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His lips chased her fingers as she dragged them gently over his face. Wanda smiled sadly, kissed his temple, rested just a little more of her body weight down as she leaned over him. “Why not?” Vision asked, brows furrowed.
“Because, my love,” Wanda continued to ignore the whips and paddles he had set out only for her to make clatter to the ground. “Only I get to punish you. And right now you are trying to punish yourself.”
He had presented himself to her with all the usual tools ready to go. He had gagged himself, the black ball stark against his white features. He kneeled on the hardwood in wait, but the moment Wanda came through the bedroom door, she had picked up on the emotions he was trying to hide. “Baby,” she knelt beside him and unclasped the gag. He wriggled his jaw on its release and stared pleadingly at her. He didn’t have time to say anything before she had him wrapped in a tight embrace, warm and loving. He tentatively hugged her back, and felt the floor fall away as she used her magic to lift them both. The blankets came down over him, the tools which were atop them all falling away to the floor. “We’re not doing anything today,” Wanda whispered and began tracing his lines like she always did when he was in distress.
Only she gets to punish him. Even on days such as this. The anniversary of him trying to kill her. Of their family slipping through their fingers. Of her exile from the public.
“Please,” he begged, eyes glancing over at the fallen impact gear.
“You came back to me,” She kissed him where his gem used to be. Where his blue solar crystal now was embedded. “It doesn’t matter how. I could never punish you for coming home.”