The Avengers headquarters were getting uncomfortably hot, and Wanda knew she needed to get out of there. TV monitors on every wall, and the pictures on each one gave her major creeps -- the cameras just trained on each part of the snake-demon Set, his olive serrated skin that peeled back, his red burning varicose eyes, and fangs like ivory knives.
And somehow, Wanda felt like it was staring at her.
There was no logical reason for it. Just the way the snake's skin bristled, the amount of coffee that she'd had this morning before changing into her Scarlet Witch costume and heading down to the Avengers HQ.
Wanda sat down at one of the desks, across from Vision working placidly, and Captain America barking out orders to everyone from across the room. She looked up for one second, and made eye contact with one monitor that showed Set's eyes.
Made eye contact with it.
That you're not supposed to be able to do. To make eye contact with the people on TV. Wanda squirmed in her chair. She felt like he was looking at her.
One hand flew to her mouth. She tasted the vinyl of her glove and bit her finger; for a second, she didn't realize she was wearing her costume. Her lips quaked.
"Shit," she gapsed.
She stood up, maybe too quickly. Behind her was Tigra, who was looking at something onscreen. At the sound of Wanda's chair, she jerked her head up.
"What is it, Wanda?"
"Nothing," she murmured. The Scarlet Witch shook her head. When she did, her mass of brown curls quivered, almost too delicately. Wanda bit her lip. She looked at the monitor again, and it stared right back at her. "I just have to get out of here. It's one of those days."
Tigra nodded. Her fur flared just the tiniest bit, and she lay one hand on Wanda's left shoulder. She squeezed it through the scarlet cape. "Don't worry about it," she said. "I'll cover for you. Cap will hardly notice you're gone. Just get out and get some sleep, ok?"
Wanda nodded, turned around, and her cape disappeared out the doorway.
The city was being devasatated, and people were scuttling for cover inside anything. Before she ran out, Wanda slipped into a little white sundress, cringing for a second at the thought that she would be called upon as a superhero in any circumstance. Today she just felt lousy, tempermental like Magneto always got. She felt utterly dumb as she tucked her cape discreetly in, frowned at herself for being so irrational.
But that's what I'm all about, she told herself, catching a glimpse of herself in a mirror in the corridor. She hurried out and down to her car, and this chill rode up and down her skin. Not that she was feeling pressured or rushed or anything, but as she looked in that mirror Wanda swore she could see a reflection of the serpent Set over her face.
She knew it would happen when she opened the door. She knew he was waiting there, and she knew he was waiting for her. In the car, traffic was congested and she killed three minutes at a red light, and the waiting almost killed her. Wanda sat paralyzed, rubbing the wheel with her hands up and down, rubbing her bare legs together in the bucket of the driver's seat. The sundress was so light it barely touched her body, but Wanda felt tense and tight and anxious and when the light changed, she crashed right through it. She turned the handle to the door of her house, knowing she couldn't do anything about it. She was almost ready for him when she walked through the door.
As soon as she was in, one of the serpent's tails grasped the handle of the door and slammed it shut behind her.
Wanda gasped. She stood absolutely still, while Set hovered in the living room, almost bigger than the room itself, seven emerald heads grazing lightly through the air over her furniture. The biggest of all stared at her, unblinking. His red eyes seemed to take up her whole range of vision.
Shit. She was never good at lines at times like these. "You're here for me, aren't you," was all she could manage. Not even a question. Like Wanda had already decided: She knew it.
And she could feel the head getting closer. It was already huge but the serpent was narrowing in, surrounding her from all sides, and when she felt one of its nostrils brush the side of her arm, Wanda reacted.
She flicked that wrist instinctively. Her dress disappeared, and Wanda felt the familiar cling of her costume to her body. Her high-heeled boots gave her more of a hold on his height. Her hands and forearms were covered in her crimison gauntlets, the vinyl tight between her fingers. The jagged top parts of her moon-shaped visor pointed directly at the eyes. The two biggest eyes, the ones that caught her and never let her go.
She braced herself for the attack, and already in the back of her mind Wanda was starting hexes. Her fingers twitched. Concentration came naturally.
But then she heard Set's voice inside her head, and she knew it was already too late.
The voice was louder than any of her thoughts. It thudded like a headache. It told her what she already knew. There is nothing left of you, it said. There is nothing left of you already. Abandon the husk of your body.
We know how to use it, the voice said. She could feel its tendrils crawling around her legs, along her calf-high boots.
Wanda was preparing, mentally flexing herself for it. Her fingers jittered, and she licked her lips nervously. She knew she'd only have one shot to send herself back.
"No fucking way," said the Scarlet Witch, and she let loose a hex.
In the second, she was thrown out of his arms and against the wall and instead all she saw was a vague blue form where she stood before. Suddenly Wanda was at the door again, about to come in, and she turned the handle again.
And Set grabbed her again.
The serpent was furious this time. It grabbed her immediately, wrapped all six tendrils of its body around her, pulled her closer and closer to the main head, the largest head came until it was touching Wanda's nose and she heard the voice again and it said There is nothing you can do. The snake smelled like heat and evil.
"Nothing?" she said aloud, defiantly, her eyes shining.
I want you, Wanda Maximanoff, it said.
Wanda's cheeks flushed red. To know it deep down inside was one thing. To hear the snake-demon whisper it straight up in her head, its tongue flecking against its smooth slim lipless face, was quite another.
She stared down the demon. She felt this tingling run up and down her back, and then a ripping noise. Her white print sun dress fell loose on her arms, and then slipped to the ground with a shiver. All of a sudden, her Scarlet Witch costume felt very, very naked.
Wanda's head shuddered, and her red tiara shuddered too. She was tall, 5'7" at least, and her eyes followed every move Set made. Which was not much right now, he was just observing her placidly. Her cape flowed out in back, oversized the way she liked it, and wrapped itself across her broad sleek shoulders. A red translucent body-sock encased her form, and over it was a red one-piece vinyl jumpsuit, strapless, that stood out her figure in a sleek aerodynamic look. The suit came up in a sharp point above each of her breasts, and her gloves ran past her elbows and her boots came up past her knees. She had high cheekbones, and right now her face was very red.
Wanda felt the tip of one of Set's tails find the zipper at the top of the back of her costume, and underneath the cape started to unzip it. She heard the voice in her head, again:
Wanda.
"What?" she asked, still aloud.
Let me take you.
The Scarlet Witch heard the voice and she decided it pissed her off.
"Fuck you," she said. "We both have jobs here and I'm just trying to do mine. Your job is to destroy my world. Mine is to fuck you up."
I will, it said. I will have you. Either way I will.
Her spine flexed with the feeling Set's tail set into it; the constant massage of his tail on her spine and the small of her back. And he wasn't doing anything but sitting there, staring her down in her living room.
The tail lulled around her butt, running up and down just enough for her to feel it. It felt kind of pleasant to Wanda, in the weirdest kind of way, the way some things could just distract you like that in battle.
Then her nerves fired. It was no human, it was Set. And Nothing Set did was going to make her feel that way.
"Fine," she said through clenched teeth. "But don't expect me to give in either way, you aren't putting shit through my ass."
And she flicked her fingers in another hex, and this time she grabbed Set's head, Set's main head, in one arm and started to punch it with the other hand. Her hand glowed red, like it was on fire, and the snake-head started to burn where she hit it.
Almost immediately, the blows healed, and before her eyes, Set's form started to haze and grow fuzzy. Wanda held firmly to its head, and as it quaked and shook, the serpent changed form.
She lifted her arm away just enough to see what had happened. A face, pale and green, with dark hair that ran just down to his shoulders, blinked back at her.
"God I want you," he said. His voice was deep and husky, almost a whisper in her ear. But this time, despite anything that Wanda thought, it was human.
She continued to hold him, but his hands ran unthreateningly down her sides. Between her hands, the man eased his way down the Scarlet Witch's body, felt her hips, her forelegs, her thighs, with a grace that was easy and fine and rhythmic. The man's lips osculated her thighs with the barest presence, and pressed down again harder, and the third time the Witch almost raised her thigh up into his mouth.
He smiled up at her hungrily.
The man kissed her again, between her thighs this time, and she felt his wet tongue lick her gently. His hands came up again, wrapped themselves around each breast until he could feel that her nipples were tight and hard. Then they wrapped below her arms, and eased her costume off.
By now his rhythm was clear, marked, the way he eased the Scarlet Witch costume off her and rubbed her legs, which the Scarlet Witch slowly eased farther apart. Her eyes were closed and one hand tugged her own long curly hair while the other massaged her right nipple.
The rest of Wanda's body she left totally to him. He reared his head up, opened his mouth, and his tongue unrolled. It was at least a foot long, thin and firm, that came to a twin flecked point. The first time it ran across the Scarlet Witch's vaginal lips, she almost jumped a foot across her living room carpet. The second time, she just let out one low moan.
His tongue worked her as her legs moved farther apart and undulated even more, this deep quiet rhythm.
"Who are you," Wanda whispered in a low voice that was almost not her own. Her mouth was parched. Her moan grew louder.
She moaned even louder.
He shook his head. She felt his hair against her thighs, and she shot both her hands to the back of his head, drove him deeper inside. Both of her legs pressed against his head, and the material of her boots itched her thighs.
"Come on," she said.
"I want to feel you inside of me," she said.
Her clit pricked up, straight up. He grasped it with both sides of his forked tongue.
And he sucked.
"I want to come," she told him.
He started lapping faster, harder and faster.
"I WANT TO COME," she screamed.
His tongue shot in and out, in and out, pricking her clitoris like a bullseye. Each time he touched it, it got harder. Each time he touched it, the Scarlet Witch forced her legs tighter and let loose one more moan. She wondered what she was doing with her life when there were things like this out there.
"Then come," he whispered.
His head was caught in an L of her body. Her butt formed neatly the base of it, well-curved and pale, and her arms were still encased in her gloves. They felt hot and sweaty and she knew she looked like that, too, her whole body convulsed with each push, her thighs cried out like they were on fire.
"I want to," she said.
"THEN COME," he told her.
She cried out.
It was high and feminine and gutteral and primative, "OHMYGODOHMYFUCKIN'WORLD," she screamed.
Her legs shot together hard and her clitoris throbbed like wildfire. Her ruby-red lips trembled like an earthquake and she grasped the man between her hands, kissed him wildly and took his tongue in her wide-open mouth.
He took the kiss. He felt her high cheekbones and her firm sallow cheeks with his hands, drew her closer and closer in.
Wanda closed her eyes to savor it, to feel it fully, and when she opened them again the brilliant blue was dulled and grey. When she spoke again her voice was low and shallow. Her eyes were narrow and her hands were clenched.
"You've got me," she said.