Till The Last Flame|| Wanda MaximoffxReader

1.

"You have one mission and one mission only. I want her dead. Take how much ever time you need, but see that you get the job done." The flaming demon commanded his best bet, his greatest treasure of all.

The Goddess of Fire, Y/n.

She kept her head held high, giving him a confident nod as a smirk made its way on her face, "Yeah okay, whatever. But Sursur, you should really get those horns of yours checked. They look like they would fall off with a flick of a finger," the goddess joked, eliciting a grumble from the beast.   

"It's a crown! And stop calling me that," Surtur whined as he anxiously touched the garland sat on his head, "Now go away."

Y/n chuckled to herself, backing away a little to acquire more space, "Okay, Cheetos. Calm down," Before Surtur could fuss again or point his Elderstahl (his sword) at her, the goddess had disappeared, the red flames that surrounded her body hiding her teleportation.

Surtur shook his head at the woman's wit, and even after thousands of years of knowing her, he couldn't fully understand the goddess and her quirks.

Her being the most powerful entity in the universe and also being one of the snarkiest creature out there, the goddess had layers and layers of mysteries to her—which at times intimidated him.

He sighed deeply, "This woman is going to be the death of me," said his deep beasty voice...

_

"Insane, inside. The danger gets me high. Can't help myself, got secrets I can't tell," Y/n sang the words to her favorite song, 'Play With Fire'—dancing and twirling as she walked down the busy streets of New York.

Besides the catchy beats, the goddess was sure that the buds of device that fit perfectly into her ears—playing the melodious tunes—were by far the best inventions by the mortals.

Earphones, as they would say.

Wearing a black 'Thrasher' t-shirt along with some grey washed jeans—which weren't the most comfortable, but they were the only pair she owned from the last time she had visited the Earth 616– she bopped her head to Sam Tinnesz's voice and made her way towards her destination.

Her steps soon came to a stop, standing in front of the three story structure, as she looked at the symbol—The Seal of Vishanti, at the top acting as a window.

Y/n noticed a wave of red going past the window, which made her tilt her head in curiosity. "That was...strange," she mumbled to herself as she went up to the dark door.

Placing a firm knock on the wooden surface, she waited for it to open up. "21st century and you would think they would have doorbells by now," she muttered to herself before the door in front of her slowly opened...on its own."Oh."

Y/n stepped inside cautiously, her eyes scanning the dimly lit mansion. "Helluuuuu," she called out, "Anyone there?" she stalked a bit further. "I'm just here to talk."

A smug smile adorned her lips as she felt a presence creeping up behind her, shortly followed by a tap on her shoulder which made her turn around. She faced the man, who stood in a stiff yet defensive stance, an uncanny look on his face as he observed her, "Who are you?" he spoke grimly.

As if that would daunt the goddess.

"Who are you?" she asked back, trying to imitate his grim tone, but failing exponentially to keep her chuckle in as she finally took a glance at his costume.

Blue colored robe with a belt secured around its middle and a red cape siting on his shoulders, which seemed to have the mind of it's own.

"I asked you first."

"Well, I asked you second."

The man with the cape groaned, "I'm Strange." he said firmly, keeping his 'scary dad' stance going.

"That you certainly are. I mean with that hideous get up and that self-moving cape-" Y/n started, but was stopped when the man let out another frustrated groan. Even his cape perked up, seemingly annoyed by the visitor as well.

"It's a cloak, and my name is Strange. Dr. Stephen Strange. And you're the one to talk about my get up when you're the one wearing a Thrasher t-shirt?" he retorted, making the latter furrow her eyebrows and look down at her shirt. "You are like 7 years late with that fashion,"

The latter frowned, looking down at her favourite t-shirt, "But it fits my personality," she said, tracing the outline of the flaming font.

"Yeah, well, this fits mine. Now, are you going to tell me who you are or do I need to find it out by myself?" he threatened, now levitating a little above the ground.

The woman snorted at his ridiculous attempt to intimidate her. She raised her hands up as if pretending to be scared by him, "No need to go all testosterone on me, Floaty."

Seemingly unimpressed by her humor, he started performing some sort of gestures with his hands. Just as he formed a rope from his magic and shot it towards the woman, she was quicker than him. Her own hands formed a similar rope, one with flaming fire, and collided with the magical one, easily overpowering his.

With a simple flick of the wrist, the levitating man was brought onto his knees. Another flick, and both his hands and ankles were tied with the fiery energy clasping them. The sensation and heat from the ties was enough to make the sorcerer squirm, but not wail in pain.

"You shouldn't have done that, Stephen." she husked, walking closer to the man who kept struggling against the hold.

"Don't they teach you at Kamar Taj to not attack strangers?" she smirked, bending down to his level and purposely tightening the hold, the heat now seeping through his clothes and burning his skin ever so lightly, but sufficient to make the man yelp in pain.

The torture was enough to make him subconsciously open the third eye on his forehead, immediately grabbing the goddess's attention to it. She grimaced at the disturbing sight, tilting her head to now meet Strange's gaze, "Darkhold, huh?" she asked rhetorically, even though she knew the answer to it.

The grip of her strains loosened, but did not let go completely. He took in deep breaths, the sensation much bearable now.

Evidently, the eye had closed on it's own, "I-I couldn't—" he looked at her warily, still huffing for air, "The eye, it-it makes me see people's souls. Their intentions, their entire life..."

"..I couldn't see yours. Why?...Who are you?"

Y/n smiled a sinister smile at the man, "Now now, Stephen. I don't think you are in any position to ask me questions." she said as she walked over to the feet of the stairs and sat on one, "However, I do want to finish this off as soon as possible, so I will answer your question—" she turned to meet his green-blue eyes,

"—The name's Y/n, Goddess of Fire. Pleased to be of your acquaintance, sorcerer."

A chill ran down Strange's spine— even her voice held power, he thought.

"What do you want from me?" he whispered, beads of sweat trailing down his forehead. The goddess sneered, clasping her hands together, "Now we are talking."

She decided to free him of his agony, the strains fading away into thin air with the snap of a finger. Stephen immediately rubbed at his wrists, using his magic to relief some of the pain, "What is it?" he pondered, glancing at the goddess sat in front of him.

Even though they had never met before, something told him that Y/n was not someone to make an enemy out of. He could sense the power she held, exceeding anything he has went  up against before. Exceeding him, or even the Sorcerer Supreme's powers.

"Now tell me," She began, her face falling into a serious look, one that could raise a hair or two even on the greatest sorcerer's,

"Where is the Scarlet Witch?"