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artemisegeria · 6 years ago

Text

It Should Have Been You

Title: It Should Have Been You

Treat For: @anonthenullifier

Rating: G

Word count: 2365

Summary: Wanda and Vision attend a baseball game after the events of Civil War. When Wanda walks away briefly, Vision gets an unpleasant surprise that leads to a promising revelation.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16242128

Message for Recipient: Thank you so much for beta reading and providing invaluable comments and for everything else you did in organizing the exchange. I hope you enjoy this bit of fluff.

Sorry for the delay in posting. I intended to post it sooner, but I got majorly blocked on it.

Made (belatedly) for the Scarlet Vision Exchange 2018!

The baseball game reached a break in innings. Wanda leaned over to Vision and said, “I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be right back.” He nodded, smiling at her.

She walked down the steps to the concourse. She passed a concession stand and a gift shop, careful to keep her head down when she passed any cameras. As usual there was an impossibly long line for the women’s restroom. She walked a little farther and came to another where there were fewer people.

As Wanda was walking back toward their seats, she caught sight of the jumbotron. There was a giant heart on the screen, and the camera was panning the crowd, looking for a likely couple. She froze when she saw that it landed on Vision and the woman sitting next to him. Wanda hadn’t really noticed her when they sat down, but now that she saw the woman on a big screen, Wanda realized that she did look like a perfect match for Vision. She was tall, blonde, statuesque, and beautiful. Wanda imagined that she might run marathons, and her easy smile spoke of a carefree nature.

Vision, on the other hand, looked panicked when he saw himself on screen. He glanced around for Wanda, but he turned to the stranger when he saw that she was nowhere to be found. The chants of the crowd calling for them to kiss were growing louder and more insistent. The woman could clearly see Vision’s worry as well because she merely kissed him gently on the cheek and turned back to her friends. People in the crowd voiced their disappointment, but their grumbles faded as the camera moved on to its next victims.

Wanda finally worked her way back to her seat. Vision turned to her. He was smiling, but she could see the residue of his earlier fear. The rest of the game passed uneventfully; she pulled him from his seat shortly before it ended to beat the crowds.

Once they reached the outside of the stadium, they hailed a cab. It took them to a corner of the city near where she was meeting the others. Steve was nervous enough about being back in New York less than a year after going on the run, but he was convinced that this mission was absolutely crucial. Though Steve also insisted that he and Natasha had to do it alone, over Sam and Wanda’s protests. They were pulling out within a few more hours, so Wanda decided to take advantage of what little time she had. When she had let Vision know that she would be in the area, he readily agreed to meet her and suggested the game.

As she waited for the order to meet, Wanda pulled Vision into a pizza shop. Keeping hold of his hand, Wanda determined that she would not dwell on her unfounded feelings of jealousy over someone else kissing Vision’s cheek. He deserved to have that. She wanted him to have that. Besides, her rare alone time with Vision was not something she was willing to sacrifice to negativity.

She chewed her pizza slowly, but it had lost its flavor. Outside, people streamed past the shop. Couples were holding hands, and parents were dragging small children along or running after them. Other people were looking down at their phones or listening to music, strolling along with the appearance of having all the time in the world. Wanda wondered if she would ever have the chance to walk through a crowd so carefree again.

When she finished eating, they walked out and headed toward a nearby park to have a little space to themselves. The park was mercifully empty on this early spring day. It felt like a reprieve to be out in nature, wandering aimlessly through the greenery. Wanda still kept her cap pulled low on her forehead. Forcing herself to maintain a light tone, she asked Vision, “So, what did you think of your first baseball game?”

“Truthfully, aside from analyzing the physics and trigonometry necessary to determine the proper angles for throwing and hitting the baseball to obtain the desired results, I found it quite boring.” She noted the frown furrowing the designs laid into his brows. Wanda could feel the shame emanating from him. She did not think that she had ever heard him admit disliking something so candidly. It was heart-warming that Vision was growing comfortable enough with his preferences, or with her, to be honest.

She laughed. “That’s fair. It’s mostly just guys standing around.”

He nodded slightly. “Although I did enjoy spending the day with you.”

“Me too, Vizh.” At the sound of her quiet agreement, his smile grew wider. Unwilling as Wanda was to bring up the subject, an irresistible curiosity overtook her. “And what did you think of your first kiss?” She grinned up at him. “That is, I’m assuming it was your first kiss.” She continued walking down the path, knowing that he would follow her.

***

Vision had the odd sensation of his synthetic stomach flipping over as he hurried after her. The mood had changed since Wanda had returned toward the end of the game. Wanda was still acting amiably enough, but he had grown sufficiently accustomed to human interactions, and to her reactions specifically, to recognize a shift. He could not properly decipher what the change was, but it felt like a blanket of unease had fallen over their earlier cheerfulness.

Perhaps her observation was the source of the shift. “You saw that?” She nodded, just a tad guiltily. “It was my first kiss.” Vision pursed his lips at that new thought. He had never imagined that he would have a first kiss, nonetheless with a stranger. “I was not in favor of it. The woman sitting next to us seemed perfectly nice, but I had no desire to be that intimate with a complete stranger. Moreover, it seems inherently wrong to do so for the sake of appeasing a crowd.” He fancied that he could still feel the kiss on his skin, slightly clammy and cooler than his usual temperature. His flinch must have been visible to the woman because she had merely given him an apologetic smile and turned away.

They came across a bench, and Wanda pulled him down to sit on it. Her smile fell as she considered their joined hands, and her eyes turned sad. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. When Vision considered the magnitude of human suffering in the world, he could not weigh the opportunity to choose his first kiss as significant. “It is a small loss, all things considered.”

“You’re still allowed to be upset about it.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. The camera operators probably would have thought we were together.”

“Would you have wanted them to think that?” Interested as he was to hear her answer, he knew it was ultimately good that she had chosen that time to walk away. It would not do to have Wanda’s image projected across the whole stadium. It was too dangerous to come here as it was; he would never forgive himself if she were discovered because of where they chose to meet.

It was her turn to shrug. “I wouldn’t have minded. Would it have bothered you less if it were me?”

“Significantly less,” though privately he felt that his level of panic would likely have been the same, though tinged with excitement instead of worry. “But I would never want you to kiss me out of a sense of obligation.” Her smile, which Vision assumed was meant to be reassuring, took on an out-of-place note of amusement. It unsettled him just as it intrigued him.

He was disturbed by his now unusual failure to read her intentions, and he wanted only to understand her. His judgment was only hampered by the remnants of his alarm at being projected on a screen in front of the whole stadium. The predicament was wholly unexpected. Vision’s only relief arose from the fact that only Wanda knew of his human disguise.

His usual calm was impossible to maintain when he thought back to that moment, the remembered panic clouding his mind. Moreover, Vision still felt a lingering shame at his admission that he did not enjoy the game. All aspects of humanity were fascinating. If anything, watching the crowd at the game should have been fascinating, from the various attire worn to the way the group’s excitement built on itself to lead to new collective behavior. Though something was still lacking. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts as he had seen his teammates do, although he recognized that it was a fairly illogical gesture.

Vision wished to think ahead and not dwell on this confusing, though enjoyable day. “Do you know when I may be able to visit you next?”

Wanda didn’t answer immediately, instead she looked away. “I think we should stop meeting.”

“Why should we not meet any longer?” His thoughts froze. He did not understand Wanda’s sudden rethinking of their rendezvous. Despite the slight pall over the afternoon, she had given no indication that she had grown tired of seeing him. She had said that she enjoyed spending time with him.

“You’re risking a lot by meeting up with me, Vision. If the UN ever found out, you’d be arrested for violating the Accords.”

“We have been careful, Wanda.” Vision thought of all the effort and secrecy put into his human disguise, the occasional security camera scrubbed, and their scrupulous attention to secure methods of communication.

“Maybe, but it’s still risky. Even more than that, I want you to have a chance at a normal life. With this disguise, you could learn more about humanity close up. You could go on a date, travel, make new friends outside the Avengers.”

“Exploring humanity is what I have been doing with you, Wanda. I cannot thank you enough for your help in teaching me.” Vision continued, willing her to understand, “There is also the fact that none of these people would be likely to accept me in my natural state. You are the only person who has fully accepted me as I am.”

Tears were welling up in Wanda’s eyes, but her smile was genuine. “You’re the best student, Vizh. It’s been my pleasure to help you.” She looked down at the ground. “But meeting up in secret, hiding, not even being able to talk on the phone most times is not normal.” She stood abruptly and pulled her hand from his. His body mirrored hers, although he was unaware of having made the decision to stand. “I’m sorry our meeting had to end this way, but I think it’s for the best. I have to head toward the rendezvous point.” She began to walk away. He had to stop her; they couldn’t leave their interaction like this.

“Wait, Wanda.” She turned to him. Her mouth was still set in a thin line. Her posture was defensive, hunched in on itself. “Are you upset with me?” He approached her slowly, uncertain what to do with his hands. Vision’s hands almost reached out to her of their own accord, but he put them in his pockets instead.

Wanda shook her head. “Not at all, Vizh.”

“Forgive me, but it seems that you are.” She did not typically shy away from expressing disagreement with him, but it was also seldom that he displeased her.

“I’m not upset with you; I’m just worried about us.” Moving a few steps away from him, Wanda folded her arms across herself, still half turned away from him.

Vision regarded her intently. She was more closed off, both mentally and physically, than he had sensed since the days immediately after Novi Grad and Lagos. “You have listed some of your particular concerns, but I do not understand. I do not share them, and you have not mentioned any concerns that you have for yourself.”

“I don’t have any for myself.” Wanda’s denial was forceful and immediate.

Her reply answered every doubt in Vision’s mind. “Then there is no reason to discontinue our meetings.”

She looked like she was prepared to offer more arguments, but the fight left her in a rush of breath. “Are you sure?”

“Most definitely.” Vision spoke not only out loud, but also in her mind. He did not take the restoration of their mental link, just re-established during the course of this visit for the first time since she left the compound with Clint, for granted.

Her grin returned full force, and he was astonished at the strength of it. “Oh, and Vizh?” He nodded for her to continue. “If I had kissed you for the camera back there, trust me, it wouldn’t have been because I felt I had to.” His words and logic and fine motor skills deserted him, leaving him mute and gaping slightly. The alarm on Wanda’s phone suddenly beeped insistently. She removed it from her pocket, glancing down at it worriedly. “I’m sorry. I’m not ready to leave yet, but I really do have to go now.”

He responded automatically, “Of course.” But Vision followed his earlier desire to take her hand. Her smile turned tentative at the edges. “Just one more moment, please.” She looked at him expectantly. He had not planned what he would do or say next, wanting anything to prolong their visit. The answer came to him from the depths of his unexamined wishes.

Vision’s other functions gradually returned to him. He leaned down and hesitantly touched his lips to hers. Wanda’s smile as he pulled away stemmed the tide of apologies that threatened to spill from his lips. “You are the only person I am interested in kissing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time, Vizh.” She raised herself up to kiss his cheek, in the same spot that the stranger had. “I promise we’ll talk soon. Bye for now.”

“Goodbye, Wanda. Take care.” She threw one last smile and wave over her shoulder at him as she hurried away. He watched her leave, a bittersweet smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

#sve2018 #scarletvisionexchange2018 #scarlet vision #wanda x vision #fanfiction

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whynotcallitvanda · 6 years ago

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A Question of Identity

Title: A Question of Identity

For: @concretegrrl

Rating: G

Word Count: 4370

Warnings: None

Summary: While on the run after the events of Civil War, Wanda begins to feel like she’s losing herself. Luckily, she has a wonderful boyfriend who can try to help her feel better. Written for the prompt “I would love a fic that focuses on Vision learning more about Wanda’s Sokovian/Romani heritage, either from Wanda or on his own. Bonus points for fluff!”

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16045862

Message for recipient: Hi, Kait! I loved the prompt, I thought it was so interesting and I really hope I did it justice. It was really fun to write, so thank you! I tried my best to do research, and based the food on Czech cuisine because in one of the movies Sokovia is shown to border the Czech Republic. I hope I get the fluff bonus points, and I hope you like it!

A Question of Identity

Vision tied off the end of Wanda’s braid and passed it over her shoulder to indicate that he was finished with it.

Wanda moved out of her spot between his legs and turned to face him on the bed, curling her feet under her. “Thanks, babe.” She pressed a kiss onto his lips, fingers worrying distractedly at the bleach-damaged ends of her hair.

“You are quite welcome.” Vision smiled at her, but Wanda wasn’t looking at him anymore. Instead she was gazing pensively at one of the hotel room’s four large mirrors. She’d seemed preoccupied ever since she asked him to braid her hair, and at first, he hadn’t been sure, but now he thought he might know what was bothering her.

“Is everything alright, Wanda?” Vision asked, cocking his head to the side and studying her further.

“Yeah, why?” Wanda didn’t turn her head, but she did make eye contact with him in the mirror.

“You continue to seem . . . dissatisfied with your hair,” Vision said carefully.

Wanda snorted, shoving the unnaturally orange braid over her shoulder where she couldn’t play with it. “Nat said I’ll get used to the color.”

“It’s been six months.”

Wanda finally faced him, wearing that small, slightly-annoyed smile that she got whenever he pointed out any of her logical fallacies. “But I wasn’t a redhead for all of that time.”

That was true enough. She cycled between various shades of blonde and red—never anything too dark, nothing too close to her natural brown. He thought they were all beautiful, of course, but Wanda only got more and more frustrated with each new look.

“I miss my hair.” Wanda sighed. She’d gone back to staring at the mirror. “Maybe it’s vain, I don’t know, but I always loved my hair.” She chuckled a little. “When I was a girl, I wanted it to be so long. As long as I could grow it. Long, and dark, and curly, like my mother’s. Hers was beautiful—curlier than mine, and I’m probably remembering it longer than it actually was, but I thought she had more hair than I’d ever seen in my life.”

Vision felt his chest constrict at the thought of just how much she was sharing with him. She’d shared so much over the course of their relationship, but he always selfishly wanted to know more. “And your father? Was his similar?”

Wanda shook her head, blinking, and part of Vision felt guilty for her tears, but another part of him recognized that this was just the way she remembered, with small details and glistening eyes.

“No,” she answered finally. “Well, sort of. His was dark—we all had dark hair—me, my parents, Pietro when he didn’t dye it, even my grandparents from the pictures I remember. But my father’s wasn’t curly like—” her voice broke, signaling to Vision that this was enough, the conversation had gone too far.

He reached out, drew her into his arms, and held her. She cried quietly into his chest. The tears for her parents were usually silent, like these, tamed by years of hiding them from her ever-present twin. The ones for Pietro were wild and forceful and found her in the middle of the night, so strong that she’d wake the next morning more physically exhausted than the night before.

Vision had seen many kinds of Wanda’s tears, and he hated—hated, something he’d once thought himself incapable of—he hated them more than almost anything.

Wanda sniffed and sat up, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. Vision recognized this as well. It was her ‘get ahold of yourself’ face. He kissed her cheek.

She stood, facing the mirror once more, hands crossed over her chest. “I understand why dyeing it is necessary. I can’t look like me because I can’t be me, especially since we’re already taking a risk meeting like we do.” Wanda took a deep breath, waving one hand in a sweeping gesture. “I just miss feeling like myself.”

Vision reached forward and gently grabbed the arm that wasn’t pressed against her stomach. He took her hand, still unused to the feeling of her bare, ringless fingers. “Is there anything I can do to help in that regard?”

Wanda smiled, leaning forward to kiss him. “You’re doing it, Vizh. Being with you is about the only thing that keeps me from completely losing myself.”

Still, as Vision embarked on the long journey back to the United States the next day, he wished there was something more he could do for her.

Vision sat stock still, the way that unnerved most people with its inhumanness. He could’ve gone through the motions of breathing, shifting in his seat, blinking, and glancing around, but he was alone, here in Wanda’s old room, so there wasn’t anyone else to consider.

He usually tried to stay away from Wanda’s bedroom, both because he wished to ensure his connection to her remained as inconspicuous as possible, and because something about it felt oddly invasive. He could still hear the echoes of “Knock, Vizh!” and though he knew he no longer had to worry about walking in on her naked, being alone somewhere so intrinsically tied to Wanda without her knowledge or consent didn’t appeal to his sense of propriety.

Today, however, that essence of Wanda was exactly what he was trying to capture. He’d given a lot of thought to her feelings of losing herself and had come to the conclusion that he had to do something about it.

It was honestly no wonder Wanda was feeling frustrated. On the run like she was, she couldn’t look like herself, she couldn’t sound like herself, she couldn’t dress like herself, she couldn’t be herself. One’s identity is tied to one’s appearance, as Vision himself learned when he set about developing his human disguise.

But this wasn’t about him. It was about Wanda.

The first step, naturally, was to figure out exactly what made Wanda feel like herself. After that, he could attempt to integrate those elements into her fugitive life in a way that wouldn’t put her in danger.

Vision closed his eyes and thought about Wanda. He thought about her smile, her laugh, the many different looks in her eyes. He visualized her fingers dancing through the air, the light of her own scarlet power glinting off her rings. The way she hummed when she was preoccupied, and the slight furrowing of her brow whenever Mr. Stark said something obnoxious.

The way she talked of her home, of the years before the bomb, of her mother teaching her to cook and her father teaching her to dance, of Pietro impish pranks and her grandmother's pet cat.

The flash of scarlet in her eyes when she mentions the Sokovian civil war, or the communists, or the Nazis. How civil unrest stole her grandfather from her long before it took her parents. Living on the streets, stealing to survive, barely feeling any shame for it, and the shame she feels now, years later. The sad fondness that overtakes her whenever Pietro's overprotectiveness would come up, and the fierce anger at any implication that Sokovia wasn't worth the effort, that rebuilding it was a waste, that maybe this would teach that backward nation a lesson.

Wanda loved her country, despite everything, and ultimately, she'd given up everything for it. The struggle to make Sokovia a better place had taken her parents, her home, then her freedom, her humanity, and if that wasn't enough, it took her brother, too.

And she still loved her country, and she still saw it as part of her identity, inseparable from herself.

Vision opened his eyes.

He knew what he needed to do.

Vision walked the streets of Novi Grad, clad in his human disguise, doing his best to blend in. He hadn’t seen Novi Grad before Ultron, so he had no firsthand knowledge of the city as Wanda had known it, however before this trip he did as much researching as he could. He wanted to be able to recognize the differences as Wanda would see them, if she was ever able to come back here.

A part of him felt bad for coming without her. She occasionally spoke about bringing him, to show him a place from her childhood, only to remember that it had probably been destroyed along with everything else. Unfortunately, however, if he wanted to get the information he needed, a trip to Novi Grad was the only way, short of asking Wanda herself, which would of course ruin the surprise.

Vision headed away from the city center. According to his research, the best place to glimpse true Sokovian culture was on the outskirts of the city where the damage had been lighter. After the Ultron crisis, nations from all over the world had banded together to rebuild Sokovia, and so far, things were looking up for its citizens. They even had a budding tourist economy based around the battle with Ultron.

That was all well and good, but Vision wasn’t sure Wanda would appreciate a Tony Stark bobblehead that was likely made in China.

After only twenty minutes of walking, he found himself in a much more residential area. There was a bakery to his right, flanked by a brewery on one side and a pharmacy on the other. People were out and about—not as many as he’d seen in other part of the city, but enough to imply that this was a well-traveled area.

He supposed there was nothing else for it except to attempt to strike up a conversation with someone. That was why he was here, after all, but he was suddenly rather nervous.

He scanned the people he saw, deciding eventually to approach one of the men, aware that a strange, foreign man walking up to a woman on the street usually indicated sinister motives. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten someone.

“Excuse me, sir?” he said in accented Sokovian. He was capable of speaking the language perfectly, but for the part he was playing, he needed to seem like an outsider.

The man looked up, distrust evident in his eyes. It appeared that there really weren’t many visitors in this part of town. “Yes?”

“I was wondering about Sokovian culture,” Vision said as smoothly as he could in his accented voice. “Do you know where I could get that information?”

The man’s eyes widened. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that kind of query. “That’s a broad topic.”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Vision conceded.

“Are you a professor or something?” the man asked, still carefully appraising him.

“No, nothing like that.” Vision shook his head, belatedly realizing that would have been an excellent cover story. “See, my girlfriend is from Novi Grad, she had to move after the incident, and—” he explained the predicament, and exactly what he was trying to accomplish.

“Oh.” The man paused. “Huh. Well, I’d check out the bakery. Katinka, the girl who works there, she can tell you a lot, and if she can’t, then her grandmother will be able to.” He looked Vision up and down a final time. “Just don’t interfere with business, and I’m sure they will help you.”

Vision looked in the direction the man indicated. “Thank you very much, sir. Have a nice day.”

“You too.” The man walked off, shaking his head.

Vision entered the bakery hesitantly. He didn’t want to detract from business, but generally avoided buying or eating food, as a rule. The bakery was currently empty, however, so he didn’t feel quite as bad about taking up the woman’s time.

She was behind the counter, busy wrapping up various pastries and breads. “Can I help you?” she asked, glancing up.

Vision briefly explained his goals once again. The woman put down her parcels of food.

“Wow. That’s so sweet.” She smiled. “I’d be happy to help! My name is Katinka.”

“Victor,” Vision said smoothly, using the alias he’d adopted for visiting Wanda.

“Nice to meet you, Victor.” Katinka leaned in conspiringly. “I’m really not supposed to do this—my grandmother would kill me if she found out—but I can give you our family recipes, if you want.”

Vision nodded so enthusiastically he began to feel dizzy. “That would be wonderful!”

“Okay, well, the first thing you do is—” Katinka stopped. “Oh, do you need to write this down?”

“I will remember,” Vision said confidently.

Katinka looked skeptical, but didn’t argue with him. “All right. The first thing you do is . . .”

Vision did remember Katinka’s instructions. He remembered them in the same vivid detail that he remembered everything else that had ever happened to him. That wouldn’t be of any help to him, however, if the dough continued to be uncooperative.

He should’ve practiced.

After leaving Katinka’s bakery full of confidence and gratitude, he’d managed to track down the other people she’d suggested, her grandmother and uncle. They were all very helpful, and Vision had thought that everything was going wonderfully. The cabbage soup was simmering, he’d successfully fried the topinky bread (though he was concerned about the large amount of garlic Katinka had told him to use), and the schnitzel was far easier than he’d expected after Katinka’s grandmother’s demonstration.

The trouble came, however, when he tried to make the buchty for dessert. The sweet dumpling, as Katinka had explained, was usually filled with a fruit confit, but he hadn’t even gotten started on that yet, because the dough was just not working!

The consistency was all wrong. Perhaps it needed some more flour? Vision turned, grabbing the bag of flour with one hand, but his other hand was covered in sticky bits of dough. He tried to gently shake it off, and when that didn’t work, scraped his fingers on the edge of the bowl. It only occurred to him later that if he’d simply phased his hand and let the dough fall off, he could’ve avoided what happened next.

In his frustration with the dough, he involuntarily squeezed the open bag of flour in his other hand, causing a puff of the white powder to envelop his face. This in turn, surprised him so much that the bag slipped from his fingers and hit the ground, spilling flour all over the floor. Vision stood frozen in the mess, filled with the overwhelming urge to laugh at his misfortune. Before he could decide on the appropriate response, however, he heard the sounds of the front door opening.

Wanda was home.

"Vizh?" Wanda opened the door to her small Edinburgh apartment, trying to push down her budding excitement. "Is that you?" She knew it was him, she could sense his mind from blocks away, but he wasn't supposed to be here for another week.

"Wanda?" Vision's voice came from around the corner, and the slight panic in his mind made her pause in the door. "You're back earlier than—” He appeared in front of her, phasing through part of the wall. He took a deep breath like he was steading himself and smiled at her. "Hello.”

"Hi." Wanda held back a giggle and threw her arms around his neck. "What are you doing here?" she murmured into the fabric of his sweater. She pulled back, her brain finally registering the rest of his attire. "And why are you wearing an apron? Are you cooking?"

"I—well," Vision rubbed the back of his neck. "I was trying to—"

"To cook for me?" Wanda interrupted excitedly, beaming.

Vision nodded, looking down. "Certain things didn't work the way I anticipated, plus you arrived early, so—"

"Can I help?" Wanda interrupted again. "Or not, if you would rather this be one of those things you do for me by yourself."

"Your aid would be much appreciated."

Wanda grinned, throwing her arms around him again. "You're the best, you know that?"

"You’ve yet to see the kitchen," Vision deflected.

"What did you do to the kitchen?" Wanda pushed past him into the other room, grabbing his hand and pulling him with her.

She froze in the door, staring, her mouth falling open.

There was flour all over the place, the floor, the cabinets, the counter, plus a glob of some kind of dough on the wall that Vision had phased through. She figured that the mess was one of the things that Vision hadn't anticipated, but she barely noticed any of it. She was too caught up in what assaulted the rest of her senses.

Vision shifted uncomfortably, misinterpreting her silence. He stepped forward to pick up the bag of flour. "I apologize for the mess. I was—"

"What’s that smell, Vizh?" Wanda's shoulders were tense, and she knew Vision could see it, and she knew she should reassure him that she wasn't upset, but the scent of those spices and the sight of those ingredients were bringing tears to her eyes and the last thing she wanted was for him to think he made her cry when he was such a sweetheart for attempting to do this in the first place.

Vision clearly didn't know what to do, eyes flicking from Wanda to the kitchen and back again. “Uh, well, I made topinky, cabbage soup, and schnitzel. I was attempting buchty, but as you can see, that didn’t go according to plan.”

Wanda whirled around to face him, throwing herself in his arms for the third time. "I love you," she breathed, unable to come up with any other coherent thought. “I love you so much.”

Vision stiffened, arms still around Wanda, but there was no hesitation in his words. "I love you, too, Wanda."

Wanda kissed him, staying in his arms for as long as she could before she had to pull away. "Why—I mean, what made you decide to—" she waved her hand helplessly at the counter.

Vision looked uncomfortable again. "You seemed like you could use a taste of home."

Wanda smiled, tears pricking her eyes again. "Thank you, Vizh."

“Of course.”

Wanda examined Vision’s first batch of dough. “I hate to say it, babe, but this seems unsalvageable.”

Vision nodded. “I figured as much.” He crouched down and began sweeping the spilled flour into piles with his hands.

“You know that I can get all of that?” Wanda snapped her fingers, letting out a spark of red. “If you’d like.”

“Be my guest.” Vision stood, giving her a ‘go ahead’ gesture.

She smiled, setting down the bowl. This would be harder than most things she manipulated, but if she could extract a cloud of gas from a building, she could clean up a little flour.

A sweep of her hands and few flicks of her fingers, and delicate wisps of red were plucking at the grains of flour, gathering them together into a dust-cloud in the middle of the room. When she was sure she had it all, she sent it flying into the trash can, closing the lid with a satisfying clang.

Wanda turned to Vision, grinning. “Nothing to it.”

“It would appear not.” Vision smiled back at her, and then hesitated like there was something else he wanted to say.

“Yes?” Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I was going to wait to give these to you,” Vision reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small bag. Wanda recognized it instantly, and her eyes widened. “I thought that there wouldn’t be any harm in rescuing a few of your belongings from the compound. These seemed small enough to go unnoticed.”

Wanda stumbled forward and took the bag from him, fingers trembling as she undid the drawstring and let the contents tumble into her hand. It was her rings, all of them, the ones she’d been wearing when she’d been arrested and the ones she’d left in her room. She put them on immediately, and then laughed, pulling them off again.

“Is everything all right?” Vision asked nervously.

“Yes, don’t worry.” Wanda pressed a kiss onto his lips. “I just can’t cook with all the rings on.”

“Oh, right.” Vision looked embarrassed, and Wanda giggled. He gestured to the ingredients on the counter. “Shall we?”

“Absolutely.”

Cooking was much more enjoyable when Wanda was there to help. It frustrated Vision no end that he couldn't seem to master it, but Wanda's assurances that even many humans are terrible cooks did somewhat mollify him. The food turned out delicious, according to Wanda. He declined to have any so that Wanda would have plenty of leftovers for the rest of the week, but she did make him try a taste of each dish, and he had to admit that the palate was unlike anything he’d tried before.

Vision dried the last of the dishes as Wanda arranged the leftovers in the fridge, humming to herself. Vision figured this was as good a time as any to bring up the next item on his agenda.

"Wanda?"

"Hmm?" Her head was still in the tiny fridge, shoving things around.

"What song is that? You hum it often."

"Oh." Wanda straightened, letting the fridge door swing shut. "Uh, just something my dad used to listen to. An old Sokovian folk song. I don't really remember the words."

"Would you like to hear it?" Vision asked, producing a small CD player from where he’d stashed it in the cabinet.

"What?" Wanda cocked her head to the side. "There's no way that you—"

Vision pressed play.

The familiar melody filled the air. Vision was impressed at how well Wanda had been reproducing it after all these years.

She was silent while the song played, but she didn't try to stop the tears from falling this time.

Vision paused the CD before the next track could play, the anxious knot in his stomach now a familiar sensation.

"How did you do that?" Wanda breathed, "Where did you—"

"There was an old street performer in Novi Grad. He claimed to play nearly forgotten music, so I asked him about the song you always sing. It took some time, but he finally figured out which one I meant. He made a CD with that song, and others he thought you might know, and—" Vision reached into the cabinet again, fumbling slightly. Wanda twirled her fingers, and took the CD player from him with a few curls of scarlet, freeing his hands. "And he wrote down the sheet music, so you can learn to play them, if you want. I would have gotten you an instrument—I know you used to play guitar—but I wasn't sure what would be the most appropriate—"

"Vizh." Wanda said quietly, still balancing the CD player with her powers. "I'm so confused. Why did—How—When did you go to Novi Grad?”

The frustration in her voice and the tears still lingering on her face made Vision rapidly rethink his plan. Unfortunately, it was far too late to turn back now.

"Well, I guess—" He stumbled over the words. "Can we go sit down, and I'll explain?"

Wanda nodded, pulling the CD player towards her and cradling it to her chest as she followed him to the couch.

Vision waited until she was sitting comfortably with her feet curled under her, facing him. She was still clutching the CD player, but Vision took that as a good sign. He templed his fingers in his lap, staring down at them.

"I guess the simplest explanation is that I wanted you to know that you didn't have to completely give up your identity—whether that's your culture, or your personality, or anything else about you—just because you're a fugitive. You can still interact with all of these aspects that make you feel like yourself," Vision explained quietly. “So, I took a trip to Novi Grad to see if I could find something to help you feel better. I met a very nice woman who taught me to bake. Her grandmother taught me to cook, and her uncle was the street performer I mentioned.”

Wanda let out a breath. "Vizh, that's—I—" She broke off helplessly, holding out a hand towards his head. "Can I—?”

"Of course." Vision leaned closer, always welcoming a stronger connection with her, especially when she was articulating complicated emotions.

A few drops of red crossed the distance between her fingertips and his forehead, and then he was hit with a wave of warmth, and love, and gratitude, and just a hint of unworthiness, all jumbled together with confusion that anyone would go to all this trouble for her.

"It's not silly," Vision said immediately, picking up on the errant thought that she had been making a fuss over nothing. "There's nothing silly or inconsequential about your feelings, Wanda." He could tell she didn't quite believe him, or thought he didn't quite understand what she meant, so he persisted. "You think that your feelings of losing your identity were unfounded and ridiculous, and that's simply not the case."

Wanda shrugged, looking away. "I guess, but they certainly weren't worth all this."

"Of course they were," Vision insisted, grabbing her hands and bringing them to his lips. "Darling, you're the one who's always telling me that my feelings are valid, no matter what they are, and I want to show you that yours are as well."

Wanda was crying again. She pulled one of her hands back to swipe at her cheeks, and Vision reached out to cradle her face between his hands, wiping the tears away for her. "I apologize if this was too much. I don't think I've quite got the hang of what is an appropriate gesture. I just want you to know that—as you always tell me—whatever you're feeling is important to me. I want to do what I can to make you happy. Always."

Wanda bit her lip, nodding, and then pulled him close for a kiss. She didn't have the words to thank him, but she made sure that, through both her thoughts and her kisses, Vision knew exactly what he meant to her.

#sve2018 #scarletvisionexchange2018 #Scarlet Vision #fanfiction #my writing #Wanda Maximoff #Vision

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hellslittlemunckin · 6 years ago

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Prompt: wanda and vision having a picnic in a park (i left out the food and stuffs coz these two were just too cute)

This was made for the scarlet vision exchange, for @scarletxvision! I hope you like it :)

#scarletvisionexchange2018 #sve2018 #wanda maximoff #vision #wanda x vision

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anonthenullifier · 6 years ago

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This Wasn’t What I Had in Mind

Title: This Wasn’t What I Had in Mind

Gift for: Carlye (@scarletphantom1704)

Rating: T

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: During a rendezvous with Vision, a seemingly innocent excursion forces Wanda to remember all she has lost.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15996662

Prompt: I would love to receive a piece of fanart/or a fanfic of Vision comforting Wanda after a flashback, triggered by an ordinary object, and a panic attack in public. (MCU)

To Carlye: This was a fun but challenging prompt. I hope the story meets what you were wanting with the prompt :)

To Anya (@atendrilofscarlet), my beta, you are amazing! Thank you for reading so many versions of this in such a short time period and answering all my questions :D.

To everyone else, I hope you enjoy this too!

Made for the Scarlet Vision Exchange 2018!

It is freezing. Wanda suspects the only reason the steam hovering in front of her face isn’t crystallizing is because of how rapidly she is sucking in the frigid air and then pushing it back out. It’s so cold her wool-gloved hands are buried deep in her coat pockets instead of seizing the opportunity of the moment and holding Vision’s hand. In lieu of intertwined fingers, their bodies are huddled, shoulders and hips practically glued together as they stare forward.

“Did you know,” he glances down at her, movements minimized to retain heat, “until today the coldest day in Sopot’s history was -2.5 degrees Celsius?”

She’s fairly certain the winters at the compound were comparable to now, possibly worse, yet the rush of air coming from the sea seems to banish all potential warmth, leaving just a gray, lifeless wraith of an afternoon. “Don’t tempt me with such balmy facts, Vizh.” What she assumes is a breathy laugh, though could easily be a shudder at the bite in the air, mingles with the crashing of waves against the embankment of ice along the shoreline. “You know, this really wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“I did offer an alternative of staying in the hotel next to the radiator.”

Wanda cracks a smile at the specificity of the statement, his mind so vast and yet during their clandestine meetups it collapses to only reach out as far as what they are doing in the present, disregarding any subtext of a time further than now. “We’ll go back soon.”

A nod and a bump of his shoulder confirms his desire to do just that, “I believe that is for the best,” his voice shifts to being overly concerned, a tone that has been increasingly common for the past several weeks, “I do not believe it is in your best interest to develop pneumonia again.”

Wanda shrugs. In her opinion, the downsides of being sick were far outweighed by other factors. “Got you to stay with me for longer.”

“Yes,” a tiny smile sparks a small, welcomed ember in her chest, “though it also almost led to my discovery.”

“You act like Nat hasn’t pieced us together yet.” Sneaking around is never what either of them wanted as a basis of their relationship, which is why it was almost a godsend when Nat confronted her months ago. Anger mixed with disbelief and betrayal, but in the end was a hope, a guarded, questionable hope, one that allowed for an understanding to be reached that so long as Wanda was safe and checked in when required, she could be happy. Despite this, Vision still insists on never crossing paths with the other rogue Avengers. Likely worried that the pressure of lying about seeing four people would be too much. Giving vague and unhelpful answers to Ross about his time “searching” for her has already taken its toll on his demeanor, she’d never ask him to add to that responsibility. Wanda veers their thoughts from that particular topic, determined to make the most of their rendezvous. “When I started pestering Steve about a beach getaway, this wasn’t really what I meant.”

Vision glances down at her, then to the desolate stretches of sand, before finally settling his gaze on the angry, icy sea. “Though not ideal, tactically this is smarter. During the summer there are upwards of 2 million people in this city-“

“I know, Vision.” It’s been a hard set rule of Steve’s that they avoid peak tourism seasons when determining the locations each time they move around. Arguably large crowds could provide more cover, a greater chance to blend in, but it also means more eyes and cameras that might happen to upload one of their faces to Twitter or Instagram. That doesn’t mean Steve had to send her here in November--even September or early October would have less tourists and have the added bonus of potentially being warm enough for a proper beach vacation. “I just had it all planned out and it didn’t involve freezing our asses off.”

“Well,” he removes his hand from the safety of his pocket and wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to nestle in the blissfully warm crook of his arm, “If it were warmer, what did you envision us doing?”

The images of such a dream flash through her mind, all nondescript as to the beach itself, given she had no idea where Steve would send her, but there are commonalities in all beach resort areas. “We would have woken up early,” a disbelieving wrinkle mars his forehead and she nudges him with her shoulder, “earlier than usual, at least. Maybe we’d grab breakfast and buy some snacks and then head to the beach to claim our spot before all the tourists descend.”

“So far we have been successful with your plan.”

Wanda regrets that they are outside because it means she can’t watch his irises spin in delight at the dryness of his sass, so she’ll have to settle for the slight, prideful smirk on his pale face. “Well if you want to continue with the plan, then slap on a speedo and dive right in.” The incredulous silence stretches out for several seconds. She can practically hear the gears in his eyes swishing while he figures out a response, his distaste of immodest clothing in public (for himself, personally. He believes everyone else can decide for themselves what is and is not comfortable to wear in public) is a topic they have discussed at length when she tried to get him to wear shorts over the summer. Wanda happily fills the continued silence, pushing the idea just a touch more by offering him the argument she had already crafted for his inevitable hesitation in the swimwear. “It’s what all the locals wear, you wouldn’t want to stand out.”

“I-” another long pause precedes the cautious, diplomatic cadence of his diverting words, “well it is really, um, an incredibly unfortunate happenstance for us to be here when it is so cold then.” Vision doesn’t allow room for her to comment further or persist in ribbing him on the matter. “What else, did you have in mind?”

“Well, after we had swam and enjoyed the sun,” the latter not even attempting to peek through the clouds for emphasis, instead remaining hidden in its own winter gloom, “we would walk the pier until we got to the end of it where there’s just the sea in front of us and the sun on the waves.”

“Sounds lovely.”

Wanda smiles at the warmth in his voice. “We’d watch the water, talk some more, I’d definitely kiss you-”

“That part of the plan can certainly still happen.”

“And then,” Wanda pulls her hand from its safehaven in her coat so she can wrap her arm around his waist, relishing the tightening of his grip in return, “we’d grab ice cream and go back to the hotel for some alone time before you have to leave.”

She can sense the wistfulness of his mind soaking in the imaginary sun and it almost makes the air around them feel a few degrees warmer. “Perhaps we can salvage some of it.”

“Oh?”

An enthusiastic, mesmerizing grin matches the brightness of his eyes as Vision looks down at her, “I believe there was an ice cream stand open not too far from here and,” he steps away from her and places his leather-gloved hands on her upper arms, “if I can manage to figure out the radiator, we can adjust the temperature in the room to allow for us to pretend it is summer.”

Wanda’s cheeks ache, possibly from the icy wind assaulting her face, but a more probable explanation right now would be the broadness of her smile, “Sounds perfect.”

The ice cream stand is harder to find than Vision’s plan suggested, their search leading them in a meandering labyrinth of cobbled streets and alleys as they investigate every building that has the same pink and brown ice cream cone sculpture. Eventually, after what feels like twenty stops, they come across a lone ice cream vendor.

Wanda’s image of this moment is different from reality, her memory filled with hot summer days and smiling faces handing her ice cream that’s started to ooze down the ridges of the cone, whereas the man shivering behind the glass case is mutely unimpressed by Vision’s very friendly, “ Dzień dobry*.”

A harsh, “What do you want?” is the reply. Wanda laces her fingers through Vision’s, noting the tension in his muscles and preparing for the talk they’ll have later, at how, because of his accent, among other things, he can never pass himself off as a native speaker wherever they are at. She thinks it’s kind of cute, his belief that he could ever mask his proper English accent to fit in, but she also sympathizes given her own experiences of trying (and failing) to not be an “other” in public after moving to New York.

To help with his attempts to blend in, Vision has started eating with her, treating his choices in food like he does everything else -- with a laser focus and a desire to be equitable to all options. What this invariably means is that he is about to ask about every single flavor, combo, sauce, and cone. Given Wanda already knows what she wants (it’s what she gets every time), she responds before Vision gets a chance to read any flavors, “Stracciatella.” A heaping cone is passed over the counter, her tongue happily running through the creamy, chocolate speckled heaven while her eyes turn to take in the tiny, ill-insulated building as Vision mulls over his choices.

It’s a basic ice cream store. The requisite signs about toppings and pictures of beaming beach goers in speedos (something she’ll kindly direct Vision’s attention to while they eat) lining the walls. There’s a section of the far wall with postcards and fading pictures with autographs. One catches her eye, a recollection of those faces surfacing though she can’t quite place it until she notices a melody in the air. The music is different from the usual happy, bubblegum pop of these places. The song playing from a speaker behind the glass case curves her lips up, the fast paced, punk sound unmistakable. This was one of Pietro’s favorites and she hasn’t heard it in a long time. Wanda makes a mental note to have Vision listen to Hladno Pivo later, even if he’ll dislike it, most likely critiquing the harshness of the vocals and the clashing of the instruments. “And what is this one?” Vision’s voice draws her attention back to the counter where he’s pointing at another flavor and the man, knuckles white around the ice cream scoop, is doing his best to not be annoyed at all the questions.

“ Kasztan, it’s uh,” the man waves the scoop as he searches for the word, then he snaps the fingers of his other hand, turning to Wanda, a congenial almost hopeful uptick in his voice as he switches languages, “kesten, ja?”

A tingling in her chest blooms at the question. “It’s um,” Wanda nods her head, trying to close out the song so she can focus on translating the word. “It’s,” the tingle grows into a claw, wrapping its digits around her ribs as bursts of fiery light erupt from her mind. She turns towards Vision, hoping his curious and bright eyes will do what they always do best: calm her. “It’s um chest-,” yet the words fumble out as her breath begins to fail her, the talons of remembrance puncturing her lungs,”-nut”.

Vision’s Interesting fades away, the movements of the ice cream vendor slowing as he spoons out a cone, but Wanda finds she isn’t really there anymore. Instead she is ten again, lungs spasming into coughing fits as she sucks in the fresh air. Pietro is at her side, hand clutching her own, pulling her each time he coughs to get the last of the dust from his body. You would think, after a bombing and numerous rescue missions, that someone would be helping two children in the street, and yet there are terrifying screams coming from the stretchers being carried out of the building that garner all of the attention from the medics and the bystanders. “Dođi,” Pietro tugs her hand but her feet stay firmly planted to the ground, eyes refusing to leave the hole in the building where their home used to be. “Dođi, Wanda, otišli su.**”

Eventually she budges, head hanging low as they wander the city, no one noticing them until a woman stops them several streets over. Pietro handles the conversation, Wanda’s mind far too lost to comprehend what is being said, something about if they need help or if they are hungry. Whatever is said leads to an ice cream cone shoved in her hand, her fingers begrudgingly scrunching around the paper wrapper. Why she has ice cream is a mystery, it’s not a hot day, it’s not a happy day, it’s not even a filling food after days trapped under a bed. A hand waves in front of her eyes, focusing her energy on the beaming, filthy face of Pietro, a beige hued mound of ice cream hovering at her mouth, “To je kesten***”

A frantically quiet, “Wanda?” dissolves Pietro’s smiling face.

Vision waves a hand through the air, brow etched with concern until she nods, swallowing down the rising bile at the memory, refusing to give in to it now, “Yeah?”

“Would you like to eat outside?” It’s not what he actually wants to ask her, not what is coursing through his mind or painted all over his disguised face, but to maintain their cover, it’s the best he has.

“Um,” Wanda stares at the beige ice cream cone in his hand, attempts to nod, but gets distracted by the room closing in, inch by inch, a subtle, unnerving minimizing of the space around her. A numbness spreads through her hands, one that is different than the flow of her powers, and it follows the rapid increase in her heart rate. Deep breaths should work, at least Vision always made her do it in the early days of their friendship. A steady inhale, hold for three seconds, and then an exhale. Repeat as many times as needed. Eyes, she can hear his voice in the distance, as if through a wall, need to be trained on one item. So Wanda looks straight ahead, only to see the damned cone and the trickle of ice cream oozing over the paper wrapper.

Pietro always ate his ice cream fast enough to not let it melt, no matter if they were ten, fifteen, twenty, he always ate it joyfully and quickly. And it was always the same flavor, he refused to eat any ice cream that wasn’t chestnut, they even learned which parlors carried the flavor, on which days, and who they could convince to give them either a free cone or a discounted one. He should be holding that cone right now.

The trickle of despair dripping into her soul suddenly turns into a downpour and she can feel the bullets ripping through his body, her knees ache at the cuts from when she fell--lost, confused, and angry. Years had passed, literal years without Pietro, and she had coped, survived, learned how to move on, yet she needs him back. Desperately wants that constant, to feel his mind, hold his hand. Wanda’s body starts to shake. She closes her eyes, clamping out the image of the cone, breathing in deeply again and again, though it becomes more difficult, the absence of Pietro too much, her soul torn asunder day after day after day without him. She no longer even has the Avengers, doesn’t have the compound, can’t count on Vision to always float through her wall, or get the shit beat out of her at training to distract her. The world hates her, half her former teammates hate her, she’s a wanted fugitive with no prospect of salvation. Much like when she was ten, clutching Pietro’s hand, eating ice cream. Only he’s not here anymore.

Her chest burns, breaths shallow and labored as the world seems to dissolve, the past mixing with the present, taunting her with a blank and empty future, and she can’t determine if she’s ten, if she’s falling with Sokovia, if she’s sleeping in a shelter with Pietro’s arms around her, if she’s back at the compound listening to the soothing lull of an English accent, or if she’s in Poland on a freezing day eating ice cream with her undercover boyfriend.

Only Pietro ever fully understood her when she spoke of separating from reality like this, of getting lost in the sea of memory, where each wave crashing down brings only more confusion. Wanda is falling now, a weightlessness overtaking her, and she closes her eyes as she feels her home plummet from beneath her, heart shattered and body empty, accepting her fate to join Pietro, wherever he went.

There is a feeling of movement, not of free falling, but hovering, her eyes cracking open long enough to see the world morphing around her: walls dropping away, the wind picking up around her head, stirring her hair, her legs swinging freely. There is motion and there is sound, words muffled and muddled so that she isn’t sure if people are screaming for help in the hell of flames, demanding why they are being asked to leave their homes, taunting her on the streets, calling her a criminal and a witch, or even just asking if she is okay. Her senses function like a kaleidoscope, shifting and rotating so that each combination of stimuli produces bursts of distorted experience that masks what exactly is happening or where she is. Wanda closes her eyes tighter, time slipping through her grasp, her fingers grabbing at the strands of her life, instead scrunching into the fabric of whomever is holding her-- maybe it’s Pietro, guiding her to wherever he’s been; maybe it’s Vision saving her from falling with Ultron’s carcass; maybe it’s the guards securing her after another flare up of her newly gifted powers; maybe it could even be her mother, cradling her after a night terror.

There is a chiming and then the world stops moving.

“Wanda?” A voice reaches out to her, calm though fraying at the edges. “Wanda.” Lavender fills her nose and a sweltering heat cocoons her. “Wanda, it is all right.” The ground under her sinks and creaks. Wanda flexes her fingers, digging her nails into a stiff fabric and a fluffy foundation. “Wanda, I made you tea.”

She opens her eyes a sliver, just enough to confirm she is on a bed, noting a blurry patch of crimson not too far away. A sound attempts to come from her mouth, but her throat is parched, unwilling to function more than a croaked, “Vizh?”

A hand runs through her hair, each stroke diminishing the thoughts, bringing her back to the present. “I am here, Wanda.” It’s enough to vanquish most of the confusion, solidifying which reality she is currently in, yet still her body sinks under the weight of Pietro’s continued absence. “Do you want to discuss it?”

They established a routine in the early months of being Avengers, back when she was still figuring out who he was and what she was after everything, back before she could kiss him whenever she wanted, before she could slip into his mind at any given time, before he held her in a way that wasn’t just for comfort. It’s been a long time since they’ve used it, but clearly he remembers. Step 1: Neutralize the chance of public detection, Step 2: Utilize the calming principles of lavender and chamomile tea. Step 3: Offer to talk. “I-” Wanda tries to sit up but he lightly presses her down, crawling into the bed next to her so that their eyes are level. The gears are back, whirling in a frenzy that clashes with his overall calm demeanor. There’s so much to say, so much of it has already been said, countless times and honestly, she has no desire to talk about all of it again, can’t help but feel embarrassed at still having panic attacks like this. “Kesten was Pietro’s favorite flavor.”

“I see.” All of his empathy and apologies (ones for not being able to stop it sooner, for not being able to save Pietro, for not being able to take this pain away, for them being forced to moonlight as a couple) are wrapped into the two syllables along with a firm, nonjudgmental understanding that she doesn’t want to talk. “Would you like to try muscle relaxation?”

Wanda wants to know who all saw her attack, witnessed her crumbling facade, whether it attracted too much attention, if someone caught a picture and uploaded it somewhere. But he’s already moved them to Step 4: Regain control. Wanda decides to play along knowing there should be plenty of time to interrogate him as to what danger she placed them in. “That sounds nice.”

Unlike all the other times he did this at the compound, Vision wraps his arm around her, placing a chaste, loving kiss to her forehead before starting the process. “We will start with your hands.”

The first time he had her do this, she felt ridiculous, challenged him on it and refused for a time. Eventually he convinced her which soon transformed into her hoping he’d recommend this technique, as it allowed her more time with him and a chance to purposely place all of her attention on his voice. “Ready.”

“Focus on your fingers,” she wiggles them, brushing his stomach in the process, “I am glad you found them.” The smile is easily detected in his tone, but fades quickly as he instructs her. “Now focus on each hand individually, first squeeze your fingers into a fist, noting the tension," Wanda nestles into his chest, following his instructions, bending the fingers of her right hand into a shaking fist. "Good, now ease your fingers open until there is no tension left.”

Her mind and powers calm as she begins to loosen the control of her grief, her fingers relaxing and dropping down one-by-one in relief. “Right hand good to go.”

A hand brushes through her hair, “Good job. Now your left hand.” She repeats the process, clenching and then unclenching her fingers, exhaling happily once both hands are resting against Vision’s body. The next step is her arms, so she starts to flex her right arm but pauses when Vision hugs her closer, drawing her forehead tenderly to his lips again. Such contact was never included in their routine, yet he seems indifferent to the change, segueing calmingly to the next part, “Well done, Wanda. Now-”

She stares into his eyes, awed at the twists and turns of life that brought this man to her and how he can so easily transition her from an all encompassing loss to the feeling of butterflies in her stomach. “You’re changing the protocol.”

“I, um,” Vision frowns, not an upset or angry gesture, but a contemplative and shy move as he runs his fingers along her back, “thought such a gesture might aid in your relaxation. Perhaps a rewards based system of motivation.”

The timidness that fueled each touch and word in the early days of their not-quite-friendship-but-not-quite-lovers relationship has fallen away over the last year, giving way to this new, still cautious, but more confident side of Vision. Wanda grins, “I think it sounds helpful. Want to keep going?”

The half-arc of his lips is radiant, “Yes, now your arms.” He scoots away from her, leaving enough room for her to follow his instructions, “tighten your right bicep, drawing your forearm up.”

“Welcome to the gun show, Vizh.” It’s a joke he didn’t comprehend the first five times she used it, but now he simply smiles, head shaking as he watches her flex her muscles before releasing her arm to lay back down along her side. Then she repeats the action, and the joke, on the other side before Vision moves back, their chests touching as he lays another kiss on her forehead. “Next?”

They move through her body, his even commands guiding her to raise her shoulders up to touch her ears and then lower them into a peaceful state. He kisses her forehead with another “Good job.” Wanda sucks in a deep breath, creating tension in her lungs, only this time it’s under her control and Vision’s supervision, not a sense of gasping but a sense of order, her breath releasing against his face, causing him to blink rapidly before bestowing her reward. Her stomach collapses in and then expands out in time with his voice, only she pushes it farther than she's supposed to, bumping him with her body which leads to a quiet laugh as he kisses her again. “Lastly, Wanda," Vision holds her close, their foreheads touching as he talks, "squeeze your left thigh and curl your toes, then release.” Wanda sighs as she finishes the exercise, body sinking into the mattress, not because of grief anymore, but a sense serenity and contentment.

Several minutes pass in silence, only the slight buzz from the radiator and the even rhythm of Vision’s breathing filling the air around her with a pleasing warmth. Having allowed her time to bask in her relaxation, Vision tiptoes into his next comment, “I am sorry.”

“For what?”

He shifts slightly, the springs complaining until he settles, lips pursed and eyes twisting in anxiety, “That the day did not match your expectations.”

None of her beachy daydreams included this moment, this is undoubtedly true, yet Wanda finds herself content to be wrapped in his arms, cuddled close on a freezing day. “It’s not your fault, Vizh. The day wasn’t horrible.”

“Not horrible is a poor benchmark for a day when we get so few together.”

Wanda grins at him, freeing her left arm from his embrace enough to draw her hand down his face, watch as his eyes flutter shut at the touch. For all that she has lost, all that she will lose in the future, she’s overjoyed that amongst all of that she has found him. “Well, there’s still time for you to fix the radiator and slap on a speedo.” He kisses her, stifling her laugh and distracting her from the world and all its cruelties for just a bit longer.

*Dzień dobry: ��Good afternoon ** Dođi. Dođi, Wanda, otišli su: Come on. Come on Wanda, they’re gone. *** To je kesten: it’s chestnut!

#sve2018 #scarletvisionexchange2018 #scarlet vision #wanda maximoff #vision #mcu #angst and fluff #pinch hitter #mine #ao3

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scarletxvision · 6 years ago

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For: Josie @hellslittlemunckin

Fluffy Scarlet Vision is like my kryptonite so I decided to use the prompt about the beach fanart and I really really really hope you like what I came up with!! It’s so great being able to make my babies happy (even if it’s only in my imagination and fan work) :)

Made for the Scarlet Vision Exchange 2018!!

#scarlet vision exchange 2018 #sve2018 #scarlet vision #fanart #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #vision

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chestnutbrumby · 6 years ago

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For: http://dammit-stark.tumblr.com Rating: G Word count: 3,900 Warnings: N/A Summary: Wanda's first solo mission goes awry but help is closer than she knows. Made for the Scarlet Vision Exchange 2018! Here’s mine this years guys <3

#sve2018 #scarletvisionexchange2018 #Scarlet Vision #wanda maximov #Vision

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imahugespoon · 6 years ago

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Staying

For: @anunknownnebula

Rating: T

Word Count : 1746

Hi @anunknownnebula, I'm @mximoffandoms and here is the fan fiction you requested! I'm not a very (if at all) experienced writer but I just wrote a super short story for you!

Hope you enjoy!! 😀

For the ScarletVision Exchange 2018

I remember that day when he arrived. I had just been settling in to my temporary hideout in Scotland when a knock came from my door. My heart immediately stopped. After inching the door open, I was greeted with a crooked smile and a simple, “H..hello, Wanda.” There he was. With his simple cashmere sweater and beautiful smile. Before I could say a word, I rushed him in before anyone could question why there was a purple man wandering around the area.

“I’ve been..worried about..you and I wanted to see how you were doing. Captain Rogers informed me of your whereabouts and so I left while Mr Stark was on a trip in India.”

I remember sitting in my living room, paralysed with shock. When I first saw Vision, he was like a stern robot, built to fulfill its master’s orders. And fulfill, he did by helping us to defeat Ultron. However, I had grown to see who he really was. A caring, gentle man. Who somehow managed to find me all the way in Scotland, after escaping from a high-security facility.

It had been two weeks since that day. Vision often stayed in my apartment for several days before returning to the compound. He kept me company and I was grateful for it. In fact, I yearned it. Every time that same familiar pattern of his knock resounded through my apartment, an enormous smile grew on my face. We spent so many days and nights talking that I could never even imagine dreary days in Scotland without him.

As I made him his tea, I could see from the corner of my eye that he was nervously pacing around the room. He had been worrying a lot about Stark and the Accords ever since Ross started hunting down all of us. Suddenly, I heard a groan of pain from across the room. Vision was hunched over, his hand covering the normally dim-coloured stone on his forehead as he started to light up.

I ran towards him and clutched his long, lanky arm.

“Viz, oh my god! Are you alright?”

“Wa...wanda”

He started to mutter several unintelligible words as i stroked his smooth hands. After a while, he started to cool down as he lay back on the couch, still gently touching that stone. The same stone that gave me these powers, the same stone that forced me to go through weeks and weeks of experiments and torture through Strucker.

“Wanda, I am terribly sorry, I...I don’t know what came over me. The stone...I think it was trying to tell me something.”

I was absolutely baffled. The stone had never shown any sort of reaction, let alone trying to tell Viz something. For the past 2 years, it just lay there, constantly nestled in his forehead.

“Well, it...gave life to my powers. Perhaps it could be sentient of some kind and this was a sign.” I commented, still rubbing his arm.

“Wanda, what if something terrible is coming? I don’t want anything bad to happen to yo...to anyone."

“VIz, I’m sure it may be fine. Who knows, it may just be a sign for something else.”

I gently held the side of his face with my palm, capturing every inch of the purple, vibranium-like texture in my brain. If VIz was right and something bad was coming, I wanted to remember every moment. As I looked in his eyes, I could see that he was still troubled. His eyes were so childlike and innocent, as if he had not yet fully experienced life. And yet, he seemed to me like one of the most mature people I had ever met. He stared back at me and my heart leapt for joy and it was beating faster than ever.

What was happening?

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Then, there was the first time we kissed. Viz took me to the park after showing me his human ‘disguise’ for the first time. He chuckled, claiming that he would help him fit in. Though I do admit that he looked rather charming with his blond hair, I much preferred seeing his towering figure of purple vibranium. The figure that sheltered me through the stormy nights and always stayed up late just to talk to me. Whether it was after nightmares or just friendly chatter, I adored his company.

When we got to the park, Viz was so nervous that I could see his hands clammy up. It was absolutely adorable the way he cleared his throat before telling me how I felt for me. At that point, there was no point confessing as I had known for weeks now. And I felt exactly the same way. Viz made me feel special and looked at me differently, unlike the rest of the world. He made me feel grateful for my powers instead of feeling like they were a curse from Hell.

The way he constantly kissed my hands as a reminder of my gift made my heart skip. Thus, the moment he finally kissed me in the park in Edinburgh was truly magical. How our lips softly pressed together truly solidified our intense feelings to one another.

I could not think of a better way to end off that afternoon. However, Viz had other surprises up his sleeve. He dragged me to a cafe and sat me down before I could even utter a word of objection. Before I could realise it, a single plate was plopped on the table in front of me.

“Is that Paprikash?”

The ever familiar paprika scent wafted through my nose. Thinking back of those days when my mother would make this for me and Pietro, it brought tears to my eyes.

“Wanda, are you alright? Did I do something wrong?” Viz immediately sat down opposite me, holding my hand. Sniffling back tears, I sat there stroking his smooth hand.

“No, everything is perfect. Just perfect.”

Heading back to the apartment, I witnessed once again the miraculous change that Viz made from his ‘human’ form to his normal form, the Vision that I was used to. After making some popcorn, we snuggled up on the coach for our weekly movie evenings. Today, we were watching one of my favourite movies, The Princess Diaries.

As the movie progressed, Vision slowly moved his arm around my shoulders. I calmly relaxed in his arms, shifting closer to him. I knew that he was still getting used to this whole relationship but I wanted to let him know that I was fine and I wanted it too. Suddenly, I saw the sudden glow of the stone and Vision let out a grunt of pain.

I quickly turned off the television, turning towards him. The stone was still incessantly glowing as I placed my hands on his cheeks. Vis slowly opened his eyes and I could see that the pain had gradually increased although he had better learned to deal with it since the last time.

As he took my hand and lightly planted a kiss on my palm, it still gave me flashbacks of the time I...I controlled him. I made him succumb to my very command as he sunk through many floors of the Avengers compound. To this day, I still regret it. But, I had an idea.

Without even thinking of it, I instinctively placed my palm near his forehead. Scarlet tendrils twisted in coils as they stretched towards his forehead, finally latching themselves onto it. All of a sudden, a rush of emotions flooded my body. Feelings of guilt...and love. Immense love, like the sun that lights up a dark day and in that light, a single image materialised.

It looked like me. I realised that I could feel Viz, I felt him in my mind, my entire being. I desperately tried to reach deep down into his mind to find out the root of his pain. However, instead of finding torturous pain, I found beauty.

I gradually opened my eyes and temporarily severed our connection. Vision was in utter shock, his mouth hanging open.

“Wanda, how did you know that you could do that?”

“I...I don’t know. I think that because of the relation between your stone and powers, I just knew that I could do that. I tried to figure out what was causing all your pain but I didn’t feel nothing. I just…”

“Just what, Wanda?” Vis asked, grabbing my hand.

“I just felt you.”

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The next few times Vision had this sudden pain, he had learned to control it better. He still could not figure out what the stone was trying to tell him but he learned to put it aside. Instead, we spent every free moment we possibly could together, for we knew sooner or later something was coming.

However, I never knew that after 1 year of the recurring signs and visions, it would come to this.

“Tell me what you feel.”

“I just feel you.” And it was true. However many times Vis constantly asked me to look inside his head, no matter how desperately, I could never feel for anything. I just felt him but that was all I needed in my life. Since I was young, I was constantly faced with obstacles and I could never catch a breath. Back then, I had Pedro to help me deal with it but after he...died, I felt alone. Vis brought me true peace, even if it was only for two years.

When he asked me to stay with him in Edinburgh, his words constantly rang in my head. Although I knew that that was what I wanted, I was still conflicted. I loved our relationship and I treasured every single moment that we spent together but I was still unsure if I was truly ready to take that step. The many risks I had taken in my life had all turned into terrifying disasters and I did not want this to be one too.

Thinking back at it, a mere 10 hours ago, none of that mattered when we had a bigger problem.

“Drop to 2600, heading 0-3-0.”

“I hope you’re right about this, or we’re gonna land a lot faster than you want to.”

I glance up to see Cap and Sam hunched over the control panel of the Quinjet. Looking back at Vision, I place my hand on his chest, where the faint scar is still visible.

"I love you. "

#scarletvisionexchange2018 #sve2018 #marvel #mcu #vision #wandamaximoff #wanda #scarletvision #wandavision #fanfiction

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avengcrwanda · 6 years ago

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If there is one thing you have to remember, only this: Tony Stark is destroying everything. Ultron has drilled this into Wanda's and Pietro's minds ever since they fell under his care.

Stark's replicants are ruining the world, and there will come a time where they will be out of control and wipe out humanity as we know it. Just like how his bombs destroyed families and houses. This is just his next step to armageddon.

Knowing this keeps Wanda good at her job, assigned by Ultron himself: being a Blade Runner, someone who specializes in eliminating Stark's replicants. Highest kill rate amongst all of Ultron's rebels. If her heart stutters at the pleas of the replicants she retires, she learns to shove them in a box in her mind, labelled "things to never think about." Besides, these replicants aren't really alive. No feelings, no life, no remorse. Right?

When a botched mission leaves her injured and alone in the middle of Stark's labs, she meets his latest model, the one-of-a-kind Vision. He cares for her and nourishes her back to health, despite knowing her as part of the enemy. This makes Wanda question all that she knows about Stark and his androids, and what it really means to be human.

Blade Runner-inspired AU, but the rebels are the Blade Runners and androids are relatively peaceful. This plays a bit on Age of Ultron where Wanda is wary of Stark and Vision, although I stretched it A LOT.

☆ Gift for @mximoffandoms, for the Scarletvision Exchange 2018 hosted by @thescarletvisionnetwork ! ☆

#scarletvisionexchange2018 #sve2018 #scarletvision #marvel #mcu #vision #wanda maximoff #*#queuety

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redwtch · 6 years ago

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For: @thissweetmoment Made for the Scarlet Vision Exchange 2018!

#sve2018 #scarletvisionexchange2018

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scarletawitch · 6 years ago

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give me that green light (only if it feels right)

For: mickeyyasi

Rating: E

Word count: 9615

Summary: Wanda never thought she'd have to give her boyfriend "The Talk", but when your boyfriend is an android, all sorts of things happen that you'd never expect.

Written for mickeyyasi during the 2018 Scarlet Vision Exchange!

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16034021

Vision’s lips crash against her own, and Wanda knows this is the closest thing she will ever get to heaven. His strong arms wrap around her as she clutches at his broad shoulders, feeling as though she may melt away without the anchor of his body under her hands.

What amazes her is that it is always like this; kissing Vision, touching him, holding him, never fails to ignite a fire deep within her. She’s kissed and been kissed before, of course: there had been other scared teenagers in Sokovia desperate to feel something other than fear, and so there had been hurried encounters in alleys, in dark corners of her high school. But there had never been anything like this. Kissing Vision made her feel alive. It made her feel like she was flying. It made her feel all the cliched things she’d read about in cheap romance novels as a teenager, and lately, it had been making her want more.

Now, if Vision weren’t a synthezoid, she would know what to do. Those desperate, scavenged moments included more than just kissing, after all. But Wanda has no idea where to go from here with Vizh. If he was anyone else, she might start by trailing kisses down his neck, sliding her hands between his legs and making him tremble and moan with her touch. But would that even work? Would he feel anything? Would it just end with them both blushing and stammering, unable to even look each other in the eye? What would his strong, capable hands feel like on her bare skin, on her most intimate places?

Wanda determines to find out.

She reluctantly tears her lips from Vision’s and before he can question her, before he can say anything, she presses soft, hungry kisses to his sharp jaw, to his neck, before teasingly (or so she hoped) licking the bright band of silver between the bottom of his neck and shoulder, hoping that juncture is as sensitive to an android as it was to a human.

“Wanda, darling,” Vision clears his throat, and she pulls back sharply, eyes falling to her lap. He gently rests his hands on her upper arms and rubs his warm hands over her bare skin. When Wanda finally gathers the courage to look in his eyes, she is mortified to see an amused smile dancing in them and brings her ring-covered hands up to cover her face. He kisses her forehead softly before pulling her hands down and holding them tenderly in his own. “What was that? It was,” He pauses, searching for the right word, “different.”

“I…” Wanda straightens her spine, trying to recall her former courage. “I thought perhaps it was time we did more than kissing.”

“By kissing me in other places?”

“No! Well, yes.” Wanda sighs deeply. “Usually when you kiss someone’s neck it means that you want… well, that you want more.”

“More?” The humor disappears from Vision’s expression, and fine lines appear around his eyes as he draws his brows together in confusion. Does she no longer want him? Does she want a man, not an android? His thoughts race at a million miles an hour, and his distress must either be apparent on his face or the telepathic equivalent of shouting, because Wanda’s brows furrow and she frowns.

“ I can hear you, and no, that’s not what I want.” She huffs out an exasperated breath before tipping her head forward to rest on his chest. “Oh my god, I’m going to have to have the Talk with my boyfriend.”

“The Talk? Wanda, I’m very confused.” Vision’s voice vibrates just above her forehead, and the deep timber of it makes her shiver as she smiles.

“Oh, Vizh. I’m sorry. I forget sometimes that you’re so new.” Wanda pulls back so that she can put her hands on either side of his face and smile up at him. “We should sit. This may take a while.”

“Wanda, is something wrong? Mr. Stark told me that usually when women wish to talk, something is wrong. However, I suspected that was a patently false generalization from Tony’s past experiences with his lovers.” Vision begins to babble, and Wanda grins at his nervousness as she leads him to the oversized chair in her room that she often used for reading. She guides him to sit, then sits on his lap and winds her arms around his neck. His arms immediately wrap around her waist for support, and the soft heat and pressure on her back makes her want to melt into his embrace and never get back up.

“Nothing is wrong, ljubavi moja. I did not ever expect to have this conversation with you, that’s all.” Wanda leans forward and kisses Vision’s cheek as she gathers her thoughts. “People are very physical in expressing their affection.”

“As I’ve noticed.” Vision runs his hands over Wanda’s back, calling attention to their entwined bodies.

“Oh, hush.” Wanda blushes and kisses the tip of his nose. “Well, when people want to express their affection to someone they love romantically, they kiss and touch, and well, they have sex, yes?”

“Ah, yes. My memories from JARVIS detail many instances of Tony speaking about sex. It sounds as if sex got Tony in quite a bit of trouble.” Vision’s mind and memories contain more than that, actually: he still has access to the Internet, after all. He’s very aware of how people share their affections, but Wanda is blushing so prettily and being so patient that he gives nothing away and listens attentively, the perfect picture of a naïve and willing student.

Wanda works hard to suppress her laughter, but ultimately fails. “Perhaps you should ignore those. You should ignore anything Tony tells you about sex, probably.”

“You may be correct, my dear.” Vision answers dryly.

“Anyway, when people in love want to show each other how much they love each other, they have sex. There’s lots of different ways to have sex, but usually it involves… god, this is hard to talk about.” Wanda blushes even more deeply and swallows hard, trying to paint the most accurate picture she can for Vision without sounding like a doctor, or worse, a mother. “Sex is something intimate, or I like to think it is. It’s something you do when you want to share feelings of passion with someone else, or for some people, when they want to make a child. Usually, it involves intercourse. Or touching each other’s genitals. Or licking.” Noting Vision’s flat stare, Wanda ducks her head. “Sranje, I’m going about this all wrong.”

“No, darling, no. It’s not that. It’s not that at all.” Vision kisses her forehead reassuringly. “I was momentarily, ah, overloaded with the idea of you and I doing those things.”

“Oh?” Wanda looks up with a mischievous grin. “I’ve overloaded you?”

“Your very touch is enough to halt every non-vital process in my brain, Wanda. The idea that you would want to share yourself with me in that way is enough to overload me completely.” He kisses her soundly, and Wanda feels her worries and insecurities burn away in the fire behind his kiss.

“You giant sap.” Wanda grins wickedly.

“Only for you, my dear.” Vision purses his lips, a sure sign that he’s thinking through something. “I do not know if my body will respond the way most would. The vibranium tissue does receive sensation, but I’m afraid that I would not be able to experience pleasure the way that others would.”

“I wondered about that. That’s why I kissed your neck the way I did. To most people, that would have been very sensitive and pleasurable, but it does not seem to have had the same effect on you.”

“No, not at all. And I have no genitals to speak of, either. I don’t think that was Ultron’s priority when he created this body.” Vision smiles wryly.

“So, you could say it wasn’t part of his vision?” Wanda chuckles as Vision groans at her bad pun, but soon sobers. “I mean, those,” she gestures vaguely at his crotch, “aren’t absolutely necessary. There are other ways to have sex or bring each other pleasure.”

“Yes, you mentioned something about touching and licking earlier.” Vision smiles hungrily at her and lightly trails one finger down her spine, causing her to gasp and arch into him suddenly at the pleasure that fizzles within her. “Bodies have nerve clusters in the most interesting places, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’re a quick study, I see.” Wanda takes a deep breath and shivers, causing Vision’s smile to grow wider. “Well, yes. There’s touching, as you demonstrated, where people have many nerves. Licking, kissing, sometimes even biting, those places can be considered pleasurable as well.” Her mentions of licking and kissing brings forward images of Vision worshipping her body with his mouth, which make her squirm on his lap. “When your partner’s body has been stimulated enough, they reach climax, or , uh, orgasm.” Vision’s bright blue gaze is arresting, and Wanda can’t quite breathe as she thinks of him finding pleasure and climaxing under her touch. “With men, they release a fluid called семе – I think the English word is semen?” Wanda’s sure the heat from her blush could melt a glacier, but Vison’s gaze remains passive, if a touch curious, not betraying any sign that the topic embarrasses or excites him. “Anyway, that fluid contains sperm, which would fertilize an egg released by the woman to, in theory, create a child. When women orgasm, they release more lubrication.”

“Lubrication?”

“For penetration.”

“I see.” Vision takes a breath. “Wanda, do you – did you – want children?” He looks into her eyes, and Wanda doesn’t need to read his mind to see the insecurity and fear that shine through.

“Maybe someday, but I think that’s a decision we should make together,” Wanda lifts her hand and caresses Vision’s cheek, “no?

“Wanda, there would be no decision to make. I cannot father children. This body wasn’t made for that.” The fear in his eyes gives way to hurt, and he looks away from her gaze. “I could never give you that.”

“Vizh.” Wanda puts her other hand on his other cheek and guides his gaze back to her own. “There are other ways. We could adopt or use a sperm donor, or we could choose to not have children at all. I know that you can’t father children, and I don’t care. I want to be with you, no matter what your body can or can’t do.”

“Are you sure, Wanda? I don’t wish to be a source of regret for you.” It takes all of his strength to hold her gaze. Wanda senses this and kisses his forehead, letting him close his eyes and hide a little after he’s made himself so vulnerable while reassuring him with physical affection. Her small hands come up to cup his face, and she finds his eyes again so that he can see the truth behind her next words.

“In all the chaos of my life, Vizh, the only thing I am sure about is you.”

Vision takes one of her hands and kisses her palm before pulling her to him for a tender, affirming kiss. When they pull away, they both are smiling.

“I apologize for bringing the mood down.” Vision clears his throat, which Wanda always finds adorable. It’s a completely unnecessary gesture, but it’s something he picked up from one of the Avengers when he was still learning the nuances of body language. “So, stimulation of your partner’s genitals until orgasm by touching, licking, or penetration, hmm? I take it from your fidgeting and elevated heart rate that you would consider that pleasurable, Wanda?” Vision’s smile changes, and his playful, inquisitive manner switches to wicked, bare desire. Wanda huffs, kisses him deeply, and moans with pleasure as he gently drags her lower lip between his teeth.

“Fuck, Vizh… yes, I would. I want to experience everything with you.”

“I want that as well, Wanda. I want to discover what brings you pleasure.” Vision leans in and kisses her again, this time as he trails his finger down her spine. Wanda shakes in his arms, and once they end the kiss, he looks deeply into her eyes. “Please, darling.”

Wanda chuckles deep and low. “How can I say no to that?”

Vision straightens, his posture tense. “You can say no in any language, Wanda, and I can understand you. If your body language indicated distress, I would stop immediately. Please don’t feel as if you must allow me this.”

“I’m sorry, Vizh. I meant that what you said sounded so nice that I could not refuse.” Vision’s posture doesn’t relax at all and he begins to withdraw his hands. “No, I meant that you persuaded me. No, that you…jebati engleski. I mean that what you said was so lovely and I would not want to say no.”

“Indeed. I was terrified to think that you thought that once we started this, we could not stop it.” Vision relaxes then and wraps his arms around Wanda once more.

“I trust you, Vizh, with my heart and my body. I know that you would never hurt me or cause me distress.” Wanda looks deep in his eyes, searching. “You know it is the same for me, yes? If you said no, I would stop.”

“I trust you, my love.” Vision’s smile reaches his eyes, and he cradles her face in his hands. “But I am glad we cleared the air.” He kisses her then, gently, but it is enough to rekindle the passion from moments before. Just as she is about to deepen the kiss, he pulls away from her lips, and before she can whimper at the loss of contact, he mimics her earlier actions and kisses her jaw, her neck, before lightly biting the curve where her neck meets her shoulder. Wanda moans and rolls her hips, seeking friction to relieve the pleasure that steadily builds in her core. “I see. It must be very pleasurable.” Vision teases before resuming his attentions.

“Holy fuck, Vizh…” Wanda moans breathily, and he moves from her neck to press kisses to her collarbone as his hands move to the hem of her blouse.

“May I remove your shirt, Wanda? I would like to see you.” Vision punctuates his request with kisses, and Wanda can barely gather her thoughts enough to nod enthusiastically. He lifts her shirt up, and regrettably has to stop kissing her as she reaches up, allowing him to peel the shirt from her skin and throw it to the floor. Her upper body is bare to him now, and his eyes dart over every inch of pale skin that is now exposed, seeming never to stop in one place for long. He reaches out and carefully takes her left breast in his hand, rolling it experimentally, and when he feels her nipple rise to meet his touch, he lightly drags one finger over the responsive bud. She gasps, and he moves his hand to her other breast to tease there as well.

Vision pauses after each shallow breath she makes, a lazy, satisfied smile crawling across his lips whenever she moans or whimpers at his touch. It's intoxicating yet infuriating, this slow progression taunting her more than satiating her desires. Wanda tries to keep her frustrations silent, adopting a good-natured and encouraging this-is-wonderful-please-keep-going tone, "You don't have to keep stopping, I'll tell you if that's ever needed."

Sadly, the prodding only keeps him away from her skin. "I am aware, I just," his hand brushes experimentally along the undersides of her breasts, fingers following the intricate pattern of her lace bra, and the texture of the fabric brushing against her sensitive flesh has Wanda whimpering for more of his touch, "I am cataloguing each action and your response."

"Oh?"

"Yes," another languid trail of his fingers goes along with the word, this time traveling downwards along her stomach, "I have never heard sweeter sounds and I wish to remember it all perfectly so I may recreate it often." Wanda groans and moves against him so enthusiastically that he has to press an elbow against the arm of the chair to steady them. Vision’s other hand rests against her back, slowly trailing down her spine and up again as he returns his mouth to hers, where she practically attacks his mouth with her own.

Lost in the euphoria of her kiss, Vision hardly notices when Wanda’s hands disappear from his shoulders and go behind her back to unclasp her bra. Luckily, his hand at her back is enough to maintain their tangled balance on the oversized chair, but he leans back slightly to give her room to slide the straps down her arms. As the stretchy fabric moves down her toned arms, he follows it with reverent kisses and notes that Wanda’s heart rate jumps when he kisses the skin over her biceps brachii. He resolves to explore that further later, but is anxious to map every inch of her exposed skin with his mouth.

He hungrily takes in the sight of Wanda’s exposed chest and torso. He understands the evolutionary and primary purpose of breasts, but his knowledge of neural clusters suggests that they would be perfect for stimulation. He gently takes her left breast in his right hand. Something at the base of his spine sparks when the soft flesh slightly overflows from his grasp, and a soft groan echoes up from his throat. He eagerly bends his head and begins to worship her body with his mouth, savoring the silky feel and salty sweet taste of her skin, as well as the loud gasps of pleasure Wanda can no longer stifle. Having abandoned himself entirely to instinct, he takes one of her stiff, pink nipples into his mouth, sucking and licking gently.

Nothing could have prepared him for how Wanda would react. She begins to grind her core against him in earnest, and the press of her sex against his body causes his heart to skip a beat.

“Oh my god, Vizh, oh my god…” Wanda pants and arches her back, which pushes her breast more firmly against his mouth. The same thing sparks in him as before, and he grins as he recognizes the feeling to be physical pleasure. He recognizes it from their kisses, but seeing Wanda’s body and making her feel good gives him satisfaction so much more intense that it seems only tangentially related to the gentle buzz of pleasure he had felt during their kisses.

He moves to her other breast to worship at that altar, and as he moves, he notices an earthy, damp smell pervade the air of Wanda’s bedroom. His brain quickly analyzes the chemicals present in the smell, and he lets out his own moan when he realizes that Wanda is so aroused by his actions that he can smell it in the air. He pulls back from her breast with a soft pop and runs his eyes up and down her body before meeting her gaze with his own.

“Wanda, you are stunningly beautiful. I apologize for not saying it sooner, but what’s that saying? Show, don’t tell?”

Wanda laughs and kisses him. “Thank you, ljubavi moja. I think you are beautiful as well.” She runs her hands over his burgundy skin, wondering where to rest her hands and where to touch. Her caresses seem to have little effect on him, and without something between his legs to touch and tease, Wanda is at a loss. Vision bends to resume his previous worship of her breasts, but she lifts his head by placing one of her small fingers under his chin and guiding his eyes to meet her own.

“Vizh, I want to make you feel good, the way you’ve made me feel.” Wanda whispers, and is rewarded with one of Vision’s coy sideways smiles.

“I appreciate that, Wanda, but I would rather focus my full attention on you.” Wanda opens her mouth to protest, but he silences her with a soft kiss. “We have time to figure out the rest.”

“I don’t want this to be one-sided forever, love. Are you sure this is what you want?” Wanda places one hand on his cheek, and he leans into her gentle touch.

“Wanda, you have taught me the meaning of ‘want’. I’m sure.” To reinforce his point, Vision runs his fingers lightly over her ribs, fascinated by the goosebumps that pop up along Wanda’s forearms.

“Then, if you’re sure,” She stands to move to the nearby bed, and he nearly complains about the loss of her closeness and heat until he realizes that the bare skin of her stomach is directly in front of his face. He leans forward and presses his lips to her hipbone, kissing along the velvet skin of her stomach until he reaches her other hip, where he lightly drags his teeth over the sharp ridge before he kisses it, open-mouthed and sloppy. He is in the presence of a goddess, he’s sure, and he won’t squander the gift of her nakedness. Wanda hums and caresses the top of his head, pressing her body closer to his mouth. Vision dwells there for a moment, then pulls away to grasp the cool, metal button of her jeans. He looks up at her before he does any more, but when she meets his eyes and nods, he quickly unfastens the button and lowers the zipper before peeling the denim away from her strong, lightly furred thighs. Once they’re around her knees, Wanda steps on the hems to pull them all the way down and kicks the empty denim aside.

Her legs are well-defined from hours of running drills and ops with the Avengers, and the skin there is just as soft as it is everywhere else on her body. She’s wearing black cotton panties, but Vision focuses on the sight of her long, bare legs, relishing every part of her that she shares with him. Strength covered with softness, just like her, Vision thinks, but his thoughts halt when Wanda’s hands come down to subconsciously rub at her legs.

“Sorry, I didn’t shave. I didn’t really expect this to happen today.” She smiles, but it is not her unburdened, carefree smile, it’s a pinched smile, one that could be given on command.

“Why would you be sorry?” Vision’s fingers graze over her thighs, and he’s amused at the ticklish sensations from the soft, light hair there.

“Women are taught to shave their legs once they start to grow hair there. Most people consider it gross if you don’t.”

Vision cocks his head in confusion. “But it’s a natural function of your body. I fail to understand that logic.” Vision stands to meet Wanda’s gaze, interlaces his fingers with hers, and kisses her passionately. “Besides, no part of you could ever be gross, my love.”

“I’m glad you think so. I didn’t shave anything else either.” Wanda laughs.

“Anything else?”

“Women also grow hair in their armpits and on their vulvas. We’re supposed to shave all that off, too.” Wanda blushes a little at her own frankness, but she’s mostly naked in front of the man she loves. What’s the point in modesty?

“How time-consuming. People have such strange customs.” Vision gently caresses her right upper arm with his index finger. “May I see?”

“Oh! Uhm, yes, of course.” Wanda hooks her thumbs in her underwear, but Vision stops her, laughing.

“I meant under your arms, Wanda. Forgive my curiosity.”

Wanda smiles brightly and raises her arms over her head so that her armpits are exposed. The movement lifts her breasts slightly, a fact that doesn’t escape Vision’s notice. “Nothing to forgive, ljubavi mova. It’s just not usually what people want to see when they get me this naked.” She smiles coyly.

“Fascinating.” He looks closer at Wanda’s underarms, then reaches out to touch the light brown hair there. Wanda clamps her arms down before he can reach, and he shifts back from her, confused. “Should I not have done that? I apologize, love.”

“No, no… it’s not wrong, exactly. It’s just that I’m horribly ticklish.” Seeing Vision’s confusion, Wanda begins to explain. “If you lightly touch people’s bodies in certain places, it makes our nerves respond strangely. It feels itchy, sort of? The sensation is called tickling. Most people respond by laughing, but I don’t care for the feeling. I should have warned you.”

“The more I learn about human bodies, the less I think I understand.” Vision says wryly while running his hands over Wanda’s arms. “As long as I haven’t offended you.”

Wanda stretches up onto her tiptoes and kisses him softly. “Not at all. You’re still learning.”

Vision kisses her back, and the passion from earlier seeps back into the touch, reigniting the fire of pleasure raging in both of them. Wanda loses herself in the feeling of his lips against hers, and Vision moves his hands from her arms to rest gently on the swell of Wanda’s ass. He’s done this other times they’ve kissed, but knowing that only a thin barrier of cotton separates his hands from Wanda’s skin rather than thick denim or buttery leather causes his heart to stutter in its beats. Slowly, he slides his hands from her voluptuous curves around to the front of her waist and dips his fingers below the black cotton. Wanda moans into his mouth, which spurs him to peel the fabric from her lower body and down her legs. Wanda rips her lips from his to step back and slide her underwear the rest of the way down and off her legs. She looks back up at him, meeting his eyes, and Vision’s mouth parts hungrily at the sight of her bare body in front of him.

He steps forward, closing the space between them, and Wanda steps back towards the bed, one corner of her mouth quirking up in a teasing smile. He steps forward again, and they continue this little dance until Wanda’s legs reach the edge of her bed. Vision wraps his arms around her and kisses her deeply as he lowers their entwined bodies to her soft grey comforter. He places his hands on her calves, savoring the feel of her soft skin beneath his own, and Wanda parts her legs breathlessly in anticipation of where his hands might go. Vision moves his hands over her inner thighs, moving between Wanda’s legs and setting his hands on her thighs before bending down to kiss the skin there. Wanda gasps at the gentle contact, keyed up by the slow pace they’ve taken to get to this moment.

“How can I please you best, Wanda?” Vision’s voice is deeper than usual, deeper than she knew it could be, and rough with tension.

“Touch me,” Wanda breathes, and takes his hand in hers to guide him towards her slick core past her thick, dark pubic hair towards her most intimate places. “I’ve wanted you to touch me like this for so long.” She blushes deeply, and Vision can see the blush extend down her neck to the edges of her collarbone. He leans forward, desperate to please, and nearly stops breathing as his fingers make contact with her wet flesh. Wanda moans, but manages to provide further guidance through the haze of her pleasure. “That’s the clitoris—it’s very sensitive. Try swirling your fingers, like this.” She moves their fingers together over her firm, wet nub, and her hips buck.

“Like this?” He asks huskily, and she nods tensely, withdrawing her fingers to clutch at the comforter and writhe with pleasure at his touch. Vision bends over her body to tenderly kiss the skin over her ribs, then in a moment of curiosity and inspiration, moves his mouth back to her breast and takes an erect, straining nipple into his mouth as he did before.

“Sranje, Vizh!” Wanda’s body jackknifes under his, and he feels a deep satisfaction at pleasing his Wanda, his goddess. “A little more pressure…”

He immediately complies, pressing more firmly against her clit, and Wanda’s thighs begin to shake and her stomach muscles tighten. Her back arches and she breathes his name as she reaches her peak. Vision’s seen Wanda in uncountable battles, in grief, content, awe, frustration, and yet, he thinks that Wanda finding pleasure at his touch may be the most beautiful way he’s seen her in his short life.

He doesn’t know if he should stop or continue touching her, so he continues to move his hand in gentler circles until she hisses at him to stop. Vision moves from between her legs to stretch out next to her, and she immediately curls into his side, still panting. He wraps his arms around her, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead as she comes down from her peak.

“Holy shit, Vizh.” Once she has her voice back, she looks up at him, grinning. “You take instruction well.”

“I take it that my performance was satisfactory?” He chuckles, and she lightly swats his chest. He shifts so that they lie on their sides, facing each other, and cradles her cheek in one hand. “Thank you for sharing yourself with me.”

“I think I should be the one thanking you, but you’re welcome, ljubavi mova.” Wanda’s hand comes to his cheek, mirroring his touch, and pulls him down to her for a passionate kiss before snuggling into his burgundy vibranium chest and closing her eyes. “Just so you know, people usually feel drowsy after orgasm. I will likely fall asleep on you soon.”

“I appreciate the warning, love.” Vision puts his arms around her, pulling him close to her. “Rest now. I’ll be here when you wake.” No sooner than he finishes speaking, her breathing deepens, and he holds her as she dreams.

Vision paces nervously in his room, adjusting and re-adjusting the hem of his navy sweater, brushing non-existent lint from his charcoal grey slacks. These clothes are some of his favorites, even if they’re not really clothes, but something he created with his molecules. This appearance is familiar, and it calms Vision’s nerves ever so slightly. He stops fussing with his appearance and sighs deeply.

Wanda said she would be over at 7:00 P.M., and the small, modern clock on his low nightstand reads 6:57 P.M. Vision thinks that perhaps he understands the theory of relativity in a way he never has before: each second wears on, and it feels as if years have passed by the time he hears Wanda’s signature staccato knock on his door. He rushes forward to open the door. Wanda’s smile is bright enough to light the entire compound, and his nervousness is momentarily forgotten when he looks into her eyes.

“Hello, my darling.” Vision smiles and gestures for her to come in. She does, and he closes the door behind her. She looks around his room curiously: she’s been in it before, but they often spend time in a common area or go to her room if they need time alone. He’s still working on making his space feel comfortable, like a home, and it’s often easier to go to Wanda’s room than puzzle through aesthetic decisions about his room.

“I like the painting.” She gestures to the Monet print on his wall, the one piece of decoration that he’d been able to decide on confidently.

“Thank you.” He twists his hands together and shifts his weight from foot to foot, practically broadcasting his nervousness. Wanda steps towards him and takes his fidgeting hands in hers. It was unlike him to not have kissed her at the door, and his tension is starting to make her nervous as well.

“You said you wanted to show me something?” She asks, and he swallows.

“Yes, I did.” Vision squeezes her hands and takes a steadying breath, even though he doesn’t require it. “I’ve been working on something… new, and I wanted your opinion.”

“That’s all? I thought something was wrong.” Wanda smiles at him and squeezes his hands. “What is it? I want to see.”

“It’s not a thing, exactly.” Vision sighs at her confused expression. “Trust me?”

“Always, Vizh.” Wanda leans up on her tiptoes to kiss him, never letting go of his hands.

Vision closes his eyes, concentrating on changing every molecule in his body. He is accustomed to making outfits appear on his body, but the base of his body always stays the same. This time, he is altering every molecule of his appearance, and it takes a large amount of effort. His skin tone changes first to a shade just slightly darker than Wanda’s, whose gasp of surprise makes him smile as he keeps working at the other changes. Once his skin has changed completely, he focuses on the hair, calling to mind the style and color he’d liked best. It itches as it sprouts from his head, but his lips quirk almost in laughter. He wonders absently if that’s the sensation Wanda had described as tickling.

Returning to the task at hand, he makes the last few changes easily and opens his eyes to meet Wanda’s shocked stare. She lets go of his right hand to touch his cheek, and he leans into her touch. Her fingers graze his cheek, run softly over his lips, trace the line of his jaw.

“How?” Her voice is a little unsteady, still shocked by the dramatic change in his appearance.

“I can alter my body’s molecules, which allows me to change my density or my appearance.” Vision pauses, shifting his weight nervously. “It’s the same principle that allows me to appear as if I’m wearing clothes.” When that fails to elicit a response from her, he clears his throat and continues. “Do you… like it?”

Wanda is still studying his face, and her unyielding stare makes him nearly frantic.

“I like you, Vizh. No matter what you look like.” Wanda smiles at him softly, and Vision feels a knot of tension break apart in his chest. Her hands come to his face, memorizing the feel of it. “I think the eyes are especially handsome, but they’re not very different from your eyes before.”

“Thank you.” He gently holds her forearms, and shock registers on her face again when she remembers he’d changed his entire body, not just his face. “I thought that changing my eyes too drastically would make me look too different.”

“Is this the only way you can appear?” Wanda asks, full of curiosity.

“No. I experimented with a number of variables when I was practicing this, like skin tone, height, weight, hair style, and gender.” Vision admits the last factor with a blush, and Wanda notes with amusement that when he looks like this, the tips of his ears burn scarlet when he blushes. He clears his throat and continues. “This is the appearance that feels the most authentic.” He looks into her eyes, smiling. “I could look different, if you would prefer.”

“No, no,” Wanda reassures him. “I like this look. I like it quite a lot, actually. I especially like it because it’s what you like, Vizh. I’m glad you found something that’s comfortable and feels good to you.”

Vision beams at that admission, and Wanda realizes his smile on this face is broader, more open, and it’s the most beautiful thing Wanda has ever seen. She loops her arms around his neck and pulls him down to her so that she can kiss his grinning lips, marveling at how this feels different, now. After they break apart, Vison straightens back to his full height and pulls her against him to hold her. His embrace, luckily, doesn’t feel different, and Wanda is glad for that. After everything and everyone she’s lost, Vision has become her home, and when his arms are around her, she feels safe and protected. He is her safe place to land, and if his embrace had felt different, she’s not sure it would feel like home. But then, it would be Vision’s embrace, and that would be what mattered, right?

Vision’s lips brush against her hair, and Wanda tightens her arms around him in response.

“You’re thinking very loudly, darling.” Vision murmurs, gently rubbing her back.

“I’m just very glad you’re still you under that pretty new face.” Wanda teases. Vision pulls back to look in her eyes, and he’s relieved to see genuine lightness there, not just defensive humor. Wanda tangles her fingers in his as she steps back to look at Vision from head to toe. He seems to be wearing a hunter green sweater and black slacks, and the hands peeking out from his sweater sleeves are the same pale peach as his face. “So, these changes… they’re everywhere?”

“I can make it look that way, yes.” Vision smiles. “Would you like to see?”

Wanda nods, feeling her mouth go dry. “Yes, please.”

Vision phases away the hunter green sweater, looking shyly at Wanda through light blond lashes. Wanda takes in the sight of his naked torso hungrily. Vision’s body is strong, but not overtly so: no bulging biceps or washboard abs here. His muscles are instead gentle hints of strength and grace. Soft blond hair dusts his chest, and Wanda finds herself reaching out to touch him before she even realizes what’s happening. She looks up at Vision, silently asking permission to touch, which he grants with a nod.

Her fingers brush the soft hair on his chest and Vision’s breath hitches. Her touch feels bright and sharp, like a shock, but it’s the most pleasurable shock he’s ever felt. Wanda grows bolder in her touches, moving her hands to his broad shoulders. Vision shivers. Wanda’s hands run down his strong arms, and he groans when he feels her small, dexterous hands slip up under his arms to grasp at his shoulders and draw his lips down to hers for a searing kiss. Vision wraps his arms around her and delights in the gentle rub of her cotton blouse against his skin. Every sensation is new. Every sensation is glorious, and he never wants this joyous discovery to end.

After a handful of these delicious moments have passed, Wanda’s hands move to the waist of Vision’s jeans. His brain fizzles to a halt, and his world narrows to the brush of Wanda’s fingers against his stomach, his hips.

“And here?” Wanda lifts one eyebrow coyly.

Vision’s sure that his systems will fail and he’ll pass out on the floor. When he’d created this appearance, he’d thought about what it would feel like to have Wanda touch him, to feel her hands on his body. All of his dreams were weak and pale compared to the real thing, and now that he’d had a taste of it, he never wanted to lose it. Would she think it was weird or wrong that he’d changed himself in this way? Would she think he’d done it only for her? Had he done it only for her?

His thoughts slow and quiet as Wanda caresses his cheek. A tendril of scarlet brushes against his mind, and he welcomes it, allowing her to see the fears he can’t express aloud.

“Now you are the one thinking loudly, ljubavi moja.” She smiles sweetly at him. “Your body is different, yes. But it’s still your soul under it all. That’s all that matters to me.” Wanda’s lips brush his own, soft at first, but with a simmering passion that feels as if it will boil over at any moment. Vision’s hands fall from Wanda’s waist to her ass, gently caressing the soft flesh as he deepens their kiss. Wanda moans and her hands go to the button of his jeans. She fumbles for a moment before remembering that the button is only there for aesthetic appeal and that Vision’s clothes are an extension of his own body.

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” Wanda laughs, and Vision laughs with her.

“Allow me?” He smiles wryly and phases away the rough denim to reveal his naked lower half. Wanda takes a half-step back to see him properly and finds that this part of his body is just as attractive as the rest of him. His legs are long and lightly muscled, with soft, dark blonde hair. She fights a strange compulsion to reach out and run her fingers through it, and she smiles at her own foolishness.

Drawing her gaze further up, she notices that Vision chose to forgo underwear of any kind, and his—her mind goes blank.

“I thought you didn’t have…?” Her voice trails off as she realizes the full implications of his new appearance.

Vision blushes. “I didn’t, before. I can alter my appearance,” he blushes deeply, “including creating or hiding certain aspects of my body.” He reaches up and touches his forehead absently, and she notices for the first time that the faint yellow glow is gone.

“Oh.” Wanda licks her lips and drops her gaze. His cock is only halfway hard—the technical aspects of their conversation had chilled the heat between them—but it’s impressive anyway. It seems slightly longer than average and perfectly thick. She aches to feel his silky hardness in her hand, but she resists the urge to simply reach out and touch. Wanda shifts her weight forward and gives his cock a final longing glance before bringing her eyes up to meet Vision’s.

“May I?” Her voice is low and sultry, and she’s not sure where this seductress’ voice has come from, but judging by the way Vision tenses in anticipation, it’s a wonderful thing to have discovered.

“Please,” he breathes, and Wanda grins. Her hand wraps around his cock and Vision’s entire body lurches with pleasure. She laughs a little before moving her hand up and down his cock in a gentle, but insistent rhythm. Vision keens and bends forward, bracing himself against Wanda’s shoulders. She smiles widely and keeps moving her hand, slightly increasing the speed of her motions as the seconds tick by.

“Wanda,” he breathes, “wait. Stop.” She immediately stops moving and brings her hand back to her side, looking alarmed.

“Vizh?” Her voice pitches with concern.

“If you kept doing that, I would have reached my climax far too quickly.” He grins as he tries to catch his breath. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.” He gently tugs the hem of Wanda’s shirt, calling attention to the fact that she is still fully clothed.

“Oh, I can fix that,” Wanda smirks at him and whips her shirt off over her head. Vision immediately descends on her exposed skin, kissing and biting her neck. She arches against him with a moan that sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through Vision’s veins. His mouth lingers at her neck, but his hands wander to her back, where they set to work on freeing Wanda’s breasts from her bra. The task, however, proves to be more difficult than he anticipated, and Wanda yelps as he accidently pinches her back.

“God, Wanda, I’m so sorry.” Vision apologizes, kissing her shoulder and smoothing his hands over her back.

“It’s all right, it was just a little pinch.” Wanda kisses his cheek before she turns her back to him. “Here, it’s easier at first if you can see.”

Vision lifts his now shaking hands to the clasp of her bra and slowly undoes the trio of hooks. Once they’re loose, he bends to kiss the bare skin of her back, and Wanda shivers. She lets the bra fall down her arms to the floor, then turns to Vision. As soon as he can, he bends and kisses her full lips passionately. She wraps her arms around his neck to return the kiss with equal passion, which sparks an idea in the small part of Vision’s brain that’s still thinking coherent thoughts. His hands wander down her soft curves to her ass as their kiss continues, and without warning, he lifts her up to his height. Wanda squeals in delight, wraps her legs around him, and keeps kissing him like her life depends on it. He laughs into her mouth and walks them toward his bed, carefully sidestepping their discarded clothes. Once they reach the bed, Vision lays her down gently, reverently, and attacks her breasts with his mouth, raining kisses down on Wanda’s soft flesh before taking each nipple in his mouth in turn. She writhes beneath him and starts to push her leggings down and off as much as she can. Vision reluctantly pulls back to help her peel off her leggings and panties and toss them aside.

He remains on his knees and drinks in the sight of her naked body beneath his. Their eyes meet, and the love in her gaze burns so brightly that it seems to illuminate the room around them. Carefully, he bends over her to kiss her.

“Hello.” Wanda reaches up and cards a hand through his golden hair.

“Well, hello.” He smiles down at her and kisses her lips before moving down to kiss her neck, her breasts, her belly. He backs up and lays himself flat on the mattress, his achingly hard cock trapped between his body and the soft cotton of his bedding.

“Vizh?” Wanda’s question is breathless, and he takes a moment to settle under her thighs so that her legs hang over his broad shoulders. He kisses the inside of each thigh before looking back up at her.

“May I?” The question comes out low and husky, and Wanda nods frantically in consent. Vision chuckles and snakes his hands over the tops of her thighs to gently coax her legs apart so that he can see her. A moment of shyness comes over him, and he freezes. What if he does this wrong? What if he can’t bring her pleasure? What if he hurts her somehow?

His thoughts are stopped by Wanda’s gentle caress. She props herself up on one elbow and reaches down to run her other hand through his hair and brush his fingers over his forehead where the Mind Stone rests, hidden.

“Vizh? Everything okay?” Wanda’s hand returns to his hair, and he rests his cheek against her inner thigh.

“I want to make this good for you. I made this appearance to test my abilities, yes, but I did primarily make it for you, for us. What if it’s… what if I’m not good enough?” He closes his eyes, trying to block out the painful, insecure confession he’s just made.

“Vizh.” Wanda’s tone brooks no nonsense, and she waits until he opens his eyes again to speak. “I want this. I want you, no matter what you look like or don’t look like. If it’s not good at first, we’ll talk about it and try again until we get this right between us because that’s people in love do.”

Vision inhales sharply, floored by the conviction in Wanda’s voice. She had so much trust in their bond, in their love, and it inspired him to have that same confidence. It was like she was standing at the edge of a cliff, reaching out her hand so that they could fly over the ledge together. Vision knows he would take her hand, would follow anywhere she led, as long as they were together, so he lifts his head to kiss her quickly, passionately, hoping that the kiss shows her the faith he has in her and in their relationship.

“I love you, Wanda. I love you,” Vision whispers against her lips before kissing them again. “So much.”

Wanda’s gaze is wide and serious as she searches Vision’s eyes, drinking in the way his heart burns through those icy blue eyes. “I love you, too. But if you don’t continue you where you left off, I might kill you.” Her voice has a teasing edge, and Vision smiles brightly at her.

“As my love commands.” He kisses her again before moving back down and repositioning himself at her core. “Tell me if I’m doing this wrong.”

Wanda nods, and he takes that as his cue to bend his head down and decide on a course of action. Every part of her looks delicious and he hardly knows where to begin. Before he can be trapped in indecision, he runs his tongue over her slit, gently teasing his tongue at her entrance.

“Fuck, Vizh!” Wanda swears and rolls her hips, which takes her sweetness away from his mouth before returning it to him. Vision decides this is quite a problem. He’d like to ravish her without interruption, so he lifts her legs back up over his shoulder and pins her hips to the mattress with his large, strong hands. Wanda does not object, so he returns to his ministrations. He licks her again, enjoying the moan it brings before he places a filthy, open-mouthed kiss over her sex. Wanda gasps sharply and threads both hands through his hair as Vision begins to eat her out in earnest, remembering all the advice he’d read and watched, but as the seconds and moments go by, nothing seems to bring about the reactions he had been expecting. Just as Vision is about to give up, Wanda gently tugs on his hair, guiding his head slightly up and to the right.

“A little more…” Vision follows where she leads him, and suddenly realizes his error. He’d been neglecting Wanda’s swollen clit, and he can’t believe he’s made such a basic mistake. He makes up for it by sucking the soft nub. Wanda explodes, swearing vehemently. This was what he’d wanted—to bring her pleasure so intense that she loses herself in it. He continues sucking and teasing her clit until Wanda’s thighs begin to quake against his ears. Vision releases her clit with a soft pop, which makes Wanda whine at the loss of his mouth. Her displeasure doesn’t last long: Vision drags the flat of his tongue over her opening and swirls her clit around with his tongue before drawing it back into his mouth.

“Sranje, Vizh!” Wanda moans and rolls her hips in the small circles that Vision’s grip will allow. Vision tastes a little flood of her sweetness and lets go of her right leg to free his hand. Cautiously, he presses one finger into her, and it pushes Wanda over the edge. She comes shouting his name and Vision knows he could stay between her legs for days, worshipping her with his hands and tongue. Vision keeps his mouth on her and finger inside her until she tugs on his hair, letting him know she’s had enough.

Vision sets her left leg down and comes onto his knees, then stretches himself over her and steadies his weight on his elbows. The full press of their naked bodies together makes him moan, distracting him from his original goal of kissing Wanda senseless.

“Oh my god, Vizh.” Wanda’s hands move from his hair to rest on his broad shoulders, which brings him back to reality. “Where did you even learn that?”

“The Internet can be horribly misleading, but on occasion, it is incredibly informative.” He grins at her and kisses her deeply, moaning when her tongue slides past his lips into his mouth to tangle with his own. When they finally pull apart, they stay still for a moment, staring deep into the other’s eyes.

“I want you inside me, Vizh. I want to feel our bodies together.” Wanda bites her kiss-swollen lip a little shyly after her bold admission, but he just smiles at her.

“I want that too, Wanda. So much.” He kisses the hard swell of her collarbone before pushing up onto his hands to hold himself over her.

“We don’t need protection, right?” Wanda asks. “I’m clean, and we can’t… we don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant, so we should be good, unless you want to use…”

Her ramble is cut off with a kiss. “We’re safe, Wanda, unless you’d feel safer with one. I did plan for that eventuality and obtained some condoms, if you’d like.”

“No, no,” her hand falls to his cheek and stays there. “I want to feel all of you, ljubavi moja.”

Her words spark the desire that’s been growing between them and his lips crash into hers as they practically devour each other. Finally, Vision breaks their fevered kisses and reaches down to guide himself into her warmth. At the first brush of his hard cock against her slick heat, he loses control and thrusts against her, sliding over her lower lips and nudging her clit. They both groan at the sensation, and Vision indulges in the soft, teasing touches until Wanda’s voice cuts through the haze of pleasure clouding his thoughts.

“Vizh, please,” She begs, and it is nearly his undoing to hear her say his name while they touch like this. He rolls his hips back and gently guides himself into her wet heat. As the head of his cock slides inside her, Vision fights the urge to come right away. He’d imagined their bodies like this so many times, but his fantasies were pale, dull dreams compared to the feel of her wet heat wrapped around him. When he’s sure that he won’t climax right away and spoil the whole thing, he pushes further inside her, filling her slowly until he’s filled her completely.

Vision’s gaze meets Wanda’s, and the world stops. There’s nothing beyond the feel of their bodies joined together, and the moment they settle into this blissful isolation, Vision feels as if he’s flying through space and time. Reality seems to melt away—or does everything feel more real? – as he gives in to the urge to pull his hips back and thrust forward again. He sets a steady rhythm, rocking into Wanda’s body like the ebb and flow of the tide, and it’s the most alive he’s ever felt.

Their gazes never leave the other’s, even as Wanda’s hips roll up to meet his thrust for thrust. Vision steels himself against an early climax, but when Wanda whispers his name in a low, breathy voice, he knows that he can’t hold out much longer. Wanda’s magic brushes his mind, and he welcomes her into his thoughts openly. When their minds meet, he gasps. Vision feels his pleasure as well as hers, and they come together, unable to withstand the white hot supernova of their shared ecstasy.

Vision thinks nothing, feels nothing, for several long moments, but as his orgasm subsides, he becomes aware of Wanda’s ragged breathing. She stretches up to kiss him softly, and they chase away the post-orgasm fog with gentle kisses and touches. Vision gently pulls out of her, and Wanda whimpers at the loss. He rolls onto his side and gathers her close, kissing her hair. Wanda nuzzles into his chest, and her breathing slows as her body comes down from its high.

“That,” Vision says hoarsely, “was incredible.”

“You can say that again.” Wanda yawns and snuggles closer. “I didn’t think we would have this, but I’m really glad that we do.” She presses a cluster of kisses to his chest, and Vision’s heart swells at the gesture.

“Me too.” They both laugh a little, and Wanda slides one leg loosely between his to wrap their bodies together. They lay together in silence, treasuring the exquisite peace that comes after sharing body and mind with the person you love. Finally, Wanda breaks the spell by propping herself up on one elbow to gaze into Vision’s eyes.

“I love you, Vision.” Wanda’s eyes start to glimmer with unshed tears, and he looks up at her with concern. “I thought after Pietro died, I would be alone forever. It hurt so much to lose him that I thought I would never be able to let anyone in again.” Vision sits up to meet Wanda’s eyes and takes her hands in his. “And then you came along, and I didn’t even have to let you in. You just were there, and you found your way into my heart before I even realized what happened.” She smiles at him and tries to blink back tears, but ultimately fails. Vision lifts his hands to her face and cups her cheeks so he can use his thumbs to wipe away her tears.

“I love you too, Wanda. I cannot imagine this existence without you.” His voice is raw with emotion, unable to put everything he wants to say to her into words. Vision guides her head towards his and leans forward to gently press his forehead to hers. Her small hands wrap around his wrists and she relaxes into the intimate touch. Slowly, he phases away the golden blonde hair, the pale pink skin, until his normal appearance returns and the Mind Stone glows yellow again, slightly muted where Wanda’s forehead rests against it. Her scarlet magic wraps around the stone, and Vision falls into the soft, secure feelings of love and peace coming from her mind and returns them as strongly as he’s able.

They stay there, foreheads pressed together and breaths synchronized, sharing each other’s minds until sleep gnaws at the edges of Wanda’s thoughts. Vision pulls her into his arms and slowly lowers them to the bed below, holding Wanda as she dreams. The last thought he sends to her is a quiet whisper: You are my dream, and it isn’t long before Vision is lulled to his own rest by the feeling of his love in his arms.

#scarlet vision exchange 2018 #sve2018 #scarlet vision #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #vision

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artemisegeria · 6 years ago

Text

Interlude

Title: Interlude

Bonus Gift For: @mrhiddles and @andhewonherheart

Rating: G

Word count: 2,241

Summary: Vision surprises Wanda with a visit during their two years of stolen moments.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16044377

Message for Recipients: Hello, I hope you enjoy this piece of unashamed fluff where Vision and Wanda get to be happy like they deserve.

Made for the Scarlet Vision Exchange 2018!

A/N-- Written for the prompt: “I would like any gift of them being happy.” Also inspired by this concept art. Many thanks to @anonthenullifier for beta’ing.

I apologize if there are any errors in my description of the Hanukkah celebration. All of my knowledge of the holiday comes from brief mentions of friends and internet research.

Wanda felt something unmistakable. She spoke briefly into her comm. “I thought I saw something around the corner. I’m just gonna check it out.”

She hurried into the alley with her heart hammering. “Vizh!” She found him leaning casually against the wall. “What are you doing here?” The familiar red skin and subdued vibranium greeted her as she stepped into the deeper shadows, leaning toward him. The sight never failed to warm her, despite his unexpected appearance and the possibility of discovery.

“Tony sent me on a last-minute errand, and I knew that you would be here, according to your last text message. So, I took the liberty of making a stop.” Vision looked at her so hopefully that her heart caught in her chest. She hadn’t expected to see him for a month or more, and it thrilled her that he was right in front of her.

But there was a problem. “The others are just across the street.” She looked both directions over her shoulder before she turned back to him. “I can’t stay long.”

His smile collapsed into a frown. “Will you be able to get away again? Tony does not expect me until the beginning of next week.”

“Probably not until tomorrow afternoon.”

“I will look forward to our meeting tomorrow then.” Vision leaned forward and swept a strand of hair behind her ear. “I will send you directions to where I am staying.” He looked like he was about to say something else, but she could hear the voices of her teammates in her ear.

Wanda felt her lips tilt into a slight, wry smile. “We never have enough time,” she said ruefully. “I have to go before they come looking for me.” He nodded before leaning down to press a brief kiss to her lips. Pulling away, she murmured, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He raised a hand in farewell and phased away.

She returned to her teammates, trying to school her face into a serious expression suitable to a mission.

Wanda knocked softly on the door that Vision had identified in his email. He opened the door just a crack. “Wanda, come in, but please close your eyes.” She raised an eyebrow but complied. He took her hand to lead her inside. He brought her to the bed and encouraged her to sit. “I apologize; my tasks took longer than anticipated, and I am behind schedule. Wait here a few minutes, please.”

She sighed as she sank gratefully into the soft mattress and fluffy bedspread. “It’s okay, Vizh. It feels good to just sit. I was training with the others all morning.”

Vision asked, “Where did you tell them you would be?” His voice came from farther away. She wished she could watch him work, but she respected his wishes and kept her eyes firmly closed.

“We actually decided to go our separate ways early. I’m not expected anywhere for a few weeks.” Wanda felt a broad smile spread across her face at the thought that she was free to enjoy Vision’s presence for at least two full days. She could hear the clink of dishes as he worked in what was presumably the kitchen and wondered what he was making.

He finally returned to her. His fingers wrapped around hers. He pulled her up and wrapped an arm around her waist as he drew her toward the table. Wanda couldn’t help but bounce on her toes out of growing impatience. She shivered when Vision whispered in her ear, “Alright. Thank you for indulging me. You can open your eyes now.”

She did not speak for several moments, and time seemed to stretch out around them. When she turned her face up to him, she braced her hands against his chest and kissed his cheek. Her smile only grew wider. She felt the tension drain out of Vision, to be replaced by joy that he could make her look like that. “This is wonderful, Vizh, but you didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

Wanda gestured to the Happy Birthday banner that was carefully hung on the wall with non-stick hooks and perfectly level. Her eyes traveled from the balloons to the red, white, and blue confetti to the small, tabletop Christmas tree.

“I wanted to. Our time together is unreliable and unpredictable. I thought it would be beneficial to simply celebrate a number of holidays for this year at once.” The words left him in a rush, as if he were nervous about her reaction. Wanda smiled at him again.

She was still a little flabbergasted at everything he’d done. “Did you have a plan in mind about how we would celebrate?”

“I had thought that we would celebrate in chronological order if that is amenable to you.”

“Absolutely,” Wanda assured him. Vision leaned down and kissed her cheek. He pulled out a chair for her and sat across from her at the small kitchen table. “Paprikash…” When she looked at her bowl, she felt her smile take on the fixed quality that it had when he had asked a particularly outlandish question shortly after his creation. “Thanks, Vizh.”

He smirked at her. “Don’t worry. It should be much better than the last time I attempted to make it. I have been practicing. And I triple checked that I was using paprika.” Wanda took a tentative bite, and her smile became real. He beamed as she took several more bites with evident enjoyment.

“How much have you been practicing?” Wanda teased. “I’d never believe you made this.”

“I will choose to take that as a compliment.”

She looked up, flushing slightly, but she relaxed when she saw that his expression had not shifted. “You should. This is excellent.” She finished the rest of her paprikash. “What’s next?”

“I prepared an Easter egg hunt similar to the one that Tony planned two years ago.” She felt a pang as she remembered the day when Clint’s family showed up at the compound, and they were all running and laughing and happy. “There are twenty eggs hidden throughout the room.” Vision handed her a basket. She began walking around the rented apartment. She searched in the kitchen cupboards, behind some picture frames that were standing on an end table, and even in the outer pocket of his duffel bag.

She pouted at him. “Are there really eggs hidden?” She could easily find out where Vision had hidden them, but that would take all the fun out of it. Besides her pride was at stake.

“I assure you that there are.” Wanda relished the amusement in his eyes. “You simply have not looked in the correct places yet.”

She redoubled her efforts. Despite her slight frustration, a carefree joy was growing in her as she found the first egg behind the cushions of the small couch in the corner of the room. She moved on to pull out the drawers from the nightstands.

Eventually Wanda found the eggs that Vision had hidden around the bed. Then the ones in the bathroom, on the windowsill behind the curtains, and those she had missed in the kitchen. She grinned in triumph when she found the final egg hidden in a large potted plant.

Vision smiled at her. “Well done. Are you ready to move on to the next holiday?” She nodded, and he handed her a box that he had set aside on the kitchen counter. “Here are sparklers in honor of the Fourth of July, or Captain Rogers’s birthday, whichever occasion you prefer.” She appreciated his accommodation. She was still not enthusiastic about celebrating the country that had turned on her or the large-scale fireworks that accompanied it, but she did greatly enjoy the festivities the team had for the holiday the year she was with them. Even while on the run the previous year, they had tried to copy the party for Steve’s birthday.

They walked out onto the patio that adjoined the studio. Vision brought out a lighter while she carried the sparklers. He placed the flame against her sparkler, which she waved with abandon. He lit his own, and Wanda smiled at his fascination with the paths of light that his sparkler created.

They burned through several more sparklers. Twirling around each other. Creating patterns in the air. Enjoying their freedom. This was true liberty and independence. Being alone with the man she loved and free to be completely herself, not worrying about the next hideout or mission. She started laughing out of sheer joy, and Vision’s rich chuckle mingled with hers.

The only slight pall over her joy was the fact that Vision had to remain disguised to maintain their anonymity, but it was necessary for the moment. She still dreamed of the day that such hiding would be optional.

After a few more minutes, Wanda let him lead her back inside. He settled her in an armchair and carried over a box that he had hidden in his bag. “Please open this next.” She pulled off the blue and white paper. She smiled as she removed the small silver menorah inlaid with blue and white stones that the team had given her the year she joined the Avengers. Vision gestured back to the box. “There are several more items in the bottom of the box.” She drew out the gold foil wrapped chocolate gelt and the dreidel she’d received with the menorah.

Wanda asked, “Are we going to play the game I showed everyone a couple years ago?” He nodded. It had been one of the first moments that she had truly embraced becoming part of the team in more than just Avenging, only a precious few months after her brother’s death. She divided the gelt between them, placing the dreidel in the middle of the coffee table. She spun the dreidel first. It landed so that she was forced to place half of her chocolate into the central pot.

When it was Vision’s turn, his spin granted him the entire pot. However, in the next few rounds, Wanda won so many pieces that Vision only had two pieces left. It took only a few more turns for Wanda to win the rest.

“Congratulations,” he conceded. He returned to his bag and took out the candles he had stored there. He handed some to Wanda, and they placed them in the menorah. The light from the candles matched the warm glow that was building in her chest.

She led him through the prayers that went along with the candle lighting. She recognized that her observance of the holiday was far from perfect, but it was nice to have a piece of her heritage back. They took a few moments to simply appreciate each other’s company and enjoy the silence.

As the candles burned lower, she looked up at Vision expectantly. “Now that we have completed the candle lighting, Christmas is next and last.” He led her back to the kitchen table to sit in front of the miniature tree. “Open your eggs please.”

Wanda opened the first egg, delighting in what she found inside. “Ooh, this is so pretty, Vizh!” She held up a tiny ornament in the shape of a snowflake. Vision’s smile, which had not left his face since they took out the sparklers, only grew wider as she pushed half of her eggs toward him.

Once they finished decorating the tree, Vision removed two boxes from his jacket pocket and handed them to her. “More?” Wanda felt a blush climbing up her cheeks.

“The celebration of Christmas could not be complete without gifts.”

She opened the box and pulled back the tissue paper to reveal a necklace with a silver chain and a black circular pendant, etched with a curlicue design. “I saw this at a market in Delhi, and I thought you would like it.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” He handed her the other box. The necklace inside was a black cord that bore a single gray pearl flanked by two smaller beads. “Where did you find this one?”

“I made it myself.” No one had ever done something like that for her. “I bought the pearl in French Polynesia when I was following a lead as to your whereabouts. It was lovely there.”

“I’ll try to convince the rest of the team that there are arms dealers to foil there some time.” Wanda stepped toward him. “And next time we meet, I’ll have some Christmas presents for you.” She could practically hear Vision’s protests as he opened his mouth to speak, but she put a finger to his lips. “I think there’s one more holiday we need to celebrate.”

She recognized the whir in his thoughts from something not going to plan. “Which one is that?”

“New Year’s Eve,” Wanda said. “Let’s pretend it’s 11:59 pm.” Vision looked confused for a moment, but she saw his realization as he remembered the New Year’s Eve party from the year they had both joined the Avengers. He placed his hands on her hips as she smiled up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. They swayed against each other, counting down. “Ten, nine, eight…” She leaned her head against him. “Seven, six, five, four…” She raised up on her toes. “Three, two, one. Happy New Year, Vizh,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him soundly.

Imaginary or not, this was an excellent way to start the year.

#scarletvisionexchange2018 #sve2018 #wanda maximoff #vision #scarlet vision #fanfiction

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alittlesliceofcucumber · 6 years ago

Text

A Vision Of A Wedding

Title: A Vision Of A Wedding For: Katie @whynotcallitvanda Rating: G Word Count: 4,331 Warnings: None Summary: Wedding planning isn't as easy as it seems, as Wanda and Vision found out. A story about the events leading up to their big day.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048253 Fanfiction.net Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13071034/1/

Message for recipient: Hi! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope that you enjoy it! It’s set as if the events of Infinity War never happened, and (realistically) in 2020 but it can be imagined as happening whenever you like.

Made for the Scarlet Vision Exchange 2018!

A Vision Of A Wedding

It was a beautiful Hungarian summer sunrise.

The sky was layered pink and red, like streaks of paint on a canvas. The sun was emerging from behind the tall trees and shining between the leaves, illuminating the grand, floral arch and the tall figure who stood in front of it.

Vision was nervous to say the least. Not only was he about to marry the woman of his dreams, yet there was an unspoken tension in the gardens.

But their friends were all gathered here for their wedding and nothing else.

“Psst, Vizh! Stop messing with your tie!”

Vision swiftly spun around to face the table where Tony Stark was seated. He had, in fact, been fiddling with his tie for a while now. He wanted it to be proportioned perfectly, and since Wanda had insisted on him wearing a physical suit rather than one he’d phased himself, he found himself constantly adjusting it.

He then turned towards Thor who gave him an encouraging wink and a thumbs up. Although he looked very out of place in his large suit, there was hardly any other competition for the role of best man. In Vision’s eyes, Thor truly was the best man.

Next to catch his gaze was Steve. It was lucky that the super soldier was able to perform weddings; a skill he had been given back in his day. He was glancing at his watch. Steve was eager for the ceremony to take place the around dawn so that he didn’t draw too much attention to himself and his team.

The seating plan was arranged well. Vision and his fiancé had spent hours organising it together, hoping to avoid as much conflict as possible.

Sitting around the table closest to the altar were Tony and Pepper Stark, Bruce Banner, James Rhodes and Peter Parker. Vision believed that they were all somewhat family to him, and insisted that they sat together.

Next was Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, with three places that were reserved for Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton. Wanda thought that these people would feel most comfortable with each other. With the one exception of Sam and Bucky, but that couldn’t be helped. They hadn't caused a scene just yet.

The remaining tables were filled by Asgardians (whom Thor insisted on bringing along for “educational purposes”) and another alien who appeared to be made of rocks. Vision knew better than to question it.

His fellow Avengers, however, seemed to glance back at one particular Asgardian. He had been informed that he was Thor’s (adopted) brother, Loki. So Vision had done his research and had soon found the reason for everyone’s uneasiness.

And consequently kept an eye on him too.

The sun had risen quite high when the car finally arrived. It was self-driving, provided by none other than Tony Stark himself.

First to exit was Clint. He looked surprisingly dashing in a suit, something he was presumably used to wearing as a family man. He probably attended many school events for his children and nights out with his...

Vision felt the world around him screech to a halt as Wanda emerged from the car.

She looked absolutely stunning. She wore a loose white dress with scarlet trim which fell down to her ankles. She wore a gold locket encrusted with a circular ruby (one Vision had chosen for her himself). The sleeves of the dress possessed a pink floral print, which Vision recognised as cherry blossom. Her outfit was beautiful whilst also practical, very much like Wanda herself.

She caught his eye, and the pair shared a look of pure joy.

Wanda felt a rush of happiness when she first caught sight of Vision. He wore a fitting suit which contrasted with the colour of his skin. In her eyes, he was the definition of perfection. His mere seemed presence begged her to approach.

As if in a trance, she felt her feet glide towards him. With her arm in Clint’s, she locked eyes with Vision, focusing on nothing but the man she loved. The man she was about to marry.

Once she reached the altar, she smiled at the (obviously quite nervous) Vision.

Upon admiring her once more, he stuttered “Y-you, er, you look…”

“Decent?” She prompted. “Beautiful.” He replied.

She allowed herself a small giggle. “Says the handsome man in front of me.” She said.

He grinned in return, and the pair turned towards Steve, who nodded at their signal to begin.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of two people who deserve all the happiness this world has to offer. They were burdened by our mistakes, and I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we were too blind by our own goals to even consider your lives. On behalf of everyone here, I’m sorry.”

“If anyone here knows any reason that these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Wanda looked at the guests anxiously, and was relieved to see only smiling faces.

Steve, too, was smiling. “All in favour for this marriage?”

The “Aye”s weren’t in sync, but they were loud enough to portray their point. Or that may actually have been just Thor.

“Great, in that case, are you two ready?”

“Yes.” The pair replied, without looking away from each other.

“Alright then. Wanda Maximoff, do you take Vision to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you love and comfort him, through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, and to be faithful to him at all times?”

She didn’t even register the words that tumbled out of her mouth.

“I do.”

Steve then turned to Vision.

“Vision…”

Steve glanced cautiously at Tony, who nodded back at him. The genius was beaming with pride.

“...Stark, do you take Wanda to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you love and comfort her, through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, and to love and be faithful to her at all times?”

“I do.”

“Now it’s time for the exchanging of vows. Wanda?”

Wanda forced her eyes away from Vision in order to unfold the piece of paper hidden in her sleeve.

“Vision, from the moment I first saw you in that cradle I felt connected to you. At first I thought it was because of the stone in your head, but then I realised it was something more. As I got to know you I felt myself drawn to you. Every day you save the world. But you are my world, Vizh. And I promise to love you for as long as I am alive.”

Suddenly her vision became clouded and she felt the need to bite her bottom lip. Her lover brushed the tears away before they had the chance to fall.

“My darling Wanda.” Vision began, having memorised his vow by heart. “Whenever I used to see my reflection, I saw a servant for humanity. I saw myself bound by duty for this planet. But now, I feel as if I am bound to you. You helped me to accept who I am, and I can only hope I can help you do the same. If I were to look at my reflection now, I would see the luckiest man in the universe. I love you, Wanda.”

The two looked at each other, thinking about how far they had come to reach this point.

It was a very long journey indeed.

9 months earlier...

Paris was known throughout the world for being the city of romance, therefore the sight of lovers walking together on the streets was no spectacle to behold. On that particular evening, however, one couple didn’t quite fit in. To the ordinary eye, they were a normal couple enjoying the sights. But they were so much more.

Two troubled souls desperate to break away from their lives. Desperate to escape the seemingly never-ending conflict in the world. Desperate to be normal.

Wanda Maximoff was burdened with a traumatic past. Her twin brother was murdered by a robot. Her parents were killed by a bomb created by billionaire Tony Stark...

...who also happened to be her boyfriend’s father figure.

It’s funny, how life works its magic like that. If she had been asked if she had any interest in that awkward, purple synthezoid before she gained her powers she would have instantly denied.

But the more she got to know the Vision, the more she slowly felt herself be pulled towards him.

The way he was awed by everyday things. The way he attempted to cook for her. The way he would find activities to do together when she was sad. The way he was ready to sacrifice everything for her in a synthetic heartbeat..

Even then, in his human disguise wearing a casual shirt (which she had handpicked for him) he gazed with wonder at every little nook and cranny of the city. It made Wanda’s heart flutter every time she watched him.

Maybe that was what lead her to her crazy decision.

“Hey Vizh,” she said, dragging him to a corner of the sidewalk.

“Yes, darling?” Vision replied, smiling at Wanda’s enthusiasm.

“Do you know what day it is?” She asked with a cheeky grin.

Vision visibly contemplated the question, assessing whether it was a trick or a joke. It wasn’t everyday that such a trivial question would be asked to a man whose brain was literally made up of the internet.

“Today is Saturday the 29th of February. Leap day.” He answered. Upon seeing Wanda’s mischievous expression, he added “Why do you ask?” with an edge of playful suspicion.

“Do you know what happens today?” “I must admit that I do not. Should I?”

This is it! Thought Wanda, as she carefully planned her next words.

“Traditionally, today is the day that women propose to men. And if the man refuses, he has to buy her 12 pairs of gloves.”

The adorable look of genuine confusion on Vision’s face made Wanda’s heart skip a beat. Her plan was successful thus far.

Without giving him a chance to respond, she fell onto one knee. She felt adrenaline pumping through her veins. It was a pleasant feeling, not unlike her own powers.

Vision looked at her, his face a mixture of messages. She briefly skimmed his mind to try and solve his expression, where she found he was conflicted. He was overjoyed, yet begging her to change her mind. To rethink.

It was not going to happen.

“So Vision, will you marry me?”

“Well, look who finally decided to show up!”

Vision hadn’t even fully entered the lab when he was greeted by Tony. It was almost a routine at this point. Vision would turn off his transponder and Tony wouldn’t inquire about it. Unless there was an emergency, in which case Vision would come back immediately as instructed. That was the unofficial deal between them. Vision was entitled to privacy.

The lab was far messier than it had been when he’d left it. He would often clean up after the scientists when he was in the compound as he had little else to do. Bruce would usually try to keep things organised, but today was an exception.

Judging by the way Tony Stark was frantically typing on his keyboard, Vision could only assume that the pair had made a breakthrough.

“Mr Stark, please may I have a word?” he asked, taking care to phrase the question so that Tony would pick up the hint.

Luckily, he did.

“You’ve had eight, but sure. Bruce, would you give us a minute?”

Dr Banner turned around from where he was working and looked at Tony quizzically, before shrugging and leaving without a word.

“What’s up?” Said Tony, not looking away from his computer screen.

Vision felt his body tremble, but it was in fact as still as ever. This feeling was familiar. Nervousness. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He said

“I’m flattered, but I’m a married man. You’d have to talk it out with Pepper.” Joked Tony. After getting no reaction from Vision, he mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “tough crowd” and focused back on his work.

“Mr Stark, do you think of me as human?”

Vision watched as Tony tensed and slowly spun on his chair to face him. He was thankful for the sudden absence of the clicking of the keyboard so that they could have a serious conversation. They looked at each other for a little while, before the man let out a sigh.

“Look, I’m going to be honest with you. No I don’t.” Tony said.

Vision’s limbs suddenly felt very heavy, and the world around him seemed to slow down. Was it anger? No, he would feel the urge to destroy something. It was more like... disappointment.

“But that’s only ‘cause I helped make you. I know your circuits and stuff, and you remind me too much of JARVIS. So no, I don’t think you’re human. Then again, I don’t think Thor’s human either. But he is a person, and so are you, that goes without saying.”

Vision found some comfort in his creator’s words.

Tony spun back towards his computer and resumed typing. It was now or never, Vision decided.

“So if I were to marry Wanda…”

This time, the silence was deafening. Tony froze and Vision braced himself for… something. Anger, shame, guilt- anything that would be directed at him.

Wanda had always mentioned wanting to swap powers so that she could phase out of awkward situations. She would literally let the floor swallow her up. Vision suddenly understood why this would come in useful.

“Say what now?”

The pause had been smaller than he had expected, lasting only a few seconds. “I mean, would you give me your blessing if I were to get married?” Vision repeated, suddenly thinking better of mentioning Wanda straight away.

Tony let out a sound akin to a snicker. Which grew into a chuckle. Which evolved into a laughing fit. He began to laugh so hard that Vision was genuinely worried.

It ended far too quickly.

“Wait- you’re serious?”

Vision, who’s expression hadn’t changed since his declaration, simply nodded.

The billionaire let out a sigh, and slowly rose from his chair to face the synthezoid. He placed a hand on his shoulder (Vision bent his knees ever so slightly) and smiled warmly.

“Bruce owes me $10.” “It was that obvious?” “You’re new to all this. And yeah, it was. Come on, turning off your tracker, coming back in a really good mood... Even Bruce could tell.”

Tony grinned up at Vision. Vision smiled briefly in return before his expression melted into a frown, and he stepped backwards.

“You know that you’re supposed to be happy, right?” Said Tony, quickly growing concerned.

“I don’t know.” “Come on, tell me what you’re thinking.”

Vision stood still and proceeded to look Tony in the eye. He rarely voiced his thoughts to the billionaire, as that role was reserved for Wanda. But there were some things that he simply couldn’t tell her. Some things that could only his creator could understand.

“It feels wrong. It feels wrong to marry her. You’re right, I’m not human and I never will be. She deserves someone she can love fully, someone she can spend her life with- create a family with. I cannot give her that. She will grow old and I will remain as I am. I don’t want her to have to go through that-”

Tony watched in silence as Vision listed numerous reasons why he shouldn’t marry the woman he loved. It was undeniable that all of his points were true and well thought out, but Tony couldn’t tell him that. They worked in a dangerous business, one where every day was a matter of life and death. It had taken him too long to propose to Pepper Potts, and he was not going to let the Vision make the same mistake.

“If you had this many doubts, then why did you propose to this girl in the first place?” He asked.

“...Actually it was Wanda who proposed to me.”

Tony snorted. He then sighed and outstretched his arms for a hug. Vision had only ever been offered a hug by Wanda, so he awkwardly shuffled into the genius’s arms. Their small embrace seemed to settle his doubts. He should have pulled away sooner, yet somehow he was satiated. Relieved. Soothed.

“You’ll be fine.” Said Tony firmly, stepping back. “You’re growing up, Vizh. It’ll be good for you.”

Without warning the lab door opened and Bruce emerged.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I just had to check if it the program synced yet.” He said apologetically.

Tony rubbed his hands together in sudden delight. “Forget it!” He said. “We’ve got a wedding to arrange!”

“Wait, wedding? Who’s wedding?”

Vision immediately turned to Tony to try and stop him from-

“Vision’s marrying the Maximoff girl.”

Telling Bruce.

If Dr Banner’s eyes had widened any further, they would have popped right out of his skull. “Wa-Wanda? Vision is getting married to Wanda? You’re getting married to Wanda?”

Bruce ran a hand through his hair.

“Great, isn’t it?” Tony smirked.

Bruce wasn’t amused.

“Oh no, no no no. Tony, are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked in a hushed voice, as if Vision couldn’t hear him. He could. Every single word. Each word was a stab to his synthetic heart.

Tony gave Bruce a pointed look.

“‘Course it is. Now come on, we’ve got to make some calls. This wedding isn’t gonna plan itself!”

Ring ring! Ring ring!

Wanda looked down at the crumpled bit of paper in her hand and prayed that the number was right. She had already encountered a wrong one and didn’t want to make the day any more awkward than it was going to be.

Her worries increased when a child’s voice answered the phone.

“Hello?”

She knew that Clint had children, so she thought there was no harm in continuing the call.

“Hi there! Please may I speak to your Dad?” “Sure!”

Wanda heard shuffling on the other side. And then the beautiful sound of children’s laughter. She couldn’t help but reminisce on the times she had played with Pietro when they were younger. A time that was ripped away from them far too soon.

She felt relief wash over her as Clint’s voice finally answered the phone.

“Uh, hello?” “Clint! It’s Wanda!” “Wanda? How did you get this number?”

She felt slightly guilty to be the cause of Steve betraying Clint’s trust. But her reason was important. Besides, it had been a long time since she’d talked to Clint and she had begun to miss him quite a lot.

“Steve gave it to me. I just wanted to ask if we could meet.” “Why? Has something happened?!”

His voice was suddenly drowned with concern. Classic Clint. Joking around one second, prepared to fight to the death in the other. He would do anything for his family, not all of which he was related to by blood. Wanda hoped that he would consider this when he answered her question.

“No, no. I just wanted to ask you something.” “If you just wanted to ask me something then you could just do it now, seeing as you went through all the trouble to get this number.” “No… I would rather do it face to face.”

Truthfully, she wanted to be able to skim his mind to see if his reaction was genuine.

“Look, you gotta understand that it’s not that easy for me to just drop everything and leave anymore. My kids are growing up, Nathan’s starting school… I don’t wanna miss out on anything else. I want to be the Dad they deserve.”

“Would you walk me down the aisle?”

“Yeah, eventually. When Lila’s old enough. Still got quite a while to go thou- wait what? Walk you down the aisle?!”

Wanda could hear the faint voice of a woman down the phone.

“What was that, Clint?” “Nothing honey!”

Wanda suppressed a laugh at his sudden change of tone. “I’m planning to married this fall.” She said.

“Wanda, that’s great! Who’s the lucky guy?”

This was the question that Wanda had secretly been dreading. The last time Clint had met Vision had been in battle, and that hadn’t been pleasant for either of them. The rest of the group had been slightly sceptical at first, but had soon warmed up to the identity of Wanda’s fiancé and were eagerly helping to plan the wedding.

But Clint’s approval was the most important one she needed.

“Vision.”

A painful pause.

“Oh uh… you did think this through right?” “Of course.” “And he can’t have s-” “I know.” “And he’s a… uh…” “He’s a what, Clint? A robot?”

She had heard the questions so many times that she was sick of it. She didn’t understand why her friends couldn’t see Vision the way she did. As a person.

“...yeah.”

“Well he’s not, Clint. I love him and he loves me. It’s as simple as that.” “Sure, whatever you say.”

“So?” “So what?” “Will you stand in as my father?”

“Wanda, what sort of question even is that? Of course I will.”

Vision stood at the top of the hill and gazed down at the construction below him. New Asgard was to be a temporary solution to the homeless citizens of Thor’s home planet, and would act as a shelter until a permanent solution was found.

Said Prince was striding up the hill was hailing him.

“Vision! It’s been a while! How are you?” He said, his booming voice stretching out for what seemed like miles.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Vision replied, much more quietly in comparison. “Wanda and I-”

“Ah, Wanda.” Thor interrupted. “She’s the reason you were born, you know.”

It took every single component of Vision’s mind to avoid overthinking that statement.

“...yes. Well, Wanda and I are getting married-” “Oh, congratulations!” “Thank you- and I was wondering if you would be my best man?”

To be entirely honest, when Tony had first mentioned finding a best man, Vision had no idea what the job entailed. So he had done his research, and Thor was the person who immediately popped into his mind.

“I would be honoured to be the best man!”

...Except he doubted that the Asgardian knew what it was either.

“Do I have to do anything, or…?” Asked Thor, confirming Vision’s doubts. “I believe you have to give a speech and protect the wedding rings.”

At least that was what the internet said, and he had quickly learned not to believe everything he read.

“Ah, yes. I knew that.” Thor most certainly didn’t. “Well, how hard can it be?”

“My thoughts exactly.” Vision replied. He felt relieved now that the matter was settled. As more parts of the wedding were gradually sorted out, he would be able to give Thor more details. Things were going smoothly so far.

“Is it alright if I bring a few friends?”

“Friends?” Vision couldn’t help the hint of exasperation that leaked into his voice. Time was running out, they only had a few months until the wedding and though it wouldn’t make a difference, he still wanted to return as quickly as possible.

“Just a few of my closest companions.” Said a beaming Thor. “I don’t see why not.” “Thank you, my Vision!”

Wanda sat in her temporary apartment, gazing in wonder at Vision’s shortlist of wedding rings. They had been at it for hours, because Vision had a very different definition of the word “short”.

“Vizh, I trust you. You can choose whatever ring you like for me.” She said, after she had almost fallen asleep for the fifth time.

“I know, but I believe all of them would suit you.” Said Vision. “There are 1,742 rings on this list compared to the millions of…”

It was the one time that Wanda felt sympathy for Stark, who had apparently also sat through this list.

“Why don’t you just get all of them? I mean, it’s not like Stark can’t afford it.” Wanda jokingly suggested.

“How is it possible to wear that many rings?” Vision asked innocently.

Wanda let out a chuckle. “No, you can’t- nevermind.” She turned back to the screen.

“Wait, what’s that one?” She said, pointing at one ring in particular.

“That one? That’s a royal ruby. Why, do you like it?”

It was quite a large gold ring, with an oval-shaped red gemstone in the middle.

“It’s perfect.”

“Thor, the rings please.”

“Of course!”

A wet-eyed Thor handed the rings over to Steve, who whispered a quick thanks.

The couple had decided to have meaningful words engraved on the inside of their rings. Wanda chose a word for her ring that immediately made her think of Vision. “Humanity”. Vision’s ring was engraved with the phrase that made him first realise his true feelings for Wanda. “Spirits lifted”.

“Now, repeat after me.” Instructed Steve, as he gave the first ring to Vision. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed.” Repeated Vision, gently sliding the ring onto Wanda’s supple finger.

“Wanda?” Prompted Steve, as he gave Wanda the second ring.

“With this ring,” she let out a breath of joy as she slid the ring onto Vision’s finger, “I thee wed.”

Steve smiled warmly at the pair, before announcing the words they had waited too long to hear.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss.”

The roar of applause and cheers were deaf to their ears. Wanda wrapped her arms around Vision’s neck and drew him closer for their first married kiss.

“I love you.” She said, as she pulled back.

Vision just smiled broadly, and stared at his wife, who stroked his cheek lovingly.

Even an android can cry tears of joy.

#scarletvisionexchange2018 #sve2018 #scarlet vision #vision #wanda maximoff #avengers #mcu #tony stark #bruce banner #steve rogers #clint barton

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