#m: pietro maximoff

[raccoon-tsu]

man i love him

[erinwantstowrite]

did pietro live in your universe? or did loki create the puppet based on a past experience with him before the age of ultron era? i know peter didn't recognize him and your timeline doesnt follow the mcus exactly so obviously circumstances around him could be different

he is still very dead, unfortunately. Loki peeked into another timeline to see Pietro after he learned about Flash. Peter doesn't recognize him because he's only met Wanda a couple of times and her face is always blurry from her magic (I hc Wanda has some major issues with her identity so i don't think this is canon, just a LoF thing), and he doesn't often see her in pictures. he only knows that Wanda has a brother that died semi recently

[andy-15-07]

hiii, hope you’re doing well! i was wondering if you could write something where y/n is an actress and meets aaron at some awards or maybe the met gala? i’d appreciate it soo much, i love your writing! thankss

Champagne & Fate

pairing: Aaron Taylor Johnson x female!reader

word count: 1031 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Aaron Taylor Johnson Masterlist

The cacophony of the Met Gala pressed in on y/n, a rising starlet still navigating the treacherous waters of Hollywood’s elite. Her emerald green gown, a daring choice, felt both like armor and a spotlight. She’d just finished a slightly awkward interview about her latest indie film, her nerves making her responses sound stilted. Sighing internally, she snagged a glass of champagne, hoping to blend into the glittering backdrop. That's when disaster struck. A sudden jostle from a passing waiter sent her bubbly cascading down the front of someone’s impeccably tailored tuxedo.

“Oh my god, I am so incredibly sorry!” y/n gasped, mortified. She dabbed uselessly at the spreading stain with a napkin. “I’m such a klutz.”

The man turned, and y/n’s breath hitched. It was Aaron Taylor-Johnson. Up close, he was even more striking than in photographs. His green eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, a disarming gesture that eased some of her panic.

“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled, his voice surprisingly warm. “Champagne showers are practically a Met Gala tradition. Consider yourself initiated.”

“Still,” y/n stammered, feeling her cheeks flush. “I’m y/n.”

“Aaron,” he replied, extending a hand. His grip was firm and warm. “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

They stood there for a moment, the spilled champagne forming a small puddle at their feet. y/n, still reeling from the embarrassment (and the proximity to him), blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I loved ‘Kick-Ass’!”

Aaron laughed. “Thanks. That feels like a lifetime ago. These days, I’m trying to graduate from superhero vigilantes to something a little more… nuanced.”

“Like what?” y/n asked, genuinely curious.

“I’m working on a psychological thriller at the moment,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “It’s dark, twisty, and completely messed up. I’m having a blast.”

“That sounds amazing,” y/n said. “I’m a sucker for anything dark and twisty.”

They talked for the next hour, oblivious to the swirling crowd around them. y/n was surprised by how easy it was to talk to him. He was intelligent, witty, and refreshingly down-to-earth. He didn’t treat her like some starstruck ingenue, but like a fellow artist. They discussed their shared passion for film, their favorite directors, and even debated the merits of method acting (he was for it, she was skeptical).

“You know,” Aaron said, leaning closer, his voice a low rumble, “I’d love to hear more about your indie film. The one you were talking about earlier.”

y/n’s heart fluttered. “It’s a small project, but I’m really proud of it. It’s a coming-of-age story, set against the backdrop of… well, it’s complicated.”

“Complicated is good,” Aaron said with a grin. “I like complicated.”

As the evening drew to a close, Aaron pulled out his phone. “I’d hate for our champagne-soaked conversation to end here. Would you mind if I got your number?”

y/n, trying to play it cool, but failing miserably, rattled off her digits.

“Great,” Aaron said. “I’ll text you tomorrow. Maybe we could grab coffee and talk more about… complicated things.”

“I’d like that,” y/n replied, her smile mirroring his.

The next day, a text arrived: “Aaron T-J: Coffee tomorrow? My treat. And maybe we can discuss the proper etiquette for champagne spills.”

y/n’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “y/n: Deal. But I’m warning you, I’m a terrible influence. Prepare for more accidental beverage-related incidents.”

Their coffee date turned into dinner, which turned into late-night talks on his apartment balcony overlooking the city. They discovered a shared love for old vinyl records, a mutual disdain for reality TV, and a surprisingly compatible sense of humor. The whirlwind romance that followed was a blur of stolen kisses, whispered secrets, and a growing sense of connection that neither of them could deny.

One rainy Saturday afternoon, they were curled up on Aaron's couch, watching an old black and white movie. A comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the crackling of the fireplace. y/n felt a sense of belonging she hadn't experienced before. She looked at Aaron, his face illuminated by the flickering light, and a warmth spread through her chest.

He turned, catching her gaze. He smiled, a soft, intimate smile that made her heart skip a beat. He reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

"y/n," he said, his voice quiet, "I know things have moved quickly between us, but... I can't imagine my life without you in it."

y/n's breath hitched. She knew what was coming, and her heart pounded in her chest.

"I love spending time with you," he continued, his eyes searching hers. "You make me laugh, you challenge me, and you make me happier than I've ever been. I was wondering... would you want to move in with me?"

y/n's mind raced. Moving in together was a big step, but it felt right. It felt natural. She loved being with Aaron. She loved their late-night talks, their shared laughter, and the way he made her feel.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "Yes, I would love to."

Aaron's smile widened. He pulled her closer, kissing her softly. "I can't wait," he murmured against her lips.

The next few weeks were a flurry of packing, organizing, and merging their lives together. y/n's apartment felt empty without her, but her new home with Aaron felt full of promise. They painted the spare room a warm, inviting shade of blue, turning it into y/n's writing room. They rearranged the furniture in the living room, creating a cozy space where they could relax and unwind after a long day.

One evening, after they had finished unpacking, they stood in the doorway of their apartment, looking around at their shared space. y/n leaned against Aaron, her head resting on his shoulder.

"It feels like home," she said softly.

Aaron wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. "It does," he agreed. "It feels like we're finally where we're supposed to be."

And as they stood there, surrounded by the quiet comfort of their new home, y/n knew that she had made the right decision. She had spilled champagne on her future, and it had led her to a place where she truly belonged.

[raccoon-tsu]

MY SWEETHEART

i miss peter maximoff sm

[gingerteafairy]

𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 + 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐰𝐬𝐤𝐢 – 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡

Dave would have nearly all the love languages, but these two fit him best. As Kick-Ass, he would go out of his way to solve conflicts in your life, often being a bit nosy. If he found out someone made you cry, that person could expect a serious conversation (a real talk—he couldn’t actually fight them). He loves hugs and never misses the chance, even when you’re busy. He adores studying and gaming with you on his lap. "Would you mind sitting on my lap? It's for my exam. Really important, okay?" #1 PDA king.

𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐢 𝐯𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐲 – 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡

Alexei would be the biggest fan of long night walks and picnics, where he could admire you and take in every detail of your world, from the sound of your laugh to the subtle way your breath deepens when he gets too close. If the conversation faded, he’d simply trace his fingers over your face, memorizing the texture of your skin and every hair in your brows, cherishing even the tiny imperfections you hated. "If you ever change, i fear that stars will fall with me to the ground. you're perfect this way."

𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞 – 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬

He loves holding hands and kissing, yet he’s not a fan of being overly clingy and prefers other ways to show affection. He’d write songs for you, teach you how to play bass, and share headphones with you. He’d love when you visited the shop but wouldn’t let you help with the heavy work—he didn’t want you to get overworked. "You can help the cashier. You're good with numbers, right? Always thought you were smarter than me."

𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐫 – 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬

Tom is used to being praised, he loves having his ego stroked. This carries over into how he handles romance, where he’s quick to compliment you without overthinking it. “That’s really good, you’ve got talent.” “You look great today—did you do something with your hair?” Random gifts? Absolutely. Part of it is because he had the money and liked showing off, but deep down, it was because he loved seeing your surprised smile. “This? Oh, just bought it on sale.” (5K dollar jacket.)

𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 – 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

Pietro is impulsive—his actions tend to come before he fully thinks things through. If someone upset you or made you insecure, even if it was in the past, he’d probably end up in a scuffle. Too tired to go grocery shopping? In a flash, he’d grab everything you need. Forgot to thaw the meat for dinner? No problem, he’d use physics to handle it in no time. "You saw that? Only for you, baby."

𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 – 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Because his job is so unpredictable, Tangerine prefers to show affection when he’s with you. He’d sit you on his lap and listen to you talk about what happened while he was gone. It was his way of forgetting all the work chaos and focusing on how normal life could still be. He even taught you how to trim his mustache just to have you close. And of course, he’d always compliment your talents, beauty, and everything you did—with that signature dirty mouth of his. “Shit, darlin'. You’re so fucking good for me. love ya."

[masterofmagnet]

[X-Factor #79]

[mintyys-blog]

AGE GUESSING— avengers x reader

WARNINGS: none

It was a quiet afternoon in the Avengers’ compound, and you had found yourself lounging in the common area, a soft drink in hand. Pietro, ever the talkative one, had taken a seat next to you.

“So, how old do you think I am?” Pietro asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned back, crossing his arms.

You shrugged and eyed him. “Hmm, early thirties?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Early thirties? Is that your lower guess?”

You blinked, a little confused at his reaction. “Uh, well… I guess you could be mid-forties then?”

Pietro’s face shifted from smug amusement to mock offense. “Mid-forties?” he said, pretending to clutch his chest. “How old do you think I am? A grandpa?”

You laughed nervously, unsure if you had crossed a line. “I just thought… you know, you’ve been around for a while.”

His grin returned as he leaned in closer. “Just for the record, I’m 28, so… that’s a bit of a stretch.”

You blinked again, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Oh, right. Well… that’s not too far off, right?”

Pietro let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re lucky you’re cute. But next time, maybe take a guess a little more carefully.”

Before you could even think of a response, Clint, who had been eavesdropping from the kitchen with his mug of coffee, chimed in.

“Is this a guessing game I’m missing out on?” Clint asked, clearly entertained.

You smiled, glad for a new distraction. “Yeah, I was just guessing Pietro’s age. He’s in his… mid-forties.”

Clint let out a loud, genuine laugh. “Mid-forties? Pietro, you’re really gonna let her get away with that?”

Pietro threw up his hands, looking mock-offended. “I tried to correct her!”

You, sensing a bit of an opportunity to lighten the mood, leaned back in your chair. “Alright, Clint, your turn. How old do you think I think you are?”

Clint smirked, wiping his mouth after taking a sip of his coffee. “I dunno. I’ll take a wild guess… fifty?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Fifty? You think I’m that generous?”

Clint laughed. “No, no. I’m a bit older than that, but I think I can handle it. Go on, guess again.”

You put your finger to your chin, deep in thought, before a wild guess popped into your mind. “Sixty?”

Clint spat his coffee out in shock, eyes wide as the liquid splashed across the counter. “Sixty?!” he gasped. “You think I’m sixty? Do I look like a senior citizen to you?”

You blinked, genuinely startled by his reaction. “Wait, I thought… well, you’re a bit older than Pietro… I don’t know, you just have the… experienced vibe. I figured…”

Clint shook his head in disbelief. “I’m forty-five, not sixty! Seriously, sixty?”

“Oops, my bad,” you said sheepishly, feeling the awkwardness of the moment.

Clint was still staring at you like you had just told him his favorite pet was dead. “You’re never getting another guess in with me, kid.”

Before you could apologize or explain yourself further, Clint turned to the others, his face a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Alright, let’s see if you can mess this up for me. Guess the ages of Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Thor.”

You sat up, thinking carefully. “Okay, Tony’s definitely in his sixties. Steve’s younger, maybe in his thirties?”

Clint snorted in amusement but didn’t interrupt.

“Natasha… hmm, she’s around my age, maybe late twenties?” you guessed confidently.

“And Thor?” Clint asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You squinted in thought. “Thor… well, he’s gotta be in his forties, right?”

Clint laughed even harder this time. “You… you’re off by a mile on all of them!”

Tony, who had been lurking nearby, suddenly appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed, an eyebrow arched in disbelief. “Did you just say I’m in my sixties?” he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Really? Sixties? I’m not even fifty yet, kid.”

You turned slowly to face him, casually sipping your drink through the straw. “Hey, I was just taking a guess. You look wise for your age. So what, you’re, like, fifty-eight?”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “Fifty-eight?! Do I look like I need a cane to you?”

You shrugged, looking completely unbothered. “What can I say? You’ve got that distinguished vibe.”

Steve entered the room just as Tony was about to say something else, but he only gave you a slight smile. “Don’t worry, I’m sure my age guesses were just as bad.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You’re probably in your… thirties?”

Steve’s face broke into a mischievous grin. “Try again, kid. I’m actually in my nineties.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

Steve shrugged casually. “Yeah, well, I was frozen in ice for 70 years, so… that sort of messes with the age thing.”

You stared at him, completely flabbergasted. “Wait, so you’re actually that old? And you look… what, thirty?”

Steve chuckled, clearly used to this reaction. “I’m good at taking care of myself.”

Natasha, now walking into the room with a raised brow, heard her name and grinned. “What, you think I’m in my late twenties?”

You shifted in your seat, not even phased. “Yeah, you give off that vibe. Early twenties maybe?”

She laughed, holding up a hand. “I’ll take that compliment, but I’m actually 38.”

You chuckled sheepishly. “Oops.”

Thor, always the giant of the group, walked in with a booming laugh. “What have I missed, my friends?”

You glanced up and smirked. “I think you’re, like, 45, right?”

Thor roared with laughter. “I am 1500 years old, mortal!” He clapped a hand on your shoulder with enough force to almost knock you off balance.

You blinked up at him, utterly unfazed by his dramatic announcement. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, you look great for a 45-year-old.”

“Not quite,” Tony mumbled, still trying to recover from the “sixties” comment.

You leaned back and sipped from your drink, totally casual. “Boomer,” you muttered under your breath.

With that, you stood up and strolled away, leaving the Avengers to stare after you in complete and utter disbelief.

Clint, still laughing, shook his head. “You really know how to make an impression.”

[pretty-little-mind33]

⭐️ anon here, i hope this makes sense lol

i was thinking about the scene in civil war where vision makes wanda’s favorite food from her country, and it was close but also adorably off?

wondering how that would translate if pietro tried to make reader’s favorite food from their childhood..maybe he messed up kind of bad, but reader is sweet about and offers to help?

hi ⭐️anon!

aw yes! i think Pietro would be quite shit at cooking 😭 but maybe he really really wants to make this meal for reader because he thinks they'll love it (and they need a pick me up) and so he spends HOURS in the kitchen.

He burns the food.

Almost sets the entire kitchen on fire.

but reader comes rushing down and offers to help him and he's all pouty and says something like; "But this was your surprise. I'm supposed to make this for you."

And reader just shuts him up with a kiss and begins to show him how to properly make the dish 🥺

YOUR HONOR, I LOVE THEM!

[dcmarvel-relationship-polls]

[raccoon-tsu]

i love them

[deyageka]

.

.

No srsly I can’t believe they’ve actually done this:

(+)

[andy-15-07]

Hey! I really like your Aaron Taylor-Johnson story. Maybe, if you have some time, would you write an Aaron × reader in which he has an accident on set and they bring him to a hospital. Reader is his girlfriend and visits him in the? Tysm

In Sickness and in Health

pairing: Aaron Taylor Johnson x female!reader

word count:629 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Aaron Taylor Johnson Masterlist

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when Y/N’s phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. She glanced at it, expecting a message from Aaron saying he’d be home late from set. Instead, the screen displayed an unfamiliar number. Frowning, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?” The voice on the other end was strained, hurried. “This is Mark, the assistant director on Aaron’s film. There’s been an accident on set.”

Her heart dropped. “What? What kind of accident?”

“Aaron took a fall during a stunt. He’s conscious, but we’re taking him to St. Mary’s Hospital. You should come right away.”

The world spun for a moment. She barely remembered grabbing her keys or how she navigated the traffic to the hospital. All she knew was that Aaron was hurt, and she needed to be by his side.

The fluorescent lights of the hospital lobby felt harsh against her eyes as she rushed to the front desk.

“I’m here for Aaron Taylor-Johnson. He was brought in from a film set accident.”

The nurse nodded, her expression softening. “He’s in the ER. Second floor, Room 214. Take the elevators down the hall.”

Y/N mumbled a quick thank you and practically sprinted to the elevators, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. When the doors opened on the second floor, she saw Mark pacing in the hallway.

“Mark!” she called out.

He turned, relief washing over his face. “Y/N, thank God you’re here.”

“Where is he? How is he?”

“He’s stable. The doctors are checking for any internal injuries, but he’s awake and asking for you.”

Without another word, she pushed past him, her feet carrying her to Room 214. She hesitated for just a moment at the door before pushing it open.

Aaron was lying in the hospital bed, his head bandaged, a bruise blossoming along his jaw. But his eyes—those beautiful, familiar eyes—lit up when they met hers.

“Hey, love,” he rasped, his voice hoarse but warm.

She rushed to his side, her hands trembling as she cupped his face gently. “Aaron, what happened?”

“Stupid stunt went wrong,” he murmured, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “Didn’t tuck and roll like I should have. Landed hard.”

“God, Aaron, you scared me.” Her voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, covering her hand with his. “I’m okay now that you’re here.”

A nurse entered the room, checking his vitals and giving Y/N a sympathetic smile. “We’re going to keep him overnight for observation, but he’s a tough one. Should be back on his feet in no time.”

When the nurse left, Y/N pulled a chair up to Aaron’s bedside, never letting go of his hand.

“You have no idea how scared I was,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again,” she said, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Aaron squeezed her hand gently. “Deal.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the beeping of the heart monitor the only sound in the room. Y/N stroked his hair gently, careful to avoid the bandage.

“You know,” Aaron said softly, breaking the silence, “this made me realize something.”

“What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“How much I need you in my life. I don’t ever want to be without you.”

Her heart swelled, and she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re stuck with me, Taylor-Johnson.”

“Good,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering closed, exhaustion finally taking over.

She stayed by his side all night, holding his hand, silently thanking the universe for keeping him safe. And as the first light of dawn filtered through the hospital blinds, she knew they’d face whatever came next together.

[delphinetsthjm]

I just had a vision

[raccoon-tsu]

why did you call me out like that man ...

put quicksilver fans Infront of the two scenes he has (y'all know the ones) on repeat and they're watching it like a couple of 5 yr old w cocomelon

[nightsilver]

me and the bad bitch i scored by being weird and annoying