ostavil | don't touch that dial

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wanda

don't touch that dial

They're the two most terrifying people on the planet and wanted by several governments but they're playing house in the middle of nowhere and not a single person can tell. Bucky's used to being invisible and silent and he'd managed to hide out in Romania for longer than he should have been able to by living on cash only, working under the table, keeping to the shadows. This is different. This is a real life that he can have, out in the open, and nobody even thinks he's suspicious at all.

It's a very, very good thing that HYDRA no longer has control of Wanda Maximoff.

When they're out in public, he keeps his face away from cameras and his arm hidden; a hat and Wanda's tricks do the rest. He can take his time picking out food, plan meals, pretend to have the friendly banter that a husband and wife would have. It's nothing he's never had before and this kind of stability almost feels like he's stealing the life he was supposed to have after the war. There's some other version of him who died falling from that train and maybe it's that version that's getting a new lease on life now.

It's autumn and the leaves have started to turn, yellow like the sun and scarlet like Wanda's hair and there's a brisk wind that says there's gonna be a storm in a day or two. Rain or snow, he isn't sure, but it's Canada so it can go either way. He has his left arm slid into Wanda's to cover up that it doesn't hang naturally the same as his right does and nobody suspects a thing. Their neighbors aren't ever curious, there's no surveillance, there's nothing to worry about. It's a strange feeling but a good one.

"You know, if you can figure out how to explain it to my tiny soldier brain I would love to know how you managed to keep our house invisible from everyone else. Small words, though. I'm all brawn and no brains."

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She's glad she can hide against his shoulder. She smiles and flushes, shaking her head a little incredulously. Whenever he speaks of her, he always says something that's nice—and it feels so unearned. She's simply Wanda. Weird, dangerous, and definitely out of place, but he's gone to great efforts with and without realising to make her feel as though she does have a place, no matter how odd it feels to try and slot into it.

Considering he hasn't tried to shrug her off, she kisses her way along his shoulder and to his neck. With him lying pliant beneath her, she's grown a little more confident to heed her impulses and do what she wishes to do—which is to touch him and explore him. Maybe make him go a little crazy. All she wants is for him to relax and let her take her time.

"I wouldn't say it's paradise," she murmurs. She nuzzles his neck before she finds his pulse and licks at his skin.

"Woman, you have no idea how good you are at this," Bucky says, laughing softly. She licks his skin and he sighs a little. It's such a simple touch, that one, but it makes him feel like every nerve ending in his skin is alive and he just wants more. Maybe she has a point about spending her time touching him first because he thinks he needs it. He thinks he needs it more than his next breath.

He shifts his left arm a little when she moves to his neck and spreads his palm against her back. He can't get over being able to feel something and while it's still muted and not the same as his right hand, it's something, and after not having two hands for so long it's intoxicating to know that he'll be able to feel her skin under both his hands. It feels like he's a whole man again and there's no one in the world who could give that to him but Wanda.

"You have any ideas about where this paradise is headed to or are you just making it up as you go along?"

It's a good thing she's too busy alternating between kissing his neck and licking at it, or else she'd feel the need to rebuff him and his compliment. He needs to stop; he's becoming a menace and it's almost like he wants her to combust from the embarrassment of being looked at too closely. She curls her hand around his right shoulder as she nips at his neck, pleased that he's not discouraging her from exploring him.

She shivers at the touch of his metal hand. She shakes her head and doesn't immediately reply, a little too busy sucking at his skin. Now that she has permission, she intends to give him a hickey so she can see just how long his skin holds it before his healing factor kicks in. She hopes it's for longer than a few seconds. Wanda wants to leave a physical mark on him.

"Making it up," she says against his neck. She squeezes his shoulder and sucks at his skin. "I just want to feel you."

"Could feel me a lot more if you were under me," he teases but then she's sucking at his neck and he makes a low sound that is wordless and mindless. He wants to be in her, desperately, but there's something to be said for foreplay even if he's not used to being on the receiving end of it. He wants to be giving in bed, to make up for the fact that his hands deliver pain and death instead of anything good, and he sighs a little.

"Please don't stop."

It's more pathetic than he means it to be, almost a whimper, and he hopes that Wanda can feel how much he wants her because he thinks it must be rolling off him in waves that even she can't block out. She's a polite telepath, to be sure, but this has to be too loud and too much for her to ignore.

If she stays focused on the task at hand, she can block out all the extra noise. Since Bucky's started them down this path, the outside world has grown louder the more nervous Wanda grows. It's easier to ignore them all if she focuses on the fact that he's all talk and very, very pliable beneath her.

And it's easy to focus on what she's doing given how receptive he's being. For as long as he lets her try and mark his neck, she'll keep at it until she's left even just a sliver of a mark behind.

Wanda drags her tongue up the length of his neck and nips at the underside of his jaw. Feeling a little smug, she shrugs a shoulder and smiles against his neck. "Okay," she almost singsongs. And she happily returns to alternating between licking and kissing his skin before she finds her way back to where his pulse beats the heaviest. She sucks then, moaning roughly low in her throat. She squeezes his right shoulder again as she focuses her tongue on only that spot.

"Shit, Wanda, you're driving me insane. I already said that, I think." Truthfully, it's hard to think. It's just hard in general right now and Bucky doesn't know if he's going to be clear headed again until he can fuck her into the mattress. Not that this is what you say to a nice girl like Wanda; he'd never be that crass with someone he cares about as much as her.

But what if Wanda doesn't mind that? She's clearly not shy in bed even if she doesn't have a lot of experience with other people and she seems to know exactly what she wants and how she wants it. If that's the case, maybe she doesn't care if he slips up and shows her something other than the kind, polite man he always tries to be with her.

He reaches for her with his right hand, trying to tug her on top of him. She can keep kissing him, sure, but he wants to feel her pressed up against him while she does.

She pauses her attentions at his neck and reluctantly shuffles on top him, not wanting to stop now that she knows he's not going to push her away or try and stop her. Now pressed skin to skin, Wanda's grateful she can hide her face in the crook of his neck. His skin's warm and his muscles are hard beneath her; she's overwhelmed by how much of him she can feel.

She's partly grateful that she's practically naked on top of him; she didn't feel this close to him while on his lap on the couch. Pushing her chest into his and her hips into him makes the voices growing louder in her head quieten somewhat. Moving her knee to sit between his legs, she stretches out as much as she can against him. He's so damn tall and broad. All she wants is to touch all of him at once.

Wanda curls both her hands into his shoulders, mindful of where is metal arm and skin connect on his left. She pants softly as she swaps to the other side of his neck and kisses up along the slope of his shoulder and immediately sucks hard at his pulse point.

"You feel so good." There's no point in trying to hide it now, not when he's hard as hell just from some kissing and when she kisses and sucks at his pulse point, it feels good enough that he grabs her ass and just pushes her down against him. She's still got on panties but he has on absolutely nothing and there's no way that she will miss how much she's gotten him worked up.

"I'm gonna get you back," he murmurs. "Spread you out and get you back for all of this."

He intends to make good on that promise, too, because there's nothing he loves more than making a woman fall apart under him and he can take his sweet time about it. He has plenty of stamina and plenty of ideas so he knows he'll be able to work her up for a while.

She can't help but chuckle against his neck, although it's more breath than any laughter. She inhales shakily, keeping her head buried against his neck. Where she'd been determinedly sucking at his skin, she now simply pants and grazes her teeth against him.

When she pushes her hips down against his, she shudders at how hard he is. And she does it again, enjoying the warm sensation the movement elicits within her. She grips his shoulders and pushes her hips down against his as she rocks against him.

"Will you?" her voice isn't as strong as she'd like it to be; her words come out breathless and low, her accent thicker than she usually allows it to be. "Because it seems I have you spread out."

While she may not have the experience he does, she's pretty sure this feels as good for him as it does her. And all she wants to do is follow that feeling; it's the one thing Bucky has consistently encouraged her to do since they paired up in the aftermath of everything.

"All's fair in love and war," he gasps out. Bucky doesn't think he's ever been with anyone this insistent to not let him have what he wants while giving him exactly what he wants at the same time. He doesn't know if that's just Wanda's good intuition or if she just likes it this way but it's definitely working for him as much as it seems to be working for her.

"If you're gonna be up there, you could at least get that mouth of yours down lower."

Her accent's thicker and so is his, sliding into the Brooklyn of his youth and not the generic accent he'd developed after years of being the Winter Soldier. He might as well be hooking up with a girl at a dance hall in the 40s for as much as she's got him strung out and it's a good feeling to not know what's coming next.

But Wanda doesn't want to move away from his neck. How else is she meant to mark him beyond where his Super Soldier enhancements can touch and repair the damage she's done? Wanda lingers by his neck, nipping at what she hopes to be bruised skin, before she even thinks to move away.

Moving her knee out from between his legs so she can straddle him a little better, she continues to absently rub against his crotch, her attention elsewhere. She kisses her way to his collarbones, enjoying the fact that he's letting her touch him. While Bucky often presses a hand to the small of her back, she imagined that after everything he's been through, any kind of touch wouldn't be welcome. Now that it is, she intends to be greedy, dragging her hand against his chest while she kisses her way down his pectoral. Wanda swipes her tongue firmly over his nipple.

Settling her hand onto his side, she lifts her head and gazes up at him with her lips parted as she pants softly. She cards her hand through her hair, trying to move most of it out of her way and away from hot skin, before she asks breathlessly, "Was that okay?"

"Only if you lean down here and let me return the favor," he says, grinning up at her. He's pretty sure he looks punch-drunk at this point and his skin feels hot; he's hardly a blusher but Wanda's worked him up pretty damn good and it's been a long, long time since he's had anything like this. It feels so good to be wanted.

"I don't like to be so passive, Doll. I'm more of a hands-on kinda guy."

It's an understatement, really, but he guesses the frustration will pay off in the end of it. If she works him up really tight, when he finally gets that release it's going to feel better than anything he's ever felt in his entire life. At least, that's what he's going to tell himself because otherwise he's just going to go insane.

"But you are actively participating," she says with a cheeky smile.

When she moves up the length of him and hovers over his face, she doesn't lower her mouth to his. She kisses the tip of his nose and laughs softly, enjoying teasing him way too much. She likes that he lets her.

Moving her hands to palm his chest, she sits up straight on top of him. She's grateful now that some of her thick hair falls against her breasts. She's slightly red and her skin's damp and she's more exposed than she's ever let herself be; she doesn't feel as well-put-together as she often tries to present to Bucky.

Absently clawing her nails against his chest, she tilts her head to the side as she shifts her hips against his cock. She inhaled sharply and stiffens her back, ignoring the butterflies unfurling in her gut. "I'm enjoying you and you seem to be enjoying it a lot."

Yeah, he's enjoying it, but he'd be enjoying it a lot more if he was in control. But maybe Wanda knows this about him. Maybe she knows that he likes to be in control in bed, likes to direct things and make sure it goes the way he wants because he's afraid of losing control. He's afraid of someone taking advantage of him again.

Wanda is different, though. Wanda could make him a puppet on a string with a flick of her fingers but she doesn't and it's because she cares about him. He isn't afraid of her powers because he trusts her with everything he has and he trusts her with this even if it isn't the way he normally does things. Maybe there's something to doing it this way.

He grips her hips and pushes her down hard, lets her feel him against her and uses the softness of her thighs to find some relief. He slips his hands upward and gets them on her breasts. If she wants to control the pace, she can do that, but he's getting some of what he wants, too.

"You're not going to be able to walk when I'm done with you. I hope you know that."

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."

"I don't think you're gonna want to see anyone after I'm done with you, Wanda." He thinks it might be unfair to think about bending her over the bed and fucking her from behind as loudly as he possibly can but she started this and she can reap the rewards of being a tease. She's pulled her hips away from him and because his hands are on her breasts, he can't tug her back down and still have that. Or maybe he can.

He slides his left hand down and presses at her hip, trying to get her to rub up against him again. If she wants him to come like this, he'll come like this, but he wants some semblance of control just to know that he's going to eventually get a payoff. This situation is just frustrating for someone like him who thrives on control and being in charge.

"You know, if you were a good little witch, you'd at least get your mouth on my cock and have some mercy on me. I don't think I've ever been this hard in my life."

One thing Bucky has always gotten wrong about her is thinking of her as good. She's not. It's a mistake he keeps making, and Wanda wonders if he'll ever learn to correct it. Good people aren't the catalyst for a law that condones the good heroes from being good.

While Wanda might settle down onto his hips, she doesn't move. Even though she wants to give him what he wants, she doesn't want to get him off with her mouth. She wants to selfishly embrace the confidence she's found teasing him like this. She likes watching him. She's always enjoyed watching him and seeing HYDRA's stone crumble to reveal the person they tried to suffocate beneath. She doesn't need to skim across the surface of his thoughts when she can see him enjoy himself instead.

"Nobody is stopping you from getting what you want but you, Bucky." She taps her fingers against the wrist that she still holds, resting her other hand against his left. She shakes her head. "But I won't. I don't want to give you mercy that way."

Bucky huffs out a low breath and squirms underneath her. She's sitting on top of him and feels soft and warm and wonderful and all he wants is to fuck her and she's just not letting him do it. This isn't the way things usually go for him because he's used to taking control and guiding things and he'd thought since she'd seemingly had less experience, that he'd be doing that.

He'd thought wrong.

"So we'll do it your way," Bucky says, pulling his hands free so he can get them on her hips. It only takes him a moment to realize that she said not to rip the dress, not the panties, and he grips at them with his left hand while he looks up at her, eyes steely and challenging.

"Either they go or I tear them. Your choice."

If they were truly doing it her way, he'd have come already rather than being so stubborn and holding out and he'd be holding her just the way she hasn't let herself want.

She looks down at where his hand is and doesn't think to bat it away. She liked her dress. She wants to wear it again. The colour's nice, and considering how she thinks Bucky had been trying not to look at her earlier, she'd like to wear it again to get beneath his skin. Besides, it's just a nice dress—and Wanda likes that she got to buy it.

But the panties aren't her favourite pair.

So, ignoring the racing of her heart and the surge of nervousness, she shrugs and looks down at him. "Have you ripped underwear off with that hand before?"

"Absolutely not. I never use this hand for anything intimate. Not until your magic, anyway."

She'd said if they were doing this, she wanted all of him, and all of him includes his left hand. He twists it and the fabric tears easily, falling off to just be a pathetic scrap between the two of them. He wants to be inside her more than he wants his next breath but Wanda doesn't seem to want that (right now, at least), so he grips her hips and slides against her and not in her.

With nothing between them now, it's harder to keep control and he knows he's going to end up coming sooner rather than later. It's been a protracted battle, honestly, so he doesn't think he's giving up to give in just now. Maybe she's won this one but she won't win the war. He doesn't have much time to think about that, though, because another hard press against her and he's done. He's pretty sure he's fried every brain cell he has but he's never had an orgasm that's felt this good.

Wanda breathes heavily, swallowing thickly. It's a lot different without her panties in the way. She already knew she was aroused, but now Bucky's going to feel how slick she is. While she's not embarrassed by it, it's just another vulnerability he's exposing amongst many tonight.

Her skin feels hot and clammy at watching him come. She stares down at him, no longer gazing at him teasingly. With her lips parted, she leans forward and rubs her hands against his shoulders.

She wraps her hand around his wrist to pull his hand away from her chest. All she wants to do is sprawl out on top of him, uncaring of the mess of his come. She doesn't like the distance sitting astride him creates; she wants to be closer to him.

"Who knew ripping panties was your weakness?" she teases gently, smiling softly. She keeps rubbing her hands against his shoulders.

"Keep 'em in supply," he says, laughing softly. Wanda has sprawled on top of him and she feels so soft and warm. It feels so good to just be intimate with someone, to share moments like this with another person and not be afraid or slam the walls up. He reaches his right hand up to stroke her hair. It's a little messy from all the exertion but he doesn't care. Not a bit.

"I wanted to get you off first. That's why I held out so long," he whispers. It seems wrong to talk loudly when they're intimate like this and her fingers are stroking against his skin. He tips his head back and tries to meet her eyes, smile tilting his lips.

"I thought you'd just get frustrated and let me have my way. You're getting French lessons later, though." It's a tease and he pauses for a moment before speaking again, softer and more sincere.

"It gets me off to get you off. Or it will, anyway, if you let me. I just want you to feel good."

She rests her head against his right shoulder and curves her hand into his left. Now that he's no longer being frustrating and fighting her, she can relax and not expect any funny trickery from him.

She likes lying on top of him. Moving her leg so she can wedge her foot beneath his calf, Wanda exhales long and loud and feels boneless against him. This is all she's wanted, someone to simply hold her while the world kept spinning. It's all she wanted at HYDRA when she was unable to be near Pietro.

It keeps the town's growing thoughts quiet. She can listen to his heart pump and the blood rush beneath his skin and the way his voice sounds like she's underwater when she presses her ear tightly to him.

"And I wanted you to stop focusing on me," she says quietly. She smiles and traces her fingers against his shoulder, mostly on his skin. "I don't need you to get lost in me when I need you here, too."

"Most women complain that their husbands don't do enough around the house and my wife wants me to stop doing things. Somehow we got this all mixed up, Wanda."

Bucky can understand her point. It feels good to him to make her happy, to take care of her, to bring her pleasure. If it feels good for him, it must feel good for her, too, and maybe he shouldn't be so stubborn about accepting things from her whether it's a nice dinner or an orgasm. He strokes his fingers against her skin, grounding himself with the touch.

"It...I've got control issues," he admits finally. "And I know it's because of HYDRA and what they did to me. If I'm the one doing things, I know that no one can hurt me because I know exactly what's going to happen. And then there's the fact that I was used to hurt and maim and kill for so long that I want to know that my hands can make someone feel good, that my actions can make someone happy. Does it make any sense?"

She tilts her head up and watches him, even if what she mostly sees is his jawline. She understands it. While she hadn't been forced to be a killing machine with no sense of agency until after the fact (and even then), she understands it. Everything that's happened to her in her life has been outside of her control. It's why she wants to keep puppet strings tied to her fingers at all times.

"It does," she says quietly, resting her hand against his chest. "But I know you're not going to hurt me and you make me happy. You don't have to do anything more than be yourself."

And it doesn't matter to Wanda if he has to spend time figuring out who he is now that he's a man out of time. But she doesn't want him to overcompensate or forget that she's here for him, not for the ways he tends to serve her.

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