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When Wanda joined the Avengers, she was the only one without a super suit. Everyone else had government issued gear, or Stark tech, or armor from their own ancient alien world. Even Vision, who had emerged naked from the regeneration chamber, had discovered his power to manifest his own suit moments after awakening. Thus, the woman with mysterious magic was left battling the various forces of evil in normal clothes—which she’d often sourced from discount stores or second-hand from thrift shops, at that.
The rest of the team agreed pretty quickly that she’d need something distinct to wear. Sure, her abilities meant that she didn’t need specific tactical gear to fight, but at least part of being an Avenger was giving yourself a distinct image to market.
“So, we all agree that Wanda needs a suit,” Steve announced at the team meeting. “Now, the question is, who exactly do we hire to design her one?”
“Yeah, unfortunately, last I checked none of us had the power of costume design,” Sam agreed. “Did any of Banner’s PhD’s include clothing design? Maybe he left some notes…”
“None of them did. I checked his files long ago,” Nat answered, sounding more than a little bitter at the mention of her missing sort-of boyfriend.
“Actually, we do have a person here who can design suits!” Tony interjected, brimming with glee. “Vision!”
The synthezoid in question looked up in surprise at this. He started mentally scanning through his memory banks, looking for such a skill.
“Really?” was the answer he managed.
“You were Jarvis, right? Jarvis co-designed almost all of my Iron Man suits! Come on, man, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that!”
“I am a distinct being from Jarvis, but, yes, I do have some memories of assisting in the design and construction of your suits. But I can’t help but note that this is entirely different, unless you believe that Ms. Maximoff requires a set of powered armor…”
“No, no no! Dear god, the last thing I need is that witch having a suit like mine in addition to those powers.”
Vision was grateful that Wanda was currently training with Clint, having been allowed to skip the meeting in order to keep honing her untrained skills. She hadn’t especially worried about a suit due to the aforementioned “not technically needing one” issue. Vision bristled at her being called a “witch”, and could tell that things remained uneasy between her and Tony.
“But still!” Tony continued. “The basic skills are the same! You know how to take measurements and translate them into something that fits a person’s body! You just have to do that but with, I don’t know, a dress or something!”
“When my previous form assisted with your suits, I had the benefit of multiple scanners that could make perfect measurements…”
“Can’t you still take perfect measurements now?”
“Yes, I suppose, if I look at something closely enough I can gather a rather precise measurement…”
“Well, just look at her naked then! That’s not a bad task, really…” Tony rambled on, making plans for ordering fabric, or maybe manufacturing it with some kind of Stark nano-armor tech embedded in for extra strength.
He totally missed Vision’s discomfort at the offhand statement. Clearly, Tony hadn’t seemed to consider that visually inspecting Wanda’s nude form would be quite… scandalous, for lack of a better term. He wasn’t sure if Tony’s disregard was due to not quite accepting that Vision was a person as opposed to an unfeeling AI, yet, or if it was because Tony’s longtime playboy lifestyle had left him that casual about having nude women around.
And in terms of other discomforts…Vision was yet again experiencing one of the drawbacks of having a physical form: the inconvenient erection. He’d imagined Wanda naked for just long enough to both get distracted from Tony’s further rambling and to have yet another boner pop up. Indeed, Wanda had been the cause of quite a few of his inconvenient physical reactions since he’d gained a body. At first he’d been unsure, wondering if maybe it was random, or maybe he had a preference for women and she’d just happened to be the first woman he’d seen.
As time went on, however, it became frustratingly clear that no, this wasn’t a quirk of some generalized preference for women; he very much desired Wanda specifically. And she wasn’t just physically beautiful; more than any of the other Avengers, she’d made the effort to spend time with him and talk to him, confiding her grief over her brother’s death and even inviting him to watch her much-beloved television shows with her. He might, just might, be falling for her, on top of being very much physically attracted to her. Which led to situations like this, where he had to inconspicuously slide his chair closer to the table to hide his lap. Really, it had been a mistake to wear his super suit today. Sure, summoning it on was easy, but its skin-tight design meant it was especially unforgiving at hiding any bulges that might happen.
“So, to summarize, we’ll get you some measuring tape and sewing supplies and you’ll be good to go?” Tony concluded.
“Uh, yes, exactly!” Vision agreed, snapping out of his distraction.
“Great! I’ll get that ordered!”
“Well, I suppose that concludes our meeting,” Steve announced, and the rest of the Avengers began to file out of the meeting room. Vision hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he was lingering behind to avoid giving them an eyeful.
Sam was the last besides Vision to leave, passing behind the synthezoid’s chair on his way out.
“You thought about seeing her naked, didn’t you?”
Damn, Vision thought, why did Sam always have to be so perceptive? He supposed it probably suited the man well in his career as a counselor, but still. Of course, Sam picked up on Vision’s startled reaction too.
“Hey, don’t worry, it happens to the best of us,” Sam replied, giving Vision a jovial slap on the shoulder.
“I… suppose it does,” Vision responded, doing his best to not grit his teeth in embarrassment and frustration. He was supposed to be better than ‘the best of us’, right?
“If you need to know… tighter undergarments and looser trousers. That’s how I survived senior prom night.”
“I will… take that into account, Mr. Wilson.”
“And, hey, maybe consider just asking her out? She seems to like you too, it’s worth a shot.”
Vision gave a noncommittal nod as Sam left the room. He’d love to be able to express his attraction to Wanda as a normal man might, but his mind raced in panic over the thought. He wasn’t sure he liked exactly how human this fear felt either. At the very least, he hoped that Sam wouldn’t notice his concerns and indecisions, and certainly wouldn’t bring them up to Steve. He knew Sam and Steve were extremely close friends, and prone to sharing everything. Having one of the team leaders know about his crush would be definitively embarrassing.
***
Eventually, Vision’s “problem” settled enough for him to make his way back to his quarters. Along the way, though, he passed the training gym, just as Wanda was leaving.
He rushed past her just fast enough to indicate he couldn’t stop and talk at the moment, even though he technically had time. He felt bad brushing off her friendly “hello”, but he couldn’t stay, not right now when he was still stuck in the skin-tight suit.
Wanda was currently in her exercise clothes, consisting of tight fitting athletic pants and a particularly low-cut sports bra. Really, it exposed a few inches more cleavage than he estimated the average woman’s athletic top did. It was low enough to show a mole she had on one breast. He definitely didn’t know the exact dimensions and placement of that mole halfway down the curve of her left breast. No sir, he hadn’t noticed that at all.
Indeed, he’d specifically not noticed that she’d taken to chest-exposing tops in general lately. It was a sign of confidence in her body, he reasoned. Anyone should be able to wear what they felt comfortable in, and she’d just found probably the most stability and luxury she’d had in her life so far. She was probably feeling great about herself and thus wanting to show off her physical well-being. There was nothing more to glean from that. Certainly not from the fact that her shirt necklines tended to be 20% lower when she knew she’d be hanging out with him.
He pulled his cape around to hide his front as he continued his path, just in case anyone else happened to see him.
***
The actual measuring session the next day was the sweetest slice of hell he’d yet experienced. He was thankful that Sam’s fashion advice was holding true so far; as embarrassing as it had been to get such advice unsolicited, Vision had to admit his new choice of trousers was helping hide anything that might, well, pop up.
And given that his current task involved being very close to Wanda, and carefully inspecting and measuring her body… that seemed somewhat inevitable. At least the trousers also looked good with his sweater, so he had a plausible fashion argument for wearing them.
At least she wasn’t naked. And he was using traditional measuring tools rather than intensely staring at her to calculate measurements. That would have been both unprofessional and unbearable for multiple reasons. Instead, she wore a tank top and shorts that were thin enough to not interfere with the measurements. She still looked stunning in that simple wardrobe, though. Cliché as it was, he knew he’d still find her breathtaking even in a burlap sack. He was far gone, and he knew it, and he hated admitting it. And he caught a glimpse of ample cleavage through the low cut of her top when he had to take her chest measurements.
“Are you all right, Vis?” she asked, noticing his discomfort, though she thankfully didn’t seem to ascertain its origin.
“I’m fine, just…concentrating,” he managed to cover as he took down the last few measurements. “There, that’s it. I should be able to make something from this data.”
“That’s it? You sure you don’t need me for anything else?”
Oh, if only she knew the places his mind went regarding how he needed her.
“No, Ms. Maximoff, that’ll be all. Unless you have any specific design requests regarding your suit, of course; I’ll be happy to accommodate any of those.”
“No, I think I’m content with you surprising me, Mr. Vision,” she replied, smiling and gently mocking his tendency to refer to people formally. “Will you still join me to watch TV later? Or will you be too busy with the design?”
“Oh no, I doubt this will take so much time as to interfere with our usual schedules. I’ll join you later. Is it more Malcolm in the Middle?”
“Sure! I also just got the next disc of Modern Family, so we can try that too if you want!”
***
Vision rushed back to his quarters, carefully placing the notepad containing the measurements and design sketches he’d thought up on his newly-bought sewing workstation. He had several hours before he was supposed to meet Wanda to watch sitcoms, and he knew that a properly efficient machine would spend that time getting to work on making her super suit.
However, Vision was not a properly efficient machine, and he found more pressing matters that demanded his time and attention. Specifically, something that was hard and pressing against the front of his trousers.
He didn’t have a bed yet, since he still tended to sleep hovering in a corner. It was pretty comfortable, given that he didn’t have to worry about whether any mattress or pillows were to his liking. The only inconveniences he could think of were that, 1) of course it set him apart as distinctly non-human, and 2) beds could be useful for certain activities.
Well, he assumed that partnered sex would be out of the question, since he wasn’t sure if any people would find him physically attractive enough. But it would be nice to have a place to recline when he decided to reflect on his fantasies and indulge in self-pleasure. At least the chairs he had set up in front of the painting were recliners.
As he settled in to one of the recliners, he couldn’t help but reflect on how physical pleasure was one of the undeniable benefits of his humanoid form. Sure, the inconvenient erections were… inconvenient, but being able to physically feel things was amazing. Especially now, aroused as he was, the feel of the soft knit of his sweater and the cotton of his trousers against his skin was delightfully sensual.
Since no one was expecting him for a while, due to assuming he’d be working on Wanda’s suit, he decided to take his time and indulge. He slowly undressed himself, imagining Wanda were the person divesting him of his clothes, putting aside his insecurity that she’d find him unattractive. Here, in his mind, in this fantasy that he’d never ever admit to her, that haunted him as he sat next to her watching sitcoms, he thought of her gaze raking over him and liking what she saw, following his vibranium lines towards more intimate places.
Her touch would follow her gaze, finding out that he was sensitive where synthflesh met metal. He trailed his own hands where he imagined her touching, starting at the lines of his neck, down to his collarbones, then further to his chest. As he circled a nipple with one hand while the other continued southwards, he imagined her undressing too; the measurements he’d taken that day painted an even more exact and vivid picture of her than he’d had before. As much as he’d tried to ignore it as well, her habit of wearing low-cut shirts had wedged itself into his fantasies; his mind drifted to her ample breasts, imagining the weight of them in his palms if he got to touch and tease them.
As he took himself in hand, he delighted in the possibilities of what this idealized Wanda might wish to do with him, with them both bare and wanting. Would she take him in her hand, teasing him with steady strokes as he was doing now? Her hands would be delightfully smaller than his, and he knew the fingers of her left hand were callused from practicing guitar. He liked to imagine that she, being presumably more experienced than him, wouldn’t shy away, confidently stroking him off, figuring out how to pass her fingers over the sensitive head and finding the vibranium streak on the underside.
His pace increased and his other hand stroked his sensitive inner thighs before cupping his balls as he imagined Wanda taking him in her mouth, her hands playing with his sac. He had no personal reference about what having anyone’s mouth on him would feel like, but given what he knew about the wetness and heat and the general dexterity of the human tongue, he figured it would feel incredible. Plus, how could anything about Wanda be anything but sublime? To be at her erotic mercy would be his ideal place to be, at the moment.
Oh, but he wouldn’t want to just be on the receiving end of her attentions either. He’d love to lay her down, to trail down her body with lips and teeth and tongue. To taste the salt of her skin, feel the strength of her body under his hands. His knowledge of the female anatomy was rather academic, but he dreamed of how he could apply what he knew. Would she sigh with pleasure as he stroked his fingers along her folds and circled her clit? Would she gasp his name when he slipped fingers inside to find her g-spot?
He had no idea how her pussy would taste either, but by whatever deities might exist did he want to learn. One of his favorite fantasies was of her delirious with pleasure, at the mercy of his tongue and fingers, him enveloped in the taste and smell and feel of her.
Fuck, and what if she let him fuck her pussy? The feel of soft, wet heat around him, and the intimacy of being joined so, well, intimately would be overwhelming. He wasn’t sure whether he preferred the scenario where she rode him, using her knowledge to bring them both pleasure (and, he admitted to himself, lessening the risk of him potentially being a bad lay), or the scenario where she lay beneath him, legs wrapped around his hips as he fucked her into pleasant delirium again, face buried in her hair (Oh, sure, he’d love to kiss her, but he had long calculated that their height difference would probably render that impossible in that position).
And, shit, where would he get to cum? Would she prefer he spill outside of her, painting across her belly, or her ass, or holy shit her tits? Or would she want him inside, deep in her pussy, the primal pleasure of his fluids mingling with hers…
He could sense his orgasm approaching, the distinct feel in his groin becoming familiar by now. All the erotic scenarios blended together in his head as he stroked faster, pre-cum leaking from his tip, slicking his hand as the sounds of friction on flesh echoed through his room.
He was once again thankful for the soundproofing on all of the Avengers’ bedrooms as he tumbled over the precipice, calling out Wanda’s name as he hit his peak, spilling over himself and his hand, some cum even dripping onto the unfortunate recliner. He noticed he was even breathing hard, despite technically having no need for the usual amount of oxygen.
Indeed, everything he had just done was such a human response. It gave him pause, wondering once again at his situation. Some of his teammates even still questioned his humanity quite openly. But why would he have such human responses if he wasn't one? Was this a flaw?
His thoughts started to drag down his post-orgasm buzz, but both negative and positive musings were interrupted when a knock rang at his bedroom door.
“Vision, are you in there?” Steve’s voice sounded muffled through the door.
Shit. Vision thought that one of the benefits of being “born” as a fully-formed adult was that he wouldn’t have to have certain embarrassing adolescent experiences, such as a parent walking in on him masturbating. Well, apparently the universe was determined to see he didn’t miss out.
“Yes, Captain Rogers, just give me a moment!” he called out, hoping that his voice wasn’t too obviously strained.
Vision didn’t use his super speed as often as his other powers, but it sure came in handy now. He cleaned himself (and the chair) up and re-dressed himself in a matter of seconds, before letting the Captain in the door.
As he showed Steve into the room, Vision made sure to offer Steve the chair that had NOT just been used for masturbation. Vision took that recently-used chair for himself.
“To what do I owe this visit, Captain Rogers?”
“It’s Steve,” the soldier laughed, “No need to be so formal all the time!”
Vision could easily retort that Rogers himself had a tendency to slip into old fashioned mannerisms that could seem unusually formal. Still, he knew the Captain meant no harm by it.
“Anyways, Sam mentioned something to me…”
Oh great, Vision thought, what exactly had Sam mentioned?
“And it made me remember… have I ever told you about Peggy Carter?”
“You mean the former director of SHIELD, Agent Margaret Carter?” Vision asked.
“Yes, that’s her. She was the director of SHIELD, an amazing secret agent, vital to the US effort in World War II, and so much more. But for me, well, for me she was Peggy.”
Vision nodded, indicating for Steve to continue.
“From the first time I saw her, she was just… incredible. She could beat anyone in a fight, never took crap from the people who questioned whether she was right for the job, tough as nails. And yet she was so kind too. She always believed in me, from the start. Even before the serum. She never saw me as lesser, or pitied me. She believed in me, as myself. And she was the type to throw herself on a grenade to save the others too—I just happened to run a bit faster and get there first. Thankfully for both of us the grenade was fake and it was a test, but we didn’t know it at the time.” Steve smiled, clearly having fond memories of the incident.
“Clearly Agent Carter was a very important person to you.”
“That’s… putting it lightly,” Steve sighed, nervously palming the back of his neck before continuing. “I was madly in love with her the whole time. We worked together for years, with her helping me train, and then fighting in World War II. But I never had the guts to admit it. Every time I had a chance, I always thought up a reason she would turn me down. Maybe it would be too awkward or worrisome for two people on the team to be dating. Maybe she just wasn’t interested in me. Or maybe she looked at me so closely because I was a scientific curiosity, some special weapon that emerged from that vita-rays chamber. I now know that I was wrong—she’d be just as crazy for that scrawny artist from Brooklyn as she was for Captain America, but I still couldn’t get past it.”
Vision began to suspect then that Steve might be engaging in that time-tested human habit of projection. Still, it clearly was important to Steve that he tell his story, and admittedly Vision was invested in where it was going.
“So I take it you never…made a move?” Vision prompted.
“Eventually we sort of figured each other out. Had a big damn kiss in an airplane hangar, planned a date to go dancing…everything. Unfortunately, that was the day I went into the ice.”
“That is… quite tragic. I am so sorry…”
Steve waved him off. “Eh, I’ve made peace with it, as best I can. She’s still alive, just very old. Severe memory loss too; doctor said it was Alzheimer’s.” He took a breath before continuing.
“So, Sam told me that he thinks you and Wanda might have… something going on…”
“Captain Rogers, I assure you I have been nothing but professional!” Ah, so that was what Sam had told Steve. At least it wasn’t the most embarrassing thing Sam could have said.
“No, no, I’m encouraging it! I’ve noticed it too. The way she looks at you when you aren’t paying attention. The way you gaze at her in return. Look, I felt too insecure to be with the girl of my dreams, and I ended up not confessing to her until I had to sacrifice myself. Life’s short. Don’t wait until your own ‘into the ice’ moment to let her know how you feel.”
They sat in silence for a moment, while Vision processed what he’d heard. He knew now that Steve was definitely projecting his own life experiences onto Vision's situation. There were infinite ways he could refute Steve’s advice; after all, going from a scrawny artist to brawny super-soldier was a bit different from being a computer consciousness artificially 3-D printed into existence. But yet, it would be both cruel and incorrect to do so. The captain was just so earnest in his desire to help, and he truly did have a point about life potentially being short. Not for himself, Vision thought, given that his artificial flesh might not age like a humans, but for Wanda at least he always had to worry about their dangerous line of work.
“I will… take your advice into consideration.” Vision chose his reply carefully. He’d still need to think more about how exactly he might broach the subject of his romantic feelings for her. “Thank you, Steve.”
***
“And I present to you, Ms. Wanda Maximoff!” Vision announced as Wanda stepped forward in her new suit. It really treaded the line between badass and daringly scandalous. Fitted pants allowed for flexibility and range of motion while also showing off her legs. The red long coat provided protection from the elements and provided a flattering silhouette. And the crimson, low-cut corset top definitely emphasized her breasts.
Vision was quite proud of the design. It was functional, flattering, and incorporated the fashion trait he most associated with her. Which just happened to be the fashion trait he found most distractingly attractive. Hmmm, okay, maybe the bust-emphasizing corset was a mistake…
The assembled crowd of Avengers immediately showered Wanda with complements. Tony also gave a few good-natured wolf whistles, while also giving Vision a congratulatory slap on the back. Vision was uncomfortably unsure whether Tony was congratulating him on the design actually being good, or the fact that the design was, as he was now realizing, incredibly sexy. This was something Wanda would wear in one of Vision’s fantasies, and it was embarrassing to realize. At least Wanda herself seemed decently pleased with the outfit.
“Oh dear, you don’t think this is… too much?” she’d asked, upon seeing herself in the mirror during the final fitting.
“How so, Ms. Maximoff?”
“I just mean…I’m not sure someone like me could pull off a suit like this.”
“Nonsense! You look…stunning.” Yes, right. Stunning was correct. It was also the understatement of the century, but he didn’t want to scare her off with half the adjectives he’d use to describe her.
At the time he’d assumed that she meant that she was someone from an impoverished, underprivileged background wearing such expensive materials, but now he was realizing she might have been reacting to the daring cut as well. At least she seemed comfortable and confident in it now, showing it to the team.
“Well, Vis, it looks like your design is a hit!” she said, smiling as she walked back over to him. “I do hope you like it too, though. You’re going to have to see me wear this every time we work together.” She smirked at him then. Wait, was she flirting? No, there was still no way… despite the fact that she’d called him a man from the start, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he wasn’t human… despite everything Steve had told him, he still felt like everything was too different.
***
Just as Wanda and Vision had their friendly TV nights, the other Avengers sometimes gathered to hang out and be “normal” people for a while. A few weeks after Wanda got to show off her new suit for the first time, such a gathering had apparently occurred between Clint, Rhodes, and Tony as Vision made his way down the hall, vaguely overhearing their conversation mixed with some kind of sports game on the television. Given their manner of speaking and apparent demeanor, he concluded that alcohol was involved as well.
“Did you see that corset my boy Vision designed? Hot as hell,” Tony declared, proud but inebriated. “Man, I should have had Jarvis design Pepper some clothes back in the day.”
“Not just Pepper!” a tipsy Rhodes interjected. “We could all have had some fine-ass fashion all this time!”
“I don’t know about it, man,” the drunk archer replied. “He’s, like, a machine, isn’t he? Like, dude, what concept does he even have of ‘sexy’? Where’d he get it? Like, I love that Maximoff girl to bits, but I gotta admit the way she looks at him is just too weird, man. Who wants to screw the computer?”
He knew Hawkeye was drunk. He knew that the archer’s comments likely came from ignorance rather than maliciousness. But they still hurt. That was still his deepest fear, that Wanda saw him not even as a friend, but as a computer. This didn’t help his already-piling insecurities over considering Steve’s suggestion to ask her out.
There was one solution he was determined to follow, then. Ask her. Well, ask her if she could sense him. He knew well that she could sense people but not machines, so that would provide a pretty solid definition for his own personhood. And then maybe after that he could ask her out??? Okay, the rest of the plan wasn’t as defined. But at least there was a plan.
He knew Wanda would be training again at this time. He may as well stop in and visit her.