bakerstreet | Sexting. It's what's for dinner.

[Wanda knows Stephen's work as the Sorcerer Supreme is important, that sometimes he might be needed at Kamar-Taj for days at a time and someone must stay behind to guard the New York Sanctum. It's part of the package of her staying here.

But it's been a week. She's worried he's gotten too caught up in something again (is he eating, is he sleeping, did he even remember to shave) and it's starting to feel like she's rattling around in here without even the Cloak for company. She's been able to master the sling rings enough to have Natasha over for dinner one night, but it doesn't make the separation or the silence any easier to bear.

So finally, with the day drawing to a close, Stephen's phone will ping with a message. An image, to be exact. Her powers are helpful for taking selfies.]

thinking of you

[Hopefully he hasn't left his phone laying around where just anyone could pick it up...]

[He hasn't really meant for his stay in Karma-Taj to stretch for that long, but the students need guidance more than ever now, and for some reason, the masters are also looking up to him for some sort of leadership. Stephen has once said to Mordor that he wouldn't have never wanted to know what rested on the shoulders of the Ancient One, but it seems that her legacy had landed at his feet whether he had been ready to take it on or not. It makes his trips to the monastery that much more important. This one is his longest yet, and his days of training the students are blurred with studying with the other masters and looking for more information about the Infinity Stones with Wong.

While it's early night in New York, the light of dawn has barely tainted the night sky in Kathmandu, but Stephen is already in the library, trying to read a book found in the Ancient One's personal collection. Even if he's had about six hours of sleep, he can't seem to focus on the words in front of him. No, instead his mind wanders to what he misses most, the only reason why he's sleeping decent hours and is cleaned shaved and well fed, because Strange knows if he comes back to her not in tip top shape, Wanda will fuss and probably be angry with him, for good reasons too. No, in fact, he plans to show her first thing when he gets back how full of energy he is despite the long week here. Stephen misses her enough that he can clearly see all what he wants to do to her on his return to New York.

His train of thoughts is interrupt with the ping of his phone, and he chuckles warmly when he sees the picture she sent. It's like she can read his mind from across the world (that or she just knows him all too well). He looks at the pictures for a long moment, feeling that familiar coil of desire in his lower abdomen. He pauses, thinking on how morning chores, breakfast and training should keep the library empty for a long while still. And you know what? Screw this, he's making time for her this morning.]

Me too.

[Stephen sends a picture of his own, an image of his lap: he's wearing his usual red training pants, but in the dim light of the library, the bulge caused by her picture and his earlier daydreaming is quite visible.]

I seen you've went shopping while I was out?

[He really, really can't wait to see it up close.]

Edited 2018-05-16 01:57 (UTC)

is that all you see?

[Nat was right, that was definitely a quicker response than she was expecting. Looks like someone's missing her, too...

Wanda sends back another image, this time of the back. You know, for scientific purposes. Her pose seems casual, but she's arranged the panels just so to reveal enough skin to tantalize, but not what he really wants to see.

He'll have to come home for that.]

I would wear it today but the Sanctum is so cold...

[But it would be such an easy problem to fix.]

No, I also see you torturing me with pictures of things I really really miss from home.

[And she proves again that she knows him too well by sending a picture of the back of the nightdress and Stephen is convinced she posed it on purpose. He can see the outline of the curve of her ass and he groans lightly out loud, dropping his head against the cover of the book in front of him. There's nothing he woudn't give right now to be able to run his hand on her ass, or see it properly like that time he bent her over his desk in the study. He can feel his cock twitch at the memory and maybe he really should take a vacation home from the monastery for the day...]

Are you sure? Because it looks real hot to me...

[Absolutely not talking about the Sanctum anymore.]

think of it like a taste of things to come.

[There's another, pun completely intended, picture attached. Clearly it was taken earlier; baking and skimpy clothing do not mix, and there's more than one way to torment someone...

Wanda's bond with Stephen is strong enough that if she really, truly focuses, she can sort of make his mind out even at this distance. Probably something about the Sanctums being linked, or maybe she's just come that far under his tutelage.

She sends a small tendril of thought his way - warm with love and oddly chaste, despite her earlier texts. It's a gentle contact, a kind of psychic hello to see how he'll react.]

do you think I might be sick? maybe I need a doctor.

Edited 2018-05-16 03:54 (UTC)

Mmm, I think you meant to type 'things that I like the taste of that will come'...

[Oh yes, he absolutely means the lewd double entendre there.

Despite hating the obvious intrusion of his thoughts' privacy, they've trained her psychic abilities often enough that he's accustomed to signature. Their training together serve a purpose for both: him to mentally shield himself against potential psychic attacks, and her honing better that talent of hers.

And so when she reaches out for him, he's startled at first, but not scared: he knows instantly that it's her and no one else. Still, he looks over his shoulder, into the empty library and frowns lightly before shaking his head: he misses her and wants her so much that he's imagining her, right?

Her latest text is sure to make him chuckle lightly:]

I don't know, can you describe your symptoms?

Edited (I swear type, I can!) 2018-05-16 04:16 (UTC)

[He's not imagining the phantom touch sliding up his back on either side of his spine. It ghosts over his shoulders and circles back, repeating the same lazy pattern. Wanda can't feel him even though she can project the impression of touch into his mind, but she can guess that he needs to relax. It doesn't take a psychic to know that he's been working too hard.

Really, she's doing him a favor. He can thank her later.]

I am cold, and sometimes I think I can feel your touch. it's all I can think about at night.

[She's just...not going to tell him about the nightmares.]

but sometimes I feel too warm. do I look like I have a fever?

[Another image, cropped from the chest up: Wanda's laying back against the pillows in their bed, flushed, with her eyes closed, lips slightly parted, and the long pale column of her neck on full display. Her hair fans out around her, doing absolutely nothing to obscure her skin.]

[His breathing hitches up at her projected touches on his back and Stephens tenses lightly, before relaxing beneath her touch. It's a strange feeling, but the couch seems so real that Stephen can help but to feel even more aroused than he's been moments ago. It takes everything out of him not to squirm a bit in his seat, and instead tries to focus on her texts]

And what do you do when you think of my touches at night?

[It's better that she doesn't, because he would pack his things faster than she can say his name and go back home.

He has to bite into his lips to keep himself from moaning when he opens her next picture. She looks positively sexy in it, and the scene itself is very reminiscent of how she looks every time they make love. If she keeps this up, he's not going to be thinking clearly for very much longer.]

I'm not sure. You might be, I can see that you're flushed, but I need to know how low that goes before giving a professional opinion.

a lot of wishing my hands are your hands. I think you know the feeling?

[If the good doctor needs another picture, she's happy to oblige. The next image shows the rest of her, the fabric of the babydoll splayed out around her and really only keeping her breasts still covered. One of Wanda's legs is hitched up and the damp spot on her panties is unmistakable. The material's so thin it doesn't take much.

The touches shift to achingly slow phantom kisses along his collarbone and up his neck. Normally her hands would be all over him too but there's only so much Wanda can do at this distance. The link between the Sanctums helps, but he's still on the other side of the world.]

Better?

Oh, I do know the feeling.

[His hands are never going to compare to hers, after all. The next picture is positively torture, and the feeling of her projected kisses on his neck isn't helping at all. Stephen feels like she's cheating, using her powers like she is, but then again, Wanda's powers works both ways as well. Maybe if he focus hard enough on something, she'll see it in her mind too? It's worth a shot.

Grinning wickedly, he sends another text:]

Do you think of just my hands?

[Stephen closes his eyes, and using the perfectly memorized selfie she just sent him, he imagines one hand running down her body, one finger tracing a line from her collarbone to her peaked nipple before dipping onto her exposed stomach, passing below her navel and forking to slide alongside her inner thigh. In his mind, he bends over he body, catching the same pert nipple his hand just teased with his mouth, feeling the coolness of the satin material in his mouth instead of her skin. He still licks and suckle at the hardened bud, until the satin is soaked enough that Wanda would feel it against her skin.

Hopefully, this thought is focused and strong enough in his mind for her to catch on to it, because it's vivid enough for him that one hand has dropped beneath the table he's sitting at in the library to rub against the painful erection trapped in his pants.]

[Across the world, Wanda's left whining and squirming against the pillows. The kisses break off in a gasp without the corresponding movement of air, surprise and desire flooding their fledgling link. He knows what she likes a little too well, and even though she can only feel his own imaginings, her mind can easily extrapolate.

This time, there's a delay in her response, as if the psychic feedback wasn't proof enough of the effect he's having on her.]

I also wish for your lips, your tongue, your hard cock inside me

[And no Stephen, you're not imagining that soft, lingering kiss to the tip of it. She's hardly going to be stopped by something as mundane as pants or underwear. It doesn't even matter if it would be physically impossible for Wanda to fit between his legs right now. Phantom fingers trace down his thighs and back up, only to be joined again by kisses slowly moving back towards his erection.

Before they can reach their intended target, a five-second video arrives: Wanda, eyes unfocused as they always are when she steps into someone else's mind, sighing and kneading the same breast he's imagining suckling. Her fingers have already worked her nipple into an obviously stiff peak even under the lace of her babydoll. "Stephen...' she moans just as the video cuts off.

The only question is whether or not he dares to open it. Anyone could walk in, and Wanda wasn't exactly whispering...]

Edited 2018-05-22 19:50 (UTC)

[His talents as a psychic don't need to be exceptional to feel the wave of desire coming from Wanda's mind and Stephen smiles smugly at the small victory: she can definitely feel his thoughts if he focuses enough on them.

But his sense of victory is short lived when he feels her ghost touch on his cock. Stephen thinks he's imagining it at first and the hand rubbing himself over his pants stops moving for a moment, one long enough that he realizes it's really her touch between his legs. This time around, it's impossible t stop his moan, but he manages to muffle it by resting his head against his arm. He tenses in anticipation as he feels her mind kisses moving back up to his cock, but then nothing happens, except the sound of his phone indicating that she's sent a video to him.

He's out of breath and taunt as a bow, but he knows better than to open the video in the library. Instead, he opens a portal back to his room, where he knows he'll have the privacy to take care of that painful erection. Stephen lets himself fall on hi back on his bed before he watches the clip Wanda sent. He curses under his breath when she moans his name, but still manages to send her another text:]

Good. I wouldn't want you to forget the feeling...

[And so saying, the scene in his mind shifts forward in time: his mouth is kissing and licking at her sex instead of her breast, the thin material of her panties completely soaked and barely hiding her swollen folds. The taste of her is so sharp in his mind that Stephen can almost taste her on his tongue, back in his room. One hand has done quick work of the ties of his pants and has dipped underneath the waistband of his boxer short to curl around his stiff cock. There's another moan leaving his lips as he runs his thumb over the head before his hand slides down to the base of his cock.

Wanda was right, he's been needing this more than he realized.]

[Moving back to his room was probably a wise decision, because Wanda's finally decided to take pity on him and stop teasing. The phantom mouth moves to kiss the head of his cock again, treating him to the ghost of an exhale before finally licking a long, lavish stripe up the underside from base to tip.]

How could I? I can almost taste you right now

[She keeps licking and sucking at him, slowly taking more of him in as if she's trying to savor every inch. Longing is beginning to seep into their link, not just for her lover but for his company, for the way they joke around and how something in her finally relaxes when he's near. Too many emotions are flooding her senses and the psychic link intensifies in response. Now if Stephen focuses, he might be able to feel whispers of her hair across his stomach and thighs or warmth where her body would be if she was with him right now.

Meanwhile, her hand drifts south to work her own panties off and finally touch herself with another sigh of relief. It would feel so much better if he was really here with her, but soon her hand finds a rhythm with his imagined tongue. Such a shame he can't hear her whispered pleading.]

[Something of a cross between a curse and a moan escapes Stephen when he feels the psychic touch of her mouth on his cock, the hand wrapped around his shaft moving in time with her sent thoughts. The combination of both mental an physical stimulation is so intense that the imagery in his mind of his lavishing her with his tongue wavers. He's clearly losing focus, his thoughts drifting to memories of past times she's given him a blowjob, and to how she looked, her mouth wrapped round his cock as she looks up at him.

He's almost ashamed to say that he's not going to last long if Wanda keeps this up, and the way their bond intensifies with her sense of longing, and that bright warm feeling of how at peace she is when they are together is certainly not helping. He tries to send her a text, but grows frustrated with the too many typos he's making, and chooses to switch to voice instead:]

I can't type with one hand. [His breathing is clearly heavy, and his voice strained with desire, just like when he talks dirty to her during sex. If Wanda ever doubted having an effect on him despite the distance, there's proof enough now.]

That's a neat trick you though there. That's almost cheating, even.

[Wanda's also clearly not unaffected - the phone is close enough to her to pick up her soft sighs and quickened breaths. She hums thoughtfully, though in practice it's halfway to a moan, sending phantom echoes of vibrations around his cock.]

You've been away for a week. You can't blame me for wanting to feel you.

[Her fingers keep the rhythm even if Stephen's daydreams start to wander. It's frustrating, really, how she can feel him so clearly but he's still not here. Her hips buck against nothing, and there's no one here for her to arch up into or clutch at. Wanda's longing might be sated in the moment, but when she breaks the link the Sanctum's going to feel more empty than ever.

But for now, she whimpers in shared pleasure again. Neither of them are going to last very long at this rate.]

Stephen...just relax. [She's not sure how well the illusion is holding up under this dual assault of pleasure, but she can definitely focus on making sure the more sensitive spots on his cock get extra attention. She knows very well by now where he likes her tongue best - this is hardly one of the first times she's given him a blowjob.] Let me take care of you.

[It's a slight torture to hear her sighs and whimpers and not being able to see her face, the way her nose scrounges up slightly when she focuses on her pleasure, or how she bites down on her lower lip to keep herself to moan too loudly before he always brings her to that point of no return where she doesn't keep in any sounds of pleasure. Still, he can see her face clearly in his mind, and he smiles longingly at the image, even if Wanda can't see it. ]

Mmm, are you implying that I'm tensed?

[He says with a breathless chuckle, before there's a soft curse that escapes his lips when he feels the psychic feel of her tongue against all the sensitive spots of his cock. He can feel it curl around the head and lick along the underside, and the image he focuses in his mind reflects what he feels. The hand around his shaft quickens the pace of the up and down motion while Stephen imagines Wanda closing her mouth over his cock, slowly taking in more and more inches, her hand covering the rest of the length she can't reach with her mouth. He thinks of her letting of it with a soft sigh, leaving his cock glistening with her saliva before repeat the process over again.]

Wanda...

[He doesn't want to be done so quickly, but he's so, so close now...]

[Wanda answers with a breathless laugh of her own that ends in another gasp of pleasure.]

Not for long.

[Another promise punctuated with a long lick up the underside of his cock. Their minds are so tightly entwined that she can no longer quite tell where his pleasure ends and hers begins. Of course Wanda would much rather they not be separated for so long, but being able to connect with him like this helps soothe her loneliness. It's still not enough, it could never hold a candle to actually having Stephen in her arms, but it's infinitely better than simple texting.

The phantom mouth and hands keep time with Stephen's imagination, and Wanda's cries and moans become louder and more frequent as both their paces quicken. He's so close (they're so close), she can feel it, and so the last suckle at the head of his cock is extra intense.]

Stephen, Stephen--!

[Wanda doesn't even bother trying to muffle her sounds. It's too much, she can't hold on any longer under the weight of their shared pleasure, it's lacking but still so incredibly good. She comes on a final cry of his name as she arches off the bed, toes curling as her fingers scramble for purchase in the sheets. For a long moment all she can do is lay there, try to remember how to breathe, and keep the psychic blow job going.]

I love you.

[It's a breathless, desperate whisper as she fumbles for the phone to switch it to video mode, body still not fully calmed from her orgasm. She needs to see him.]

[Wanda is not wrong on that point, and in between the images in his mind, the psychic touch of her mouth on his cock and her moaning his name, he's getting dangerously close to the edge. But it's the feel of her orgasm through their link, the way he feels pleasure rolling in and crashing into her that does him in.

Stephen gasps and groans, before covering his face with his arm to muffle the sound of his moans, his phone still in his hand so Wanda can't miss any of the sounds she's managed to the pull out of him.]

Hgn, Wanda...

[There's a blinding light behind his eyes as he reaches his climax, and warmth spreads over his limbs as his seeds spills on his stomach, his breathing ragged and quick. He lets himself revel in the sluggishness that comes after an orgasm, forgetting for a moment that he's in his room at Kamar-Taj instead of New York. But the morning bustle outside of his door reminds him of where he is, and Stephen opens his eyes to see Wanda's face on his phone. He smiles languorously at her:]

I love you too.

[He moves his arm so he can see her better, enjoying the view even if they are far from one another: she wears that languid look he likes to see so much on her after sex. Even if she managed to chase away the tension that had accumulated in his shoulders during the past week, Stephen finds that he misses her more than he initially thought.]

You win, love. I'm coming home tonight.

[She moans with him as he cums, their link intensifying the aftershocks of her own orgasm. She can hear him, she can sense him, and now she can see him, but the lack of touch leaves her hyperaware of how empty their bed is. Right now she wants nothing more than to curl up in his arms and bask in their shared afterglow...but that will have to wait.

Still, Wanda looks an utter wreck - flushed and still trying to catch her breath, eyes glowing with the effort of sustaining the connection, and a lazy smile that could only have come from one thing. Phantom lips press to his in a promise of things to come if he can only make it through the rest of his day.]

Then you should be here in the morning. [She smiles warmly, and again the phantom touch moves where she'd want to, nuzzling into his neck.] Wake me up? I'll make it worth your trouble...

[After her shower, she'll get back into bed and arrange the panels of the babydoll so the first thing Stephen will see entering their room is her ass. She knows what he likes.

...and facing away from the door, he won't see her face contorted from nightmares.]

Sexting. It's what's for dinner.

because we don't have enough threads

There is never enough of these two <3

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[text] -> [voice]

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