayward’s shoulder and turned his head to face you with your eyes meeting his, your eyes now giving off a dull orange glow.

Followed by what might be considered a misplaced giggle passing your lips, Wanda watched as Hayward seemed to fold in on himself. His thrashing to retaliate turned into a struggle to seemingly just get away from your gaze.

"Done yet?" Your voice came out low and close to his ear, and you heard his heart rate pick up further as your hand clenched harder in his hair.

‘Please, please, please! I don’t want to be here! I have to get out, dammit!’

It was odd for all of them to see this sudden change in attitude, no doubt caused by the mutant busboy who still had yet to say a word to them directly.

You looked up to see Wanda and those with her rising from their seats, the two men moving toward your form still holding Hayward to the floor. The old man was basically blubbering at this point, almost incoherent due to his erratic breathing.

“I believe Sam and Bucky can handle things from here. Do you mind?” Wanda’s voice was even as she spoke to you. You moved off of Hayward’s body and out of the way for, who you now know as Sam and Bucky, to heave him off of the ground. “Take him out back boys. We’ll let Monica know on our way out, give her a heads up before we send in the sweepers.” Her gaze settled on you as you stood up from the floor. You felt a spike of curiosity coming from the woman left with her that only persisted when Wanda stepped closer to you.

Wanda eyed you up and down as your eyes shone back at her. “I’d like to thank you for your assistance, regardless of the necessity. I don’t think I’ve seen you work at Monica's bar before,”

You gave a single nod, “I’m new.” Your voice was gravelly and clipped, Wanda noticing that there was noticeable scarring around your throat that would lead one to assume you sustained an injury of some kind.

Looking into your mind was its own venture. Your immediate memories were a mirror of the events that transpired, the people talking in them making unintelligible noises, not unlike the adults in Peanuts cartoons.

The further back Wanda looked, the fuzzier they got, like the hippocampus was affected directly. There were some that were clear as day: The day your father traded you to the prime minister of Niganda for his own freedom. Your first days under a “Dr. Paine” and your short-lived freedom after the lab was taken down. Some of your time in mutant trafficking including a few of the “masters'' who had you. A clear recollection of the man who had your vocal cords clipped for being mouthier than he’d like. The day you escaped, and finally to the day Monica found you wandering Mutant Town before hiring you here about a month ago.

These "core memories" were on a subconscious and grating loop in your mind so that you couldn't forget them. Everything else in between was basically lost as it was like trying to look through frosted glass. There was little direction and purpose other than surviving to the next day.

Equal parts distressing and intriguing to say the least…

As Wanda spent the last minute or so staring you down, your focus shifted to the woman behind Wanda. You didn’t catch her name, but you know she was a mutant based off of the distinct sweet smell complimenting her rainwater and pine trail.

They’re obviously close; she hasn’t stepped away from Wanda’s side once. Not too many humans would willingly put themselves in the company of mutants. Guess you can count this Wanda woman among those in the minority along with a few others like your boss.

When Wanda comes back to the present, she stares at you with a new light in her eyes as they dipped down to your nametag. “I like you, Y/n. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other.” She rested a hand on your shoulder and suddenly you smelled a change in her scent- no, it became clearer.

Wanda’s scent was a sugar-coated apricot with a spike of cinnamon as it accented the air around her, then it hit you:

Wanda is also a mutant.

And somehow you knew you’d remember her for the long haul.

Solace for some is in the company of their own mind. To have time to recoup and separate from others. For some…

The streetlights highlighted your face as you stood in front of the building, your blank stare directed at the “Club 69” sign before going around to the back of the building. Brushing past inebriated patrons as you made your way through the cramped alleyway. You eventually reached another entrance with no one else around.

Walking up to the heavy door you watch as a small compartment slides open, eyes suddenly meeting your own.

Their eyes narrowed. “Special entry only.”

You held their stare, “I'd-....like in.”

You watched them eye you up and down for a second, “'You don’t need many hands to make light work,'”

Nodding along, you pulled your hood down exposing your face. You took a deep breath at the strain you were putting on your voice. “'....Need busy work-... for idle hands.'”

Their eyebrows quirked upward before the person behind the door closed the slot without another word. You heard the door unlock from the inside, the door eventually sliding open.

The person behind the door was a tall and muscular woman pulling down her face mask, her eyes changing with her pupils becoming side slanted.

She chuckled as she watched you work your jaw in the red hue of the hallway. “You’re back early, Y/n," The dark-skinned woman handed you a water bottle for your throat. "Should I get Violetta or Summer? I think both are free right now,”

Your ear twitched, “Both.... I'll pay more, Dee.” You stayed put after you handed crumpled bills to the bouncer. As you watched her head to the back, the moans from the occupied rooms already fogging up your mind. Just what you needed.

Dee comes back with another woman in tow. One that you vaguely recognize by the fairy-like wings that sprouted from her back and stood out against her honey bronze skin.

'Purply-pink bug wings = Letty.'

She sends you a smile as she catches sight of you. The corner of your mouth twitches upward as you focus on her taking your hand to lead you to an unoccupied room. Violetta blows out the scented candles that were left burning in the room. The lighting is dimmer, but your nose is more than grateful for her consistent attention to detail.

Violetta finally gets to closing the door, but she doesn't turn the lock as she looks at you from over her shoulder, "Summer is on break, but she'll be done soon enough. She heard Dee say you were here." Violetta strode over to you before planting herself in your lap. "Until she comes~ we can have plenty of fun ourselves, don't you think?" Your eyes focused on her own deep browns while your hands found purchase on her hips.

The pleasant fog began to build as you focused soley on the beautiful woman in front of you. Your hands tangled in the back of her dark waves as you brought her into a feverish kiss.

You fought against the ache in your muscles as you used Letty the way you needed to. You couldn't help but chase the fog that Letty brought with her contact, to relish in the intensity each of her orgasms hit her with while she tugged on your hair, the urge and the need to stay in the moment with her moans accompanying you out of the dark of the past.

This is your peace.

Neither of you stopped indulging in each other when you heard the door open, assuming it was Summer finally come to join. Violetta was the one to eventually look up and realize it was Dee at the door, not Summer. She lightly pushed your head away from her pussy to focus more on what Dee had said for the third time now.

You let go of one of Violetta's thighs as you turned to Dee and raised a brow in a mix of annoyance and confusion. “Mmm, what?”

Dee's face gave nothing away as she waited for both of you to be decent. "The boss wants to talk to you." Your eyebrows furrowed before looking at Violetta for some sort of answer. The winged woman only shrugged her shoulders, holding the bedsheet up over her breasts.

You got up from the cushy bed to put your hoodie back on and pick up Violetta's discarded clothes, handing them to her with a quick kiss to the side of her head. "You okay?"

Violetta let out a chime of laughter before she reached to caress your hand in her own. "I'm fantastic, baby. I'd be more concerned about myself if I were you though. Now, don't keep my boss waiting for too long." With a kiss to your hand, she lightly pushes you toward the door where Dee was patiently waiting for you.

Dee motioned for you to follow her to the back office, and you obliged while fixing the rumpled state of your clothes. Dee knocks twice before eventually opening the door.

Inside, you saw a blonde woman sitting at a desk wearing her own relaxed business attire.

“They're here, Yelena.” Dee stated from behind you now. The woman pulled the phone from her ear.

“Good. thank you, Dieufely.”

You were greatly confused now, ‘is there something wrong? Did I do something?’

Yelena eyed you up with a scrutinizing eye while she was on the phone until she hung up.

“It would be you, wouldn't it?” She was talking more to herself than she was to you.

Yelena got up from her desk and made her way over to you. Her eyes went from your pointed and slightly furred ears to your neck, which was covered by your hoodie. She went to pull down the collar of your hoodie when you grabbed her hand to stop her, leaning back slightly as a low rumble came through.

She made steady eye contact with you. “I just want to check something. Can I move this please?”

You slowly released her hand to let Yelena proceed as she moved to lower the collar and expose your scarred neck, running from the jugular notch up to the bottom of your jaw. The discoloring angry and obvious.

Yelena looked at the scar, nodding to herself before letting go of you. You moved the collar of your hoodie back in place as Yelena sent a message through her phone. Soon enough, another knock was heard at a separate door at the rear of the office and you looked over your shoulder as Yelena walked pass to open it. In came a familiar head of red hair, but this time she was alone.

“You rarely call in favors sestra,”

Yelena brought the redhead in for a brief embrace that she wound up returning after her initial stiffness.

The older woman sighed as she pulled away, “Well this is for Wanda, so that changes things.”

"Enough said. I will say it's unexpected, since Y/n hardly says a word to my girls, even as a regular.”

“I presume you know why.”

“Only until now. Not many people have their description, however, Discretion is a part of our policy at The Widow's Nest, you should know that, Natasha. It’s not my business. It still isn’t.”

"Well, you rarely seem to follow your own policy these days, so excuse me if I think differently." Natasha had a stoney countenance as she held Yelena's stare, the younger woman doesn't respond, but she also doesn't back down from the accusing tone.

You simply watched the two exchange words for the next while. The tension you'd sensed earlier seemed to have dissipated, so you allowed it. You didn't have anywhere to rush back to, and you were curious more than anything. Someone, presumably the woman that you helped at your job Wanda, was looking for you. Your eyes wandered around Yelena’s office, your interest quickly wandering. The two other women had yet to acknowledge you directly, but that was fine. Their conversation helped take the edge off, like white noise.

"She'll be pulling up soon to talk to them directly Now that they've passed her two-factor authentication."

And What does Wanda want with them exactly? I assume she's told you,"

"She wants to bring the unknown into our ranks. Wanda see's something in them that I haven't. She's been almost infatuated with them since last week."

"You believe that's all this is?"

That's all I can think it is. There are some decisions Miss Scarlet makes that even I don't understand. Not fully anyway." Natasha was exasperated, not at anyone in particular, but at the situation. She could never fully settle without having all the details of a plan. Hopefully the waters will be less muddled once Wanda makes her intentions clearer.

Another round of knocking comes from the rear office door, and Yelena goes to open it, revealing the woman you helped however long ago: Wanda. She takes her sunglasses off of her face, placidly folding them before setting them on the desk..

Wanda turns to Yelena first, giving her a brief embrace as well. "Thank you for looking into this matter for me. I do hope this didn't disturb your business, Yelena."

Yelena shrugs her shoulders impassively, "Not at all. my people just happened to be closer to this than I previously thought."

Wanda then shifts her attention toward you, who had yet to make their presence known while silently sitting in one of the extra office chairs.

"Ah you, Y/n. I hear you line the bras of all of Yelena's girls. Must be difficult to do with a job in a mutie diner." Wanda's tone is deceivingly conversational. Monica can't afford to pay well, and she has it on good intel that you don't work anywhere else.

You blink slowly, "I manage."

Wanda noticed a familiar orange gleam in your eyes; the same glow that made Hayward curl up and blubber well into his old age. Your eyes weren't as bright now, only a slight tinge was visible outside of your normal color. Curiosity drew Wanda back to your mind to find the answers for herself.

The orange glow your eyes cast was a second mutation you'd developed after being auctioned off to America. This mutation gave you the ability to draw fear out of others. By simply observing someone, you could pinpoint one's personal vices and reflect them back at your target to get them to cave in on themselves at varying intensities. Much different from simple intimidation.

From what Wanda could glean, you were semi-aware of this ability and how to use it and it only worked on the weak willed, and those you viewed as lesser than you. But there is much potential Wanda sees in you. Potential that Wanda can use.

The more Wanda prods around in your head, the number your memories feel, not unlike during your times with Summer and Violetta, except their aura's didn't leave your brain humming like Wanda's did. You could swear you felt yourself salivating, something akin to ravenous as you felt Wanda pull away from your mind.

"Please-" Your eyes were intense as you looked up at Wanda, your hand loosely clasping her wrist to keep her close. "Again...Please."

Wanda cocks her head to the side, not just to get a better look at you, but to show that she was pondering her next decision. "Just one time, dear?"

You wordlessly nod, your eyes wild and unfocused.

"It could be as often as you want if you agree to work for me. Not just for me, with me to shape the world for people like us." Wanda is aware that she's dangling a carrot in front of your face, but it's a necessary one to ensure you have an incentive to join and stay by her side. Even if you're only half listening, Wanda would bet anything you would say yes if you were at full coherence.

The carrot was just her insurance.

Wanda grasps your chin between her thumb and forefinger, light wisps of red seeping into you through your ears.

"Follow me."

You watched as the inebriated man left out the back of the club, your eyes giving off a faint glow that stood out with the New York streetlights in the dark. You watched him stumble down into an alley before stalking after him from a few paces away.

Out of all the things that come and go in your memory, you would never forget this man's wrinkled face and his liver spots, nor would you forget his sandy brown hair even though it started graying significantly. Your ears pricked as you heard him swear under his breath while he fumbled around his pocket for his phone, likely to call for someone to pick him up.

You surged forward before he could even get a look at his wallpaper.

You grabbed the older man by the top of his head before shoving him into the side of a building with a dull thunk with his phone falling to ground. It wasn't enough to kill him, but he definitely felt the impact as he let out a loud groan.

You pushed his shoulders so that he was up against the wall with a choppy growl; just looking at the man in front of you irritated your throat. "Remember me?"

The orange glow coming from your eyes made the man wince. "I don't know who the hell you are, you freak! Let go of me!"

You would never forget his look of dismissal as you were strapped down on a medical table surrounded by two "doctors", screaming and yelling through the muzzle on your face.

"shut it the hell up."

You sucker punched the older man in the stomach as his face now began to meld with your memories of him holding the bloody scalpel over your neck in agitation, only making you angrier.

"I have to do everything myself."

The older man's yells got less coherent as his eyes darted around the alley before his eyes caught a glimpse of the scarring around your neck. His eyes grew wide and wild as he rapidly tapped your arm to get space to speak. "I remember! I remember you okay!- Please...fuck..."

You stood upright as you looked at his brutalized face expectantly while he tried to catch his breath. "Y-you were Klaue's investment! I can tell you where he is! Okay?! The procedures were all him and his people, I swear!"

You grabbed his head again as you forced him to look down with a cruel smile. Your unsheathed claws dug into his skin as you slowly squeezed.

"Remember. Me."

----------

It was certainly a messy scene of red. Your heavy breaths are visible in the cool night air. You were calm as you tried to wipe away some of the blood on your face with the back of your hand.

Your ears pricked upward hearing the telltale clicking of heels coming in your direction, the sound becoming wetter with the blood on the concrete.

“Done already?”

You don’t turn around, merely tilt your head looking at the husk crumpled on the ground.

“Mmh.”

Only when Wanda comes around in front of you do you pull your eyes away from Pierce’s glassy ones.

"...This good enough?"

Wanda hummed as she looked down at Pierce’s body, using the toe of her heel to put the body flat on its back. His exposed digestive tract now visible.

“It’s messy. Perfect,”

A strangled giggle came up your throat before you could stifle it. Wanda remained unperturbed as she came forward to rest her arms over your shoulders, getting the last smear of blood on your face with her thumb. "Did he say anything we didn't already know before?"

You shook your head while partially distracted as you heard more pairs of feet coming.

Clunky and fast; Kate. Measured and Steady; Reina. Light, steady; Unknown. The hair on the back of your neck bristled with that last one.

Kate and Reina were to make sure the block was clear of witnesses before coming down. The third person with them, a blonde woman in a fairly revealing dress, came up to Wanda directly. You only slightly relaxed at the notion that Reina and Kate would have handled her already if there was an issue.

“My people would have had this handled if you told me, Wanda.”

Wanda turned to the woman in white. “Pierce had the gall to come for my company directly, I wanted to deal with him on my terms.”

“I understand, miss Scarlet, though you can imagine my surprise when Natasha called me to make sure my club was cleared for the night.”

“Apologies again for the request out of the blue,”

The woman waved her off, “No worries, it’s your shit list.”

“I’ll be sure to let you get your licks in next time around. This one was rather personal.” Wanda’s voice was a bit lower as she looked at you out of the corner of her eye, " I wouldn't want you to dirty your outfit over this anyhow." She turned to Pierce's mostly disemboweled body and wiped the bloodied bottom of her shoe on the thigh of his pantleg. Wanda turned to make her way back to the main street.

The blonde woman fell in step with Wanda as you flocked them from behind with Kate and Reina. It was easier to listen to the conversations around you; Apparently, Reina was covering Clint for the night and Kate had a date with Yelena in Little Village coming up.  You tuned back into the two women’s conversation as they stopped by the black Audi that was used for the night’s events.

“We’ll have to meet over lunch, you, Nat, and I. Bring the chatterbox too if you want. Until then, I’ll be waiting for your call, Wanda.”

The woman gave Wanda a quick hug before she pulled her shawl closer to her body with the sudden wind chill.

“Expect it sooner rather than later. We have much to discuss and Shaw has become a growing thorn in my side with his bitching and moaning. At this rate he’ll have to be dealt with,” Wanda held your forearm as she lowered herself into the black Audi before turning to the woman in white again. "And Mallow comes with me everywhere."

The blonde woman stood outside at the rolled down window as the car’s engine purred to life, Steve sitting at the wheel, Kate was in her reserved seat in shotgun, and you sat in the back with Wanda as always. You pulled a bottle of water to temporarily soothe the dull ache in your throat until you got back to the manor.

“You need only say the word for us to get things moving, Maximoff. ‘We’ve all got the means,’”-

“‘It’s just a matter of methods.’ I’ll keep in touch, Frost.”

Wanda smirked at the woman in white as she stepped back from the window so it could roll up. Wanda settled back into her seat as she rested her head on your shoulder, removing her bloodied heels. Steve pulled away from the curb as you watched the strong stature of the Hellfire Club fade from view.

You watched from afar as the frail old lady hobbled her way back into her tiny cabin. The closest house was miles away, let alone a market.

You watched a dim light flicker on from inside with a static noise following soon after; she cut the TV on. You licked your chops in anticipation, creeping out from the tree line to make your way closer to the residence.

Silently coming up to the front window, you peer inside to see the older woman settle into a recliner with a steaming bowl of food ready to watch the tube. You don’t know how senile this lady is, but it’s definitely to your advantage that she’s not more aware. Looking around through the window still, you notice a slightly larger window cracked open over what looks like the kitchen sink.

It’s ballsy. A straight shot view from the main room.

Walking around the side of the cabin, you make your way to the kitchen window and slip your hand under the crack to lift the screen up slowly. There’s an audible *clack* when it goes all the way up.

There’s a cough and some shuffling as you stay stock still…

Nothing else happens.

You hoist yourself through the window, landing with a dull thud, The click of your claws on the rickety wood flooring was hardly noticeable. The TV droning on helped cover up a lot of noise no doubt.

From there, there was no real need to be discreet as you surged forward to maul the drowsy elderly woman. You were on her before she could even think to get up. Her half-eaten bowl of chicken and rice tumbled to the floor in a heap as you tore her neck open. Your other clawed hand ripped open the old lady’s stomach exposing its contents as she choked on her own blood. Her attempts to yell or even call for help were useless out here; her eyes were wide and mortified as she was essentially eaten alive. Bones and all.

The old woman’s head was the last to be devoured and you couldn’t even look at it as you shoved it down your gullet.

It helps that you don't know this lady personally at least.

Crunching on a bony hand that was left, you eyed the spilled food that remained lukewarm with the oily sauce trying to stain the unvarnished floorboards.

It could never compare to the full course meal you just had…

The scene had next to no sign of struggle, with all but a small collecting pool of blood and a smattering of torn and bloody clothes on the pleather lazy boy.

Before you could get to tidying up any evidence you could have left behind, your ears pricked up.

Footsteps and a light jangle of keys.

Your eyes widened as you made your way back to the kitchen sink to clean your newly shifted face and neck of blood, along with your hands. Finding a hallway closet, you tore off your crewneck before balling it up and chucking it inside. You were left in a black t-shirt and jeans as everything in the closet was either too small or too identifiable.

You pulled the flashlight from the top shelf along with your phone as you heard the front door open.

Turning around the corner, you call out to the person that's just entered the cabin, flashing the light in their direction. "Westview county sheriff's department! Keep your hands where I can see them!"

"Whoa wait! What's going on?" The person was revealed to be a brunette woman, probably in her mid to late 20s.

"I was called to check out a new missing person's case we got at the station. One Agnes Black. The trail led me to discover the scene here. I'm going to need to ask for your name and ID, miss."

You made sure to keep the interest on her for a bit as you tried to get yourself together to form a plan. "Oh! Um, Wanda Maximoff. Agnes is a family friend, she's the only one that's still around. Or she was… I tried to stop in every so often to make sure she's doing okay out here on her own."

You bury your nerves at the situation as you watch the young woman go to scramble through her bag to get her identification. She pulls it out to show you clearest day: 'Wanda Maximoff, twenty seven, NJ driver's license'. Designation: human.

Not a threat.

You look back up at her, " Right, well, this was the scene when I got here. No sign of forced entry, but quite a bit of blood."

Wanda raised a brow, " You came out to an unknown residence, in the middle of the woods miles from town, alone?"

You felt your face burn with embarrassment at her tone.

It did sound stupid as hell.

You cleared your throat, " I'm new. I guess I just… wanted a chance to prove myself I guess." In a sense this was true. You had just landed a job in the sheriff's department, but You didn't care to impress any of your peers in the slightest. You'd rather the woman think you an overzealous idiot, than have her build suspicion.

Wanda looked up slightly to squint at your face before a look of recognition took over her features. " You're Bigby, right? I know I've heard that name mentioned around town. The hot new deputy sheriff that came down from New York -"

Wanda's hand came to cover her mouth a bit too late, " or so I've heard, you know,"

You flash a bit of a pointy smile at the brunette before you scratch the back of your neck. " Well, for the record, Bigby is my uncle, my name is Y/n." If only he could see his "Lil Bean" now…

Wanda's answering smile with sheepish, but there was a subtle shift in her green eyes that you couldn't exactly place. " I wonder if he'd be proud or disappointed to see you follow in your family's footsteps."

You gave a brief laugh through your nose, taken a bit of back before Wanda spoke up again. " At least he never shat where he ate though, right?"

"What?-"

All you saw was a red mist passed over your eyes before you were knocked out cold, Wanda standing over your unconscious body.

—-------------

Waking up, you found yourself in what you could only assume was a basement or some other underground room. The cement floor and persistent draft lending to this as well. While trying to move around, you found your hands and feet bound together with chains. Your attempts to break free with your supernatural strength proved to be pointless against whatever this metal was.

The sound of a door creaking open had you halting all movement. " I still have to get things insulated down here, but my guess is that it's not even cold enough for you to feel little more than a breeze right now."

You can only stare straight ahead as you heard the subtle clop of footsteps coming down cobbled stairs from behind you. Wanda came around to stand in front of you with a subtle smirk and a tilt of her head.

Her diffident posture was long gone.

" Well, Natasha wasn't lying. You are pretty cute." Wanda firmly grasped your chin between her thumb and four finger as she moved your head this way and that. " Human meat must work wonders for a mutt's skin."

To be quite frank: you were terrified. All creatures that brought undue terrors or committed crimes onto others, especially if it involved the harm of humans, were promptly and harshly dealt with. The most efficient way being torture for intentions before death. Government authorities often worked hand in hand with the Purifiers in that way.

Wanda briefly rolled her eyes as she sensed your heart rate spike, most likely from fear. " I'm not with the human puritans, if that's your worry, Wolfie. More like an interested third party."

You took a small breath of relief as you could cross the worst case scenario off of your list of possibilities. " Then- what do you want with me? Did you even know that lady?-"

" You mean your dinner? Yes, but Agatha has served her purpose. She owed it to me after all," You turned slightly as Wanda went on. "And I want you, officer, to be my inside person while I conduct my dealings."

Your eyes narrowed at her assured voice, " and I would just agree to that right? Be for real, woman."

Wanda’s smirk simply stayed in place. " Well, I could just drop off all the photographic evidence I have of you scouting and devouring your last four victims, all of whom are on the missing persons listings." Plenty of photos fluttered to the ground, fanned out for you to see yourself at your most vulnerable. Wanda tutted her tongue almost mockingly, " such a sloppy puppy, they'd have a field day with you I'm sure."

Your eyes were frozen on the high-definition pictures of you hastily leaving a woman's penthouse, clothes still bloody; one of the few cases that you've filed after spending the night with them. Gwen-something. Jesus, wasn't this in New York? Her father was still looking for her when you moved away...

You vaguely knew that Wanda was still speaking. " And, if that's not enough, you ingested Agatha's whole body. One of my own reanimated corpses bound with a fealty clause. One could assume it had passed on to you. I'd hate for you to have to find out what happens when that clause is broken firsthand." Your mouth could only open and close like a fish as you thought through the whole thing.

You don't have an option. You really don't.

Wanda sauntered closer to your restrained form as her fingers ran across your shoulders. She leaned over till her lips we next to your ear. "Way to be thorough, huh, Y/n?" Her hands lightly smoothed down your arm.

You tried to keep your face as stoic as you could. "Fine. What do you want me to do?" Wanda patted the your cheek rough enough for it to be considered patronizing instead of soothing. "We'll hash that out in time, don't you worry your fuzzy little head about it."

"But details, details…" Wanda's voice trailed off as she proceeded to straddle your waist, your breath caught. " You must be relieved to finally have some familiarity, huh?" As Wanda continues to shift on top of you to make yourself comfortable, you feel an odd amount of pressure that causes you to gasp.

Wanda's mouth lifts into a sly smirk, " there we are. This will end different then you're used to, I'm certain. There is one other thing you'll have to get acquainted with." One of Wanda's hands runs down your shirt over your stomach before lifting up the hem halfway for you to see.

A new wave of panicked confusion would have had you jolting around again if Wanda wasn't holding you steady.

From your pelvis and spreading outward, we're visible black and dimly glowing veins under your skin. Staring hard enough, you could see them pulse occasionally before the anomaly seemed to fade into your skin.

And it was all connected to the strap on between your legs.

Still struggling to comprehend, you just about lost your ever-loving mind when Wanda gripped it in her hand.

You could feel it.

The new feeling of sensitivity you basically had you like putting in Wanda's hands. "Hah- how…" You catch Wanda's eyes glow again, and it was almost impossible to string two thoughts together with the constant pump of her hand.

" It's more than you probably deserve, but I'm going to enjoy bringing you to your knees this way." You whine involuntarily as Wanda takes her hand off to untie her robe.

Wanda's breasts were now exposed, nipples hard with a rise of goose flesh being out in the cool air. She lifts herself up and lines your cock up at her entrance, and you watch as she fully sinks herself down on it, and she doesn't move. For a good minute. The haziness goes away as you fully connect with Wanda. The pleasure you feel is immediate and you feel a familiar tightening sensation in your stomach.

Wanda leans forward, her mouth latching onto the side of your neck. God, she felt so full. Her hands come to rest over your shoulders before her nails dig in. She feels the muscles there a bunch up a bit before slowly relaxing. The moment Wanda starts moving, she gets a low grunt from you as the toy slides in and out of her pussy. Every stroke, every flutter from inside does something to you, and it's the most tantalizing thing for Wanda to watch and feel.

Your hands keep trying to break through their bonds as you feel your high coming up. You can't help but whimper from under the brunette as she keeps abruptly stopping right at the edge. " Please," Wanda's watched you struggle this whole time, but she all but stops writing you and she's plays coy. "Hmm? What do you want now, baby?" Her rhythm is slower, teasing.

"I'm so fuckin close, can I please just cum?" Your hands clench open and closed behind you in desperation.

Wanda hums before she purses her lips, making her look far more innocent than her actions would dictate. " I don't know, I still feel like you haven't learned your place, honey. You might even use those claws for something you shouldn't…"

"I-" she can see your cheeks bloom with a blush at the situation You found yourself in. You were supposed to be angry, fight back, hold your ground even! But Wanda held all the cards and you knew it. You both knew.

And it didn't take her much to get here.

" Please, Wanda. I just wanna make you feel good, I just wanna cum!- I... I won't try anything. Just please…"

Wanda, continue to look down at you before her smirk returns. " You say please really pretty, puppy…"

You sounded pitiful to yourself. Practically groveling to fuck Wanda properly and cum, but at this point? Pride be damned. The red was all consuming.

But there are worse things to give in to.