Wanda Maximoff had spent years commanding the attention of nations at this point, but watching Charles Xavier struggle to contain his frustration had been the highlight of her day.
Now, she walked through the halls of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, flanked by Jean Grey and Storm, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since their conversation in Xavier's office.
Wanda smirked, her crimson coat billowing slightly as she glanced at them.
"Did I break something in that meeting, darlings?" she purred, her voice smooth as silk.
Jean snapped out of her trance first, clearing her throat. "You're... different."
Wanda laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Storm, who had been silently observing, tilted her head slightly, her piercing blue eyes locked onto Wanda. "You have a way of disrupting things. You don't just speak—you make people question what they believe."
Wanda's smile widened. "Ah, and yet you both followed me out of that office. How curious."
Jean opened her mouth, then closed it. Storm just smirked.
As they stepped into the courtyard, Wanda noticed Rogue sitting beneath a tree, laughing softly as she talked with someone.
Beside her sat a striking woman with platinum-white hair—dressed in a sleek, icy-blue jacket, looking every bit the calm and composed mentor figure.
Wanda's eyes narrowed slightly. She had never met this one before.
"Who's the frosty one?" she asked, tilting her head.
Jean glanced over and sighed. "Oh, that's Crystal Frost. She's... been getting close to Rogue."
Wanda's lips curled. "Oh? And here I thought I was the only one out here recruiting women."
Storm let out a small chuckle, but Jean rolled her eyes. "Don't start."
But it was too late—Wanda was already approaching them, her heels clicking against the pavement.
"Ah, young love," she mused dramatically, causing both Rogue and 'Crystal' to look up in confusion.
Rogue blinked. "Huh?"
Wanda smirked, taking in the way Crystal tensed slightly. Oh, interesting.
"You two make such a lovely couple," Wanda continued, her voice thick with amusement.
Silence.
Then—
"WHAT?!" Rogue sputtered, turning bright red as she practically choked on air.
Jean covered her mouth, clearly trying not to laugh, while Storm didn't even bother hiding her amusement.
Even Mystique—who had survived wars, assassination attempts, and Magneto's theatrics—looked momentarily horrified.
Rogue flailed her hands. "We—what—NO, IT AIN'T LIKE THAT!"
"Oh, darling," Wanda sighed, shaking her head, "Denial is such a tragic thing."
Mystique, for once in her life, was speechless.
As the laughter eventually died down, Rogue found herself sitting in silence, watching Crystal.
Her mind kept replaying Wanda's teasing words.
I don't like her like that.
She's just... nice to me. That's all.
But...
She listens. She understands me.
I can't touch anyone. But she don't seem to care. She still sits close. Talks soft. Looks at me like I'm normal.
I like that.
Rogue shook her head quickly, trying to force the thoughts away.
But now, she couldn't stop thinking about it.
Mystique, still playing Crystal Frost, sat beside Rogue, feeling deeply, deeply unsettled.
It wasn't Wanda's teasing—no, Mystique could handle that.
It was the way Rogue looked at her afterward.
There was something there, something real, and that terrified her.
Mystique had spent years hiding behind disguises, never allowing herself to grow attached to anyone. Rogue wasn't supposed to be different.
And yet, she was.
That evening, Mystique found herself standing in Xavier's hallway, her hands clenched as she stared at the door to Rogue's room.
She could still hear Wanda's voice echoing in her head.
You two make such a lovely couple.
Mystique inhaled sharply, then turned on her heel.
She needed to get out of here.
The perfect excuse? Magneto had given her an assignment.
It was simple—infiltrate Senator Kelly's office, gather intel, manipulate him if needed.
Easy. Routine. Just another job.
And yet, as she shifted into her next disguise, she felt something unsettling in her chest.
Was she leaving because of the mission?
Or was she leaving because she was running away?
Don't be ridiculous, she told herself. This is just a mission.
With that, Mystique left the mansion, disappearing into the night.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Wanda sat comfortably in Xavier's study, sipping wine like she owned the place. While Gwen, Natasha and Talia made themselves scarce to let Wanda lure in her latest victims or sisters as if they even have a choice in the matter when it comes to Wanda.
Across from her, Jean and Storm sat, still recovering from Wanda's earlier teasing.
"You love causing chaos, don't you?" Jean accused, though there was no real malice in her tone.
Wanda laughed softly, swirling her wine. "Oh, darling. Chaos is so much more fun than order."
Storm, raising an eyebrow, leaned forward slightly. "And what do you plan to do with that chaos?"
Wanda's gaze lingered on Storm for just a second too long.
Then she smirked, tilting her head. "I suppose I'll just have to show you sometime."
Storm, for once, had no response.
Jean, watching the exchange, shifted slightly in her seat, suddenly feeling very warm.
From a quiet balcony above, Charles Xavier sat in his wheelchair, looking down at the courtyard.
Wanda Maximoff had been here for barely a day, and already, she had disrupted his school's delicate balance.
Jean and Storm, two of his strongest X-Men, were drawn to her presence in ways they didn't yet understand. Not even Charles could understand this mysterious power surrounding Wanda and those with her the power of Yuri.
Xavier exhaled.
What worried him most wasn't that Wanda had an agenda.
It was that he couldn't tell what it was. (A harem!!)
As Wanda laughed with Jean and Storm, her red eyes glowing faintly in the firelight, Xavier knew one thing for certain:
She was dangerous to the unsuspecting women around her.
Join my patreon today to read up to chapter 408 on advance your support is my inspiration join for only 3 to 5$
patreon.com/everstone