#stephen strange has a heart | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vickiee-mcmuffin · 2 months ago

Note

Ahhh your requests are open!! You can write a smut where the reader is America's friend (of legal age!!!) and has a crush on Stephen. I would be happy if you can do something really dirty with dirty talk and creampie.

A little crush

Word count: 3.4k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Explicit smut, Age gap, Oral (F Receiving), (18+ Warning, Minors DNI)

Summary: You became good friends with America when you started your journey at Kamar Taj a few months ago. But you also found yourself having a bit of a crush on America’s carer, Doctor Stephen Strange.

A/N: This is a very old request, so I’m not sure if the person who asked for this is still here. But I hope you like this idea.

You were glad that it was America you had met first at Kamar Taj. She was sweet, friendly, and welcoming, and it only took a few months for you two to become best friends.

She was staying in New York with one of the masters: the one and only Doctor Stephen Strange. He had helped America out: saving her after a witch attempted to steal her powers. That was when Stephen became America’s carer, and since the two of you were so close, you often found yourself spending your days and nights at the sanctum. You’d see Stephen a lot, and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have a crush on him. He was a good twenty years older than you, but you found him so handsome, and there had been so many nights where you laid in bed having the filthiest of fantasies about him. There was no way you could ever tell America, though.

Just like a lot of other nights, you were staying over at the sanctum. You were resting with America in her room after a long day of training when the urge to down a cold drink hit you.

“I’m gonna go get some soda,” you told her.

Smiling at you, America nodded. “Okay.”

You began your journey to the kitchen, but that was when you made your way past Stephen’s room. The door was open with just the tiniest of cracks and you could hear music pouring through. You couldn’t help it when you looked through the little gap, gasping when you saw Stephen in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and one on his shoulders, his hair slightly damp from the shower. He was humming to the song in the background, and you found yourself staring. He was just so damn beautiful.

Suddenly, Stephen looked in your direction. Your eyes locked and you backed away fast, spinning on your heels.

“Y/N?” you heard Stephen call out to you.

But you ignored him, your cheeks bright red and your heart racing. You chose to just forget about your drink and scurry back to America’s room.

You weren’t sure how you’d face Stephen again.

******

A few hours had passed since your little incident with Stephen. You and America were deep in conversation when there was a knock at her door.

“Come in!” America called out.

Stephen pushed the door open, eyes darting between the two of you. “You two should get some rest now. It’s late and you both have training tomorrow.”

America nodded. “Okay.”

Then Stephen’s eyes landed on you, and slowly but surely, he ran them up and down your body. He shot you a little smile, one that made your body tingle. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

It was hard to fall asleep after that. After the way he looked at you. You tossed and turned, your mind not letting you forget how dark his eyes had got as he stared your way. You needed something to cool you down, so you hopped out of bed to get a drink. You moved into the kitchen as quietly as you could, pouring yourself some cold water, just about to raise the glass to your lips.

“What are you doing?” a deep voice asked.

You gasped and jumped, heart racing as you turned to see Stephen. “You made me jump!”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to know why you were still awake.”

“I just wanted to get a drink. I can’t sleep.”

It stayed quiet between the two of you, but your skin felt hot and tingly as Stephen took slow steps your way.

“Are you okay?” he asked, head tilted a little.

You turned around. Stephen was so close to you. Closer than he had ever been. You stared into his eyes before looking at the floor, feeling your face go all hot. You must have been blushing.

“I’m good,” you finally said.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, taking another slow step your way.

“No. No, you’re not.”

“Why won’t you look at me then?”

Swallowing, you realised just how close Stephen was. Just inches away. You could smell him. That deep, masculine scent. It made your whole body heat up. “I can’t tell you. It’s embarrassing...”

You felt a long finger on your chin, your head tilting up. You met Stephen’s eyes and just like earlier, his eyes moved up and down your body. Slowly, he leaned in close, his soft-looking lips by your ear. “I know that you were watching me earlier. I bet you liked what you saw, huh?”

“I… Um. Ma-ma-maybe,” you stuttered, unable to think of the correct words to say.

Stephen kept his eyes on you and chuckled. “Seems to me that a certain someone here has a crush on me, hmm?”

“I’m so sorry, Stephen.”

“No, you’re not sorry. I’ve known about your little crush on me for a while now.”

You had been caught. Really, you weren’t sorry. He knew about your little crush on him and had caught you red-handed with your eyes on him. You weren’t subtle or slick. No. You were painfully obvious.

Stephen pressed his broad body to yours suddenly, and it had you gasping.

“Stephen?” you asked, grabbing his arm.

“Tell me, Y/N. Tell me what you want from me,” he whispered.

“No, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“It’s… bad. It’s inappropriate. You’re so much older than me.”

Stephen laughed lowly. “Is it inappropriate that I think about you?”

Blinking at him, you gave him a wide-eyed stare. “You do?”

“Yes. A lot.”

“Oh...”

You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore after that. Standing on the tips of your toes, you softly pressed your lips to his. The kiss was slow and soft as Stephen held you to him, the two of you sharing a sweet kiss. But then you remembered your friend. The girl who had been so kind and warm to you.

You pulled away from Stephen quickly, your hands on his chest as you shook your head. “We can’t do this.”

Stephen’s brows pulled together. “Why?”

“What about America? What if she finds out?”

“She doesn’t have to know. This can be our secret. America is sleeping right now, anyway. I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

You could definitely keep the secret to yourself. You already had experience with that. Humming, you nodded at Stephen. “Okay,” you said. “As long as you promise to keep us a secret because I’m not sure how America would react if she saw us doing this. I never want to lose her as a friend.”

“I won’t say a word to her. I promise.”

You knew you could trust him. You kissed him again, pushing your tongue into his mouth, the kiss growing more intense by the second, his hands moving all over your body until he grabbed you and lifted you onto the kitchen counter. One big hand pushed through the elastic of your pyjama bottoms. He pressed a skilled finger to your clit, his finger circling against the wet, sensitive bud. You whined against Stephen’s lips, the feeling sending a spark up your body.

“You’re so wet, Sweetheart. Go on, tell me. Tell me what you want,” Stephen asked you again.

“I want you so bad,” you finally confessed with a cry.

“Good girl.” Stephen grabbed at you, picking you up from the counter as your legs wrapped around his waist. “I’m gonna give you what you want.”

He held you tight as he carried you to his bedroom. Stephen kicked the door shut and with a wave of his hand, the sound of the door locking hit your ears. He must have locked his door with some kind of spell. A second later, his tongue was back in your mouth, his grunts and groans loud as he got you settled on the bed. His eager hands tugged your pyjamas and panties off, and he took a step back, eyes moving up and down your body.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. His lips met your neck and he gave you wet, little kisses along your breasts and stomach, not stopping until he got to that spot between your thighs.

Stephen suddenly gave you a dark look. You locked eyes, the two of you almost staring each other down before Stephen finally gave you a cocky smirk. His tongue pushed out between his lips as he ran it right along your slit, right until he got to your clit. A soft moan fell from your lips, your back arching at the sudden feeling of pleasure. You brought a shaky hand down, dragging your fingers through Stephen’s locks.

“Stephen,” you whined out. “Mm, feels so good.”

You were being too loud. Your teeth bit into your bottom lip, trying to keep your sounds of pleasure muffled as Stephen kept playing with your clit. You had never felt anything so good. Your fingers gripped Stephen’s hair hard and tight, a fistful of hair in your grasp. Stephen wouldn’t stop. He just kept licking and sucking at you as you laid there, trying to keep your filthy sounds of pleasure to yourself.

But he managed to make it even better as he slid a long finger into you, curling it just right as he kept taking care of your clit. It was all too much for you. His lips, his finger. Another finger. He slipped one more into you, and then you found yourself clamping your free hand to your mouth to keep your scream low and muffled.

“Stephen!” you called out, the sound thankfully softened thanks to the palm of your hand up against your lips.

Stephen’s eyes met your half-opened ones and he smirked against your wet pussy. Then he carried on sucking and licking at you, his goatee tickling you with each second that passed. It just added to the pleasure. You were getting closer and closer. You could feel it. You were on the brink of your orgasm.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you whined to Stephen.

Stephen began to pump his fingers into you at an impossible speed once you said that. He wouldn’t stop. He just seemed so focused on giving you nothing but pleasure. You rocked your hips against his face, so desperate and eager to cum. His nose began to rub up against your sensitive bud, his tongue lapping at your pussy lips. You just couldn’t control yourself anymore. You came right then and there, crying out loudly behind your hand as the pleasure hit you. Stephen didn’t take his lips off of you, though. He kept licking and sucking at you, dragging out your orgasm and making it last as long as possible.

Panting wildly, you allowed yourself a few moments to calm down. Your pussy still felt so sensitive as you looked down at Stephen, his lips and goatee glistening with your pussy juices. He pulled his fingers from you and moved up your body, pressing his lips to yours. You could instantly taste yourself right there on his mouth. It was filthy but in the best way possible.

Shoving your tongue into Stephen’s mouth, the two of you laid there kissing one another hungrily. But Stephen suddenly pulled away and stood up. He smirked at you as you watched him pull his clothes off in a second flat. You gasped when you saw how big he was: thick and long and veiny. You wanted to feel him inside you badly.

Stephen got settled on his knees in front of you, keeping your legs spread before he grabbed his cock, pumping himself up and down. He gave you a long, deep kiss before resting his forehead against yours.

“I really wanna hear all those beautiful sounds you’ll make,” he said lowly, “but you gotta be quiet for me.”

You nodded. “I’ll be quiet.”

He kissed you again before pressing the swollen tip of his cock to your entrance. Slowly, he slid into you, and you already found yourself whining at the stretched out sensation he was giving you. He was just so big. He groaned above you, pushing into you more.

“You’re so big,” you said with a whisper. You had never felt anything so big and thick and perfect. “God, you feel so big inside me.”

“Fuck,” Stephen grumbled out. “You feel so fucking tight, warm and wet.”

He inched into you more and more until you had all of him, until you were stuffed with his cock. That was when he pulled out and began to pump himself back into you, stretching you out with his cock. You felt so full as he fucked you, your legs wrapping around him as he took you and fucked you and made you all his. In and out, in and out.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he muttered into your ear. “God, you feel so good. Does my cock feel good inside of you? Hm?”

You nodded, whining as you bit into your bottom lip. “So… So good. Please, you feel so good.”

“Mm, this is what you wanted, huh? You wanted my cock. You wanted it so fucking bad. You’re taking it so good, baby. You’re taking my cock like such a good girl. Look at you. Look at how good you look like this.”

You didn’t do it on purpose. It was just that Stephen’s cock felt so good stuffed inside of you and his filthy words were getting to you as well: the moan was ripped right out of you, the sound loud and shrill. Stephen’s hand was suddenly on your mouth, your eyes big as he carried on fucking you and filling you up.

“You gotta stay quiet for me,” he said. “I know it feels good. I know that little pussy wanted my cock so fucking bad, but you can’t keep moaning so loud. I know it’s hard. My cock feels so fucking good inside of you, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm!” you let out behind his hand.

He chuckled. “You take it so damn good. You’re taking every fucking inch. Look at that look in your eyes. I bet you’re so close for me again. Are you? Hm? Are you close?”

You were, and all you could do was nod in response as he slid in and out of you, his cock so thick as he took you. Your orgasm was seconds away. You could feel it. Stephen pulled out of you and pushed into you deep, the movements fast and wild, the sound of skin hitting skin in the air.

“I’m so close,” you said, your voice so soft and muffled. “Mm, I’m so—” It was all too much, and soon you found yourself losing control right there with his cock stuffed inside of you. Your orgasm hit you, taking over your whole body. Your skin felt hot and your toes curled as Stephen slammed in and out of you.

“There we go,” Stephen said with a chuckle.

You laid there panting for a good full minute until Stephen pulled his soaked cock out of you. He flipped you over so that you were on top, his hands moving from your waist to your hips to your ass, lifting you up before he lowered you back down onto his cock. A second later, he had filled you back up, stretching you out once again. Hands on his broad shoulders, you began to ride his cock wildly. Up and down, up and down. You took every inch of his cock as he groaned below you.

“That’s it,” Stephen muttered. “Just like that. Keep riding my cock.”

Your own moans were far too loud so you pressed your face right to his neck, hoping that would keep the sounds muffled. You couldn’t help it when you sucked at his soft skin, leaving behind little love bites as you bounced on his cock.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” said Stephen. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N. Fuck.”

There was a knock at the door suddenly. A loud one. It made you jump a little, your eyes widening as you stared down at Stephen.

“Shit,” he said, voice laced with panic. “Stop.”

You halted then and there, waiting to see Stephen’s next move.

Stephen cleared his throat. “Who’s there?” he asked, a fake, sleepy tone in his words. Like he had just woken up.

“It’s me,” America said from the other side of the door. “I was just wondering if you knew where Y/N was. I just woke up and can’t find her anywhere.”

“Uh,” Stephen said, that feigned, sleepy tone still there in his voice, “maybe she went for a walk or went back to Kamar Taj or something. I dunno.”

“Hmmm, okay then,” said America. “I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.”

You both stayed still with Stephen’s cock still buried deep inside of you. You waited to hear the sound of America’s door clicking shut, and with that, you lifted yourself up that little bit and worked yourself back down Stephen’s cock, eager to feel him again. You were moving fast and hard, your nails digging into Stephen’s shoulders as you took his cock. It was almost impossible to keep your moans to yourself as his thick cock stretched you out, and every now and then, a pleasure-filled moan would slip from your lips.

His swollen tip kept hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. You were so close, and it seemed like Stephen could sense it.

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock for me again,” he said from below you. “Fucking do it. Just cum.”

You nodded, bouncing right there on his length, so eager to feel your third orgasm of the night. You rode him hard and fast, not stopping until that feeling of wild pleasure pooled all over your body. Stephen was fucking up into you, dragging out the feeling, letting your orgasm turn your body all hot and shaky.

He pounded into you from below with a groan. “I’m gonna cum,” he said.

“Mm, please cum inside me,” you whispered.

“Fuck, okay,” he said with gritted teeth.

One, two, three more thrusts, and then it was it for him. He pounded into you deep and hard, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he lost all control and emptied himself inside of you. Hot and sticky, his cum coated your inner walls and you shuddered at the feeling.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he let out with a pant.

For a little while, the two of you just stayed like that before Stephen reached forward, giving you a quick, sweet kiss. Then he gave your ass a tap, and you knew that was his way of telling you to lift yourself off of him. The second you did so, you felt his cum spilling right out of you. You laid against his chest, your own breathing heavy, but it was Stephen who got his back on track first.

You laid there in the bed as he got up and put some underwear on. Then he moved into the bathroom and came back with a warm cloth, letting it gently trace along your body and cleaning up the filthy mess he made. He threw it to the floor before sliding into bed with you, your head suddenly back on his chest. He kept his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him. Eyes heavy, you were just about to let them shut and get lost in sleep.

“Y/N,” Stephen said softly.

You looked up at him, watching him smile at you. “Yeah?”

“You better get back to America’s room before she gets suspicious,” he said.

You had almost forgotten. “Oh, right.” You kissed him before you grabbed your hastily thrown pyjamas from the floor. “Goodnight, Stephen,” you said as you slowly moved towards the door.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said.

Being as quiet as you could, you slipped back into America’s room. You moved into her bathroom, cleaned yourself up that tiny bit more, and then put your pyjamas back on. Then you climbed back into bed and America almost made you jump when she spoke up.

“Where were you?” she asked in the darkness.

“Um… I just went for a walk,” you lied. “I couldn’t sleep. I just needed to clear my head, you know?”

“Oh, okay,” America said, voice sounding sleepy.

You were pretty tired yourself. Your eyes slowly shut and you couldn’t fight back the smile as you thought about what had just happened. What a night. Stephen’s touch had been so skilled, so perfect. Everything you had imagined. You just hoped that you’d get to do it again, and hopefully, the next time wouldn’t be so rushed. You also hoped America wouldn’t ever find out the truth.

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fandomnerd9602 · 4 months ago

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Touch Starved (🌶️)

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

You thought it would be terrible but your doe’s heat cycle has been an exciting time for the both of you. It was allowing new avenues for you and her to explore your likes and dislikes.

You found out how much Wanda just melts when you take on a more commanding yet tender role. And she found out how much you like it when she talks a little dirty.

During one make out session in your office, she found herself saying something she never thought she’d express.

The two of you were on your couch. She was a squirming mess under you as you kissed her softly and let your hands wander her body.

She was a panting mess, desperate for your touch at the time. It just spilt out from her lips. “F—k me my buck! F—k me.” She gasped that such words left her lips.

You briefly got up to give her a bit of space. “D-do you want me to?” You asked her gently with a shrug, “because I’m free for the rest of the afternoon.”

Wanda giggled and leaped at you. In between fiery kisses and shared laughs, you made sure that your door was locked, the blinds were down, and you happily obeyed her command.

You and Wanda found a slight dip in your time together recently. You and her were planning a barbecue dinner for your family, Natasha, Pietro, Dr Stephen Strange and a couple other hybrids. The planning and organizing had really been cutting into your time together, which can be rather difficult considering that Wanda was still in the mid-range of her heat cycle.

Wanda was getting antsy and kind of anxious the day of the barbecue. Wanda found herself fidgeting, trying to distract her mind with meaningful conversations with Pietro and Natasha. But her eyes wandered over to see you playing with the boys, her heart just about fluttered out of her chest. And then came the heat rising between her thighs. The quivering in her lip returned.

Why did you have to look so good playing rounds of football with her boys? The way the sweat glistened off of your brow in the setting sunlight. The way the sweat made your shirt to your skin in just the right way and places. Wanda needed you to take her now.

Wanda looked around. Any excuse to get you alone. She needed just one excuse. And then she found it: the empty cooler. Wanda couldn’t help but smile a little.

Natasha walked up to her, “hey Wanda, we need more—“

“Drinks!” Your doe said excitedly before hushing herself, “I know. Detka and I are on it.”

And with that Wanda ran over to you and took your hand. “Detka, we’re out of drinks.”

“We have more in the…”

“Cellar. I know.” She whispered in your ear, “I need my big strong buck to help me downstairs” she gave you a seductive wink.

You carefully composed yourself and followed Wanda into your house and down to your basement. All the while, both of you were checking to be sure that no one had noticed or was following.

Wanda descended the stairs. You quietly locked the door behind you and followed her down.

You were barely one foot off the last step when Wanda lunged at you. Her hungry kisses were only matched by the ferocity on display as she began fiddling with your shorts in between kisses and moans.

“Need. You. Now” she playfully growls in your ear.

Your hands tug and pull at her sundress straps. She practically yanks her dress down and jumps up, wrapping her legs around your waist.

You balance her against the nearest shelf structure. Her antlers knock over a couple cans and boxes but neither of you care.

“Thank you, detka” she desperately whines as you go to work, pleasuring and pleasing the goddess wrapped around you. “Thank you! Oh thank you!”

You keep at your task, making her sight and moan. A few of the same sounds escape your lips as your two souls collide and mesh like they were never meant to part.

“D-detka” she began to say, your pace becoming erratic and a frenzy of love and lust mixed together. “I-I’m…I’m gonna—!”

Wanda’s eyes shut tight as waves of pleasure engulf you both. Wanda throws her head back exposing her beautiful porcelain neck. You hungrily kiss her pressure point, causing a bigger moan to escape from your perfect doe.

You lived to hear that wondrous sound. Her eyes locked with yours as the two of you shared a glimpse of eternity together.

“Thank you, my buck” she replies, her voice both husky and tired.

“Anything for you, my doe” you kiss her tenderly, allowing yourselves to forget the world and everything else for a few precious minutes.

Natasha snickered as you and Wanda came back up from the basement with extra packs of Gatorade and cold water in your arms. Pietro could barely contain his laughter too.

“So how are the refreshments?” That brother in law of yours laughs before trying to take another sip

“Just perfect” Wanda purrs. Pietro nearly spit up his drink.

Tags @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @iiconicsfan25 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @russianredassassin @revanshand @multi-fandom-enjoyer @aloneodi @texaswolf23 @julieromanoff

#marvel #marvel fluff #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #elizabeth olsen #the scarlet witch #bambi #Bambi Wanda #scarlet witch

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brunchable · 6 months ago

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We Can’t Be Friends || Doctor Strange x F!Reader.

Genre: Angst(?) || Song MV inspired

Pairings: Stephen Strange x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.2K

Quick Summary: Your relationship with Stephen Strange has been strained to the breaking point by his constant absences and mystical duties. Despite Stephen's attempts to mend your fractured bond, you decide to seek a more permanent solution.

A/N: Lisssteeen, this is not proof read lol. I haven't written in a while, I am feeling rusty so please be forgiving hehe. Every nice interactions are most valued <3

Stephen had been gone for a month for the third time, with no word, no warnings. You had spent countless nights worrying, wondering if he was safe, if he would ever return. And now, as the sparkle of the portal opened and caught your attention, Stephen stepped out, looking weary and worn from his latest mission.

You were waiting for him in the living room, feeling a mixture of anger and frustration, yet your expressions show otherwise. You had been rehearsing what you would say, but now that he was here, the words felt heavy on your tongue.

“You're back. Where in the seven hells have you been this time?” You began, your voice firm but calm, you had that motherly tone when a teen returns home from sneaking out.

“Seven hells pretty much sums it up… can we do this later? I just got back,” Stephen chuckled, rubbing his temples, the tone of your voice grating and adding up to his headache, “I’m exhausted.”

“No, I think we should address this, now,” You insisted, pointing to the ground for emphasis.

Stephen sighed, sensing the confrontation he so wanted to avoid. “Alright, I’m listening.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Stephen, you’ve been gone for a month. No warnings, no pass the message from Wong. . . What is going on?”

“Y/N, you know what my responsibilities are. The world needs me. I can’t just ignore that,” Stephen said defensively.

“A heads up would be nice. Like how you were before. It feels like I’m nothing more than a distraction to you,” You shot back, your eyes narrowing.

Stephen’s expression hardened with irritation. “You knew what you were getting into from the start. My work–my duty is important. Do I need to explain myself every single time?”

“Why are you so defensive? Is it wrong of me to at least know where you are? So I don't worry all the time? At least still show me that I matter to you. Right now, it feels like you and your missions are all that matter,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“This is ridiculous, Y/N. Clea and I are working to protect this world. It’s not like I’m off on a vacation. I’m trying to keep everyone safe, including you.”

It was impossible to overlook the single name that slipped from Stephen's lips. The air seemed to thicken even more with tension. Your face transformed dramatically; what had been a mask of frustration quickly crumbled, replaced by a deep, probing suspicion. Your eyes narrowed, searching Stephen's face for any hint of deceit, and your heart pounded in your chest, echoing the name that now hung heavily between you.

“Who’s Clea?” you asked, making sure to stress the name you didn't want to say, your voice tinged of disdain.

“Fuck,” Stephen muttered under his breath. A wave of regret washed over him as he realized he should have told you who he was teaming up with sooner. He wondered why he had left out such an important detail, knowing it would have made a difference in your reaction. . . or make it worse?

“Clea is from the dark dimension, I have caused an incursion in reality and I had to go with her and fix it, okay?” Stephen explained it for what it is. . . to him at least.

“So, you were with her every time you vanished without a trace?” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm and a barely concealed resentment that felt like a knife twist in your chest.

“Like I said, I had to fix the incursion I caused,” he responded, his tone distant, as if the gravity of his words could shield him from the emotional storm brewing between you.

You stared at him, not caring what he even meant by 'incursion'. Your mind was a whirlwind, fixated on the crushing weight of this new revelation, which felt like an earthquake shattering the foundation of everything you thought you knew.

The man who once made you feel safe and cherished now stood before you, a stranger entwined in secrets and sacrifices you couldn't begin to fathom.

Stephen ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “I don’t have time for this. If you can’t understand that my work is important, then maybe we do need to rethink this relationship.”

You were stunned into silence for a moment, the weight of his words hitting you like a physical blow. Your throat stings badly as you fight to prevent any tears from falling. “So, that’s it? You’re willing to throw everything away because I worry about you?”

“I’m not throwing anything away, Y/N. All I do is try to save the world. If you can’t see that, then maybe we need to reconsider,” Stephen replied coldly.

“Okay. . .so you find a new partner in crime and the first thing you could think of is to ‘reconsider’,” You nodded, a little laugh might've escaped from you and it triggered something in Stephen.

“Do you hear yourself? You’re acting like I’m choosing Clea over you. This isn’t some petty love triangle, Y/N. This is about life and death, about the safety of the entire world!” Stephen’s voice was now raised.

“Oh my god! Enough about saving the world already! You belong to the world! Alright, I get it! But don't expect me to be nonchalant when you've spent your time ‘saving the world’ with her. Meanwhile I rot in my apartment worried sick if you're even still alive because I only want to belong to you.” Your voice was sharp, cutting through the air, firmly jabbing his chest with your finger

Stephen clenched his fist tightly, the knuckles turning white, as he took a deliberate step closer. His presence loomed over you, casting a shadow that seemed to amplify the tension in the air, “You think it’s easy for me? You think I don’t miss you? I have responsibilities that go beyond us—"

“If you're thinking I am asking you to abandon your responsibilities, I am not. I didn’t think you’d understand me.” You replied, striving to maintain your composure under his unwavering presence and the intense gaze fixated on your face.

Stephen shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “I never hid what my life was about, but you knew what signed up for when you said yes to me.”

“I did but I didn't sign up to be treated like an afterthought,” Y/N said, your voice softening slightly but still firm.

Stephen sighed and was silent for a moment, “So, what then? What do you want me to do? It is so hard to find balance with all this shit happening around us.”

“I don't know. . . whatever I may want, it'll be impossible for you to do,” You said, your voice resigned as you crossed your arms, a gesture of both self-protection and defiance.

Stephen’s eyes narrowed. “And what’s your solution? To just walk away?”

“That was your suggestion first, wasn't it?” You responded, a low, mirthless chuckle escaping your lips.

Stephen looked down, his silence speaking volumes. The decision crystallized in your mind. You turned away, grabbed your keys from the table, and headed toward the door, needing to cool off and get your head straight. The sound of the door closing behind you echoed through the Sanctum, a final punctuation to your heated exchange.

× × × × ×

You gripped the steering wheel tightly as you drove through the darkened streets of New York City. The familiar hum of the engine and the blur of passing lights did little to calm your racing heart. Your eyes were red from preventing a single tear to shed, but the tears came after being alone, blurring your vision and forcing you to blink them away repeatedly.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger, sadness, confusion, and a deep, aching sense of betrayal. The argument with Stephen played on a relentless loop in your head, each word echoing with painful clarity.

"Maybe we do need to rethink this relationship."

"Maybe we shouldn’t be together."

You shook your head, trying to dispel the hurtful words, but they clung to you like a stubborn shadow. How did it come to this? How did your love, once so vibrant and full of promise, deteriorated into something so cold and distant?

Your thoughts drifted to the early days of your relationship. The way Stephen's eyes would light up when he saw you, the warmth of his touch, the way both of you would laugh and talk for hours about everything and nothing. You remembered the adventures you shared, the quiet moments of intimacy, and the feeling of safety and love that enveloped you whenever you were with him.

But those memories felt like they belonged to another life, another couple. Now, Stephen was always preoccupied, always focused on his missions with Clea. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being an afterthought, a secondary priority in his life. The loneliness you felt was suffocating, and tonight’s argument had only confirmed your deepest fears.

You pulled over to a quiet spot by the Hudson River, the soft glow of the city lights reflecting off the water. You turned off the engine and sat there in silence, the sound of your own breathing loud in the stillness of the night.

You leaned your head back against the seat and closed your eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. You felt a crushing weight on your chest, the sense of impending loss almost too much to bear. You loved Stephen with all your heart, but you couldn’t keep living like this—constantly feeling like you were competing for his attention, always coming second to his duties as a sorcerer.

A part of you understood the importance of Stephen's work. You admired his dedication, his unwavering commitment to protecting the world from mystical threats. But at the same time, you couldn’t ignore your own needs, your own desire for a partner who was present, who made you feel valued and loved.

The idea asking Wong to use the Runes of Kof-Kol had come to you in a moment of clarity during your drive. It was a drastic measure, but it felt like the only way to save yourself from the inevitable heartbreak of this deteriorating relationship. If you both forgot each other, if you became strangers once more, maybe then you could find peace.

You opened your eyes and gazed out at the river, the dark waters flowing steadily under the moonlit sky. You felt a strange sense of calm wash over you as you made your decision. It wouldn’t be easy, and it would hurt like hell, but it was the only way you could move forward without the constant pain of their fractured love.

As you started the car and drove back towards the Sanctum, you knew what you had to do, and you hoped that in forgetting, you could both find a way to heal. The city lights blurred once more as fresh tears welled up in your eyes, but this time, they were tears of acceptance. You were ready to let go, ready to find yourself again, even if it meant losing the man you had loved with all your heart.

× × × ×

After driving aimlessly for hours, you finally pull up in front of the Sanctum Sanctorum. The building looms before you, its ancient architecture shrouded in an almost foreboding silence. You sit in the car for a few moments, gathering your strength, knowing the decision you have made is final. The city is quieter now, the hustle and bustle having died down to a gentle hum in the background.

You take a deep breath and step out of the car, your legs feeling like lead. You walk up to the front door and pause for a moment, your hand resting on the cold brass handle. Memories of happier times flash before your eyes—moments of laughter, love, and a bond that once felt unbreakable. But those memories are now overshadowed by the reality of your fractured relationship.

Pushing the door open, you step inside. The familiar scent of incense and ancient books fills your nostrils, but instead of comfort, it brings a pang of sadness. The Sanctum feels emptier than ever, a reflection of the void that has grown between you and Stephen.

As you walk into the living room, you see Stephen sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looks up as you enter, his eyes filled with the weariness which mirrors your own.

“Y/N, you're back,” Stephen says softly, standing up. “I was worried about you.”

You nod, your face devoid of emotion. “I needed some time to think.”

Stephen takes a few careful steps, “I know I haven’t been around much. And I know tonight's argument was... I didn’t handle it well. I’m sorry for that.”

You feel a flicker of acknowledgment at his words, you look into his eyes, the eyes you once found so much solace in, and feel a deep sense of finality, “I need to see Wong,” you say, your voice steady and cold, “Is he here?”

Stephen steps closer, his gaze searching your face for any hint of what you might be feeling. “Are you okay now? About earlier. . .”

“I'm fine, Stephen. Really,” you say with a forced smile. “I just need to speak to Wong.”

“Wong? Sure, I'll summon him for you.” Stephen's eyes narrow slightly, sensing something is off. He didn’t think he’d get out of trouble that easily.

A few moments later, Wong enters the room, his expression pondering about what you might need him for. “Y/N, Stephen said you wanted to speak with me. What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath and glanced at Stephen who remained curious about why you needed Wong.

“Are we able to chat somewhere private?” You asked, your eyes flickering towards Stephen which Wong took notice of.

Wong turned his head towards Stephen and then you, “Of course. Follow me.” He headed towards the door to Kamar-Taj.

He led you to the empty library, ensuring no one else was around, and gestured for you to sit across the table from him.

“How can I help?” He asked.

“I hope this isn't too much to ask. . . but can you please cast the Runes of Kof-Kol on me?”

Wong's expression shifts to one of alarm. “The Runes of Kof-Kol? Those spells are dangerous, Y/N. What could possibly make you consider using them?”

You explained the situation, trying your best to keep your voice from breaking, “Stephen and I... we’re not working anymore. It’s too painful. I need to forget him. I want to move on quickly. I don't want to spend months wallowing in heartbreak.”

Wong listens quietly, his expression softening with understanding. “I see. But you know the risks, don’t you? The Runes of Kof-Kol only erases memories, not feelings.”

“I know,” you say firmly.

Wong nods slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “I understand your pain, Y/N. But this is a decision that cannot be undone. I urge you to think about it very carefully. Take some time to reflect on whether this is truly what you want.”

You shake your head, your decision unwavering. “I've already thought about it, Wong. I’ve thought about nothing else. This is what needs to be done.”

Wong sighs, his expression resigned yet compassionate. “Still, I urge you to give it a few more days. I suggest you stay here at Kamar-Taj. Meditate, reflect, and if you still feel the same, we will discuss it again.”

You nod slowly, appreciating his concern. “Alright. I’ll stay and think about it.”

× × × × ×

After you left the library, Wong stood silently, his thoughts troubled by your request. He knew the depth of the pain you were feeling, but the Runes of Kof-Kol were not to be taken lightly. As he pondered the situation, he sensed a presence lingering near the bookshelves. Turning his head slightly, he caught sight of Stephen, partially hidden in the shadows, clearly eavesdropping.

“Strange,” Wong called out, his tone firm but not unkind. “You can come out. I know you've been listening.”

Stephen stepped out, a mixture of guilt and concern etched on his face. “I didn't mean to intrude. I just… needed to know what she was thinking.”

Wong crossed his arms, looking at Stephen with a mixture of disappointment and empathy. “You heard what she said. She's feeling hurt. . . more than I think you realize.”

Stephen sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I know I've been neglecting her, but my responsibilities... the missions... They demand so much of me. I never wanted her to feel like this.”

Wong nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Your duties are important, Stephen. But so are your personal relationships. Y/N came to you because she believed in you, trusted you. But right now, she feels like she's lost in your shadow.”

Stephen's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a rare display of vulnerability. “I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose her, but I also can't abandon my duties.”

Wong walked over to Stephen, placing a hand on his shoulder. “The balance between your responsibilities and personal life is delicate, but not impossible to achieve. You need to make her feel valued and prioritize your time better. She asked about the Runes of Kof-Kol, so she's considering erasing her memories of you. Right now, though, she needs space to think.”

Stephen's breath hitched, the gravity of Wong's words hitting him hard. “She wants to forget me completely.”

Wong nodded solemnly. “She believes it's the only way to move on from the pain. I advised her to stay here for a few days, to meditate and reflect before making such a drastic decision.”

“I can't let her do this. I need to talk to her, to make her understand that I can change, that I can be better.” Stephen closed his eyes, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He was about to walk away to find you but Wong stopped him.

“Right now, she needs time. Barging in and trying to convince her otherwise might only push her further away. Give her the space she asked for. If she decides to go through with it, we'll deal with it then. But for now, respect her wishes.” Wong shook his head gently.

Stephen glanced in your direction with a sigh, shrugged off Wong's hand, and returned to the New York Sanctum. That night, sleep eluded him despite his restless tossing and turning. No position felt comfortable, not when your scent lingered on his pillowcases.

Anxiety ate him up, twisting his stomach into knots as he replayed the argument repeatedly in his mind. Each harsh word and dismissive gesture haunted him, intensifying his regret.

He had always prided himself on his composure and control, but now he felt them slipping away. The weight of his mistakes pressed heavily on his chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“I should have been more understanding, I should have put myself in her shoes,” he thought, his mind consumed by remorse.

The thought of your hurt expression cut him deeply, more than any physical pain he had ever endured. He realized how much he valued your presence, your support, and the warmth you brought into his life. The fear of losing you was a constant ache, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

He was ashamed of how he had dismissed your feelings, how he had let his pride overshadow the love and respect he had for you.

Desperation clawed at him as he searched for a way to make things right, to prove that he could be the partner you deserved. In the silence of the night, he vowed to himself that he would do better, that he would learn from his mistakes and show you how much you meant to him. That is if it’s not too late.

× × × × ×

Two days later, the peaceful atmosphere of Kamar-Taj had failed to ease the unrest in your heart. Despite your attempts at meditation and introspection, the serenity of the surroundings could not calm the storm of emotions within you. Your resolve remains the same. You knew what needed to be done, and it was time to inform Wong of your decision.

You found Wong in the courtyard, meticulously tending to a small garden. The scent of blooming flowers mixed with the crisp mountain air, creating a serene environment that contrasted sharply with your inner conflict.

“Wong,” you called softly, approaching him.

Wong looked up from his work, his expression calm but observant. “Y/N, have you made your decision?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I have. I still want to use the Runes of Kof-Kol.”

Wong sighed, setting aside his tools. “I was hoping you might reconsider, but I respect your decision. . .” he trailed off, noticing Stephen walk towards you, “Give me a moment? I'll back.”

As Wong turned to leave, Stephen entered the courtyard with his presence of authority. He had been waiting for this moment, fully aware that your decision was imminent.

With careful, deliberate steps, he approached you. The air was thick with unspoken emotions, and each passing second felt like an eternity as he stood there gathering the right words to say.

“Y/N,” Stephen began, his voice calm but carrying a hint of vulnerability, his eyes intensely scanning your face for any hint of doubt or hesitation. “Is this truly what you want?”

You jumped slightly, startled by his sudden appearance behind you. “Stephen,” you exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to—I just wanted to apologize... that it has led to this. I was wrong…” Stephen began, but his voice seemed to fade into the background as you stared at his face intently, trying to memorize every detail.

As Stephen spoke, the reality of the moment hit you hard. You felt an overwhelming need to imprint his features in your memory: the way his brow furrowed with concern, the earnestness in his eyes, and the subtle lines that hinted at the weight he carried.

Time seemed to slow down, and every second stretched into an eternity. You noticed the slight quiver of his lips, the way his hair framed his face, and even the small scar on his cheek that you had always found endearing.

Your heart ached with the knowledge that this might be the last time you saw him like this, so close and vulnerable. Each detail became precious, a fragment of a moment you desperately wanted to hold onto.

The intensity of your emotions made it hard to breathe, and you felt a lump forming in your throat. Even though Stephen's voice was a distant echo, the look in his eyes told you everything—you were both struggling with the same pain, the pain of letting this story die.

“. . . I love you, Y/N—but if this will save you from the hurt I’ve caused you then so be it. I will cast the spell on you.”

You were taken aback, surprise flickering across your face. “You would do that?”

Stephen stepped closer, his eyes earnest. “Yes. If this is what it takes for you to find peace, then I’ll do it.”

Stephen leads you back in the New York Sanctum, heading towards the ritual chamber in the Undercroft. Each step you took echoed with the weight of what was about to happen. Stephen’s mind was a whirlwind of memories and emotions.

He glanced at you walking beside him, your face a mask of calm determination. Opposite to the storm he knew must be raging inside you. He wished he could reach out, take your hand, and pull you back from the edge of this irreversible decision. But he knew he had no right to, not after everything.

As you descended the final set of steps into the Undercroft, Stephen’s heart ached with regret. He had always prided himself on his ability to solve problems, to find solutions where others saw only obstacles. But here, in this most personal of battles, he had failed. He had failed to protect what mattered most.

Every step felt heavier than the last. Stephen’s mind raced with unspoken words, a torrent of emotions he struggled to contain.

He remembered the early days of your relationship, the way your laughter had filled the Sanctum with warmth, the quiet moments of understanding, and shared dreams. Those memories now felt like shards of glass, cutting into him with each step he took.

He glanced at you again, your determined stride a painful reminder of the distance that had grown between you. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how sorry he was for every time he had put his duties before you, for every missed moment, every broken promise. But he knew that words would not change the course you had set for yourself. Actions had spoken louder, and they had driven you to this point.

You reached the entrance to the ritual chamber, Stephen paused, taking a deep breath. The room beyond was prepared, the symbols drawn, the components ready. It was a place of power, of ancient magic, but today it felt like a tomb for the love you had shared.

“Y/N,” Stephen began, his voice soft but heavy with regret. “I want you to know that this isn’t easy for me. I never wanted to hurt you. If I could turn back time and make different choices, I would. But I respect your decision. I hope you find the peace you’re looking for.”

You looked at him with eyes glistening of unshed tears, “Thank you, Stephen. . . I hope you find happiness, I really do.”

With that, you stepped into the center of the circle, and Stephen moved to the edge, his heart pounding in his chest. He began to chant the incantation, his voice strong and unwavering despite the storm of emotions inside him. The symbols around you began to glow, the magic swirling in the air like a tangible presence. You felt a strange sensation, a mix of warmth and cold as the spell took hold.

As Stephen chanted, your mind drifted to the memories you were about to lose. The first time you met flashed vividly in your mind—the way Stephen had looked at you with those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. You remembered feeling an instant connection, a spark that ignited something deep within you. You had been fascinated by his intellect, his confidence, and the way he carried himself with such purpose.

The mornings you woke up wrapped in each other’s arms, sunlight streaming through the curtains, casting a warm glow on your intertwined bodies. The way he would brush a strand of hair from your face and kiss your forehead, making you feel like the most cherished person in the world. You remembered the laughter, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the sound of his voice when he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

As the incantation reached its peak, a bright light enveloped you, and you felt a sudden rush of memories and emotions being pulled away. The love, the pain, the shared moments—all of it faded into a distant, forgotten dream. Your vision blurred, the light intensifying until it was all-consuming.

Then, everything went dark. You felt your knees give way, the world tilting as you lost consciousness. The last thing you heard was Stephen’s voice, calling your name out of concern as you slipped into oblivion.

When you finally stirred, you found yourself lying on the familiar softness of your own bed, the morning light filtering through the curtains. The familiar hum of the city outside your window grounded you, your arms reaching on the other side of the bed and it was empty. You shook it off, chuckling to yourself.

You sat up slowly, looking around your apartment. Everything was in its place—the books on the shelf, the photos on the wall—now mostly of you by yourself, the cozy blanket draped over the armchair. Nothing out of the ordinary and yet you feel disorientated.

You made yourself a cup of tea, the warm liquid offering a small comfort. As you sipped it, you stared out of the window at the bustling city below. The people, the cars, the rhythm of daily life—it all seemed so normal, so unremarkable. Yet, there was an inexplicable void within you, a sadness that lingered just beneath the surface but you try not to dwell on it.

Days turned into weeks, and while the feeling of emptiness persisted, you found ways to move on. You immersed yourself in work, reconnected with old friends, and took up new hobbies. Slowly, you began to carve out a new life for yourself, one that was no longer defined by the shadows of forgotten memories.

× × × × ×

Stephen sat alone in the Sanctum Sanctorum's library, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the ancient tomes that lined the walls. The room, once a place of solace and knowledge, now felt suffocatingly empty. He absentmindedly traced the spine of a book he had read countless times, but the words blurred together, unable to hold his attention. His mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts of you.

He stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the city. The lights twinkled in the distance, a stark contrast to the darkness he felt inside. He remembered how you used to stand there with him, your hand in his, both of you silently watching the world below. Those moments had been a rare reprieve from his responsibilities, a time when he could just be Stephen, not the Master of the New York Sanctum.

The silence of the Sanctum was interrupted only by the distant hum of the city's nightlife, but it felt louder than ever. Every corner of the room seemed to echo with memories of you—the laughter you shared, the quiet conversations late into the night, the way you used to tease him about his incessant need to organize his magical artifacts. Now, those echoes were all he had left, but he guesses that he at least deserved to go through this heartbreak alone.

Wong quietly stood with him, the silence heavy between them. After a moment, he cleared his throat, “Keeping yourself busy?”

Stephen nodded, his response short and clipped. “Yep.”

“She did brighten up the place, didn't she?” Wong glanced around the room, taking in the emptiness that seemed more pronounced now.

Stephen's eyes followed Wong's gaze, a hint of a sad smile touching his lips. “Yep.”

Wong shifted slightly, turning his head to look at Stephen with curiosity and concern. "So, what's next for you?"

Stephen sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he contemplated the question. The thought of waiting was both a comfort and a torment, a reminder of what he had lost and what he still yearned for.

“I don't know... Wait for her, I guess. Wait until our paths cross again, wait until she loves me again.”

TAGS: @goldencherriess @strangeions @sobeautifullyobsessed

#stephen strange #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor strange imagine #stephen strange x you #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x you #benedict cumberbatch imagine #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange imagine #dr stephen strange #stephen strange x y/n #doctor strange x female reader

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kuroecchy · 1 year ago

Text

the pic in the list are not mine, I just found the pics from pinterest.

fair warning the theme i chose for my october prompts are completly randome so I have nothing planned for any of them.

English is not my first language and no beta.

!WARNING!

child abuse

Past trauma

homophobic

minor character death

Day 4 - Childhood

It started in the morning. He felt like he had woken at the wrong side of the bed. He felt like he could explode at any time.

He tried to get his mind off it and went to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. Only to find that the coffee maker is broken.

He sighed, He wished Stephen was here. His boyfriend makes the best coffee and tea the engineer had ever tasted.

He forgoes breakfast since Stephen is at Kamar-Taj and wouldn’t be back till later this evening.

He went down to his lab through the elevator. When the door opened, the face of Steve Grant Rogers was the one that greeted him.

Just great, he thought sarcastically. Still, he stepped into the elevator.

“Tony? You look terrible. Maybe you should rest some more.” The captain was showing genuine concern but Tony wasn’t really in the mood to be nice.

“I’m fine,” He said curtly, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m about to go mee Sam and Bucky to go on a run with them.” While he said that, his expression still shows concern about the shorter man’s wellbeing.

Tony hates it. Thankfully the elevator opened to his floor quickly so he could step out.

Stiffly he spoke, “Well, this is my stop. See you around, I guess.”

He then quickly left to enter his workshop.

His bad day didn’t seem to stop there, It followed him throughout the day. He kept accidentally messing things up and it caused the engineer to get even more irritated.

Time flew by ang the next he knew it was night time.

He’s tired, frustrated, angry, and hungry. He felt terrible and he knows he looks terrible too.

He was stopped from continuing by his AI informing him that both Stephen and Peter had returned and Stephen is making dinner.

So he decided to go greet them.

Upon arriving he was greeted with Peter’s over energetic-ness. The teen was saying this and that and this and that, there was nothing wrong with it, it was normal for him to do that.

Too bad today wasn’t the right time for it.

“- And then we can go and -”

“Peter, stop.” Tony cut through the endless babbling. Peter was confused. Did he do something wrong?

“Mr Stark I -"

“Peter, please, for the love of God. Stop talking.” Now the teen is really starting to panic, did he annoy Mr Stark?

Stephen, who had been listening from the kitchen frowned.

“But I-”

“Peter, Please. I’m tired.” Stephen moved towards where they are, he has a bad feeling about this, “If you’re gonna talk so much then just- Leave!”

It was too late. He had said it and there was no taking it back. The words had taken its effect, the teen’s eyes were starting to get red.

The spider child didn’t bother to say anything else and simply ran towards the nearest exit.

“Peter-!” his hand reached out, but it was too late, the teen had already left.

What the hell did he just say? How could he say something like that? My God, he felt sick-

His knees went weak and he fell to the floor, “Tony!”

He was just like his father. He’s just as horrible as his father. He-

His thoughts spirald even further.

“-ny. -ony! Tony! Breath, follow my breathing, it’s okay, you didn’t mean it.” He hugged the broken man in his arms closely and whispered soft things into his ears, reassuring the other.

“You were having a bad day, you were tired. I understand everyone gets tired. It’s okay.”

“it’s not… It's not okay. I’m just as fucked up as my father-”

“NO! Tony, believe me, you are not your father. He’s not you, you are one of the kindest men I've ever met."

It took a few minutes more to calm down. They had managed to move to the sofa and after a while Peter returned (JARVIS called him). Tony explained that it wasn’t the teen’s fault, he had simply been in a bad mood since this morning and it had simply blown up.

After that the spider shield went to bed first. Stephen then pulled Tony to their bedroom to rest as well.

While the sorcerer had reassured him that he wasn’t his father, Tony still couldn’t get it off his mind. Thanks to that it resulted in him not being able to sleep.

Good thing that Stephen anticipated this since he also didn’t sleep, instead, he spoke, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

The older man looked at the younger one, “m… Nah.. it's stupid anyways”

“Tony… It’s not stupid. I care about you.”

“Yeah, well. It’s not even supposed to be that big of a deal.”

The younger male pondered his options, “I… was - am still -scared of loving someone, especially if they’re a male.

“My sister - Donna - I loved her so much. But she died. And it was all because I couldn’t help her. Had I been able to do a simple respiration she would still be alive now

“I’m scared of failing to protect the person I love…

“My father hated me after that incident. He and ma never really cared about me. Donna was their pride and joy. So after that incident… He would beat me up just because he hated to see me.

“It got even worse after he found out I’m bisexual. He called me all sorts of things while hitting me and telling me that no one would ever love someone like me.”

His voice trembled with each word and it broke off in the end.

Two strong arms wrapped around the shaking sorcerer. He didn’t even notice he had been crying.

“I’m sorry Stephen. No one should ever experience that. You should never have had to experience that…” he trailed off for a bit.

Stephen had trusted him with this vulnerable side of him, the least he could do was return it.

“Ever since I was born my father never cared about me. I tried to gain my father’s attention, I thought that if I were to show him how smart I am he would love me…

“Turns out dad only saw the potential to use me. He showed me off to the media like some sort of trophy then sent me off to a boarding school when I was 4.

“When I came back my father didn’t change a bit. He was still only interested in finding rogers. At that point I didn’t care, I had started drinking and doing so many horrible things I…

“I finally got the attention I wanted from my father… He started to hate me. By the end of it, before he died we had been on horrible terms with each other.

“He took my mom with him…”

By the time Tony finished they were back to hugging each other.

They felt safe in each other’s arms. To just- ignore the whole world for that moment.

They fell asleep still wrapped in each other’s arms.

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caplanbuckybarnes · 4 months ago

Text

Through Space & Time, Always (Stephen Strange)

Summary: You and Stephentalk about your differences after being away from each other for so long.

Warnings: None

wc: 915

Read on Ao3!

The Sanctum Sanctorum was quiet, save for the faint hum of ancient magic coursing through its walls. You stood in the grand foyer, surrounded by relics of forgotten realms, feeling small in the presence of so much power. It had been years since you set foot here, but the place still felt as overwhelming as it had the first time.

And then there was him—Stephen Strange.

You felt his presence before you saw him, the air subtly shifting with the energy he always carried. He stepped out from the shadows, his deep blue cloak flowing behind him, eyes as sharp and piercing as ever. The Sorcerer Supreme in all his enigmatic glory.

"It's been a while since I first saw you," you said, your voice steady, though your heart raced.

Stephen's gaze lingered on you for a moment before he spoke, his voice a low, smooth timbre. "It has," he replied, stepping closer. "Time seems to work differently when you're not anchored to one place."

You nodded, your eyes meeting his. He was as composed and calm as you remembered, but something about him felt different. The last time you had seen each other, the world was on the verge of falling apart, the battle for reality itself hanging in the balance. You had been a part of that war, standing by his side as the universe fractured and reshaped itself. But after that, you left—chasing a sense of normalcy that Stephen could never provide.

Yet here you were again.

"You look well," he said, his tone polite but distant. His fingers twitched, as if resisting the urge to reach out.

"So do you," you replied, feeling the weight of his words. But the silence between you told a different story. There was an unspoken tension, years of unsaid things lingering between you both like ghosts.

You moved to the center of the room, looking around at the relics on display. "Has anything changed?" you asked, trying to break the silence. "This place feels timeless."

Stephen's lips curved into a faint smile. "Time doesn’t touch the Sanctum the way it does the rest of the world." He paused, his expression growing serious again. "But I have changed."

Your heart tightened at his words. Of course he had. He had seen more than most, faced more darkness than anyone should ever have to. You knew what that did to people. "And me?" you asked quietly. "Have I changed?"

He hesitated, the faintest flicker of something crossing his face—something vulnerable, something real. "I can see it in your eyes," he said softly. "You’ve been through much. But you're still... you."

You took a step toward him, your eyes searching his for the truth. "You never came looking for me."

Stephen’s expression hardened, a mask slipping back into place. "I couldn't."

"Couldn’t or wouldn’t?"

For the first time since you'd arrived, he looked away, as though the weight of your question was too much to bear. "It’s not that simple," he said, voice tight with restraint.

"But it could have been," you insisted, your voice rising with the frustration you'd buried for so long. "We fought together, Stephen. We trusted each other. And then I left, and you... let me go."

"I had to let you go," he said, his voice a rough whisper, eyes flicking back to yours with a mixture of pain and resolve. "It was the only way I could keep you safe."

The room felt heavier now, the magic in the air humming louder as if the Sanctum itself sensed the turmoil. You both stood there, staring at each other, the past hanging between you like a chasm neither of you had dared to cross.

"Was it worth it?" you asked, your voice barely audible.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, Stephen took a step toward you, his hand hovering just near yours but not quite touching. "There’s never been a day I haven’t thought about you," he admitted, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. "But the life I lead, the risks I take… it’s too dangerous for you."

You swallowed hard, the words hitting you like a wave. "Maybe I didn’t need you to protect me. Maybe I needed you to stay."

Stephen’s face softened, a crack in the armor he always wore. "And what would’ve happened then?" he asked, his eyes searching yours. "Would you have stayed here, in this world of chaos? Or would you have left eventually, searching for something I can never give you?"

You didn’t have an answer. Maybe you never would.

"I don’t know," you said softly, taking a small step closer. "But it’s been a long time, Stephen. And standing here now... I realize I never really left. Not in my heart."

For a moment, you both stood there, so close yet so far, the weight of everything unsaid pressing between you. Stephen’s hand finally closed the gap, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a spark of warmth through you.

"I can’t change what’s happened," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can promise you this—if you stay this time, I’ll try. I’ll try to be the man you need me to be."

You smiled faintly, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. "I don’t need you to be perfect, Stephen. I just need you to stay."

In that moment, with his hand in yours and the world held at bay, it felt like maybe—just maybe—this time, things could be different.

#stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader

145 notes · View notes

claramelooo · 4 days ago

Text

CRIMSON REVERIE

Hey, guys! We reached the end, I must say I loved it. Happy ending for everyone!!!

Enjoy it! <3

Pairing: Dark!Witch Wanda x Fem Reader x AgathaRio

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warnings: angs, smut and happy end

Summary: The guardian changes everything

Hey. Now I've a masterlist

INFINITY

The room was an echo of despair, a space where time seemed to halt in the face of Wanda's emotional devastation. The dimness was pierced only by the unstable flickers of spells, trembling like flames in agony, reflecting the chaos within her. Her fingers shook as she frantically leafed through grimoires, her eyes scanning lines of text that blurred before the teary haze clouding her vision.

Her heart pounded like a discordant drum, each beat a cruel reminder of the void consuming her. With every spell, every failed attempt to locate Agatha and the people she loved, her frustration grew. It wasn’t just anger; it was something far deeper, an existential fury threatening to devour everything around her.

When the door to the room burst open, interrupting her frenzy, Wanda didn’t even turn. “What are you doing here?” she growled, her voice dripping with venom.

Stephen Strange entered hesitantly but resolutely, his expression grave. “What am I doing here?” he echoed in response to Wanda’s cutting glare. “A Guardian and her daughter, two Solis, have been taken. Do you think that doesn’t affect me? That I don’t understand what this means for the universe?”

Wanda laughed without humor, a hollow sound that reverberated through the room like muffled thunder. She rose slowly, the energy around her rippling menacingly. “They’re not just Solis,” she replied, her voice sharp as glass. “They are my life. My reason. And no universe is worth more than them.”

Strange took a step forward, trying to strike a balance between authority and empathy. “Wanda, what you’re doing—what you’re considering—could tear the fabric of reality. You know this.” His eyes locked onto hers, seeking to understand the depth of her pain. “Whatever you do, Wanda, it has to be done with caution. The universe is at stake.”

She stared at him with a chill that could freeze hell itself. “Caution?” Her laugh was dark now, almost deranged. “Caution is what made me vulnerable. Caution is what made me lose everything before. And if I have to destroy the multiverse to bring them back, so be it.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Strange, for a moment, couldn’t find words. He knew she was beyond reason, but he couldn’t ignore the raw humanity in her eyes, the terror masked by determination.

“You’re a monster,” he finally murmured, not with hatred but with sorrow. “Look at what you’re becoming, Wanda.”

She blinked, her face twisting with something that looked like pain but was quickly replaced by icy anger. “I am not a monster, Strange.” she said, each word laced with conviction and bitterness. “I am a broken woman. A mother who failed. A wife who couldn’t protect her family. And now, I will do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes…”

Strange tried once more. “Do you think bringing your family back this way will heal you? Will it erase what you’ve lost? Or will it only create more pain?”

She smiled, but the smile was empty, devoid of any warmth. “I’m not looking for healing, Stephen. I just want them back.”

The air around her began to vibrate, the walls seeming to close in, suffused by the energy emanating from Wanda. Strange watched the growing purple magic, a harbinger of apocalypse, and knew he was losing the battle.

“If you go down this path, Wanda, there’s no turning back,” he said, his voice desperate. “You’ll destroy everything.”

She didn’t hesitate, not for a second. “I’ve already lost everything, Strange. Do you think I care about losing the rest?”

With a gesture, she pushed him away, an invisible barrier preventing him from coming closer. Strange stood helplessly as Wanda closed her eyes and surrendered completely to the power consuming her.

In that moment, she was no longer just the Scarlet Witch. She was a woman willing to burn the universe just to feel the warmth of her family once more.

[...]

In the heart of the grove, where sunlight filtered through the trees like golden tears, a faceless woman walked, her steps gentle on the leaf-strewn earth. Her garments were ancient, imposing in their simplicity, and her brown hair danced with the wind. She cradled a baby, small and fragile, in her arms. The baby nestled against her, seeking solace in her presence, its lips curving softly as it fed on the life she offered.

The love between them was palpable, almost visible, like a warm, comforting aura spreading through the surroundings. Every gesture, every sigh of the woman seemed imbued with infinite tenderness, a devotion that transcended time. Yet, there was sadness in her eyes, something that couldn’t be erased by the sweetness of the moment. She seemed burdened by guilt, as if something had been lost or broken, something that could not be mended, even in the warmth of maternal love.

And then, in the shadow of the trees, another woman appeared, her eyes silently observing. She stood at a distance, but her presence was unmistakable, as if she knew that scene, those moments, from an immemorial time. Her gaze was full of love but also profound sorrow, a sadness that seemed to span across all past lives. She watched the woman with the baby as though she somehow knew what the future held for them. There was no fear, only a serene, painful acceptance of something that could not be changed.

In that moment, you feared for their lives, feared for the fate looming over the faceless woman and her child. But then, as you looked closer, the fear dissipated. The observing woman’s gaze was one of pure, almost unconditional love, as if that baby were a promise, a continuity of something greater, something that transcended the lines of time and life.

Their love, the silent and eternal bond, echoed in your soul like a distant melody, and you felt that perhaps this was the true essence of what you had always sought: a family, a deep connection, something that defies time and space.

But the dream dissolved quickly, like a soft breeze at dawn, and you woke, lost and confused, to the sound of Seline’s cries, still so small, still so vulnerable.

The dream was still vivid in your mind as you woke, breathless and disoriented, your eyes adjusting to the dimness of the unfamiliar room. Seline’s cries, weak and hungry, pierced the quiet, reminding you of reality. She was with you, she was your daughter, but something felt wrong. The disorientation lingered, and the world around you felt distant, as if you were trapped between two worlds.

The room was gloomy, the dim light barely illuminating the outlines of the walls, and the sound of Seline's crying seemed to echo in the back of your mind. You felt a crushing pressure on your chest—a mix of disorientation and anger, the heat of growing fear spreading through every part of your being. When Agatha and Rio entered, something in the atmosphere shifted—a heavy, tense silence.

"But look who’s awake—the Guardian herself," Agatha murmured sharply, her piercing eyes fixed on you. Her tone carried an air of superiority, as if she were studying a chess piece she already knew how to maneuver.

Instinct took over. The desperation and need to protect your daughter made you rise quickly from the bed, your body heavy and almost uncontrollable. Your eyes locked on Seline, lying there so vulnerable. Your arms stretched toward her, frantic, as though it was the last thing you could do to save her.

"How do you know about this?" you demanded, your voice tearing through the air with a raw, defiant edge. There was no room for doubt or weakness now—not with Seline so close.

Agatha smirked slightly, her dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of sarcasm and knowing. "Oh, dear… I know so many things," she replied smoothly, as though discussing something trivial. Her confidence was infuriating.

You took a step toward them, your gaze locked on Agatha, a flicker of magic starting to tingle in your hands, ready to be unleashed. But as you extended your fingers, expecting the energy to flow as it always did, something was wrong. The power didn’t manifest. The emptiness inside you was worse than any physical pain. Where was the necklace? Where was the artifact that gave your magic the strength to fight? Frustration turned to dread.

"I can’t..." your voice faltered for a moment, your eyes darting to the emptiness. You felt powerless, as if all the forces around you had been stripped away. The vulnerability was unbearable.

Agatha observed your discomfort with amused eyes, as though she had anticipated your every move. "You do know, don’t you, that without that necklace, you're nothing more than an ordinary woman?" she said softly, her malice veiled, but you wouldn’t be fooled by her calm demeanor.

Before you could respond, Rio Vidal stepped forward, her eyes as silent as her presence. She seemed like the calm to Agatha’s storm. "You and your daughter are not mere Guardians, my dear," she said with an unsettling softness, her words hanging heavily in the air. "You have a destiny far greater, something that transcends the role you think you play."

Confusion swelled in your chest, and you felt as though the ground was crumbling beneath you. Something greater? What did they mean by that?

Before you could question further, Agatha stepped forward, her lips curling into a triumphant smile. "You and Seline are part of something much larger, much grander than the simple protection of the Infinite," she said, pausing to let her revelation linger before continuing, "You are key pieces in a greater plan—one you don’t even comprehend yet. The fate of the entire universe is intertwined with yours."

The shock was immediate, like a cold blade piercing your heart. You felt the weight of Agatha’s words as an overwhelming burden. The idea that your daughter—that you—were mere pawns in a far vaster game… It seemed impossible, implausible. Yet, somehow, you felt a strange truth in it all.

Your mind began to spin, the pieces slowly falling into place, but doubt, fear, and anger filled your heart. How could this be true? How could anyone use your daughter and you this way? But, deep down, you knew there was more behind all of it, something far beyond what you could imagine.

The air in the room grew even denser as your words came out, weak and trembling but laced with venomous concern. "Where is Wanda? The boys?" you asked, your voice low, almost breaking, as if every word was a painful effort. The emptiness in your chest only grew.

Agatha observed you, her eyes annoyingly calm, as if your pain were merely a temporary distraction. "Wanda?" she repeated, chuckling lightly. "Poor Wanda… Do you really think she can do anything against me?" Agatha’s arrogance was palpable, as though she were speaking of a child who hadn’t yet realized how insignificant they were.

You tried to focus, but your mind was still hazy, the physical and mental pain making it harder to think clearly. The worry for Wanda and the children, the fear of not knowing what had happened to them—it was all suffocating.

"Wanda... She will kill you..." The threat slipped out without a filter, a whisper laced with anger and apprehension. But to your surprise, Agatha seemed utterly unbothered. On the contrary, she let out a quiet, almost mocking laugh.

Agatha crossed her arms, slowly approaching. "Oh, dear," she began, her voice soft but dripping with venom. "I know exactly what Wanda is capable of. And I know what she cannot do. I am more than prepared for anything she might try," she said with overwhelming confidence, as if the future were already written and she knew exactly where you and Wanda fit into the story.

The fear you felt for Wanda, for your children, for everything that was happening, quickly turned into a wave of fury. She wasn’t just playing with you; she was toying with everyone’s lives. But what scared you most was how completely she seemed to have control over everything. And so far, you didn’t even know where to start fighting back.

Agatha was smiling, a look of malicious satisfaction on her face, as if she knew exactly what was about to happen. "I know her so well that I can tell she will arrive in 3… 2… 1…" Agatha said, her voice calm and brimming with confidence. She barely had time to finish her sentence before a deafening noise shook the cabin's roof, making the walls vibrate.

The sound came from outside, powerful, a crash so loud it felt as if the sky itself were collapsing. Agatha laughed, a low, satisfied sound. "Maximoffs… Always so punctual, aren’t they?" She turned toward the door as if she had been expecting the impact of Wanda’s arrival.

But before you could react, dark energy rose in the air—a magic ancient and powerful—wrapping around your wrists and ankles. You struggled, but the magical chains tightened around you, immobilizing your body with inhuman strength. Your hands were bound, unable to cast any spells. You screamed, trying to break free, but the chains only tightened, as though they were draining your energy.

"No!" You screamed, your voice desperate as you felt panic take hold of you. The magical chains bound you in place, and the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. The scream echoed through the room, piercing the walls, and your eyes frantically searched for Seline, only to see her being taken by Rio. Every movement Rio made was smooth but deadly precise, as if she had calculated every second, every gesture. She was moving away, Seline in her arms, far from your protection.

"Seline!" you cried out, the desperation in your voice more evident than ever.

At that moment, the energy in the room shifted. The air grew dense, heavier, and a wave of power filled the space. Wanda's eyes glowed a deep red, and a burst of scarlet energy swept through the cabin's entrance, throwing Agatha and Rio backward with force. The Scarlet Witch was there.

"Wanda!" you called out, your heart pounding harder at the sight of her entering, her hair floating around her like flames, anger burning in her eyes. She looked at you with a single glance that carried the fury of a storm.

Agatha, however, didn't seem surprised by Wanda's arrival. She straightened, smiling at her with the confidence only she could exude. "I see you've arrived... and with company, I see... Afraid, darling?" Agatha said, her arrogance boundless.

"Get out of my way, Agatha," Wanda replied, her voice as cold as ice. She raised her hand, and an explosion of red magic lit up the room, but Agatha dodged effortlessly, her smile never wavering.

"You don't understand, Wanda," Agatha hissed. "The girl and your daughter are just tools for a much greater purpose. A purpose far beyond anything you can control."

"Don't you dare touch them," Wanda growled, the magic around her growing even more intense.

At that moment, Rio prepared to cast another spell but was interrupted when Natasha, Captain Marvel, and the other Avengers stormed in with overwhelming force. Thor roared, his hammer carrying the weight of all thunder as he charged at Agatha's forces, breaking the magical barriers.

But Agatha wasn't willing to back down. She raised a hand, conjuring a storm of purple energy that swept across the battlefield, potent magic filled with intent.

Wanda focused, her magic becoming an unstoppable force, rivaling Agatha's. The two powers collided, creating a wave of energy that shook the ground, and the battle between the two witches was breathtaking. But deep down, you knew this fight was much more than just a battle of magic. It was a fight for your family, for Seline, for everyone she loved.

The unfolding battle was indescribable, a clash of powers that seemed to defy the laws of reality. Wanda, her scarlet energy radiating from her body like an uncontrollable wildfire, stood against Agatha Harkness, whose smile was as sharp as a blade. Yet something even more threatening was about to reveal itself.

Rio Vidal, with her quiet and haunting presence, seemed merely an observer, but there was something in her eyes—something that made the air around her feel colder, denser. She was still, but her aura of death was unmistakable. It was as if life itself was being drained away from her, and her power extended far beyond mere witchcraft, something much older, more primordial.

Rio spoke in a low voice, dripping with silent malice: "You are dealing with something far beyond your comprehension."

The red light around Wanda intensified, but before she could react, Rio moved with supernatural agility. She raised a hand, and instantly the air seemed to freeze. An absolute silence fell over the room, as if the world had stopped breathing.

The spell Rio cast was instant and ruthless. The shadows around her stretched out like tendrils, engulfing the space and beginning to consume everything around.

The energy seemed to erode the very essence of life, and the shadows swallowed the Avengers one by one, as if they were being torn apart by an invisible force. Thor's hammer was flung away, the light of its energy disappearing before the shadows. The sight of the chains of death that Rio created was terrifying, as though the fabric of reality itself was being torn apart.

But the worst was yet to come. With a simple wave of her hand, Rio Vidal summoned a torrent of energy that erupted from the ground like a hurricane, a black, pulsating wave that consumed everything in its path. It was Death itself personified, a primordial force that even Wanda seemed unable to contain.

"That's what's truly terrifying, Wanda," Rio said, her voice as cold as the winds of death. "I am the true mistress of the end."

When Rio looked directly at Wanda, the aura of Death around her intensified, and the room was filled with a crushing pressure, as if the entire weight of the universe was being compressed into a single point. The sensation of death spread through the atsmosphere like a fog, and Wanda's strength, as powerful as it was, began to waver under Rio's absolute dominance.

But Wanda was not one to give in so easily. She raised her hands, and a burst of scarlet power swept through the room. The clash between Death and the Scarlet Witch was like the collision of two opposing elemental forces. The energy exploded in the air, creating a wave that made the walls tremble and the lights flicker.

"You can't stop me, Rio!" Wanda shouted, her voice full of fury and pain. "You don't stop a woman like me."

The streaks of red energy collided with Rio's shadows, and the impact generated a shockwave that shook the foundations of the room. It was as if the very air was being torn apart, the two powers clashing with a violence that almost destroyed the space around them.

Yet despite Wanda's overwhelming power, Rio continued to resist, her shadow of Death enveloping everything around her. Her presence made everything seem dark, hopeless, and for a moment, it seemed as if the balance between life and death might be disrupted.

"You'll need more than anger to defeat me, Wanda," Rio said, an enigmatic smile on her lips. "I am the natural order of all things, baby."

Wanda, however, was not willing to back down. The sight of Seline, still far from her, was all she needed to fuel her determination. She would not let death defeat her. Not again.

Tony Stark, with his usual irreverence, watched Agatha with a cynical smile as he adjusted his battle gloves. He faced the powerful witch, analyzing her with the eyes of someone about to deliver a comment to make the situation even more interesting.

"So, Agatha, is it?" Tony began, making an exaggerated gesture toward the witch's dress. "Is that medieval witchcraft look trending? You're really channeling that 'evil grandma' vibe, or is it just your personal style?"

Agatha, without losing her composure, shot him a frosty glare. "Oh. So, you think this is a joke?"

Tony shrugged, feigning indifference to the veiled threat. "Of course. Who wouldn’t want to be a supervillain with such... unique style?" He then paused, eyeing her up and down with exaggerated flair. "I’d say you and Mother Nature over there are in a fierce competition for who has more branches on their head, but, well, you’ve already won."

Rio, focused on the battle and beginning to feel the tension, wasn’t amused. The jealous look she shot Tony was immediate. She was ready to intervene, no matter what it took.

Agatha, with a sly smile, was about to reply with more venom, but before she could, Rio made a swift motion with her hand, releasing a wave of dark energy toward Tony.

"I think this little chat has gone on long enough, tin man," Rio said, her voice soft yet menacing.

The energy engulfed Tony in an explosion of shadows, leaving him barely enough time to react. The fight between Wanda and Agatha momentarily took a backseat as Rio attacked with the intensity of a storm. The humor vanished in an instant, replaced by a new, deadlier tension.

"Little Death," Tony coughed out, still wearing his signature smirk. "I knew it was only a matter of time before your lesbian jealousy kicked in and you lost your patience, but I didn’t think it’d be this quick. Also, this suit is brand new, and—"

Agatha glanced at Rio with a victorious smile, as if fully aware that Rio’s unexpected action had drawn all the attention away from the battlefield.

And then, magically, the man’s mouth was gone.

"Sometimes, tin man, the best answer is the simplest: shut up."

The battlefield around you was chaos. Energy beams, spells, and explosions filled the air, but in the depths of your mind, the only sound you could hear was the voice of your deepest instincts—a soft, commanding voice echoing within your being:

Shine for us. Shine for them.

It was as if the voice spoke directly to your soul, guiding you, awakening something ancient and divine within you. The pain that followed was unbearable—tearing through your flesh, your bones, your mortality. Yet instead of fear, you felt a surge of power, a growing force from within. And as you opened your eyes, you saw your mortal shell disintegrating, revealing something far greater.

You ascended, soaring skyward, the energy emanating from you illuminating the battlefield with a golden light that drew every gaze. Your power was absolute. You were glorious. It was as though the cosmos itself bowed before your essence.

The air around you shifted. The world paused for a second.

Your bones seemed to restructure into something stronger, more resilient. Your skin glowed as if made of starlight. Then, with a triumphant burst, massive wings of light erupted from your back, each beat powerful enough to make the heavens part in reverence. You felt an uncontrollable power within you, the energy of the universe coursing through your veins. With a single push, you shattered the magical restraints Rio had cast upon you.

Agatha, usually so composed and full of words, was silent, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open, unable to comprehend what had just transpired.

“No…” Agatha whispered, as if the vision before her was an abomination, but in truth, it was the manifestation of what you truly were.

Below you, Wanda looked up, her eyes shining with a reverence she had never shown before. She saw you in a new light, transcendent and divine. Not just as the Guardian, not just as her wife and the mother of her child, but as a force of nature—someone beyond time and space. Her eyes were filled with adoration, her soul touched by the sight of you—glorious, powerful, something beyond human yet undeniably hers.

You needed no words. There was no need. The light emanating from you said it all. She rose toward you, as if you were the reason for existence itself. She knew you were the future, the beginning, and the end.

You felt your power expanding, and as you looked at Wanda, you knew the fight wasn’t over. But now, more than ever, you had the strength to fight for her, for Seline, for everyone you loved.

You shone, and everyone could see it now.

The sound of your wings beating was almost ethereal, a striking contrast to the devastated battlefield. You landed gracefully, your golden glow bringing an indescribable calm to the chaos. Wanda gazed at you, her eyes full of questions and hesitation. You, however, gave her a serene, confident smile and spoke with a voice that seemed to embrace her soul:

"Go get the children, my love."

It was a command, yet also a plea. Wanda hesitated for a moment, but then, as if the peace in your voice melted away any doubt, she nodded and disappeared into the horizon. For a moment, the war felt like a distant memory.

You turned to Agatha and Rio. Your golden eyes met Rio’s, filled with suppressed rage and palpable fear. Without a word, you took a step forward, facing her. The tension was suffocating. But something in your gaze—a mix of understanding and respect—disarmed her. Rio swallowed hard, her powerful demeanor faltering, and then, against all expectations, she gave a slight nod, allowing you to approach Agatha. Deep in her eyes, there was something more profound: silent tears of understanding only she possessed.

You walked slowly toward Agatha, who watched you with a confused and defensive expression. When you stopped in front of her, she raised her chin as if to challenge anything you might say or do. But you didn’t attack. Instead, your hand rose slowly, touching her cheek with a tenderness that completely caught her off guard.

"I see you…" you whispered, your words carrying the weight of ages. Your eyes glowed brighter, as if unraveling every thread of pain and suffering she had ever endured in the palm of your hand. "Your pain. You are ambitious… and you’ve carved painful paths for yourself."

Agatha’s mask began to crumble. Her eyes welled up, and for the first time in a long time, she looked vulnerable. There was no sarcastic laughter, no taunts—only a woman whose story was being laid bare, with no place to hide.

"Close your eyes, Agatha."

You tilted your head, silently conveying that no harm would come of it. After a long pause, Agatha huffed reluctantly and closed her eyes.

"And why should I?" she snapped, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and insecurity. But her guard was down now, just enough for you to notice the doubt in her stance.

The world around her dissolved. When she opened her eyes again, they were in a completely different place: a tranquil forest bathed in a soft, golden light. It was the same forest from your dreams. The air was heavy with memories but also carried something purer, more sincere.

Agatha glanced around, confused, and then her eyes fixed on something in the distance: a woman in old-fashioned clothing, cradling a baby to her chest. She seemed lost in thought, her face obscured by shadows, but the love in her gestures was unmistakable. Behind her, another figure watched with care, filled with reverence and an overwhelming sadness.

"You're the little boy's mother, aren't you?" you asked, your voice gentle but precise. Agatha's body stiffened beside you. She didn't respond immediately, but you felt the tension growing like a storm about to break.

"What do you know about that?" Agatha finally asked, her voice low and dangerous, but tinged with something deeper: fear.

You turned your gaze to her, your eyes gleaming with a light that seemed to uncover every piece of her soul. "I know enough, Agatha. And now, you will too."

The air in the forest pulsed with energy, every leaf and branch vibrating with the weight of the moment. Agatha remained rigid beside you, her eyes locked on the woman in the distance. When you mentioned the name "Nicholas," something inside her seemed to shatter. She took a step back, as if fleeing were an option.

"I can't..." she murmured, her voice almost inaudible but laden with weight. "Nicholas would never forgive me if he saw all the terrible things I've done."

You looked at her, the light in your eyes growing brighter as if trying to illuminate the shadows she carried. "Are you so certain of that, Agatha? Or is that just fear speaking? Shame?"

Agatha let out a dry laugh, devoid of humor. "Fear? Shame? Perhaps both. Do you know what I've done? How many lives I've taken? He... he was just a boy, and I... I lost everything trying to bring him back." Her voice broke at the end, and you saw the tears already streaming down her face.

You stepped closer, your presence radiating calm and understanding. "You’ve lost so much, Agatha. I know that. But hiding behind guilt won’t change what happened. Nor will it undo what you’ve done."

"I don't deserve his forgiveness!" Agatha shouted, her voice echoing through the forest. "How could I? I betrayed everything he stood for. I became... something he would never recognize."

You shook your head slowly, your expression full of empathy. "And yet, he’s here. Because his love for you is greater than any mistake you’ve made."

Agatha squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out your words, but they had already pierced deep. "You don’t understand... I’ve seen the looks of those who hated me. Who feared me. He would do the same."

"You don’t know that," you replied, your voice firm yet gentle. "What you’re truly afraid of is believing that he could still love you. What if I told you he already forgave you, Agatha? That all he wants is to see you, to touch you, to feel the love you still carry for him?"

Agatha opened her eyes, the weight in her gaze almost tangible. "What if I can’t? What if I... what if I fail him again?"

You smiled—a sad but resolute smile. "You’ll only fail if you don’t try. Come. See him. Not for you, but for him. He deserves this, Agatha."

She hesitated, her breathing unsteady as her eyes returned to the scene ahead. The boy let out a soft laugh in the woman’s arms, and the sound seemed to break through every defense Agatha had built. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she nodded, her steps slow and unsure as you guided her.

"If he hates me..." she began, but you interrupted her.

"Then you’ll show him that, despite everything, the love you feel is real. And that he will always be your son."

As Agatha took each step toward the boy, a storm of emotions consumed her. It was as if every memory, every decision, every mistake hit her all at once. She remembered the witches she had deceived and betrayed, their faces still vivid in her mind. Some had begged for mercy, others had fought to the end, but all had fallen for her singular goal.

Flashes of her spells, the marks of her ambition etched into her opponents, and the screams of her victims haunted her. The lies she told, the alliances she destroyed—everything she did to achieve something she knew she could never reach on her own: Nicholas. Her boy.

Then came Seline. Her plan to use her had been calculated, almost mechanical at first. She was just a tool, a key to unlock the only thing that mattered. But the idea of taking something so pure, so innocent, to fuel her obsession... it ate away at her.

The boy’s soft cries pulled Agatha back to the present. Her thoughts were still heavy with guilt and regret, but that pure, innocent sound cut through like a blade. When she looked ahead, she saw you cradling the small baby, your posture serene as you murmured softly:

"You came from scratch..." Your words were almost a whisper, but they carried an ancient power, echoing in Agatha’s heart as if they were memories from another life. They were the same words she had once spoken, in a moment of vulnerability and magic.

Agatha's blue eyes brimmed with tears, unable to hold back the drops that slowly rolled down her cheeks. She couldn't look away from the boy—so small, so fragile, yet carrying the weight of her entire story.

You paused, your eyes glowing with an intense golden hue, as though something beyond the physical world had been revealed to you. Then, the vision came—clear and vibrant: Nicholas, now grown, running through a flower-filled garden, his laughter echoing like music. His brown hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead as he played joyfully. Beside him, a little girl with bright eyes and a radiant smile ran along, their bond of camaraderie evident.

The vision brought a genuine smile to your face, filled with satisfaction and peace. "Fate has drawn the right lines this time," you thought, feeling lighter, as though something greater had fallen into balance again.

When you offered the baby to Agatha, she hesitated. Her hands trembled, the thin, scarred fingers hovering in the air, almost afraid to touch him. At last, she took him into her arms, holding him with a gentleness that seemed incongruent with her hardened and imposing demeanor.

"Find your path again, Agatha," you said, your voice soft but firm, filled with an inescapable truth.

Agatha looked at you, still reluctant to let her facade crumble completely. "I’ll never forget this," she replied, her tone attempting to mask her vulnerability, but her tears betrayed her stoicism.

You smiled sweetly, almost maternally, as though you understood every barrier she tried to erect. "You won’t need to," you replied, your certainty shining like the stars.

As Agatha held Nicholas, something within her shifted. The weight of guilt didn’t vanish, but for the first time in millennia, a small spark of hope and redemption began to grow. The boy stopped crying and wrapped his tiny hand around her finger, and in that simple gesture, Agatha felt that maybe—just maybe—she could be something more than she had been until now.

[...]

The Christmas dinner was about to begin. Guests were likely already arriving, the laughter and chatter of children echoing through the house adorned with golden lights and wreaths. But you and Wanda were late. More than that: unavailable.

Upstairs, in the bedroom, things were far from festive—at least, in the conventional sense.

Wanda had pushed you onto the bed with an almost predatory hunger as soon as you crossed the door. Her eyes were dark, glowing with a lust that made you forget everything else. Her fingers trailed your skin with precision, as if she wanted to mark every inch of you before any of the guests downstairs had the chance to see you.

“You know they’re waiting for us…” you murmured between gasps, trying to sound responsible but failing miserably. Your fingers were tangled in Wanda’s hair, tugging slightly as she bit your neck.

“They can wait.” Her voice was low, heavy with desire. “You’re my present, and I’m not sharing.”

She kissed you again, this time more fiercely, as if trying to consume every breath you took. The touch of her hands on your thighs, moving slowly upward, sent a shiver through your entire body.

"My pretty little girl looks so beautiful today." Her fingers moved to your clothes, tugging at the fabric impatiently. "But I prefer you like this—naked. Mine. Only mine."

The possessive declaration made your heart race. Wanda had always been like this—intense, consuming—but today, there was something more. A kind of urgency, as though every second away from you had been unbearable.

“If anyone downstairs dares to ask where you are,” she murmured against your neck, biting softly before moving up to your lips, “I’ll tell them the truth. That you’re here. Wide open for me. Screaming my name.”

You couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips, and Wanda smiled against your skin. “Mommy...”

"Do you like that idea, my doll? Everyone knowing you belong to me?"

You nodded frantically, incapable of forming a coherent response as her fingers traced slow, torturous circles over your most sensitive spot.

“They’ll hear you,” Wanda whispered, increasing the pace. “They’ll hear you begging for me.”

Your body began to arch against the mattress, your moans turning into something deeper, more primal. And Wanda was ecstatic, watching you like this—so vulnerable, so surrendered. She knew that no one, absolutely no one, would ever see you like this. Not even in their wildest dreams.

“Come on…” She tilted her head, her lips brushing your ear. “Give me everything. Show me who you really are when you’re with me. My precious little slut. My angel.”

It was as if something inside you shattered. The pleasure that had been building erupted, spreading through your body like liquid fire, consuming every thought, every sensation, until all that remained was Wanda. Wanda and pure, unfiltered ecstasy.

And then it happened.

You screamed her name, the sound reverberating through the room, and at that moment, your wings emerged.

Massive, majestic wings made of light and shadow exploded from your back. They spread with a snap, illuminating the room like a celestial display. Their weight made the mattress sink slightly, and the air around you crackled with an otherworldly energy.

Wanda froze for a moment, her eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. It was always breathtaking when it happened. You were transformed. Radiant. Divine.

But the surprise quickly gave way to adoration.

“Fuck…” Wanda murmured, her eyes gleaming with something almost reverent. She ran her hand over the feathers of your wings, feeling their soft, ethereal texture. “You… you’re so beautiful.”

Her touch on your wings sent a delightful shiver down your spine. It was as if the wings were an extension of your own nerves, sensitive to her touch, reacting to the slightest movement.

“I love your wings,” Wanda said in a low, almost reverent tone as her fingers glided over the soft feathers. There was something different in her voice—not just admiration, but a hint of possessiveness, as if those wings were an extension of her, something she had awakened in you.

You let out a short laugh, still trying to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "If I’m an angel, then what does that make you? A demon?"

Wanda lifted her gaze, a slow, dangerous smile curving her lips. Her eyes gleamed with something between pride and desire, but there was also a touch of darkness—a reminder that, although you were shining now, it was she who had ignited this flame.

“A demon?” she murmured, leaning in to brush her lips against yours. “No… something worse. Something that corrupts naive little girls like you. Something that makes them want to surrender to their own darkness.”

A shiver ran down your spine as her words wrapped around you like invisible threads, binding you again to that place between devotion and submission.

“Don’t forget that,” Wanda continued, her tone firm and possessive but tinged with the kind of tenderness only she could offer. “Everything you are now—your light, your wings, even the strength you feel—it’s all a part of me. I planted it in you. And I will never let you forget.”

Your wings trembled slightly under her touch, as if they themselves responded to that truth. You smiled, closing your eyes for a moment as you let it all sink in.

“Then maybe I am your angel,” you whispered, opening your eyes to meet her burning gaze. “But you will always be my darkness.”

Wanda’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile before she kissed you again—a kiss filled with unspoken promises, with a love that burned and illuminated at once.

“My light,” she murmured against your lips, her fingers still tracing along the feathers of your wings. “And I, your chaos.”

Wanda smirked, a proud, satisfied expression crossing her face. She pulled you into a deep, slow kiss, as if sealing the moment between you two. When she pulled away, her intense gaze burned into yours, leaving a heat on your skin.

“Now, my light,” she whispered, “let’s head downstairs. I’m sure our guests have arrived—or, at the very least, the kids are planning to set the house on fire.”

You chuckled softly, a charming sound that lit the air. “On Christmas night? They wouldn’t want to miss out on pie…”

As you descended the stairs, the house was alive with laughter and noise. The doorbell rang persistently, accompanied by the sounds of Tommy tugging at Sparky in an animated tug-of-war. Billy, unfazed by the chaos, stood near the fireplace, angling for the perfect selfie. Seline, ever curious, crouched by the Christmas tree, shaking gifts in an attempt to guess their contents.

“Ah, so they do want to miss out on dessert,” you remarked, raising your eyebrows as Wanda sighed, crossing her arms and shooting a sharp look at the trio.

“Definitely no pie.”

“Tommy, let go of the dog. Billy, put the phone away. Seline…” Wanda paused, searching for the right words as she caught the little girl using her magic to peel back a piece of wrapping paper. “If I hear even one piece of tape tearing, you’d better be ready to explain to the pumpkin pie why you won’t be eating it.”

At the sound of Wanda’s voice, Seline quickly stood up and pointed at the gifts.

“I was just checking! I promise I didn’t open any!” she said, hands raised as though surrendering.

Wanda shook her head, sighing. “How does she have your entire personality?” she muttered to you, though there was a glint of pride in her eyes.

Before you could respond, the doorbell rang again—this time longer and more impatient.

“If it’s not them, whoever it is is about to get a lesson in patience,” Wanda grumbled as you moved to answer the door.

The moment you opened it, Nicholas darted inside like a ray of sunshine against the snow outside. He practically leapt into your arms, his wide smile lighting up his face.

“Auntie!” he exclaimed, brimming with the kind of energy only a child could have. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, making you crouch to hug him back.

In his small hands, a shiny wrapped box dangled precariously. From the way he clutched it, you knew exactly who it was for. The sparkle in Nicholas’ eyes, mixed with innocent anticipation, warmed your heart in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

You smiled, keeping your voice low so only he could hear. “Hey, sweetheart. Seline’s just by the tree. She hasn’t stopped talking about you for a second.”

Nicholas’ brown eyes widened, a different kind of sparkle dancing in them—something between happiness and a shy sweetness you rarely saw in him. He didn’t reply, just nodded quickly before darting in the direction you’d indicated, his steps light and eager.

Leaning against the doorframe, you watched the little ones. Nicholas placed the box carefully beside Seline, who, curious as ever, leaned in to open it—but not without glancing at him first, as though seeking permission.

The scene was so simple, yet in that moment, you saw your vision from months ago coming to life. The children’s laughter filled the air, exactly as it had in the image of the future destiny had shown you.

Nicholas, his messy brown hair damp with a light sheen of sweat, extended something small and golden to Seline. She, with Wanda’s eyes but a mischievous smile that was unmistakably her own, took the object carefully. And suddenly, as if time paused for a brief instant, you knew the line of destiny had been drawn perfectly.

You turned to find Wanda standing beside you. There was something in the way she looked at Seline and Nicholas—a mix of protectiveness, unease, and that playful jealousy she always pretended was stronger than it actually was.

Behind Nicholas came Agatha, draped in an elegant purple coat that seemed more fit for a queen than a family dinner. Her eyes swept the room with that familiar blend of veiled criticism and sly amusement that was her trademark.

“Well, what a charming Christmas tableau,” she commented, her tone almost sweet but sufficiently loaded to raise suspicion. “You still insist on keeping the tree so over-the-top, Wanda? It looks like every branch is in existential crisis, torn between too much decoration or total collapse.”

Wanda appeared in the doorway, her gaze sharp as a freshly honed blade. “Better over-the-top than monochromatic and dreary, Agatha. At least the kids don’t leave crying, thinking they’ve stumbled into a haunted mansion.”

Agatha’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Monochromatic is refined, dear. But I understand—not everyone has the capacity to appreciate subtlety. Some people need… twinkling lights to mask their lack of taste.”

Wanda crossed her arms, leaning slightly forward. “And some people need constant sarcasm to mask the fact that the last Christmas they celebrated was in the Middle Ages, isn’t that right?”

Agatha theatrically huffed. “Oh, Wanda, always so dramatic. It’s almost inspiring. But you know what’s even more inspiring? The courage to wear so much red and not look like a department store decoration.”

Wanda sweetly smiled, that dangerous smile you knew so well. “Says the expert in purple, the favorite color of villains in children’s books.”

At that moment, Rio walked into the room, casually adjusting her necklace while looking at the two of them with an expression of long-suffering patience. “You two never get tired, do you?”

Both women scoffed, making you laugh as you gathered the coats.

“Wine?” you asked, gesturing toward the table.

“Red,” Rio replied.

“Excellent choice.”

As you approached the table to fetch the glasses of wine for the women, you felt Wanda’s warm body embrace you from behind. The small, subtle kiss placed just behind your ear made you blush, as always.

When you separated, Wanda whispered to you, “They’re not leaving anytime soon, are they?”

You chuckled softly, squeezing her hand. “Of course not. It’s Christmas, love. And you know they’re our family now.”

Wanda let out an indignant sigh, but with that mischievous smile only she could pull off. “Fine, we’ll endure it. If we stay here too long, someone might set the house on fire, and I’m almost sure it’ll be Agatha.”

Right after, a loud, indignant voice rang out, making everyone in the room turn their heads toward its owner. “Do you know how long it’s been since I set a house on fire?” Agatha retorted, her impeccable posture daring the world.

“Agatha...” Rio warned, her eyes trying to bring calm but tinged with resignation.

“What? I’ve never set a house on fire!” she said, half-offended, half-joking.

“Really? But what about when the White House caught fire that year?” you teased, settling on the armrest of a chair, bringing a glass for yourself and one for Wanda.

Agatha grimaced, clearly displeased at being reminded of that incident. “Oh, that was an accident! I was trying to give Rio... a romantic surprise.” She paused, and everyone looked at her, waiting for more details. “I wanted a candlelit dinner, with fireworks at the end… I got a little carried away, and, well, the White House turned into an impromptu bonfire. But it wasn’t that bad! She loved it!”

“Of course I loved it,” Rio responded with a light laugh. “Who wouldn’t be touched by seeing a historic building go up in flames in the name of love?”

“But I... I’m getting better,” Agatha continued, trying to regain control of the situation.

“You always have an excuse, don’t you, Agatha?” Wanda decided to prod, poking at the woman’s ego.

You glanced at Wanda, who was laughing at the situation but with a touch of concern in her eyes. “Ah… But you’ve got your stories too, my dear,” you whispered to Wanda, making her blush slightly.

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Wanda murmured, raising a hand as if to ward off memories of a past disaster. “One thing’s for sure: if any house catches fire here, Agatha will be the first one blamed.”

The light-hearted mood continued, with everyone laughing and trading barbs, but the energy was undeniably warm. The house was full of life, laughter, and stories, and amidst it all, love was clearly present. Whether between Agatha and Rio or everyone there, something magical lingered in the air—without any fires in sight... for now.

The table was elegantly set, with cod dishes, colorful sides, and glasses clinking with wine flowing generously. Christmas at Wanda’s house was always a mix of magic and chaos, especially now, with Agatha and Rio unofficially mentoring the twins. Dinner, as usual, was filled with banter and laughter.

Tommy, brimming with the typical energy of his 18 years, spoke about his college indecision. “Berkeley seems like a good option… But maybe Stanford? Who knows, I might just flip a coin to decide.”

Wanda rolled her eyes with a playful smile. “Tommy, darling, the universe already handles enough chaos without you flipping coins for life decisions.”

“Exactly, Tommy,” Billy joined in the teasing, “because clearly chaos didn’t start with your habit of being late for everything.”

Laughter rippled through the table, but at some point, Billy’s expression turned thoughtful. He held his glass with exaggerated drama, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Everyone, I think it’s time for a revelation.”

Eyes turned to him, some curious, others with a humorous glint, already predicting what was coming. Billy paused, a true actor on stage, and announced:

“I’m gay.”

A second—maybe two, if someone wanted to exaggerate—of silence fell over the table. Then, collective laughter erupted like a wave.

“Wow, Billy, that was quite the revelation!” Agatha said with a sarcastic smile. “I think we’ll need a moment of silence to process that.”

“Absolutely shocking!” Rio declared, theatrically clutching her chest. “Must be why you spent an hour helping Wanda pick out the most stylish Christmas lights for the porch.”

Billy chuckled, blushing slightly but enjoying the reaction. “Okay, fine. I get it. That was about as shocking as saying the sky is blue.”

“Sweetheart, you ran out my anti-frizz cream,” you teased, laughing.

Wanda raised her glass, her eyes shining with affection. “Billy, darling, I’ll just say this: I’m your mother. I knew before you did. I just waited to see when you’d decide to tell us.”

“By the way,” Agatha interjected with a mischievous grin, “since we’re in a mood for revelations, Tommy, is there something you’d like to share?”

Tommy nearly choked on his juice, his eyes wide. “Me? No! I’m good, thanks. Pass.”

Rio raised an eyebrow, her expression amused. “Relax, Tommy. If you’ve got nothing to share now, we’ll wait. But only until next Christmas, okay?”

The boy shook his head, laughing nervously as everyone enjoyed his flustered state.

Amid the teasing and jokes, dinner remained light and welcoming, with Billy visibly relieved and Wanda watching the scene with a maternal smile. There was magic in that house—both literal and figurative. And while Agatha and Rio’s mentorship helped the twins shape their gifts, it was these simple moments, full of love and laughter, that truly defined the family they had built.

That night, Christmas wasn’t just about gifts or food. It was about natural acceptance, shared laughter, and the kind of love that turns even the most “shocking” revelations into something genuinely beautiful.

[...]

The night gently fell over the house, the cozy silence enveloping everything around. In the shadows of the bedroom, the soft moonlight touched their intertwined bodies, creating an atmosphere where time seemed to slow down. Wanda lay on her side, her penetrating gaze still filled with frustration, but also immense affection. She had lost herself in her thoughts, her arms wrapped around you, almost as if she wanted to keep you all to herself, only hers. But the restlessness wouldn’t leave her.

Finally, she turned to face you, her expression filled with a complex emotion. "This is so unfair! Having a daughter, only for a man to come and take her away from me," she said, pouting like a petulant child, not realizing that what was unfolding was far more than any possessiveness.

You let out a light laugh, full of tenderness, a laugh that felt more like a silent dance between two souls who understand each other without words. "Man? Nicholas is eight." You smiled, a hint of incredulity in your voice. "Wanda, I know you want to protect Selly, but she’s growing. Fate is set."

And when you said that, the sense of inevitability was palpable. Like an invisible current, unseen, but carrying with it the full power of a universe in motion. It was as if the threads of destiny had already been intertwined long before your eyes met, and now, their hands, young and pure, were beginning to reach out for one another.

But Wanda, always so impulsive, couldn't help but contest. "You’re the guardian, aren’t you? Do something." Her green eyes, filled with an irresistible charm, fixed on you, that glint in her gaze revealing she knew exactly what she was doing. You knew she was using this to try to make you change your mind, but you also knew she was just trying not to accept what, deep down, she already knew was true.

"Wanda..." you warned her, but she huffed, clearly frustrated with the impossibility of controlling what was coming.

"It’s just that the boys are already grown, adults, and she’s still my little girl," she confessed quietly, almost like a weakness, and you felt the weight of it, the fear of losing something she had built with so much love and care. But in truth, the reality was that this love was preparing the ground for something even more beautiful.

"Sweetheart, Selly is crazy about you, just like I am, she wouldn’t trade you for anything." You smiled softly, touching her cheek. "But you know... one day, they’ll have to date for real."

Wanda didn’t like that. She didn’t like to imagine her little girl, so pure and sweet, going into a world where things weren’t simple anymore, where feelings were complicated, where promises and destinies tangled in ways that could no longer be controlled.

"Sure, when she’s thirty and living in Canada." She crossed her arms, as if that was the only way to protect what she loved most.

"Wanda!" You laughed, but deep down, your heart was full of immense love, knowing that Wanda's concern was just another layer of protective affection that ended up making everything more beautiful, more real.

"Alright," Wanda finally said, letting out a sigh of surrender. "Just when she’s thirty, no need to go to Canada."

You sighed, a soft smile on your lips. "Wanda…"

"Alright, twenty-nine..." she relented.

You knew that everything that was to come, everything that was unfolding, was being paved by them in an inevitable way. Like two stars slowly drawing closer, pulled by the gravity of the universe, not even knowing they were destined to merge into a single, powerful glow.

The destinies of Seline and Nicholas had been intertwined from the first breath, like invisible threads connecting them without anyone being able to see. It wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about possessiveness. It was about something deeper, something that only time and love could reveal. And you knew that, when the right time came, they would find each other, not by chance, but because it was what the universe had planned.

And Wanda, as much as she wanted to protect Selly from the world, from all the risks, deep down knew that when the time came, it wouldn’t be a loss. It would be the beginning of a new story that would endure until the end of time.

The Infinite was never about a straight line. It was never about time or space, but about the moments that mark our hearts and change everything. Like fingers intertwining, like eyes meeting, like shared sighs in the silence of a cold night. The Infinite is made of choices, of loves, of losses. It is the memory of every step taken, the hope of each new day.

Being the Guardian of the Infinite is not about power, it’s not about controlling what is eternal. You always imagined it would be something grand, something beyond your understanding, but the truth is that the Infinite hides in the small things. In the smile we give to the people we love. In the gentle touch of a hand that holds ours. In the silent promise we make, without words, but with our whole hearts.

You saw the Infinite not as something distant, but as something so close, so vast and yet so delicate, that it made you feel small. Not in a sense of weakness, but in understanding that love — that feeling so simple and yet so complex — is the true force that holds everything. The Infinite is not in the distant stars, but in what is created between people, in those invisible connections that cannot be explained, only felt.

And it was there, in that moment charged with emotion, that you plunged into your own Crimson Reverie, a state where everything was pulsing, vibrant, full of meaning. The red was not just a color; it was a presence, a mark that represented both the intensity of love and the burning wounds it can bring. The Crimson was your bond, your eternal waking dream, a place where love and chaos intertwined, where you and Wanda existed as inseparable forces.

You came to understand that love has no beginning or end, because it is always there, waiting, silent, waiting for us to embrace it. It grows with us, transforms with us. Sometimes it’s sweet, sometimes it’s bitter, but it’s always real. And when we look at the people we love most, we see how strong those bonds are. They are what remains, what crosses time, what endures pain and distance.

This is how the Infinite reveals itself — not in a snap of fingers or in an explosion of power, but in a simple gesture, in a look. The moment you realized that your destiny was not to be the guardian of something immense and incomprehensible, but to be the guardian of the small moments of love that make up life. You are not just a force that holds time, you are a person, with a story, with loves and choices that make you who you are.

And in the end, it is love that writes the story, that gives meaning to what would be just a chaos of purposeless events. Because it is love that transforms, that heals, that blooms amidst grief, that teaches us to be more human. More vulnerable. And perhaps that’s what makes the Infinite so special: it’s not distant, it’s not cold. The Infinite is made of life, of love, of every person who crossed our path and left a mark. And in every moment, in every breath, the Infinite continues, and perpetuates itself, not in something grand, but in the softness of what unites us.

So, perhaps the secret of the Infinite is this: it’s in the simple act of living, of loving, of making mistakes, of starting over. Of knowing that, in the end, what matters is not how much time we have, but how much we love and allow ourselves to be loved. Because love is what makes us eternal. It is what makes us part of the greatness of the Infinite.

And that is what remains.

~*~

Thanks for following Crimson Reverie! And I wish you find your place in infinity <3

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hopelesslygaysstuff · 1 year ago

Text

pairing: wanda maximoff x scarlet witch

summary: wanda meets herself while opening a portal for another bottle of wine, decides "fuck it" and has sex with her other multiversal self

content warnings: wanda fucking herself, and then being fucked... by herself. cunnilingus, fingering, restraints, nipple clamps, vibrator, strap-on sex, mirror sex, subtle choking, begging, overstimulation

word count: 10.6k+

this was requested by a lovely anon!

masterlist

Seeing Double

The walls flicker, the flashing scenes on the television spreading across the room, creating a harsh shadow on the figure seated on the couch. The sounds of nonsensical chattering from the characters on screen fill the silent room, a theme song ringing out as another episode starts playing.

Long fingers reach for the empty glass sitting on the coffee table, grazing the cup before reaching past it and grabbing the wine bottle directly. A few swallows later and Wanda finishes the entire bottle, staring down at it as she processes. The last remnants of the slightly sugary wine slide down her throat, warming her belly as she unfurls her magic throughout the house.

Green eyes turn scarlet as wisps of magic search the different cabinets of the small kitchen. They wrap around each shelf, and Wanda lets a small frown onto her face when she realizes that she’d gone through her last bottle of wine. She calls her magic back, admiring the way it twists around her fingers as she sinks further into the couch.

Picking at a loose thread on her sweater, she realizes that she’s wearing her old Avengers crewneck. Wanda lets the wine bottle slip from her fingers as she remembers the day she received it. Natasha had been the one to give it to her, presenting it all nice and folded and giving her a rare smile. She’d finally understood what it meant to have a team, to have a family, and Wanda blinks when realizes that she’s smiling slightly as she reminisces.

Shaking those melancholic thoughts away, Wanda feels the wine she’d consumed spread throughout her body, warming her up to the very tips of her fingers. It was rather unfortunate that she’d finished that wine, it was one-of-a-kind. Thor himself had brought it to her, after Vision had died, saying something about celebrating life as she’d taken the bottle with trembling hands. She’d stashed it deep in her cellar, behind some random boxes, but had recently found it and decided, why not?

In her tipsy state, Wanda let her magic roam freely, taking a deep breath as the restricting feeling of reigning in her magic disappeared. She sends out a mental apology to Stephen, knowing that she was breaking his strict rules about her magic use.

Honestly, you try to take power from one teenage girl, and all of a sudden you’re a villain?

Wanda scoffs to herself, absentmindedly opening a portal in search of some more wine. Preferably something strong enough to send her to bed early, as the night was still young and her thoughts too raw to handle. She searches for a few moments, before a tug at her magic causes her to halt.

Pausing, Wanda forces herself to focus as she feels yet another tug at her magic. It felt almost… familiar? Her brows furrow, her back straightening as she sits up on the couch, watching the portal spark in front of her.

It seemed to be leading into a kitchen of some sorts, one that looked well decorated, similar to her own, yet significantly larger. Wanda tilts her head, feeling that same strong sensation pull at her magic, something soft yet commanding. She narrows her eyes, finally pinpointing the strand of her magic that was connected to the familiar pull, and tugs.

Something in the portal shifted, and Wanda tenses in anticipation, her heart thudding as her gaze sharpens. A figure moves closer, and Wanda’s eyes meet a very familiar pair of green eyes as a woman walks through the portal. With an absentminded flick of her fingers, the strange woman closes the portal, and Wanda feels yet another tug at her magic.

“Who…?” The words die in Wanda’s throat as the woman turns to face her head-on.

No fucking way.

Wanda feels as though she is trapped in a trance, her eyes raking over the other woman standing in her living room. It was like looking into a mirror, except this version of her had brown hair, and not quite as many wrinkles around her eyes. She is wearing a similar crewneck, hers a faded green color, instead of the red one currently hugging Wanda’s frame.

The only thought running through Wanda’s slightly-tipsy, definitely-not-thinking-clearly brain was that the other woman looked rather hot. One might even say, stunning. She couldn’t help staring at the woman’s chest, having seen that chest in the mirror a thousand times. Except, it was different somehow, seeing her chest on another person.

Fuck, was she attracted to this?

“Hi,” The smooth voice startles Wanda out of whatever trance she’s lost herself in, and she hurriedly moves her eyes away from the other woman’s chest, meeting sparkling green eyes. The shade was familiar, and Wanda couldn't help but match the soft smile the other woman wore.

Those green eyes slowly trace a path down Wanda’s body, leaving trails of fire that ricochet under her skin. She squirms, feeling slightly hot all of a sudden, unused to someone's attention being solely focused on her.

“I apologize,” The woman starts, holding up her hand. In it, is a bottle of wine, and Wanda feels her eyes light up as she subconsciously uses her magic to bring another glass over. “You must be wondering who I am.”

Wanda snorts, feeling her limbs loosen as she slides the glasses over towards her counterpart. “I think I have a pretty good idea who you are.”

Pointedly looking the other woman up and down, Wanda matches the smirk on the brunette’s face, before blinking at the absurdity of her own face staring back at her. She watches her grab the glasses, her long fingers wrapping around the stem as a wisp of scarlet magic pops the cork off of the wine she’d brought.

“Well,” The woman begins, pouring two glasses. The wine is dark, and Wanda couldn’t wait to have a taste, her tongue quickly swiping over her bottom lip. “My name is Wanda, but you knew that already.”

She pauses, taking a step closer to Wanda, who fidgets slightly on the couch. Handing her one of the now-filled glasses of wine, the brunette feels her counterpart's soft fingers graze her own as she accepts the glass. A spark runs down both their arms, and they both raise their eyebrows at the same time, the movement mirrored exactly on the other’s face in a slightly eerie fashion.

“I heard your call, although it rather felt like a strong tug on my magic.” The other Wanda begins, sitting down next to Wanda. She tries not to think about how their legs brush, the heat of the other woman’s thigh sending a different kind of heat racing towards her core.

The other woman shifts again, and Wanda belatedly realizes that her eyes are locked on the same lips as her own. She’d never noticed just how kissable they seemed, it seemed that this night was full of self discovery and pleasant surprises.

At the sound of a throat clearing, Wanda snaps out of her daze, her eyes locking with a matching pair of green ones. A familiar looking smirk plays on her counterpart's lips, and Wanda blinks rapidly as she distracts herself by sipping from her glass.

The wine tastes smooth, rich but not too heavy. Wanda feels her eyebrows steadily rising as she savored the taste of her first sip. She pointedly avoids eye contact with the other woman, feeling slightly intimidated by this other version of herself. She seems a lot more confident in herself, all grace and power with each movement, and Wanda tries not to think about the old crewneck she was wearing, or the comfortable joggers she wears that brush gently against the other woman’s expensive looking slacks.

“Good?” The voice is low, and Wanda can hear traces of her own Sokovian accent as the woman speaks.

Strengthening her resolve, Wanda raises her eyes, feeling as though she was having a slightly out-of-body experience as she meets those eyes. The same ones that look back at her when she dared look in a mirror, green and tired. So very tired, but still sparkling. She wonders what the other version of herself had been through.

“Yes, thank you.” Wanda falters then, not quite knowing what to say. Her counterpart also looks at quite a loss for words, but stretches out slightly on the couch, her posture relaxed. Her arm reaches out, her fingers tentatively splaying on Wanda’s forearm as her eyes search the other’s for permission.

Wanda licks her lips, tasting the remnants of her last sip of wine, before taking a bigger gulp and leaning fully towards the other woman. She smiles, but just with her eyes, her lips parted slightly as she felt her heart race. Fuck, she was actually really attractive. She wonders if her counterpart was different from herself, or if she just didn’t see her own body the way she was seeing it now.

Shaking her head, Wanda brushes the confusion aside, wanting to focus solely on her counterpart. The other woman rests her own glass on her thigh, her hand firmer against Wanda’s forearm as her fingers trace nonsensical patterns into the soft fabric. Her eyes seem slightly unfocused, an adorable crinkle between her eyebrows as she slides her gaze over Wanda’s form.

“So,” Wanda begins, feeling her nerves start to dissipate at the soft glow in her counterpart’s eyes. She leans in, putting her own hand against the other woman’s shoulder, feeling grounded slightly at her other self’s solid form beneath her fingertips. “Tell me all about your timeline, and I’ll share about mine?”

They share a smile, and Wanda relaxes fully as her counterpart begins speaking. She enjoys the sound of her voice, similar to her own but lower, with a slightly raspy undertone. She resolves to practice that voice later, when nobody can hear her. For now, she’s content to listen and learn about the other Wanda’s timeline.

—

‘Holy shit, I’m actually really cool.’

Wanda’s glass is empty, her other self’s glass having been discarded to the floor a long time ago. They’re seated so close to each other that an outsider would have called it cuddling, their hands wandering over each other absentmindedly as they speak. It was nice, having someone touch her, even if it was just gentle fingers tracing every inch of her as eyes filled with wonder take her in.

A hand makes its way around her waist, tracing the gentle curve there as Wanda watches those green eyes linger around the waistband of her joggers. A few fingers slip softly under the slight crop of her crewneck, warm against her skin, and Wanda feels herself flush under the sudden intense focus.

Suddenly needing a distraction, Wanda clears her throat, feeling as though a spotlight was thrust upon her when the other woman’s dark green eyes snap towards hers. “So, I don’t really know what to call you…”

Trailing off, Wanda watches her counterpart tilt her head, a look of confusion in her eyes.

“Just call me my name.” The woman says, and holy fuck that demanding tone did something to Wanda. Her gaze is stifling, her eyes hot as she watches Wanda open her mouth a few times, her fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles against the soft skin of her waist.

“But… I’m Wanda.” She knows her voice has a slight whine to it, but Wanda can’t bring herself to care. Her brain is starting to hurt, the lines blurring slightly in her mind as she attempts to categorize herself and the other version of herself that stepped through her portal.

Firm fingers stroke her cheek, resting on her temple as Wanda’s brain halts at the touch. The other woman watches her, feeling Wanda’s breaths slow down as her green eyes start to look less panicked. “You can call me…” She thinks for a moment, her eyes unfocusing as she looks somewhere over Wanda’s left shoulder.

“Scarlet?” Wanda’s voice is soft, a single eyebrow raised as she waits for a response.

“Because I’m the truest version of the Scarlet Witch?” The other woman’s tone is dry, her eyebrows raised in an unimpressed manner as she watches Wanda’s expression mirror her own. “How original.”

Gently shoving at the hand still pressed against her cheek, Wanda lets a small smile onto her lips as she looks around for her glass of wine. Scarlet stretches, her hand still wrapped around Wanda’s waist, her fingers twitching as she lets out a large sigh. Wanda tries to ignore the slight blush she knows is creeping up onto her face, and picks up the now-empty bottle of wine.

Raising the bottle up so Scarlet can see, she lets it dangle loosely from her fingers before she drops it back onto the floor. Green eyes find hers, and Wanda decides that she will not lose whatever game they’re playing. This is her own fucking universe, she will not be bested at mere flirting.

Reaching a hand out as casually as she can, Wanda tucks some of the silky, reddish-brown hair behind Scarlet’s ear, smirking when she sees the slight flush in the tips of her ears. Pietro had always made fun of her for that, telling her that her blush always started in her ears. It was nice to see that didn’t change even in other universes.

They sit in the moment for a beat, before Scarlet’s eyes light up, and Wanda can’t remember the last time she saw such an excited expression on her own face. It was refreshing to see. The woman turns to her, her fingers wrapping around Wanda’s wrists in excitement as she pulls her into a standing position.

“Let’s go out. It’s a big city right? There must be something we can do for fun.” Her voice is still deep, her tone raspier than ever as her accent bleeds through, and Wanda doesn’t think she’s ever heard a lovelier sound.

“I don’t have many outfits for a night out,” Wanda’s tone is regretful, as images of dancing in some dark club flash through her mind. She finds herself wishing that she could spend more time with… herself? What an interesting thought.

A chuckle sounds out, and Wanda huffs slightly as Scarlet grips her forearms for support as she laughs. She shifts her weight, leaning on one hip as she raises a single eyebrow, waiting for the other woman to cease her laughter.

“Darling,” Wanda flushes at the nickname. “We’re the Scarlet Witch, we have magic.”

The dots connect, and Wanda lets an upside-down grin onto her face as she shakes her head. Of course, how could she have forgotten? Magic was what got her into this situation in the first place, not that she was complaining. Scarlet’s green eyes meet hers, sparkling with laughter, and Wanda rolls her eyes slightly as she twists her fingers.

Scarlet tendrils erupt around them as Wanda changes their outfits, Scarlet closing her eyes at the feel of familiar magic brushing her skin. She opens them after the tendrils dissipate, looking down at herself briefly before taking in Wanda. Her eyes widen fractionally, and she feels her next breath shake slightly as she takes in the short hemline of the dress Wanda wore.

Looking down, she realizes that she is dressed in a similar fashion, except her dress is longer, with a slit running up one of the sides. Wanda’s eyes are hot and locked on that small strip of skin, following the slit as high as it would go before she seems to shake herself out of a daze.

Smirking, Wanda finds her own expression mirrored on Scarlet’s face. She doesn’t think she will ever get used to that. Reaching out a hand, she lets herself enjoy the feeling of Scarlet’s waist as she pulls her close, not minding when the woman’s hand rests dangerously low on her back. She leans in, a teasing smile on her lips as red tendrils erupt around them, creating a portal.

“How do you feel about clubbing?”

—

Wanda can’t remember the last time she had gone out drinking, let alone clubbing. It was probably back before her Avenger days, when Pietro would sneak them into a dingy club and steal some alcohol before twirling her around and making her forget about their lives, even if just for a moment. The security in Sakovian nightclubs was minimal, and Wanda smiles fondly at the memory as she and Scarlet step into the crowded room.

Bodies swarm around them, hands flying through the air as the music swirled around the mass of people. Different colored lights flash, the air thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat soaked skin. Wanda feels happier than she has in the past year, and her eyes sparkle as she pulls Scarlet close and makes her way towards the bar.

“What’s your favorite drink?” The words are yelled into Scarlet’s ear, and the woman just stares in confusion, her head tilting slightly. Wanda rolls her eyes, realizing that the woman probably can’t hear her over the thumping beat and blaring music.

Pulling Scarlet in by the waist, Wanda smirks at the way those green eyes flick down to her lips before she moves those lips directly next to the woman’s ear. “I asked, what’s your favorite drink?”

Wanda doesn’t have to yell as loud this time, and she feels Scarlet’s lips graze her neck slightly before she gets a response. She shudders, almost missing the drink order, and judging by the way Scarlet was smirking at her, the woman had definitely felt her reaction.

Pulling away, Wanda subtly uses her magic to keep the swarms of people away from them as she orders two drinks. The bartender looks slightly confused, glancing between them briefly before he seems to shrug, making their drinks in record time as he nods towards another drunk man screaming his order.

Scarlet pulls incessantly at Wanda’s waist, her fingers firm as she leads them away from the over-crowded bar. Wanda tries not to think too hard about the pleasurable heat spreading from that point of contact, but can’t help the way her body presses slightly against Scarlet’s as they lean against a wall.

A glass of some red colored drink is raised to Scarlet’s lips, and Wanda lets her eyes rest on them as they greedily swallow the contents. She feels almost as if she were in a trace, Scarlet’s hand dancing along the hem of her dress as her tongue slowly runs over her bottom lip. She seems to savor the taste, and Wanda slowly raises her own glass, a spike of pride racing through her when Scarlet’s green eyes lock on the way the rim of her cup rests against her lips.

Taking a sip, Wanda’s eyes shoot up in surprise at the sweet cherry flavor. She licks her lips, smiling slightly as she feels Scarlet’s breath hitch, her chest rising rapidly as her eyes flick upwards. Wanda steps in closer, feeling Scarlet’s hand wrap firmly around her waist, pressing their bodies together. She leisurely finishes the rest of her drink, before gently pressing her thigh against Scarlet’s pelvis and feeling herself throb at the woman’s low moan.

“Time to dance.” Wanda murmurs, and she feels Scarlet’s fingers flex slightly as she attempts to keep their bodies pressed together. Feeling a spike of pleasure run through her at the way the other woman’s hips roll slightly against her leg, Wanda reluctantly tears herself away. She slips a soft hand into Scarlet’s slightly callused one, and pulls her towards the center of the club.

Setting their empty glasses down, Wanda turns to face Scarlet, the woman already pulling her close again. The hands around her waist feel hot, and Wanda has to hold in a whimper when those long fingers splay out across her lower back, pressing their bodies together once again.

“Turn around for me.” The words are low, and Wanda blames the red-hot flush to her cheeks on the alcohol she’d just gulped down. Scarlet’s eyes are intense, the green almost viridescent as her pupils dilate slightly.

Nodding slightly, Wanda bites her lower lip nervously, smiling when Scarlet's eyes drop to it. She turns around, her hands coming to rest on top of the ones around her waist. She feels Scarlet’s pelvis press against her, and she experimentally rolls her own hips backwards, reveling in the low groan the other woman lets out. She feels small puffs of air against her neck, and uses one of her hands to move her hair out of the way, tilting her head slightly to give the other woman access.

At the feeling of Scarlet’s soft lips against the sensitive skin of her neck, Wanda’s breath hitches. The soft kisses quickly morph into wet, hot hickeys that turn her pale skin red. Wanda dances to the music, feeling the alcohol take over her mind as she’s thrust into a fuzzy headspace. Her movements feel fluid, and she feels like she can finally breathe properly, sucking in the humid air of the club, the scent of alcohol mixing with a very familiar vanilla perfume.

Letting one of her hands wander upwards, Wanda buries it in the soft hair of the woman behind her, tugging slightly as she tilts her face towards her. She feels her lips detach, the warm air of the club hitting her dampened skin as she turns towards Scarlet.

Pressing her lips against the other woman’s feels like coming home. They feel impossibly soft and urgent against her own as they sway to the beat and press their scantily clad bodies together. Wanda feels her dress riding up slightly, Scarlet’s hand insistent against the bare skin of her upper thigh. She lets her own hand drift from the woman’s hair downwards, resting it against her throat as she silently asks for permission.

Scarlet pulls away, her eyes dark as she slowly moves them towards the backrooms of the club. Upon reaching the doorway, she pushes through, pressing Wanda’s body against the wall of a dimly lit hallway as the door shuts solidly behind them. It was quieter here, more intimate somehow as the thumping music dampened behind the solid wood of the door.

Two pairs of green eyes stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Wanda flexes her hand slightly, pressing softly against Scarlet’s throat, and smiles when she feels the woman’s breath hitch beneath her hand.

She squeezes. Scarlet moans, and Wanda feels something almost animalistic take over her.

Pulling the woman closer by her throat, Wanda crashes their lips together, feeling the desperate fingers against her waist squeezing tightly. Scarlet’s entire body is flush against hers, and their chests rise and fall in sync as they fight for dominance. Wanda’s other hand is pinned to the wall, her other squeezing tightly on the sides of Scarlet’s neck as the woman gasps into her mouth. Scarlet manages to maneuver her thigh between Wanda’s legs, and upon feeling the sturdy muscles against her aching core, Wanda moans freely into the other woman’s mouth.

The sound of Wanda’s breathy moan snaps something inside Scarlet, and she pulls away to look directly into the other woman’s eyes. Her pupils are blown, the faintest bits of green around them as Wanda stares back with wide eyes and swollen lips.

“Portal us back.” Scarlet manages to get out, grinding her hips slightly against Wanda’s pelvis, needing to feel some sort of relief. “I want you.”

Wanda smirks at the desperate note in the other woman’s voice. Who knew that hearing your own voice pleading and whining was so attractive? Scarlet lets out a choked noise from the back of her throat, her hips jerking as Wanda’s hand squeezes tightly in warning.

“You want me?” Wanda makes her voice low, letting her accent wrap around the words as Scarlet’s eyes close briefly. “Are you sure it’s just that?”

Tilting her head, Wanda waits for a response. The other woman seems to be grounding herself, her hips slowing as she trails her hands up Wanda’s body, resting them just beneath her breasts as she opens her eyes.

“I need you.” She practically purrs, her voice raspy and her eyes narrowed. Wanda blinks, the words sending her further into the haze taking over her brain. She feels Scarlet’s fingers ghost the underside of her breasts, the barest sensation sending bolts of pleasure shooting towards her throbbing clit. Her whole body feels like it's on fire, and she nods quickly as Scarlet sends her a familiar smirk.

“My place.” Scarlet’s words are demanding, and Wanda starts to nod before her eyebrows thread together in confusion.

Upon seeing Wanda’s expression, Scarlet clarifies, “If I’m going to fuck you, darling, I’m going to do it right.” She leaned in, letting her tongue softly trail up Wanda’s neck as the woman shudders beneath her. “You can’t even begin to imagine the special types of toys I own.”

“Stephen will be upset,” Wanda protests, and Scarlet rolls her eyes as she remembers the pitiful restrictions put on her.

“Fine.” Scarlet reluctantly removes her hands from Wanda’s soft body, licking her lips before twisting her fingers and opening a portal in the narrow hallway. Green eyes peer around excitedly as Scarlet pulls her through the scarlet tendrils opening the multiverse.

Wanda feels the incessant squeezing of Scarlet’s fingers against her waist, her eyes glued to the strip of skin where her dress is riding up her thighs. She lets her own gaze wander down to the faint bruises around Scarlet’s neck, her lips turning up as she spots the bed behind her.

Pushing backwards, Wanda presses her body fully against the other woman’s warm figure. Her eyes take in the dark bedroom, her fingers grasping the woman’s shoulders tightly. Pushing gently, she smiles at Scarlet's gasp when the back of her knees hit the bed, and pushes her into a seated position.

“You seem really desperate, I can smell your arousal.” The words make their way into Scarlet’s brain, the desperate aching of her core clouding her senses as she feels Wanda’s presence overtake her. She grips the dark comforter below her, her knuckles whitening almost instantly, spreading her legs slightly as her hips roll eagerly.

“Let me help with that.” Wanda whispers, before slowly dragging her tongue down Scarlet’s neck and kneeling before her. Her hands wander from the woman’s breasts and over her taut stomach, nails scratching slightly over the muscles she knows are hidden beneath her dress.

Twisting her fingers, Wanda watches with wide eyes as the conjured dress disappears. Her gaze roams over Scarlet's body, a voice in the back of her mind telling her that this is also her body. Fuck, Scarlet was attractive. Was she also this hot?

“You’re beautiful.” The words are soft, and Wanda looks up quickly, her eyes shining in the low lighting of the room. Scarlet has a knowing smile on her face, and she twists her fingers slightly as she reminds Wanda that they share the same magic. The same mind reading powers, too.

“Oh, I…” Wanda doesn’t quite know what to say, and Scarlet seems to understand. She reaches out, her fingers ghosting over Wanda’s cheek as she moves her hand into the woman’s scarlet hair.

“You look so pretty on your knees for me.” Scarlet’s words flow between them, and Wanda licks her lips as she lets her eyes drop back to the rapidly forming damp spot in the woman’s underwear. She feels her face burning, certain that a blush is spreading across her cheeks at the praise.

Choosing to forgo words altogether, Wanda allows her head to be pulled closer to Scarlet’s core, the smell of her dripping arousal hitting her nose and filling her senses. She tentatively flattens her tongue, licking a long stripe over the woman’s soaked underwear.

Fuck.

Wanda doesn’t think she’s ever tasted anything as sweet as Scarlet before. She doesn’t think she’s ever heard such pretty sounds, breathy moans leaving those sinful lips and shooting straight to her core.

“God, you’re so needy.” Wanda murmurs, her lips teasing against the woman’s underwear. She has her hands pressed tightly against Scarlet’s hips, attempting to still them as she places feather light kisses against the damp fabric.

A broken whine leaves Scarlet's throat, and Wanda feels her own arousal dampen her already-soaked underwear. The long fingers in her hair tighten, and Wanda has to stop a moan from leaving her lips. Scarlet’s next words are whined and desperate. “Please, stop teasing.”

The sound of Scarlet’s soft voice sends white hot pleasure racing through Wanda’s body. And really, who is she to deny herself?

Twisting her fingers, scarlet wisps appear and dissolve the thin fabric barrier between Wanda’s lips and Scarlet's glistening pussy. At the first stroke of her tongue, Wanda is hooked. She moves her arms under the woman’s trembling thighs, swapping her tongue through the slick arousal and savoring the taste. At the feeling of Scarlet’s clit throbbing beneath her tongue, Wanda flicks it experimentally. Scarlet’s hand tightens painfully in her hair, her hips grinding against her face.

Wanda moans, the vibrations sending acute pleasure through Scarlet’s aching clit. She tries to stop her hips from moving too much, but can’t help the way they move as Wanda begins licking and sucking with earnestness.

The vigor in which Wanda eats her out nearly sends Scarlet over the edge. Almost as if Wanda can sense this, she pulls away briefly while Scarlet’s hips stutter against her tongue. “Grind harder against my face, it's okay. I want you to.”

Scarlet looks down at her, having thrown her head back at some point. Wanda’s glassy eyes are staring back up at her, wide and dark as her tongue teasingly swipes through her folds. She creates a suction with her lips, wrapping them around her clit as her tongue flicks quickly against it. She jerks her hips, whimpering as she holds herself back from grinding all over Wanda’s pretty face, and the redhead pulls away once more.

“Do whatever you want to make yourself come, I can take it.” Wanda’s words are firm, her eyes honest. Scarlet nods, her breath feeling ragged as a moan rips through her throat when Wanda’s hot mouth resumes its ministrations. She feels the wet muscle of her tongue flicking quickly against her clit, her lips creating a delicious suction that sends her hurtling towards an orgasm.

Using both hands to grip Wanda’s hair, Scarlet pulls her face flush against her core, grinding her hips against her chin as her back hits the bed. She can feel her thighs closing, the pressure building as her legs lock around Wanda’s head. The vibrations from Wanda’s moans only add fuel to the fire of her rising arousal, and Scarlet finally falls over the long-awaited edge.

When she comes, it's almost violent. Her thighs squeeze tightly around Wanda’s head, her fingers seizing painfully as they tangle with locks of red hair. Her hips jerk and stutter, waves of arousal coating the smooth skin of Wanda’s face as she releases the overstimulating suction of her lips. Scarlet’s chest rises and falls rapidly, her muscles turning to goo as she relaxes against the mattress, a slow smile spreading on her face.

“That good, huh?” A smug voice sounds, and Scarlet can barely hear it over the pleasant ringing in her ears. She feels strong hands spread her thighs apart, a gentle tongue licking her clean while avoiding her still-sensitive clit. She thinks she could cry from the softness of it all, and finally regains her senses when Wanda begins stroking her face with featherlight fingers.

“Yes,” Scarlet begins, grabbing one of Wanda’s hands and kissing it softly, maintaining eye contact with the other woman as her eyebrows raise in surprise. “You are very good, Wanda.”

Green eyes soften slightly, and Scarlet sits up, feeling her strength return as she takes in the state of the woman standing before her. The bottom half of Wanda’s face is absolutely coated with her juices, the slick arousal shining as she takes the back of her hand and swipes it away. Her lips are swollen, and Scarlet has the strongest urge to kiss them.

So, she does.

Pulling Wanda in, she sucks her bottom lips between her teeth, reveling in the surprised gasp that the redhead lets out. Twisting her fingers, Scarlet removes the rest of Wanda’s clothing, feeling goosebumps erupt on her soft skin as she traces a hand down her spine.

“Kneel on the bed for me, alright?” Scarlet whispers, pulling away and placing a firm hand against Wanda’s sternum when she tries to chase her lips. She waits until Wanda has positioned herself in the center of the bed, resting on her knees. She gives her a quick peck on the lips as a reward, grabbing her wrists and holding them against her thighs with a silent command to keep them there.

Standing, Scarlet takes in the steady rise and fall of Wanda’s perfect chest, feeling quite conceited as she does so. After all, it was practically the same chest as hers. But, semantics. With a smirk, Scarlet makes her way towards the walk-in closet, her voice teasing as she throws a few words over her shoulder, “It’s my turn to make you feel good.”

Knowing that Wanda wouldn’t move an inch, Scarlet takes her time in gathering the few items she needs. By the time she walks back into the bedroom, she knows that Wanda is practically dripping with need, the anticipation driving her practically insane.

“We’re the same, you know.” Scarlet begins, purposefully lowering her voice and letting her accent bleed through. She loves the way Wanda shudders whenever she speaks, the slight power she holds over the redhead shooting straight to her core.

Scarlet lays the items out on the bed in front of Wanda, relishing in the way her eyes widen as they roam over the few toys she’d selected. She chooses to ignore the toys, for now. Instead, she makes her way behind Wanda’s kneeling form, grazing her fingers across the tops of her thighs and over her arms, resting them on her lower back before trailing them up her spine.

Grabbing her hair gently, Scarlet maneuvers Wanda’s head to the side, tilting it slightly as she lets her lips graze where her neck meets her collarbone. “We both have this specific spot on our neck that drives us crazy.”

Wanda lets out a low noise, leaning back as Scarlet shuffles closer until her front is flush against the other woman’s back. She grazes her teeth gently against the very spot she’d been talking about, and feels her own arousal rise again at the soft sounds Wanda is making. She places her lips against the spot, leaving hot, openmouthed kisses against it as Wanda squirms.

Fingers twitch against her thighs, and Scarlet has to commend the redhead for staying still. She knows just how desperate she gets whenever someone teases that spot on her neck, and decides to reward Wanda.

Sinking her teeth in, Scarlet smiles at the drawn out moan that escapes those swollen lips, Wanda’s head dropping back against her shoulder as she sucks a dark hickey into her neck. Once she’s sure that the redhead is properly distracted, she lets her hands slowly make their way from her waist to her breasts.

Detaching her lips, and chuckling at the high whine that Wanda lets out, Scarlet moves her fingers until they gently graze the woman’s hardened nipples. Wanda’s body jolts, and her eyes close when Scarlet’s mouth returns to her ear. “And most importantly, our nipples are sensative as fuck.”

Wanda moans freely at that, the sounds becoming more high pitched and breathy when Scarlet’s nimble fingers begin twisting and pinching her nipples. Her body presses further against the woman behind her, leaning against her for support as her hips rut helplessly into the air.

“So desperate for me,” Scarlet’s voice is in her ear again, and Wanda thinks she might come just from the sound of it. Then, she feels those soft lips and talented tongue stimulate that spot on her neck, and she practically melts against the woman behind her.

Rolling her hips, Wanda presses herself against the woman behind her, wanting… no, needing Scarlet to stimulate her soon. The growing pressure was quickly becoming unbearable, and the added sensations from those talented fingers against her breasts was causing her to pant and moan in a very undignified manner.

“Please,” Wanda begins, before quickly closing her mouth at Scarlet's low chuckle against her neck.

“Begging already?” Her hands disappear from her breasts, one moving down towards her thighs while the other trails up towards her neck. “How pathetic, I haven’t even properly touched you yet.”

A firm hand wraps around Wanda’s throat, and her eyes roll backwards. She’s truly never felt this many sensations before, and she’s definitely never begged for anything. Of course it would only be a version of herself that manages to reduce her to a submissive puddle of need.

Scarlet wisps emerge from the hand near her thighs, and Wanda watches as they float teasingly towards one of the objects spread before her on the bed. She bites back a whimper at the chosen object, hearing the delicate metal chain clink softly as it's dropped into Scarlet’s waiting hand.

“I can tell by your reaction that you’ve experienced the wonderful pleasure that nipple clamps have to offer.” Scarlet’s voice holds a teasing tone, and Wanda presses her lips together and nods.

“Really… with who?” The question hangs in the air, and Wanda swallows the thick embarrassment in her throat as she tries to form some words. The woman behind her lets out a soft sigh, before taking mercy on the flustered redhead.

“For me, it was Natasha that introduced me to the kinkier side of sex.” Scarlet sounds almost wistful, and Wanda twists her head in surprise.

“Natasha?”

Gentle fingers grip Wanda’s chin, moving her head back to its original position. She catches a glimpse of Scarlet’s smirking lips, and jumps slightly when the woman teasingly drags the cold metal of the nipple clamps across each breast.

“Yes, darling. Natasha.” Wanda can hear the teasing tone in Scarlet’s voice, and attempts to twist her head to the side to ask for more information. The fingers against her jaw tighten, the blunt fingernails digging into her skin as Scarlet holds her head in place.

“If you’re good, maybe I’ll tell you the stories later.”

“Stories? As in plural?” Wanda knows that there's a hint of hysteria in her voice, and Scarlet wraps her hand around her throat, soothing her instantly. She can feel the woman smiling against her ear and tries not to move when her hand tightens.

“Don’t think too hard about it, you’ll hurt that pretty little head of yours.” The words send Wanda spiraling straight into a vanilla-scented haze, and she nods dumbly in response. She lets herself get wrapped up in the comforting touches of Scarlet's hand and the soft kisses being placed against her neck as the hand wrapped around her throat moves down and begins attaching the nipple clamps.

Wanda’s body feels like it’s on fire, the nipple clamps shooting white-hot bolts of pleasure straight to her throbbing clit as Scarlet tightens them. Her moans reverberate around the room, her hips twitching aimlessly as she searches for a source of friction. Anything to ease the pressure at her core.

“You never answered my question.” The words reach Wanda’s ears, and she thinks she might cry. Her brain is not working the best right now, and it's absolutely cruel of Scarlet to ask her questions while she’s in this state.

“Um, I…” Wanda can’t quite seem to wrap her head around the previous question, her mind blank as she searches for an answer.

“Did you forget already? That’s alright, maybe this will help you remember.” Scarlet murmurs in her ear, before grabbing the delicate chain swinging between Wanda’s breasts that connected to the nipple clamps. Tugging, she relishes in the broken moans leaving those sinfully plump lips, her eyes locked on Wanda’s painfully hard nipples as they stretch slightly under the force of the chain.

“It was, fuck… Agatha.” Wanda manages, and Scarlet pauses. Taking in small breaths, so she doesn’t stretch her nipples further than pleasantly painful, Wanda tilts her head slightly, trying to guess why the woman had stopped.

“Agatha, as in… the one who tried to battle you in Westview? The one who nearly stole my power in my universe? The one with the rabbit?” Scarlet’s voice is disbelieving, and she shakes her head as she processes. A proud chuckle escapes her lips, and she presses a kiss softly against Wanda’s cheek before tugging sharply against the chain.

A strangled yelp leaves Wanda’s lips, and Scarlet moves her other hand towards the glistening mound between the redhead’s thighs. “I didn’t know you had it in you, darling. Very well done.”

Pride blooms in Wanda’s chest, and she lets a slow smile onto her face as Scarlet begins circling her clit. Those talented fingers avoid the one spot that needs the most attention, instead dipping down and collecting the leaking wetness from her leaking pussy, before smearing it over her inner thighs.

“Fuck, darling. You’re absolutely soaked, I didn’t realize that fucking yourself, in a manner, would get you this hot and bothered.” Scarlet’s voice is teasing, and Wanda groans as she dips the tips of her fingers into her entrance, before pulling away and smearing it onto her other thigh.

“Well,” Wanda begins, feeling her thighs tremble from the effort of staying still, “What can I say? We’re attractive, don’t even try to deny it.”

Scarlet hums approvingly, and without any warning, thrusts two fingers knuckle deep into the wet heat of Wanda’s pussy. A moan sounds out, and Scarlet relishes in the way the woman’s walls are clamping around her fingers, before beginning to thrust them quickly.

The sound of Wanda’s arousal sloshing around her fingers nearly sends Scarlet over the edge, and she grinds her pelvis firmly against Wanda’s backside. Working herself up, Scarlet thrusts quickly, her fingers hitting that sweet spongy spot that has Wanda seeing stars. The gasped moans sound like music to her ears, and she lets out her own moan into Wanda’s ear, pleased with the way the redhead rolls her hips against her fingers.

Moving her thumb up to apply pressure against her protruding clit, Scarlet tugs sharply at the nipple clamps, before moving her mouth close to Wanda’s ear and muttering, “Cum.”

All it takes is a few more deep thrusts, and Scarlet’s teeth biting into that sensitive spot of Wanda’s neck to bring her orgasm to the surface. She shudders, her walls clamping down on Scarlet’s fingers as they pulsate, the muscles contracting and expanding rapidly. Her clit throbs under the woman’s thumb, each wave of her orgasm feeling just as strong as the last as Scarlet fucks her through it.

Breathing deeply, Wanda attempts to calm herself down, her clit already overstimulated and painfully sensitive. She pushes Scarlet’s hand away, ignoring the huff from behind her as she turns around and faces the woman fully.

“You also did very well.” Wanda says cheekily, electing to ignore the eye roll she receives. She places a hand against Scarlet’s flushed cheek, her fingers still trembling from the force of her orgasm as they stroke her skin softly.

Green eyes stare back at her, flicking to her lips as Wanda pants, regaining her ability to breathe. As soon as her breaths have evened out, she pulls Scarlet closer, their lips colliding gently. Wanda thinks that Scarlet has the softest lips she’d ever had the pleasure of kissing, and moves her own smoothly against hers.

A strong tongue licks at her bottom lip, and Wanda allows it, enjoying the feel of Scarlet’s tongue against hers as she slowly pushes her down until her shoulder blades hit the mattress. Twisting her fingers, Wanda brings one of the objects to her waiting palm, smirking against the other woman’s lips when it hits her hand.

Pulling away, Wanda sits up, moving her thighs to either side of Scarlet's waist. She eargerly takes in the halo of reddish-brown hair around her and the way her eyes sparkle as they curiously look at the item in her hand.

“And what’s that for?” Scarlet asks, her hand already twitching as she reaches for the vibrator.

Wanda pulls it away, outside of her reach, and chuckles at the crinkle that appears between her eyebrows. She twists her fingers again, causing scarlet tendrils to wrap around the woman’s wrists and pull them towards the headboard.

“How creative.” Scarlet’s tone is flat, her face unimpressed.

“I’m not finished yet.” The words are murmured, and Scarlet feels slightly embarrassed at the wave of wetness she feels leak out of her at the sound of Wanda’s low voice. Watching with slightly widened eyes, Scarlet’s mouth falls open at the mirror that appears on the ceiling, showing the two of them perfectly.

Looking up, Wanda grins at the placement of the mirror. She smirks at Scarlet, hearing the woman’s thoughts running wild as she takes in their forms through the reflective glass. Moving herself back slightly, she traps the woman’s legs between her thighs as she sets the vibrator on the puffy flesh of Scarlet’s mound.

“I haven’t even turned it on, and you’re already rutting against the toy.” Wanda says, her voice still teasing as Scarlet attempts to still her hips. At the slight glare she receives, Wanda pulls the toy away before delivering a sharp slap to the glistening pussy in front of her. Her fingers hit the woman’s clit perfectly, and she enjoys the jolt that makes its way through Scarlet’s body.

If the resounding moan is anything to go by, Scarlet loves it. She muffles the moan that attempts to escape her, and Wanda raises a single eyebrow.

“Don’t quiet yourself, I want to hear every sound I can pull out of you.” Her words are firm, demanding even, and Scarlet nods quickly as she glances towards the toy through the mirror. She would give just about anything to feel its vibrations against her now-aching pussy.

Almost as if she can read her thoughts (oh wait), Wanda turns the toy on, pressing it deliciously against Scarlet’s protruding clit. Jolts of pleasure rush through her, and she throws her head back while squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

As soon as she does so, Wanda pulls the toy away, tilting her head when Scarlet looks at her with betrayal in her eyes, asking in a whiny tone, “Why?”

“I want you to look at yourself when I make you cum from a single toy.” Wanda’s tone is smug, almost too smug for Scarlet’s liking, but any protests she has fade away when the redhead turns the toy back on, bumping up the strength slightly.

A string of curse words leaves her lips, her eyes locked on the toy through the mirror. Eventually, they wander towards her slightly squirming hips, and she moans at the sight. Tugging at her restraints, Scarlet watches the way her muscles flex as she attempts to escape their tight hold, and for a moment, she thinks she sees Wanda’s body instead of her own.

That would make sense, seeing as they were literally the same person, and Scarlet feels the lines between them start to blur as her orgasm rises. She sneaks a glance down, watching as Wanda’s eyes greedily take in the sight of her squirming body. That scene alone makes her gush around the toy, the vibrations increasing in sound as the liquid vibrates between her pussy and the toy.

“Do you want to cum?” Wanda asks, not giving her the chance to respond before she continues. “You know, I’m never able to keep still either when I touch myself at home. A vibrator practically makes me move all over the bed, and I have to restrain my hips against the bed whenever I use it.”

Scarlet’s lips fall open, and Wanda smirks when she reads the thoughts running through her hazy mind. “Ah, you do the same thing, huh? I guess we really aren’t that different from each other, even though we’re from different universes.”

The thought of Wanda getting off to a vibrator while restraining herself plays on repeat in Scarlet’s mind, and she cants her own hips upwards as she feels her orgasm close in. Streams of pleas leave her lips, the woman too far gone to feel much shame about it.

“Please, let me… fuck. I’m so- I’m. Fuck. Close, I’m close. Please, I need to… let me. I need to cum. Please.” Scarlet writhes against her restraints, feeling Wanda’s thighs tighten around her own thighs as she minimizes the movements of her legs.

“Wanda, please.” At the sound of her own name falling from those familiar lips, Wanda turns the vibrations up a few levels, pressing the toy firmly against Scarlet’s spasming pussy. Loud moans reverberate around the dim room, the scent of arousal filling Wanda’s nose as she watches the woman below her with intense focus.

“Cum for me, darling.” The words are soft, but the second they leave Wanda’s lips, Scarlet feels her orgasm crash over her.

White hot tendrils of pleasure course through her, her hips jolting against the toy as she feels another wave of wetness coat the head of the vibrator. Wanda’s thighs are firm against hers, limiting the effect of her convulsions as her orgasm hits her with wave after wave of pleasure cascades through her body.

Feeling like her nerves are quite shot, Scarlet whimpers when the vibrations against her clit become painful, her pussy clenching around nothing as wetness leaks all over her inner thighs and down to the comforter. Wanda turns down the settings on the toy to the lowest level, helping Scarlet ride out the aftershocks and prolonging the pleasure as long as possible.

After a minute or two, Scarlet’s eyes plead with Wanda to turn off the toy, her throat feeling hoarse from the ragged moans that ripped through it. The only thing she can manage is a whispered, “Please.”

Wanda turns off the toy, discarding it somewhere behind her as she leans down to kiss the trembling lips on the woman below her. Her shift of position causes Scarlet to feel the pool of wetness that had leaked from the redhead’s own throbbing center against her thighs, and she moans into her mouth.

Twisting her fingers again, Wanda releases Scarlet from the tendrils of magic restraining her wrists. Feeling those hands come down and wrap themselves in her hair, she hums pleasantly against the woman’s mouth, gasping at the sharp tug that follows.

A strong tongue snakes into her mouth, sliding pleasantly against her own as Scarlet practically devours her lips and tongue. Her teeth graze Wanda’s bottom lip lightly, almost teasingly, before biting down and pulling.

Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Wanda grinds her overheated core against the hard muscles of Scarlet's now-soaked thighs. She kisses away the smirk that appears on the woman’s face, using her magic to bring another toy to her hand.

“I want to ride you.” Wanda is pleased with the groan her words draw from Scarlet’s throat, the woman’s eyes widening with anticipation at the strap on clenched in Wanda’s hand. Her hands gesture urgently, fingers trembling as she clenches the comforter below her.

Waving her hand, Wanda watches scarlet wisps attach the strap to Scarlet’s pelvis. This toy was different from the strap she had in her own universe, as it didn’t have a harness. Instead, there was a smaller dildo attached that slipped inside the person wearing it, creating the illusion that the toy was genuinely attached to the woman.

A groan leaves Scarlet’s swollen lips, Wanda’s hand tugging against the toy as she makes sure it’s attached correctly. The smaller part of the toy buried in Scarlet's pussy hits her g-spot perfectly, the larger dildo on the outside pressing snugly against her clit.

Grasping at Wanda’s waist, Scarlet’s hands impatiently position the redhead over the strap. Scarlet positions herself against the headboard slightly, just enough so that she can still watch their movements through the mirror while also looking directly at Wanda’s face.

“Go on.” The raspy quality of Scarlet’s voice causes another wave of wetness to escape Wanda’s core, and she slowly sinks down on the strap, giving herself time to adjust. The hands around her waist move down until they grip her hips, helping her take the last inch of the toy, both of them sighing in sync when the strap bottoms out.

Wanda experimentally moves her hips, just slightly, as a strangled moan escapes her when the tip of the toy drags over that spongy spot inside her. She begins fucking herself on the strap, Scarlet’s hands resting against her hips, the woman’s eyes eagerly taking in the sight before her.

“You look absolutely beautiful like this.” Scarlet’s voice is almost reverent, her eyes unblinking as she watches the glistening strap when Wanda sinks down on it over and over again. She lets her eyes wander up Wanda’s body, taking in her breasts as they bounce slightly with each thrust of Wanda’s hips.

“That’s a bit conceited, don’t you think?” Wanda has a single eyebrow raised, her voice breathless as she focuses on the building pleasure coursing through her. She grinds herself against Scarlet's pelvis, the strap hitting her g-spot perfectly as the strap is buried inside her overheating pussy.

Scarlet chuckles, her fingers gripping Wanda’s hips tighter and urging her hips to move faster. She moves her lips closer to Wanda’s grazing them as she speaks, “Well, its like you said earlier, we’re both hot as fuck, darling.”

Wanda doesn’t respond, choosing instead to capture her other self’s lips in a searing kiss. Her teeth clack against Scarlet’s, her lips desperate as she sucks and bites at the woman’s already swollen lips. She feels the fingers around her hips dig in, and she’s positive that she’ll find multiple bruises in the morning.

Breaking the kiss, Scarlet enjoys the whimper that escapes Wanda as she lifts her hips and slams her back on the strap. “Fuck yourself, Wanda.”

A few broken moans ring out, and Wanda uses all the strength she has left to lift her hips repeatedly. White hot pleasure builds, the pressure in her core becoming unbearable as Scarlet begins thrusting her hips as well.

“I’m going to cum.” Wanda’s voice is strained, her head thrown back as her eyes close of their own accord. Scarlet can’t blame her, knowing how desperate she also becomes when a strap on is involved. Using a single hand, she begins applying pressure against Wanda’s throbbing clit.

The hard nub pulsates beneath her fingers, and Wanda’s movements become uncoordinated and jerky, a sign that means she’s close to an orgasm. Scarlet feels a rush of power, and she leans her own head back, watching both of them through the mirror on the ceiling. Her fingers slip over Wanda’s clit, arousal coating them as she circles it quickly.

“Let go, Wanda. Cum for me, you can do it.” Scarlet urges, watching as the redhead comes undone. She shakes, her hips rutting against the toy as she lets out a few strained moans. Her orgasm is quick, the aftershocks holting through her until she’s almost dizzy from the stimulation. Still, it's not enough.

“More,” Wanda chokes out, her chest heaving and mind hazy as she feels pleasure build once more. “I need more, please.”

In one quick movement, Scarlet moves forwards, maneuvering them until Wanda’s back is pressed against the mattress, her eyes looking directly at the mirror on the ceiling. From this angle, she can watch as Scarlet’s back muscles flex while her hips thrust roughly into her. It's a mesmerizing sight, and only causes her orgasm to race towards the edge once more.

The sound of a metal chain clinking shocks Wanda out of her daze, and she suddenly remembers the nipple clamps still attached to her. From the look on Scarlet’s face, she’s immensely pleased with this, and her fingers wrap around the chain as she moves into a kneeling position.

“Keep watching in the mirror, you’re going to enjoy this.”

“Fuck.” That’s the only word that Wanda can manage, her eyes glued to Scarlet’s form in the mirror. She watches her hand gently tug at the chain, her nipples stretching slightly. She sighs at the pleasurable jolts of pain that shoot through her at the action, her hips jerking as she attempts to fuck herself against the strap.

She needs more.

A smirk appears on Scarlet’s face as soon as the thought runs through Wanda’s mind, and she snaps her hips sharply. Pulling the length of the toy almost completely out of the poor redhead’s soaked entrance, she tugs harshly at the nipple clamps while simultaneously thrusting the entire toy deep inside of Wanda.

The sound that tears from Wanda’s throat is animalistic, her pupils blown as she watches Scarlet’s hips pound against hers as the strap reaches the deepest parts of her pussy. Her fingers clench the comforter beneath her, her knuckles completely white as she grits her teeth and arches her back.

“Tell me how much you want it, how much you need to cum.” Scarlet demands, her tone as unforgiving as the rapid pace she sets. She waves her hand, the vibrator slapping against her palm as Wanda begins speaking, her words broken and desperate.

“Please, I- fuck. I need it so bad, please. I’ll… do… fucking hell. I’ll do anything. Just, please- jesus. Please let me, oh fuck… right there. Yes, fuck. Let me come. Please.” The words are babbled, some coherent and others mumbled breathily as Wanda’s eyes glaze over.

Scarlet has never seen a more beautiful sight.

Skilled hands turn the vibrator on, setting it to one of the highest vibration levels. Wanda whines at the sound of the toy, her legs squeezing in an attempt to close against the overstimulation she knows she’s about to receive.

“You’ll take everything I give you.” Scarlet’s voice is low, her eyes glinting in the low light of the room. She pries Wanda’s thighs apart, her hips thrusting quickly as she presses the vibrator to Wanda’s swollen clit.

Wanda’s hips jerk violently, tears forming in her eyes at the painful stimulation. It’s enough, and exactly what she’d begged so prettily for, and she’s cumming within seconds. Her clit pulses against the toy, tears streaming down her face as her back arches even more. Her fingers grasp at Scarlet’s wrists, but with a few scarlet tendrils, they’re quickly pinned above her head.

Lewd noises sound out, Wanda’s cries going unheard as Scarlet watches her in fascination. She has an idea, and pulls the vibrator away, enjoying the relieved sobs that tear through Wanda’s throat for a moment, before her hands are rough against the redhead’s waist.

Pulling the strap from the poor woman, she flips her onto her stomach, conjuring a second mirror in front of them. Pulling her ass up, she positions Wanda on her knees, before sharply tugging at her hair and forcing her to look into the mirror.

Moaning at the sight she sees, Wanda takes in the strong form of Scarlet behind her, pulling her hands uselessly against her restraints as the woman’s hips move relentlessly. The strap reaches the deepest part of Wanda’s clenching pussy, streams of arousal coating the length of it as she’s fucked roughly from behind.

Green eyes lock together through the mirror, both with pupils so blown their irises seem almost black, and Wanda feels the deep ache of another orgasm rising. Her walls flutter around the strap, sloshing sounds filling the room and mixing with her shaky moans as Scarlet watches intently.

“I can’t.” Wanda manages, feeling spent, her legs trembling to hold her up even as Scarlet's hands move to support her hips.

“You can,” Scarlet grits out, slamming her hips faster, “And you will.”

A guttural sound leaves Wanda’s throat, the sound ripping through her as Scarlet places the vibrator back on her clit. She falls face down on the mattress, the hand in her hair adjusting her so she can still watch through the mirror with one half-closed eye. She feels a painful ache spread through her body as her orgasm rises, and bites back a sob when her sensitive nipples brush against the comforter with each deep thrust of the strap.

“Now, Wanda.” Scarlet’s voice is smooth and low, her breaths even as she watches the scene through the mirror. “Cum.”

Her final orgasm tears through her body, flames of pleasure roaring through her veins as Wanda weakly fights against her restraints. She tries to escape the seemingly never-ending pleasure, but Scarlet’s tight hold on her hips prevents any attempts.

“Too much.” Wanda chokes out, her vision darkening around the edges as Scarlet thrusts the toy deep inside her one last time. Her whole body is trembling, and she nearly sobs in relief when the vibrator is turned off and discarded somewhere on the bed.

“You did so well,” Scarlet murmurs, watching the cum stained strap as she slowly pulls it out of Wanda’s spasming pussy. She ignores the whimper that the action draws from Wanda, her fingers tracing gentle circles on the woman’s lower back as she finally pulls the toy out.

“I’ve never…” Wanda begins, her voice weak. Scarlet shushes her, twisting her spent body until Wanda is laying with her back against the mattress. Twisting her fingers, she removes the restraints around Wanda’s wrists, and sends her toys off to be cleaned, choosing to keep the ceiling mirror where it is.

Conjuring a warm, damp washcloth, Scarlet begins cleaning the multitude of juices coating Wanda’s inner thighs as her other hand strokes through the woman’s scarlet hair softly. Wanda practically basks in the attentive way Scarlet helps her down, grounding herself with each gentle stroke of the washcloth and each slow pass of the woman’s long fingers against her scalp.

“Feel good?” Wanda would scoff at the question, if she had the strength to do so. Instead, she chooses to nod slowly, her eyes closing of their own accord.

Eventually, Scarlet finishes cleaning her up, and presses a gentle kiss against Wanda’s swollen lips before laying down next to her and pulling her body close to her own.

“I bet we make quite a sight.” Wanda murmurs, turning to her side and facing the other version of herself. She still can’t quite believe that Scarlet is real, but the sex… now that certainly felt real.

“I’m real, darling.” Scarlet sounds tired, her arms wrapping around Wanda’s waist. “And I guarantee that we do.”

Wanda babbles something incoherent, already half asleep as she nuzzles further into Scarlet’s warmth. Her hands snake around the woman’s shoulders, pulling her closer as she pulls the comforter up around them. She tries to say something else, her words slurred as her eyes attempt to open, and Scarlet chuckles.

“Hush, Wanda. Go to sleep.” Her tone is fond, her own eyes closing even as she tries to keep them open. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

A single green eye peers up at her, sparkling in the dim lighting as a small smile appears on Wanda’s face. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

705 notes · View notes

ironstrange1991 · 11 months ago

Text

A Very Busy Sorcerer

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Stephen has been very busy the last few days and the reader decides he needs a moment to relax.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: SMUT: Handjob and some dirty talk. Use of the word daddy one or two times. Mostly fluff.

A/N: Working two jobs I haven't had much time to write, but I managed to finish this one for you guys and I hope you like it.

One of the things you tried not to do was disturb Stephen when he was working. You were still getting used to the idea of living together, even though you had been dating for almost 2 years and you were used to him sleeping in your apartment or you sleeping at the Sanctum almost every day, but actually living together was completely different and you wanted to show him that you knew how to respect his space and that you understood how busy he was.

However, since Stephen had set the date for the next mission with the Avengers he was always stressed, always worried and barely left the library, always reading and preparing for whatever he had to do. - As time went by, you stopped asking him to explain his missions to you. Today was no exception, Stephen was in the library, he was there all day in fact and even though it was Saturday, Wong was still wandering around the Sanctum instead of going back to the Kamar Taj like he normally did on the weekends, and you were bored and upset at being left aside and knowing that soon you would be alone in that huge house.

But you weren’t worried about yourself, you were worried about Stephen. He had barely been eating the last few days and when you brought it up he always said he was fine, but all that nervousness and stress couldn't be further from fine. You just wish you could find a way to make him stop and breathe for a minute and perhaps relax a little bit before going out on his mission. If you could just get him to talk to you a little, or eat something healthy, you'd feel less worried.

You found yourself searching for Wong to make sure he wasn't in the library too and found the Sorcerer Supreme in the Window of Worlds room doing who knows what. Having decided, you went to the library and found Stephen at his desk reading a huge book. He was so absorbed in his reading that he even noticed you approaching, even though Cloaky broke free from his shoulders and flew towards you.

He only noticed you when you were already at his side, asking so that the sentient relic could leave your both alone for a moment. Cloaky flew away happily and you smiled feeling a warmth in your heart. Sometimes you caught yourself thinking it was weird to have so much affection for a piece of clothing, but Cloaky was so much more than that you end up telling yourself every time.

Stephen sighed heavily as if he expected you to complain to him, even though he knew you never complained. Maybe he simply knew he had crossed the line today.

"Sweetheart, I know its Saturday and I know I should be spending some time with you, but I really need to find this specific spell..."

You shushed him wrapping your hands around his shoulders and positioning yourself right behind him. "I know. I didn't come here to complain, Steph. Do what you have to do." You said in a honeyed voice and began to massage his shoulders slowly. "I just want to spend some time with you while I can, if that's okay. I promise I won't disturb you."

He sighed heavily as you started working on a knot on his right shoulder and you could feel him melting under your touch and that was one of the things you loved most in the world.

"You could never disturb me, sweetheart. Hmm, this feels so good. I don't deserve you, Y/n."

"Shh. Enjoy it."

You smiled to yourself and continued with the massage and Stephen did his best to turn his attention back to his book which from what you could see was all written in runes.

It wasn't your intention to distract him, but you couldn't help but feel a little proud when you noticed how much he was melting into your touch, the slight moans he made every time you put more pressure on an area of his shoulders that needed to be worked on more carefully and – of course – it didn’t took long for dirty thoughts start to creep into your mind.

As the minutes passed, your hands began to become more daring, going down his defined chest covered by his blue robes and he sighed contentedly when your lips began to place little kisses on the back of his neck, going up to bite his earlobe and finally whispering into his ear.

"Does it feel good?"

He groaned, lolling his head back and closing his eyes and resting it on your chest.

"It's perfect. I'm so tired, sweetheart. You have no idea."

You nodded "Yes I do. I’ve been worried about you all day. That's why I'm here. I wanted to make you relax a little bit."

He hummed positively, "God, it's working. I love the way you work your hands, Y/n. They're delicate, but firm at the same time. Perfect."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest and decided to dare a little by running your hand down his chest until you reached his belt. "Yeah? What if I use them here. Do you think I can make you relax even more?"

Stephen almost purred feeling your fingers ghosting over a growing bulge. He let out a low moan when you held him over his pants, rubbing your hand against him to tease him and then you dedicated yourself to unbuckling his belt.

You placed a kiss on his neck and walked around his chair, placing yourself between him and his desk. Stephen moved the chair back, giving you more space and watched you kneel in front of him with a big and warm smile.

You unbuttoned his pants and quickly took his cock out. He was already half hard and you couldn't resist giving him a little kiss on the head as he moaned a little louder this time but quickly tried to compose himself.

"Sweetheart...Wong is still at the Sanctum."

You smiled mischievously, licking your hand and started pumping him up and down slowly.

"I know."

Stephen let out a nervous chuckle, but his cock quickly hardened in your hand. "You know he could come in here at any moment, then.” Though his words should sound like a warning, his voice broke with sweet moans and you thought they were really cute.

“Oh fuck... these hands... devilish."

You giggled, stopping just for a second so you could spit on his cock and go back to stroking him. The wet, lewd sound only adding even more to his pleasure.

Stephen bit his lower lip hard to try and suppress a loud moan at which you tsked.

"It's okay, let me hear you, Steph. Wong is up stairs, it's just you and me here. You know I love hearing your moans, they make me so wet. Sometimes I touch myself just thinking about it, replaying the sound on my head."

Stephen gasped as you held him tighter twisting your hand while moving it up and down. His legs shook a little and he moaned loudly for you just the way you loved to hear.

"So fucking dirty, sweetheart. Oh I love it! I love when you work your hands in my dick. The best handjob I ever had."

You smiled proudly. "Yeah? You're flattering me just because you want me to make you cum."

Stephen moaned even louder this time.

"God yes, please. I need you to make me cum, sweetheart. But it's not only because of that. You're perfect. You know I always say this. You’re always so good to me."

One of the things you loved most about Stephen was how controlling and rough he could be in sex and at the same time be sweet and affectionate. He was always so sweet when he let you have control over him like that, and you loved it.

You spat on his cock again and started working with both hands, rotating one from the base to the tip and the other massaging his balls. Stephen let out a groan and caressed your face, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down.

"Why don't you put that little mouth to work for me, uh? I'm dying for a blowjob."

You smiled mischievously, but even though his voice sounded so pleading and sexy, broken by small moans, you didn't give in. You know he would take back control to himself if you let him fuck your mouth, and you were loving that little submissive moment of his.

"I want you to cum on my hands, Stephen. You just told me how much you love them. They are not enough?"

"Yes I do. Shit! They’re more than enough, sweetheart. I could cum just from thinking about them as I did so many times. " He whispered between moans and his thighs trembled under your hands and his cock throbbed. "Fuck… but I need it faster, need more."

You bit your lip holding back a moan of your own. Seeing your man in that state was a huge turn on for you.

"Fuck Stephen... I'm so wet right now. Pussy is begging for you, and I know you want me too. So badly. You wanna put your cock inside me, don't you? Fell my pussy stretching around it..."

"Fuck yes." Stephen groaned and his cock jumped in your hand.

You started to work both hands on his cock, feeling him throb beneath them. He was so close, all he needed was a little push.

"Come on then, Steph, show me how much you love my hands. Cum all over them, make a mess for me. I just want you to feel relaxed, you deserve it. Have been working so hard these last few days. I just want to make you feel good."

"Oh yeah, sweetheart..." He moaned loudly. "Keep talking to me."

You smiled, satisfied now that you had him the way you wanted. "Give me your cum, daddy. Love you so much. I just want to be a good girl for you, wanna make daddy cum in my hands. I know you love my hands, Stephen. Show me how much. Give it to me."

Stephen let out a loud groan and started to cum. Warm and thick ropes of cum spurting from his cock and spilling onto your hands.

"There you go, Steph" You praised.

"Oh fuck... oh sweetheart. God, I love you, sweet girl." The words escaped his trembling lips as his body shook. His cum running down your fingers, some soiling the top half of his robes. A delicious mess.

He caressed your face, laughing softly, the sound making your heart jump in your chest.

"Such a good girl for daddy. Love you so much, Y/n."

You smiled sweetly at him watching as he conjured a cloth and began to clean himself as best as he could, but you knew it would take a lot more than that to get the smell of cum out of his robes.

He took your hands and began to gently clean them and then got rid of the dirty cloth and buttoned his pants and belts again with a flick of his fingers.

"I'll let you get back to work now." You said, getting up and threatening to leave, but he was faster. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to sit on his lap.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you go that easily?" He threatened with a smirk.

"I don't want to disturb your work, Steph."

He buried his face in your hair inhaling deeply.

"Too late for that, don't you think? Or did you really think I could go back to work after a handjob like that?"

You let out a small giggle "I didn't mean to."

He pulled your hair to the side and purposefully rubbed his goatee across the crook of your neck making your skin prickle. "Well, I think that was exactly your intention and now you got what you wanted."

"And what exactly did I want?" You asked, feigning innocence.

Stephen bit your earlobe "Making me hard for you, wanting to fuck you senseless until you ask me to stop."

"That’s not true." You said petulantly, turning to look at him and pulling him to your lips. "I never ask you to stop." You said biting his lip.

Stephen held you tight in his lap, standing up and opening a portal to his room. Work would have to wait.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing ;)

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