American comic book: Absolute Spider-Man

Chapter 102 Back Embrace

The dwarven kingdom does indeed possess a neutron star forge, which has produced artifacts like Mjolnir and Gungnir, made from Uru steel.

However, the dwarves do not have this level of precision technology. It would be extremely difficult to carve Planck-scale logic circuit structures inside Uru Steel using neutron star pulses.

Peter happens to possess a technology that meets the requirements, but he lacks the ability to create it.

The authority of the microscopic realm lies with the power of mystery, not with the opposing living abyss.

After saving the spear's design in Jarvis's database, Peter left Avengers Tower.

Sokovia, the old building that Wanda recreated with magic.

Reality altered by chaos magic will persist unless it is re-altered by the caster.

Even if the caster loses consciousness or dies, this reality will persist.

Therefore, this building is already a real entity, even though Wanda doesn't know its detailed structure or every detail inside.

She can create anything below her in the mystical degree hierarchy, as long as she desires it.

In the living room, Pietro was sprawled on the sofa in an extremely contorted position, holding a game controller in his hand.

On the TV screen in front of me is a game character who has been killed by the BOSS.

He heard the door open and went into high-speed mode.

In the almost still world, he got up from the sofa and looked at the uninvited guest.

He saw that the person who had come was the avenger who had tripped him up before.

Although Wanda had told him that their enemies were not the Avengers, he still subconsciously felt nervous when he saw the Avengers.

Pietro looked toward the kitchen, considering whether he should run away with Wanda.

Peter's voice rang out in a way that defied the laws of physics, in a world where sound couldn't travel fast enough: "Don't be nervous, we're all family."

Pietro looked incredulously at Peter, who was able to keep up with his speed.

Pietro swallowed hard. "What—what are you going to do?"

"Can't I ask my girlfriend?" After saying that, Peter resumed his normal pace and headed towards the kitchen.

As Pietro watched Peter's retreating figure, he suddenly felt that the world was so unfamiliar.

In the kitchen, Wanda was washing vegetables with her head down.

Peter leaned against the kitchen door frame, neither going in nor speaking, but simply standing there, tracing the outline of her profile with his gaze.

The water from the tap has stopped.

"What is it?" Wanda didn't turn around, but drained the water from the washed lettuce.

"Can't I miss you?" Peter said.

"No." Wanda finally turned around. She leaned against the sink, her hands gripping the edge of the marble countertop. "I told you, our relationship is making me feel confused. Stop bothering me."

Peter took a step forward, went into the kitchen, closed the door, and walked up to Wanda. "May I ask for your help?"

"Help with what?"

"There are some things I can't do, so I want you to help me try to see if chaos magic can do it," Peter said, grabbing Wanda's hand.

Wanda abruptly pulled her hand back, turned around, and continued washing the vegetables, her movements much rougher than before, splashing water onto the table.

"So you only think of me when you're in trouble, ha, men."

Peter smiled and shook his head. What a hypocritical woman.

I can't say I miss you, but I get upset if I ask you for help.

Peter gently wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder: "So what do you want me to say?"

Wanda froze, the lettuce in her hand was deformed from her grip, and the icy water flowed over her fingers.

"I don't want anything, it's best if you don't come looking for me."

"That won't do," Peter gently kissed the witch's cheek, which was covered by a few strands of hair. "The world without you is black and white, colorless to me."

Wanda turned her face away, preventing Peter's kiss from continuing: "Did you say the same thing to Gwen?"

Peter did not answer.

Wanda always liked to mention Gwen, as if she thought that this would let Peter know what they would have to face in the future, so that he would back down.

Peter will not back down; he will only hold on tightly to everyone he loves.

Wanda's sarcastic remarks did not deter him; on the contrary, he saw them as blatant provocation.

Peter responded to the provocation.

He pressed her against the sink from behind, wrapping one hand around her waist to hold her tightly, and pinching her chin with the other, forcing her to turn her face to the side.

Wanda was locked in this position, unable to move, her back pressed tightly against Peter's chest, her hands only able to support herself on the cold marble surface of the sink.

Peter kissed Wanda's lips as she protested.

Wanda's lips were tightly closed, as if she were making a last-ditch effort.

But Peter wasn't in a hurry. He just gently rubbed his lips against the corners of her mouth again and again, as if coaxing a cat with its fur standing on end.

Wanda's fingers gripped the edge of the sink tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force, and her wet fingertips leaving streaks on the stone surface.

Peter tightened his grip on her chin slightly, and Wanda let out a muffled protest, but her jaw snapped in the process.

When he burst in, he felt her fingers tighten suddenly on the edge of the sink. The kiss forced him to lean back slightly, but he had nowhere to retreat because of the hand around his waist.

Wanda's kissing skills were still so clumsy and haphazard, like a kitten thrown into water thrashing about aimlessly.

But compared to before, at least she was willing to respond to Peter.

In this position where she couldn't even turn around, she could only pour all her cooperation into her lips and tongue.

She would tremble slightly each time Peter's tongue swept across her palate, and during the pauses between breaths, she would unconsciously follow, as if telling Peter not to stop.

Her hand, which had nowhere else to go, finally moved away from the edge of the sink and groped for Peter's hand that was around her waist.

She couldn't grab his hair, couldn't climb up his nape, could only weave her fingers between his, as if trying to find a foothold for herself in this completely suppressed position.

At this distance, Peter could see every trembling eyelash of Wanda's, and the tear glistening in the corner of her eye caused by the feeling of suffocation.

Her brows were furrowed, and her expression was as if she were angry, or as if she were enduring something.

But she didn't push him away.

Her fingers tightened around his, and the cool water from washing vegetables in her palm dampened the back of his hand.

Peter only released her lips when both of their breaths became rapid and hot.

A strand of silver thread stretched between their parted lips, then broke.

Wanda leaned against the sink, panting heavily.

Peter breathed into her ear: "I like this position."

Hearing such shameless words, she turned around and angrily punched Peter in the chest.