She gasps, accidentally sinking her nails into him to try and grip something. She'd apologise, but she has a feeling Bucky hardly cares.
Wanda likes to be in control as it means less rubble and fewer surprises, but this surprises her.
Bucky's hard because of her. She wants to believe it's decades of pent-up frustration leading him to desperately tug at her, but Wanda doesn't particularly want to think that way even though she wants to guarantee that she's not going to lose one of the only stable things and people she has in her life. To guarantee that remains, it's easier to place an impossible-to-climb mountain of rubble between them. This is already crossing a line she had been reluctant to even acknowledge was there. There's no option to rewind if this goes pear-shaped.
But she can't think like that—and doesn't want to. Instead, she arches her breasts into his hands and grips onto his wrists. She likes the fact that he's touching her with his left. Even if he might accidentally bruise her because of his fingers being made out of something sharper than flesh, she doesn't care. He trusts the arm enough.
"Will you carry me around then?" she smiles and shifts her hips, partially lifting them in an attempt to frustrate him further. He can't have his hands on her breasts and on her hips at the same time. "I have many things to do, people to see."
no subject
Wanda likes to be in control as it means less rubble and fewer surprises, but this surprises her.
Bucky's hard because of her. She wants to believe it's decades of pent-up frustration leading him to desperately tug at her, but Wanda doesn't particularly want to think that way even though she wants to guarantee that she's not going to lose one of the only stable things and people she has in her life. To guarantee that remains, it's easier to place an impossible-to-climb mountain of rubble between them. This is already crossing a line she had been reluctant to even acknowledge was there. There's no option to rewind if this goes pear-shaped.
But she can't think like that—and doesn't want to. Instead, she arches her breasts into his hands and grips onto his wrists. She likes the fact that he's touching her with his left. Even if he might accidentally bruise her because of his fingers being made out of something sharper than flesh, she doesn't care. He trusts the arm enough.
"Will you carry me around then?" she smiles and shifts her hips, partially lifting them in an attempt to frustrate him further. He can't have his hands on her breasts and on her hips at the same time. "I have many things to do, people to see."