InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Bad as new."

ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ (mysticism) wrote in valloic,
@ 2021-10-26 17:44:00

Entry tags:

!: action/thread/log, ~plot: timeslip, ₴ inactive: stephen strange, ₴ inactive: wanda maximoff

WHO: Wanda & Stephen
WHAT: Having a talk about the 'oh, we have a kid' thing and the L-word thing and how shitty their home world is thing
WHERE: The Sanctum
WHEN: Saturday or Sunday, post Ibuprofen-Con 2021
WARNINGS: Nothing really all that scandalous
STATUS: Complete

Out of all the things Vallo threw at them - this was Wanda’s favorite.

Okay, yes, everything was actual chaos. Tommy was older, he had a daughter, she may have more or less adopted Toph into the family. Heavy metal was now echoing through their halls without restraint because their own daughter was apparently going deaf, and she had already asked Stephen to please examine her ears, this can’t be good for her. And Iryna’s girlfriend - definition of precious. Wanda was always known to be more reserved; collected and mysterious and a lot dangerous, but lately?

Lately there was some pep in her step. Nothing outrageous and worthy of a sitcom persona but obviously she wasn’t upset by the turn of events. Definitely not upset that she and Stephen somewhere, down the line, have a baby. Which was something that needed addressing, but things had been hectic and they’d been spending so much time with Iryna while she was here that they hadn’t really gotten the chance to discuss what all this meant for them. And Wanda wanted to.

Tonight was a bit calmer. Not by much, but she and Stephen hadn’t felt the need to hit the bed and pass out instantly from the domestic madness unraveling around them. Iryna was playing something - it was loud again, and they could block the sound out with a flick of her wrist but she was also trying to decipher all the angry screaming involved in the song? What were even the lyric.

“Are you sure you checked her ears right?” Wanda inquired, stepping out of their shared bathroom and into the bedroom dressed in, ah, not much. A scarlet robe with a sash keeping it together, maybe some underwear under? Anyway, she was in the middle of her routine of moisturizing and her hands smelled like a jelly donut. “I think this is Viking metal. I'm almost certain this singer keeps screaming out Thor’s name.”

Stephen didn’t care what anyone said, this wasn’t music. To him, it still sounded like The Last Exorcism of Insert Name here - and whatever ‘Viking metal’ was, it belonged in the depths of space, where it could torment listeners no longer. He was about two seconds from casting a privacy spell to end the madness - but tilted his head, considering.

“I’m sure,” he replied to Wanda’s inquiry, closing the book he was reading and setting it aside, stretching out on the bed. For him, his pajamas weren’t overly luxurious - nothing silky, just a soft t-shirt made of cotton and flannel pants; he was barefoot otherwise, and the Cloak was hung up on its rack and taking a metaphysical snooze. It had earned that, after helping with the family dinner that was more like a sitcom skit than anything else - appliances and food floated through the air in an elaborate dance, magic sparked to and fro, Sil looked like she wanted to crawl under the table, and Tommy was a blur through a lot of it.

Stephen loved it though. It was everything he didn’t know he wanted and more.

“Somehow she has no hearing loss so I’m hoping it’s just a stage,” he emphasized the word, then finally cast the right magic - geometric patterns lighting up in an orange glow and sinking into the walls - and that was the end of that; the music was more like the low thrum of white noise in the background. “You smell good,” he noted, eyebrow quirking suggestively - he didn’t understand most of Wanda’s beauty products though. Most of them smelled like sweet desserts - and yet he wasn’t supposed to eat them, so. Mixed signals. “Going to let me nibble on you?”

The privacy spell was probably for the best. Wanda was sure that was how they handled it in the future too - teenagers didn’t really listen so they might as well step in and put some soundproofing over their own. Her ears were ringing but she didn’t exactly mind it? While she could feel Iryna’s presence - a red string of fate tethered to her, much like the ones she felt for the others she loved the most - the music was tangible proof that she was still here.

She might miss it once it’s gone. Maybe. (She will.)

“Mmm,” she hummed, just about done rubbing the lotion into her skin as she made her way over. Slow and sensual, until her knees hit the bed and she crawled over towards him on all fours. “I’ll allow it. Is that the real reason why you put up that spell, Dr. Strange?”

Wanda was hovering over him now, and she dipped her head to capture his mouth into a kiss.

Well, forget the music that sounded like an utter car wreck - Stephen’s whole world shrank down to the entire supernova he felt burning and coiling within him when Wanda went for that kiss. Everything swirled in melting watercolors as his scarred, red-lined hands reached up and combed through her hair, cradling her face.

“Maybe,” he smirked against her mouth. “You know me so well.” He added more kisses too, ones that were deep and dizzying and ones that probably felt more like hunger pangs - she brought it out of him, what could he say.

And sharp blue eyes were already drugged with lust when he looked at her - but there was more than that too. His hands moved to appreciate the shape of the beloved Mother of his Child - by planting on her backside and holding there, since that seemed like a good way to begin worship.

Perfect time to straddle him then, bracketing his waist with her thighs mid-kiss because this was a position she found herself in quite a bit. The sash did little to keep the robe together well, and the more their lips moved and slotted together the more it came undone (nope, there wasn’t anything underneath). But before things got a little too spicy -

Wanda reached up to keep the fabric closed over her skin so as to not distract, and she ended the dance of kisses despite the haze of want that took over the blue of her eyes. “We should probably talk,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip as if to hold back a smile. No, this wasn’t a bad conversation, and she was very interested in the activities but they needed to address a few things. “About us?” Her other hand went to his face, thumb grazing the sharp line of his cheekbone. “About having a child together sometime in the future?”

Their relationship was still a little new - very passionate and physical but it wasn’t all they had. The affection between them had grown though, exponentially. There was a label for it now, at least for Wanda. She never thought she’d get to this point this quickly after everything that had happened but here she was. It felt… good.

Right, talking - they were supposed to talk now. Stephen tried to focus, to bang brain cells together, but it wasn’t exactly instantaneous. Best they do the actual talking now, then, rather than waiting until the grenade pin had been pulled and basically vaporized -

There was a euphemism to be found somewhere. Really.

But if Wanda wanted to discuss this, well, they would discuss it - they didn’t need to skip right to the part where they fucked like rabbits, as he was certain it would come at some point after this conversation; Stephen basically responded to whatever she wanted to do - worked with her, not against her. In all things, all components, everything which hammered against his psyche where he was hardwired to respond to his beloved.

“Us,” he repeated, one hand gliding up her side, along her ribcage - he didn’t slip it beneath the robe (yet), since she was intent on keeping her breasts out of this talk. What a shame, he was a fan of those. “Well - you’re happy, you love her. And I love her. And...I love you,” he said, as if it made all the sense in the world. Which it did. “I don’t need to consult the time stone, wondering how this came to be.”

There was a simplicity in the way he said things that admittedly caught Wanda by surprise. In the best way, though - because he looked so unburdened by the fact of it all, as if things like duty and destiny didn’t hover over the two of them like a catastrophic storm cloud waiting to happen. As if he could finally choose things for himself and not for the greater good of every other soul in their reality.

Some shifting happened so she could lay on him and the bed, leg tangled into his while an arm stretched over him. Last time they had confessed feelings for each other the experience had been electric - he overwhelmed her senses and she did the same to his, and they ended up in this very bed spent and stripped from the barriers of clothing.

Not that she didn’t want to repeat history but this confession was one she wanted to simmer in.

So she looked up at him adoringly, using his shoulder as a pillow. “I am happy,” she confirmed with a small smile. “I love her - and I love you too. Are you happy?”

There was just as much adoration in Stephen’s gaze as he observed Wanda, one hand lifting to card his fingers through her hair. He was a person who had come to understand that sifting through timelines, millions of them, meant knowledge - knowledge of what could be. Of what was. But in this case, knowledge also meant pain - it was a godawful burden to bear, though it seemed like he was going to be juggling his lion’s share of burdens back in his and Wanda’s world.

It wasn’t like that here, however. Here was different. “I’m happy,” he confirmed. “But I’m also - terrified. Not of anything we have right now,” Stephen clarified, because the idea of murder hornets or the ground turning to the surface of the moon or whatever, that didn’t fill him with fear. Neither did settling down or having a family - he wasn’t allergic to commitment or marriage or the dad life. Far from it.

“What if we remember something from home? I just don’t want it to seep in here. There’s not much good about home.”

But. There was always one of those, wasn’t there?

Not that she didn’t share his concerns. Wanda dreaded what other memories they could receive from home too. There was no it’s over, live happily ever after scenarios for any of them (except for maybe their version of Steve Rogers who decided to stay back in time, she supposed) and it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed. Probably not in a good way either with how obsessively she’d been studying the Darkholde.

“There’s not,” Wanda agreed with a deep inhale through her nose, fingertips tracing patterns of nonsense over his chest. “But I want this life - and you - more than you know, Stephen. Whatever we find out from back home is just something we will have to work through here and eventually make peace with.”

It was like living double-lives, kind of. They were lovers and playing magic house here but back home they could be foes instead of allies. Neither of them had the luxury for a white picket fence and a domesticated Sanctum and, doubtfully, Iryna would exist. But things would unfold the way they were meant to back on Earth and they couldn’t do anything to stop it.

They could at least decide how to handle it here. It was easier said than done, though. Wanda wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

Stephen hated it. He hated that there was a very real possibility that they were going to clash like the two titans they were - oil and water, two opposite magnets - and there wasn’t really anything he could do to stop it. He had to protect reality, it was on him and only him - the other Masters of the Mystic Arts, sure, but the Sorcerer Supreme held most of the burden.

He was so tired of burdens - of Fate. Of destiny. Of old books that corrupted with their dark influences - the crux of it was that he didn’t want to hurt Wanda. He was afraid that he would. That he’d see her, so far gone - beyond any sense of reason. That he’d have to remember what it was like, how it felt.

“We’ll work through it,” he agreed, hands now beginning to stroke down Wanda’s back. “And now you know I love you and I want this too - even if something comes up that is the exact opposite of that, it’s only one path and it’s not the one I would choose.” One path out of an indiscernible number of alternate futures - there was no Sacred Timeline anymore. Stephen had to keep that in mind.

What awaited them in their world, well. It was only a pebble in a pond.

There was this knot in her throat that was suddenly just - there. Its presence stung, and swallowing it felt like thorns scratching down the inside of her throat. Wanda had embraced her magic, yes. She’d come to terms with the Scarlet Witch title but she wasn’t about to let the mythos of destruction that surrounded it define her, and she wanted to believe that she’d become better than the woman who screamed her grief into existence and molded an intricate fantasy to cope.

Though she was sure she wouldn’t get what she wanted back home, and Stephen would probably meet the same fate.

“Is there -” Wanda swallowed again, painfully. Then, she paused to think - to think about how to phrase her feelings, what words to say. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, and those fingers stilled to curl into his shirt. “You know if I do something you can’t forgive me for, you’d tell me. Right? And you know you - you don’t have to stay.”

“I’m staying,” Stephen insisted, and he didn’t even have to think about that. “I’d tell you what happened if I suddenly got a download of new information - “ Because that seemed to be a bullshit fun experience for other people and he had no doubt it would happen to them too; he’d be kidding himself otherwise. Not with how unstable the multiverse was back in their world, currently trying to knit itself back together after the effects of the Blip.

Everything was cracking like glass, spidery cracks in it all that resembled a road map - what road would they choose? What would they go down?

He squeezed Wanda closer to him, even if there was almost zero space in between their bodies - however he wanted to cement the fact that he wouldn’t leave her. “But I’m not going to judge this you based on what another you did in a whole other timeline. You’ve come so far, Wanda. We both have. And Iryna is just proof that we make it - though I’m certain there are countless other timelines where we make it too.”

Now, could she leave him? Sure. He supposed it was possible. “If you decide to leave though, it’s your choice. I’d never stand in the way of what you wanted.”

Wanda’s brows furrowed because that was ridiculous, how could she ever - but the conversation was serious, she very well knew he meant what he said. “I know you wouldn’t,” she replied carefully. Her fingers slid up his chest, settled on his jaw to tilt his face more towards her. Until their lips were close again, noses barely apart. “But I’m not leaving. How does that one song go again, um.”

Her nose crinkled in thought as her mind searched for the lyrics, and then, softly with a suppressed laugh: “It’s going to take a lot to drag me away from you, there’s nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.”

And before Stephen made any retort to her attempt at singing, Wanda got rid of the space between their faces by sealing his mouth with a kiss. This conversation was important but they had also told one another they loved each other, and would it be so bad to focus on that for once? Hypotheticals could be obsessed over later.

The strangled grunt Stephen made in response, right as Wanda kissed him, definitely carried its fair share of amusement - also surprise, because he wasn’t expecting her to quote Africa by Toto at him (it was one of his favorite songs though, and he liked to think that he engaged in an endless troll-a-thon with Iryna, Viking screamers versus the wonder that was this specific 1982 single and its various covers). But it worked though. He got the point.

“Well, how can I argue with that,” he smirked against her lips - about two seconds away from suggesting that their wedding song also be Africa by Toto, but then decided that maybe they should plan that sort of thing later. After he’d officially proposed and actually had a ring for her.

Marriage. A kid. It was so wholesome, so pure - and sure did beat whatever nonsense another version of him was currently handling, and that this Stephen was currently unaware of. Surely the two worlds would collide again, at some point, but it would happen when it happened and he’d have to deal with it then. Not right now.

“You’re so beautiful,” he hummed then, just taking a moment to appreciate - it was soft when he said it, soft in tone and in his expression too. No one really got to see these moments. He hid them, buried deep, but the truth of the matter was - Stephen had a lot of love to give. And he was glad he chose that, over solitude. Being as lonely as the single cloud drifting across the sky really wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Success. He smirked, she smiled. It was impossible not to now, because the grim dip of their conversation aside Wanda was happy. Happy about their present, happy about their future - and she was going to do her best to sever the fear tethered to her that something or someone would rip this out from underneath her feet.

(Gods forbid someone tries. She’d fucking destroy them.)

Then he looked at her, like that, and she couldn’t help but kiss him again. This one had a bit more eagerness, a touch of desperation, the kind that had her climb on top of him with little regard to how her robe was beginning to slip open again. Her hair fell around them like a fiery mess. “The Sorcerer Supreme,” she murmured into his lips before kissing him again, shorter and softer. “Capable of being such an adorable sap. How attractive of you.”

Climb aboard, Wanda, it wasn’t like Stephen was complaining. She’d rooted her way into each of his chakras (he knew where they all were - it was an important part of studying with the Ancient One at Kamar-Taj), his nerve endings; fireworks exploded at the back of his eyelids when he kissed her, and he thought that maybe the serious conversation about shit they couldn’t exactly control was finished for now.

Or it should be, anyway. It was apparent that he was interested in moving on, as electricity skittered up and down the bony architecture that was his spinal cord - he’d rather just focus on how it felt with Wanda straddling him, and let everything become solely this moment. “Maybe don’t tell anyone,” he suggested in a low murmur, teasing, helping out with her robe.

By ‘helping out’ that just meant he slipped his hands beneath, and since it was open now it was basically an expanse of smooth skin he had to touch - so it really couldn’t be prevented. “Do you want to see how well this silencing spell holds?”

That skin was coming exposed now, and his scarred hands against her felt like home - they’d explored every inch of her far too many times, he was definitely more than welcome to do it again and again. “Mmm,” Wanda hummed and pushed herself up to sit, and she lifted her hands to help peel the silky fabric off her shoulders. They slid down her arms slowly. “That was always my plan.”

Part of her was hoping the spell would break and they’d teach their daughter a little lesson or two on volume control (the finest revenge), but regardless - she was really planning on making both of them test how well it held.