Work Text:
“I told you, you gotta stop moving. You’re going to smudge it.”
Wanda looked up at you over her shoulder, a small, apologetic smile curving her lips. “I’m sorry. The paint is cold.”
“Of course it is, it’s paint.” you replied teasingly, mixing a new shade of blue on your paint palette with your brush.
The two of you were in the studio apartment you’d rented for the week, the curtains thrown wide of let in the warmth and light of Paris’ midafternoon sun. She way laying on the bed beneath the window, her hair tucked over her shoulder. She was dressed only in a pair of faded blue jeans, her bare back exposed to you, the planes of pale skin only interrupted by the paint you were carefully applying to it.
“Thank you again for doing this, by the way.” you continued. “I don’t think I could have made this trip if I didn’t get this done while I was here.”
“Happy to,” she said simply. Her arms were folded in front of her chest, and she leaned her cheek on them, watching your face as you worked. “If a couple of hours being covered in paint means that I get you for a whole week, I think I can make the sacrifice. Besides, I like watching you work.”
You felt yourself warm at the comment, and you pressed your lips together in an attempt to hide your bashful smile. “It can’t be that exciting.”
“‘Exciting’ might be the wrong word,” she replied softly, a lazy smile still on her lips and her eyes half-closed. She’d been learning to speak with an American accent while she was away, but in times like this, the dulcet tones of her native Sokovia slipped back through. “It feels like months since I’ve seen you.”
“It has been months.” you pointed out, cleaning a stray line near her ribs with your thumb. She had arrived in Paris that morning, and you were only now starting to feel yourself relax into her presence, sure she wasn’t going to disappear again. “It was two months on Saturday.”
“You’ve been counting?”
You shrugged a shoulder, pointedly focusing on your work and avoiding her eye. The two of you had bonded after the battle with Ultron; more than once she had found you somewhere in the compound or on the grounds, set up with your easel and a fresh canvas. She’d bring a book or watch the television on mute, and the two of you would spend hours in comfortable silence together as you painted. It had slowly transformed as time had passed, until you’d surprised you both by kissing her goodnight after dinner one night.
You’d found yourselves on opposite sides of the Accords, and you’d honestly felt lost with her gone. But she’d found a way to contact you a few months after their jailbreak from the Raft, and you’d been stealing moments like this ever since.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” Wanda’s relaxed smile widened, and she exhaled a contended sigh. “Why exactly are we doing this, by the way?”
You smirked, following the curve of her shoulder blade with your brush. “You’re only asking this now?”
She hummed in amusement, careful not to jostle you with an actual laugh. “It’s the latest in a long line of assignments my professor has given me. We’re supposed to ‘reimagine the works of the masters’… present them in a new medium. So, I’m attempting my own version of Van Gogh’s Almond Blossoms.”
“And I’m the new medium?”
“Exactly.”
“And… how exactly do you plan on handing me in?”
You smiled, carefully styling a flower onto her skin. “I’ll take photos. No face, no identifying features. And with your new hair, no one will know but us that I’ve been spending time with an international fugitive.”
“No one?” she repeated, tracing circles on the pillow in front of her with her finger. “How did you explain your time away to the others?”
“I didn’t really,” you said with a shrug. “With everyone gone, there’s not really very many of us still hanging around the compound. I thought about moving out but, I don’t know, I’d feel bad leaving Vision all by himself.”
Wanda sighed softly, and you glanced up from your work. She traced a heart absentmindedly onto the pillow. “Why are you always the last one on your mind?”
You offered her a small, self-deprecating smile and leaned down to brush a kiss to her temple. “Because I’m not that interesting.”
***
It honestly amazed you sometimes that someone with as much raw power burning inside them as Wanda did could be so still and so patient. She lay there until the paint had dried, content to watch you move about the apartment as you cleaned you collected your paints and cleaned your brushes in the kitchen sink. You found yourself warming whenever you felt her eyes on you, and stole glances of your own as you busied yourself.
In repose, she was a different kind of masterpiece all together, the curve of her back and the long, elegant line of her legs like something out of a renaissance painting. The idea that she was half-naked in your bed, even covered in paint and tired and worn from a life on the run… sometimes it felt impossible to believe all this was real.
You smiled softly as you checked the paint, holding your hand out to her. “It’s dry. Ready for your photoshoot, Miss Maximoff?”
She took your hand, unabashed by her nudity as she stood. You led her to face the wall, the cool white paint a simple backdrop. You carefully arranged her hair over her shoulder as she sat cross-legged in front of it, a couple of tendrils dangling over the corner of your painting, the fiery color a lovely contrast to the white and blue of your artwork.
She gave you another sweet smile over her shoulder as you straightened, and you stepped back and collected your camera. You snapped a few focusing on the details of your work, and more that captured her as well.
“So?” Wanda said, her head turning slightly. You took another photo. “Can I see?”
“If you like.” You moved to the dining table where your laptop was set up, plugging your camera in to upload your photos. Wanda stood and joined you, one arm wrapped loosely around her bare chest as she moved to look over your shoulder. Her hair fell like a curtain between the two of you, and she tucked it behind her ear as you clicked through the pictures for her.
The last was easily your favorite, taken while she was talking. Her face was turned ever so slightly towards the camera, the delicate line of her nose and the high curve of her cheekbone peeking out from behind her hair.
“What d’you think?”
Wanda took the camera out of your hands gently, setting it carefully on the table as you turned to face her. She touched a delicate hand to your cheek, meeting your eye before leaning in to press her lips to yours.
The kiss was soft and sweet, her fingers slipping into the hair behind your ear as it lingered. Her other hand left her chest to touch your hip, and your own hands took a gentle hold of her bare waist. You felt her shiver as you tugged her closer. You could feel the smile in her kiss, and her body curved against yours as you parted your lips and her tongue slid languidly against your own.
You felt her hand trail down the side of your neck and over your chest, her other hand leaving your hip as she fumbled with the buttons running down the front of your dress. She hummed a quiet, reedy moan against your mouth as your fingertips brushed over the side of her breast, her lips only leaving yours long enough to breathe.
Your dress fell open as she undid the final button, hanging loosely around your frame and baring your body to her. Wanda ran her hands over your waist and down to your hips, her fingertips slipping underneath the waistband of your underwear. You palmed her breast, her nipple hardening under your hand as you broke away from her lips to kiss her neck. You shuddered as she whispered in your ear, her breath warm and tickling against your skin.
“I’ve missed you, цопил.”
You kissed her again, tucking hair behind her ear. You rested your forehead against hers as you parted, your eyes closed. You exhaled a shaky breath, an almost giddy smile on your lips. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
Wanda bumped her nose against yours affectionately, one side of her lips twitching upwards in a playful smirk as she pulled away to meet your eye. “Show me.”
Your smile widened, and you took hold of her hips, turning to press her back against the edge of the table. You leaned past her to push your laptop and camera aside before unfastening her jeans, and she let them slide down her legs to the floor before moving to sit on the edge of the table. She parted her legs and you stepped between them, pulling her into another lingering kiss.
Taking hold of her waist, you trailed the fingers of your other hand up from her knee, mapping out the flesh of her thigh at a glacial pace. Wanda sighed into your mouth as you teased the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, fingers tangling in your hair.
Her breath hitched as your fingers finally found her sex, and you smiled at her reaction, peppering kisses over her cheek and jaw as you teased her slowly through the thin lace of her underwear. She gasped as your teeth grazed a spot beneath her ear, and you lathed your tongue over her skin, smirking as she whimpered.
You continued down her body, your lips lingering at the curve of her collarbone before following the line of her sternum down her chest. You pushed her underwear to the side just as you closed your mouth around her nipple, and Wanda moaned aloud, arching into your touch as your fingers slid over her clit.
The sound of it thrilled you, the way her voice turned throaty and low whenever she felt those first pangs of stimulation. You rolled your fingers over her clit, your tongue circling her nipple at the same pace. You nipped at the soft flesh of her breast before continuing down, Wanda’s hands tightening briefly in your hair as you paused to suck a mark into the top of her thigh.
She lifted her hips long enough for you to slide her underwear away as you fell to your knees between hers, and you tugged her to the very edge of the table, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to the inside of her thigh. She ran her fingers through your hair, leaning back on one hand as you held her gaze, her head falling back with a moan as you slid your tongue against her sex.
You watched her as you worked her undone, her body stretched out above you. The supple curve of her breasts rose and fell with uneven breath as you slid a finger inside her, the line of her hips and the way the light above her caught in her hair. Wanda reacted to every move you made, and you smiled against her cunt as she released your hair to squeeze her breast instead, fingers tugging at her nipple.
You pumped another finger into her, looking up as you heard a click. Wanda smirked down at you, your camera in hand. “You just look so pretty like this, îнгер.” You pulled away from her sex to bite playfully at her inner thigh, still fucking her steadily with your hand, and she giggled, snapping another photo. “Consider it extra credit.”
You breathed a laugh, and Wanda groaned as you returned to her clit, her hips bucking against your mouth. “Oh, Думнезеу…” she cursed breathily, her fingers curling in your hair again. They tightened almost painfully as she came, her body curving forward over you and her thighs squeezing around your head. “Fuck…”
You didn’t stop until her thighs released their grip on you, and you stood, grinning as she pulled you eagerly into another kiss. Her thighs twitched under your touch as you smoothed your hands up over them, and you snickered against her lips as she caught hold of them. She pushed your dress off your shoulders, letting it fall away to pool at your feet. She unclipped your bra, cupping your breast in her hand and brushing her thumb over your nipple as she leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of your throat. “Get on the bed, darling.”
Her tone made you shiver – or maybe it was the sharp pinch she gave your nipple – and you smirked, brushing hair away from her face. “That paint can’t be comfortable…”
“It can wait.” she assured you, standing. Her body pressed against yours, and she kissed you again, her teeth catching your bottom lip. “You, on the other hand… making you wait would be a sin. On the bed.”
***
“Oh, fuck, Wanda…”
You clutched at the sheets with one hand, eyes rolling back. She was straddling your thigh, grinding against you languidly as she pumped two fingers slowly inside you, her thumb drawing slow circles over your clit. You grasped at her thigh as a second orgasm washed over you, your hips rising off the bed as you came. Wanda moaned at the pressure against her clit as your thigh tensed, and she leaned down to brush a gentle kiss to your lips. You felt her hips stutter as she came, and she slid her fingers out of you slowly, focusing her attention on your clit.
“God, I’m gonna—” you broke off with a whine, bucking against her hand.
“You’re such a pretty little thing, иубиреа меа.” she murmured, pushing her hair back as she straightened again. You fumbled for the camera laying on the mattress beside you, capturing a photo of her just as her hair tumbled back, the afternoon sun highlighting the curves of her body as her back arched. She quickened her hand against your clit, climbing off your thigh and crawling up your body. You felt her lips against your jaw as your eyes squeezed closed, your hips rolling disjointedly into her touch as you felt yourself begin to break apart. “So pretty when you come…”
“Fuck—” you clutched at her hand as you came, your head arching back against the sheets. Wanda kissed your throat, capturing your lips again as you relaxed. You shuddered as she settled against you, her leg thrown over yours and her chest brushing against your own.
“You even make cursing sound pretty,” she teased, and you chuckled breathlessly, carefully arranging her hair out of her face with the back of your fingers.
“Don’t ever go away that long again.”
Wanda smiled, kissing you softly. Even after everything you’d just done, it was warm and wanting, the thread of desire burning beneath the gentle feel of her lips against yours. When she spoke, it was a whisper against your lips, her fingertips tracing along your collarbone.
“Not ever.”