Chapter Text
• 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗌 |
𝖺𝖽𝗃. 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉; 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗋𝗈𝗐, 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖻𝗒 𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾𝗌
──── ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────
Getting away was your idea. Wanda shied away from the thought at first, knowing her mother in law would have a fit if she went away without Vis. Who would take care of her precious boy, especially after he’d been accosted so suddenly by a vagrant in the park? She was insufferable before, but there was no quelling her fears now. She needed to know where he was at every moment in time, but still she only cared about Wanda’s whereabouts in relation to him. If ever she wasn’t with him, Mrs. Maximoff wanted to know why and for how long; she couldn’t stay away for longer than an hour at most lately and it drained Wanda more each passing day.
The only comfort the older woman provided was whenever his mother was around, Vis kept his temper to scathing remarks and hateful glares; the things he knew she’d look over because her son could do no wrong. It was time alone Wanda dreaded most; the fleeting moments Mrs. Maximoff went to a different room, Vis always managed to grab Wanda, blunt nails digging into her delicate skin so often she’d given up counting what new ones marred her arms. He’d shove her away as soon as she came back, playing some sick game of power with her. The push away was a mercy, a reminder of how “gracious” he was being in showing restraint.
After a week of feeling hopeless, watching Wanda run to you in any moment she found, you finally thought of a solution. It was hard to see her cautious smiles, to feel her instinctively flinch until she recognized your touch. It was exponentially harder on Wanda herself.
“Wanda, let me walk you home. It’s late.” As much as the younger woman loved the idea, knowing it meant more time on your arm, she couldn’t allow it. Vis would go livid and there was no telling how he’d react while he was still nursing his black eye for sympathy with everyone who’d listen. Her temporary comfort wasn’t worth a night of screaming anger.
“You can’t, I’m sorry-” You saw the fear in her eyes, tears welling at the mere idea of walking home to the house she paid for, the building that had become nothing more than her personal chamber of torment. If you could hold her in a safe bubble for the rest of your days, you would. This plan wasn’t permanent, but it bought the both of you time to think for the moment. You’d made the arrangements unbeknownst to Wanda, wanting to have the freedom to leave as soon as you could convince her to come along. She just needed to trust you enough to follow along.
You cupped her cheek gently, bringing her head closer until you could kiss her hairline. Typically she wore her hair back during the day, letting you take it down for her in the nights she’d snuck to your apartment for sanctuary. It was tiny things like that fueled your desire to make this work, the need to have her in your care day and night, shower her with the softness she needed to wake up with a smile. “I’m taking you home, Wanda, but I won’t leave you. I promise.”
Making promises was dangerous, especially ones you didn’t know if you could keep. In your head it was a simple in and out assuming no one was home. Just a few suitcases and a note with a perfectly scrawled medical explanation. Easy. If it worked how you planned.
You weren’t new to lying, but something about lying to her made your skin crawl. Whether Wanda fully believed your promise or not, you didn’t know, but when she nodded solemnly, took the hand on her face and brought the palm to her lips, you were sure she’d at least give your idea a chance.
She walked as slow as she could to her house; truly you had to shuffle her along for the most part, whispering encouragement whenever she started to come to a complete stop. There were only so many train departures at this time of evening and you’d never rush her, but the sooner you got her out of town, the better for the both of you. As you approached the door, Wanda took a deep, practiced breath, part of her coping rituals— one last full breath before whatever hell awaited her beyond the threshold.
──── ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────
“Where do you think you’re going?”
You could practically hear Wanda’s spine shoot up straight. It would’ve been too much of a blessing to finish the last of her packing without encountering him. Vermin always had an unruly habit of showing themselves whenever they were least wanted.
The tentative plan to pack and leave a note was clearly out the window now. You’d been hoping to spare Wanda of any further confrontation with Vis and you’d failed; what got you most was the deep apprehension that now held Wanda hostage. If you’d thought better, you’d have thought up something that didn’t require Wanda to come back here. You weren’t afraid of him, but Wanda was, now more than ever.
“I’m… We’re-” She couldn’t explain well, even if she wanted to. It dawned on Wanda in that moment she had no idea what she was doing. You’d asked her to trust you and she did, no questions asked. Wanda doubted asking Vis to trust her on this would go over well.
Thankfully you spoke up first, clearly blocking the path Vis would have to Wanda. Seeing him was a bad enough misstep on your part, no one needed to get hurt over it. “Mrs. Maximoff isn’t doing well. I consulted a physician and we agreed the city air might be too much for her right now. Time away should help her condition.”
Time away sounded too much like leaving to him, especially as Wanda stayed silent, offering no further information about this sudden need for a getaway. “And when was my dear wife going to inform me of this little trip? I should be accompanying her.”
“I’m telling you now.” Vis bristled just so, your unwavering eye contact unnerving him. You were a constant interference— if he could just make Wanda talk to him instead of you acting as her keeper. He found no such luck as you continued to speak. “Your work is important, I’m sure. Taking so much time off can’t be good for business. It’s best for her to get away from any possible stressors for the best outcome.”
The tall man broke eye contact first, gaze flitting to where Wanda stepped closer to you. He used to go to him, even when she was scared, but then again, he couldn’t think of a time where she’d had anyone else to turn to. As soon as she did, Wanda proved to be even more trouble, challenging and rejecting him at every turn. Somehow, right under his nose, you’d replaced him and he hated you for it.
“This sounds like a conversation Wanda can tell her partner which you are not,” Vis watched as Wanda’s hand gripped your sleeve, his lip curling in disgust. He didn’t know what exactly you were to her, but it certainly wasn’t just her apothecarist. All of this, whatever Wanda turned into, it was your fault. She used to be a demure young lady, quiet and agreeable; before your influence, Wanda would never have thought to act out as she was. Sometimes Wanda was a problem, but you’d made her an obstacle. Vis despised obstacles. “If this is true, she can tell me herself.”
Vis got closer despite your shielding; his overly strong cologne nearly made you gag. “You’ll be just fine here, with me, won’t you? You’ve just gotten a little prone to overreacting lately; I think we can get rid of the real stressor.” The last part was directed straight to you, Vis giving you a look so threatening, he clearly intended to force you to back down.
Unfortunately for him, you weren’t the least bit intimidated by rats disguised as men.
Wanda watched from right behind you two, yet again the subject of another standoff between you both. Guilt made her want to crawl into a hole and die; this was all because of her and the trouble she’d caused. You’d been on your way to something like friends before she’d met you, now you were at each other’s throats. In her mind, it was her own unhappiness that’d festered and poisoned you and her husband. She could just be quiet, let you go and make do with her life. Being ungrateful only hurt everyone around her—
But then you turned to look at her, eyes kinder than she’d ever seen them, and those thoughts flew away. “Go ahead, Wanda, be honest. No one is going to hurt you.”
You’d dared to take your eyes off of the clear and present threat that was her husband, more so encouraging her to speak her mind even when she was being prompted to say something different. Until now, Wanda went through with your plan, packing and trusting you weren’t sending her to some awful place, but now you were asking, giving her a chance to decide for herself. You wanted to know what she needed.
The most she could think of needing was you.
“I’d like to go.” Wanda didn’t know where you’d arranged to go, but even a brothel was better than this. “The city is so loud and filled with smog, it constantly leaves me sick.” None of it was a lie. Those things did bother her health terribly, but even the thickest factory exhaust compared to the suffocation her husband and his mother trapped her under.
Vis faltered for a second, shocked that Wanda would still dare to go against him. In front of you. Again. “Wanda-”
You had to acknowledge his persistence, irritating as it was, “She told you. She did as you asked, now let her go.”
The man shook his head, raising his nose so high in the air you wondered if he was going to point to something. “She can express her thoughts all she likes, none of that negates fact. Wanda is my wife and I need her here.” There it was. The undeniable snag in any plan you conjured up. As much as Vis mistreated her, as much as Wanda hated it, she was his in both law and society. One day, you’d find a way.
For now you had to make do with the threat of force. One he knew all too well you’d follow through with. “And who’s going to stop her, you? Against me?”
Vis reached out for Wanda, but you were faster, grabbing his wrist before he could even try to get closer. “I think you’re smarter than that, sir.”
He hated how much you could shake him, could swear the linger bits of bruising around his eye pulsed under your scrutiny. “I don’t know what you want or how you think this could end well for you, either of you,” Stubborn frustration had him glaring at Wanda. It was the most he could do with his arm still in your vice grip, but still his wife shrunk behind you. “But I promise you, it will not last. I won’t have it.”
“Funny that, I was about to promise you the same. If you lay a hand on your wife again, I’ll take them from you.” You released him when Vis pulled away, happy to let him stomp off and even more happy to see the quick flash of fear in his eyes. Good.
The slammed front door ensured Wanda was yet again alone with you and, while you expected her to resume her packing, she slumped against you, burying her face between your shoulder blades and hugging you from behind. You froze just as you were, stock still as if any small movement may frighten her away. “I can stay. I don’t want to cause you more trouble than I’m worth.”
It killed you to hear her talk about herself like that; it wasn’t fair for Wanda to internalize this all how she did while Vis walked around as if he alone gave her the world. “Don’t say that. The trouble is all with him, a clever girl like you knows that. I know you do.”
You managed to turn around, gripping her so tight, Wanda squeaked. Even just the embrace made this trip worth it, a sweet hold to remind her she’d chosen to go with the right person. “I believe you’ve caused me trouble more than once. I’m only checking to assure you haven’t tired of me.”
“Even if I did, I’d doubt you’d go without a fight. Much too thickheaded.” It was hard to let go, only a glance to the wall clock drove you to gently pry her away. “Finish your packing or we’ll miss our train.”
──── ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────
The train ride proved to be a much needed peaceful one, the two of you settling into a silence as you relaxed for the journey. You were glad you’d arranged for a room to yourselves for the long trek; the privacy allowed you both time to decompress and think.
You’d been reading a book you’d neglected on your shelf for too long when you caught Wanda staring out the window, the midday light streaming down on her wistful face. With only a singular glance, anyone could’ve written it off as her usual daydreaming, but you, perhaps caught up in the sight of her, spied how she fidgeted with her hands in her lap and pressed her forehead a little too hard on the glass and knew she’d fallen into her brain again.
“If you stare too hard, the trees will think you don’t like them,” you joked, startling her out of her thoughts. Wanda jumped, just a bit of a shock through her spine as she bristled, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at her adorable shiver.
Wanda huffed, straightening her back, “I’m only staring because I like them. Is that the same reason you’ve been looking at me so long? Or is there something on my face?” It was your turn to be flustered at being caught. You’d still deny how deep your feelings for the woman had grown, but that didn’t stop Wanda from teasing you just to prove a point. The whole thing was a sore subject, something she’d not brought up since the night you’d brought her home, bathed and held her the entire night through. That day and every one since, you’d shown love towards her, but never said anything. She didn’t know what held you back still, but she was determined to find out and rectify it.
Hopefully this trip did more good than harm. If it was just the two of you, Wanda was sure she could crack you. All she wanted was to talk about it, to have a conversation not rushed with time or interrupted. She figured you give her the chance; you were your most open in private and even if she still had to draw things out of you, at least your patience was full.
The problem, however, was with the plans you’d put together. The country getaway you’d arranged was just that, but it wasn’t your home where she’d be staying. Instead, it was with your closest friend -a “special kind of friend” as you’d told her initially- and that’s what gave her pause. Wanda had heard you talk about Natasha before, your childhood friend and arguably closest confidant. All with the habit of falling in bed together “whenever the mood strikes,” you’d explained.
Wanda understood and if Natasha did this with anyone else, she wouldn’t have given it another thought. But it was you and that made it her business. She wanted you all to herself, couldn’t ask it of you when she still went home and lived as a married woman, but that reasoning did nothing to quell her desires.
“I was worried about you. You looked concerned and I know that means something is on your mind… Care to share?” Wanda thought on it, wondering whether to bring up her worries or if you’d brush her off as insecure. She wanted to continue to trust you and so, delicately, she shared.
After a few nervous shifts in her seat across from you, Wanda finally spoke up. “It’s nothing big, truly I’m just being worrisome— what am I supposed to do while we’re away?” At first you were sure she was joking, but her serious face proved otherwise. Wanda had gone on holiday before, that couldn’t have been what she was asking about. No, it only took you a moment to catch on to her troubles. Her eyes shifted to the letter you used to mark off your book pages; the last one you’d gotten from Natasha before you left. Ah, of course.
Wanda wasn’t necessarily skittish, but after a lifetime of being blindsided and disadvantaged, you understood her need to know what exactly she was walking into. All of this, from Natasha to how you interacted with her, how she was supposed to interact with her and even the simple question of where you’d stay, was uncharted territory and it made her devastatingly nervous.
“Natasha is only one woman, Wanda. She can’t make you do anything; even if she tried I wouldn’t let her.” It had been easy enough to explain your relationship with Natasha to Wanda; she’d been your friend since you were kids and as you grew, the two of you learned and explored each other together, but you’d never exactly been a pair. The redhead wasn’t one for strict commitment, preferring to be different things to different people and you couldn’t fault her for it. You worked best as friends— with the added benefit of occasional, no strings attached sex. In understanding the nature of your friendship with Natasha, Wanda felt all the more insecure about her own relationship with you.
In the short hours since she’d been let in on your plan, one question played on repeat in her brain: Did you see her as casually as you did Natasha?
The more she mulled, the more Wanda spiraled, dreading what you thought of her and if she’d only have your help as long as she entertained you. One day, you were sure to grow bored and what would become of her then?
“We’re getting away for you first and foremost, you can exist how you please.” You’d said it to comfort her, but it didn’t ease her worries, not really, and you could easily tell. Wanda was used to being left to her own devices; that wasn’t what she was asking about. “That’s not all though, is it? Out with it, you’re fidgeting like a toddler.”
The callout made Wanda whine; she wished you wouldn’t try to get stuff out of her so gruffly. Sometimes Wanda liked keeping her thoughts to herself to avoid conflict; this was quickly becoming one of those circumstances. The longer she thought about how this conversation was sure to play out, the more she felt like the toddler you’d accused her of being. “Well what if… what if I seem boring to her? To both of you?”
Wanda didn’t have many friends, none at all at this stage in her life, especially the type of friend Natasha was to you. She barely knew how to navigate being around you and now there was you as well as someone you had so much history with. Wanda knew without saying how much Natasha meant to you and that alone was deeply intimidating— the young woman would be more at ease if she knew what she meant to you as well. The idea that you liked another woman better than her, whether they were supposedly strictly casual or not, unsettled Wanda’s heart.
What she lacked the courage to say just yet was written plain as day over her face; you could read her like your favorite book by now.
“Oh, I see.” You paused for a moment, straining to hear any random passersby. When you heard none, you outstretched your arms. “Come here, quickly while we might have a bit of time.” Wanda obeyed, nervously moving forward until she could sit on your lap; it was awkward with the bulk of her dress skirts bunched between you two, but somehow she managed. They looked a bit too close for anyone who might peek in on them, but the train was in for the long stretch and people walking were rare; Wanda wished that was enough to shake her apprehension. Instead she focused on the quick peck you placed on the tip of her nose, trying anything to relax the tension she’d built up. “Now, is someone jealous?”
Wanda was rolling her eyes the instant you opened your mouth. “This isn’t jealousy, I’m scared.” She was blunt with it, pouting at you in such a way you were sure she’d have stamped her foot if she could. Cute, really.
“Scared of what? That you might not get as much attention with Nat around? I can assure you that’s not the case.” Wanda wanted to protest, try to explain her insecurities further, but you’d found a way to reach her neck and the kisses you gave were so delicately persuasive, she’d hate to ruin the moment. If that’s what kept you interested, she’d let you have it.
It was much nicer than her concerns anyways, especially when your hands were already trapped under her dress and working their way up her thighs. If you could successfully keep her mind occupied this way, so be it.
“You might still like her better than you do me-” Wanda was cut off then, your fingers finding her bare sex, cupping her so possessively she could only squeak. Sweet as your touch was, you still weren’t looking at her and it was frustrating beyond belief. Wanda yearned for your adoring gaze more than air. “Look at me.”
The demanding tone caught you by surprise, fully expecting a whiny plea after her submissive noise a second ago. You pulled away from the crook of her neck to see what’d brought this on, instantly missing her floral perfume. Wanda had never been so insistent about someone else before, but the more you thought on it, the more you realized this was the first time she’d have the opportunity to meet a true friend of yours. You hadn’t worried about what Wanda would think about your partners or acquaintances, but now, with the hesitant look in her eye, maybe you should’ve. “Natasha is my friend, end of story.”
Wanda searched your face for any sign of a lie, having become an expert at reading what you meant behind what you said. She’d learned of your silver tongue early on; that didn’t mean she was immune to it, especially when you refused to keep your hands off of her. Your thumb dulled her typically sharp skills, having found her sensitive bundle of nerves and rolling it in slow, torturous circles. If this weren’t a public place, she’d yell at you for trying to distract her, but she couldn’t risk the attention. “She’s a special friend…”
You had to agree with that; Natasha was special and you’d told her as much. That word though, you wished you’d picked something different. Wanda hung on to your every word when she was like this, deconstructing and overanalyzing each statement like a lawyer picking apart their opponent’s case. If you were less of a coward, you’d tell her that both she and your friend were special to you; maybe then she’d sit still while you played with her.
“Yes, but as far as I know, unlike you, she wears underwear on train rides.” The easy access was too tempting; you’d initially just sought the closeness from her, but impulsive hands went wandering and found something you were too weak to resist. Now you were near drooling over the thought of fucking her right here in this train car, leaving your mark on her where anyone could come and see.
“Why wear something you’re always so eager to get out of the way?” Wanda grinned, granting you the tiniest kiss on your cheek to avoid staining your skin with her lipstick no matter how badly she wanted to. Her impulsive act right before she left paid off; a singular pair of underwear left in her powder room back at home was a small victory. Her reward, your nails digging into her inner thighs, fighting for just one more ounce of restraint while you remembered where you were. She liked it best this way, she was sure of that.
Wanda believed you for now at least, how could she not? You’d been honest about who and what Natasha was to you and you’d gone out of your way to assure her she wouldn’t be put into a compromising position… She had gone this far with you, the only option was to continue forward. “I didn’t get rid of them for you not to touch me…”
You took her word for the invitation it was, setting your fingers to work even when you weren’t able to see her. Later though, you were bound to make up for the sight you had to miss out on now.
The both of you were silent, save for the noises Wanda couldn’t hold back. Admittedly, you were distracting her as quick as you could— if she kept on, who knows what kinds of questioning you’d be subjected to? Things you didn’t want to answer right now, surely. You had to come to terms with your shortsightedness before Wanda caught on; all you’d thought was to get away and in the past, Natasha was always where you went. Now with another person you were somehow involved with, there was someone you had to look after. You’d given no thought to how Wanda would truly react seeing you with her. Natasha didn’t mind; your letters back and forth assured that she was more than eager to meet the girl you somehow always wormed into your passages to her, but Wanda was used to having you all to herself.
You couldn’t promise that nor did you know if you wanted to. Wanda had every right to be a little selfish in her dealings, but you had the same to be so with your heart. Unfortunately for Wanda, you’d been doing anything but deciding if you were ready to give her what she required of you.
“Just for the record, Natasha would never let me have my way with her on a train. She’s mischievous, but not in this way..” Wanda nearly cried when you pulled away, but her brain was still too loud to deny herself this right now. With a hurried shuffle, she was fully sat on your lap, hips rocking methodically atop your thigh. Her hands gripped the back of the seat for purchase as she shamelessly took her pleasure and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the most erotic sights you’d ever seen. Clothed as Wanda was, you could picture her without them, fully exposed as she rode your leg to her heart’s content, and your head fell to her chest to muffle your own whine. “In fact, I think you may be a match for her risk taking.”
Wanda’s confidence rose instantly, the knowledge that she could at least reach your elusive friend in one area spurring her on. “And what about how I make you feel? Do you watch her as intently, with that near obsessive look in your eye?” It was true; every moment you could manage, your eyes were on Wanda. The word you’d thought of earlier came to mind again— you really were weak for the woman above you. Fully, truly, and wholeheartedly in a way you’d never been for Natasha or anyone else in your life before. If you weren’t careful, she’d make you admit it. A premature confession would only hurt more to hear if you weren’t ready to act.
“Stop talking about her, worry about yourself.” And so she did, shifting and rutting as her eyes shut. The confines of the train cabin melted into the wide, open room she so often imagined the two of you sharing. Wanda pictured a place where neither of you could be bothered; your attention focused solely on her— not her husband, not any other girls, only her. The clothed leg she moved against was still yours, but free of fabric, the slickness of her arousal providing a much smoother ride than she currently fought with. When her dream would become reality Wanda didn’t know, but she dared to hope it was sooner rather than later for her own carnal whims, if nothing else.
An ambitious hand left the seat to trail down the length of your arm, grabbing right above where it disappeared under her skirts, trying unsuccessfully to bring your hand back. There was no chance of it working, not when you were refusing to leave your perch on her lower belly, stubbornly remaining immovable. “I want your fingers, right now. Make me forget anyone else.”
The most she got was your thumb, pressing right above where she needed you; the stalling was almost enough to make her beg. Almost. Wanda didn’t know much, but she’d learned how to work you into her way. It rarely took a lot, especially when you were in a good mood. “Otherwise I’ll be bored… You know how dreadful I can be when I’m left with nothing to pass the time.”
It was the need to keep her this close, breathing the same sweet air, that made up your mind. From the first minute Wanda had been inches from your face, you’d yearned to keep her in your arms every second since. You lifted her just enough to slide your fingers against her sex once more, grinning as she shuddered with two fingers filling her instantly. “You asked for it, now work for it.” She never mentioned she wanted you to make your cooperation easy, “Entertain yourself.”
Fine. If you were going to be stubborn, she’d make you regret it. Wanda started moving on her own now, sinking down as far as the seat would let her. “I think you just want to watch me; you like being entertained just as much.” She wound her arms about your neck now, letting her head rest where she could speak directly into your ear. You never asked her to be easy on you either. “You’re not very subtle.”
Your arm went tight around Wanda’s midsection, securing her in your lap when she found her rhythm. Focus was hard as she dragged her tongue over the side of your throat, an obscene act for the semi-public setting that left you shivering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Wanda laughed at your denial, brushing the tip of her nose along the shell of your ear. As much time as she spent in her own head, at least she kept her thoughts inside. Yours were written all over your face, plain as day, and Wanda wished she could hold a mirror up to prove her point. “When you think I’m not looking, you stare as if you think I’ll disappear. Are you scared I’ll fly away if you don’t keep an eye on me?”
“You can go wherever you please.” Her tone was too smug not to annoy you— so what if your eyes lingered while Wanda read at night? Or when she walked across the room after her bath, sitting at her vanity to tie her hair back carefully even when she was so tired she looked like she’d fall asleep in her chair? Wanda Maximoff was beautiful, that was a fact. There was no chance of you being the only one who looked her way, why’d she care so much about what you did? “So what if I look, you love attention. What’s your point?”
It took Wanda a while to respond, losing track of the conversation as your fingers curled perfectly. She didn’t bother hiding any sounds, choosing instead to moan directly in your ear whenever she felt so inclined. With each one, your grip on her tightened, using her as an anchor lest you abandon all self-control and flip her over onto the long seat below you both. But Wanda loved pushing you like this; any time she could squeeze raw emotion out of you, she would. You worked so hard to stay distant seemingly from everyone, she wanted to be the exception. If you got to see all of her, she would demand the same of you.
“You look at me as if I’m… something… I’m curious, do you see?” One particularly nice push had her clenching around your fingers; your nails dug into her side and she vaguely registered your thighs twitching against hers. She’d give anything to know what that meant for you, if she had even a fraction of the influence on you as you exercised over her. “Is it some pathetic little girl, do you watch out of pity? Am I just pretty to look at? Or maybe, and I don’t think you’d ever admit this, you love me-”
Wanda was rambling now, speaking whatever came to mind without a filter, her focus derailed to the growing tension in her belly. You’d caved in and helped, pistoning your hand between her legs in hopes she’d give up this particular train of thought. Wanda didn’t know what she was asking for, going down this road. Nothing good could come from either of you thinking too much about feelings, not when there were still so many obstacles; thankfully you were good at avoiding. “How do you want me to see you?”
“I’d like to feel special.” It was a terribly vulnerable admission, maybe one Wanda wouldn’t have made were she not grinding desperately down on your hand. You had to expect the question anyways; if you didn’t, you truly weren’t paying attention. “I want you to talk about me like you do her…”
“Trust me, Wanda, you are truly special.” She came apart immaculately, gorgeous even as she jerked and twisted in the now stuffy train car. Your thoughts drifted to the first time you’d had her, how almost scared she looked with her orgasm ringing in her ears. Now she embraced it, even mumbling how good she felt as she tugged her earlobe between her teeth. If only Wanda could feel how ruined your underwear surely were now; the urge to force the delicate fingers currently playing with the hair at the nape of your neck down your pants, keeping her still until you found your own release with them, had never been so strong.
“Don’t compare yourself to others, least of all my friends.” Wanda was in a league of her own, the type of girl that came with the amount of trouble you only heard of in gossip circles. You’d sworn you’d never get involved with someone like that, certainly not discover feelings for them… Natasha must’ve been buzzing in her seat, waiting to see you and force you to eat your words for contradicting yourself so intensely. Just her proximity, loose tendrils of her hair tickling your cheek while she shamelessly soaked your pant leg with evidence of her orgasm, tested your resolve. No one had ever been so hard to hide from.
“Who am I to you then? What are we?” Wanda wasn’t sure, but she could’ve sworn she felt you shudder under her, just how she’d done to you more times now than she could count. Yet again she was reminded how uneven this all felt; you, completely in control of your own actions while you worked your hardest to make her lose command of hers. Just once, she wanted to ask about you, if you ever felt attracted to her or if you only did this for the feeling of ownership you got from taking care of her. If you even felt strongly enough to always want to take care of her.
“We are…” A train wasn’t the place to talk about this, not when you were close to town and your thoughts kept drifting to how lovely Wanda’s weight always felt on top of you. Your heart was going to leap out of your chest just to get closer to Wanda’s accelerated heartbeat, pounding on your ribs in a plea for your mouth to say the right thing. To be honest for once, trust her like you expected her to trust you.
You wanted to slap yourself for holding Wanda as close as you did, for daring to skirt your fingers over the delicate skin of the woman you couldn’t say three easy words to. Instead, you chose a different trio, “More than friends.”
Not the ones either of you wanted to hear.
Part of you expected some fight, at least a little bit of pushback, as was typical when she heard an answer she didn’t want to accept. This time, Wanda just nodded and at first you were relieved to see she was no longer grilling you, but when she said nothing else for the rest of the ride, you were sure you hadn’t heard the last of this.