#(and also yknow the selfcest thing and the mirrorverse thing)

[caroldantops]

you make my world spin

ship: scarlet witch(616)!wanda/soft milf(838)!wanda/little!reader

summary/request:  no plot, just soft mommas and their little one.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: MDLG (18+), selfcest ig. potential multiverse of madness spoilers? more like just allusions to it. but other than that just fluff!

a/n: Mommy = 616 Wanda; Mama = 838 Wanda. thank u to motts and britt for helping indulge the double wandas thoughts that plague my brain

Tendrils of red fly through the air as Wanda flips rapidly through the Darkhold. You watch in fascination, the sparks illuminating your face in a soft scarlet glow. Wanda hasn’t acknowledged you since you came down to the basement and crawled over to her, much too absorbed in studying the runes in front of her. 

Despite being content in the domesticity of her life now, no longer needing to use the dark spells to explore multiversal lives, Wanda still studies the magic of the Darkhold. She claims it’s to help keep the universe she’s invaded stable in spire of her presence and to protect your home if needed. It took a long time to convince her variant that she had destroyed any actual copies of the Darkhold, and what she had was simply her own creation from what she remembered, holding none of the corruption that brough her to where she was today. 

Mama Wanda always tells you not to go down to the basement while Mommy Wanda is casting spells, worried about you getting caught in any crossfire as Mommy haphazardly flings spells around the room. But Mama fell asleep on the couch after her third episode of New Girl, and you got bored after you could no longer show her the pictures you were coloring. You grabbed your favorite stuffie - the teddy bear that Mommy brought from her own universe, the one that was modeled to look like a cheesy version of her suit - and ventured down to the basement. 

You don’t want to bother Mommy. You know that the spells she makes are much more dangerous than Mama’s. But she’s been down here all morning, and you want her attention! 

Mommy most certainly knows that you’re waiting for her to say something to you. But she relishes that sweet pout that you give her when she’s ignoring you, so she draws it out a long as she can. 

You’re not feeling patient today, already bored and needy for touch. Mommy’s legs are criss-cross applesauce, as they usually are when she’s working. Perfect. You crawl over to her levitating form, placing your head against her thigh and gazing up at her concentrated face. 

“Does Mama know you’re down here?” Wanda asks without even sparing you a glance. 

“Mama’s sleepin’,” you explain, tracing the material of her red suit with your fingers. The dark splotches that stained it once have since faded, but you many of the cracks in the armor remain. 

“Hm,” she hums, knowing that telling you to go upstairs will probably result in a tantrum that she isn’t in the mood to deal with. You take her lack of orders to leave as permission to stay, so you immediately start climbing up to her lap. “Now, what do you think you’re doing, little devil?” 

“Gettin’ comfy.” You squeeze yourself in between her and the Darkhold, tucking yourself into her lap, struggling to keep yourself steady since her floating makes it harder to keep upright. Wanda grunts when you elbow her in the chest, and you freeze, looking up to see her clearly trying to contain her frustration with your wiggling. “Sorry, Mommy…” 

“Just let me…” she sighs, grabbing you and turning you around to face her, slinging your legs to wrap around her waist. You squeak, wrapping your arms around her as she adjusts you. As you do your teddy falls to the floor behind her, rolling dangerously close to the candles illuminating the room. Wanda doesn’t notice, focused on making sure you won’t fall out of her lap. “There, is that better?” 

“Wandabear!” You cry, making grabby hands at the stuffed animal. Wanda rolls her eyes as she flicks her wrist, levitating the toy back into your grasp. 

“Sometimes I think you love that thing more than me,” Wanda says, sounding rather unconvincingly annoyed. In reality, she loved how much you adored your “Wandabear” (as you uncreatively named her) because it was the first gift she ever brought you. Mama still teases her about how soft you’ve turned Mommy. 

You finally calm down, satisfied with your Mommy giving you the attention you were craving. Your thumb makes it way to your mouth without you realizing, Wanda’s heartbeat and soft mumbling to herself lulling you to sleep. 

When you wake up, you find yourself on the couch, with no Mama or Mommy to be seen. You can hear moving around in the kitchen, so you assume that they must be in there. Wandabear is tucked under your arm, and a soft handknitted blanket is draped over you. We Bare Bears is playing softly on the television, drawing your attention for a few minutes. One of the Wandas - probably Mommy - must have clipped your pacifier to your shirt. You slip it between your lips, fingers twirling the loose threads of the blanket as you watch your show. 

A clatter from the kitchen makes you jump, clutching Wandabear close to your chest. “Mama? Mommy?” 

“It’s okay, baby!” Mama calls back. Even though you want to keep watching your show, you’re lured into the kitchen by the thought of food being made. Mommy and Mama are both making ingredients and dishes fly around the kitchen with their magic, and you playfully try to grab the bag of Goldfish that floats by you. “You’re going to get hit in the head with the way Mommy’s flinging things around, baby. Let’s go sit at the table while we finish making lunch, okay?” 

“Okay, Mama,” you agree, plopping yourself on your soft cushioned seat at the table while you watch Mommy and Mama fuss over whether to give you your cookies before or after you eat your sandwich. You place Wandabear in the seat next to you, scooting a plate of plastic food that you refuse to let Mama take off the table towards it.

A gentle hand grabs your attention by stroking your hair, and you bounce happily as Mama places your plate on the table. Mommy comes over with both their plates, setting them up on either side of you (after moving Wandabear to sit next to you at the head of the table). You start shoving Goldfish in your mouth before you realize that Mama forgot something very important. 

“Mama, crusts!” You pout at her. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Mama sighs, getting up to grab a knife from the drawer. 

In the meantime, Mommy starts hand-feeding you the crackers, smiling at the way your lips wrap around her fingers when you take a bite. “Mama has such a bad memory sometimes, doesn’t she, little one?” 

“My hearing, however, is perfectly fine,” Mama says as she sits down and starts cutting your sandwich. You miss the playful glare that Mama gives Mommy, too busy grabbing your sandwich triangle and stuffing it in your mouth as soon as the crusts are gone. “Slow down, darling. You’ll upset your tummy.” 

“Mmkay,” you say through the mouthful.

The three of you finish your lunch, and Mommy picks you up and carries you to the living room while Mama cleans. Mommy turns on a big girl show, but you’re too distracted by sorting through the drawings you started earlier. Mama finally finishes cleaning and joins Mommy on the couch, curling into her side. They both watch you color happily, humming one of your favorite theme songs to yourself and chewing on your pacifier. 

“Nothing happened while they were in the basement, right?” Mama asks Mommy too low for you to hear. 

“Wandabear almost caught on fire, but other than that, no.” 

“You know I still don’t trust the Darkhold. Even if it is just a copy.” 

“I understand,” Mommy says solemnly. “But you trust me to keep you both safe, correct?” 

“I do.”

“Good. Because I always will.”