Work Text:
You didn’t know the Scarlet Witch was in your country let alone your town when she takes you. Originally you were used as shield against Doctor Strange, the Scarlet Witch threatening to kill you if he didn’t let her leave, has turned into a hostage situation. Her magic feels strange against your skin, tight but not digging in. When she teleports away you don’t feel anything. No vertigo or pressure. One second you’re staring in disbelief as Doctor Strange stands down and the next you’re being shoved into a bedroom.
It’s small. The walls are made of wood and there’s a wooden dresser to match it. The double bed is has is messy, sheets askew and a pillow on the floor. You rush over to the dresser. Every draw has clothes except for the last one. You slam it shut, pretending not to see the numerous sex toys. You have no more luck with the window either. A red sheen covers it when you try to open it. You can’t even feel the glass.
Something crashes outside your room and you still. A heavy thunk follows, then another smashing sound. A wordless, scream of rage has you dropping to the floor, the bed between you and the door. You don’t know what the Scarlet Witch and Doctor Strange were talking about but it sounded like she was looking for something and Doctor Strange stopped her from getting it. You don’t want to be the first thing she sees when she comes through the door.
The rage outside the room eventually quietens into a perfect silence. You can’t even hear her footsteps It doesn’t ease you. You stay pressed against the wall, the bed beside you as you try to use it to hide. It won’t stop her for long if she does come in but there isn’t much else you can do. It stays quiet for so long you start to nod off, jerking awake every time your chin dips against your chest. It had been late when the witch took you and you can’t tell how many hours it has been since.
The door creeks open and your head shoots up. Peering over the bed, you see the witch slowly walk into the room. She’s in the same sparking outfit she had on when she took you. Something that looks like a crown frames her head. You can’t read her expression.
“Two days ago I would have already killed you,” she says in a scratchy voice. You shrink back down. “I have no use now that Strange has been distracted.”
You don’t know what you’re meant to do. What she wants you to do. Beg? Fight? Fight with what? If she could match the Sorcerer Supreme you have no hope.
“I— I could be useful,” you try instead, peering over the bed again. Useful for what you’re not entirely sure. She’s a witch. She doesn’t need a live-in maid.
She tilts her head. It isn’t a reassuring action. It feels like her eyes are burning into you.
“You could,” she finally says.
You open your mouth to ask with what but red curls around your waist and jerks you up instead. You yelp, squirming, but you can’t push yourself out of its grip. Your hands fly through the magic instead. You’re dropped on the bed from high enough to bounce. You try to launch yourself off of it but the magic pins you back down. It wraps around your throat tight enough to bruise. You stop trying to fight, too focused on trying to get in more air. She waits until she can see the whites of your eyes before she releases your throat. Gasping, you can’t do anything but watch as she climbs onto the bed. Her magic spreads your legs and she settles between them. The red that’s holding you down dissipates. Frozen with fear, you stare up at her.
“You don’t have to be quiet,” she says, “but you aren’t allowed to fight me. Do you understand.”
“Yes,” you croak.
“Good.” Her suit slowly seeps into her skin. “You may call me Wanda.”
“Okay, Wanda,” your voice trembles.
The resulting smile is honestly beautiful. It shouldn’t be but it’s soft and bright and so different to how she’s been looking at you. It settles into a soft mask. Her hands settle on your hips and your clothes disappear. Thankfully, they don’t seep into your skin like her suit did. They dissolve into nothing. Her thumbs smooth small circles into your hips as her eyes study you. You try not to squirm, worried she’ll take it as you trying to fight. You stare at the ceiling. One hand moves, almost curiously, over your chest. She moves like she’s mapping your body. You aren’t sure what to make of it.
Something heavy settles on your stomach and you look down. There’s a scarlet strap-on now hanging between Wanda’s legs. You swallow harshly. You knew what was happening the moment her suit disappeared but seeing it is something else.
“You don’t— I haven’t— Can’t you use your fingers?” you stutter out.
Her hands pause and her head tilts again. Nothing happens for a moment and then she lets out a quiet,
“Oh, it’s your first time.”
Which is— which is not the point. The strap-on looks huge when nestled between your thighs.
“I can’t use anything else. I’m sorry,” she says and sound like she actually means it. “It won’t work otherwise.”
“What— “ She shakes her head and you stop.
“You’ll see,” she says. Sudden red light draws your eyes down again. Red lines pulse on the strap, almost looking like veins. “Here, I’ll make it easier.” Fingers find your folds and you flinch. She makes a little noise of surprise when she finds you wet. It’s not enough to take her strap. Her fingers curl and something warm rushes through you. You experience strange sensation of your wetness leaking out of you and try to close your legs. Wanda’s hips stop you. She hums quietly to herself as she probes your now-soaked entrance. “That should do just fine.” She pulls her hips back slightly and guide the tip of the strap-on to your entrance.
“Wait— “ you gasp but she doesn’t. She pushes the head into you and your thighs clamp around her. You try to push her off of you but magic curls around your wrists and slam them into the bed before you reach her skin.
“I told you not to fight me,” her voice is suddenly much lower. You can feel it in your chest.
“Sorry— I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you say, chest fluttering like a hummingbirds. Her eyes look through you for another long moment before she nods and her hands turn soft again.
“It’s okay. This must be a lot, hmm?”
“Ye— “ she pushes in further and your voice chokes off.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.” She pushes in further and meets resistance. There’s a slight sting of pain and you look up at her with wide eyes. Her hands grip your hips and you don’t have time to gasp before she’s pulling you onto her strap. The pain is sharp and the feeling of having something inside of you is so strange all you can do it make a whining sound. She stills for a moment and you try to get used to it.
“Hurts,” you gasp as it settles in that deep place inside of you.
“I know. I know,” she coos, “but it won’t for long.” She thrusts in again and you cry out. “Poor thing. I really am sorry but I need to be deep for it to take.”
You don’t have the ability to work out what she means with so many new sensations hitting. The pain slowly lessens and you’re able to relax some of your muscles but the tightness deep inside of you doesn’t fade. Wanda’s thumbs soothe little circles into your hips again the whole time.
Slowly, so so slowly she inches out of you. The sensation is strange but not bad with the pain almost gone. You can’t help squirming a little but she doesn’t get mad at you. She pulls out until only the head remains inside of you. Her hands gripping your hips harshly again. That’s all the preparation she gives you. She thrusts into you just as harshly as the first time but doesn’t wait for you to get used to the feel of her this time. Pulling out and thrusting in again and again and again.
The burning stretch slowly forms into a burning pleasure as her strap hits a special spot inside of you over and over again. You try to hold them back but moans soon slip past your lips. A pressure you haven’t felt before is building inside of you and it feels good. Better than anything you’ve ever felt before. Wanda is making small grunting sounds above you as she fucks you, her dark eyes hooded as she watches your cunt take her in again and again. She lifts your hips slightly, changing the angle, and her strap pushes firmly against that special spot inside of you. That pressure inside of you bursts and you cry out. You can feel your cunt squeezing her strap. You writhe in her hold as she moans above you. Something warm fills you and you gasp. Wanda presses her hips tightly against yours, grinding slightly. Your own press up against her to unconsciously prolong the pleasure sparking through you.
She doesn’t move when you still, staying tightly spread against you. You lie limply under her, exhausted and sweaty. Her hand settles above your stomach, gentle and slightly glowing.
“That should work,” she murmurs, more to herself than you. Then she smiles, “But there’s no harm in trying a few more times. Just in case.”