#MCU quicksilver

[andreawritesit]

A very unpopular opinion I have, is that ATJ's version of Quicksilver (MCU) is a better character than the Fox Quicksilver. I have many reasons; the biggest one is that Evan Peters' QS barely has any personality. I mean, I like him a lot, he has better looking scenes and seems cool overall, but he doesn't strike me in the same way MCU Quicksilver does. He had a backstory, his reasons for being against the Avengers, and he had such a good bond with Wanda. You could feel his protectiveness of her. He also had a way cooler character design, in my opinion. I loved his hair a lot and the light trail that was left behind as he sped away. IDK he just felt like a real person to me, someone whose life was cut short tragically. MCU underutilized the hell out of him. However, he'll always be the better Quicksilver to me. I also do not understand why people wanted Fox QS to be integrated into the MCU so much… He does not fit in, IMO.

[local-crying-boy]

Pietro MaximoffX GN!Reader

Shakes and shivers

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Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Gender Neutral!Reader, romantic relationship established

Genre: One-shot, fluff, winter-time imagine

Warnings: quick little idea I thought about that I just wanted to write about, weak ending but I just wanted to get this out of my drafts.

Summary: it’s cold in the compound, you being unable to get warm and comfortable again, call over your boyfriend, Pietro, to come give you cuddles.

Word count: 489

A/n: It was cold when I started writing this and I was in need of something to cheer me up in the winter months. Even though I only finished writing this in Spring

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It was cold. Of course it was. And, of course, despite Stark’s abundance of money, the boiler broke and there was no source of heat throughout the compound. It would have been fine if you were up and about doing things like the rest of the team, but you were done with training, hell, you were done with the day.

It was already quite late in the day, not too late that most of your team were heading up to bed, but not early enough that you were able to do things such as training. You’d been in your pyjamas, curled up in your room, shivering ever so often because your bed had been annoyingly by the window. Despite the rain pattering outside your room, hitting the sides of the window, you weren't all that relaxed as others when listening to the sound.

It hadn’t taken long for you to get fed up of the cold, huffing out when you felt your body tense for far too long. You were quick to text Pietro, telling him to come to your room, ready to justify your reasoning if he asked you why.

Though, that time never came. You should have known. He had raced to your room as soon as he read that to come over. The air swished around your room, when you looked up he was already there, that stupid, lovable grin on his face.

"You called for me, dragâ?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

You quickly patted the space beside you in the bed, looking up at him with a frown. "It's cold."

The speedster only let out a laugh, flopping onto your bed beside you and turning on his side with his hand propping up his head. He was looking at you with that stupid smirk of his. "Oh? So you want me to warm you up, is that it?"

"Stop looking at me like that." You huffed out, moving closer to him so that you could feel some of his warmth.

The man usually ran warm, he was always doing something - well, he was always running around - and, in result, his body ran hotter than the average person from his continuous movement. A lucky thing for you.

He let out a small tut, but he did not hesitate in wrapping his arms around your shivering frame. "I suppose I could help you out, dragâ."

"You suppose?" You exhaled out, shaking your head, but there was a hint of amusement in your voice. "It's your job as my boyfriend to help me."

He laughed at that, his chin resting on your head, before he moved down and inhaled the scent of your shampoo that lingered in your hair. "I didn't know I signed up for this job, you know."

"Good to know I've enlightened you now, 'Etro." You grumbled out into his chest, already starting to warm up with the blanket around your body and now Pietro's arms around you.

Masterlist

Pietro Maximoff Masterlist

[miniimegs-art]

Fan art of Pietro Maximoff, based on Aaron Taylor-Johnson. I hope you like it 😊😊

[pinktwingirl]

The MCU really be like

[duskxdevilm]

[the-poor-miranha-quotes]

Tony: So today I learned that peter has me in his cellphone as "Mr Irondad "

Clint: *shrugs* Could be worse. Wanda and Pietro have each other down as "spare parts"

[maximoffs-girl]

look!! at!! them!!

[cece693]

So I had this silly idea of a character being super duper shy around you and who better else to write about than Pietro Maximoff. Not many fanfics are on Tumblr about him (which isn't all that suprising considering he dies by the end of his first movie) but in my heart he's very much alive. Hope you enjoy!

Tongue Tied

pairing: pietro maximoff x gender neutral reader tags: Pietro is a mess, wanda is a good sister, reader is amused but likes Pietro, the speedster is adorable

Pietro had a routine: wake up, shower, eat breakfast in a hurry (sometimes literally), and then spend the day reminding the Avengers just how fast he was. Confidence was basically his middle name. That is, until you came along. All it took was your shy smile—once—and boom. Suddenly, Pietro was about as smooth as a pothole-filled road.

Accident #1:

Your first week at the Avengers compound was a whirlwind. And when you asked Pietro for a tour, he practically teleported to your side. Wanda, arms folded, watched with a mischievous grin from the corner, ready to document his inevitable blunders.

Pietro cleared his throat. “So, um, this is the training room,” he said, gesturing to a door. “And that’s—” Only, the door he pointed to was actually a storage closet. Wanda snickered.

“Oh,” you said, peeking inside at a broom and mop. “State-of-the-art training gear, huh?”

Pietro’s eyes widened, cheeks burning. “Ha! Yes, definitely not the training room. That’s…um…storage. This—this is the training room.” He zipped across the hall to the correct door so fast, he nearly tripped over his own feet.

An awkward silence filled the space between you while Wanda silently mimed a facepalm. Pietro didn’t look remotely cool as he tried to recover, but you just smiled, amused. “I like the personal touch,” you teased. “Broom-fighting is a lost art.” Pietro managed a shaky laugh. Maybe you found it endearing—he could only hope.

Accident #2:

The Avengers often hosted casual cookouts on the compound’s spacious lawn, complete with steaks, veggie burgers, and unfortunate attempts at comedic karaoke from Tony. You and Pietro ended up manning the grill together—a recipe for comedic disaster. “I got this,” Pietro insisted confidently. He flipped burgers at record speed, so quickly that half of them landed in questionable angles on the grill.

You tried not to laugh as one burger sailed off into the grass. “Huh, I think that one tried to make a break for it.”

“Yeah, well…” Pietro pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I’ll just pick it up.” He was back in a flash, depositing the rogue burger in the trash can while giving you a sheepish grin.

Wanda breezed by, eyeing Pietro’s stumbling attempts. Leaning in close so only he could hear, she teased, “Your face is as red as hot sauce.”

He rolled his eyes. “Go away, Wanda.”

But you overheard, chuckling. “I think it’s cute,” you said lightly, hoping to ease his nerves. Immediately, Pietro dropped his spatula. It clanged onto the grill with a loud metallic thunk. He stared at it, wide-eyed, while Wanda practically had to bury her face in her hands to stifle her laughter.

Accident #3:

Pietro loved nicknames. He threw them around like confetti—“Hawky” for Clint, “Tin Man” for Tony, “Red” for Wanda. But he hadn’t come up with one for you yet. Not for lack of trying…he just kept choking on his words each time he tried.

One afternoon, you were in the common lounge, reading a book, when Pietro zoomed in, nearly knocking over a lamp in the process. He waved it off casually, muttering something about “lousy furniture placement.”

“Hey,” you greeted. “What’s up?”

“Um. Nothing. You, er, do you want to—” He exhaled in frustration. “Grab a bite to eat? Maybe see a movie?”

Your eyes lit up. “Oh! That sounds great.”

Pietro’s relieved smile nearly split his face. “Cool! That’s—great. Awesome. Perfect.” He then tried to do his usual flirty finger-gun move, but ended up accidentally pointing at Wanda behind you. Which made him look more than a little unhinged.

Wanda arched an eyebrow from the kitchen. “You see, this is painful for me. Personally, I never thought I’d watch my brother turn into…this.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at Wanda’s dramatic pity act, placing your book down. “Don’t be too hard on him,” you said, sending Pietro a fond smile.

The speedster, desperately trying to salvage his cool, opened his mouth to retort—but all that came out was a strangled cough. He quickly cleared his throat, mentally cursing himself for failing to say something suave like, I’m just dazzled by you, obviously.

Wanda decided she’d seen enough: her brother might never confess how he felt unless he got some help. She cornered you in the gym, where you were finishing up a routine. “You know my brother’s head-over-heels for you, right?” she said matter-of-factly.

You blinked in surprise, setting down a dumbbell. “I had a feeling. I…uh, like him too.” Your smile was bashful but unguarded. “He’s sweet, in his own weird, speedy way.”

Wanda smirked. “Well, I’m tired of watching him embarrass himself. Let’s do something about that.”

She proposed a plan: she’d lure Pietro to the observation deck, a quiet place perfect for stargazing, conveniently around the same time you’d be there. An accidental rendezvous, if you will. That evening, you stood on the open-air platform, staring up at the twinkling sky. The gentle wind ruffled your hair as you waited. Right on cue, Pietro arrived—though not at his usual breakneck speed. He sauntered in, probably coached by Wanda to “act normal,” though you could see the pulse in his neck beating fast.

“So,” you said, turning to face him. “Wanda said you wanted to talk?”

Pietro swallowed, his confidence visibly slipping. “I—yes, I did. But I—I didn’t know she’d, you know, ambush me like this. Not that I mind talking to you!” He paused to take a breath, clearly annoyed at himself for rambling. “Look,” he began again, more softly, “I like you. A lot.”

Your face heated at his directness. “Well, that’s good, because I feel the same way.”

The relief that flooded Pietro’s features was priceless, like he was finally able to breathe. “Seriously? Because sometimes I worry I’m, uh, coming off as a total dork—”

“Dork’s a strong word,” you teased, stepping a bit closer. “I’d say adorable.”

Pietro blinked. “Adorable? Me? That’s new.”

You laughed, the sound echoing sweetly under the stars. Without thinking, Pietro reached for your hand. Not to whisk you away at supersonic speed, but to gently lace his fingers through yours. “Maybe,” he ventured, “we could do something not orchestrated by my meddling sister? Like an actual date?”

Your nod was immediate. “I’d love that.”

When the two of you finally returned inside, hand in hand, it was as if the entire compound had been lying in wait. Clint almost dropped a bowl of popcorn in shock, while Tony paused mid-sip of his coffee, eyebrows shooting up. “Well, well,” Tony said, smirking. “Looks like Speedy finally found his voice.”

Pietro rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the grin. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Tin Man." From across the room, Wanda gave a thumbs-up, wiggling her eyebrows. You mouthed a “thank you,” and she winked.

[bohnerrific69]

when a girl says "think deary of me" she means this.

[aikohellscape]

Happy pride! Had to draw these cuties in honor of pride month

Somewhere across the multiverse, a blue mutant is making a speedster forget how to breathe.

——

I was working on just a Pietro version but then I decided to make a Peter version for @sixbeee cuz they have fueled my night silver obsession since the start. Anyway I hope you like it🫶🏽 I actually forgot what Kurt looked like since I hadn’t seen the movie in so long

[local-crying-boy]

Definitely not projecting what I’m doing… no… not all…

ANYWAYS.

Imagine <<Reader>> trying to learn Russian for whatever reason (me personally because of Natasha, like, c’mon she’d be an awesome mum) and they start watching cartoons in Russian to try and pick it up.

Oh, and how Pietro - <<Reader>>’s poor unknowing boyfriend - just gets dragged into watching Masha and the Bear because he wondered into their room.

He, of course, can understand what is being said, so he’s a little less entertained because it’s a kids show. <<Reader>>? Nah, they’re fully engaged in what’s going on, do they understand? Nope, not really, but they are laughing along and questioning certain things.

Pietro can’t escape by the way, no, no, no, <<Reader>> has him in their bed with their head on his chest as they watch it on the laptop.

Pietro doesn’t even know how the hell he got into the position, but he knows he is stuck until you decide to move onto something else.

[fandomnerd9602]

Country!Wanda sways to the music with Y/N

Wanda: look at you, going and fiddling with my heart there

Y/N: you fiddled with mine first

Wanda giggles as she leans her forehead against Y/N’s…

Pietro trudges up to them…

Pietro: I sometimes wished you two fiddled a little less!

He tries to balance little toddlers Billy and Tommy as they use him as playground…

[dearggntlereader]

I NEED more people to write for my boy Pietro maximoff!! He's just so- jkaksaklm

LOOK AT HIM!!!

[painted-flag]

RASPBERRY TARTS - p.m.

☾⋆⁺₊✧ part of my Marvel soulmate series, found here. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pietro maximoff x fem!reader .𖥔 ݁ ˖ warnings: action sequence, mention of parental death, and small depictions of violence. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 5.1k words. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ all you wanted was to run your shop, never did you expect to have your soulmate sprint into your life so chaotically.

The earliest memories you had were of your grandparents explaining soulmates. The exact cause was entirely unknown, but when a person was born they had the name of the person who shared their soul printed somewhere on their body. However, there seemed to be a split in the population; some people had the marks and others did not. 

You happened to fall into the percentage of people who possessed a soulmark. 

As a child, unable to understand much, you were excited at the prospect. However, as you grew and your grandparents revealed the truth of what happened to your parents, the idea of possessing a soulmate became bitter. 

Soulmates were not guaranteed love, or even friendship with their partners. Sometimes it ended in a happy ending, other times it did not. Your parents had been the latter. Soulmates, yes, but it did not work out in the end. It was hard coming to terms with their ugly divorce, even more so the plane accident that left you an orphan and under the care of your grandparents. 

Since then, the small words on your forearm seemed to glare at you. It was written in what you later learned was Sokovian. 

Pietro Maximoff. 

The name echoed in your head daily. 

It all came crashing down shortly after the Ultron incident in Sokovia. You had been in a cafe in New York, scouting out places with your friend to start a cafe, when the news was captivated by the rising city. Then, months later, the Avengers revealed two new members that were caught on camera saving the citizens with them. Pietro and Wanda Maximoff. 

You nearly had a heart attack that day and your friend, Evette, spent the rest of the day consoling you. She knew the name of your soulmate and had understood your rocky history with the concept. 

Now, four years later, you and Evette had established a cafe in Brooklyn and have since moved on. Every day, you could absorb yourself into freshly made bread and other goodies and not have to worry about the very real fact that your soulmate was a superhero and living in the city. Under no circumstances did you want to meet him. If it ended so horribly for your parents, surely the same fate would befall you? 

Especially if your soulmate was a high-profile person and the Avengers were not short on enemies. 

You were in the front of the bakery during a lull in customers while Evette was in the back prepping some ingredients. Things were calm for once, which made you relieved to get past the morning buzz of customers. Your hand held a cloth as you wiped down one of the counters. The bell of the door rang out as a new customer came in. 

You looked up to see a man who looked to be somewhere in his 40s. He had short, spiked dark hair and wore sunglasses. He was decently tall, fit as well, and walked with confidence. There was something there that was familiar, but you could not entirely pin it. He gave you a small smile as he came up to the counter. 

“Welcome, how may I help you today?” You put the cloth down and wiped your hands on your apron nervously. 

“I’ll have a medium black coffee with an apple fritter, please.” The man replied. You nodded while ringing his order up. While you were busy, he leaned against the counter. 

“I’ve heard good things about this place, but never had the time to come by.” He spoke. 

“Work keeps you busy?” You asked as you grabbed a to-go cup.

“You could say that,” He answered before taking note of your name on your name tag, “Don’t really come across that name often.” 

You shrug at his words, “I always thought it was common.” You poured the hot coffee into his cup and put the lid on before grabbing a small paper bag and tongs to grab a fresh apple fritter from the display case. You packed it up and placed it next to the coffee on the counter. 

“Well, it's nice regardless. I’m Clint. Good to meet you.” Clint gave you a friendly nod before turning to walk out of the door. 

“You too.” You responded. Just as he was going to leave, the TV broadcasted a recent bank heist that was thwarted by some Avengers. Video playback showed a quick ray of silver shooting back and forth before it stopped, revealing Pietro, while the reporter spoke over the footage and recapped the events from just a few minutes ago. 

You sucked in a breath. Pietro was undeniably an attractive man, which only made the situation worse. A superhero and hot? There was no way you could match that. Insecurity clawed at your heart for a moment. 

“Pretty incredible guy, right?” Clint casually asked. You turned to him, only to see him already facing you with a look of curiosity on his face. There was something in his look, patience, waiting for which you did not understand. 

Immediately you looked down at the counter, fiddling with a cloth while red coats your face, “I guess. I don’t really pay attention to that stuff.” 

You cringed afterwards. Don’t pay attention to ‘that stuff?’ How ridiculous could you sound? 

It was mainly the truth. You did not know the Avengers that well. It was never a priority for you. When the news of Pietro and his sister joining the team hit the media, you made sure to distance yourself as much as possible. 

“Don’t blame you. That stuff is dangerous. Have a good day.”

The man left quickly, leaving you alone in the bakery. Again, that feeling of familiarity crept over you as you watched him through the front glass. You almost thought long on it, but a bell at the door and a new customer coming in caught your attention. A smile made its way on your face as you prepared to continue your day.

The ache in your feet was already prominent and it was not even midday yet. The morning rush had been especially chaotic with some convention being hosted down the street. Evette was working overtime in the kitchen and you had zipped back and forth behind the counter filling orders and trying to keep a smile. 

When the crowd had dissipated, you slouched against the counter and stared at the floor with your eyes closed. It was a last-ditch effort to summon up some kind of will to continue working. A ding indicated a new customer. You immediately shot up and alert to greet them, only to relax and smile gently at who walked in. 

Clint had become a regular, coming in every day for the last two weeks. He was always calm and good at conversation while being incredibly witty. There was something fatherly about the way he interacted with people. It was something you sorely missed and lacked in your life. 

“You look dead.” Clint joked. 

Your hand rubbed one of your shoulders to try and relieve the tension, “I feel dead.” 

“Bad morning?” He asked while he looked at the pastries. One thing you knew about him was his insatiable attraction to baked goods. You were sure if the world came to an end, he would still run to the nearest bakery for a sweet treat. 

“Busy. That convention down the street has a lot of hungry people.” You sighed as you adjusted some of the coffee brewing items behind the counter. 

“You know, for someone who interacts with people as part of their job, you don’t seem to like them very much,” Clint spoke. 

“Trust me,” Evette spoke as she exited the back with a tray full of fresh pastries to load the display case, “I’ve told her how ridiculous it is.” 

You shrugged, “Big crowds aren’t my thing.” You were never a fan of crowded spaces; people shoulder to shoulder and speaking in shouts to one another. It was uncomfortable and only made you feel drained. 

“Well, what about galas?” Clint slyly asked. Evette stopped loading the pastries into the glass and looked at him. 

“What do you mean?” Evette asked. 

“There’s this gala tonight and I got the room on my invite for two more. Does that sound good?” Clint asked as he eyed the raspberry tarts. 

“Oh, uh-” You exchanged a look with Evette, prepared to turn him down before your friend interrupted. 

“We’re both in.” Evette smiled at you. You gave her an intense look of disapproval. She had been trying to make you get out there and meet more people lately, but you had put up a good fight so far. Clearly, you were outmatched. 

“Awesome. Here’s my number,” Clint slid a piece of paper across the counter, “Also, just my regular order, but I’ll take two of those raspberry tarts.”

Clint sighed with frustration as he sat on a high chair in the Avenger’s tower. His cup of black coffee, which was almost completely drunk, had gone cold. He had arrived to utter chaos in the living quarters. Pietro was running around, making markings on the ground as he jittered from place to place. Wanda sat next to Clint, happily eating one of the raspberry tarts as she watched her brother freak out. 

“I do not see what all the fuss is about,” Wanda spoke as she took a sip from a glass of water. Despite it being four years since they joined the Avengers, their Sokovian accents were still as thick as the day they met the dysfunctional – but somehow semi-functioning – family of superheroes. Pietro stopped zooming around and took the second tart. He bit down, humming at the nice taste, before opening his mouth. 

“This is going too fast. He was supposed to ease her into it.” Pietro rocked on the balls of his feet. For the first time in his life, he was nervous. A feeling he was not familiar with, nor ever wanted to feel again. 

“Too fast for you, speedy?” Clint exclaimed with disbelief, “Days ago you were whining that I was not making any tangible progress and now, when I finally manage to make it, I am suddenly in the wrong?” 

“Not like this. The gala is in eight hours!” Pietro started pacing. There was so much he had to do. He planned on having a grand entrance; a classic sweep-one-off-their-feet moment. He dreamed of it since he was a kid, even when he was unable to read the name of his soulmate as he had yet to learn English. It felt like he was staring down the barrel of a gun with limited time to move. 

“It was almost as if this was a horrible plan in the first place,” Wanda spoke. Clint nodded her way in agreeance with her words. 

“Look, you had Tony track her down and then sent me to scout the place. Remind me again why you think this is necessary?” Clint took a sip of his coffee, grimacing slightly at the cool temperature but still liking the flavour. Pietro’s soulmate makes a damn good cup, he thought to himself. 

“I can’t even leave the tower without being swamped by people because your stupid American media does not stop chasing me. I don’t want her to be overwhelmed or put in danger.” Pietro reasoned. For some reason, the American media has chosen Pietro to be a darling representative of the Avengers. Sure, he was a flirt, but it had been taken too far and became nauseating to go out. 

Clint hummed, “Fair point, but did you ever think that having me essentially lie to her these last two weeks was a good way to start this whole thing off?”

“Exactly what I said,” Wanda muttered before taking a final swig of her water. 

Pietro paused for a moment, raising his hands to his face and digging the heels of his palms into his shut eyes, “I did not think that part through.” 

“Do you ever?” Wanda teased. He looked towards his sister in challenge, but she only responded with a sly grin. His stress was getting to him and he took another bite from the raspberry tart. 

“Look, we have until tonight to plan it.” Clint got up from his chair and stretched his legs a bit, “Now, what did you originally have in mind?”

This was absolutely ridiculous. Evette insisted that the cafe be closed early to prepare for the gala. For hours, the two of you got ready. Thankfully, you had an appropriate dress in your closet left over from a wedding you went to a year ago. It was good enough for the gala, but not anything entirely special. Evette spent hours on your hair and makeup, as that was something she was particularly gifted in. 

It was odd to feel as pretty as you did, but the moment you showed up at the gala over an hour ago, it fled quickly. All the people here were stunning. The reporters, politicians, workers, and everyone in between. It was a charity event and the grandeur of the building shocked you. It was modern, elegant, and easily a damn expensive event. 

You and Evette had been on the guest list, welcomed in, handed champagne, and walked into the area. So far, the two of you have not found Clint. Admittedly, you were having a good time despite being slightly uncomfortable with the amount of people that were there. For the most part, you and Evette stuck to one another and only engaged in a few conversations with people. 

The two of you stood off to the side, engaged in a small conversation and sipping on champagne; both of you had lost track of the amount of glasses that had been consumed thus far. Both of you were looking out these large floor-to-ceiling glass windows that spanned the height of two storeys. The bright sparkling windows from the skyscrapers appeared to light up the dark sky. 

“Having a good time?” The familiar voice of Clint came from behind you two. You turned to see him walking up. This area was more secluded, away from the dazzling crowd. He wore a crisp suit with no tie and the first button undone. Casual, but still fancy. 

“It’s been alright.”

“This place is amazing.” Both of your voices chimed off at the same time. Clint laughed gently and stood up by you two. You felt an odd tingling feeling on your wrist where your soulmark was. It was covered by a thick bracelet and your fingers were unable to dig under and calm the itch. 

“There is uh, actually a reason why you’re here,” Clint began. You turned to find him already looking at you. An unsettling feeling crept up your spine. 

“Uh, guys?” Evette spoke, but it was whispered and unintelligible. She was looking out the window with an uncertain look painted across her face. 

“What is it?” You questioned Clint. His hands folded in his pockets and he looked around the room as if searching for something. 

“Well-” 

“Guys!” Evette caught your attention and pointed down to the street to a pack of suspicious vehicles, “What’s that?” 

You looked down the street to find vehicles moving at top speed, hurdling across the cement roadway. The two cars were large, armoured, and not stopping. For a moment, you froze while the worst thoughts flooded your mind. They wouldn’t, would they? 

“Shit,” Clint said before grabbing you and Evette’s forearms and dragging you out of the way. In a clash of loud noise and shattering glass, the two vehicles rammed into the windows and pushed into the building. The shards dispersed all over the place, hitting your bare forearms and causing a bunch of cuts to open up. You gritted your teeth at the stinging sensation. 

Everything was chaos. From your position on the floor, you could see people running all over the place while men in black clothes and balaclavas exited the cars with heavy weaponry. One of the men ran in your direction but stopped and fell to the ground instantly. You gaped in wonder when you noticed an arrow sticking out of his chest. 

Evette’s familiar grip on your arms brought you out of your daze. Your head had taken a harder hit than hers and a pounding behind your eyes started to appear. Beside Evette, standing tall, was Clint with a bow. 

Where the fuck did he get a bow from?

You watched as he shot another one of the invading men. It was then that you looked at him, really looked at him. Despite the chaos around you, your brain was finally thinking clearly. 

Had you really been this stupid? For someone who wanted to avoid the Avengers, you were damn talented at letting one become a regular at your shop and friend. Shame and guilt filled you. You were not dumb, he knew who you were, he must have. Coincidences like this were unlikely. 

Was this whole thing a setup of sorts? Did he actually stumble across your shop or was this planned? Before you could question anything further, you were brought back into the moment. 

“Down that hall!” Clint pointed to a door off to the side, “Go to the end and take a right, get out of here!” He pulled an arrow out of a quiver on his back, nocked it, and fired with speed and efficiency that would have amazed you if it were not for how dangerous the situation was. 

You and Evette wasted no time in heading towards the door with Clint following. He backed up with you two, focusing on shooting the men who scrambled across the floor of the grand hall. Evette opened the door to expose a long hallway, only to see that there were similarly dressed men there too. 

One of the men lifted his hand that held a glock. Clint, being closer to Evette, had a faster reaction time and managed to pull her out of the way. However, it left you vulnerable to the men in front of you. Before you could even think, a flash of colour blurred in front of you. Within a second of time, the two men lay on the ground incapacitated. 

Standing before you, was the person you did not ever plan on meeting. 

He was slightly taller than you expected, but just as rugged as the videos he appeared in. Pietro wore a white button-up with a loose tie around his neck. His clothing was dishevelled, indicating he had been fighting the invading men well before showing up to play rescue. Your heart felt like it lodged up into your throat. 

Pietro was better looking in person – if that was even possible. His silver locks with dark roots suited him, coupled with a strong nose and sharp jaw that was covered in stubble. He was obviously fit by the state of his muscles, especially the strain of his biceps against the white fabric of his shirt which had the sleeves rolled up just below his elbows. 

His eyes were the most striking part of his appearance. Vibrant and alert given the situation, but still somehow soft. There was a reflection of familiarity in his pupils, and you immediately understood that he may already know about you. It only added to the evidence you had that Clint’s appearance in your shop may not have been a coincidence. 

Pietro opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, his gaze never wavering from you, but the sound of a high-pitched scream back in the main room had his eyes snap to behind you. 

It was interesting to watch the silent conversation he had with Clint in those few seconds. Clint gave him a curt nod, almost as if giving reassurance, before you blinked and Pietro was gone; likely off to continue fighting. This dull ache settled in your chest at his disappearance and the itching feeling on your soulmark faded the further he left. 

Clint wasted no time in grabbing you and Evette and marching down the hall towards the exit door. He moved with speed, mainly so he could return to the fight. When he opened the door, a sleek back car was waiting in the alleyway. You had no idea how it got there or what it was originally for, but you did not have time to question it. Clint opened the back door and gestured for you and Evette to go in. 

“The car will take you home. It will drive to shake off any potential followers. Once home, lock your windows and doors and cover them if you must.” Clint spoke. 

Evette looked like she wanted to speak, but was stunned into silence and gratefully nodded before getting in. As you moved to follow her, Clint grabbed your wrist gently. You looked back at him with confusion. 

“It was not supposed to happen like this. I hope you know that.” With those words, you finally understood that this was, in fact, planned. The break-in by those guys was not, but your invitation from him was very much intended. Pietro’s attendance at this event was intentional. 

It almost hurt to think that Clint’s intentions were not casual. He had walked into your store, knowing damn well who you were – or at least who you were to Pietro – and acted accordingly. 

All you could do was nod before joining Evette in the car. Clint closed the door and it automatically locked. He quickly went back inside and the car took off down the alleyway and to the street. You looked forward and saw that there was no driver present. 

It was only until you had reached down the block that the adrenaline wore off and you could feel the pain of the cuts on your arm. Even worse, the dull ache in your heart.

The rattling buzz of your phone broke you out of your monotonous clean of one of the tables. You stopped your clean-up work and pulled it from the back pocket of your jeans. Clint’s name flashed across the screen and, like the many other times he has tried to call, you denied it. 

It had been almost a week since the incident at the gala. According to the news, the infiltrators were there because the organizer owed the mob. They were stopped, of course, mainly by Clint and Pietro – which the news kept playing footage that bystanders caught during the altercation. Thankfully, you had not been in any of them and you took that as a positive sign. 

Since then, Clint has tried to contact you. Truthfully, you were reluctant. The incident only proved one of your underlying fears; how unsafe you would be as a soulmate to an Avenger. The answer was lacklustre, though Evette had been trying to convince you otherwise. She wanted you to reach out and talk to Pietro at the very least. What bothered you the most was that she was right. 

Over these few days, you had thought about it. It was not fair for you to isolate yourself from your soulmate. He did not deserve that. This was not a one-way bond, but a shared commonality. A shared soul. You did not want to be cruel to the person that was fated to you. 

Admittedly, you were also scared. A soul bond did not necessarily mean a perfect connection. Would you even be good enough for a literal hero? You co-owned a cafe with your friend and played video games with her on the weekends. It was not exactly an exhilarating life. Would he even want an exhilarating life? Would you be boring?

You shoved your phone back into your pocket and took a centrepiece from the table to move behind the counter. As you were crouched down and organizing, the ring of the bell caught your attention. 

“Oh, sorry but we are clo-” Your words faded away as you stood up to see Clint there. He was standing casually by the door. You soulmark began to itch you you clocked the situation immediately. 

“He’s outside, isn’t he?” You asked. Your hands tapped the counter awkwardly as you tried not to sway on your feet. 

“Yes,” Clint nodded, “He’ll come in if you want him to.” 

“So, you’re still working as his little spy?” The comment felt harsh as it fell from your lips and you cringed slightly. 

Clint sighed, “Look, if you could let him explain.”

You almost wanted to laugh, “How he sent someone to essentially spy on me? Tell me, what did you learn in your reconnaissance?” It felt odd, having been treated like a mission. You were made a target of which they needed to gather intel on. Not a person, not even his soulmate; a mission. Would that be your life with Pietro?

Clint only leaned against a table, “You know he almost died in Sokovia.” It was not a question, but a bold statement that almost knocked you from your feet. That you did not know and the thought of it… 

“There was this kid I was trying to get out of there and, uh,” For the first time since meeting him, Clint got visibly uncomfortable and one of his hands lifted up to scratch the back of his head, “Pietro ran and took the bullets for us. By all accounts, he should have died but… he wished for us to find you if he didn’t. To take care of you.” 

His words felt like a direct punch to your face. You had been so selfish, so terribly selfish because of your fear that you never thought about him. His life of danger, of possibly never meeting you. 

“That kid is alive because of him. My kids still have their father because of him. All I’m asking is to give him a chance.” Clint finished his speech and waited for a response. You could not look at him, unable to reckon with it all. 

As if on instinct, you quickly went to brewing coffee as you silently contemplated his words. While it brewed – and you were sure to regret it later as it had already been cleaned for the day – you grabbed tongs and picked out and bagged the last apple fritter; Clint’s favourite. 

You placed it on the counter, along with the coffee you poured, and pushed it towards him. Clint made a move to reach into his pocket for his wallet, but you held out your hand. 

“Dont. Just take it and,” You paused to breathe out, “You can send him in.” 

Clint grabbed the items with a small smile on his face and gave you a nod. He made his way outside your shop and turned down the street and out of sight. You looked down at your hands as they shook with nerves. One of your hands fiddled with a ring on your other, turning it around and around as you waited with bated breath. 

The familiar ding of the bell above the door caught your attention. Looking up, you spotted Pietro standing in your shop. He wore casual clothing this time, dark blue jeans with a gray hoodie. His hands were in his pockets and you could tell he was nervous too. Again, you found yourself paralyzed by his eyes.

“I feel I have to explain myself,” Pietro spoke. You crossed your arms and nodded, unable to speak. 

“Clint was only doing me a favour. I was worried how you would feel about, well, me and my life, the Avengers…” He trailed off for a moment and took a few steps closer, “It can be overwhelming and dangerous at times, as I am now sure you know. Are you okay?” 

“Only a few cuts. Nothing horrible. You?” You had managed to walk out from behind the counter, but for some reason found yourself unable to get closer. 

“I’m fine. It was not supposed to be this way, I had planned on having some grand entrance. Sweep you off your feet. Not see you get hurt.” Pietro closed the distance. You noticed immediately how much taller he was. By now, the itch in your wrist has become intense. 

Pietro slowly reached out and used his hands to grab your wrist. He carefully pulled up your sleeve and exposed the soulmark on your wrist. His name, in bold black elegant letters, was sprawled on your skin. 

The moment his calloused fingers touched your skin, the itching ceased. Warmth pooled from the area and moved throughout our body. With your one free arm, you pulled up the sleeve of the hand that brushed over your mark and saw undeniable proof of your connection. Your name, sprawled in the same writing, was printed on his wrist. You touched it and you could feel him shudder under the sensation. 

“I, uh, still can be. Be swept off my feet, I mean. If you want.” You could not help but stutter. His close proximity, the smell of fresh mint and lavender, overwhelmed you. It did not help that the two of you seemed unable to let one another go. 

“That I can do.” Pietro smiled and turned over your hand, lifted it up, and brushed his lips across your knuckles without ever breaking eye contact. You could feel heat sweep across your face, which was no doubt red. 

“Smooth. Should that make me worried?” You asked. 

“Did you not say you wished to be swept off your feet?” Pietro answered. “Though I hate to ruin the immersion, I can’t help but ask, even if you are closed, if you happen to have any more of those raspberry tarts. Clint brought some this morning and, I have to say, you are good.” 

You could not help but be reminded of words your grandmother always repeated; the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. If it were not for such a tender situation, you would have laughed. 

You smiled at him, watching as he grinned back, “Well most of the food is made by my friend, but the tart is one of my recipes. We’re out but uh, we can make more right now if you want.” You were surprised by your own boldness. The experience you had with men was lacking, so your nerves on navigating uncharted waters ran high. 

“That sounds good,” Pietro answered. He gently pulled on your arm, bringing you somehow closer. His hand left yours to tuck some hair behind your ear, “Would it be alright to kiss you?” 

“Normally, yes, but I can let it slide.” You answered. 

Pietro took your invitation as a go and leaned in. You closed your eyes and lost yourself in the feeling of his lips brushing against yours. His stubble ticked just lightly, but it felt comforting. The warmth from his body ran higher than normal and you suspected it was due to his abilities. Your hands moved to his chest as you gripped the fabric there. 

Your heart was alight, buzzing with excitement as his lips moved against against yours. For the first time in your life, a thought burrowed itself into your mind. 

Maybe soulmates aren’t so bad.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ It was so hard not to turn this into a 15-20k word long fic. istg it’s like fighting demons. 

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[yourtypicalwriter]

The Dream Team || (Pietro Maximoff x reader)

GIF Originally posted by @steve-rogers

Words: 2441

Warnings: Some swearing, minor injury.

Summary: You and Pietro went on a mission and had a rough day. Y/n is an agent like Natasha.

Author's Note: I loved writing this one!! Most of the story is a hilarious, action-packed flashback of what happened during the mission. This is my first post and I’ve been working on it since August, so I hope you enjoy it.

-- Christina

➳ ➳ ➳

The file landed on Steve’s desk with a smack.

He looked up and found you and Pietro standing in front of him. “Well, if it isn’t The Dream Team.” He smirked.

The rest of the team coined you and Pietro as ‘The Dream Team’ because of how well you worked together. Yes, you had the occasional quarrel, but ultimately balanced each other out and kept the other in check.

Pietro stood with his arms crossed. “Is that what you wanted?” He asked, flatly.

Steve flipped through the documents. “Yup.” He barely glanced up to thank you. “Great work.”

‘Great work.’ After everything you went through today, he could at least look you in the eyes.

What was supposed to be a simple mission to retrieve intel from a covert HYDRA office in Delaware went completely sideways. It was supposed to be a low-key job: get in, grab the files, and get out, but it turned into a full-fledged, cross-city chase and an overall hell of a mess.

➳

You and Pietro stood about a mile out from where the HYDRA laboratories were located. 

Leaning against a tree, you watched as Pietro was kicking dirt, waiting impatiently.

You were waiting to meet up with a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who went undercover as HYDRA personnel a couple of months ago. They were going to get you past security and into a HYDRA scientist’s office so you could retrieve documents.

You jumped when you heard rustling from the trees, making Pietro spin around, too.

“What was that?” Concern washed over your face as branches continued to snap.

Pietro stepped in front of you, fist at the ready.

Emerging from the foliage was a woman in a business suit holding a briefcase.

You both exhaled and looked around.

“Hello, sorry for the scare.” The blonde-haired woman said. “It's a perfect day for a walk."

The both of you stood confused for a moment until you remembered the rest of the code sentence. "Oh right! I hope you brought an umbrella, just in case it rains."

She nodded. "So, you’re the ones I’m supposed to meet with? Agent Y/L/N, Maximoff, correct? 

You both nodded.

“I’m Agent 13.” She said, flashing her badge.

She placed her briefcase on a tree stump and opened it to reveal a computer. She began typing away. “Turgeon is on an hour lunch break, which leaves his office unattended and gives you two plenty of time to grab the file." 

You could hear the clicking of keys on the keyboard. 

“I was able to make a copy of Turgeon’s ID card too, so opening doors won’t be a problem.” Agent 13 continued. “Once you’re past security at the front doors, take the stairs; there’s less of a chance you’ll be recognized. Then, you’ll go to the 9th floor, swing a left, and the office will be the third door to your right. Do not draw attention to yourselves. We can’t risk anyone recognizing you.”

“Got it.” You and Pietro replied.

“Okay, I temporarily shut down their security system, but not for long.” She looked up at both of you. “You’re up. Get in and get out.”

“Ready?” Pietro turned to look at you.

“Ready.” You confirmed.

He scooped you up, and in a second you were a few meters away from the building, hidden behind a white van parked out front.

Pietro smoothed out his shirt, and you fixed your false glasses in the van’s mirror.

You began to worry. “This is stupid. How is no one going to recognize us? We’re literally so recognizable right now. It’s like how no one knows who Superman is, but it’s so obvious.”

Pietro walked towards you and put a hand to your shoulder. “Look at me.”

You were reluctant to, but you did it anyway.

“Take a breath, okay? Don’t worry.” He said calmly. “Just don’t draw attention to yourself, and we’ll be out of there before you know it, m’kay?”

You took a breath. “Okay. Let's do this.” You peeked out from behind the van, and once the coast was clear, you both made your way towards the front doors.

The security cards worked; now you were in the building and headed towards the stairs.

You stopped as a man with a mop and bucket was blocking the doorway to the stairs.

“Sorry. Can't use the stairs. Clean up.” He said flatly.

“Really?” You questioned.

“Seriously?” Pietro rolled his eyes.

The man shrugged and continued mopping the floor.

“Elevator, I guess.” You suggested.

You headed over to the elevator and repeatedly pressed the button.

The elevator doors opened to reveal about 10 people crammed like sardines. They tried to make an effort to shift around to accommodate Pietro and yourself.

You both tried to keep a low profile on the elevator ride. You didn't worry much; everyone was pretty preoccupied with the documents and folders in their hands that they didn't really look up at the two of you.

Once you arrived on the 9th floor, you and Pietro stepped out and made your way down the hall. 

You could see agents here and there, popping in and out of offices.

You arrived at Turgeon’s office and walked in. Pietro shut the door and you closed the blinds. 

You were looking for information on ‘Project Red Sky.’ Some files were more recent and on a hidden network, so you shoved a USB drive into the computer and began uploading everything. And some files dated back to the 60s, so Pietro went through the filing cabinets in search of information.

“Found something!” Pietro called out and placed the file on the desk.

You looked through it. “Great! Uh… just fold that up and put it in your pocket or something.”

“You’re sure that’s safe?” He questioned.

“It’s four sheets of paper; I think we’ll be fine.” You reassured him.

Once everything had been uploaded, you removed the USB and opened the office door.

With Pietro in front, you walked back down the hall towards the stairs.

Just then, someone bumped into you by accident.

The man who was previously looking down looked up at you, now puzzled.

“Sorry.” You said, head down as you continued down the hall, now a little faster, trying not to be recognized.

You could hear indistinct whispering behind you and felt people’s gaze upon you. You tugged on the back of Pietro’s shirt to give him a signal that you two had probably been compromised.

Pietro fell behind slightly to make sure that you were safely in view.

How nice, you thought sarcastically.

You peered over your shoulder. Not paying attention, you stumbled over a file cart that was being wheeled across the hall. Pietro used his powers to quickly stop you from hitting the ground.

Your arm was wrapped around his neck. “Woah. Thanks.” You said, looking into his blue eyes. Then you snapped out of your daze and realized what he had just done: shown his abilities in a place where that meant trouble. 

If the agents hadn’t already noticed you then, they sure did now.

“Hey!” A HYDRA agent called out.

You snapped your heads up.

“It’s one of the Enhanced. And her? She's with the Avengers!” The agent said, pointing straight at the both of you, who stood there like two deer in headlights.

The Dream Team had been caught. And that’s when shit hit the fan.

You and Pietro looked at each other and spoke in unison. “Aw, damn.”

One of the agents shot a device that latched onto Pietro, just as he made a move to grab you and run. The device sent a little shock wave through his body that immobilized his abilities. 

“Gah!” Pietro clutched his side.

It seemed to be a power inhibition device.

Alarms began to sound as HYDRA agents poked their heads out from their offices. 

He urged you to keep running. 

You grabbed Pietro’s arm and pulled him along, down the hall and towards the stairs. You threw the door open and started jumping down the steps as quickly as possible.

HYDRA agents were popping out of doors in the stairwell and joining the chase.

You reached the bottom of the steps and threw the door open aggressively.

“Hey!” Shouted the janitor.

“Sorry!” You yelled back.

“Why must you apologize for everything?” Pietro asked hurriedly.

With Pietro, plus about a dozen HYDRA agents, on your tail, you made it through the lobby and outside. You both stopped and looked around for an escape plan.

“What do we do?” You asked.

“We can’t keep running; they’ll catch up to us. Y/n!” He said hastily as agents approached.

You looked from left to right and spotted the van from earlier, with its back doors open.

“Shut up and follow me!” You said. 

Grabbing his arm, you pulled him into the back of the van and shut the doors behind you.

Pietro sat in the driver's seat. “I—uh.” He hesitated, unfamiliar with what he was supposed to do.

“You don’t know how to drive?!” You shouted as you could see HYDRA agents exiting the building from the side mirror. 

“Well, I didn’t really need to know how, now did I?” He questioned, making a running motion.

“Get up!” You shouted as you threw him into the passenger’s seat.

You plopped yourself down in the driver's seat and turned the keys that were still in the ignition.

You stepped on the gas pedal and drove into the city, HYDRA agents on your tail in their black SUVs.

“Get Tony on the phone.”

“Wh—”

“Don’t question me; just do it!”

Pietro took your phone out of your pocket, dialed Tony’s number, and put him on speaker.

“Hello?” Tony's voice rang through the phone.

“Tony! We need your help.”

“Y/n? Who’s ‘we’?” He asked.

“Me and Pietro.”

“Let me stop you right there. Speedy’s been on a pranking rampage, hiding my tools, screwing with my tech, and now expects—"

“Listen, I’m sorry, but I don’t give a crap right now.” You said, rushed. ”You can give Pietro shit when we get back.”

A soft “Hey” came from Pietro.

“Long story short," you continued, "we’re on a mission, and we’re on the move in the city. Is there any way you can autopilot the Quinjet to our location?”

“There’s always a way.” Tony reassured.

“There’s no way we can escape them!” Pietro looked back at the black SUVs following you.

“Hold on!” You ordered.

“Whoa!” Pietro shouted as you took a sharp right turn.

And another sharp right just in case.

“Jesus!” He yelped, the phone slipping out of his hands.

“Sorry! You can never be too sure.” You advised as Pietro picked the phone up from the floor.

The black SUVs were no longer behind you, so you guessed they drove right through the intersection.

“Tony, I need an ETA on the jet.” You said urgently.

“Okay,” Tony said, “There’s a parking lot about a quarter of a mile west from your location. I can land the jet there.”

“Perfect. I’ll let you know when we board the jet. Bye!” You said as Pietro pressed the end call button.

You spotted an alleyway and turned into it. The both of you rocked as the van hopped the curb and skidded to a halt.

“Get out.” You said quickly, unbuckling your seatbelt. “What?” Pietro questioned as he unbuckled his.

“HYDRA’s looking for a van, so we’ll be better disguised if we ditch it.” You jumped out of the van and slammed the door, prompting Pietro to do the same.

“Let’s go!” You started on foot.

You and Pietro were running down the sidewalk, people jumping out of your way.

You looked back and saw the black SUVs from before, rounding a corner.

“Seriously!?” You said, breathlessly.

HYDRA caught up to you… again.

Pietro started. “But you said—”

“I know, I know.” You cut him off.

“Can’t catch a break.” He said, as you both began running faster.

Luckily, you were getting closer to the Quinjet.

You approached the parking lot and ran as fast as you could through the loading hatch door.

Once inside, you ran upfront to press the video screen, “Tony, hurry! Start the engines and get us out of here!”

Then you pressed the ‘close door’ button as the SUVs got closer.

“Hurry.” Pietro waited impatiently, as he watched the agents exit the vehicles.

“C’mon, c’mon.” You whispered as the door closed slowly.

"Got it!" Tony said through the video screen on the dash.

The engines started up, and the plane slowly lifted into the air.

You sighed. “Thanks, Tony.”

“No problem,” his voice echoed through the small screen, “But you’re in for it when you get home, you little bastard.” He pointed to Pietro, and the screen turned off.

Pietro rolled his eyes and plopped himself down in one of the seats, just as you did.

Finally, you both had a chance to exhale.

➳

“Seriously, all of that only for you to say, ‘Great work’?” You questioned Steve.

“What?” Steve chuckled. “Were you expecting a hug?”

“Yeah! Maybe…” You shouted, which made him look at you, confused. “Ya’ know what? A hug would've been nice after the day we just had.”

Steve looked at you with a face that had ‘sorry’ written all over it. “Y/n, you know I was just—”

“Ah ah—” You interrupted him. “Good day, Steven.” You slapped your hand on the desk and marched out of the office as Pietro loosely followed.

You walked down the hallway, thinking about how you definitely reacted too harshly. You knew Steve was joking and didn't deserve that outburst. 

After all, he was only doing his job and giving orders. You knew he was busy, and now you felt bad for shouting at him. 

It had been a long day. You just wanted to climb into bed and rest your aching body.

You felt someone poke you. As you spun around to face Pietro, he wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head.

“Oof—” As much as you wanted to resist, you melted into his arms. How could you possibly fight this after the day you just had?

“There’s your hug.” He said with a smile.

“Thanks, Pietro.” You smiled.

“No problem. Also, I'm pretty sure Steve feels very terrible now.”

“Shush,” you tightened your grip around Pietro, “I'll give him his apology hug tomorrow.”

➳ ➳ ➳

Completed December 2024 ©2024 yourtypicalwriter

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