Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
Something tells me that Peter (QuickSilver) would love this (he’d steal it)
You can’t tell me he wouldn’t
doggy, missionary, spooning, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, lotus, upside down, inside out, one leg up, two legs up, in public, on a spaceship, in the garden, on the grass, in a car, in the theater, in the jungle, in the hunger games, on a kitchen counter. no lube, no protection, all day, all night, from the back, from the front, upside down, sideways, in a chair, standing up, from the bed to the carpeted floor, from the kitchen floor to toilet seat, from the dining table to the laundry room.
made by me via instagram 😋
#be there or be square
realistically could i pull tate langdon
included the side profile and everything
i have a boner for ralph bohner 💞
NEED HIM SO BAD KNAWING AT THE WALLS OF MY ENCLOSURE BACKDOOR OVER A TABLE ON SET IN HIS TRAILER WTF GIVE IT TO ME PETERS
Hi, may I request a headcanons of The Brotherhood(Quicksilver, Blob and Toad) whose crush is gn reader? How would they act?
The Brotherhood (X-Men: Evolution) X gender neutral crush
Note(s) : Sorry it took so long, I was struggling to figure out how to write for them (*・~・*) I think I got it right though?
Pietro Maximoff / Quicksilver
'Hey! Over here, nooo, not there, silly! Here!'
Oh he's so annoying (affectionate)
Pietro's main goal is to make you think about him wherever you are, that means bugging you constantly.
Assuming you're in the same school, he's constantly switching out your homework with blank pieces of paper, drawing messages in your books, speeding over to poke you in class knowing you can't do anything about it, etc.
It only gets worse if you're an X-Man.
During missions if you're against each other he's constantly going after you, it's gotten him in trouble with Mystique more times than he can count because he refuses to acknowledge the main purpose of the mission, instead, he only wants to annoy you.
Sometimes it's just pushing you over then zooming away, other times he constantly taunts you while running so fast you can't catch him or tell where he's going next, whatever it is, he makes sure it's enough of a bother that you start to get frustrated.
If you're in the brotherhood he can at least get missions done but you know he's bothering you the entire time, you basically end up doing all the work.
Is he flirty? Absolutely.
Expect his arm around your shoulders or waist while he talks on and on so fast you can't even catch what he's saying, but when he does slow down he's all 'You're the only one for me.' 'I love your shirt, is it new?' 'Your eyes are so beautiful, I could stare at them for hours.'
Lance and Todd are throwing up in the background.
Wanda wants to punch her brother into a separate dimension.
Fred's just chilling.
Think of him like Lance with Kitty but more focused on teasing you rather than being completely smitten, don't get him wrong, he loves you and he'd probably even make you a sandwich if you asked, but he'll be an asshole about it.
'Oh, come on, that's so much effort! Can't you just do it yourself?' but before you can answer he zooms off to do what you asked of him. 'here, I guess.' he huffs, a grin on his face as he hands you the item you requested.
Frederick J. Dukes / The Blob
'Do I have to stay with them..?'
Fred is under the assumption that it's impossible for you to like him back after what happened with Jean, of course he was pushy and unfair with her, but she also rejected him and all of the X-Men despise him. So, he doesn't exactly have many options when it comes to friendship, let alone dating, besides the Brotherhood.
Then comes you.
Whether you're an X-Man, member of the Brotherhood, Morlock, perhaps just a fellow mutant, or a human, student at school, he'll truly never believe that he has a chance.
While before he was fairly obsessive and pushy with his crushes, with you he's silent and very awkward, even if you're nice to him he expects backlash if he ever confesses.
If you're a member of the brotherhood his awkwardness is slightly less explainable and far more noticeable, you're his teammate, you spend almost all day together, yet he can hardly look at you and loudly complains when he's paired with you or left alone with you. It probably makes you feel like he hates you.
He's very embarrassed if you confront him about it.
Awkward, he stumbles over his words and is breathing a little heavy as he does so, trying his best to explain that he doesn't hate you, he's just. Well. You see.
It's a similar situation if you attend his school, human or mutant, he's very sweet to you and tends to avoid messing with you. Fred usually quiets down when you get near, almost shutting down in a way. The others tease him for it all the time.
He'll most likely try to avoid you, maybe Lance, Pietro and Todd will push him to interact with you just to 'stop him from bugging them about it', they totally just want to help him out, and it ends with him always running away in embarrassment or assuming, if you're quiet or not that reactive, that you hate him.
If you're paired in a school project, Fred will absolutely just skip school, he doesn't care, he skips class regularly anyway, no Pietro, it's not to avoid you, he's just too cool for class.
If you're an X-Man, it's very different.
Fred is under the assumption you both share a mutual hate for each other, you're enemies after all! The tightness in his chest that he's feeling is totally just violent urges, that's it, that's all, it's not the want to hold your hand, hold you, tell jokes and make you laugh, no, no, that's not it at all!
He tends to target you to try and avoid his feelings quicker, he hates hurting you, but throwing you away from him, physically, makes sure he won't get distracted by you.
Fred ends up crying in his room when he goes home because he's afraid he hurt you.
Heck, even the other members of the brotherhood just want him to get with you already. Lance is especially eager because he won't be the only one being made fun of for dating an X-Man.
Eventually it does spill somehow and I'd imagine he would try to run away from you, maybe you catch up or explain to him later on, whichever one, he'll get very happy when you confirm you share feelings for him. He practically fixates on you so hard that you're the only thing he talks about.
Todd Tolansky / Toad
'Hey, how it's goin', beautiful?'
He proceeds to fall down on his face.
Todd is a bit of a creep, constantly following you around and showing off his nonexistent muscles, telling the most unfunny jokes and pulling pranks on people in an attempt to impress you.
He doesn't smell nice, he's been told this his entire life, that he's slimy, disgusting, every insulting name under the sun. As such, he decides to at least try and take a shower more often for you, to make you less likely to avoid him, of course!
Todd has a big grin on his face every time he talks to you, bouncing off his feet like he's just won the lottery. He's also very, very flirty, just not that good at flirting.
His pick up lines are very 'the immediate Google search results for pick up lines.' type of cheesy, very stereotypical and eye rolling.
If you're an X-Man, member of the Brotherhood, human, mutant, etc, it doesn't matter much to him, he treats you the exact same. The only real difference is how much time he spends around you.
In the brotherhood he does try to avoid flirting in front of the guys to avoid embarrassment or teasing, but surprisingly he does ask for a lot of advice regularly. It usually never goes well, Lance and Pietro tend to just give very wrong or confusing tips and Fred doesn't really have any to give in the first place.
If you're an X-Man he tries to impress you by fighting your teammates, usually he loses, but sometimes he does win! He'll pose and ask if he's just the coolest guy or what. Todd doesn't like fighting you but he will, because unfortunately Mystique is absolutely terrifying and he doesn't want to face her wrath.
In school he likes to ask for your help, constantly bugging you about how he just desperately needs your assistance to study for this test coming up, which to be fair he does. But, if you agree to help him, he doesn't actually try. He just flirts with you the entire time.
His crush is obvious, incredibly so, even the most clueless of individuals would know he loves you because he says it directly every single day. He doesn't exactly need to 'confess' per say, all you really need to do is accept his flirting or flirt back, maybe ask him out yourself.
wait what is a quicksilver
babe quicksilver is a marvel superhero 😭😭
Bestie! I love your quicksilver fics! You have filled my heart with joy with each one!! ❤️❤️
aaah thank you so much!! that’s so sweet!! ❤️
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: peter maximoff x reader 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you can’t sleep and neither can peter, but at least you both know exactly how to comfort one another. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+, fluff, peter and reader are early to mid twenties, british reader 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: y/n is known by the mutant name “scribe” and is charles xavier’s niece.
It’s eleven-thirty, and you can’t sleep.
Your thoughts shift to your lessons in the morning; to how tired you’re going to be; to that iced coffee you’d had while getting your assignment done after class; about how that drink was definitely a bad idea considering how you’re lying awake now. It had tasted good then, and it had given you the energy you needed to fire out five thousand words in the span of a few hours… but now you regret it.
Sighing, you roll over. Your eyes glaze over the objects on the nightstand beside your bed. Your alarm clock, rectangular in size and wooden in material, glares at you. Eleven thirty six. Eleven thirty seven. The time seems to spiral, and you realise that you might as well do something with yourself if you’re awake.
You eye the books stacked on top of the alarm clock; you’d been reading one before and it had bored you half to death, so you can’t bring yourself to pick up any again. What else? What else?
Your gaze settles upon the picture frame on the dresser next to your nightstand, and you let out a sigh as you settle upon the silver-haired speedster within it. You’re next to him, a mere blur since he’d sneakily taken the camera from your hand and taken a picture with an expression that radiates cheekiness, but you’d liked the picture enough to keep it.
You’ve got a few more picture frames scattered around your room—photos of you with Scott, Jean, Jubilee and Kurt. Even some of Charles. You might not be close, but he is your uncle, after all. He’s still family.
And yet it’s Peter you keep your eyes on. It’s Peter's mischievous aura which calls to you across the room.
What would he be doing right now? He’s probably playing video games or practicing on one of his guitars. You’d been surprised to see him play well; you’d been surprised to see that he actually had the attention span it takes to successfully learn an instrument. You would know: your mother used to nag you about practicing the piano to perfection. Practice makes perfect, she’d always said, and yet she’d always left out how much energy it took to practice in the first place.
Is it too late to reach out to him? The two of you have a specific way of speaking to one another across distances by now, although even the thought of doing such a thing due to the time seems rude. Your mother had always told you that it was your duty to be polite, and your father had by example. You think you picked it up from him rather than her, but—
Don’t think of him right now. Don’t think of what happened. Don’t.
As if in an effort to push the memory of that night from your head, you move. You pull the drawer attached to your nightstand open to reveal a mess of junk inside, but what you need—and what you spy—is a pen and paper. You pull it from the drawer and slam the nightstand drawer shut quietly, and after, you get to work writing:
Are you up? Can I come over?
Your fingers buzz with azure energy as you feel your mutation working in your favour. A tiny portal of blue opens before you, one you could make larger if you wished but one which you keep small for now. It’s no larger than a letterbox would be, and the faint sound of music from the other side tells you that Peter is very much awake.
You slip the note through the portal, and then you leave it open as you wait.
When you receive no response for a solid fifteen seconds but can hear movement on the other side, you wonder if this was a mistake after all. It’s too late, you scold yourself, mentally preparing for rejection. Oh, god, this is going to be awkward. What if he—
An empty Twinkie box falls at your feet.
You blink at it, momentarily confused, and then you pick it up. You glance about the dessert’s display as you begin to turn the box over in your hands. Nothing on the front, but on the back—
Scrawled in pink glitter pen—probably his sister’s—, the box reads on the back: Yeah. Come through.
You grin lazily as you set the box down on your bed and extend the portal with your fingers like you’re prying open a heavy door. The orange light from Peter’s basement slips through and becomes one with the light of your dorm, which is yellow and warm with your room’s wooden accented walls and flooring. And as you slip through the portal and your bare feet touch the soft tartan carpet of his room, you let the portal shut with a soft shum behind you—
But Peter Maximoff does not look his best. In fact, he looks downright miserable.
His eyes are red as if he’s been crying, his hair is messy—messier than usual, at least—and he’s wearing a band tee and some tartan pajama bottoms that look intended for comfort rather than style. You were about to say hey, but you stop in your tracks. You tilt your head as you look at him.
Peter is still. It’s strange, especially since he’s usually so eccentric. He blurts out, “What?”
You frown, momentarily stuck for what to say. “Nothing,” you respond, but it doesn’t seem right.
Peter stares at you. You stare at him. You’re both quite similar, so it strikes you then that you both know that you’re each not telling each other something.
“You okay?” You ask, suspicion clear in your tone.
Peter shrugs nonchalantly. It’s a rigid movement. “Yeah,” he says, far too confidently to be true. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You narrow your eyes on him. His tone of voice has all but solidified your suspicions. “Okay, first of all,” you say, crossing the small space of the room between you and the sofa, “you use a very distinctive tone when you lie.” You settle down on the sofa as you cross your legs under you. “Second, your eyes are really red. Have you been—?”
“No.”
Crying, you were about to ask, but he cut you off. You narrow your eyes again.
Peter sighs and averts his gaze, running a hand through his hair. “Tonight’s just… not a good night.”
You press your lips together as sympathy wells in your eyes. “Why not?”
“Can’t sleep.”
“That makes two of us."
Peter inhales deeply, and before you know it, he’s sitting on the sofa next to you. You’re used to how fast he moves by now. Something warms your heart in the way he sits with his body angled towards you. Like he’s opening himself up to you.
“Wanna stay here tonight?” He asks.
You glance at the other end of the sofa and then back to him. You’re reminded of how he took the sofa to sleep on that night after you guys got caught in the rain. “Here?”
Peter’s brows rise. “Is my basement not fancy enough for you?”
You know he’s joking even despite the lack of humour in his tone, and you let out a small huff of laughter as you flash him a lazy smile. You sit back on the sofa, reaching out your hand to intertwine it with his. Things between you are still blooming after your first date, but you both feel comfortable enough to do this. Peter’s fingers wrap around yours as he starts drawing patterns on the back of your hand with his free one.
“I just mean,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the backdrop of quiet music, “won’t your mom mind?”
“She didn’t mind when you stayed over last time.”
Your lips quirk upwards in gentle amusement. “That time you slept on the couch. This time I was thinking, I mean, if you want to, then maybe—”
“Oh,” Peter murmurs. His head lifts upwards in a sort of understanding motion. “Yeah, I mean… ah, I can deal with whatever safe sex talk she wants to give me in the morning.”
Your cheeks flush red. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant maybe we could…” Oh, god, embarrassment— “cuddle.”
Peter grins. “Cuddle, huh?” He pauses, until— “Okay,” he murmurs, reaching an arm around the back of the couch to wrap around you. “I guess I could be down for cuddling.”
You snicker softly as you lean into his touch, your head resting against his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me why you looked so upset when I arrived?”
Peter tenses. “It wasn’t because of you, if that’s what you were thinking.”
“Mm,” you murmur, “I think I’m confident enough in our relationship to know that your reaction when seeing me is generally excitement rather than the dread that accompanies sad under eyes and red markings around them.”
He pauses for a few seconds before he lets out a long breath of defeat. “That obvious, huh?”
“Mm,” you murmur, looking up at him. “A little.”
His lips twist to the side as he lowers his gaze. “I was thinking about my dad.”
It’s your turn to pause now, looking up at him in a way you didn’t before. You assess every detail of his body again: the way his shoulders slump, the way his head hangs low, the way his hair falls in the way of his view and his eyes are heavy with something you haven’t seen in him before. He’s usually so full of life.
Is this what he’s hiding deep down?
“Tell me about it,” you say softly.
Peter grimaces. “It’s a long story, and the stupid thing is it’s mostly my fault.”
Frowning, you sit up and face him. “I don’t believe that.”
Peter lets out a humourless laugh that might be bitter if he showed a hint of anger, but he doesn’t. “It’s true. The only time I’ve ever been too slow and it’s in finding the most…”
He trails off, pulling his arm away from around you so that they both now rest in his lap. He continues, “It’s a mess.”
“Start from the beginning."
So he explains, if not vaguely: about trying to find his father, about finding a house empty and police arriving on the scene. Peter had fled at the sight of them, and—
“His name’s Magneto,” he admits. “Erik Lehnsherr. You’ve probably… seen him on TV or something."
Suddenly, it all adds up. You weren’t at school to see what happened with Apocalypse, but you’ve heard about it from your friend group. Peter doesn’t talk about it very much, and now you know why; had he been part of that whole adventure because of his father? He hadn’t been involved with Xavier’s School before, that much you know.
You suck in a breath. Okay, Y/N, push the fact that his dad’s a known terrorist aside— “Does he know?”
Peter shakes his head. “Nah. I had the chance to tell him and I didn’t. I screwed it up. And now I’m right back where I was before all of it, because I have no clue where he is and no way of telling him the truth. I couldn’t even do it for Wanda.”
“Hey,” you murmur, your fingers moving to cup his cheeks. “Fight or flight, right? It’s normal. To see him right in front of you—to have to muster up the courage to tell him? Knowing what a change that would be for you? Peter, that’s normal.”
Peter’s eyes well with softness as he listens to you, gazes upon you, and you think you’ve never seen him look so vulnerable as he lowers his head to your shoulder. He takes in a shaky breath; wraps his arms around you; pulls you into his lap—
“Thanks,” he murmurs into your shirt. It’s not his shirt this time; you’re wearing a pyjama set that consists of blue silk shorts and a top. “Not sure I believe you, but thanks, Y/N.”
“Is there anything I can do to make you believe me?”
Peter takes a deep breath. “Aside from mind control? Not sure.”
You press your lips together and begin to stroke his hair. “To be honest,” you murmur, “I’m not sure I’d believe you if you tried to tell me something similar about my father, either.”
Peter lets out a choked laugh. “Maybe that’s why we work together.”
Your lips curve upwards, still stroking his hair. His face is still buried in your shoulder. “Maybe,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head.
Peter shifts so that he’s leaning against the back of the sofa and you’re in his lap again. You turn so that you’re straddling his waist, but your fingers find his jaw to cup the skin there. Your thumb brushes soothingly against his skin.
“You mean a lot to me,” Peter murmurs, staring up at you. It’s almost as if the music in the room has stopped; it’s almost as if the two of you are the only souls left in existence. His brows are slightly raised and there is awe in his voice as he says, “I don’t really believe you’re real half the time.”
You let out a soft laugh. “Definitely real, Peter. Definitely here.”
“Yeah,” he says, his tone riddled with amusement, “and here of all places. You could be anywhere. You’re like, perfect and—”
“Ssh,” you murmur, pressing a finger to his lips. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here with you.”
Peter tilts his head up towards you, a silent request for consent, and you kiss him in answer.
He wraps his arms around your waist as he deepens the kiss, your tongue slipping out to meet his own. He makes a low, guttural noise between pleasure and content at the feeling of it, and your free hand clutches at his shirt as your other hand remains at his jaw.
You spend the rest of the evening like that, whether it's on the sofa or in his bed, but in those moments together there’s nothing carnal about it. Your touches are soft and comforting rather than lustful and yearning, and as much as you’ve thought about him that way before, you know that now’s not the time.
Tonight, you both need this. Tonight, your sole purpose is to be there for one another.
“And for the record,” Peter murmurs between kisses, his words random and uncalculated, “I think your tragic backstory’s way worse than mine.”
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: peter maximoff x reader 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: it’s your first date with peter maximoff, and the tension between the two of you has been building for weeks. you share a passion like no other, and there's only one place this date can go: the dark back alley of the arcade, a place where no soul dare to go lest they bare the damned title of 'staff'. or quicksilver and scribe, i guess. you pick. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+, sexual innuendos, peter and reader are early to mid twenties, british reader (sorry americans <3), make out scene and sexual attraction 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: the character that features as y/n in my fics is known by the mutant name “scribe” and is charles xavier’s niece.
Your date with Peter comes around the corner faster than you thought it would considering you’re not exactly the typical ‘student’ at Xavier’s School.
You’d thought it would take forever for the week to pass: typically, you spend your time waiting for your friend group to get out of lessons. You’re older, having graduated school when you lived in the United Kingdom, so the only lessons you attend are that of Power Efficiency, Mutant Physiology and Ethics, the latter two being optional and studied merely out of interest. The rest of your schedule consists of a lot of free time. You don’t work—with all the money you have, why would you? Uncle Charles keeps nagging you to do something with your time, something productive, but after what you went through in England with your father…
Making friends here was difficult enough. Dealing with your powers in a new situation—coming to this school—was enough. You’re not exactly an extrovert, either, which is why you’re so surprised that you and Peter click so well.
He’s eccentric and annoying and perfect. Okay, perhaps not perfect in a literal sense, but to you he is. Sure, his leather jacket kind of smells from age and sometimes he talks so fast that you find yourself struggling to keep up, but you find it endearing. And oh, those eyes—you could watch how they light up when he’s super excited about something forever, you think.
He’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a while. You wonder if Charles knew what he was doing when he made Peter your buddy upon your arrival at this institute, but in reality, you know it’s because you’re both the oldest students—almost-students?—at this school. Besides, Charles has seen the two of you work together as a chaotic duo, and you’ve heard the sighs and mutterings of the man when he’s been most exasperated because of the both of you. Why, you think, grinning at your reflection in the mirror, would he ever put himself through that chaos if he could avoid it? The first prank you articulated together was the beginning of many, and you’ve practically been inseparable since you first arrived here.
First it was friendship. Then… yeah, it didn’t take much at all to blossom into something more.
You look good, you think, smoothing down Peter’s Rush tee as it hangs oversized on your body. You look really good. Your style is what would be expected of Charles’ niece even despite the fact that you’ve only ever met him a few times in your life: classy, 10% preppy, academic to a fault. You typically match your clothes to the colour of your powers: blue, but azure in particular. Sometimes pastel blue. You’re particular like that. But tonight you’ve opted for something different. Something a little more… Peter.
Your hair falls naturally past your shoulders, and the cool sleeves of a black leather jacket—your father’s leather jacket, the only leather jacket you own—hang from your shoulders while the jacket itself stops at your thighs. It's too big for you. You’ve paired a black skirt with the shirt, but it’s free flowing and a soft material that practically blends in with Peter’s top. Your boots are chunky platforms, black, and this is the darkest your outfit has been in a while.
It still feels… you, though. It feels right. Maybe because Peter feels right, and you stole this tee from him after you stayed over that night in his basement when it was pouring with rain. You both knew you could’ve opened up a portal to get back to your dorm, but neither of you wanted that.
You both want this, though. You both want each other.
The very acknowledgement of that fact forces you to take a steadying breath in, but the sound of a knock at your door makes your breath stammer. You look at the clock frantically. Is he here already? You both agreed on seven thirty, and it’s only seven. You had a schedule. Arcade, dinner, and whatever was left for after. Maybe a kiss if you work up the courage. Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought. But—
“Ah—hello?” A familiar voice sounds from the door. You breathe a sigh of relief: Kurt. “I came to see if you needed help with anyzi—”
You cross the room to the door and open it before Kurt can finish his sentence.
Kurt grins. As usual it’s a sheepish grin, but there is excitement in his eyes.
“Excited?” Kurt asks. “I vould be if I vere going on a date with ze magnificent Quicksilver.”
You grin at him and roll your eyes, ushering him in the room before you close the door behind you. “Don’t say that in the hallway!” You scold him, not entirely serious. “Anyone could be listening.”
Kurt raises his eyebrows. “Could it be that you are embarrassed?”
Your eyes widen, brows rising too. “No! It’s just—it’s nice now that things between us are private. And… I want to take things slow. I’ve been on dates before, and when you tell people about it it’s always the same thing: when are you going to do this? When are you going to do that? I don’t want to be pressured. And explaining my reasoning to want to take things slow is almost as tiring as actually working myself up into confidence so that I’m not nervous the entire time—”
“You definitely seem nervous.”
You scowl at your friend. “I am not nervous.”
“Your cheeks are red.”
At that, you know your face is starting to flush as red as a tomato. “You are insufferable sometimes.”
Kurt grins. “A few weeks ago, I vould have been hurt to hear you say this.”
You scoff, batting him playfully on the arm. “Are you going to walk me down to the common room or not?”
Kurt’s face takes on an air of confusion. “Ze common room? Why there?”
You shrug softly. “Peter is meeting me there.”
Kurt’s eyes light up with amusement. “Ah,” he responds, and you know by the exaggerated upwards tilt of his head that the next words out of his mouth are going to be sarcastic. “Very discreet, yes. I bet he will bring flowers.”
You scoff once more, parting your lips in playful annoyance as you turn to leave the room, but Kurt appears in front of you before your hand reaches the doorknob. He opens the door, extends his hand to you when his back is pressed against it, and the bow he delivers is nothing but formal. Gentlemanly. He probably learned it in the circus. You give him a teasingly formal nod as you accept his fingers in your own.
The door closes behind you, locks with a wave of your hand, and with a deep breath, the two of you venture down the halls of the manor.
***
You hear the sounds of people cursing at Peter before you actually see Peter.
You and Kurt turn to look at the double doors which lead into the common room at the same time, but Peter comes to a speedy stop in front of the both of you before you can even track his movements… and Peter’s eyes glaze over your appearance, your outfit, as his face pales.
You smirk at the sight of it. You know he likes it. Likes seeing you in his clothes. He looked at you the same way when you first walked out of the bathroom attached to the basement in his tee and grey shorts after that night in the rain. He had slept on the sofa then, had given you his bed, but he’d mentioned to you a couple of days after that his sheets still smelled like a mix of him and you.
You knew then that he couldn’t get the image of you wearing his clothes out of his head.
His outfit isn’t a change from what he usually wears, but he still looks amazing. Hot. The sight of him takes your breath away every time you see him. Silver-and-black jacket, white tee with a band insignia on it, and leather pants with his silver shoes. You can’t forget the goggles on his head, either. But—wait, no, there is something different. A sort of smell.
“What are you wearing?” You ask, the end of your sentence tinged with laughter.
Peter glances down at his outfit. “What?” He asks, confusion—and the slightest bit of worry?—in his gaze. “What's wrong with this?”
“No, silly,” you laugh, “your aftershave. What is it?”
It’s the very definition of seventies musk. It’s musky, leathery, and there’s the faintest smell of whiskey. He’s put way too much on, but your mother always used to complain about how much perfume you put on, too. You’re wearing it now: it’s sweet with the air of something more expensive. Valentino.
When you asked the lady in the store to let you try the ones which smelled sweet like vanilla, this was the first one she showed you. Out of the eight you had the choice of, you were sold on the very first one. You know that the best way to get a guy to fall for you is to smell sweet like candy—it reminds them of their childhood. Or in Peter’s case, you guess it might just remind him of twinkies. You know he loves those.
Peter’s cheeks flush red, and he lowers his head as he laughs. “Oh, man. My mom was right. I really stink, huh?”
You can’t help but laugh: a genuine laugh, teeth in your smile and all. You stand from the sofa you were sitting on with Kurt, and you realise only then that he’s already disappeared. You feel a twinge of guilt for not noticing earlier, but you forgive yourself for that: it is your date night, and Kurt is forever polite.
“You smell great, Peter,” you say, and it’s not entirely a lie. He doesn’t smell bad — it’s better than the leather jacket smell. “And I’m excited for our,” you glance around, whispering, “date.”
Peter’s eyes light up at that. “Right. Date. You mind if I—?”
He gestures to your neck. Whiplash. Right. You shake your head. “Just don’t mess up my hair.”
He blinks at you. “Do you realise how much of a challenge that is?”
Your smile is sickly sweet and riddled with sarcasm. “You’ll figure it out.”
His expression goes slack. He likes it when you do that; when you’re mean to him. You’re a lovely person typically—you reached the lucky end of the trauma spectrum, the opposite of which being the angry side which could’ve made you an arse—but it’s so easy to tease Peter. You like the power in being able to wrap him around your finger. You’ve never had this power over any man before, and after feeling powerless for so long, it's thrilling.
Peter clears his throat, steps towards you, and you swear he’s trying to use the lightest touch possible as he steadies your neck and places a shaky hand on your waist—
And then you’re off.
The world is barely more than a blur. You can’t keep up. Just as you think you’ve gotten used to it, Peter turns a corner—or at least you think that's what happens, because that’s how you would describe the sensation of being almost jolted to the side. And just when you think you can’t take any more, he stops. You’re in the mall, right outside the blue-walled and darkly lit arcade.
Peter’s hands move gently from your body and you lean your hands against your thighs to try to stop the world from spinning. You’ve gotten used to the nauseating feeling this sort of travel gives you now, but you’re not used to the dizziness.
“You okay?” Peter asks, and you can see out of the corner of your eye that he’s assessing you for any potential damage. His hand hovers over your back as if he’s afraid to overstep his bounds, but you would lean into his touch any day.
“Yeah,” you breathe, slowly easing upwards. “I’m good.”
Peter glances over your face in another silent check before he nods. “You ready to get your ass kicked?”
You gape at him. Yeah, that sarcastic comment has knocked the dizziness right out of you. “Oh, you’re on.”
You’re less confident than you seem, but you don’t think Peter picks up on it as he grins and bouncily makes his way into the Arcade. You follow him, shoulder brushing against his as you catch up to his gait, because luckily you both walk fast. He turns to look at you and smiles, softer this time, and you almost get caught up in the softness of his eyes before your heart stammers, your throat closes up, and—
Oh, god. You’re not good with this. The romance. It makes you tense and nervous.
You turn away from him, hands wrapping around the controls of the nearest arcade game. “I call shotgun.”
Peter laughs and comes to a stop next to you. “I know you’re British and that makes you, like, socially awkward, but that only applies to cars.”
You nudge him in the side—hard, but not hard enough to really do damage. He hisses in annoyance, muttering jeez, lady, under his breath. You ask, “Are you really going to deny me my request on our date?”
Peter grins at you, fingers clenching around the neighbouring controls. “Depends. What do I get out of it?”
You smirk at him, your heart fluttering in your chest. “A kiss or two at the end of this, perhaps.”
You watch Peter’s adam’s apple bob. “Per—perhaps?”
You grin. “Depends how you behave.”
You don’t need to read thoughts like your uncle to know that Peter has to be telling himself to breathe. Because it seems like an awful lot of effort for him to successfully inhale and exhale, and he doesn’t say anything before he slams a coin—a quarter? you don’t understand American money—into the machine and the BEGIN GAME screen buzzes to life.
It’s pretty hard for you to catch your breath as you both play in silence, too.
Eventually, conversation picks back up again. A sarcastic comment. The occasional compliment. Peter’s good at these games, but so are you. Arcade stand after arcade stand, his teasing remarks make your heart flutter… as well as something deeper within you, too. You’ve never felt attraction like this before, and truthfully, it’s driving you wild.
“Dad wasn’t around much back home,” you reveal, your eyes glued to the avatar on the screen as it darts around, “so I had a lot of time to kill. The arcade became my home. So yeah, it’s safe to say I can easily kick your arse.”
“Arse,” he teases, mimicking the way you speak. “Trying to let me let you win with a sob story, Xavier? Nah, not going to work.”
You gape at him, taking your eyes off the screen for a mere second, but Peter takes the opportunity to kill your avatar for good. With mock outrage, you quip, “I was not trying to do that!”
He grins at you, his eyes glowing purple and red in the light of your dying avatar. “Ah,” he whispers, “victory tastes sweet.”
You press your lips together in defeat, and then you sigh as you take your hand in his. “Come on. I want a slushie.”
Peter lets you drag him away, and the two of you settle down at the food stand in the arcade as the lights around you buzz blue and purple.
You like the lighting in here, you think, as you step up to the worker. “Two slushies, please,” you tell him, smiling politely. “One red and blue for me, and Peter—?”
“All of them,” he says, nodding towards the flavours.
You part your lips in surprise. All of them? There are about eight flavours up on that display, and you know it’s all going to melt into a mess of slush that barely tastes like anything other than sugar. But the worker has obviously been asked for worse, because he just shrugs and gets to work. One pump, two pumps, three pumps—he goes through them all with the finesse of someone who has worked at a place like this for far too long, and when he hands you your simple two-flavoured slushie in comparison to Peter's complex one, you feel like a bit of a slushie fraud.
You go to reach into your pocket to grab your card, but Peter pays in cash before you can get it out. The cashier gives him a dollar and seventy two cents change, and your date nods in thanks to the cashier before he turns to you with a grin that’s more genuine than cheeky. “My treat.”
You lower your gaze to hide how wide your smile is as you laugh. “Thanks, Peter.”
He nods, and the two of you stand there awkwardly for a second, you sucking innocently on your straw as he stares at you, before he looks at the table and chairs nearby. He clears his throat. “Wanna sit?”
You shrug politely and he pulls out a chair for you. Gentleman. Did his mother give him a run-down of what to do and what not to do before he came here? Probably. You smile at him, your insides warming as you sit down in your seat. This slushie is good, you think, slurping it up through the straw as Peter takes a seat opposite you.
He takes a sip of his drink before he asks, “So the thing about your dad. I know it’s a sore subject considering…” He raises his brows, and you know he means the reason you came here. “But do you mind if I—?”
“No,” you say, shaking your head. You have too much slushie in your mouth, though, so your words are slurred and you smile bashfully as you cover your lips. Sorry, your look says, but he just grins at you.
Peter forces himself to look away, to turn serious again, as he scratches at a loose bit of film on the table. “Why wasn’t he around? Like, the deadbeat dad kind of thing, or…?”
You shake your head. This time, when you speak, you’ve cleared the slushie from your mouth. Your voice is a bit hoarse from the cold as you respond, “No. He worked a lot. He was either in Germany or the Middle East or—somewhere. Mom has a temper, so I found the arcade was a better place to be than home. It’s easy to lose yourself in the games here.”
Peter nods slowly, his head tilting up in a way that indicates thoughtfulness. It’s nice that he’s memorising your words. Nice that he actually cares. That means more to you than anything. “Well, that makes two of us. Absent fathers, I mean, and moms…?”
You grin at him. He's talked about his father before, but always in vague detail. You respond, “Almost-there moms. Just emotionally absent, at least for me. Maybe stunted is the right word.”
Peter lets out a sound between a noise like phew and a laugh. “Harsh, Y/N. No sugarcoating it there.”
You shrug softly, lowering your gaze to your drink. “Sometimes I wonder if…”
Your sentence trails off, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Peter tilt his head. But he doesn’t say anything. Just lets you take your time as he continues picking at the table.
You force a breath. “Sometimes I wonder if what happened… happened for the best. Between the three of us, nobody was happy. But then I think of what I did to him and it’s just—”
“Hey,” Peter says, and across the table, his hand reaches out to splay across yours. “For people like us—mutants,” he says, his tone lowering at the end of his sentence, “stuff like this is inevitable. But, uh… Charles has kinda helped me see that it’s the first step towards controlling this sort of thing. The first step to doing something better. And hell, Y/N, you’re already, like, rockin’. So you only have further to go.”
Your brows furrow in surprise at his words, your eyes turning doe-like at his reassurances. “You don’t think I’ve already hit rock bottom?”
Peter laughs. “You’ve got too much money for that. I've seen you blow two-fifty on curtains. Still don't know how I watched you do it."
You let out a laugh, and that’s when you properly acknowledge the skin to skin contact. His touch makes your body feel like it’s on fire. Your shoulders roll back as your thumb brushes against his knuckle, and Peter’s eyes dart down to your fingers before he looks right back up at you. He looks nervous, like his heart is thudding just as hard as yours.
“I like this,” you whisper. “Thank you.”
Peter lets out a huff of laughter, though from the sound of it, it’s an attempt to hide his nerves. “It’s only a slushie, Xavier."
Your laughter mimics his own, and you press your lips together as your eyes dart between his eyes and lips. You want to kiss him. You’ve never wanted to kiss somebody more. It’s like you could push him up against the wall and kiss him here and now without caring what anybody thinks, and you’ve never had that feeling before.
Peter’s throat bobs again. He’s staring at you in the same way, and you can feel the tension between the two of you as your chest tightens. But you can’t kiss here—not with the table between you, not when one of you will probably spill a slush puppy or both of them, or—
“Another game?” Peter says, his voice hoarse.
You blink the lust out of your eyes. Another game. Yeah—another game, and your slush puppy will melt between and it’ll be easier to drink, and then—
And then you can both get out of here.
You’ve never wanted to leave an arcade more.
The tension cools down a little as you play more games, but it rises as soon as you make a comment about his frantic button mashing movements; something like—
“I hope that’s not the technique you use in bed,” you tease.
Peter chokes, and needless to say, you win that game.
You keep playing until your slushies are finished. Peter finishes his before you, but he lets you have a sip before in order to try it. It’s just as you expected—a sugary mess with the strongest flavour being lime. It’s disgusting, but Peter merely grins at the sight of your face as you grimace at its sour taste.
You’re well aware of the way his gaze rakes up and down your body as you try to finish the rest of your slushie as fast as you can. You’re lingering now; the two of you want to get out of here, dinner be damned. His gaze hugs the curve of your body and lingers on your bare legs, your skin smooth and shaven, the boots you wear only elongating them—
“You look great, by the way,” Peter comments.
You look up at him while still sipping from that straw, and apparently the motion and the eye contact is too much for him. He looks away and mutters something under his breath, something you can’t hear over the beeping of the games and the music playing over the sound effects.
You slam the slushie cup down on the table next to you both with an air of achievement. “What?” You say almost teasingly. You know you’re driving him insane, and even though you’re hardly doing anything, this has been building up for weeks.
“Nothing,” Peter says.
Before you know it, his hand is at your neck and you’re in a different spot entirely.
It’s a short journey this time so you’re not dizzy. You’re still in the arcade, surrounded by the same blue walls and purple-hued lighting. But this area is darker and tucked away, and there’s a door nearby. Probably a staff entrance. This is somewhere you shouldn’t be, but for once, you’re not afraid of breaking the rules.
“The cups,” you comment teasingly. “We should clean them up.”
Peter lets out a breath. “Y/N,” he says, “I—"
“Kiss me,” you blurt out. “Please.”
Peter wastes no time in fulfilling your request.
He’s on you in a heartbeat, lips pressed against yours as his fingers rest at your neck. Innocent, sweet, and yet filled with a sort of passion that sets your lungs and chest ablaze. You can’t help the noise of content that slips from your lips as he backs you up against the wall, and you can’t help but think that this is so unlike him, but—no. No, this is what he’s been keeping buried down for weeks. It's the same for you, too. This is what he’s wanted to do to you for a while now.
This is only half of what he’s wanted to do to you for a while now.
You gasp as his tongue slips out against yours, and your own darts out in response to the sensation. You press your body flush into his, the both of you heated and warm from the feel of one another, and your jacket is quickly getting too hot to keep on any longer. It’s cool in here with the air conditioning, but even so the two of you are ablaze and alive and—
“Y/N” Peter whispers against your lips, his nose brushing against yours as he pants for breath, “d’you think we could leave dinner for tonight?”
Your body talks for you before your mind can register what he says. "Yes," you breathe, and then you pull him back to you.
His lips are on yours and there is nothing either of you need to say as his fingers roam down your shoulders, your arms, moving to your waist. He avoids your breasts and you’re grateful for that; despite how much your body might burn for him, you know that would make you feel like an object, like he only wants you for sex—like your mother has told you countless times before.
But as you and Peter kiss in the belly of that arcade, you think you might have found the one. The first person you can finally trust.
It might be the first date and you might want to take things slow, but this feels too good to pass up. Too good to lose. And because of that, you don't plan on letting him go—
Not unless he wants you gone first.
Not until a member of staff kicks you guys out, at least.
Hi! Can I get a marvel ship please? Straight 5'9 girl with curly hair and hazel eyes. Introvert. Gryffindor. Childish. Very protective of my friends. Dirty sense of humor. Kind hearted. Would probably be an awful fighter but would be determined to improve. Hobbies are piano and archery. Easily jealous. Likes affection but not in public. Sarcastic. Sings a lot. Speaks a little French. A bit antisocial. Over emotional. Loves animals especially dogs. Thanks! 🖤
Hello! I ship you with Clint Barton and think you would be best friends with Pietro Maximoff.
Apart from a shared interest in archery and dogs, you and Clint share a kindhearted, protective, sarcastic, witty, and introverted personality. You and Clint both have a similar sense of humor, so I can imagine you all joking with each other constantly. Sarcasm would be a particularly well-represented form of humor wherever the two of you are. He shares your stance on public displays of affection, so that wouldn’t be a problem. Clint would love to help you improve your fighting capabilities so that you may work more with him on missions. Should you ever be upset in his presence, Clint would understand that you are a passionate and emotional person and would always try to give you space to sort out your feelings, or provide advice and support depending upon your needs. He’d bring over his dog, Lucky, to help cheer you up as well. Clint would love to listen to you play piano and sing. I imagine he’d make song requests too. He can be childish at times and that would lead to some fun pillow fort building activities, pillow fights, and cookie dough munching together. Clint would love your chivalrous, brave, and determined attitude and I just think you two would be very supportive of each other. Serious moments would be a bit scattered and random, but I think the two of you would have a lot of fun and just be really great for each other. I seriously think you two would be the definition of relationship goals.
Pietro Maximoff would be your closest friend because he shares your protective, loyal, brave, sarcastic, witty, childish, and determined nature. I think he would really balance you out because he is outgoing and flirty whereas you are introverted and more demure. Pietro would encourage you to participate in some larger gatherings and he might be a bit pushy, ultimately though, I think he would understand that large crowds can be draining and overbearing for you. I think once he would realize this, he’d make an effort to make sure people give you some level of space at an event and would stay close by to take the brunt of the social communication of others. He would think it’s great that you play the piano and sing and I think that he would love to listen to your musical pursuits. I think you two would be major troublemakers due to your childish and emotional attitudes combined with your fierce bravery. You and Pietro would participate, start, and win in many prank wars. Pietro and you just seem like a good fit!
*** Note- When submitting a Marvel ship request, I'd greatly appreciate it if you all would specify whether you want an Avengers ship, X-men ship, Agent Carter, etc. Or all of the above. If you leave it at Marvel, I'll most likely assume that you are fine with any Marvel character (comics, MCU, X-Men, AoS, Agent Carter).
My Little Droplet
Pietro Maximoff x Reader (GN) | SFW
Previous Chapters: Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch.5, Ch. 6
Chapter 7
Summary: Getting a new change of scenery, you guys try to come up with plans on how to survive through this temporary change until you can get answers. The four of you hope you can get by with the aid of your colleagues, though it isn’t Steve, nor Bucky.
Warnings: AU, Swearing
Word Count: 2,513
Czech Translations:
Kapička- Droplet
Drahý- Dear
Song Suggestions: Where Will I Go- Brief Encounters, Let’s Live For Today- The Grass Roots, Evil Is Going On- Canned Heat, Freaking Out The Neighborhood- Mac DeMarco
₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄ ₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄
You turned to look at each other, letting the radio host’s announcement sit. “But how?” Wanda mumbled.
You didn’t have any leads as to what could’ve possibly led to another time jump. You suggested that the crash might’ve caused it, though Vision shook his head to the suggestion. “It doesn’t seem likely. Last time this occurred, we were in the diner, not the car, which only voids us of an answer.” He stated while picking up a piece of mail from the floor and grabbing a pen. He began to jot down the years they were dropped into and the events that took place beforehand.
You peered at the paper inquisitively. “What’re you doing?”
“Taking note of our circumstances every time this transpires, so we could potentially find a correlation.” He sighed after writing down the last word onto the piece of mail. “And hopefully a cause.”
A frown started to etch itself onto Pietro’s face once he ripped his gaze from the paper to look up at you all. “So we bought clothes for nothing?”
Wanda took a deep inhale and turned to look out the car window. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue with you.”
“It was money spent on nothing! And what happens when we run out? We don’t have the money Tony has!”
Your brows furrowed at this. “He’s got a point. We don’t know how long we’ll stay in here and if the money we have will be enough.” You started to bite your nails anxiously as you tried to think of ways to deal with this situation. “We should keep the things we buy within this car. The car so far has come with us, regardless of location, so it looks like our best bet.”
“Looking for brief jobs could be a start to saving if that’s the case then. Or if we’re fortunate enough to have an avengers-esk team in this reality, then we might be able to get employed for the time being. And maybe get answers.” Vision added.
Wanda reluctantly nodded and huffed; hating to admit her brother had a point. She gazed at the flickering neon lights from a sketchy motel and grimaced a the sight. “A place to stay as payment would be nice too.”
“Can you not zap us into an apartment?” Pietro faced you.
You shook your head. “It doesn’t work like that. I can only transport myself so far.” You said in slight frustration. “Still working on transporting people with me.” You muttered the last part.
“I get why they needed me now.” He taunted under his breath; earning a flick on the forehead from you and his sister. He rubbed the spots after slapping both of your hands away. “Why am I always targeted?! Vision never has to endure this.”
His sister rolled her eyes. “Vision is not annoying.”
The compliment seemed to catch him off guard, judging by the red pigment dusting his human colored skin. “Oh, thank you. I think.”
“No problem, Vis.”
“Okay so Vision is amazing. Great!” Pietro then gestured to the building across the street. “Where are we going to stay at tonight, cause that motel over there should not even be in service.”
“The only thing we can do is drive around to find another place. Unless a store that sells a map of the town is still open at-” You check the time written on the car radio. “1:34 in the morning. And even if we do buy a map, we don’t know how long it’ll be useful for before we jump into another fucking world!” You sighed exasperatedly; your hands covering your face as your head dropped. You could feel a headache coming on by the uncertainty of all this. You hated not knowing how long this would last and how you could make this work for a long period of time, if it came to that.
Pietro’s demeanor softened as he saw you hide behind your hands. He carefully reached out and gingerly brought them down onto your lap. “It’ll be fine. We will find somewhere to stay at, and if not tonight, we have the car, no? Then when the sun comes up, we will search for a motel. Hopefully one that does not have a sign that will fall onto us the moment we enter.” You snorted at the description. “If we find ourselves here for more than a day, we will do what you and Vision have said and take it one step at a time, okay? We will get out of here. It might take time. And that’s okay. All that matters right now is that we can find somewhere to sleep at.” He murmured while peering into your eyes, gently squeezing your hands in his. “And I don’t want to find out what you’re like in the morning when you don’t have a goodnight sleep.” A toothy smile found it’s way onto his face once your eyes rolled and a smile broke out. “Y’know, I can run around the city until I find a good place that’s open?”
You frowned. “It’s like stupidly hot right now though.” Even though his idea really would help, you did feel guilty if he had to run in the heat like this.
“I’ve been through worse, kapička. But your pampering flatters me.” He winked; the wide smile remaining on his face. “Wait here, I’ll be back.” And just like that he was gone with only a gust of wind left to take his place.
You fixed your being and fluttered your lashes; your eyes adjusting to the abrupt charge of air that just hit it. “I do wish he gave us more time to prepare when he did that.”
Less than five seconds later, he came back and was seated. He held his hand in his lap, though it seemed as if he was discreetly angling it away from you. One slight tilt to the left was enough for you to catch a glimpse of the blue ink on it, and the lines marking his hand. He turned to look up at you and swiftly put his hand back down onto his lap. “Take a right.”
“He needs to write down how to get somewhere when he gives someone else directions. Or else he’ll forget cause he is not going at the speed he typically goes at.” Wanda said unamused as she leaned into the space between the two front seats.
“Y’know it doesn’t cost you to keep quiet.”
“You were going to make a fool of yourself if you kept looking down at your hand throughout the whole ride. I just saved you from further embarrassment, you should be thankful.”
Pietro grumbled at that and continued with giving you directions until you found a safe enough motel and booked a room. You all got rest and went to nearby stores for luggages and clothes the next morning. You each shopped for a few clothing items, just in case you did get transported after a day. You kept them in the car when not in use after buying; testing to see if your theories were correct for the next time it occurred. You also bought a few basic necessities in small increments for the same reason.
You each got ready for the day with your new outfits and repeated the process from two days ago. Except instead of proving if this were an alternate timeline, this time you were looking for evidence of your teammates potential existence in this world. And as if hearing your pleas, it didn’t take long to find that they did. Or at least two of them did. Clint and Nat. The thing was, they didn’t have an agency like S.H.I.E.L.D. but were rather faceless vigilantes. You figured you could work with that. The issue was finding a way to get in contact with them.
That is where the four of you found yourselves; waiting in dangerous parts of the city, hoping to catch one of them in the midst of a fight. That plan didn’t go over well as three nights had gone by and nothing.
“They are not going to show up.” Pietro said after 20 minutes of waiting on the fourth night. “It’s only two of them in this city, there’s no way we’ll spot them like this.”
“What do you suggest then?”
“Get their attention.” He shrugged.
You raised your brow. “How though?” He dashed off and came back in less than a second with a bandana on his head and two holes cut where his eyes would be.
“Join the action.” He grinned and held out bandanas and ski masks.
Wanda took a bandana. “You could’ve just tied it around half of your face.”
“I needed to cover my hair.”
“It barely covers it. Use this, not the cloth.” Wanda plucked out a ski mask to hand it back to him while you and Vision took the two articles of clothing left.
Pietro was visibly upset at the suggestion. “It’s not as cool.”
The four of you went on to stalk different sections of the city; fighting lawbreakers with your new attire that Pietro supplied for you all by ‘borrowing’ after getting the head pieces. You all agreed upon not using powers, as it seemed this world hasn’t had superbeings, so you used hand to hand combat instead. You heard nothing from them that night, but at least the city caught wind of the four of you. And that in itself could’ve been the reason that on the fifth night, you were confronted by the pair after having taken down some criminals.
“Interesting suits. Pretty sure I saw that very shirt just three blocks down.” You turned around to see Clint and Nat behind you; weapons not held up but not fully put away either.
“Got these on discounts.” Pietro spoke up.
Nat tilted her head at that and raised her brow. “Wasn’t aware 13th street and 9th were having a sale?”
You turned to look at Pietro with furrowed brows as if asking “where did you get these?” He ignored your stare and responded to Natasha mockingly. “You keep track of all the clothes in the city?”
“We got some complaints.”
“I thought you were fighters not landlords.”
“Yeah well people talk when four new crime fighters enter the scene with theft already on their hands. Congrats, you made the headlines if that was what you wanted.” Clint held up a newspaper packet with four separate pictures of the four of you fighting in your ‘suits.’ “It’s how we got the complaints when residents saw their clothes on the front page.”
Pietro avoided the gaze from his twin, you, and Vision as he stared off onto the street. You shook your head and rolled your eyes before facing the duo in front of you. “Right, we’re sorry about that. We’ll return these in the morning. Guess we should’ve been careful about who runs errands for us.” You chuckled with a strained smiled; hoping Pietro caught the jab. “We really didn’t mean to get off on the wrong foot with you and the neighborhood.”
“As long as you don’t steal again, we’ll be in the clear.” The pair was about to leave, yet Clint turned around once more. “And you guys should keep the talking to a minimum when fighting or in your suits. Most of you have distinguishable accents. Just a heads up if you don’t want trouble with the law.”
Your eyes widened a smidge upon the realization. You weren’t a masked hero and the twins, and Vision, were meant to be maskless as well, when joining the team. It genuinely slipped your mind that you could get recognized by your way of speaking. So in an attempt to keep in contact with the vigilantes, and get guidance, you asked them if they could mentor the four of you. The two looked shocked and glanced at each other before returning their gazes onto you all.
“What are you guys some type of teen titans?” Clint teased.
Your mouth opened to make a retort but then closed back up. To be fair, you did have a robot, who may not have been half human, but felt and thought like one. And you had Wanda who was like a sorceress. Pietro was just…Pietro you guess. To his credit, he does have the confidence, flirtatiousness, and agility (except more enhanced) that resembles Nightwing’s; with a humor that mirrors Beast Boy’s. Plus, while you weren’t an alien, you could teleport.
Shit Clint was right to a degree without even knowing. And you were going to keep it that way too. You cleared your throat. “No, though some tips and tricks would help greatly. We can fight but the whole being discreet and covering our tracks is still new to us.”
They shared looks as if having a mental conversation until Nat nodded whilst letting out a sigh. “Alright then. Training starts tomorrow night at 8 on the dot. Bring new threads. Preferably ones that don’t have a five finger discount. Uh-” She held her index finger up and brought her other hand up to her ear while nodding. “Copy. We’ll get there soon.” She hinted at Clint that they had to go with the tilt of her head.
“Right, well nice chat, but we’ll have to cut this shor- Alright! Alright! We’re going! Jesus have some patience man, I can’t think when you’re yelling in my ear.” He huffed and nodded in acknowledgment towards the four of you; Natasha following along before taking off. Unfortunately, they were too quick to leave that you had failed to ask where to meet them at.
The next morning….
“This should be it.” You said once you finished folding the last clothing item. “I can’t believe you broke into these people’s homes.” You said under your breath while shaking your head.
Pietro collected the clothes from you and furrowed his brows. “I didn’t break into their homes.”
“Then how’d you get these?”
“From the clothes they hang outside to dry.” He shrugged. “Don’t leave your clothes out if you don’t want them to get stolen.” You gave him a deadpanned look, causing him to put his hands up in defense. “Hey, you said we needed to save, so I went with the best method! Look, all the stores were closed, and you didn’t like me stealing from a vendor yesterday.”
“So you stole from everyday people?”
“They’re getting it back are they not?”
“After we found out through Nat and Clint.”
“See? Perfect! It all worked out.” He taunted and then leaned in to peck your temple. Before you could react, he ran off; his words echoing in place of him, “Thank you for the help, drahý!” You hadn’t even processed the sound of something falling onto the bedside table, until the items caught the corner of your eyes. Pietro left you with your favorite snack and drink, along with a note that read “I said I’d get your snacks next time ;)”
——————————
A/N: Not much to say besides hoping you guys liked or okay with the change!
My Little Droplet
Pietro Maximoff x Reader (GN) | SFW
Previous Chapters: Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch.5
Chapter 6
Summary: Choosing to see a play with Steve and Bucky, the four of you go shopping for clothes to fit in with the times. You and Wanda simultaneously bother Pietro, causing him to grow irritated. The irritation transfers into the theater where you just happen to be lucky enough to sit beside Bucky and Pietro.
Warnings: AU, Swearing
Word Count: 2,120
Czech Translations:
Jdi do prdele- go to hell/piss off/fuck off
Miláček- Sweetheart/Darling
Kapička- Droplet
Drahý- Dear
Song Suggestions: Gimme Little Sign- Brenton Wood, Green Tambourine- The Lemon Pepper, I Heard it Through the Grapevine- Marvin Gaye, Full Moon, Empty Heart- Belly the Band
₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄ ₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄₊˚.༄
You rummaged through the clothing racks, trying to find outfits so that you could stand out less with your modern-day clothes. You picked out a shirt and held it up while thinking of what to pair it with.
“What’s his name again?” Pietro spoke up from behind you.
“Hmm? Who?”
“Steve’s friend.”
“Do you mean Bucky?” Vision replied while putting on a sweater Wanda had suggested he try on.
“Yes Bucky.” He muttered before messing with a mannequin’s pose. “He’s a bit much, no?”
Wanda withheld a smirk and responded with, “You would know best about that, wouldn’t you Piet?”
Pietro then scoffed at the notion. Your focus drifted onto them and you noted the same mischievous look in Wanda’s eyes that Pietro usually gets before he purposefully gets on someone’s nerves. You shook your head and stopped a grin from spreading onto your face as you went back to sifting through the hangers. “And what do you mean by that dear sister?” Sarcasm dripping off of the so called words of endearment.
“He’s a spitting image of you with the way he acts.” She paused to look at a blue dress, ignoring the offended and shocked expression Pietro gave her.
“Do you take joy lying on my name?” He muttered with somewhat raised brows and squinted eyes. “He does not resemble me at all. He comes on too strong and lays it on—what is it you say?” He turned to face you and Vision.
“Lays it on too thick?” Vision piped up.
“Yes, that.”
“I don’t know Pietro, sometimes you do.” You added to further fuel the fire Wanda started, earning you a slight smirk from her.
“Miláček, you too?” He said in dramatic disbelief. The puppy dog eyes he gave you, did make you feel a faintly guilty if only for a moment.
You shrugged and gave him a sympathetic smile. “You’re not that discreet.” This makes him look to Vision for confirmation.
“Uh, well- I’m not really sure what might be too much. That can be subjective, so it would depend on the feelings of the people you hit on.” Vision clearly wanted to stay out of it, attempting to be neutral so that he can simply go back to shopping.
“Kapička, am I too much for you?” Piet returned to facing you, still in disbelief. “Do I lay it down too thickly?” The tone he said it in pulled at your heart strings, but you couldn’t help chuckling quietly at the way he worded the last question.
“There’s nothing wrong with that.” You continued to tease him with your “consolation.”
He crossed his arms with a small pout on his face. “‘Yes’ as an answer would’ve hurt less.”
His sister rolled her eyes. “You are being dramatic.”
He rolled his eyes in return and huffed. He continued to follow you and Wanda through the store, holding the piles of clothes you all sought out before you went to the changing rooms. You modeled for each other, seeing which pieces were the best before heading to the check out.
Once all of you were ready, you drove to the library to meet up with the Bucky and Steve. After they directed you on where the theater was, the six of you bought a ticket and went in. You didn’t think much of your seating placement; not paying much attention as you all filed into your row. It wasn’t until you sat down and saw that Pietro was on your left and Bucky on your right, that you wished you had pre-planned the seating. Not that you have issue with either of them, but knowing that Pietro wasn’t exactly fawn of Bucky meant that his patience with him was thin. You simply sat and hoped the two of them didn’t do or say much for the next two hours.
An hour into the play and you started to shudder due to the theatre’s air conditioning. “You’re not cold are you hun?” Bucky whispered after he saw you shiver. He put his hands on his coat, signaling he was ready to take it off if you needed it.
“Oh you don’t have to, but thank you for the offer.”
“No really it’s fine. I’d rather not have you sit here cold. I’m sure the change in temperature here must be hard to adjust to.” He smiled and gently rested his sweater on you. “There. All better. Is that sitting comfortable enough for you?”
You nodded and smiled bashfully. “It’s sitting just perfectly, thank you. You sure you won’t get cold?”
“Don’t you worry ‘bout me, sweetheart, I got my own ways of staying warm. Plus your presence would’ve been enough either way.”
“Well that’s awfully kind of you then-”
“No, go on talk louder, I can still hear the play.” Pietro butted in while leaning towards the two of you.
Your head whipped towards him. “You didn’t even want to watch the play.”
“That was before I took a seat and paid for it.” He grumbled before leaning back into his seat once more. He sat there, shoulders tense and arms crossed, glaring at the play in front of him. Bucky was taken a bit aback, but didn’t make a comment as he returned to viewing the play. The three of you were quiet for awhile until Pietro leaned into your side and looked at you through his peripheral. “Are you actually cold?” He murmured.
“Kinda.”
“Do you want my warmth?”
You debated the answer and then nodded; moving closer to him once his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You felt the heat from his arm instantly warm you up, thanks to his superhuman makeup. You couldn’t help snuggling further, seeking more while Pietro secured his hold on you with his other arm joining in.
“Do you want?” He whispered softly as he took out a pack of m&ms.
You shook your head yes and grabbed a few pieces. “When did you get these?” You whispered back.
“When the stall man wasn’t looking as we passed by.” He said in a pleased tone while he ate one.
“Pietro!” A swift, but light, smack was felt on his abdomen.
“What, like an m&m would ruin his business? And if it does, he’s bad at selling.”
“It’s not right to steal regardless.”
“What if I get your favorite snack next time?” A cheeky grin painted his face. You raised your brows and pursed your lips as they sorta extruded. “C’mon don’t give me that, drahý. How about snack and drink? I know you’d like that.” He smiled when he poked your side. You chuckled while squirming away and nudged his hand.
“Hey Pietro, mind keeping it down?” Bucky whispered, purposefully mimicking Pietro.
The smile instantly left his face once he replied bluntly. “I do.”
“Be nice.” You butted in.
“You heard them Bucky.” Pietro looked over at him, only to receive a snap on his wrist from his bracelet. “Miláček-” He pouted.
“I meant you.”
“I was! I was…neutral.”
“Sure you were.”
“It’s okay, I’m sure he was just being earnest.” Bucky smiled politely, though in Piet’s eyes it was a fake smile.
“I was.” He curtly responded before looking at the play once more and subtly nudging you closer to him. The two of them stayed quiet for the rest of the play, deciding not to fuss anymore as Wanda and Steve’s glares kept them in line. Before splitting ways however, you made sure to set up plans with Steve and Bucky to show you another spot in the city for another day.
“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut?” Wanda said as soon as you dropped Steve and Bucky off.
Pietro groaned. “He was the one talking during the play. How is it that I’m rude for telling him to fuck off, but him talking isn’t?”
“You do things like that all the time, and now you care when somebody else does it?!”
“I do care cause he can’t stop flirting when we’re supposed to be watching something!”
“You do that to others as well!”
“Well I was watching the show!”
“Oh really? Name three characters, quick!”
“Jdi do prdele!” Pietro spat out, followed by some more Sokovian words exchanged between the twins. You and Vision shared glances. You opted for bringing the windows down to let the wind muffle their arguing and in the meantime, Vision turned the radio up and switched through the stations until he found one he liked.
Vision inched closer to you from behind your seat to whisper, “you think we should get a different room for them tonight?”
“Definitely.”
“Maybe ice cream too. Might help them cool off. And I would also like to try it.”
You couldn’t help but to smile at that. “Oh yeah, I guess you’ve never tried it before right?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Well we can head to an ice cream parlor after they’re calmer.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
After an hour of letting the two steam off in separate rooms, you and Vision eventually coax them into coming out for ice cream. The ice cream luckily ended up aiding in making them let loose once more. They even ended up both getting a scoop of strawberry and then a different flavor for their second scoop. You would think there would be a stark contrast between the way they added toppings to their ice creams, but they both went all out, which you couldn’t help but to find a bit funny.
“How do y’all like it?”
“Its delicious.” Pietro mumbled while stuffing his face.
Wanda agreed as she took another spoonful. “It’s sweet. I like that. Helps with this heat too.”
Pietro nodded along. “Sokovia never felt like hell.” He paused. “Well not when it came to high temperatures.”
“Y’all must be sweating your balls off then?”
They both shook their heads yes while they silently ate the rest of their dessert. The silence made you realize just how exhausted the heat had them as you watched the sweat beads drop from their foreheads.
“Do you feel the humid air?” You suddenly turned to Vision. You didn’t know much about him; being that he was born (at most) four weeks ago, and you only knew him for one week and some days.
“I can tell what the weather is but I don’t feel the pressures of it the way you may might. Except if it were extreme to the point of affecting my makeup.”
“Wow so you don’t even feel relieved from the ice cream?”
He chuckled slightly and shook his head. “Not really no, but it is interesting—texture wise.”
“You can’t taste it?!”
“I can’t taste any foods.”
“That does check out, but damn. I’m gonna have to ask Tony if he can like install a flavor palette for you or something.”
“I’m not sure it’s really necessary but I appreciate the thought.”
“You’ll be missing out on a whole world though! And it can help you with cooking.”
He gave you a quizzical look. “Cooking? But I don’t need to eat. In fact, it’s probably best I eat on occasion so I don’t ruin my mechanics.”
“True, but you can impress someone with your cooking skills.”
“Me being a robot wouldn’t make the cut?” His question ended up getting a snort out of you and the twins.
“Fair. It’s just another skill you can add to the list of things to impress someone with.”
“I’ll consider it.”
By the time you all finished, the sun was down and the crickets’ chirping followed you no matter which way you went. You were driving back to the motel with the windows down to combat the humidity. You had just stopped at a red light, humming along to a song playing on the radio when you were abruptly jolted as a result of a car crashing into you. Thankfully, Pietro was fast enough to ensure no one got injured. However, the thought was overshadowed by a shaking in the ground, and a thunderous noise that was soon followed by a bright flash. Each of you covered your eyes and then uncovered after awhile, wondering if you jumped timelines again. You looked around to see that it was still night, yet the car that crashed into you wasn’t there anymore. The radio sputtered, switching and glitching through stations until it steadied itself with the voice of a radio host coming through.
“And don’t forget to call in to enter our contest! One lucky caller could get a ticket to the Monterey Pop Festival this weekend. So make sure to mark your calendars for June 16th through the 18th cause ’67’s lineup will be a gas!”
—————————
Following chapters:
Chapter 7
A/N: Praying y’all liked this chapter! Also just wanted to clarify that y’all jumped like 4 years further into the 60s, since you entered it in 1963☝️🤓 And I’m trying to have Pietro be more true to his character cause I’m pretty sure in the MCU he is supposed to be sorta short tempered. So please tell me if y’all think something he said wasn’t Pietro-esk. Though it is kinda hard to make it true to him cause he’s literally only in one movie😭 That being said, it’s also difficult with Vision cause I swear they have him say like 5 lines in the whole franchise🗿
On another note, I like to imagine that the twins go all out on their ice cream toppings because it momentarily makes up for a childhood they never fully got to have. Something about a strawberry scoop for both makes sense to me and idk why.
This is also how I imagine them to be while/after eating ice cream on that hot ass day.
My Little Droplet
Pietro Maximoff x Reader (GN) | SFW
Chapter 5
Summary: After not finding the Avengers in the compound, you all head to a motel instead. You and Pietro find no luck in catching shut eye though, so you attempt to teach him to drive. The four of you then spend the next day searching for answers on your circumstances, causing you to bump into a familiar face and a friend to that familiar face, who happens to be very friendly.
Warnings: AU
Word Count: 1,809
Czech Translations:
Kapička- Droplet
Song Suggestions: She’s not there- The Zombies, Runner- Tennis, Before We Begin- Broadcast
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
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“We have the car.” Pietro stated as if it was obvious.
“If I damage her, Tony is going to kill me.”
“Tony can’t get to you right now.”
“Ok, but when we do get back, he’ll kill me. And I doubt he’ll excuse the fact that we just wanted to have fun.”
“Thats easy. We lie.”
At this point, it was past 12 a.m. The four of you had gone to a motel after heading to the compound, only to find it had ceased to exist. You weren’t exactly sure what that meant for the four of you. Had the team yet to be born? Presumably if it was the 60s, it checks out. Unfortunate for the lot of you however, as it meant you couldn’t get aid from the very people who knew how to handle supernatural phenomenons. And despite booking a motel room with two beds, you and Pietro seemed to be on the same page; struggling to sleep due to the ceaseless questions racking your brains.
That is where you found yourselves in the parking lot of the motel, attempting to make the hours pass. Pietro had just suggested to take the car out for a spin, being that he never had the need to drive nor learned how to. And you two argued for some time about it, though ultimately, Pietro was able to get through to you. You figured it may be best to have someone else who knows how to drive besides you and maybe Vision? You weren’t quite sure if he did, however you assumed he could given the whole robot thing. Either way, that left you here, teaching him how to drive, as you gripped onto the door handle for dear life.
“Alright you got that part down, now put some pressure onto the gas pedal again.” He put more than you anticipated, causing your grip to tighten. “Less! Less.” He adjusted his foot to the gas pedal.
“I thought I was doing okay.”
“Thought, not was. We can’t go too fast yet until you’ve got the basics down.”
“This will take forever.”
“It’s supposed to take some time to learn. Plus, this was your idea.” He slowed the car to a stop before looking over at you.
“I thought it would be quick and we could speed down the streets. Do a donut or whatever you call it.” You reached over to put the car in parking.
“Well you thought wrong.” He let out a puff of air while bubbling his lips. He gazed around, taking in the closed vintage shops before his eyes landed on you once more. His eyes then traveled down to your wrist before lightly plucking at your bracelet, allowing the bracelet to snap back at your skin. “Agh!” He snickered at your reaction. “You’re so-”
“Lovable? Fast? Endearing?”
“Pesky.” You retorted as you reached over to snap his bracelet in return.
A faux frown made its way onto his face. “That hurt!”
You laughed a bit while speaking. “To be fair, you could’ve moved on time instead of letting me do that.” He couldn’t harbor the grin he was trying to keep hidden anymore.
“It wouldn’t be fair.”
“I don’t think you’re one for fairness, Maximoff.” Your lips mirrored his.
“Only if I’m given reason. And you’re one of them.”
“You stole my fries earlier.”
He nodded sheepishly. “I wasn’t committed to the fairness back then.”
“And you are now?” You giggled softly.
“With my whole heart, mind, body, and soul.” He muttered dramatically while taking ahold of your hand, placing your palm over his chest, where his heart lied. He let his thumb glide over the back of your hand while you felt the fast beat of his heart. Quite unnaturally fast actually. Though that must be a given, due to his abilities. Some supernatural heartbeats passed by as you struggled to come up with a response. “You’re awfully quiet, kapička.” A prideful smirk transpired onto his lips. “Am I making you nervous?” His tone carried the usual teasing tone, but you did hear some genuine curiosity and concern laced into it. And with the way his eyes studied yours, it gave you further reason to believe so.
“Course not.” You retracted your hand. “Just didn’t expect you to grab my hand like that.”
He chuckled at that. “Do you not like that?”
You took a pause before responding. “I don’t mind it.” You said quietly into the night air while avoiding his look. If you turned back around, you were sure you’d see his shit eating grin once more. Surprisingly though, you weren’t met with a teasing response, just a “hm.” You looked at the time plastered onto the car’s clock. “We should head back, it’s getting late.”
“Can I drive us back then?”
“Definitely not.”
You two sneaked back into the motel room, careful not to wake Wanda and Vision up. You lied beside Wanda, ready to fall asleep, but not before thinking about your hand on him and how it made your heart race. You push the feeling and memories away, knowing there wasn’t much to it and let your dreams take over.
Once morning came around, the four of you headed out for breakfast while discussing how to get answers on how you ended up there and hopefully find a way out. “We’re in the 60’s that much we know.” You stated while offering some of your food to Pietro. He happily plopped a few pieces into his mouth while nodding and munching along.
“But are we in our 60’s or an alternate timeline?” Vision added.
Wanda turned to him after a moment of thinking. “Is there not some way we can test to see if it is?”
He paused before nodding. “You could be onto something. We can look for known events to figure out whether or not the timelines match up.”
“That’s a really good idea actually. Should we head to a library? We can even get some newspapers?” You chimed in.
You each collected books and newspapers for Vision to read, being that he was a fast reader and knew if the information aligned with your universe’s history. Two hours had gone by and you were in the history section, searching for any other history book that might’ve been missed. You ran your finger along the spine of the books as you read the labels and suddenly fell forward upon feeling someone bump into you. The person thankfully was quick on their feet and had made sure you didn’t hit your head on the shelves or floor whilst they repositioned you upright.
“Please pardon-” was all the stranger got out before you realized that the voice belonged to Steve. He looked like he usually does, but with a 60’s pompadour haircut that didn’t draw too much attention. “I really didn’t mean to bump into you, I’m so sorry. My friend just shoved me carelessly without looking.” He continued, looking back to give his friend a stern look. Your eyes followed his, seeing his friend was a brunette with a ducktail hairstyle. He happened to be built like Steve but in a slightly shorter stature. “Otherwise, we would’ve made sure not to put you at risk. Are you alright? You didn’t hit your head did you?”
You blinked a couple of times before nodding and laughing a bit nervously. “No yeah, I’m fine, just a little shaken up. You just look so familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Your name starts with an S right?”
He smiled warmly as he shook his head. “Steve, yes.” He held his hand out for you to shake while speaking. “I’m not sure I remember your name, my apologies. Would you mind reminding me?”
You gave him your name and attempted to see if you could get more information out of him. “Yeah yeah, I’m not sure if I saw you around or maybe on something like a newspaper?” You tilted your head in an innocent manner.
It ended up working, given that he gave you a wide smile and raised his brows. “Oh that’s a possibility-” he started until his friend butted in with an arm slung around Steve’s shoulders.
“Though it’s likely you saw Steve on TV, that’s where most of the beauties recognize him from.” To which Steve smacked his friend’s torso with the back of his hand.
“Please don’t pay him any mind.”
“Or pay me all of it, hun.” His friend offered a toothy smile and extended his hand for you to shake. “The names James, but you can call me Bucky.”
You returned the smile with a friendly one of your own and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you Bucky. I imagine you make the headlines too?” You took a wild guess. You weren’t sure what was true and what wasn’t. Steve being alive right now, and not trapped in ice, confirmed you were in a different reality. Though he looks the same age as he did since the 40’s, meaning he must’ve taken the serum. And given how his friend is built, you assume he might’ve too.
“Not as much as Steve, but if you’re looking for me, I’m sure you’ll find me.” He winked. “Is that your guy?” He flicked his head to signal behind you. You turned to find Pietro walking up to you and stopping right beside you. You turned back around, a bit wide eyed while shaking your head and laughing bashfully.
“Oh no, no, he’s a friend of mine. Bucky, Steve, this is Pietro, Pietro this Bucky and Steve.” You introduced them to each other. Pietro greeted Steve first and then simply gave Bucky a thin lipped smile when he shook his hand. “I was wondering if you two can possibly show me and my friends around here? We’re new to the place, and I’m assuming you two are well acquainted with it. That is if it’s not too big of an ask and if you two aren’t busy, of course.”
Bucky was the first to reply, instantly at that. “It would be no issue at all, angel face.”
“Would you want to know about any places in particular? There’s a theater a few blocks down if you want to see a play.”
“You’re gonna bore them to death, Steve. If you want something more worth your buck, there’s a club not too far that I’m sure you and your friends will enjoy.”
“Both sound great! Let me just check in with my friends to see which they’ll prefer. Or if you want to come along as well and get the introductions over with, we can do that too.” You said sweetly, praying that they would agree to it.
————————— Following chapters:
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
A/N: Y’all please forgive me for not writing for like a month, school got in the way unfortunately 👎 Though I also think it’s getting tough for other fanfic writers cause I swear me and the other 6 fans Pietro has, haven’t been writing as much, or maybe that’s just me, but it just feels like there’s less fics of him than usual❓besides school though, I rewrote this chapter like three times, not sure where I wanted to go with it (that’s on me for deciding to make it an AU), but I think I figured it out now! And I’m glad I redid this more than once cause now I like how it turned out and I hope you guys do as well!
My Little Droplet
Pietro Maximoff x Reader (GN) | SFW
Chapter 4
Summary: Sorta all over the place, but know these things are included:
Bracelet making
Sparring with Pietro (and getting in trouble)
Shopping/Dining with him, Wanda, and Vision
Chaos caused at the diner the four of you are in before everything seemingly goes back to normal
Warnings: Swearing, AU, mentions of “girls' day” (Although the activity brought up in this chapter is what classifies it as such, not reader’s gender☝️)
Word Count: 3,123 (Peep that order)
Czech Translations:
Krásná- Beautiful
Drahý- Dear
Miláček- Sweetheart/Darling
Song Suggestions: Sutphin Boulevard- Blood Orange, D>E>A>T>H>M>E>T>A>L- Panchiko, Message From Home- Broadcast
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
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As promised, the next day you had made a bracelet for him while the two of you talked. Eventually Wanda and Vision joined in to see how you were doing. You were still adjusting to Vision, being that he was a sentient robot. Though you suppose you have been through weirder things such as the invasion in New York. You pushed the thought away when Wanda’s voice rang through the room.
“Is that a bracelet you’re making?” She asked as she drew closer and peered at your lap. You nodded and smiled as you carefully held it up in your hand, making sure the beads and charms didn’t fall from the untied string.
“Yeah, I’m making one for Pietro. I could make one for you and Vision too if you’d like?”
“Really? What did my brother do to get into your graces like this?” She joked while Pietro, who was behind her and sitting on a chair, rolled his eyes. “It is very cute though. I would like a red and black themed bracelet if you can.” She then turned to Vision for his response.
“Oh! I would like one too, if you don’t mind. I’m not quite sure what colors however…maybe yellow and silver?”
“Alright, red and black for Wanda, and yellow and silver for Vision it is then.” You said as you started to finish up Pietro’s bracelet. You tied it off and handed it to him.
“Y’know this was supposed to be between me and them. You’re interrupting our girls day.” He faked a pointed look towards his twin. Wanda gave him a confused look.
“A girls day?”
“Uh yeah.” He said as if it were obvious while trying to mimic an American accent, failing to do so and raising the container holding the beads and ball of string.
“Making bracelets doesn’t make this a girls day.”
“Well it is enough for me to consider it one.”
“If we go by that logic, then I suppose it would still be one if me and Wanda join.” Vision interjected.
“Plus I’d rather do something than nothing if I’m going to be here for a few more days, and I always appreciate the company.” You glanced up with a gentle smile.
You knew Wanda and Pietro weren’t actually arguing, yet you wanted to reassure her and Vision nonetheless. The two situated themselves into chairs and conversed about how things were going for them in the compound so far, with the occasional dispute between the twins.
The days carried on like this. You tried to keep busy, Pietro by your side either talking or joining you in whatever you were doing, and Wanda dropping by either on her own, or with Vision, or Clint. And on days when your teammates didn’t have missions or other work to do, they would come in to see how you were doing and catch up.
Now that you have finished your one week of bed rest, you were in the clear to fight once more, and can move freely with no pain. However, because you were out for two weeks and rested for one more, you wanted to see if your skills were intact. You and Pietro planned to train and spar together, considering he was new to the team and needed to train regardless. So by the time you stepped foot into the room, you weren’t surprised to see he was already there.
“Ready to lose krásná?” He wore a grin with his arms crossed. You shook your head with a light smile gracing your lips.
“You’re going to regret that Maximoff.” You teased him back as you set your duffel bag down.
“If it’s you, I don’t mind it.” His voice dipped into a quieter and slightly lower tone, taking a few closer steps towards you.
“Already trying to distract me? Scared?”
“Never. Is it working though?” He questioned with a tilt of his head.
“Mm let’s be real.”
“Well I still have the rest of the session for it to work.”
“And if it doesn’t?” You asked while getting into position. “Powers or no powers?”
“Have faith in me.” He teased. “Let’s go with no powers first and then next round with.” He soon backed up and got into a fighting stance as well. Even if his strength is above the average human’s strength, you fought various times without your power, enough to get an upper hand on him this round. The next round unfortunately wasn’t as simple. You obviously knew he was fast and that was an issue. You had to think quickly before one of you made a move. But he didn’t give you much time as he knocked you to the ground, ready to keep you pinned to it. Thankfully your instincts kicked in and you shot a jet stream of water out of your hands, not knowing from which direction he would be coming. It ended up working though, as you heard a groan from across the room and spotted Pietro up against the wall. You teleported towards him and pinned him down once more, but not too rough, being that he just hit a wall.
“That wasn’t too harsh was it?”
“Please, I am not weak, drahý.” He ran his hand down his face to clear off the water droplets.
“I just want to be sure.” You jokingly put your hands up in surrender before standing up and then holding your hands out for him. He used your hands to stand and shortly after, pulled you towards him and began to shake his head, causing the beads of water to splash onto your skin.
“Pietro!” You gasped and tried to pull away, yet he held you firmly, wrapping his arms around you, while laughing as some of the water seeped into your clothes. His embrace was soon met with an empty space in his hold and he realized too late that you had gotten out. He was left with no time to react once he felt a light gush of water on the lower end of his back that traveled up his spine, causing him to spaz slightly from the ticklish feeling. It was your turn to laugh at his reaction now. Your laughter unfortunately only lasted for a few seconds, cut off by the grunt that left your lips when you came in contact with the padded ground. Everything after that was a blur as you and him tussled all over the room, for who knows how long, until the two of you were interrupted by the sound of the training room doors opening, causing the two of you to look up. Tony and Steve took in the sight of the now drenched training room and the headlock you had Pietro in, while Pietro had ahold of your thigh, ready to tug at it. Tony swiftly took his phone out to take a picture of the scene, likely to be used for blackmail, and then stored his phone away once more.
“Right, well when you two are done canoodling, go ahead and clean this place up.” Tony mocked and carefully treaded through the room to turn the fans on; Steve in tow.
“How long have you two even been in here?” Steve questioned and looked around the room, in awe by how much water landed on practically every surface. You both looked at the clock above the doorframe, though it was Pietro who spoke.
“About 30 minutes.”
Pietro’s response was soon followed by a lecture from Steve, who would now supervise your trainings to prevent the room from getting ruined again. The two of you just listened, staying in the position you were found in while looking at Steve. With that, he and Tony left, deciding to train after the place was cleaned up; leaving you and Pietro alone again. Once the doors closed, you looked down at Pietro while he looked up at you before you two busted out laughing. You let go of him, as he did the same, and fell backwards onto the mat, holding your stomach with one hand. By the time your cackles subsided, you let out an exhale and looked around the room that you now had to clean. Pietro, who was between your legs, laying back onto you, followed your line of sight.
“This should take less than 30 seconds to clean up.” Pietro spoke up, seemingly like he knew what you were thinking. You gazed down at him and raised your brow, so that he could continue on. “Can you absorb water?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s easy then. I’ll carry you around and you can use your ability.”
“That’s a good idea actually.” You muttered and soon felt your feet lift off the ground. It didn’t take long for you to understand what was going on and put your powers into use. Luckily it took less than 10 seconds, and you even managed to dry off both you and Pietro. Unfortunately, going fast at what feels like the speed of light made it difficult to stand up right for a few seconds once Pietro put you down. He kept a hold on your waist with his arm to provide stability before you found it.
“We should team up more.”
“We just started training together.” You chuckled at his comment.
“We work well do we not?”
“We do, but we’ll have to train more to see what’s the best way to operate. Though I don’t think we’ll be able to go all out if Steve is going to play babysitter.”
“Damn Steve.”
“Since when do you say damn?” You giggled a bit.
“Since I heard Clint say it.” You guys continued to talk while making your way out of the training area. You weren’t paying much attention to where you were going, until you glanced at your surroundings and realized you were in the dormitory wing of the compound. That’s when it you hit you that you’ve never seen his room and he hasn’t seen yours. You wondered if he has even decorated his yet. It didn’t take long for your curiosity to be quelled. He opened his door to reveal a basic room that had all the furniture yours had when you first moved into your bedroom.
“Do you have any plans on what you’re going to do here?”
“You sound like Wanda.”
“Then I know I’m asking the right things.” He smirked at that and lightly shook his head.
“I don’t know what to put here yet.” He muttered while his eyes drifted around the room. “I can’t remember the last time I decorated a room of mine.” He muttered once more, but his voice was quieter, almost as if he was trying to recall. The distant look in his eyes told you your assumptions were right.
“If you want a piece of advice, start with what you like. What you’re interested in or if you see decorations you enjoy, go with that. And if you want your room to be color coordinated, think of the paint color you’d choose first. If you don’t care for that though, just shop around and get what catches your eyes.” He took in what you said before nodding, as if a choice was made.
“It’s a good a thing you are already in this room then.” The mischievous expression he usually carries made its way back onto his face. You blinked and you were suddenly sitting up-right on his bed, with your back against the pillows and bed frame, while he was laying down next to you with his arms behind his head.
“I shouldn’t have told you anything.”
“As if you don’t like to be in the same bed with me.” He shot you a wink, only to be met with a flick on the top of his head. “Ow!” He moved his head away to rub it, and jokingly pouted. “You are so mean.”
“You are so flirtatious.”
“You bring it out of me.” He shrugged.
“Everyone brings it out of you.”
“You bring it out of me mostest.” You chuckled at that.
“It would just be most.”
“You got what I meant either way.” He flicked your thigh in retaliation before smirking up at you, to which you couldn’t help but to laugh a bit at.
“I did. So, have you actually thought of anything you’d want here?”
“I think I’d want more clothes first and then get a shelf with DVDs, so I can watch the sitcoms I used to see with my parents. Maybe change the furniture in here too. And the paint color. It’s boring.” He huffed through his nose.
“That’s a good start yeah.” After awhile you spoke up again. “When you do go shopping for your room, can I tag along?”
“Of course. You were going with me regardless. After all, I need someone to show me around the city.” He smiled up at you, and you returned the act.
“In that case, should we invite Wanda and Vision too?” You figured it would be best, given that they still need to decorate their rooms as well, and could probably use a tour guide. He agreed to the idea, and you both went to a bunch of stores with the pair. After what felt like 20 different stores, you all, except for Vision, were hungry. You ended up finding a diner while heading in the direction of the compound and decided you may as well stop there. The four of you entered the quaint restaurant and sat in a booth. You sat beside Pietro who had his arms resting on the back of the seat. You guys stayed silent for some time as you ate, the tiredness leaving little energy to talk after all that browsing and walking. Though it didn’t last too long for the quiet to be disrupted due to you noticing your fries were leaving at a faster rate than what you were consuming. You put two and two together and randomly swatted at the air, just above your tray of fries to see if you were right. You heard Pietro suck through his teeth while holding his hand. “So you were stealing them!”
“You never said I couldn’t!”
“I never said you could! You could’ve just asked.”
“Its not as fun.” You narrowed your eyes at his response and teleported to sit beside Vision, preventing Pietro from further stealing. “Okay okay! I’m sorry, can I please get some of your fries.” You teleported back to him and nudged your tray towards him. His fast metabolism led to him eventually eating all of it, so you ended up ordering two more trays for both of you. “Thank you, miláček.” He murmured as he stuffed his face with his burger. You giggled a bit, not thinking he would be this starved. His stuffed face smiled back up at you.
“No problem Piet.”
“Be careful not to choke Pietro.” Wanda warned, gaining an eye roll from him. He swiftly swallowed his bite.
“I’m not a baby.”
“You act like it.” She retorted. You took the time to eat once again as they went back and forth. You zoned out for a bit, the day getting to you while the songs from the speakers played faintly in the background. Your eyes skimmed over the walls of the diner, taking in the portraits and signs. They soon landed on a calendar with those cute kitten themed ones, earning a faint smile from you. Your thoughts were shortly interrupted by the twins calling out your name. Your attention reverted back to them.
“Hmm?”
“If we have our own rooms, would it not-” Wanda started, but her words were disrupted by a bright blinding light outside. All of you turned your heads to the flash, standing up ready to fight or to help others flee. The decision was quickly made for the four of you as a loud booming sound shook up the restaurant, and the light beamed bright enough to cause you all to cover your eyes.
You don’t know when the flash disappeared, all you knew was that you were blocking your eyes with the back of your arm, and were trying to get rid of the blotchy spots in your vision. Once your vision did return back to normal, it seemed as if the restaurant did too. Each of you got up to check on the few workers in the joint and went to check if there was anything outside. It all seemed as it was before. It was still night, there weren’t any damages to the building, and no signs of danger outside. You headed back into the restaurant and took notice of the calendar. The calendar had changed. The day and month were all the same. Everything the same except for the year stated. 1963. That’s when a young waitress came up to your table with a relieved sigh.
“I thought you all were going to do a dine and run.” She laughed while holding a hand to her chest. Your eyes followed her hand and traveled to her name tag. She had the same name as your previous waitress, who seemed to be old enough to be a grandmother, and the woman in front of you was definitely not one. Your eyes then took in what should’ve been the most obvious of all. Her flipped bob, blue eyeshadow, black eyeliner, the prominent bottom lashes, and her diner fit that was…actually pretty much the same. The only new things included were red tights and heels. You each looked at each other with puzzled expressions, all coming to terms with the same conclusion. You turned back to the waitress and smiled.
“No of course not. Sorry we could’ve sworn we heard a disturbance by our car and wanted to be sure it wasn’t anything to worry about.” You said innocently and then reached into your wallet. “Actually while you’re here, is it alright if we pay the bill now?” She simply nodded and returned with the bill. You all paid and tipped before leaning closer to whisper amongst yourselves.
“What the hell happened?” Wanda asked in a disbelief.
“I’m not sure. I scanned the area and didn’t get any clues as to how we got here or where the commotion came from.” Vision whispered, and from what you could tell, was likely still trying to make sense of this. Which is what unsettled you the most. If Vision didn’t know, how on Earth could you guys get out of this.
“We should see if the others know anything of this.” Pietro suggested and you all went with that plan. You got back into the car, pushing the exhaustion aside to make way for your growing curiosity. You peered into the horizon as the car drove, fidgeting with your nails against the steering wheel. You simply hoped the others would have any possible ideas about where this could have even stemmed from.
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Following chapters:
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
A/N: Not sure where I’m headed with this, just know I’m headed🥸 I think the whole 60s (I presume) thing with the fantastic four is causing me to want to have these four (having four be sent back in time wasn’t intentional, and I’m just now realizing the amount is the same.😔) go through the 60s too cause why not! I also know my memory won’t be accurate if I try to stick to the Avenger’s timeline. :/
I think I might want to do a Wandavision thing with the decades changing, but a slower progression and different plot and villain/s ofc. And because reader could be anybody, know that the decades won’t include racism, homophobia, transphobia, sexism, ableism, fatphobia (essentially all the -isms and -phobias) cause I’d rather y’all have a good time and not endure that😽
There will probably be some play of societal expectations however, depending on the decade, still unsure. Mainly thinking of dating culture. Also I hope the pacing for this is okay, and that y’all liked this chapter :D (I’m trying my hardest to refrain from romancing this.)
Pietro Maximoff x Reader (GN) | SFW
Chapter 3
Summary: Waking up in Pietro’s arms, you two end up talking and eventually you get to hear about his past. The conversation leads to your trust in each other to strengthen and the start of a new friendship.
Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of war, mentions of weapons (missiles), swearing (shit), somewhat hurt/comfort? (not sure, just know it's a somber chapter, HOWEVER it ends on a lighter note)
Word Count: 2,450
Czech Translations:
Drahý- Dear
Miláček- Sweetheart/Darling
Kapička- Droplet
Song suggestions: Once More to See You- Mitski, Tears in the Typing Pool- Broadcast, In Time- Rodrigo Amarante
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
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You felt the comfort of the sun caressing your back, surpassing your night gown and blanket that covered you. That sleep was probably one of the best you’ve ever had. You got to cry your heart out that night, yet you didn’t close your eyes with a heavy one. Rather, the opposite. And the room that initially felt like a burning reminder of the loneliness death promised, and the cold feeling of the life leaving your body, was no longer. It was replaced by the warmth of the rays reflecting onto the room through the windows, the warmth from the extra blanket hugging your body that was brought by Pietro, and of course, the warmth from Pietro himself. The human body is naturally warm, but thanks to his powers, he was warmer than most. Though it wasn’t simply the temperature he gifted your body. No, it was his presence that genuinely lit up the room. It was his presence that soothed your being and allowed you to rest like what happened two weeks ago didn’t occur. His presence refrained you from crying all night until the break of day, before you could realize you hadn’t gotten an ounce of sleep. He silenced your mind. The chaotic speedster that made quips, found ways to insert jokes in the moments you least expected, and always rushed off; leaving a little tornado of his own when he left the room, had stilled your thoughts. Even if for a moment that night, it was a moment that was enough to stop the whirlpool in your mind. So how could you resist leaning further into his embrace after that. Sure, you did so when sleeping, but now that you were conscious, you couldn’t help doing it once more. You could only move so much without risking opening your wounds. Regardless, you still wanted to be near him and the security he brought.
You weren’t sure how the two of you ended up in this position. You didn’t doubt it was him that did this, since there was no way, you could move onto his lap without waking up. And you know you fell asleep beside him; you just weren’t sure why he moved you. It wasn’t like you minded it though, seeing as you snuggled up to him.
Sensing you scooch closer and hearing the birds sing their song outside caused a deep inhale and mumble to leave his lips. You couldn’t quite make out what he said, however you suspect it was something in Sokovian. He groggily spoke as he covered his eyes with one hand to block the blaring sun. Stretching his back slightly, he fastened his grip on you to make sure you were kept stable.
“Mm good morning drahý.”
“Good morning”
Exhaling, his shoulders slumped once more after stretching. He rested his chin on the top of your head, seeing as you remained leaning against him. You glanced up, though you couldn’t see him very well like this and neither could he.
“Thank you by the way.”
“For what?” You felt him tilt his head to side as his chin moved on your head.
“For being there. Not just last night but today too. You didn’t have to sleepover y’know? Not that I have an issue with it, I just meant if you wanted to return you could’ve, I mean I wouldn't-” He chuckled at your rambling before cutting you off.
“Slow down, if not, you’re going to leave yourself breathless. And just so you know, I wanted to stay. Plus, I couldn’t wake the sleeping beauty, could I?” he teased, and you could sense he was probably starting to smirk too.
“Your sister really was right about this issue of yours.”
“Issue?” He lightly scoffed, but he backed up a bit for you to see the grin painting his face that told you he wasn’t actually offended.
“Yeah, you flirt non-stop.” You slightly poked fun at him.
“Some would call it charm.” He shrugged a bit.
“Charm at-” you turn your head to look at the time displayed on the tv screen, “8 o’clock in the morning?”
“Oh? I didn’t know charm had a starting time.”
“I didn’t know one could wake up ready to charm others.”
“So, you’re charmed then?” He said suavely with a sly grin taking over.
“I never said that.”
“No, but you did hint to it.” You snorted in amusement.
“Pietro, there's no way you're doing mind games at this hour.”
“That wasn’t a no.” He playfully remarked.
“No.”
“Oh, how you crush my soul, miláček! But just know, you will get charmed next time.”
“Next time?” You smiled while raising your brow in a questioning manner.
“They told you that you’d be here for a week, no?”
“Yeah.”
“So, then I will come here in that week.”
“Thats kind of you, but if you’re busy, you don’t have to.” You hesitated for a moment before continuing. “If you feel guilty about what happened back there, I don’t want you to feel pressured to visit. I’m not saying that's what you’re doing, and either way I’m thankful for all you have done. Genuinely, I mean yesterday meant everything to me, but I don’t want you to feel required to be here. I’m sure you and Wanda have a lot of adjusting to do to this place and must be dealing with the aftermath of Ultron still. I don’t want to get in the way of any of that.”
He stayed silent; however, you didn’t miss the way his eyes softened. “I feel guilty, yes. That is not why I’m here though.” He pauses and glances at the floor to find his words, wanting to get them right, before looking back at you. “I’ve been here for two weeks and you’re right I’m still adjusting on all aspects. Including friendships. And the others are adjusting to me and Wanda. They’ve been friendly, most are. Though some are still on alert. I see it in their eyes and the way they stiffen around us. I understand that they must have their guard up, but it sucks to know others are waiting for you to turn around and betray them.” His eyes became distant as he stared at the blanket, debating if he should share this part of him with you. He decided to go for it since you shared a part of yourself yesterday; whether you meant to or not. While you didn’t say what had gotten you upset, you were still willing to wear your heart out on your sleeves around him.
“And it's hard to not feel the same way about them when the only reason we joined Hydra was to protect our country.” He swallowed, and his jaw hardened as he resisted the tears threatening to escape. “I was 10 when my country was bombed. Shredded to bits and pieces by the weapons made from Stark industries. The war affected everybody, including my family. We were having dinner when one missile made its way to the building we lived in. It impacted the first two floors. Our parents went to see the damage while me and Wanda hid under the bed. A second missile is sent a few feet away from us. But it never went off. For two days it stayed there mocking us as me and Wanda laid under the rubble it caused, thinking any second would be our last if we had even moved an inch. Once we did get out, we found our parents didn’t even make it. It was only me and Wanda who could look after each other. Orphans in a war-torn country.” He huffed. “It felt like it was written in stone that we would fail. Not just us, but our neighbors and friends and strangers we saw on the street that had all lost something or someone. We were only teens when we got offered a chance to join Hydra. Testing in exchange for freeing our home from war. Told we could seek revenge on the backhand we were slapped with. But, as you know, that was not the case.” He stopped to look back at you, seeing the tender gleam in your eyes as you tried to stall the tears threatening to slip. He forced his head to turn the other way to fight off the tightening feeling in his chest and the glossiness in his eyes.
“Dealing with the loss of my homeland, after having lost so much already, and then somehow trying to make friends with the people I’ve despised.......it isn’t easy y’know?” He laughed, though it was more of a somber laugh than a humorous one. The continuous, but subtle movements of his fingers being further indication. “It's a constant reminder of all that led up to this. And everybody is either on the edge of their seat, waiting for us to slip up, or is too busy with their own work and personal life. For the past two weeks, the only one who doesn’t feel like a rival to me anymore is Clint. His body language is relaxed around me, and he keeps up with me. And then you woke. You weren’t on guard when you spoke to me and my sister. I don’t know if it was the meds or what,” a smile finally graces his lips as he chuckles, “but it was like you forgot we used to be on different teams. What I do know is you were willing to give your life, not just for me, but for others too. For a boy you didn’t know, your comrade, and a guy who used to be an enemy of yours. You did it without a second thought.” He turned to face you once more. “Y’know that’s batshit crazy but commendable.” You joined him in his laughter this time, to which the laughter turned into smiles of sincerity. “And if there is anyone on this team, I could choose to get to know better and be friends with, why wouldn’t it be you, kapička?” His words softened at the end while his delicate smile remained on his face. “You didn’t know my story; all you knew was that we were teammates now and that was enough for you to treat me like one. And if that’s all it took for you to think of me as one of your own, then I don’t want to miss out on that. So no, you’re not getting in the way of things.”
You stared at him in silence, all misty eyed and speechless. You hadn’t expected for him to share that part of himself. Neither did you think that his past would be as jarring as it was for him and Wanda. You hadn’t expected anything in particular, as you never searched it up. You did know they were advocates for their country from what Fury told you, but would’ve never guessed their reasoning was this fueled.
“My door will always be open for when you want to join me then. Plus, I really need some people on this team around my age, and I do hope you stay a part of our group. Not simply cause of age of course, but because you haven’t ever given me a reason not to think so. If anything, you’ve only been showing me signs that you should be here.”
“I think I will. As long as I have you, Clint, and Wanda, I can manage. And you will definitely see me here during the week.”
“I better.” You chuckled a bit. Though, your smile dwindled when you recalled all that he told you. “And I’m really sorry about your childhood by the way. Or, well your whole up bringing. I had no idea you went through all of that. I can’t imagine what it was like. You and Wanda lost so much and tried to save your home from war, to only lose it all.” Your eyes veered off towards your lap before glancing back at him. “I totally get it if you have a hard time trusting or getting along with us for all the things you and your country have gone through. I didn’t even know it was Tony’s weapons that caused all this harm to your home. I don’t even know if he knows.” You rubbed your face while shaking your face and sighed. “God, I really am sorry for all that you guys have had to deal with. You know if you two need help with anything, I’ll offer as much as I can. I’m confined to my bed for now, as you know, but I’ll be able to help more once I’m not. I know it can’t undo or bring back anything or anyone, and I know it won’t ever be enough to atone for the shit we caused, yet I’d rather do something than to let the aftermath figure itself out.”
“Me and Wanda would appreciate that. It’s true things can’t be undone, however any help now that can be offered to my community would mean a lot for us.” You nodded solemnly.
“We’ll do as much as we can then.” You stayed silent for a moment as you processed. “I’m still not sure what to say.” You accidentally let the thought out.
“That’s fine. It was a lot for me and Wanda when we realized we won’t be able to see it anymore. Sometimes we just go quiet and we know what the other is thinking about when that happens. So, if you want to do that, we can. But, um, just to clarify you will be my friend, right?” He wore a gentle, and somewhat abashed smile before taking out a friendship bracelet out of his pocket with a wave charm dangling from it. You couldn’t help the upturn of your lips upon seeing the endearing act.
“Pietro that’s really sweet.” You coo’d.
“I know.” You rolled your eyes at his cockiness but couldn’t drop your smile. “So, are you or are you not? I will hold onto it if you aren’t.” He teased while the edge of his lip quirked up.
“I will, I will.” You laughed at his antics and held your hand to retrieve it. “Aw, but I don’t have one for you.”
“I’ll bring the supplies tomorrow then.” You nodded your head excitedly at the idea.
“You should! I might make a few bracelets then, so we can fill the time. Speaking of, when did you even find time to make this?”
“Just a minute ago. I had to figure out how to lighten things up so.” He shrugged and you snorted softly while also shaking your head, but grinned at his response.
——————————
Following chapters:
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
A/N: Hoping y’all liked this! This was quite lengthy, so hopefully y’all enjoy that. Also I did try to hint that Pietro is claustrophobic; hates small spaces or places too crowded cause they’ll make him feel suffocated (due to what happened when he was ten), and that is why I included that part in chapter one of everyone joining reader’s room, causing him to leave. (Praying y’all caught that)👹 And if you guys have any critiques about the pacing or anything else, please tell me, it’ll be much appreciated 😽
Pietro Maximoff x Reader (GN) | SFW
Chapter 2
Summary: After all the checkups from your colleagues, you’re left with your own thoughts. Including dealing with your close encounter with death. Luckily someone comes back to your room to help you fill that emptiness.
Warnings: hurt/comfort, mentions of death, anxiety attack
Word Count: 998
Czech Translations:
Kapička- Droplet
Song suggestions: To Be Alone- Rodrigo Amarante, Rearrange My World- Daniel Ceasar, Did You Love Somebody- Peach Pit 😽
Previous Chapter:
Chapter 1
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After two hours of what felt like interrogations mixed with regular banter from your coworkers and friends, you let out an exhale. Now that you’re sitting up properly, you took in the room. Dim and empty. Part of you was glad to finally get some quiet. Not having much time for yourself since waking meant you didn’t get time to think. Let alone process what you went through. And now you can. Your brows furrowed. The contentment in your eyes left. The fluorescent lights casting down onto the room made it feel cold suddenly. Soulless. Dead.
Dead. Death.
I almost met death. No.
I wasn’t even on her doorstep. I was standing in her doorway.
I died for a moment.
A moment that could’ve sealed everything, if it weren’t for Tony and Bruce’s quick thinking, and Thor’s voltages.
I wouldn’t even have the chance to say a proper goodbye if I passed.
As your thoughts carried on and flashes of that day replayed in your mind, your heart rate began to rise; the monitor’s beeps only stressed you out more as it further confirmed you were starting to panic. A lump was forming in your throat, and your face was getting warm. You held your face in your hands while taking steady breaths to try and delay the inevitable. God, you wished they would come back. At least then you wouldn’t have to focus on your death. The only thing to give you some sense of comfort was all the gifts they brought, evidence that they had been here. Evidence that you are loved.
Would it look like this if I had a funeral? Would my tombstone be filled with flowers? Who would go? Who would’ve told my friends and family?
You looked down at your lap as you held your head in your hands again, trying to stop your thoughts while your eyes began to water. The realization that you wouldn’t even know you had passed, and images of the different expressions your loved ones would carry played over and over again in your mind like a film that had no start or end. You didn’t even notice the drops trickling down your hands and arms, that is until you heard your name. You looked up quickly as you heaved with tears cascading down your cheeks. Pietro.
“What's wrong?”
You saw how he looked at you. Even with your tears blurring your eyesight, you could still see his eyes full of worry and hands on the hospital bed’s side rails; debating if he should hold you. If that was what you wanted.
“Hey hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re safe” he said in a soothing voice, rubbing your back in slow circular motions. You struggled to breathe due to your choked up sobs, failing to form words.
“Do you want a hug?”
You couldn’t find your voice as the sobs continued, so you settled for a nod. He delicately wrapped his arms around you, meticulously avoiding your injuries. His hug was as firm as it can be for someone whose majority of their upper body was in discomfort. He sat on the edge of your bed and rested his chin over your head. You leaned forward to cry into his chest, tilting your head at an angle so that you could still breathe. He slowly glided his hand over the top of your head to the back of it as he spoke.
“Let it out, Kapička. I’ll be here until you don’t want me to be, okay?” He murmured, stopping his hand on your hair, simply holding the back of your head. He reverted to rubbing circles on your back. It stayed like that until your sobs started to die down somewhat. Your eyes weren’t fully dry but glazed over while you were recovering.
He backed up a smidge to see you better, holding you in his arms still. “There you are hm” he whispered as he smiled faintly. His thumb tenderly grazed your cheeks, discarding your tears while you sniffled. He held your jaw and cheek with one hand, holding your face like it was made of glass. One wrong move enough to cause a shatter.
“Do you want to talk about what made you cry?”
You shook your head, averting your eyes while gulping down a sob. “How about we watch your favorite movie or show then? I can get some snacks and some blankets for us too.” He brought his hands down to yours, mindlessly rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs. “Please.” you meekly let out; the sobs doing more to your vocal cords than initially thought.
A gust of wind later and he came back. The snacks were all assorted on the over-bed table, blankets covered you and him while he sat beside you with a box of tissues over the blankets. He handed you the tv remote and let you choose while keeping his hand tangled with yours. You wiped your face with tissues and picked something out. The two of you ate, made comments about the lack of logic in some scenes; laughing and giggling while lightly shoving each other.
You don’t know which scene you fell asleep to, but all you knew was that you did. Your head on his shoulder and his arm around yours, securing you to his side. He eventually placed you onto his lap; not wanting you to have a stiff neck the morning after. Being as careful as he can to not wake you, as well as to not hurt you, he kept you snug against his chest. He readjusted the blankets, so that they fully covered you and wrapped you in his warm embrace. Tucking your head under his chin, he whispered, “Goodnight kapička” before falling asleep with you.
________________
Following Chapters:
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
A/N: Hope y’all liked it! Any thoughts would be appreciated🫶
Somewhere you could hear distant music, the notes soft and faint to the point you could delude yourself into thinking it was only in your head. The music coupled with the open window and the gentle breeze that would sway through your curtains created a sort of softness to the atmosphere. Or maybe it was the lethargy caused by the summer heat. You could never be too sure on that one. Laying on your bed you continued to lazily card your fingers through soft white curls. He’d fallen asleep some time ago and you were pleased to know he was getting any decent sleep at all. His weight was a comfort, head pillowed slightly below your chest and one arm wrapped underneath you around your waist. Had someone told you he was cuddly you might have laughed, but in a way it made a strange sort of sense. He was a twin after all, once upon a time he’d been so close to another as to share the same womb. You wondered if that was a thing with twins, if they’d spend their whole lives craving that sort of closeness with somebody.
It had to be lonely if so.
Your eyes drifted to your ceiling, the stars you’d placed there sometime in your youth when things were simple and you had yearned for the vastness of space to swallow you whole. Even pain, even suffering, had seemed simple then. But that had been long ago and you would never know how to explain to that younger self of yours what had led to your current situation. You couldn’t really explain it to anyone at all. Nails lightly scratching along his scalp you tried to recall when this closeness the two of you had had started but that moment was a blur amongst soft niceness you’d shown him since you had known him. It was in your nature to be kind and you had long stopped trying to deny yourself the urge to tend to others. Just as it had been in your nature to be cruel so that you could not be hurt.
In his sleep Pietro shifted, tightening his hold. A freed hand shimmied under your body, curling loosely around a shoulder blade, before he settled. Wrapping an arm over the lean expanse of his back you let him curl close and intimate. Despite the intimacy there was no desire there. No lust. Just a warmth from the unspoken trust between you. In all the time you had known him he had been a friend and an enemy and a companion. A myriad of complicated truths and history between the two of you.
An old friend.
Watching him now in his vulnerable sleep your eyes found the scars that peeked from underneath his shirt. The faded burns of hateful fire, the jagged scratches of war, and the stinging straight slashes of betrayal. When you had first tried to know him he’d been wild-eyed with stolen youth. Expecting a knife in the back that you never gave. He was cruel then, cruel in his suffering for fear of much the same. You had your moments of cruelty too back then. Time and experience had curbed that cruelty and dulled it with compassion and melancholy. He carried with him a great never ending sadness behind quick wit and sharp barbs. Once, when he’d been vulnerable and you had simply been there he spoke of a community afraid to love him in fear he’d be snatched from them. Of a time and place where his differences didn’t just affect him but his entire family. How he strived to embrace his own culture with the hope it would be brave enough to embrace him back. The fear his mother had, his aunt you would learn but she had always been his mother in his eyes, that he would be taken from her simply because he looked different than what the world thought the Roma should look like. That one day someone would snatch her own child from her and claim he’d been stolen from them instead. You would have liked to claim that you’d had an intelligent reply to that confession but you’d been younger then and newer to the world- suffered in different ways to the man that would become your friend- all you had been able to do was listen and offer him a hand to hold. Miraculously that had seemed to be enough for a while. You had educated yourself after that, made a better effort to understand so that he wouldn’t have to explain at every turn.
Perhaps that had been a turning point between the two of you, one of many. A genuine attempt at understanding him when he felt isolated. Or perhaps that had been a mere moment and the turning point had been something else. Either way you had gotten to know him and he in turn had gotten to know you. Despite the terrible things you were both capable of, despite the way you had both hurt each other at times, despite every hurtle and thorn and fight between the two of you somehow you had managed to hold onto each other. You would never be sure if the way you wordlessly let him in and out of your life was healthy, if the hurt between the two of you ran deeper than either of you were comfortable admitting, but you had your moments. Moments as soft as this where the two of you were simply people. Simply seeking comfort. You could live with that. With knowing that Pietro found comfort when he needed it not just from his sister but from a friend.
Even at your most terrible you had never denied him that. Even at his. Maybe that made you foolish, but you couldn’t deny that it could be sweet. Rubbing a hand over his back you closed your eyes, letting the afternoon heat lull you. In your bones you knew something would call him away, that some disaster or world altering tragedy would ask for him, demand his help in blood. But for the moment it was you and him in the safety of your childhood bed, a moment suspended in time and softness. For now there was the surety of comfort, the steady weight on top of you and the warmth of skin. A togetherness you rarely shared with anyone else.
For now that was enough.
Peter Maximoff x Reader
Tagged: @floraroselaughter
It’d been weeks since your rather awkward encounter with Peter, well maybe awkward wasn’t the right word for it. Hindsight had been a bit of an eye opener for you after that day and you had spent that time growing more and more embarrassed with yourself. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of it, not at all, in fact it was more the urge to keep doing it that had caught you off guard. Watching Peter the way you liked to do had revealed he didn’t have many friends and certainly even less compliments. Your one off handed compliment had seemed to brighten his week and as you watched him revert back to his old self you couldn’t help but feel… Sad. Everyone deserved compliments. While you yourself hadn’t been on the receiving end of many compliments that didn’t mean others weren’t deserving of them. Your mother had drilled into your head to be the change you wanted to see in the world and mostly you just wished people were kinder to each other. Especially with all this mutant nonsense that seemed to be cropping up. Perhaps you were tenderhearted with your belief that one should do unto others as they’d wish others would do unto them, perhaps you were overly optimistic in the hope that humans and mutants could coexist. You weren’t sure.
But you did know that you liked seeing others happy.
After having worked yourself into an embarrassed mess over the compliment a few weeks ago it took you some time to work up the courage to try it again. This time however you took your time formulating the compliment you wanted to give. It’d be something small, insignificant to most, but something only someone who was watching might think to give. Arguably you knew he was self conscious of certain things. It was quite obvious in the way he acted what made him jittery. So there you were in your shared class with your chin in your palm as the teacher droned on in the background. Peter seemed to be developing heterochromia in his eyes, that pale blue ring to them more visible now than before. But you had already complimented them. You didn’t want to come off as a broken record. Instead you had zeroed in on his hair. Years of watching your mother straighten her own hair had given you a clue what natural straight hair and ironed straight hair looked like. As track season had begun and Peter had taken to it you’d noticed that his hair had gotten almost curly at the roots. Why he’d hide such a thing didn’t make sense to you but you figured that was just something he did. His eyes darted to your own and he tensed clearly not expecting you to be watching, giving him a warm smile you hummed to yourself in thought. The smile was what made him pause. His lips parted to speak and you were reminded that he also had nice lips. They looked soft despite most likely being chapped. Kissable. That particular thought was set aside for later.
“You’d look nice with curly hair.” You spoke, interrupting him before he could speak himself. The soft incessant tapping of his foot paused. For a moment he merely stared back at you. He blinked the words setting in slowly. But just like the last time you complimented him that barely there blush threatened to rise to his cheeks. His face was more round than other boys, betraying a youth that hadn’t yet left him in favor of puberty. He cleared his throat after a moment, eyes darting nervously around the room to see if anyone had heard or was paying any attention. Or perhaps he was looking to see if you’d been set up by someone. That thought rather hurt.
“I look weird with curly hair.” He mumbled after a moment. His hand scrubbed over his face and you couldn’t help but smile a little more.
“I think you’d look handsome.” You shrugged. To your fascination that blush deepened, his face reddened in such a way that you could clearly see the pink. Those interesting eyes darted between you and somewhere off to the side as if trying to think of something to say. Something to refute your claim. But you continued to gaze at him with a warm smile.
“You have nice lips.” He blurted out your eyes widened the same time his did. That blush now a bright flaming unmistakable red as he ducked his head. “Fuck.” He hissed to himself.
Huh. You thought past the embarrassment. You tried not to immediately deny the compliment as sudden as it was. Had he been staring too? Your face felt warm as your smile curled a little at the edges with the heat. Going more crooked as the embarrassment set in. Taking a steady breath you willed your voice not to crack.
“Thanks.” Your voice swelled with that bashful feeling threatening to overwhelm you. Gnawing on your cheek you glanced away. When you glanced back you found him staring right at you, some strange expression on his face you couldn’t place. Unsure of yourself you shuffled nervously in your seat. Strangely enough you could have sworn you saw his pupils dilate but that was silly.
He cleared his throat suddenly and flipped erratically through the book you were supposed to be reading for your class. Taking that as your cue you opened your own book and flipped to where you’d marked the pages. Self consciously your fingers trailed to your lips. You couldn’t help but let out a silent huff of amusement at what an awkward pair the two of you must have made. As the teacher continued to talk you glanced shyly back up at him and found his eyes.
“I like your jacket too. It’s cute.”
He shuffled around in his seat, teeth digging into his lower lip. A pretty deer in headlights.
“I like the little hearts you doodle in your notebook.” He blurted and then flushed red yet again. It was clear he hadn’t meant to say that either. The confession caught you off guard, you didn’t think anyone noticed the little absentminded doodles you drew when you were struggling to focus. Much less noticed enough to realize what they were. Which meant that somehow Peter had been watching you like you had been watching him. All without you having noticed at all. The heat in your face returned but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.
“You do?” You asked, unable to hide the bashful tone of your voice. Those wide eyes skittered across your face and you wondered what he could possibly be thinking.
“Yeah.” He answered plainly. “They, uh, they’re cute. I mean…” He trailed off clearly trying to think of something to say and grasping at straws. Taking pity on him and on yourself you found yourself stretching your leg out to rest your ankle against his. The featherlight touch had his foot immediately stilling, freezing him momentarily in place before he swallowed so hard his adam’s apple visibly jumped.
“Thank you.” You told him genuinely. It was strange how that was the compliment that caught you the most. An unwitting admittance to being perceived by someone else. You had gone to pull your leg from his when his leg suddenly twisted to lock yours into place. Shifting so that the back of your ankle was pressed against the front of his. A new, surprising, development. Did Peter… Like touch? Did he want it? In all your time observing him you hadn’t noticed a preference for or against it. But if he wanted touch… You forced your leg to relax against his. Letting it rest there as if it were the most natural thing in the world as you turned back to your book. For the rest of the class period the two of you stayed like that. Ankles locked together harmlessly under your desks.
Thank you to everyone slowly trickling into my inbox with requests. I love you all even if it's taking me literal years to get shit posted. I love being able to pop into my inbox and see more requests its honestly so fun. I'm slowly working on your guys' requests when I get the free time so keep sending more!
So far I've been working on:
Professor Kukui smut. Not an x reader but honestly it's such a lovingly detailed absolutely filthy request I can't wait to get it posted.
Standoffish!Reader x Gamzee
Marvus x Reader fluff. It's so sweet guys!
Mallek x Reader one-shot. Not specified the ask just says "Mallek x Reader pls?".
TMNT!Mikey x Artist!Reader
Platonic!Quicksilver x Reader. ANON IDK YOU BUT WE ARE KISSING. KISSING I TELL YOU.
Nightcrawler x Reader request that was literally just "I'm here to enable you. Give me a Nightcrawler x Reader so indulgent you wouldn't even show your friends." I think it is the same anon who sent the platonic Quicksilver request and I want you to know we're married now. The honeymoon draws near. I am signing over all my wordly assets amen.