#pietro imagine

[sebsbarnes]

hole in the wall || pietro maximoff

pietro maximoff x f!reader

summary: despite barely knowing the brainwashed girl beyond the wall, pietro refused to hurt her, no matter how much she hurt him.

word count: 5k+

warnings: fighting, none rlly??

a/n: the russian is translated so i apologize if the translation is wrong. i wrote for pietro years ago but this is my first time in awhile :P reader is subjected to the same torture as bucky bc the character is kinda him, inaccuracies in the mcu but nothing crazy

masterlist

pietro often wondered about the girl who was held next door. he'd hear the screeching metal against the floor followed by a slight commotion and then a thud on the floor. small shuffling could be heard and then it was silence. no movement, no talking, no heavy breathing or cries, silence until the next time the metal door unleashed its harrowing song, and large boots could be heard entering the cell and dragging the girl away.

pietro couldn't tell how long he'd really been here nor how long it had been since the mysterious girl next to him was there but he did know it had been months on end and yet he had never seen a glimpse of the girl that shared the wall with him.

there was a small hole in the cement that allowed him to peer into the girl's cell but each time he looked he was met with the grey wall from beyond. he had heard murmurs that she was young like him and wanda. strong, fearless, one of the doctor's favorites. she was often sent out on missions and came back unscathed. each mission she was sent on was a success as if the concept of failure was unfathomable. she apparently spoke little, only when instructed, never talked back, never laughed, never screamed. almost robotic.

which is why it came to pietro's surprise after hearing the thud of her knees hit the floor and the guards march away he heard a soft sniffle. and then slightly louder ones followed by rapid and heavy breathing. pietro scuffled over to the hole in the wall and peered through. he could see her sitting against the far wall with her legs tucked closely to her, her forehead resting on her knees. he could only see half her body from where she was sitting but he could see her shoulder shaking.

"you... you need to breathe in and out. you are going to make yourself pass out," pietro was unsure, his voice quiet but loud enough for her to hear. her head shot up and looked directly at the hole. her hair was sticking to her face, her mouth was slightly parted, and eyes wide and red.

"it's okay. my name is pietro. you don't need to talk but i... i wanted to see if you are okay. you've never even made a noise before now," he felt funny slightly confessing the fact he's been taking note of your actions.

he watched as you wiped the tears off your cheek and raked the hair off your face.

"i don't know how i am," your voice sounded like you hadn't spoken in days.

"it's okay to not know."

from where you sat you could only see the boy's eye. it was a striking blue, "like the sky," you murmured.

"what?" you heard the voice call back.

you slowly stood up dragging your chained feet over to the wall. you held the wall, steadying yourself before sitting with a huff, "your eyes remind me of the sky."

pietro wasn't sure what to say back. he went months not hearing your voice or seeing you, only knowing the tales that the guards spoke of yet here you were inches from him, broken down and giving a compliment. a much different reality to the one he thought he knew before.

pietro didn't hear another word from you, he assumed you fell asleep against the wall. he tried looking through the hole at any angle he could to see you, but all he noticed was a piece of metal gleaming from the dull light in your cell.

a few days had passed since the interaction and pietro had little time to dwell on it. his testing was getting more intense, he was constantly being injected with needles he knew nothing about, there were many monitors reading whatever vitals they needed to document, and his training was becoming more rigorous. he was exhausted, he hadn't been in his cell in two days, and although the cell offered no comfort he much rather be locked behind the bars than strapped to a table.

the guards pushed him down the hallway, taunting him. each time he stood up they would push him back down. the shackles on his wrists rubbed his skin raw and those around his ankles prevented him from running. the guard gripped his shoulder tightly walking past wanda's cell as she called out to her brother.

"wanda!" he screamed out as he watched the other guard reach through the bars and grip at her neck. the guard holding onto him roughly pushed him into the cell causing him to stumble and land on his shoulder, his face grazed the cement floor.

you had heard the commotion from your cell, you stood at the door looking over at the guards who simply laughed at the twins who were now in pain. all you could do was grimace. you hated this, you hated this place, each day you yearned to leave this hell hole you've called home. you heard pietro scream in frustration and then heard his rapid movements as he ran around his cell, thrashing against the walls.

you had seen pietro from a distance a few times. you were never allowed to be near the enhanced people and only managed glimpses of them. you had seen his super speed and the way the scientists trained him. it was brutal and he endured a lot just from the few moments you had witnessed. you started to notice that after particularly rough days he would do this, run back and forth for what seemed like hours on end. slamming into the cement walls that would somehow rattle from the force. he would yell in anger, cursing the guards and scientists for what they were doing.

the noise settled and you hesitantly sat in front of the small hole. you could see his large frame hunched over catching his breath. he ran a hand through his messy silver hair, his white tank top was dirty and slightly damp from his running. you peered behind your shoulder at the hallway making sure it was empty. you swallowed thickly with nerves in fear of getting caught before forcing three fingers into the hole and ripping the cement block from the wall. you could now fit your head through the hole comfortably if you wanted to.

"pietro," you said placing the block beside you. he faltered and gestured with an open hand in confusion at the now gaping hole in the wall. you couldn't help but pull your lips into a tight light suppressing the laugh you wanted to let out at the look on his face. using his speed he rushed to face you, eyes wide examining the open edges of the cement.

"you-"

"are strong," you cut him off jokingly.

the two of you sat staring at each other. it was weird to be face to face after countless months of unknowing the other despite being separated by only a wall. you took in his appearance. he was handsome. up close you could now see the slight curls to his hair and the short facial hair. his shoulders broad and built. under his sky-blue eyes were dark circles from the lack of sleep but it suited him. he was stunning and pietro was thinking the same about you. your hair fell haphazardly across your forehead. your eyes were kind and gentle, much different than the stone-cold eyes he had imagined in his head. your lips were pulled to one side in the tiniest of smiles as you took in his appearance. pietro found it hard to believe the stories he has heard about your reputation as he stared at you. expression soft, eyes and smile kind, you looked battered and worn down but still so youthful as if you didn't fit in with the surrounding grey walls.

"are you okay?" you finally asked.

pietro's nostrils flared and his eyes fluttered shut, "i don't know."

you hesitated a moment before repeating his words from a few days prior, "it's okay to not know."

if you weren't staring intently at the man before you you would've missed the smile that flashed across his face at your remark. it was soon washed away when you both heard loud footsteps from down the hall. you both quickly turned towards the noise that was approaching pietro's cell, he gulped harshly as a guard came into view. he looked back at the wall expecting to still see your face but instead, he saw a metal hand escaping through the hole as if the cement was never removed.

metal...?

it must have been late in the night. the guards had already dropped off the atrocious meal they call dinner and returned to pick the trays up. they rarely patrolled the hallways at night, opting to smoke outside. it was eerie each night. the sound of dripping water from pipes echoed, the occasional gunfire could be heard from the woods outside, slight whispers could be heard from the twins once in a blue moon but it was rare. in a place like this, they didn't let you be a person so it was hard to act like one.

pietro was lying on the bed facing the ceiling making a laughable attempt at trying to get some sort of sleep. he was imagining his life before this when his family was all together, when times were happy, when he was just a little kid and not a young adult performing for crazed scientists. his eyes scanned the room at the sound of bricks moving before seeing your head pop into vision from the hole. pietro let out a small laugh through his nose seeing your sheepish smile.

you sat facing the other not saying anything at first. it was oddly comfortable being face-to-face with the one they call quicksilver. you couldn't put your finger on why though. you've spoken so few words to him but then again it was the first time you let yourself speak to someone in this building that wasn't a doctor or a guard. maybe it was you being naive but it felt okay and safe.

"what made you cry the other day?" he finally spoke his question causing you to blink a few times.

"i think... i think they do something to my head. i mean, i know they do," you thought bringing your fingers to your temple as if the gesture helped you remember, "but i think i'm starting to notice when i'm on missions. it's hard to really know though it's all a blur."

pietro nodded softly taking in what you had to say, "like... brainwashing?"

"it has to be. they recite something each time and then it's like i'm not me," you confessed, "but these past few missions i'll overhear things from strangers passing by or i'll see something and i can feel myself start to wake from the trance. i'm starting to remember life before here and i'm becoming aware of what they have me doing."

"whatever it is they have you doing just know you are still a good person," pietro spoke quietly.

"i kill people," you said bluntly looking him straight in the eyes. he averted his gaze slightly, his hand coming to caress his jaw.

"the person they turn you into out there isn't you. the real you is sitting in front of me now."

"how can you be so sure, you don't even know me," you questioned.

"i don't think an out right evil person would check to see if a stranger is okay... or compliment them the first time they see them," pietro joked slightly. you hung your head as your lips pulled back into a smile. pietro couldn't help the way his body leaned closer to the hole with a big smile on his face observing the way you became shy.

"no one in this building is perfect. we've all done things that are considered evil but if we manage to hold on to some sort of sense of ourselves i think we will be okay. i hope wanda and i get out of here soon. it was a mistake yanno, being volunteers, i regret it. it makes me feel worse knowing you had no say in the matter. you're here every day as a puppet against your will and yet i walked through these doors. every day i'm in pain and every day i regret it," pietro's accent got thicker as he got emotional.

you frowned at the silver-haired man, "life in here is already hard enough, there is no point in being hard on yourself."

his eyes were glossed over, internally fighting himself for the choices he had made in the past. you reached your hand into the hole searching for his. this was out of character for you but it some selfish way you wanted the warmth of his hand to comfort you as well. it was peaceful sitting in silence holding each other's hand. the only form of physical touch the two of you ever received was in the form of torture. gruff hands slapping, punching, shoving, and poking you seemed like a far and distant sensation compared to the safety you felt as pietro's thumb traced the back of your hand.

"you should rest," pietro finally broke what felt like an hour's long silence, "they usually take you first."

you sighed deeply but you knew he was right. god knows what hour it was and you needed to try and get some sleep. pietro gently let go of your hand and allowed you to snake it back through the hole.

"thank you pietro. i hope we can talk more soon," you told him earnestly.

"i hope so too," he gave you a lopsided grin before you grabbed the brick.

it was mere days later when you two found yourself in the same position. the guards were out, pietro had finished his talks with wanda, the disgusting dinners were consumed and taken away, and here you were staring into the sky amongst grey walls. pietro noticed your face had small cuts scattered on it from a mission you were sent on a day prior but you had made no mention of it thus far. you were currently enthralled by pietro telling a story from his younger days. pietro was funny and he didn't even need to try, it had been years since you felt the burning sensation in your sides from laughing too much but he made it easy. and pietro loved the sound of your laugh, it was beautiful, irresistible almost. the two of you went back and forth sharing any memories you could remember from life before these walls and it was effortless but you knew just like the other nights it was soon time to hide the hole.

"you're really pretty," you confessed.

pietro's mouth formed an 'o' shape before turning into a giddy smile, "you are beautiful, dragă"

this time it was pietro plugging the brick back into the wall just as he was about to finish a loud booming voice came from your side of the wall. his hands shook slightly at the volume of the guard yelling 'soldier' in russian to you. pietro could no longer see what was happening but he heard you stand up and reply back and leave the cell.

although you and the guard walked in silence you knew he saw you talking to pietro. you continued to clench and unclench your fists trying to calm yourself for what was to come.

"Тебе нравится мальчик?" (do you like the boy?) the guard asked placing a firm grip on your shoulder, pushing you towards the all too familiar room. you stayed quiet and you heard the man snicker to himself, satisfied with your silence.

in the room, several other guards were standing in position, many holding guns. you saw the needles and wires spread across the small rolling table with a doctor in a white coat hunched over it. the monitors sitting idly waiting to read your vitals. the guard that escorted you pushed you into the contraption that stood before you forcing your body flush against the back. immediately automatic shackles secured your arms to the chair and the whirling sound of small electric plates situated themselves against the sides of your head.

"смешно... ты, кажется, молчишь только рядом с нами," (funny... you only seem to be quiet around us.) the doctor smirked, admitting they all were aware of you and pietro speaking. the doctor sucked his teeth as you glared at him, unwilling to confess to anything.

he picked up the mouth guard from the table wiggling it in front of your mouth waiting for you to open. you bit down in anger, all the muscles in your face twitching, your eyelids blinking rapidly pushing back any emotion daring to creep up at what you knew was about to happen. it wasn't often they wiped your memory, only when they deemed your actions defied them, like not getting enough information on missions which was rare. it had been months since the last time they did this. you screamed in agony as the electric volts zapped against your head. sweat started to bead across your thrashing body. it was indescribable and it wasn't a short process but once the currents stopped your world was black and each time you'd wake up in your cell with no recollection.

it was a week later you found yourself in the training room after being isolated since the memory wipe. your shoulders were hunched forward, chest facing the ground, your arms swayed ever so slightly by your side, your breathing was ragged after being beaten in the form of "training" for the last two hours. the doctors insisted it would be over soon, one final test for the day before you could go to your cell. the door creaked open and the familiar sound of boots entered, you didn't even bother looking up.

"солдат!" (soldier!) a guard yelled causing you to slowly pick your head up. at the door was a young man you'd never seen before, he wore tattered pants and a tank top, his hair was silver, and his blue eyes were opened wide in what you could only assume was shock. and though you didn't recognize him, pietro recognized you.

up until now, he had never seen your full figure before, only parts of your body that were visible through the hole. despite you clearly being injured and tired you stood tall and pietro could tell you were strong. the most alarming part about you was your arm... your metal arm. pietro's eyebrows scrunched together, head slightly cocked to the side examining the way the metal met your skin, some scar tissue bright red while others were faded.

before pietro could mutter any words aloud a doctor appeared from a side door and sauntered towards you holding a notebook.

"работа...установить..." (work...establish...) the doctor read.

"please, no," you whispered, your neck screwing to the side as if it will block the doctor's voice.

"станция..." (station...)

pietro watched as your chest heaved air in and out as the doctor continued reciting from the book, circling your body like a predator ready to attack. he watched as your teeth chatter together and your metal hand flexed. the doctor stopped behind your right shoulder leaning down slightly so his mouth was level with your ear. pietro couldn't hear the whispers but he felt nervous at the doctor's intense eye contact and the loud clap of the notebook being shut. the doctor lazily dragged his hand off your shoulder whispering one final command before exiting the way he came.

pietro jumped at the sound of the door behind him slamming shut as the guards snuck out, leaving only the two of you in the room.

"wha- WOAH!" pietro shrieked as you came barreling towards him at full speed, your metal arm raised high in the air to come down on his body.

"please i don't want to hurt you," but his pleas were left unheard as you socked him in the jaw, tossing him to the ground and repeatedly punching his stomach. although being fast, pietro found himself trapped beneath you and it took moments before he was able to get out and start running in different directions. slowly, you walked towards a vacant chair in the corner, eyes trained on the blue light racing around the room. you gripped the chair waiting for the right moment before launching it across the room and nailing pietro square in the back. you stalked towards his groaning figure grasping his shoulder and flipping him onto his back where you straddled him and punched at his face.

to pietro's relief, the doctor came back into the room beckoning an order to you. pietro watched from underneath your frame as your pupils twitched at him and your head robotically moved to face the doctor. you refrained from punching pietro anymore and stood up and walked to the doctor and the two guards who waited behind. one of the guards stabbed a needle into your neck and once more the world was black.

you couldn't even begin to guess what time or day it was when you finally woke up on the floor of your cell. your body was violently shaking from the cold and you started to panic. as much as you tried to think of any memories you couldn't, it was like your mind was a blank slate and it was causing you to panic even more which then turned into anger. you grabbed the small bed and threw it at the wall and screamed loudly. you repeatedly slammed your metal first into the wall causing dust to liter the air. guards walked past your cell but simply laughed and continued to make their way down the hall and off into the outside world.

"hey," a voice spoke unsteadily. you whipped your head around to the other wall and saw a face peeking through.

"it's okay," the man tried to ease seeing your angered state approaching him. you kneeled in front of the hole looking intensely at his face.

"who are you?"

this question confirmed pietro's fear that they wiped your memory. he had foolishly hoped that in the training room you were just too worn down to recognize him when he walked through the door before they sent you into your trance.

"my name is pietro. you may not remember but i am a friend," he spoke hoping to see any form of recollection cross your face. instead you examined him quietly before turning your head and examining the room. it was lit dully, your bed now turned on its side, and there was a tray of food sitting near the cell door that looked to be days old.

"this is a hydra base," pietro continued without you having to ask, "the people here are not good. they hurt us, they experiment on us, many people have died here. i have a sister here, a twin," he said pointing a finger behind him, "her name is wanda. they call us the enhanced. we both possess abilities no normal human would have due to their experimentations. we came as volunteers and i regret it."

"am i a volunteer?" you questioned.

"no, dragă. a few weeks ago you told me they found you during the winter, alone. you had been lost in the forest and they made promises to help you find home but you never returned. you said you aren't sure but you think it's been ten years since," pietro confessed, his accent thick with sorrow.

you hummed, unsure of what to say. you remembered none of this so what could you really say back? was pietro even telling the truth? how could you decipher fact from fiction in a state like this? despite the confusion and the absence of memory, something deep within you said it was all true, everything he was saying was right.

"why is my arm gone?" you whispered, slightly touching the contorting metal panels near the elbow.

pietro couldn't help but feel a pain in his chest as he observed you try and remember any semblance of yourself, "i- i don't know. what i do know is the doctors, they like you. you are very important to them and they make you do dirty work. the reason you can't remember anything is because they wipe your memory."

"i suppose that makes sense," you nodded slightly giving pietro a bitter smile.

"i am sorry for what they do to you," pietro stated earnestly. if he could help you in any way he would, over and over again, he would.

you paused, taking in pietro's face which held some serious injuries. the skin on his brow bone was split, his eye was bright red with blood and a nasty purple-green bruise on his jaw.

"did i do this to you?" you asked, slowly reaching your hand through to gently touch his jaw.

"of course you didn't my love," he murmured, tenderly grabbing your wrist and threading his fingers with yours.

"if there comes a time when i hurt you, please don't go easy on me," you pleaded.

"i cannot promise you that," he smiled at you softly, bringing his other hand to enclose your freezing one.

and pietro was being truthful. he couldn't nor he wouldn't harm you in the event the doctors forced you to fight. he would run and dodge the punches, and the chairs being thrown at him, but he couldn't fight you, he just couldn't. it pained him to see the different version of yourself, the real you locked inside begging to come out of the brainwashing.

pietro didn't think it would be so soon when he would be in the same position as before, standing across from you in the training room as the same doctor circled your body, reciting words in russian that would transform you into their super soldier. it was only hours after the two of you decided to sleep that pietro was ripped from his bed and dragged into the training room.

the doctor once again closed the notebook but before leaving he looked over at pietro, "it is a shame," he started with a thick russian accent, "her memory wiped twice in a week. i thought maybe you two would work well as a team. we could start sending you out on missions with her. but it seems she has developed a hm. what do you call it?" he fake pondered, "ah! a crush! and that is not something we take kindly here. she provides more to us here than you do so..." with that the doctor whispered one final thing in your ear before leaving.

pietro watched carefully as you headed towards him and at the last moment he sprinted away causing you to concave the metal door. you whipped your head around, eyes wide in anger, tracking the movements of the man. he was fast and this irritated you. sticking your leg out you managed to trip him at the last moment and his large frame hurled to the floor. you gripped his shirt in one hand and used your metal hand to punch him in the side of the face.

"it's me!" the man below you yelled. this had no effect on you and you raised your hand to hit him again but he grabbed your fist. the two of you violently struggled against each other before you used your hand clutched to his shirt to slide him away with great force.

"please i said i would never hurt you. it's me, pietro!" the man pleaded getting up to run past your approaching figure. for some reason hearing the name pietro caused a loud screeching pain in your head.

"what are you doing to my head?" you screamed, clutching your head in your hands, eyes screwed shut.

pietro stopped running and looked at your trembling figure, "i'm- i'm not doing anything."

you tried ignoring the high-pitched shrilling noise and stumbled to pietro. you grabbed onto his shoulders and pushed him backward against the wall. although you moved him with force pietro could feel the weakness in your grip this time. he stayed silent looking into your eyes that were frantically examining him.

"the noise..." you muttered bringing your metal hand to hold your head.

"there... there is no noise," pietro spoke confused. there was no noise in the room besides heavy breathing.

"who are you?" you probed shoving him roughly against the wall.

"it's me. pietro. i live next to you in the cell. i came here as a volunteer with my twin sister wanda. you are here against your will. they found you when you were little and never let you leave. they hurt you every day, they aren't good people. trust me, please. it's me your friend," pietro rushed hoping to break through to you.

he felt your grip slightly falter as you looked him up and down. he couldn't make out the emotion in your face as you screwed and unscrewed your features together, internally fighting yourself. he wasn't scared, but nervous rather for your next move or action.

as pietro spoke the high-pitched noise continued to grow louder causing severe pain in your head. it made you nauseous and your vision would cloud with blinding bright light. you hung your head gasping for air as a vague image of a cell came to memory. you tried blinking it away but it would reappear, this time you'd see a man. the man you were pushing against the wall. his head was peeking through the cell wall. instinctually you pressed him further into the wall, pietro's shoulder blades started to ache. a new memory came and it was pietro holding your hand, his thumb caressing yours.

you shot your head up looking at the man. your eyes were glossy with tears from the pain you were experiencing. not just the physical pain of the intense noise but the mental pain as you tried to piece together who he was. his appearance was becoming familiar. his clothes, his broad shoulders, the facial hair on his jaw and upper lip, the cut on his eyebrow, the dark roots of his hair and the silver ends, and his eyes.

you dropped your grip and pietro's eyes contorted in confusion.

"like the sky..." you murmured.

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Let It Snow

Pietro Maximoff x Reader

Fandom: MCU

Summary: When the power goes out at the Facility, Pietro makes sure you’re keeping warm.

Note: Takes place in an “Everybody is alive and lives at the Avengers Facility” AU. Wanted to kick out one more Christmas/Winter imagine before getting into the New Year’s stuff.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.5k

Reader Is: Gender Neutral, an Avenger.

To be honest, you didn’t notice it at first, the slight chill in the air. You continued your work, typing away on the loud, typewriter-style keyboard on the fancy, expensive computer Bruce had built for you (with Tony’s money, of course).

And then it got…worse.

Your toes were numb and you were shivering, despite the long sleeves you were wearing.

You slid your feet into some slippers and walked out into the hallway, arms huddled around yourself as you wandered from your room, down the hall to where the thermostat was. You gave the up button a cursory press, waiting for the screen to blink to life and tell you what it was set to, but it didn’t.

Huh. Well, that was something, wasn’t it?

“(Y/N). Hello.” Vision materialized beside you, causing you to jolt in shock. “My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine, Vision. Do you know what this is all about?” You asked, shivering and motioning to the busted thermostat.

“It appears the furnace is broken. Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner are attempting repairs now, but it may take quite some time.”

“Oh. Gotcha.” You nodded, “Thanks for the info.”

“Of course. I do recommend you bundle up. It seems your body temperature is steadily decreasing.”

“Will do.” You saluted and pivoted on your heel, just in time to catch a face full of Pietro as he sped down the hall, sliding to a stop.

You ever so gracefully fell on the floor, staring up at him, disgruntled. “Nice one, Sonic.”

He chuckled, offering a hand, but you got up on your own, dusting yourself off. “What is the problem?”

“Furnace is busted.” You explained, patting his arm as you began walking away.

Pietro started walking backwards, keeping pace with you. “Where are you going?”

“To get into something warmer. Might be a while.”

One of his eyebrows quirked up. “Well, you know, I’ve heard skin to skin contact is the fastest way to warm up, if you need some help with that. I do have ‘improved homeostasis,’ as Banner puts it.”

“I’m good, thanks.” You deadpanned, shutting your door in his face. You could feel him lingering there for a moment before running back down the hall to his room, you presumed. You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Pietro was a flirt. Always had been. But things like this never worked out with people like him. Not in your experience, at least.

You changed into a cozy, zip-up onesie, feeling a lot warmer than before, especially with the hood over your head. You got back to your tying for a while. A few hours at least…until the lights went out.

“Great!” You threw your hands up, rolling away from the desk in your dark room.

In a huff, you stood up and walked to your window. It was a blizzard out there, inches and inches of snow on the ground. There was a knock on the door and whirled around to answer it. Part of you expected it to be Pietro standing there, but instead, it was Steve with a flashlight.

“Oh, hey. Is this because of the blizzard?”

“No, Tony says he snipped the wrong wire.” Steve shook his head. “Or something. Might be a while before it gets fixed.”

It was already getting late, and you were planning on going to sleep soon, but now, you weren’t so sure you should if you didn’t want to wake up a popsicle. “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

You said, turning back to grab your phone and your water bottle to refill it before you figured out exactly what it was you should do in the meantime.

***

About an hour later, Pietro found you on the couch in the living room, shivering and reading a book by the light of a tiny, battery powered reading light. You were bundled up and, due to the lack of windows, you were pretty sure it was the warmest room in the facility. But as the temperature continued to drop, it didn’t seem to matter where you were.

“(Y/N), what are you doing in here?” He said, concern etched deep into his accented words. You met his eyes, wrought with worry and only offered a shaking shrug.

“I don’t want to g-go to sleep until the h-heat comes back on.”

He shook his head, crossing the room slowly for once, taking his time with each step. He sat beside you, not even bundled up beyond a hoodie and some sweatpants. For the first time in your life, you envied his powers. Carefully, giving you every opportunity to shove him off of you, he gently lifted your blanket, guided your book to the coffee table, and crawled on top of you, settling his body atop yours and sandwiching you between himself and the couch. He pulled the blanket back on top of the both of you, adjusting his head into the crook of your neck.

You were stiff at first, but at his warmth, you all but melted, eyes closing in bliss, your arms relaxing around him as you chased that feeling. His warmth. His scent, that sharp, woodsy cologne he was so infatuated with.

“Is this alright?” He asked, voice low and raspy.

You nodded, relaxing further into his hold, letting him warm you up. You pulled him closer, relishing in the feeling of your shivers slowly stopping. “Pietro…”

“I won’t say anything. The others don’t have to know.” He assured you, meeting your eyes before settling down again.

“I’m not too worried about that.” You whispered, suddenly overcome by it all. His proximity, his voice, the way his body felt melded against yours. It was right, what they said. Fitting like puzzle pieces.

“You’re not?” He asked, mischief at the edge of his tone. “Who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?”

You scoffed. “You know, contrary to popular belief, I don’t dislike you, Pietro.”

“I don’t dislike you either.” He replied with a chuckle. “Kind of the opposite, in fact.”

Your heart picked up a quicker rhythm, cheeks flushing. You were kind of thankful the two of you were cuddled up in the dark. You hoped nightvision wasn’t one of his secret powers, or you were sure you’d never see the end of it.

“Please say something.” He murmured at the silence.

“You…”

“I thought it was obvious.” He muttered, words quick, flat at the edges.

You let another moment pass, choosing your words.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to—”

You touched his face with a cold hand, guiding his chin so you could attempt to look him in the eyes in the silvery rays of light streaming in the window. “I like you, too.”

He grinned, breath catching in his throat. “You mean it?”

“I have for a while.” You confessed. ��Since that first training session when you bulldozed me on the track.”

“I did not bulldoze you!”

“I don’t know, I felt pretty bulldozed, laying there, flat on my back, feet knocked out from under me.”

He chuckled. “I was trying to impress you.”

“Mission accomplished.” You laughed at the way frustration crept into his words. “I could never forget about it. My very first week on the team and already, someone was out to get me.”

“Oh my God.” He rolled his eyes, the words sounding unsure on his tongue. He shook his head, gaze softening as he reached up, a careful hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Are you warmer now, drága?”

“Much.” You nodded, brushing the tip of your nose against his. “I do have another idea for warming up, though…”

He smirked. “Such as?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Please do.”

You rolled your eyes, and looped an arm around his neck, tugging him down to you and crushing your lips to his. He hummed in agreement, calloused fingers hooking your jaw, keeping you close as his kissed you tenderly, passionately, lips soft and perfect and experienced. He was the perfect distraction from the freezing room around you.

Then, suddenly, there was a loud thrum and the power kicked back on, bathing the room in light. You squinted, the appliances in the kitchen all beeping as they came back to life.

Pietro shielded his eyes with a hand, still hovering over you. You stared up at him for a long, quiet moment, still not entirely sure it had happened until he dipped back down and pressed a long kiss to your cheek, his stubble tickling your skin.

“Now let’s get you to bed, hmm?” He asked, helping you off of the couch as the facility gradually warmed back up. The two of you walked down the hall together and you yawned.

“What were you two doing down there?” Bucky asked, standing in his doorway. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I was just letting (Y/N) know the heat was back on.” Pietro shrugged. “I am the quickest, you know.”

“Uh-huh. Right.” Bucky nodded, suspicious, but backing away into his room anyway.

You got to your door and stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Pietro. His hand grabbed at your waist, tugging you in for a kiss that you gladly returned. When you parted, you watched him speed down the hall, hoping that when you woke, it wouldn’t all be some sweet, winter dream.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

I GOT SO EXCITED WHEN YOU OPENED YOUR REQUESTS!!! can i request a pietro fic where him and the reader are both avengers and they are best friends, but the reader has the biggest crush on him (she manages how to hide well) and they get assigned to a mission in hawaii and have to pretend that they're married and are there for their honeymoon? and that pretending to be the reader's husband and doing everything together like a couple made pietro realize that he also had feelings for her. one day they both go to a restaurant and have some drinks and he builds enough courage to finally kiss her (in the rain😼)

(i know it's cheesy but i just love the idea😭😭 and also, sorry if there's any mistakes, english isn't my first language hahah)

hii!! omg I love this and cheesy things hehe!! and don’t worry, your english was great! apologies, I had a nightmare writing this, I finished writing it then went to edit the next day to find chunks of my paragraphs were missing :(( but thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

—

fake dating

pietro maximoff x fem!reader

word count: 811

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

As you and Pietro are the two youngest members on the team -with the exception of Peter- you were often paired together for lots of missions. Being best friends had its perks, especially for trips away where it was just the two of you. 

You were both assigned to Hawaii to "collect intel", as Cap lightly put it. The pair of you undercover: smitten newlyweds on your honeymoon. Usually, you weren't a fan of these kinds of aliases, but this was different- it was with Pietro.

It allowed you to tap into your true and hidden romantic feelings towards him without over-complicating everything. Fake dating was like a compromise to you. It felt like it gave you a brief chance to date him without the consequence of doing the real thing.

The moment you boarded the plane, the mission began, and you were all over Pietro- leaning into him and stroking his arm, giggling at his jokes and sharing stories with the elderly lady beside you. 

It all felt natural, and you didn't know where to draw the line. You admit you may have gotten a little carried away, but you couldn't help it- it just felt so right to date Pietro, like you could finally be your true self without keeping a part of you locked away. 

The first several days of the trip went smoothly, completing all tasks assigned within the first few hours of the day, leaving you both together for many hours doing touristy things.

Each day was slightly different- snorkelling in the ocean for one and eating lunch with the locals for another. You both wanted to make the most of your 'vacation,' so you chose activities you couldn't do anywhere else, nor would you have time for otherwise.

As the days progressed, so did things with you and Pietro. You would find yourselves flirting and touching with no one around- no one to prove things to. He grew more comfortable being romantic with you, a lingering touch to your hand or a soft smile when you speak- just small and possibly inconsequential moments that felt too sincere to be fake.

Today was the last night of the trip before heading home in the morning, so you and Pietro decided to have dinner at your favourite quaint restaurant on the beach, much like a final farewell to the town you both grew to adore. 

Everything was perfect- the scenery, the food, the company, even. It was the best end to an already great trip. 

By now, you were on your final course of the night, sharing a desert as you chatted in your usual friendly way. 

You sit up straight, pointing the spoon at him. "You suit it,"

His head cocks to the side, evidently confused. "Suit, what?"

"Y'know... the sun— being away. You seem happy," you smile, placing your spoon aside. "Haven't seen you like it for a while." You shrug, glancing out into the ocean to avoid his fixed gaze.

"I do?" he grins, pointing the spoon at you like you did him. "Same with you... it's nice to see."

"Maybe it's the company," your smile widens, turning back to face him.

He chuckles, itching his foot closer to yours under the table, slyly bumping into it. "Maybe."

After dinner and more drinks, you find your tipsy selves on the beach, sitting in the sand, huddled together under a blanket to keep warm. Pietro's arm draped over your shoulder, holding you close to him as you look out into the ocean. It all felt so familiar, like second nature- as if this was how it should be between you. 

Sure, you've cuddled like this many times before, but this was not like those times- this was different. It was intimate- sincere. Pietro pulls away, glancing over your face as a gentle smile forms, watching the way yours mirrors his. 

"Looks like it's gonna rain," you divert, suddenly aware of how real this all feels between you. 

He hums weakly, his smile faltering as he slowly leans towards you, his low gaze focused on your lips. 

"Might storm," you whisper, adding.

"Mh-hm," he softly replies, almost as if he wasn't paying attention. He slips his hand up to cup the side of your face, his palm resting on your jaw, guiding you closer. 

"It might—"

He cuts you off with a small shush, quietening your blabbering mind before brushing his lips over yours, kissing you soft and sweetly. It felt like months of repressed longing poured into a single, beautiful moment. A moment you've long been yearning for.

As you pull away from one another, you wish you could stay here forever. Stay in paradise. 

But as much as you hated to think about it, you'd be leaving tomorrow, and all you could think about was how things would be when you go back home. 

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

pietro taglist: @astermath @thewinterv @earth-elemental18 @lunnnix @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @randomawesomeperson102 @queerponcho @selfryed @daenerys-supremacy @dontknownameauthor @mrsbarnesxxx @honestly-who-even-is-this @simplyreflected

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Kinktober Day 10: Pietro Maximoff- Praise Kink

Note: let’s just do Kinktober all the way into the new year 🙌🏻😂

Summary: training with Pietro is nice when he tells you how good you’re doing 😉

Word count: 1, 364 words

Pietro loved to tease and was a complete flirt. He loved finding ways to make people blush, even if he wasn’t necessarily wanting to sleep with them, he just thought it was cute and honestly fun. Once he found out what made you blush there was no stopping him.

You were relatively new to the team and like him and his sister you had powers you were learning to properly control. You didn’t think you were improving and were convinced you’d done terribly at training, that was until a certain speedster had said otherwise.

Stark and Rogers had teamed you two up for training, since Pietro had more control of his powers he could help you with yours. Sitting outside with Pietro beside you, you focused on the small bowl of water in front of you. Breathing smoothly you managed to make it move, nice and smoothly and beautiful. Your moment of pride was soon diminished however when the water crashed down and splashed into your face.

“It’s okay, printsessa, you’re doing well. I’m proud of how far you’ve come.” Pietro encouraged with a hand on your shoulder.

Seeing the blush creep up on your cheeks and the way you stutter out a ‘thank you’ makes Pietro smirk. Slowly his hand reaches your other shoulder and he leans in the whisper in your ear.

“Do you like when I tell you how good you’ve done, Printsessa?” The way he whispers in your ear makes you feel all warm inside and you begin to squirm.

“Yes.” You reply with a half sigh, half moan as he begins to kiss and nip at the delicate skin on your neck.

“Do you want to be a good girl for me?” He now asks, both hands on your face, making you look intensely into his eyes.

The mood of the afternoon shifted so quickly you weren’t sure it was real. For a moment you couldn’t reply, your eyes just darting from his eyes to his lips.

“Yes, I want to be your good girl.” You almost plead with a moan.

“You’re such a good girl.” He chuckles, leaning forward and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. One hand now around your neck and the other is tangled in your hair, all you could do was grab onto his shirt as tight as you could.

The kiss was so full of passion and desire that you just let him lead, being a slave to the passion of the kiss. Breaking the kiss a little early for your liking you look up at him with big doe eyes, pleading for him to continue.

“Be a good girl for me. Go up to my room, take off your clothes and touch yourself, I’ll be there soon.” He orders you, never breaking his intense stare.

Once he lets you go you race as fast as you can back to the compound, leaving a chucking and pining Pietro behind.

******

Walking through the door of his bedroom he finds you exactly how he told you to be. As soon as you heard the bedroom door open your eyes shot open but your fingers on your clit don’t slow down.

“Mmmhmm, now that’s a pretty site, Printsessa.” Pietro praises as he slowly saunters over to you, his eyes raking all over your body.

Despite his powers of super speed the way he took off his clothes was anything but. He took his sweet time removing each item of his clothes, while controlling your movements with just a raise of his eye brow or a tut every time you went too fast. Watching him undress so slowly and controlling the way you pleasured yourself was torture.

Your skin was prickling with need and your moans were absolutely desperate by the time he was completely naked. When you finally saw his cock you couldn’t help but speed up your movements and your eyes grow wide with need.

Finally using his speed, he raced over to you, quickly kneeing between your split legs. He ripped your hands away from pussy and held them both over your head with one big hand, earning him a desperate moan. With the other hand he begins to lightly trace down your body, so slowly and so lightly with just the tips of his fingers.

“You’re so beautiful like this, all spread out and needing. Such a pretty girl.” He taunts, his finger tip lightly tracing around your clit, making you give out another desperate whine.

Slowly he removes his fingers to take a hold of his cock, slowly lining it up with your entrance. At the feel of him so close to you, you lightly grind against him.

“Ah ah, be a good girl for me. You’ve been so good so far, come on, darling, keep being my good little girl. Good girls gets my cock, is that what you want?” He asks as he teasingly rubs his cock from your clit all the way down your entrance and back again. Biting his lip he watches your reaction so intensely.

“Yes! I want your cock! Please I’ll be a good girl!” You desperately whine out.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe i need a little convincing. You gonna beg for me, Printsessa?” He taunts you with his low and dominating voice, his accent dripping over his words like honey.

“Please, Pietro! Please give me your cock! I’ve been a good girl! Please I need yo-“ before you can continue your desperate pleads he slams is cock into you. Taking the air right out of your lungs as the pure force of the act shoves your head back.

Once the air comes back to you he’s already fucking you into the mattress and you let out a loud animalistic moan. Now releasing your hands from above your head he’s grabbed a hold of both your hips and is shoving you down onto him while he fucks into you.

“Oh fuck! You’ve got such a tight fucking pussy! Oh fuck, baby! You feel so fucking good.” He growls out, eyes never leaving your pussy, amazed at the way his cock goes in and out of you.

You let out another desperate moan, taking him out of his trance and making his eyes shoot back up to you. Seeing how big your eyes have gotten and the desperate look in them makes him growl. Taking one of his hands away from your hips he puts 2 fingers into your mouth, giving you something to suck on.

“Oh what a good girl, taking my cock so good and sucking my fingers like a good little slut. Is that how you’d suck my cock, baby?” He asks, pushing his fingers further into your mouth, making you gag a little.

Your eyes begin to well with tears from how hard he’s fucking you and the way his fingers are plunging into your mouth. Taking his fingers out of your mouth they come down onto your clit, rubbing as fast as his thrusts are. With this new added pressure you can’t help but let out a loud moan and mumbled pleads.

“Come on, Printsessa, cum on my cock. Come on, baby. Be a good girl and scream my name.” He growls out, rubbing and fucking you harder.

“Oh fuck, Pietro!” You scream out in ecstasy as your head flys back.

Barely having enough time to come down from your mind blowing orgasm and Pietro has already flipped you over and filled you with his cock again. Already so drunk off his cock and power, your body almost goes limp, just enough energy to keep your legs bent and your ass out.

Grabbing onto your hips he fucks into you even faster then before. It only takes a few fast strokes before he lets out his own scream and he’s filling you up, grabbing onto your hips with a few more hard thrusts.

Hearing his breath even out you feel him lightly slap and grab at both of your cheeks before he scoops you into his arms, both of you catching your breaths.

“Such a good girl.” He tells you as he holds you tightly and kisses your forehead.

[smuttyfantasyrecs]

Pietro Maximoff

🦋 is that my shirt 🦋 jealousy 🦋

@nyctophicbtch

🦋 sleepy sex 🦋

@psychedelic-ink

🦋 you're mine 🦋

@babylonhockey

🦋 sokovian vodka 🦋

@acciopietro

[madsisart]

Going to the beach at night with Pietro hcs pls <33

this idea is so cute hello where is my pietro😓

warnings: the word “fuck” like once, fluff!!!

going to the beach at night with Pietro would include…

omg ok so to set the scene!!

he was planning it kind of like a picnic but with more activities

and by more activities i mean like swimming lol

very dangerous especially at night but danger is almost like his middle name LMFAOO

he packs your favorite foods ofc

and a few of his favorites

he would carry it

and you on his back😭

it’s slightly chilly out because its only the beginning of summer and it’s night time so you two wear sweats over your bathing suits

you two would set up all of your stuff when you arrive

and when he takes off his sweats….

you were obviously not disappointed

eating and having fun in each other’s companies!!

you both having laughing fits because why wouldn’t you, you’re with each other!!

going on walks around the beach after you eattt

then swimming

he will try to scare you and then “protect” you💀

he’s something else i stg

splashing each other

attempting to kiss underwater😭

him again, scaring you but featuring seaweed

the seaweed was a paid actor ofc

you get him back so good too

“ah, fuck!” he swears out, glaring at you as if he didn’t just do the same thing LMAOO

hope you enjoyed!!

[teenage-idiot]

In the Blink of an Eye - 18

Avengers Age of Ultron | Quicksilver x Female Reader Fan-fiction.

*WARNING SPOILERS*

Contains strong language, sexual references and mentions of death.

2743 words

CHAPTER 18

The next morning I was jolted awake by a rapid succession of thumps on my door. 

“Rise and shine y/n, Stark wants us in the briefing room in 10 minutes,” Clint yelled through the door.

“M’kay,” I managed to shout back, eyes full of sleep and still groggy from my deep slumber. 

A heavy arm snaked tighter around my waist as a pair of lips ghosted along my jawline, “Five more minutes,” Pietro whined as he nuzzled his face further into the crook of my neck.

“Come on you big baby it’s time to get up,” I teased, untangling myself from his limbs as I attempted to haul myself out of bed. As tempting as it was to lay in bed with Pietro for five more minutes, I knew that in reality if I laid in bed any longer I most likely wouldn’t get up at all. In any case, if Tony had called a meeting then maybe he and the others had finally finished assessing the files we managed to snatch from Hydra.

After hastily brushing my teeth, throwing on some clean clothes and somehow managing to wrestle Pietro out of bed, we both made it downstairs in time for the meeting, hurrying in behind Thor as he held the door for us to follow in after him. Everyone gathered around the large table in the centre of the briefing room as Steve pressed his knuckles to the table top and leant forward to address us all. 

“Okay, so as you all know, we’ve spent the past few days assessing the intel we gathered the other night, and well – the files are interesting to say the least,” Steve pressed himself back up off of the table and folded his arms over his chest before continuing, “As we mentioned before, the files listed a number of high profile Hydra members that we didn’t know about previously, but they also contained a large amount of information regarding their upcoming plans, which – included you, y/n.”

He looked directly at me as he said this, everyone else in the room collectively turning their heads to look at me as well. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks from having all the attention diverted towards myself. I thought I was just some crude experiment, but to learn that Hydra had bigger plans for me was a chilling thought.

“The files provided a rather useful insight into how exactly your powers work, using the power of the moon – as you told us previously – but also the fact that the strength of your abilities increases and decreases with the waxing and waning of the moon, meaning that you’ll be weakest during a new moon and at your most powerful during the full moon,” Tony finished his explanation and took a quick glance around the room, eyes finally coming to land on me once more.

“I – I had no idea,” I stuttered, lost for words at this ground-breaking revelation as to how my powers worked. 

“I’m afraid that’s not all,” Vision began, “Hydra were planning a targeted attack on our base, here, in two weeks’ time, during the full moon.”

“They were planning to use you as a weapon,” Bruce summarised.

I had of course worked out for myself that whatever Hydra wanted with me could not have been anything good, however I never thought that they would use me for something so extreme, so severe. 

“I’m willing to bet your escape threw a bit of a spanner in the works though,” Tony remarked, stepping back to perch himself on the edge of the desk positioned just behind him.

“Exactly, without you they can’t go through with their original plan,” Steve announced, continuing with Tony’s line of thinking before gesturing to himself, Tony, Vision and Bruce as he resumed his speech, “Now, the four of us have been talking, and we think we’ve come up with a reasonable plan – “

“How reasonable?” Natasha interjected, quirking an eyebrow. She, as well as the rest of us, was no stranger to one of the many not-so-straightforward plans thought up by the self-appointed leaders of the group.

“Reasonable enough,” Tony answered, displaying an expression that wasn’t entirely reassuring to the group but that no one objected to nonetheless.

Steve spared a glance at Tony and then took this as his cue to carry on explaining the plan they’d come up with, “The full moon is two weeks away – I suggest we use their own plan against them and orchestrate an ambush to take place during the full moon and take out the Hydra base listed in the file.”

“So where exactly is this base?” enquired Thor.

“Montauk, hidden within the cliff underneath the lighthouse,” Steve replied, “Now, like I mentioned before, we’re planning to carry out this ambush on the night of the full moon; if we’re gonna pull this off, we’ll need everyone to be at their best, which means we also need your powers to be at their strongest, y/n. That way we’ll have our best chance at defeating Hydra and shutting this base down once and for all.”

I began to panic slightly at this, “The full moon is only two weeks away, I don’t know if I – ” 

“You’ll be ready, we’ll make sure of it,” Nat reasuured me, giving me a soft pat on the shoulder as she did so.

I looked around the room to see everyone giving gentle smiles and nods of encouragement. Despite the fear of not being strong enough niggling at the back of my mind, I knew I had to set that aside and just focus on training and improving my powers so that I would be able to support and protect my team to the best of my ability. After all, that’s what we were, a team; a team that I was now fully part of. Determination set in and I was ready to start refining my powers as soon as possible.  

“In order to fully embrace your abilities moving forward, I think it’s best you start to practice using your powers at night, when the moon is out in full force,” said Steve, “that way you can get used to the influence the lunar cycle has on your powers and how it can enhance them.”

“I can help you with that,” Vision spoke, a warm smile gracing itself across his features. 

“Thank you,” I smiled back, “thank you, all of you. I promise I will try my absolute best, and in two weeks’ time, I’ll be ready to kick some Hydra butt.” 

“That’s the spirit,” Thor chuckled, raising his fist in support at the notion of well and truly kicking Hydra’s ass.

“Well, we’re gonna come up with a more thorough plan of attack for the mission ahead, but as for right now, that’s all we’ve got,” Steve concluded the meeting, signalling that we were free to leave and get on with our respective training and preparation for the upcoming mission.

The next few days were really tough. Not only was I still doing all of my regular training activities during the day, I was also training nightly with Vision as well. Every evening, after dinner, we would both venture outside so that I could practice using my powers in the moonlight in the hopes of getting stronger and becoming more powerful. However, the progress so far was extremely slow going. I couldn’t help but feel like this didn’t bode well for the upcoming mission and subsequent deadline that was now looming over me and filling me with a sense of dread.

“Try again,” Vision spoke calmly, trying to ease my evident frustration.

I let out an exasperated sigh and attempted to move the pile of saturated tree trunks once more. I raised my arms, took a deep breath, and began to raise the pile up off of the ground at a painfully slow speed. Sure, I had moved tree trunks before, I had moved people before; I had even moved multiple people at once – but I had never moved such a sheer quantity of objects at the same time before. I tried to concentrate, a few beads of sweat slowly gathering along my brow as I strained against the weight of the tree trunks. I closed my eyes for a second as I attempted to gather my thoughts. 

“You can do this,” Vision’s voice chimed in my ear, “Dig deep within yourself and find your power within.”

Suddenly I found myself thinking of all the things Hydra had done to me, the pain and torment they’d put me through for years. The mental trauma that would never go away, that would stick with me until my dying breath. In one swift motion, my eyes snapped open and I hurled the pile of tree trunks across the open field, a cry escaping from my lips as I did so. They landed in a chaotic heap on the opposite side of the field, creating a rather forceful cacophony of thumps as they did so. 

I collapsed onto the grass, limbs stretched out like a starfish as I lay on my back trying to catch my breath.

“Nicely done,” Vision smirked, seemingly impressed at my efforts, “I think we shall leave it there for today. Good work y/n.”

I couldn’t manage a reply, too exhausted from the physical and mental strain I’d just subjected myself to. Instead I just gave a thumbs up from my current position on the grass before Vision let out a slight chuckle and began making his way back inside. I lay there for a while by myself, thoughts circling round and around my head as I thought about everything I’d been through and dealt with up until this point, everything that had led me to where I was – who I was right now.

“Training was that bad huh?” Pietro was standing over me, looking down at my exhausted form with a quirked eyebrow.

“You have no idea,” I answered flatly.

He let out a light-hearted laugh as he crouched down and laid himself next to me on the soft grass. For a few moments we both just laid there in silence staring up at the night sky, stars twinkling as the pale light of the moon shone down on us. 

“What’s on your mind?” Pietro queried, concern etching his features as his hand came up to brush against my own.

I let out a sigh I didn’t realise I’d been holding in, lips parting as I tried to put my complex thoughts into words.

“While I was training just now, with Vision, it – it brought back some memories from when I was being held captive by Hydra. I think it was about a year after they first took me from my home – they had brought my parents to the facility where I was being kept. I always assumed they had killed them the night they kidnapped me, but there they were, standing right in front of me. I remember, they were both crying; they thought I was dead too – honestly it probably would’ve been better for both them and me if I had been,” a hollow laugh escaped my lips; I kept my gaze on the sky as I spoke, too scared to look at Pietro as I relived the horror of my memories, “They told me that I would be free to leave and go home if I did what they asked, if I – if I used my powers to…to kill one of my parents.”

A single tear rolled down the side of my face as I closed my eyes and took in a shaky breath. I could feel Pietro’s thumb stroking the back of my hand as he waited patiently for me to continue. 

“I couldn’t do it, of course. I – I wouldn’t. So instead, one of the guards…he took out a gun, and he shot both my parents right in front of me. I felt helpless, I had these powers they’d cursed me with but had no idea how to use them properly – it wasn’t until they killed my parents right in front of my eyes that something in me snapped and I…I felt this surge of power and rage surface from deep within me. The next thing I knew there were two dead guards on the floor and I was being sedated. I killed them, Pietro – not just those guards, but my parents as well. It was my fault.”

The tears were flowing freely by now as I maintained my gaze on the sky, fear of judgement and unbelievable sadness overcoming me. I had never told anybody this before. I had tried so hard to bury my trauma and leave it in the past, but of course that never worked, and I remained haunted by my guilt and the image of my dead parents.  

“It’s only now looking back that I realise they were trying to test the strength of my powers during the full moon. Then tonight, with Vision, I hadn’t felt a surge of power like that since that night, all that anger and raw emotion bubbling up to the surface. I think by pushing those memories down I’d been supressing my powers, and I’m afraid that if I start tapping into those emotions that I won’t be able to control the effect it has. I’m scared that my powers are going to end up hurting people rather than helping them.” 

“I’m so sorry y/n,” Pietro began slowly, uncertain of what to say next, “I can’t imagine the pain caused by the things you’ve had to go through. I know that none of it was your fault though. Not what happened to you, not what they put you through, and certainly not your parents deaths. As for you hurting people with your powers – I think I know you pretty well by now, and I can say with confidence that you would never use your powers to hurt anyone.”

“But what if I can’t control them?” I breathed out rapidly.

“You will learn to, and I’ll be there every step of the way to support you and help wherever I can,” Pietro reassured as he held my small hand in his larger one. “You know, Wanda and I weren’t always fighting on the same side as the Avengers…”

I chanced a look at him as he said this, confused as to what exactly he meant.

“Remember that crazy robot I mentioned before, Ultron? Well originally Wanda and I were working with him, against the Avengers. He convinced Wanda and I that what he was doing was for good reason, and after years of manipulation and brain-washing at the hands of Hydra, we believed him. However, after realising that what he was planning wasn’t what we had first thought, we changed sides and started working with everyone here to stop Ultron’s plan. My point is, we may have done some bad things, or things we regret. We may have hurt people, even – but it’s never too late to change. It’s never too late to choose to do good.”

All I could do was look at him with a puzzled expression. I had never once suspected that at one point in time he and Wanda had been working against the Avengers. I gazed at him a moment longer, gaze flickering between his eyes for any trace of insincerity – of which there was none. I brought my hand up steadily to rest against the side of his face. We were both lying on our sides, facing each other now. Ever so slowly, our faces inched closer to one another, until our lips were mere millimetres apart, noses brushing against each other cautiously. I took in another breath before connecting my lips with his. They were soft and sweet, the kiss slow and delicate as if we were both made of glass, fearful that one of us might break under the slightest pressure. 

Eventually we both pulled away, looking into each other’s eyes as we just lay there. We had both spilled the secrets of our past and accepted one another nonetheless. Being with Pietro made me feel hopeful, like I could do good and not be plagued by my past – destined to live out a life of destruction and misery. 

“Let’s head inside,” he spoke softly, lifting his hand from my waist up to my face to wipe away my tears.

“Okay,” I whispered. 

-

a/n - well chapter 18 is up finally! sorry it was a bit of a wait between me posting the last chapter and this one, i'm gonna try and stick to a more regular posting schedule from now on. this chapter is a little longer than all the others i've posted, and i'm gonna try and keep them a bit longer as well going forward. anyways sorry for the waffle and hope you enjoy the new chapter!

- t

[thatboisus]

yall ever read a fanfic so majestic it completely altered your entire life

[dinogoofymutated]

Jealousy headcannons! Multi/GN!Reader - Cable, Gambit, Nightcrawler, Quicksilver. Ok I know this wasn't on the schedule butttt Yeahhhh. Cable is going to have an extended version of his fic, and I might do the same for the others but no promises! Also I know that Cable's written half is literally just the snippet I shared with some minor edits but bear with me please his stuff is in the works!!! TWs: Jelousy. Barfights. No violence on Reader but men are creepy. Mentions of sex work. Cable and gambit make public spectacles it's just what they do. The return of wolverine and the X-men Pietro bc I love him

Cable

Look, any man who comes over to flirt with you after you walk in with a legit wall of muscle has to be either stupid or blind.

Cable is by no means a very jealous man. He's not gonna care if a man (or woman) approaches you and starts up a conversation. He might get a little frustrated if they start flirting with you, but he trusts you. He knows you can take care of yourself and he doesn't want you to feel like he's got you on a leash.

But when someone is being persistent, not taking no for an answer, and hell, putting their hands on you? He doesn't take it too well. He's more of an overprotective type when it comes to his flavor of jealousy.

    “That beer for me, Beautiful?” The voice of a stranger cuts through your thoughts, and to be honest, you don’t even think he’s talking to you until you realize how close to you he is. He’s sat on the barstool next to you, leaning towards you like he can’t quite catch his balance. You make a face at him, nonchalantly moving Cable’s beer closer.

    “Last time I checked it wasn’t.” You say curtly. The man has a smile hiding behind his pout as he leans a little closer to you, oblivious to the way you casually recoil from him.

    “Oh c'mon, don’t play hard to get. I’m chill!” You can tell this guy is most definitely drunk, and you find yourself trying not to roll your eyes at him. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was in.

    “Sure you are. But believe me, my Husband is not.” You tell him. You're not married, but to be honest, you knew this guy wasn't going to leave you be if you left him with some vague label. Didn't matter anyway, however, the stranger laughs in your face, and his breath smells like alcohol and cheap cigarettes, a nasty combo that repulses you. You point back at the corner booth where the cable was sitting just a few minutes before, hoping that he’d at least back off at the sight of the six-foot hunk of muscle you call a lover. Unfortunately, He doesn't. 

    “What Husband?” The man says mockingly, and when you look at the booth you find yourself pointing at an empty seat. The sight lights a small flicker of anxiety in you, and your face falls as the man sets a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. It’s not there for long before the weight suddenly disappears. You snap your head around, feeling relief when you see the man’s wrist caught in Cable’s literal iron-clad grip. 

    “This Husband.” Cable grunts.

    All of the blood drains from the stranger’s face in an instant, but it doesn’t take long for the attitude to come back. He tries to yank his arm out of Cable’s grip, but Cable’s arm doesn’t move an inch. To be honest, the sight kinda made you blush a little. Sure, you had seen Cable’s strength many times, but this… well. This was different. The guy starts to yank a little more aggressively, and all Cable has to do is clench his hand for the asshole to yelp and give up. You set a placating hand on his shoulder, and Cable glances back at you. His gaze softens, and he sighs before letting the guy go.

    “What’s your problem, man?” The stranger spits as he holds his bruised wrist. You had already gathered your things and were getting ready to get the hell outta dodge, giving Cable’s shoulder a hard pat as you desperately tried to keep him from getting in a barfight. Cable ignores the guy, walking close behind you as you start to walk away.

    “ -s’ an ugly bitch, anyway.” The stranger mumbles under his breath, but not nearly as quiet as he should’ve. Cable stops in his tracks, wheels around, and slugs the guy with his left arm. There's a sickening crunch and the bar goes silent as the drunken stranger is violently knocked from his seat. Your first instinct is to scold Cable, but the guy had it coming anyway. You look around, and with every eye in the bar squarely on you and Cable, you decide you’ve definitely stayed past your welcome.

Gambit

Gambit is probably the most jealous man in this lineup. Again, He will get fidgety and somewhat aggressive when someone approaches you and begins to flirt, but he trusts you. He doesn't want you to think he doesn't, and as a result, he tends to grit his teeth and bite his tongue to keep himself in check.

There's definitely a very, very thin line in between "I don't want to be overbearing" Remy and "This guy needs to take the fucking hint" Remy.

He's mostly fine with drunk bastards, He thinks they're funny, and as long as they're not bothering you for the most part he'll keep the aggression to a minimum. -But the one thing he absolutely cannot stand is snobby pricks who think they can steal you from him because he's a "swamp rat."

"It's a shame to see such a lovely creature like you standing here all alone." You try not to roll your eyes at the man that approaches you. You and Remy were supposed to have a nice, romantic night out. It was your anniversary, and Remy had told you that he wanted to pull out all the stops for this one. Unfortunately, fate wasn't on either of your sides today. The X-men needed Gambit, and you told him that the plans can wait for another time. Remy, in a very gambit fashion, told you to dress up anyway and he bet he would meet you there. Definitely a rather High-stakes gamble, but you loved him, so you said you'd hold him to it.

Unfortunately for you, it looked like the restaurant was hosting an event at the bar for what looked like a rather stuffy- sorry, High-end law firm. You had been content with waiting for Remy, even if the waitress clearly looked convinced he was standing you up. You had ordered something to drink while you waited, and caught the wrong kind of attention during your trip to the bar.

"I'm not alone, I'm waiting for someone." You say, flashing him an annoyed smile. He smiles back in a smartass kind of way, flashing you his Rolex as he pushes up his glasses. Great. He thinks you're a sugar baby- or maybe a sex worker. Either way, you really wished he was anywhere but here.

"Right. I'll be honest with you, I know you've been waiting here for what- and hour now? Hour and a half? Any guy that leaves you here for that long is not worth your time, sweetheart." You cringe at the nickname, but he clearly can't seem to tell. At this point, you start debating your options. You could run to the bathroom, but there weren't any windows you could crawl out of and he could wait at the door for you to come out. You could try to leave, but you didn't want Remy to think that you left him hanging. It's probably best if you stay and wait for him, but man was this guy getting on your nerves.

"Again, I'm waiting on someone. I'm choosing to wait on him, and frankly, I'm not interested in you." You say bluntly, getting more and more aggravated. The man only smirks at you.

"You're certainly a fiesty one. Don't worry, I like it when they play hard to get." He sends you wink that makes you want to sock him, and to be honest, you start to think about it. The bell at the door of the restaurant dings, and you glance over, face breaking out in a smile at the sight of the man you had been waiting on.

Remy was still in his x-men suit, obviously having come fresh from the fight. He's got some dirt on his face, and his hair is a little messier than normal, but you had never been so happy to see him.

"Well, don't you clean up well." You joke as Remy walks to your table. He chuckles, barely sparing the other man a side-eye before picking up your hand to kiss it.

"Sorry, Chère. Originally, I planned on changin', but I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you here for another moment." Remy's fond gaze turns into a bit of a glare when he finally looks over at the gobsmacked man across the table from you. "I see you've made a new friend?" You roll your eyes at that, shaking your head. Remy gets the message.

There's a gasp from the other patrons of the restaurant, as the sound the contact made was rather loud. There's already a red mark forming on the mans face as you take Remy by the hand and begin to lead him out of the restaurant. Remy is looking at you like he'd fallen in love with you all over again.

"You've been waiting all this time for some Cajun freak?" The man blurts out, finally having found his words.

"Watch it, Mon ami." Remy's shoulders tense as he snarls at the prick. You stand up, giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze before you walk in front of the man. The side of his mouth slightly upturns as you do so, right before you slap the everloving shit out of him.

"I know you really wanted for us to eat here, honey, but to be honest? I like your cooking better anyway."

Nightcrawler

Kurt? Jealous???

Absolutely. He absolutely gets jealous. Kurt is much more of a "cat" kind of jealous than a Guard Dog kind of jealous though. He's not going to do anything crazy like punch anyone, but he's gonna brush up against you, slide his tail around your waist, hold your hand. He wants reassurance from you more than he is angered by whoever is flirting with you.

That's not to say he's not angry. He doesn't like the way some people look at you like a piece of meat instead of the intelligent, beautiful person you are, and he's not afraid to call people out on it.

Kurt knew that the guy you were talking to right now was only stopping to ask you for directions, but he really didn't like how close to you the guy was. Kurt had gone off to get you something to eat from the street food vendor nearby, telling you to just relax and he would be back soon.

When he returned with food in hand, it was obvious to him what was happening, but he still couldn't help but frown. The man is leaning into your space as he shows you the map in his hands. It's fine. There was obviously nothing really going on, the stranger must have been simply touchy. He then watches as the man sets a hand on the back of your waist to point at a building up ahead, and Kurt's mind quickly changes.

Obviously, you had stepped out of the stranger's reach quickly, uncomfortable with the action, but Kurt still slinked up to your side like a cat, pulling you close with his tail as he hands you your food, resting his newly freed hand behind your back.

"There you are, Meine Liebe. I hope you didn't wait for too long." Kurt says sweetly, giving you a grin. You smile back at him, thanking him for the food. You felt relieved to see him. Sure, the stranger that had been speaking to you seemed to be a nice man, but there was a certain amount of comfort and security Kurt provided when he was near you. Kurt makes a show of leaning in and kissing you on the cheek that makes you giggle. The stranger clears his throat after a quick moment.

"-Sorry if I interrupted your date. I appreciate the directions!" He says quickly, face flushed red from embarresment.

"You're perfectly fine! I hope you're able to find what you're looking for alright." You respond sweetly, waving as the man walks off. Kurt is pouting again when you look at him, tail still wrapped comfortably around you. You can't help but giggle.

"You're so jealous." You laugh. Kurt gives you an innocent look as he brushes off the accusation.

"Whaaat? No. Ich habe dich vermisst. That is all!"

Quicksilver

I'm not even gonna lie the fic half of this is just part of that enemies to lovers hcs that I wrote

anyway!!

Pietro is a very pouty, bratty kind of Jealous.

Like sure he trusts you and all but you actually looked at someone else while they were speaking to you? >:[ Don't look at them. Look at him. Smile at him not them. You're laughing at something they said? Well, he's funnier than them!!

He's just, so pouty over the smallest, pettiest things. He just needs a smooch on the forehead and some reassurance and also possibly cuddles, and he'll be fine. God he's such a brat ILHSM

However, If someone is actually flirting with you or going too far and making you uncomfortable, he will in fact throw hands. Or do his speedster thing and find a way to embarrass them, like pantsing them or planting something embarrassing on them. One time he snatched a guy's cell and called his wife before planting it in the man's pocket so she could hear all the flirting he was doing. Now that was fun.

"So I heard you had dinner with the wolfie guy tonight." The sound of Pietro's voice makes you yelp in surprise. You whirl around to see him leaning against the wall of your room, arms crossed. You scoff, and pick a pillow off of your bed to chuck it at him. He catches it easily.

"His name is Logan, and No. Not really. All we did was happen to sit next to each other at dinner." You turn back around to sit at your vanity, but Pietro is already there, sitting on the stool with the pink pillow tucked into his arms.

"So you did have dinner with him?" He pouts. You roll your eyes at him, holding back a laugh as you shove him off the seat. He looses his balance for less than a second before there's a gust and he's sitting cross-legged on your bed, having tossed the pillow to the side.

"What does it matter to you, anyway? You're not even supposed to be here, Pietro." You tease as you sit down, unable to keep yourself from smiling. You comb through your hair as you ready yourself for bed, still grinning like an idiot as you hear Pietro huff and haw.

"Why shouldn't it matter?" He asks, watching as you complete your routine. "I- I have a reason to care." He stutters out cheeks flushing a light pink that reaches his ears. You cover your mouth to keep yourself from laughing.

"Don't laugh!" Pietro objects, and it sends you into a fit of laughter as you stand back up and flop onto your back on the bed next to him.

"He's not my type anyway." You say. It only takes a second before Pietro is leaning over you, caging you between his arms. There's the ghost of a grin beginning to form on his face, simply at the sight of your own cheesy expression.

"What is your type, then?" He asks, and you cock an eyebrow at him.

"Let's just say I prefer a man who can keep up with me." You say with a wink that may or may not have been the most terribly, corny action you could have done. Pietro doesn't seem to care as his face is split with an equally as corny grin.

Both of you are caught off guard by someone calling your same from the hallway, and then a knock shortly after. You take Pietro's moment of distraction and quickly lean up, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Pietro looks absolutely shocked.

"You better get going." You whisper. He smiles at you, almost in disbelief, and then he's gone, the window left open and the breeze catching on curtains, blowing gently.

[urdreamydoodles]

Hello!!! I just found your page and yes I already I love your work!!

If it’s no trouble, may I ask for X-men characters with a Pregnant s/o headcanons? Like how they would be when you tell them you’re pregnant, how they are when you’re pregnant, and how they’d be during labor! 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Could I also ask it be with: Logan, Scott, Gambit, Ororo, Colossus, and Kurt??

If not it’s totally okay! Have a great rest of your day 💖💖

X-Men x Pregnant!Reader

How they handle your pregnancy

Each X-Man reacts differently to your pregnancy, from initial surprise and joy to unwavering support during labor, reflecting their unique personalities and love for you.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Kurt Wagner, Colossus (+ my personal addition : Erik Lehnsherr, Wade Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Pietro Maximoff)

Thank you for saying that, hearing that my work is liked makes me really happy, thank you ♡ And it's not a trouble at all — love the prompt! — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

When you tell Logan you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is a mix of shock and silence. For a moment, he’s frozen in place, his gruff exterior cracking just enough to reveal how truly taken aback he is by the news. He’s been through so much, lost so many people, and had so many regrets in his life that the thought of bringing a child into this world overwhelms him. But after a long, quiet moment, his eyes soften, and he gently places a hand on your stomach, the roughness of his calloused palm contrasting with the tenderness in his gesture. His voice, usually gruff and low, is quiet when he says, "I’ll protect both of ya… no matter what."

During your pregnancy, Logan becomes fiercely protective. He’s always been the protective type, but now it’s ramped up to an entirely different level. He doesn’t let you do anything that might risk your health or the baby’s, even if it’s something small like lifting a grocery bag. He makes sure you’re comfortable, constantly checking in with you—though he tries to act like he’s not worried. You often catch him watching you, eyes filled with a mix of awe and uncertainty. He tries not to hover, but you can see how much he cares. The moment you’re uncomfortable, he’s there, ready to do anything to help. His biggest fear, though he never outright says it, is that something will happen to you or the baby, so he keeps an almost obsessive eye on both of your well-being.

When labor begins, Logan is a mess of emotions. He’s usually the calm in any storm, but seeing you in pain makes him feel helpless in a way he’s not used to. He holds your hand, trying to keep you calm, though his own heart races. "I’m here, darlin’. You’re strong. You got this," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your forehead, staying close, trying to mask his own panic. When the baby finally comes, and he hears that first cry, tears fill his eyes. He never thought he could experience something so beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Logan would quietly hold the baby, marveling at the tiny life you both created, knowing he’s going to protect this child with everything he has.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

Telling Remy you’re pregnant is like lighting a firework. He’s always been a charmer, quick with a grin and a flirtatious quip, but when the news sinks in, his eyes light up with uncontainable excitement. "Mon dieu… I gon’ be a papa?" he says in disbelief, his signature grin widening as he pulls you into his arms. His hands immediately find your stomach, even if there’s no sign of the baby yet, and he plants a loving kiss on your lips. Remy is the kind of man who loves with his whole heart, and now, the idea of a family with you makes him feel like the luckiest man alive.

Throughout the pregnancy, Remy is absolutely doting. He spoils you beyond belief, making sure you have everything you need. He constantly brings you little gifts—flowers, chocolates, or even things for the baby—and he can’t help but talk to your belly every chance he gets, whispering sweet nothings in French. "Cher bébé, you gon’ have de best life wit’ us," he coos. He’s also incredibly playful, making jokes to keep your spirits high during the more uncomfortable parts of the pregnancy. If you’re feeling tired or sick, he’s quick to comfort you, but he does it with his usual playful charm. "You look beautiful, ma chérie, even wit’ a lil’ bump," he teases, kissing your cheek. Remy’s energy makes the whole experience feel lighter, more fun, and less daunting.

During labor, Remy’s usual calm and collected demeanor falters. He’s still his charming self, but there’s a frantic edge to his words as he holds your hand. "You okay, chérie? I’m right here wit’ you," he reassures, though you can see the worry in his eyes. He’s not used to seeing you in pain, and it shakes him more than he thought it would. As the labor progresses, he stays by your side, whispering sweet encouragements in French and English, never letting go of your hand. When the baby finally arrives, he’s completely overwhelmed, tears of joy running down his face as he holds your child for the first time. "Our lil’ miracle," he says softly, his heart full to bursting with love for both you and the baby.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you tell Scott you’re pregnant, he’s stunned, standing still for a long moment as he processes the news. Scott, being the logical and responsible leader he is, has always thought about the future and the possibility of a family, but hearing it from you makes it real in a way that both excites and terrifies him. "We’re… we’re going to be parents?" he asks, his voice soft with disbelief before his arms wrap around you tightly. You can see the joy in his face, mixed with the weight of responsibility that’s already setting in. He’s already planning everything in his mind—how he’ll protect you, the future he’ll build for the three of you, ensuring that you and the baby are always safe.

Throughout your pregnancy, Scott is incredibly attentive and thoughtful. He’s the type to read all the parenting books, meticulously prepare for every scenario, and ensure that you’re comfortable and healthy at all times. He schedules every doctor’s appointment, makes sure you’re eating well, and insists that you take things easy. He’s also incredibly emotional during this time, though he tries to hide it. You often catch him looking at you with a softness in his eyes, one hand resting protectively on your stomach. "I love you so much," he says out of the blue one night, his voice filled with quiet awe. Scott takes everything seriously, and your pregnancy is no exception—he’s already planning how to be the best father he can be.

When the day of labor arrives, Scott is calm and composed, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He’s a natural leader, but this is out of his control, and it scares him more than he’ll admit. He holds your hand the entire time, murmuring words of encouragement, but there’s a tightness in his voice that betrays his worry. "You’re doing great, we’re almost there," he says, though you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are. When the baby is born, Scott is overcome with emotion. He’s usually so controlled, but in this moment, tears stream down his face as he holds your newborn in his arms. "We did it," he whispers, looking between you and the baby with a sense of awe and love so profound it leaves him speechless.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you tell Ororo you’re pregnant, her reaction is calm yet filled with quiet joy. She has always been a steady presence, and that doesn’t change even in a moment as life-altering as this. You watch as her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a deep breath, letting it out with a smile that’s filled with nothing but love. "A child," she says softly, as if testing the words out on her lips before she steps closer, pulling you into a tender embrace. She kisses your forehead, her fingers gently brushing your stomach. "We will raise them together with the strength of the earth, the wind, and the skies," she whispers, her voice filled with a quiet reverence for this new journey you’re about to embark on together.

During the pregnancy, Ororo is a pillar of strength and grace. She watches over you with care, making sure you feel supported and at peace throughout. Her connection to nature allows her to sense even the smallest changes in your well-being, and she’s quick to help ease any discomfort you feel. She spends hours talking to your growing belly, whispering stories of the world, of the sky, and the beauty of the elements. Her presence is soothing, and she brings you peace in moments where the discomforts of pregnancy are hardest to bear. At night, she holds you close, her hands resting protectively on your stomach, often saying a quiet prayer to the earth for your safety. "You and our child are my heart," she says softly one evening as you drift off to sleep, her love for you as powerful as the storms she commands.

When the time comes for labor, Ororo is a calming force by your side. Even as the pain begins, she stays with you, her hand in yours, reminding you to breathe, to focus on the world around you. "Feel the wind, my love, let it guide you," she murmurs, her voice steady as she helps you through each contraction. You find yourself drawing strength from her presence, her deep connection to the elements grounding you. When the baby finally arrives, she cradles the tiny life in her arms with such tenderness that it brings tears to your eyes. "Welcome to the world, little one," she whispers, her eyes filled with awe and love. Ororo knows this is a moment of great power, not just in the birth of your child, but in the creation of a family bound by love and strength.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

When you tell Kurt you’re pregnant, his first reaction is pure, unfiltered joy. His golden eyes light up, and in an instant, he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his tail curling around you protectively. "Mein Gott! You are serious, ja?" he asks, his excitement palpable. When you nod, he lets out a delighted laugh, teleporting you both into the air for a brief moment in his excitement before bringing you back down gently. He cups your face in his hands, pressing kisses all over your cheeks and lips, his happiness absolutely infectious. "I am going to be a papa?!" he repeats, as if he can’t quite believe it, but the pure joy on his face shows that he couldn’t be happier. He immediately begins to talk about your future together, about how he’ll be the best father, about how lucky the child will be to have you as their mother.

Throughout your pregnancy, Kurt is an absolute ball of energy and love. He’s always fussing over you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re happy, and doing everything he can to make you smile. He talks to your belly constantly, telling your baby stories of his own childhood, sharing his love for adventure and his deep faith. "You will be loved, little one. So very loved," he whispers often, his tail lightly wrapping around you as he presses his head to your stomach. Despite his own rough upbringing, Kurt is determined to make sure your child is raised with nothing but love and joy. He’s so excited for every little milestone, constantly asking how you’re feeling, and making sure that you never feel alone or overwhelmed. He even starts knitting baby clothes in his spare time, determined to create something personal for your child.

When labor begins, Kurt is nervous but tries his best to stay calm for your sake. He teleports in and out of the room, fetching things, bringing you water, doing anything he can to help. "You are so strong, meine liebe, you’ve got this," he says, though you can see the nervous energy in him as he paces slightly. When things get intense, he stays by your side, holding your hand tightly, his usual calm demeanor replaced with pure awe at what’s happening. The moment the baby is born, Kurt is overwhelmed with emotion. Tears fill his golden eyes as he looks at the tiny life you’ve created together. "Our little miracle," he whispers in awe, his tail brushing gently against the baby’s tiny hand as he cradles them carefully. His heart is full, knowing that this is the start of a new, beautiful chapter for your family.

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus)

When you tell Piotr you’re pregnant, his first reaction is one of quiet shock. His gentle nature has always been a core part of who he is, but the idea of becoming a father leaves him momentarily speechless. He stares at you for a moment, as if processing the magnitude of what you just said. Then, slowly, a smile breaks across his face, and his massive arms gently pull you into a warm, protective embrace. "We are going to have a child?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with wonder. His metal form, cold to the touch, somehow feels comforting as he holds you close, his hands resting gently on your stomach. "I… I will do everything to protect you and our child," he promises, his deep voice filled with determination and love.

Throughout your pregnancy, Piotr becomes an even more protective and attentive partner. He’s already used to being careful with his strength around you, but now he’s even more cautious, always making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He spends hours drawing and painting, creating art that reflects the love and joy he feels for you and the baby. His gentle nature shines through as he constantly checks in with you, making sure you’re well-rested, eating enough, and not doing anything that could put strain on you or the baby. "You should rest, moya lyubov’," he says softly, offering you a cup of tea or a warm blanket whenever you look the least bit uncomfortable. He talks about the future often, about how he wants to raise the child with the same love and care his family gave him, how he wants to teach them to be strong but gentle, like him.

When labor begins, Piotr is a bundle of nerves beneath his calm exterior. His metal form shifts, and you can see the tension in his usually composed demeanor. He stays by your side, holding your hand gently, though you can tell he’s trying not to show just how worried he is. "I am here, love, you are so strong," he says softly, his voice a low rumble as he reassures you throughout the process. As the labor progresses, he’s there every step of the way, doing whatever he can to help. When the baby is finally born, Piotr is overwhelmed with emotion. He carefully cradles the tiny life in his large, metal arms, his eyes shining with tears as he looks at you with pure love. "Our family," he whispers, his deep voice filled with awe and devotion. "You have given me everything."

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you tell Erik you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is one of deep, contemplative silence. You watch as the weight of the news settles over him like a heavy cloak, and for a brief moment, there’s an unreadable look in his sharp eyes. He’s always been a man burdened by the past, his life filled with loss and pain. But then, his expression softens, and he reaches out to touch your face, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. "A child," he murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to believe it. Slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. "We will give them the world," he promises, his voice low and filled with the intensity that only Erik can bring. Though you can tell the news has stirred up memories of his past, the joy he feels for this future with you is undeniable.

During the pregnancy, Erik becomes fiercely protective, bordering on overbearing at times. He’s always been a man who values control, and now that you’re carrying his child, that instinct is heightened tenfold. He monitors everything, making sure you’re safe, making sure you’re comfortable, and making sure nothing threatens you or the baby. His magnetic abilities become almost a subconscious part of how he protects you, moving objects out of your way before you even realize they’re there, adjusting the temperature of the room without a second thought. Despite his intensity, there’s a tenderness in the way he speaks to your belly, as though he’s already trying to form a connection with your unborn child. "You will be strong," he says one evening, his hand resting on your stomach. "I will make sure of it."

When labor begins, Erik is calm but incredibly focused. He’s been through many battles in his life, but this is something different—a battle of a more personal kind. He stays by your side, his hand gripping yours tightly, though you can see the tension in his jaw as he tries to remain composed. "You can do this, my love," he says, his voice steady despite the worry in his eyes. As the contractions grow stronger, he channels his abilities to make the environment as soothing as possible, dimming the lights, adjusting the metal fixtures in the room to make everything feel more comfortable for you. When the baby is finally born, Erik is silent for a long moment, staring at the tiny life you’ve both created. Then, without a word, he takes the child in his arms, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability as he gazes down at them. "I never thought I would have this again," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

When you tell Wade you’re pregnant, his reaction is, unsurprisingly, over the top. He stares at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open comically for a moment before he suddenly breaks into a huge grin. "Are you serious?!" he shouts, throwing his arms in the air and spinning around in excitement. He grabs you and starts bouncing you up and down, all the while chattering on about how you’re going to have the coolest kid in the world. "Oh man, this is going to be awesome! Our little baby Wadelette, or Wadelino!" His excitement is infectious, and though his humor never stops, you can tell there’s genuine love and excitement behind his wild antics. He talks about everything from baby names to what kind of mini-costume the kid will wear, all while being completely and utterly himself.

During the pregnancy, Wade is a chaotic but devoted partner. He’s constantly hovering, making ridiculous jokes to keep your spirits up, and finding the weirdest ways to pamper you. "You’re eating for two now! Gotta keep that belly happy!" he’d say, handing you a tray of the strangest food combinations you’ve ever seen. Wade has a way of making even the most uncomfortable moments of pregnancy into something funny, but when the serious moments hit, he’s surprisingly thoughtful. He talks to your belly in exaggerated voices, telling the baby stories of his adventures and promising to be the best (and weirdest) dad ever. Though he can’t quite stop being himself, you know that beneath all the humor, Wade is completely committed to you and the baby.

When labor hits, Wade is... well, Wade. He’s running around like a madman, alternately panicking and cracking jokes to try and keep things light. "Okay, okay, I’ve got this! I’ve fought ninjas, I’ve blown up buildings, how hard can this be?!" he says, though the genuine concern in his eyes gives him away. As things progress, he becomes a little more serious, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement between his nervous ramblings. When the baby is finally born, Wade is struck speechless for once in his life. He stares down at the tiny bundle in awe, his usual mask of humor slipping as he gently takes the baby in his arms. "Holy crap," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "We made a tiny person." He looks at you with wide eyes, his usual bravado replaced with pure, unfiltered love.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

When you tell Wanda you’re pregnant, her initial reaction is one of quiet, overwhelmed emotion. You watch as her eyes fill with tears, her hands trembling as she reaches out to touch your face. "A baby?" she whispers, her voice filled with disbelief. For Wanda, this news is a dream she never thought possible, a hope she had long since buried beneath the weight of her complicated life. She pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as she tries to process the enormity of what this means for the both of you. Her powers flicker around her, responding to her heightened emotions, but she calms herself quickly, pressing her forehead to yours. "I never thought I would have this chance," she says softly. "But now… now we can have a family."

Throughout the pregnancy, Wanda is a bundle of emotions—both excitement and worry. She’s incredibly protective, her powers always at the ready to keep you and the baby safe, but there’s an underlying fear that something could go wrong. Despite her concerns, she embraces the experience fully, surrounding you with warmth and love. She spends hours researching everything about pregnancy, reading books, and using her magic to ensure you and the baby are healthy. She talks to your belly every night, using her magic to create little illusions of what she imagines your child might look like. "You will be so loved," she whispers to your stomach, her hands gently resting over the growing life inside you. Despite the fears that linger in the back of her mind, Wanda finds joy in the journey, grateful for the chance to experience this with you.

When labor begins, Wanda is nervous but focused. She holds your hand, her magic swirling around the room in gentle pulses, trying to ease your pain and keep you calm. "You’re so strong," she says, her voice soft but full of conviction. "I’m here with you." As the contractions intensify, Wanda uses her powers to help as much as she can without interfering too much, guiding you through the pain with a steady hand and reassuring words. When the baby is finally born, Wanda is overwhelmed with emotion. She cradles the newborn in her arms, tears streaming down her face as she gazes at the life you’ve created together. "Our child," she whispers, her voice filled with awe. "I can’t believe it… they’re perfect."

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

When you tell Pietro you’re pregnant, his reaction is fast—literally. He zooms around the room at breakneck speed, his excitement palpable as he tries to process the news. "Wait, wait, wait—seriously? I’m going to be a dad?!" he exclaims, coming to a sudden stop in front of you with wide eyes and a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He’s so thrilled that he can barely stand still, constantly moving from one side of the room to the other, muttering excitedly to himself about baby names, future races, and all the things he’ll teach your child. "They’re gonna be fast, I just know it!" he says, already imagining a little speedster following in his footsteps. His excitement is contagious, and though he can be overwhelming at times, you know that Pietro’s joy is genuine and heartfelt.

During the pregnancy, Pietro is both attentive and hilariously impatient. He’s constantly zipping around, checking on you, fetching things, and making sure you’re comfortable. "You need anything? Water? Snacks? Foot rub?" he asks at lightning speed, already halfway out the door before you can answer. His energy is boundless, and though it can be a bit much at times, you appreciate how much he cares. Pietro is always talking to your belly, encouraging the baby to hurry up and grow faster. "Come on, little one, we’re all waiting for you!" he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to your stomach. Despite his impatience, Pietro is incredibly sweet, and he does everything he can to make sure you feel loved and supported throughout the entire process.

When labor begins, Pietro is a whirlwind of nervous energy. He’s constantly pacing, moving from one side of the room to the other, his speed betraying his anxiety. "You’re doing great, babe, really great!" he says, though his voice is tinged with nervousness. He tries to stay calm for your sake, but you can tell he’s on edge, desperate for everything to go smoothly. When the baby is finally born, Pietro’s world comes to a complete standstill for the first time in his life. The moment they place the baby in his arms, everything around him slows, and for once, he’s not in a rush to go anywhere. He stares down at your newborn child, his usual cocky smirk replaced with a look of pure awe and disbelief. "Wow," he whispers, his voice soft and reverent. "I… we made this." His hands, usually moving a mile a minute, are gentle as he cradles the baby close, eyes wide with wonder as he examines every little detail of their face.

[sebsbarnes]

phantom pain || pietro maximoff

pietro maximoff x reader

summary: i'm jealous of the rain that falls upon your skin, it's closer than my hands have been

warnings: insecurities, none really?? (i think)

word count: 2.9k+ ; angst, comfort

masterlist

a/n: this is a rewrite of a bucky fic i wrote 6 years ago but now much longer, better, and for pietro. sorry for grammar/editing mistakes that are prob here but still enjoy

pietro knew you had been hiding something. he had known you for three years and had been dating you for almost two. over the course of the months and weeks spent with the other he had grown accustomed to your silent cues. the silence that would consume you when tony's party carried on too late and you desperately wished to exit or when you performed poorly during training and steve berated you with tips. but mostly the silence that would linger around you when you were alone. not all the time, no, but there were times when pietro could feel and see the physical shift in your body language.

he never wanted to pry not as a friend or a boyfriend. pietro understood that every avenger has a past life, one that the others are unaware of. though he loved playing back the memories of his childhood and his parents, he too would shift into a silent shell of a person and he would want nothing more than to be left alone and not questioned. pietro loved the abilities he had but some days he wondered whether the extreme heat of his body or the slow-moving world around him actually made him sad. life was no longer normal, his body was no longer normal, nothing was normal.

this is exactly how you felt. the tragedies in your life were sometimes unbearable and if you could disappear you would but you had so much to be thankful for. if it wasn't for the accident you wouldn't be an avenger, you wouldn't have the friends you have, you wouldn't experience even half of what you've had now, and you wouldn't have pietro, the love of your life. at the end of the day you were alive and more than often, incredibly happy.

but there were those times you fell into silence over your newfound life, mainly the consequences of the accident. your memory still struggled, you were weak for a very long time, and when the weather got too cold you could feel the ache in your bones. you weren't like the rest of the avengers who possessed special abilities or were highly skilled in combat. three and a half years ago you were a normal person. you had a normal life, job, family, and friends, up until the accident. and every day the phantom pain reminds you of what was taken.

it was winter when you first met all the avengers. they all lived together and after you recovered from the accident, tony wanted you here, to live here. you protested the idea for a while claiming that tony's generosity was far too much. he had already saved you from the accident and offering a space to live and a job was incredulous, but after much debate you agreed. that first day you silently sat in the corner of the room while all the avengers had a meeting. you swayed back and forth in the rolling chair, taking in the information and occasionally stealing glances at a silver-haired man.

"and this is (y/n)!," tony exclaimed, "our newest friend here so please for the love of god be kind during the acclamation period. i'm already prematurely greying and i don't need anymore."

the meeting was over and one by one the avengers came to greet you, offering their names and welcomes and soon the silver-haired man approached you.

pietro stuck his hand out to shake yours. he found it odd that despite the room being almost swelteringly hot from the heater, you still had your gloves on.

"i'm pietro."

it was about three weeks later you found yourself sitting with pietro, clint, steve, and natasha. everyone was sitting on the couch talking about whatever topic you possibly could conjure up. there was a lull in conversation before clint spoke up.

"hey," he said turning towards you, "why do you have gloves on?"

it was as if clint never spoke and without missing a beat you stood up, looking down at pietro, "wanna help me finish building my desk?"

pietro hesitated a moment, eyes flickering over to clint, "of course."

pietro had come to learn not to question why you covered your hands in those first few months. any mention of you hiding them was never met with an answer. he was protective of you and he felt himself falling for you each day, and you the same. the two of you did a lot together, you cooked, clean, went out, watched movies, almost everything together and you loved it. it felt like home here and pietro felt like home.

it was a big dinner, the night you finally took your gloves off. there was no special reason why, to be frank, you just decided to no longer be embarrassed.

"c'mon kid we all got something weird about us. i play in a suit all day, cap runs around in tights, pietro is faster than the speed of light, and parker shoots webs... from his hands!" tony ranted on.

you sighed, "i know. i just feel weird on top of this because i am still new here."

"we all have been new," tony started, inspecting your hands one final time, "no one will judge you, kid, but take it at your own pace. you don't owe anyone nothing. well, maybe except me," he winked.

only two hours later you were all seated at the big table with everyone to eat. from tony, to pietro, to thor, to natasha, to sam, everyone was here. next to you was tony and rhodey, pietro across from you pulling funny faces while the food was served out. you fidgeted with your fingers in your lap trying to stall picking up the fork and knife. everyone had started eating and chatting amongst the group when you finally lifted your arms to the table and started cutting into the chicken.

pietro watched as you shifted in your seat, your forearms coming to rest on the white cloth and your fingers wrapping around the fork and knife. the first time he has ever seen your hands.

your metal hands.

after that night there were murmurs throughout the crew about the state of your hands. people were confused why someone who led a normal life ended up with metal hands, similar to bucky's arm. the word accident had floated through the air but you never commented on it.

winter had turned into spring that ended all too quickly and now it was the dead of summer. the day was slow and pietro was bored and craving movement. his head was hanging over the arm of the couch, his silver hair hung to the floor.

"want to get ice cream?" he asked.

"it's like you read my mind," you grinned swiping your wallet off the counter.

you and pietro wandered around town aimlessly before stopping at the ice cream shop. he admired the way you threw your head back in laughter and the way you covered your mouth when he said something outlandish. even though pietro's body ran warm he could feel the increasing heat spread throughout his cheeks each time you shot him a smile and his name rolled off your lips.

in an instant, he thought he ruined it all when he reached out and wrapped his fingers in yours. he felt your fingers twitching and the way you misstepped.

"i'm sorry," accent thick as he retracted his hand.

you smiled softly at him before gently grabbing his hand, "don't be."

it was that day over a hot fudge sundae that you told pietro what had happened. it was a horrible car accident early in the winter before you met the avengers. there were several cars and buses involved. not only did you lose your hands that day but your family. tony was also in this accident, his car had actually collided with yours, though his vehicle wasn't the one that caused your injuries. he had rushed to help you and immediately took on a parental role when he observed the condition of everyone else in the car. you were bruised and bloody with several fractured bones, but mainly, every bone in both your hands were shattered beyond repair. tony took you to his doctors where you all came to the difficult decision that your hands had to go, but tony offered you a solution. to replace the once skin and bones with metal.

pietro listened the entire time letting you go on and on to which you apologized for being boring. 'no dragă' he would whisper and you continued on with his thumb running over your knuckles. the gesture comforted you but the voice in the back of your head nagged that it was out of pity.

the months began to fly past faster than you could imagine. you and pietro were inseparable. anytime the members walked past the two of you they'd fake gag or pretend to cry. once wanda had muttered under her breath how she never thought pietro would actually date someone. you would only get shy over it and pietro found it amusing and would pinch at your cheeks. it was only when the two of you officially started dating when pietro would notice the different type of silence you'd fall into.

he would sometimes catch you sitting on the edge of your bed staring at your hands the features on your face contorted with disgust.

"what is the matter?" he questioned.

"oh nothing," you sighed with a fake smile, placing your hands beside you.

or the times pietro noticed the way you hesitated before touching him.

"am i that scary dragă?" pietro joked with a sickly smile.

your features would soften and the lines between your brows disappeared, "the most terrifying," you winked.

or the times pietro saw the way you gazed at other people's hands when they came into contact with pietro.

"doesn't his hair look good like this?" wanda asked you as she finished braiding her brother's hair. the two of them looking at you in the mirror.

you didn't respond right away. you were too distracted watching the way her fingers weaved their way through his silver hair and grazed his scalp while pulling hair into its pattern. with the most pitiful smile, you responded.

"amazing."

pietro knew that eventually, you would confide in him over the way you viewed your hands. he didn't want to overstep, that wasn't the relationship the two of you had. the late nights pietro spent shaking under the blankets from nightmares, you never asked him. you held him close to you and hummed a small tune to calm him down and you did that every night without fail. one day over breakfast he finally confided in you over the terrors that haunted his dreams.

what pietro didn't expect was that today on your second anniversary was the day you would finally scream your frustrations out. the two of you weren't doing anything special and nor did you want to. all the avengers insisted you at least leave home and do something for a little while. that's why you found yourselves lazily walking around a park, hand-in-hand, arms swinging and shoulders bumping. the sound of laughter echoed through the park and you swore the leaves shook. you were happy, beyond happy. pietro and you were madly in love and there wasn't one thing you could wish for, maybe.

suddenly the wind picked up and the dark clouds rolled above and unleashed raindrops that were nearly the size of baseballs.

"oh my god!" you squealed.

"it is so cold!" pietro laughed loudly.

you were squinting through the pouring rain, your hair and clothes plastered to your skin, pietro was dancing around in a circle with his tongue out in hopes of catching the water. pietro grabbed onto your forearms pulling you into him.

"you look so cute right now," he yelled over the thunderous rain.

"don't be silly! i look like a mess!" you giggled slightly swatting at his chest.

pietro leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. his smile growing wider as if his mouth was a plant and the rain was helping it grow. his fingers brushed the hair out of your face and kissed you once more on the forehead.

"there's so many droplets on your lashes!" you exclaimed. pietro watched your lips pull into a smile. the sun wasn't out but he could've been fooled by the way your eyes shined at him. he watched as you lifted your hand to brush the droplets off, and then suddenly, it all changed.

pietro watched as your smile dropped into parted lips of disgust and shame, your eyebrows pulled together in the middle, and rain was no longer the only thing running down your face. you faltered in your step backward and pietro reached out to steady you but you pulled back further. it was like you were a toy and your batteries had just run out you were so still.

"b-baby what is wrong?" the worried etched onto his face was almost painful.

"i'm jealous," you cried, your bottom lip shaking violently.

pietro shook his head, "my love what is going on? you are worrying me."

you lifted your hands in front of your face, your eyes trailed down every finger and across your palm to the back of your hand. the small metal panels almost mocking you as you could see your eyes reflect back at you. at this moment pietro started to piece together all the instances in the past.

"i can't feel you," you wallowed, "i can't feel your skin, pietro. my hands!" he watched as you stretched your arms out to show him your hands as if he'd never seen them before.

"i'm envious of everything that can feel you! the rain, your clothes, everyone else, but not me, i can't! do you know how badly i want to feel the texture of your hair or the tears you cry or-or the skin on your lips and i can't! i crave the feeling of you and i'll never get to know that. i want to feel the plastic of a pen or grass between my fingers or the calluses of training too hard and i'll never get that again. the phantom pain i have will never be as painful as never being able to hold you with my real hands."

as your cries grew louder the storm cleared up to let you have the stage. you stood in front of pietro as the shell of the person he would see those times you were alone silently observing your hands. even though he wasn't the one yelling, he felt as if his own vocal chords were being shredded, he could feel the chambers in his heart slowly start to shut down one by one, and the burn in his eyes was almost blinding.

he slowly stepped towards you cautious not to make you jerk backwards again. the tears in each of your eyes seemed to sync up and roll down together. pietro gently grabbed your hand, grateful that you let him, and held it to his cheek.

"this, my love, this is me. this is the me that only you will know and no one else. it is not the same as everyone else but different much like us," he said gently, his other hand gesturing between your bodies, "if i could do anything in the world, no matter the cost, to help with your hands i would and i am so sorry i cannot," pietro was now holding your face in his hands.

"but i want you to know i love you for everything that you are and i always will. no matter what the future has in store for us, in my heart, you will always be first. and- and i know there are other reasons why you dislike your hands but i never want to be the reason that you dislike something about yourself. maybe i can talk to mr. stark, yeah?" he pondered nodding his head rapidly, "maybe we can figure something out and give your hands an upgrade. maybe he knows someone?"

you sniffled, looking lovingly at pietro who was trying to think of any possibility even though you both had discussed in the past that there was nothing that could be done for your hands. that day tony saved you was the best opportunity you could get to help your hands and nothing in the world could beat it.

"i love you so much pietro, you are everything i could ask for in a boyfriend and more," you spoke, resting your face further into his hands.

pietro ran his hands across your shoulders and down your arms to hold onto your wrists. he brought your hand up to his face and placed a delicate kiss to your fingertips until all ten were loved. pietro pulled you into a hug, one palm resting flat against your spine and the other holding the back of your head. you leaned into his chest and let your ear listen to the thump of his heart. the two of you stood there motionless. minutes passed by and neither of you dared to move. to an unobservant eye, you two could've passed as a statue. two lovers forever memorialized in the dusk of the sky, the rain puddles collecting at your feet, and a love story forever admired over.

[stinkrat-aleks]

saw this on pinterest. immediately thought of the soccer au

HAHAHA I’m so glad im not the only one who sees him as a pokemon kid omg

he’s sounding shit out the best he can ….. it’s just a little easier with Pokémon for him …..

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

oooh oooh can i request edging with pietro ?

hii! omg yess! also apologies this has taken so long. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

late night meeting

Pietro Maximoff x f reader

wc || 1k

warnings || 18+ only explicit content (edging and little bit of overstimulation at end, praise and pietro being a little dominant) minors dni

masterlist + rules

taglist

Pietro is the most charismatic of men, often getting his way with his sweet silver eyes and Sokovian charm. His velvet voice could convince you to do anything, even breaking Steve's only rule of room sharing, which is what had happened for the third time this week.

Everyone was in their rooms for the night except Pietro, who was hovering over you with his hands caressing your naked body, slowly stroking over your goosebumped skin as he gazed into your eyes. "Gotta be quiet, milovat. Steve's next door," he smirks, nodding to the wall behind you as he cups under your bare tit, gently rolling it in his palms. "…real quiet." he adds, his head hung low as he flicks over your nipple, lightly teasing as it stiffens against his tongue.

His hand slides down the side of your waist, brushing with featherlight touch as he slips his hand between your thighs, lightly trailing his middle finger through your slick folds. His satisfactory grin told you all that you needed to know.

He shifts his weight, hovering over you as he propped himself on his elbow beside you. Leaning into your side with a boyish grin as his finger gingerly circled over your clit, teasing the nub with the pad of it. His forehead drops into the crook of your neck where he litters the nape with slow soft kisses, lightly exhaling on your skin as his finger moves at a tantalising pace. Lightly rubbing over your clit in the way he knew you liked.

Itching his head up, he begins to kiss along your jaw, pecking under your ear as he focuses on your breathing, listening attentively to every hitch and stagger that left your lips. "You sound so pretty, draga." he praises, delicately nibbling and sucking on your ear lobe.

His fingers circle over your clit in a slow teasing motion, not giving you what you need to reach your high. "Patience, Milovat," he husks, slipping his spare hand into yours to stop you from touching yourself. His tone sweet yet, condescending as he softly speaks under your ear, lightly kissing the skin. "Getting close?" he rhetorically asks, his cocky smirk widening at the thought of you coming.

He listens to your body, watching your chest rise and fall as he waits for the right moment, rubbing slowly before snatching his hand away. "You can't do that," you whine, reaching your free hand to finish the job yourself.

Pietro grins at your needy whimper, pulling your hand away and gripping it above your head with your other hand, clasping them together. "I don't think so," he adds, shushing your displeased sounds with a tender kiss to your lips. "All in good time," parting with low blissed eyes as he gazes into yours.

He slides his hand over your inner thighs, gently kneading the doughy flesh between his fingers. His eyes fixated on you as he watched the desperate expressions on your face, teasing you further with a soft low chuckle. Trailing his fingers up the crease of your thigh, he drags them back over your pussy, leisurely caressing your folds between his fingers as he attaches his lips to the side of your throat, faintly suckling at it.

He dips the tip of his middle finger into you, slowly easing in and curling upwards to collect the creamy slick. Dragging his finger from your desperate pussy he guides it to his lips, licking it clean with a content sigh. "Was needing that," he whispers, another smirk spreads across his lips.

"Come on," you whine, trying to loosen from his grip so that you could reach the high you were chasing.

Tutting with disapproval as he tightens around your wrists, pushing them further into the mattress. "What did I say?" he questions, barely audible as he lowers to your ear. "Tell me…" he sultrily husks, kissing the side of your neck as his two middle fingers circled over your clit. His speed deliberate and precise as he rubbed you.

"To wait," you quietly reply, grinding up and into his hand.

"That's not waiting, draga…" he says, his tone dissatisfied as he removes his fingers. "You're not listening."

"I'll wait… I promise, please?" your voice littered with desperation, nodding eagerly to show your understanding. "I'll wait," you whisper, wanting nothing more than to feel the release you were aching for.

"Good," he replies, dragging his moistened fingers to where you needed him, gingerly circling over your clit. "That better?" he asks, his sole attention on you.

"Hm," you shakily respond, concentrating on the overwhelmingly engulfing feeling he gave you. Shutting off your mind as you absorbed all of the sensations. He continued to give you right what you needed, never faltering in motion as he got you all sorts of worked up. Rubbing your clit in a lust-filled haze.

He could tell by your strangled and erratic breathing that you were getting close, so he kept the same pace as he worked you up to your release. Getting himself worked up as he strummed your nub, breathing heavily under your ear.

He peppers your throat with brash hasty kisses, desperately suckling your skin. Pietro loosens the grip around your wrists, freeing them and immediately palming over your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and index.

It was all starting to feel like too much. Pietro knew every way to get you off, and he was doing it all at once. Overwhelming you with pleasure as you felt the internal balloon stretch thinner and thinner. You felt the pressure of your release approach without warning, jolting and spasming against the mattress, aimlessly whimpering and mewling as you ground into his fingers.

His spare hand slides up the valley of your tits and along the length of your throat, softly squeezing before continuing the trail up to your lips. Clasping his palm over your moaning mouth as his leg slinked over yours, using his thigh to keep it open as he worked you through your elated high.

Rubbing you into a blubbering mess until you could take no more.

His movements halt, instantly wrapping you up in a tight embrace, rolling you onto his chest as he falls back into the bed, tenderly cuddling you.

"I think I'm gonna stay over," he softly chuckles, pulling the covers over you both.

[fandomnerd9602]

Pietro: you need a girlfriend. I dare you to kiss the next woman you see

Y/N: (huffs) fine

Wanda walks in…

Y/N:

Pietro: no! Don’t you dare

Y/N: I won’t. Wanda’s not a woman…she’s a goddess.

Wanda smirks and summons Y/N to her instead…

[xxplastic-cubexx]

If that's how you draw Erik, then wtf does your Pietro look like? Is he just younger and paler than his pops, but mostly unchanged in the facial department?

we gotta workshop him a little but heres some quick (heh) doodles

[ginnsbaker]

My Sundown

Summary: You’ve been a Hydra agent for as long as you can remember, when Wanda Maximoff and her brother, Pietro, volunteers for Hydra's human experiments.

Word count: 10K+ | Tags: Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader | Warnings: Only mentions of smut. Hurt/comfort. Reader is a little older than Wanda. Some angst. | A/N: I missed writing for Wanda, and have always wanted to write canon-ish oneshots for the MCU character. Main Masterlist

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When they first bring her in, she looks like she's been through hell—eyes hollow, skin pale, a storm simmering just beneath the surface. Her hands tremble, not from fear, but from the sheer, unbridled power flowing through her veins. The room seems to shrink under the weight of it, as if even the walls are aware of what she’s capable of. The other recruits are scared and jittery, but she’s different. Her brother too—both rough around the edges, like two sides of the same scarred coin.

“Where did they round up these rats now?” you mutter to Lev, who’s standing dutifully beside you—the only person you've let close enough to be called a friend in all your years with Hydra.

“Sokovian volunteers,” he corrects you, eyes fixed straight ahead, mirroring your own unblinking focus on the twins. Maybe he feels the strange energy coming off them too, or maybe it’s just the routine numbness that sets in after years of blindly following orders.

You nod slightly, though the term volunteer feels like a cruel joke. No one truly volunteers for this. 

“Agent.” 

Dr. List’s voice yanks you out of your thoughts, dreary and impersonal. He calls everyone that way, as if you're just another tool, interchangeable and anonymous. It’s an intentional tactic—strip away the names, and you strip any sense of humanity.  Without a name, you’re not a person; you’re just a weapon at their disposal.

But you know he means you.

You step forward. “Sir,” you reply, maintaining a ramrod straight posture, your eyes fixed on a spot just beside his perpetually scowling face. It seems all villains share that same dour expression, but if this woman—this girl—makes it through the experiments and officially joins the ranks, she might just break the mold, looking more like an angel than a monster. You quickly shake off the thought, stifling a grimace at the odd turn your thoughts have taken.

When you risk a quick glance at her, you catch a ghost of a smirk playing on her lips, as if she knows exactly what you were just thinking.

“You’re to oversee Wanda Maximoff’s progress,” Dr. List continues without sparing you a second glance. “Ensure she complies. If she doesn’t…” He lets the threat hang, but you don't need him to spell it out. You know what Hydra does to those who don't meet expectations.

“And the boy?” you ask, genuinely curious about the other twin.

Dr. List gives you a sharp look, like he suspects something. Questions are frowned upon here, but ever since you laid eyes on Wanda, a persistent tingling has crept up the back of your neck.

To put it bluntly, she unnerves you, and you'd much prefer to deal with her brother.

“Strucker decided to…take a more hands-on approach with him,” Dr. List says.

“Understood, sir,” you reply crisply, reaffirming your commitment to your orders. You steal another glance at Wanda, only to feel a rush of heat when you realize she’s been watching you the entire time.

-

Wanda looks even more formidable once she’s showered and changed into fresh clothes. You can’t decide if it’s because the sinister gleam in her eyes remains untouched or because the grime and hardships of life on the streets have been washed away, revealing a haunting beauty beneath the dirt. Clean, she’s striking—but that beauty only makes her more dangerous. You’ve tried to delay any direct interaction with her, but this morning, Dr. List visited to follow up on the initial assessment, leaving you no more time to postpone. After a week of stalling, you’re out of excuses, and there’s a lot of ground to cover.

As she steps out of the small bathroom, her damp hair clings to her shoulders, softening her otherwise sharp features. The moment she becomes aware of your presence, her gaze locks onto you, and she begins to comb the wet tendrils back with her slender fingers. Your hand tightens around your keycard involuntarily as you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that Wanda is just like any other volunteer who entered the organization and never left its walls to see the light of day. Besides, you’re armed, and Wanda is not. It’s ridiculous to be this on edge around someone who's at a disadvantage.

“You,” Wanda murmurs, her accent rolling off her tongue like a slow, winding river.

“Shall we begin?” you ask, keeping your tone even and detached. You can’t afford to let her see how much she frighte—affects you.

Wanda ignores your request. Instead, she tilts her head slightly, studying you with a keenness that makes your skin prickle. You meet her stare, determined not to show any cracks, even though your heart's hammering away.

Finally, she nods—a small, almost imperceptible movement. 

You clear your throat and motion towards the small cot given to them as beds. “Please, have a seat,” you say.

This time, Wanda complies without a word. 

You glance around the room, searching for a seat, and silently berate yourself for not arranging one beforehand. It’s a small oversight, but it makes you feel foolish. With no other option, you settle against the farthest wall, opposite her, and lean against it, though it doesn’t make you feel any more grounded than you did a second ago.

In your hand is a file detailing everything Hydra knows about her, which isn’t much. You open it with a practiced ease, flipping through the pages, but you’re aptly aware of her eyes on you, watching your every move.

“Wanda Maximoff,” you start. “The procedures you're about to undergo are highly experimental. Hydra won't be held responsible for any injuries, no matter if they're permanent or temporary.”

Including death. But you are prohibited from disclosing this to avoid causing panic or stress among the subjects.

Wanda says nothing, her expression unreadable, but you can sense she’s lingering on a thought. Not sure what it is, you go on, falling back on the lines you've memorized these last few months.

“These procedures will enhance your natural abilities, giving you powers beyond what you may or may not currently possess. However, there are risks involved. Do you understand the nature of these risks?”

Wanda nods again. It’s the same answer you’ve received from countless other volunteers, most of whom had no idea what they were truly signing up for. But there’s something different about her, something in the way she holds herself that tells you she knows exactly what she’s getting into—and she’s not afraid.

“There will be a series of physical and psychological evaluations. We will push you to your breaking point and beyond. It is crucial that you cooperate fully. Resistance will only make the process more difficult, both for you and for us.”

You scan her face for any sign of fear or hesitation, but she's a blank slate. It’s as if she’s made peace with whatever fate awaits her here. That bothers you more than you’d care to admit.

“We will also be conducting interviews throughout the process,” you continue. “These will assess your mental state, your thoughts, your fears. Everything you say will be documented, and nothing will be private.”

Wanda's eyes narrow a touch, the first sign of any emotion since she sat down. It’s subtle, but you notice it. Maybe the thought of her mind being picked apart like a lab specimen is getting to her more than the threat of physical harm. Or it could be something else entirely.

“We’ll begin the physical tests tomorrow,” you say, closing the file and hugging it to your chest. “For now, you should rest and eat as much as you like. Your room is monitored constantly. If you need anything, just ask, though your movement around the facility will be restricted.”

The mask of indifference slips back into place. Wanda leans back on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows in a display of casual ease. 

“Do you have any questions?” you ask, mostly because you have to, not because you really want to know. You figure she won't ask anything—most are too scared or too defeated to speak up. 

But Wanda Maximoff isn't most people.

“Why do you do this?”

You can’t help it—a faint smile begins to creep across your face at her question. Most volunteers, when they ask anything at all, are fixated on their own impending ordeal, too scared of what's coming. 

But Wanda isn't asking about herself; she's asking about you. It feels like forever since anyone showed that kind of interest.

Pausing at the doorway, you turn your head just enough for her to see the profile of your face. 

“I do what I'm told,” you say, dodging the deeper question she posed—the real why behind your actions. The truth is, you stopped asking why a long time ago. Reasons tend to blur into excuses when moral lines are crossed in an organization you once trusted.

You're already tapping your keycard against the scanner when Wanda speaks again.

“Will doing what you're told bring them back?”

Her question spins you around so fast it's almost like whiplash. How did Wanda know about that? Was it just a wild guess meant to throw you off? Whatever it was, it worked.

You open your mouth to reply, but the words stick in your throat. You don’t even remember the last time you even thought about them. You've never shared this with anyone—not even Lev. Only a handful of Hydra figures were ever privy to your past.

Wanda couldn't possibly know. Unless—

“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda says, her tone dismissive as she curls into a fetal position, turning her back to you.

If your theory holds, Wanda might be the key Hydra has been searching for—the one who can unlock the powers of the scepter that have eluded so many others. Her apparent ability to read minds could be the very breakthrough Dr. List has been waiting for. 

Finding yourself hesitating to report this discovery surprises you. It’s almost ironic how your conscience decides to kick in now, just when Hydra's goal seems tantalizingly close with the acquisition of the twins. You know what Hydra would do if they realized just how special she is, and the thought of them twisting her into something monstrous is something you can’t even begin to imagine.

-

In the days that follow, you keep quiet about your suspicions regarding Wanda’s innate abilities. You tell yourself that Dr. List will probably uncover them through his experiments soon enough. It’s definitely not because you're worried about what they might do if they decide to fast-track her program.

Yes, you’re just staying out of it, certainly not because you want to protect her.

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself.

-

Your next face-to-face with Wanda comes a week later.

Though you have merely been observing her through a two-way mirror, you've been plagued by sleepless nights since your last meeting, and not even the strongest sedatives at your disposal have helped. Thoughts of her well-being nag at you, despite Hydra's strict rules limiting interaction between volunteers and handlers to prevent any emotional attachments. Such attachments have formed before, and Hydra has always dealt with them ruthlessly.

When you enter her room, she's in the same position as before—curled up on her cot, making herself appear small and almost childlike. She looks up as the door closes behind you, her eyes meeting yours with a quiet recognition. 

As you step closer, the hollowness of her cheeks, the dark circles under her eyes, and her pale complexion are unmistakable. The word weathered hardly does justice to the toll her first week has taken. You know exactly what she’s been through. The tests here aren’t just tests—they’re torture, meant to break people down, body and mind. Even with her powers and confidence, Wanda shows the same signs of strain. She's slight, frail, and clearly, she's had as rough a time as anyone else here.

This time, you come prepared with a metal chair and a freshly prepared tea set next to it, and take a seat across from her.

“How are you holding up?” you ask, although the answer seems painfully obvious.

Wanda shrugs, barely moving, as if the effort to appear okay is too much for her. But then she surprises you.

“How long until Hydra enhances my powers?”

You weren’t expecting that. After everything she’s been through, she’s asking for more? You thought she’d be wary, maybe even broken by now. But the question says otherwise. She’s been through hell, and she’s still pushing forward, demanding more. Is she courting death?

“You seem in a hurry,” you say, hiding your worry behind a soft chuckle. 

Her eyes narrow. “I didn’t come here to wait around. If they want to use me, they need to make me stronger.”

Use me.

How disconcerting. She’s asking for more—more pain, more trials. As if everything she’s endured isn’t enough, as if she needs it to become something greater. It’s reckless and foolish, to say the least.

“We’re moving as fast as we can—”

“Move faster.”

“Wanda,” you say quietly. “What you’re asking for... it could break you.”

“I’m already broken,” she declares, cold and matter-of-fact. “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

It’s only when you notice the disgust in her eyes that you realize you’ve been looking at her with pity. Wanda is about to snap back, likely to tell you she doesn’t need your sympathy, when her expression shifts abruptly to one of curiosity.

She tilts her head, studying you—or maybe, with the mirth in her eye, it’s more like she’s mocking you. 

“You look at me like that again, and I’ll ask you a question,” Wanda says, her voice low, almost a whisper.

You stiffen, uncertain of what's coming next, but before you can say anything, she continues.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

The question startles a laugh out of you, abrupt and a bit too loud—almost like you're trying to convince both yourself and Wanda how absurd she’s being. But as the laughter dies down, you feel your face heat up, your cheeks flushing a telltale red that you can't hide.

“No,” you say, your gaze dropping to the floor as you shake your head. You clasp your hands behind your back, one finger nervously picking at a cuticle. “This isn’t what this is about.”

Wanda smirks slightly, her lips twitching, amused by your discomfort. “Isn't it?” 

For a split second, you start to doubt everything. Did you really want to sleep with her? It's been ages since you've even considered intimacy with anyone—maybe too long. Life here doesn't leave space for that kind of thinking, and even if it did, the situation wouldn't allow it. Your heart's been shattered so often you're sure there's nothing left to give—especially not to someone you've only known for a week.

Wait—love?

This is, at best, lust—nothing more.

“No,” you repeat with more conviction.

Wanda’s smirk fades into a slow, knowing smile. “Fine. Just know the offer stands if you ever change your mind.”

A proposition. It’s not the first time you’ve received one, but this offer sticks with you longer than you’d like. Wanda’s already spent too much time in your thoughts, and you’re desperate to shake her off and get back to the task at hand. But she makes it maddeningly hard to do so.

Without looking at her, you clear your throat and begin the routine interview. You refuse to focus on the fact that she’s just openly considered a physical encounter with you—and you’re definitely not considering it in return. 

“Have you noticed any unusual side effects since the last session? Headaches, nausea, dizziness?” you ask, skipping the pleasantries.

“No,” she says dryly. “No headaches. No nausea. No dizziness.”

You jot down her answers, ignoring her evident disinterest in the proceedings.

“Any changes in your sleep pattern?” you continue.

“No.”

“Any unusual pain or discomfort?” you ask, forcing yourself to meet her gaze, but her focus is on the rings on her fingers. The prisoners—volunteers, you correct yourself—aren't supposed to keep any personal items. It baffles you how she managed to hold on to those cheap pieces of metal and silver.

It takes Wanda a moment to respond. “Just the usual soreness.”

You suspect it's more than just soreness. She’s probably downplaying the pain, so you make a note beside her answer.

“Alright, we’ll keep an eye on that. Any changes in your mood? Irritability, anxiety, anything like that?”

Wanda shrugs. “Depends on the company, I suppose.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Noted. We’ll stick with the same regimen for now. Any concerns or questions about the next phase?”

“What happened to them?” Wanda asks, steering the interview off course.

Annoyance flares up as she probes again, prying into your business. “Don’t you already know?” you snap, your patience wearing thin.

But Wanda doesn’t even blink. She isn’t scared, and that just irks you even more. She should be, if she knew what you’ve done to others who’ve pushed your buttons. You’ve never hesitated to throw your weight around with those who make your job harder.

“Sometimes what really happened and how we remember it are two entirely different stories,” she says, taking a deep breath before she continues. “Our mind protects us from the truth. It obscures what’s real, and what’s not becomes all we remember.”

You're stone-still, your mind drifting back to the past Wanda keeps prodding at. You don't even have a picture of your family anymore. Their voices are gone from your memory, and you're barely holding onto their faces. It used to tear you apart, thinking about them, but now there's just emptiness. You realize Wanda can’t rattle you—she has no leverage because there’s nothing left inside you to disrupt.

You’ve got nothing.

“Y/N?” Wanda presses, her features tightening with concern. 

You consider throwing her blunt words right back at her, but you hold off. Instead, you set the clipboard down on the counter with a soft clack. Turning to the medical cart, you grab a tray of needles and tools, then bring it over to her bed. Wanda's eyes widen slightly, and she scoots back as you sit down on the edge of the mattress. It’s satisfying to finally see her react with something other than that usual smug, unshakable attitude. You pick up a syringe, fill it with a bright yellow liquid from an unmarked bottle, and swipe a cotton ball soaked in alcohol over the top.

“What’s that?” Wanda asks evenly, though you can detect traces of doubt in it that suggest she’s trying to put up a brave front. 

“Supplements.”

Wanda raises a skeptical brow. 

You lift the syringe slightly, letting it catch the light so she can see exactly what you’re holding.

“May I?” you gesture toward her arm.

Wanda eyes you warily, then gives a quick nod.

With her consent, you scoot closer until your knees almost touch. You gently roll up the sleeve of her scrubs, exposing her arm. This close, you can see the goosebumps on her skin and feel the slight tremors running through her. You hadn't noticed before, but she's shivering—not from the cold, but probably from a fever.

Instinctively, you press your palm against her forehead. Wanda flinches but doesn’t pull away. Slowly, she settles into your touch and lets out a small sigh.

“You're hot,” you blurt out, and then quickly realize the unintended double entendre. Fortunately, Wanda lets it pass without comment. You retract your hand and hold the syringe up to her arm, poised but something stops you.

“What are you waiting for?” Wanda prompts impatiently.

You're thinking of straying from the usual protocol, knowing the yellow meds might worsen Wanda's condition, especially with her fever spiking. Deciding against it, you put the syringe down and grab another bottle off the cart, this one filled with a clear liquid.

“Change of plans,” you murmur, prepping the new syringe. You nod at her for her arm, and she shifts closer, making it easier for you. When you depress the plunger, it's quick—so quick that Wanda barely feels the needle's prick.

You pull out the needle and press a small bandage onto the spot. “All done,” you announce.

Wanda massages her arm, feeling no real pain at the injection site. “T-Thanks,” she murmurs softly.

You acknowledge her gratitude with a nod and start collecting your notebook and tools. As you rise to leave, Wanda's hand shoots out, her fingers wrapping around your wrist urgently. You turn, meeting her striking, green eyes.

“I’m sorry about your family,” she murmurs quietly. Her words solidify your suspicion: she came to Hydra with powers already in tow. Mind reading or memory extraction would be invaluable to Hydra, and now, with even more power at your fingertips, you find yourself hesitating to use it.

If Dr. List catches wind of your hesitations, the reprisals will be brutal.

You glance down pointedly at where she's holding your hand, but Wanda doesn’t let go.

“It was a long time ago,” you whisper.

“Time doesn't really heal that kind of loss,” she says, still holding onto you.

“No, but you learn to live with it,” you reply, feeling the truth of your own words.

Wanda's hold slackens but remains. You feel awkward standing there, yet something holds you back from pulling away. You hadn't realized until now how starved you were for such a simple, human connection.

“I lost my parents the same way,” she shares.

“I'm sorry,” you say, and you really mean it. You can't read Wanda like she seems to read you, but in this brief moment, with the walls down, you decide to ask, “Is that why you came to us? To avenge your parents?”

Wanda's grip loosens completely, and she lets go of your wrist. You rub the spot where her fingers were, still feeling the warmth she left behind.

“‘Avenge’,” she spits out. She draws her knees to her chest and hugs them close. “I hate that word. Pietro and I, we're here to stop them. I wish… I wish they’d just leave Sokovia alone. They won’t leave because we can’t fight back.”

Your own past with Hydra comes to mind as she speaks. Back then, you joined because you were out of options. No country to fight for, no people to call yours. It strikes you how different Wanda's motivations are—rooted in something far more personal and noble. She deserves more than what Hydra can offer. 

Wanda looks at you, waiting for an answer. When you don't say anything, she pushes, “Do you think we made the right decision coming here?”

You're all too aware of Hydra’s real agenda. They're not about peace. They're here to extend their control, to bend the world around their so-called divine mission. 

“Sometimes, you don't know if it’s the right choice until it's too late to change it,” you say, knowing it’s not much of an answer. It's just the bitter truth you've come to know. It's all you can offer Wanda.

“Can you do me a favor, Y/N? Will you look after Pietro?”

The same way you’ve been looking out for me, Wanda thinks to herself, relieved that there’s only one telepath in the room.

“No promises,” you say.

Wanda gives a slight nod and starts to withdraw again. She settles back down on the cot, turning away from you, the conversation clearly over.

-

Lev sneaks into your room just before midnight, the door giving a soft creak as it swings open. Though friends, you typically keep to your own spaces. You blink sleepily at him, fighting to sit up and shake off the grogginess.

“Dr. List decided to skip ahead,” Lev says in a rush, closing the door with a gentle click. “He’s moved forward with exposing the twins to the scepter.”

“When?” You're wide awake now, sitting bolt upright in bed.

Lev’s eyes dart to the small window in your room before returning to you, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard. “An hour ago.”

That can’t be good. It’s far sooner than anyone had anticipated. Dr. List’s decision to advance the timeline without further testing could have unpredictable consequences. You swing your legs off the bed, your brain ticking through the possible scenarios.

“What’s the status now? How did Wan—the twins react?” you ask, grabbing your jacket and shoes and throwing them on without taking your eyes off Lev.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. They rushed them to the Observation Chamber right after the exposure. Everything’s been kept under wraps.”

You pace a few steps, mulling over your next move. Exposure to the scepter has been lethal for everyone. Even with Wanda's unique abilities, there’s no guarantee she’ll pull through when others haven't.

“We need more information. Can you get access to the observation logs?”

Lev nods, though his expression shows his apprehension. “I’ll try. But security has been tighter since the exposure.”

You catch the anxious twist of his mouth at the idea of sneaking around, and choose to spare him the risk. His relief is palpable when you tell him, “I'll handle it myself.”

He sighs in relief. “Be careful…”

Only a select few can get into the Observation Chamber, and your badge isn’t on that list. You're going to need something stronger than just caution.

-

You slip your underwear back on, feeling Laura’s eyes tracing the contours of your body. 

After Lev left, you headed straight for her. Laura Brown, the Hydra director's daughter, hadn't seen you in almost a year, but the nature of your previous encounters left little doubt she'd be open to reconnecting.

Laura reclines on the bed, a sheet loosely draped around her, smirking as she watches you.  “I knew you'd come back eventually,” she purrs, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes.

You straighten up, deliberately avoiding her eyes as you button your shirt. “I need a favor, Laura.” 

She leans back against the headboard, the sheet falling to her waist and revealing her bare chest. “This sounds serious.”

“I need to get into the Observation Chamber. Tonight,” you say. You despise asking her—or anyone, really—for favors, but you need to see Wanda. It's imperative.

Laura's eyebrows go up, her smile growing. “Direct and desperate. What's in it for me?”

“What do you want?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.

She thinks it over, then answers, “Keep me company tonight, no strings attached. Just like the old days.”

“Done.”

Laura claps her hands, clearly pleased, and tosses you the badge from the bedside table. 

You pick it up, feeling a bit degraded, like you're picking up coins someone's thrown your way. “I'll be right back,” you promise.

-

The guards give you weird looks as you show up at the Observation Chamber. They had clear orders: only Dr. List or Baron Strucker can go in. But dropping the director’s daughter’s name does the trick. You flash her badge and they let you pass, no more questions asked.

The hallway is pitch-black. This place had been sleeping until now, woken up by the fact that Pietro and Wanda Maximoff hadn’t died like the others who met the scepter. Clearly labeled doors mark the new, grim function of the space.

You think about heading straight to Wanda's room, but you remember her earlier request and decide to check on Pietro first.

The soft beeping of monitors greets you as soon as you step inside his room. He's in rough shape, alive but barely hanging on. You quickly check the chart posted next to the door—it shows low blood pressure and a high dosage of Epinephrine administered, with a note that his chances of survival stand at only 57% as of 11:30 PM.

He looks much thinner and more worn than the last time you saw him, his condition evidently worse. His eyes are bloodshot, his skin pale and stretched tight over his bones. As you move closer, you notice his body trembling, a sheen of sweat covering him despite the room's chill.

Quickly, you pull the extra covers from beneath his bed and wrap them around him, trying to stabilize his shivering. Then, you snag a water bottle from a nearby stand, helping him take slow, measured sips. 

Pietro looks at you, his eyes filled with confusion and pain, struggling to form the words. “Who are you?”

“Just someone who made your sister a promise,” you say, scooping up some water in your palm and gently drizzling it over his head. Pietro sighs in relief. “Get some rest now, and try not to die.”

His eyes flutter shut in seconds, his breath smoothing out as sleep claims him. You linger just a moment to make sure he's really out, then hurry off towards Wanda's room. Your heart pounds in your chest, fear pulsing through you. Pietro was in rough shape; how bad might Wanda be? You cling to a shred of hope that she's holding up better.

The air stays heavy as you enter Wanda’s quarters. You tread lightly, making sure not to disturb her sleep, and check the medical chart by her bed. Unlike Pietro’s dire prognosis, Wanda's stats are steady, but still troubling. Her breaths are regular, without the distressing shivers that torment her brother.

What strikes you is how normal, how peacefully she's sleeping, despite her recent exposure to Loki’s scepter. 

Relieved to see her condition isn’t more severe, you end up at the foot of her bed. There isn’t much to do after confirming she’s stable, and you know you should head back to Laura. But leaving Wanda’s side proves difficult once you're there. Almost immediately, your mind floods with ideas on how to get her out of Hydra’s clutches. If they fully realized her potential, it wouldn't just be dangerous for her—it'd be catastrophic for anyone in their path. Internally, you start plotting escape routes and thinking about who might be willing to help.

It’s strange to think how you went from one of Hydra’s most devoted agents to scheming against them.

Lost in your plans, you're jolted back to the present when you feel a gentle nudge against your thigh. Wanda's foot is pressing against you. She's awake. You look up to find her eyes open, wary and searching.

“Y/N,” she murmurs, her voice raspy from lack of use. “What—what happened?”

You subtly shift on the bed, making sure her toes aren't touching you anymore. You're not sure when you became so acutely aware of Wanda’s proximity, or of the points where your bodies meet.

“What do you remember before all this?” you ask.

She rubs her forehead, straining to recall. “There was a room... a stone emerging from the scepter. Bright lights… then nothing.”

You nod, already knowing half of what Wanda just told you. This is the first time anyone has lived to tell about their experience with the scepter, and you were hoping for more insights into how it unleashes its power. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about trying it yourself, wondering if you could resist its effects. Being Hydra, curiosity about power was a constant temptation.

“You weren't supposed to be exposed to the scepter yet,” you admit quietly. “Dr. List sped things up, maybe because he suspected—”

“Pietro,” she cuts in, her thoughts finally catching up. “Was he exposed to it too?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes widen, clouded with worry. “Is he okay?”

“He’s alive,” you say. “I just saw him before coming here. He's stable, but it’s precarious.”

Wanda’s face crumples as soon as the words leave your lips. Before you can react, she throws her arms around you, her face buried in your shoulder. You freeze for a moment, uncertain how to respond. It’s been so long since you’ve held someone like this, since you’ve allowed yourself to care enough to even consider it. But then you feel it—tears, warm and wet against your neck. She’s crying.

After a moment, you hesitantly wrap your arms around her, holding her as she trembles against you. You can feel her fear, her desperation. It cuts through your defenses, the ones you’ve built so carefully over the years.

You tighten your hold on her, offering what little comfort you can, but inside, you’re battling your own fear. You can’t afford to care about her this much—not here, not now. But as you hold her, feeling every shake of her body, you know it’s already too late.

Wanda's sobs slowly subside, and you pull back slightly, intent on offering some kind of reassurance despite how foreign it feels to you. You reach up, brushing away her tears with your thumb, trying to find the right words, but they don’t come. Instead, as your hand lingers on her cheek, she pins you with a quiet stare. Before you realize what’s happening, Wanda leans in and presses her lips softly against yours.

The kiss is brief, just a fraction of a second, but it leaves you utterly breathless. She pulls back almost immediately, watching you, waiting to see how you’ll react. For a heartbeat, you're stunned, but then something ignites inside you, something you’ve been holding back without even recognizing it. 

Acting on pure impulse, you reach up, grasp the back of her neck, and pull her in for another kiss. In an instant, you take control effortlessly, letting the animalistic and Hydra part of you come to the forefront. Your thumb presses roughly against her chin, coaxing her mouth open, and you slide your tongue in, staking your claim. Wanda responds with a gasp, her hands clutching at your shoulders, but you’re too far gone to think about anything except the taste of her, the way her body molds against yours.

You tilt her head back, deepening the kiss further, your other hand sliding down to grip her waist, pulling her closer still. The feel of her, the heat of her skin under your fingers, it’s intoxicating, and you can’t get enough. You've never allowed yourself to want someone this much. Just as you think you can't hold back any longer, Wanda's hand captures yours and guides it under her shirt. You're startled to find out she's wearing nothing underneath when your knuckles brush against her hardened nipple. That unexpected discovery is what compels you to pull back.

Wanda's lips leave yours with a wet sound, and she begins kissing down your jaw to your neck.

“Wanda, wait—”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” she says. Her breath is hot against your skin, and you feel her tongue trace a line up to your pulse point, leaving a fiery trail that makes you shiver. “You can claim your reward, you can have me.”

Her words snap you out of the haze, that single word—reward—ringing in your ears like a warning bell. You quickly place your hands on her shoulders, pushing her back gently but firmly.

Wanda blinks, confusion and hurt flashing in her eyes as she looks up at you. “What’s wrong?” She knows she’s attractive and has already glimpsed your desire for her during your visits, reading it in your thoughts. It’s why she finds your rejection so absurd—frustrating, even, given her openness.

“I'm not here for that,” you say, your voice coming out rougher than you intended.

“Then why are you here?”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks, unaccustomed to openly discussing your feelings. “I came to see how you're doing after... after the scepter.”

“I'm fine,” she answers flatly.

You nod, still feeling the residual heat of her closeness. “Do you feel any different?” you ask, partly out of concern but mostly to shift the conversation elsewhere.

“I'm just tired,” Wanda says, closing her eyes and running a hand through her tousled dark hair. “Can we do this tomorrow?” She sounds a bit let down, assuming you're here just for a routine check—looking for any new powers or changes—as if she had hoped for something more personal.

“I'm sorry,” you quickly say. “I’m not here on any official orders. In fact, I shouldn't even be here.”

This revelation softens her look, her eyes narrowing slightly with renewed interest.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, “I'm working on getting you and Pietro out of here. It's not set yet, but—”

“Out of here?” Wanda cuts in, her eyebrows knitting together in puzzlement. “Why would I want to leave?” 

“You got what you came for, right? The power of the scepter? Now you can leave. Hydra isn’t what you think,” you explain, trying to make her see the danger.

“Look who's acting all self-righteous all of a sudden. You've been here for years, and I've seen you do things,” she retorts sharply.

“Stop looking into my mind,” you snap, irritated by her knack for sifting through your thoughts without permission and using your past against you. Just because she can doesn’t mean she should.

“You’re saying I’m wrong?” she sneers.

You shake your head. “Look, I’m just trying to help—”

“If you really want to help, just do your job.”

Her words hit you harder than any physical blow could. You knew better than to let someone get this close, to allow your emotions to cloud your judgment. But there’s no one to blame here but yourself. Wanda didn't even have to do much to earn your solicitude; it was your own doing, your own need to make things right that led you here. 

Hydra’s training kicks in like second nature, and you shut down the emotions before they can show, your face hardening into a mask.

“Alright, Wanda. I'll do just that.”

-

It’s easier the second time you’re with Laura that night.

After Wanda's dismissal, you find Laura’s body to be the comfort you need. You lose yourself in her, the way she responds to every touch, every move you make. Pushing everything else from your mind, you focus solely on her, making her come again and again until she’s too bone-tired to do anything but black out beside you.

After it's over, you slip out of her bed, leaving her to sleep off the night’s weariness, and return to your room. You don't think about Wanda. Not even once.

In the following days, Wanda's recovery is swift—too swift for your level of clearance. Dr. List decides she’s beyond your oversight and assigns her to a higher clearance team. You’re left dealing with new recruits, volunteers who are eager yet naïve, none of whom survive the brutal exposure to the scepter. Each failure hardens you a little more, cements the necessity of detachment. 

But even with countless deaths on their hands, Hydra doesn't back down. If anything, they’re more driven now, hungry for more power, spurred on by the success of the twins. Pietro develops superhuman speed, a skill Hydra quickly puts to use by dispatching him to enemy territories for intel. Wanda’s abilities become more varied, showing signs of what could be categorized as psionic powers. She demonstrates capabilities that suggest telekinesis, manipulating objects without touching them, and telepathy—which she employs at her whim. 

Sometimes you wonder if she ever peeks into your mind anymore. But then, with the kind of power she wields, why would she even bother with what you're thinking? You're not special. Not even your badge, which doesn't get you into sections of the base without currying favor with Laura Brown first.

The Sokovian base is sprawling, and encounters with either of the Maximoff twins are rare but unavoidable. Pietro remembers your visit that night. Now and then, he nods at you politely. Wanda, on the other hand, acts as if you don’t exist. If you pass her in the hallways, she looks through you as if you're invisible. So, you make it a point to stay out of her way, blending into the dull walls and shadows as much as you can.

This detachment suits you in a way. It allows you to focus on your duties, on surviving one day at a time in an environment where the stakes are always high and the consequences often lethal.

It leaves you with nothing to lose, because there's no one left to lose.

-

Weeks pass quietly until rumors start floating around that Wanda's been seeing someone inside the complex. It’s hard to call it dating, really, since concepts like love and trust struggle to take root in a place as bleak as this. It’s probably just two people keeping each other company through the colder nights. Still, you can’t shake off how much this bothers you. 

But it's not surprising. The twins' popularity has only grown, especially since, months later, no one else has matched their extraordinary feat of surviving an Infinity Stone—a term you picked up only after Hydra discovered what was really behind Loki's scepter.

Sometimes, you find yourself observing Wanda from afar, trying to figure out if there’s any substance to the rumors. Who makes her laugh? Who does she choose to sit with at meals? The more you notice your own scrutiny, the more you recognize a feeling of jealousy stirring within you, an emotion that’s prevalent among your peers but not in this regard. You're bewildered and annoyed by your own reaction—why should who Wanda spends time with matter to you? Whatever she does, whoever she fucks—it's none of your business.

You hate this feeling, but you combat it by heading to Laura’s room every night, as if she’s the cure you need to keep yourself in check.

-

“They’ll betray us someday,” Lev murmurs as you both amble through the dense woods, taking a rare break from the base for a smoke. He breathes out slowly, watching the smoke curl upwards. You don’t have to ask to know he’s talking about the twins.

“No sooner than Hydra will throw us under the bus when the Avengers show up,” you reply, stepping around a fallen branch. “We’re all expendable. You know that, right?”

Lev takes a deep drag, his gaze fixed on the trail ahead. “Yeah, I know,” he says at last, releasing a plume of smoke. There’s something in his eyes, a look that tells you he’s not saying all he could about the twins.

You eye him suspiciously. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Lev glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he's deciding how much to share. After a moment, he nods.

“Okay, I wasn't planning on telling you this yet, but I've been handed a special assignment—the Maximoff Contingency Plan,” he reveals.

You scoff at him. “You’re the contingency plan?” 

“No, not just me,” Lev chuckles darkly as he tosses his cigarette to the ground and stomps it out. “I'm involved, but it's more than that. We're working on a weapon, one that borrows from the tech of the Infinity Stone.”

The seriousness of what he's saying sinks in. Leveraging the power of an Infinity Stone means they're not messing around.

“And what's this weapon supposed to do?” you ask, not sure if you want to hear the answer.

Lev’s expression darkens. “You know what weapons are supposed to do,” he says tersely, turning to head back. “Let’s go.”

Hydra does not tolerate treachery. Even the mildest punishment is a swift death—a quick end, but an end all the same.

-

It’s only a matter of time before the Avengers find the Sokovian Base. Tensions had been mounting and Hydra's movements had become increasingly aggressive, drawing unwanted attention. When it all goes down, you’re in your room, scrambling to suit up and arm yourself with pistols—not to confront the Avengers, who are essentially gods, but to fight for your way out.

As the base descends into turmoil, you hear that Wanda and Pietro are attempting to escape. Hydra has a ruthless protocol for such situations: eliminate the entire unit to prevent any leaks. It's cleaner to destroy and rebuild than to let loose ends compromise the organization. Knowing about the contingency plan to eliminate the twins, you grab your radio and contact Lev, asking where he is.

“You’re just in time. I need backup. I've got Wanda Maximoff in my sights, waiting for the right moment to take her down,” he radios back.

“On it, I’m with you,” you reply, feeling the sweat bead on your forehead as you move toward his location. When you get there, you find Lev, poised and ready, his eyes fixed on the target through the scope of his rifle. You scan the surroundings, looking for hazards until you spot Wanda among the debris. Iron Man's missiles have turned the area into a deadly maze of flying rocks. From her fingertips, streams of red magic swirl, skillfully steering the massive boulders away from crushing both Hydra agents and civilians.

Wanda isn’t trying to escape—she’s helping fend them off. Seeing her save these lives, something inside you breaks. Lev has his rifle aimed at her, ready to pull the trigger while she's busy playing the hero. The possible outcomes flash through your mind: Wanda dead or imprisoned by the Avengers. The thought is unbearable. You've spent months pretending you didn't care, but now, faced with the reality of losing her, you realize all you want is for her to live, to be free—something you've long given up for yourself.

You're about to dissuade Lev, to argue her worth, her potential, anything to stall, when an explosion nearby startles Wanda. She turns, momentarily distracted, and Lev's finger tightens on the trigger, ready to end it all.

But you're faster.

He collapses with a shocked gasp, the life leaving his eyes as he hits the ground. The noise of his body falling draws Wanda’s attention. She turns just in time to see what you've done—for her. Her eyes, wide and questioning, boring into yours.

Why did you save me? They seem to ask you, those green orbs that have hunted you ever since you looked into them. There's no time for lengthy explanations—not that you have a solid one anyway. But with each passing second, the chance of escaping undetected by these so-called superheroes dwindles.

“You need to leave, now!” you yell at her, but she doesn't budge. Instead, she looks at you, really looks at you, for the first time with something other than disdain. It’s the same look she gave you the night the scepter awakened her powers. It’s a look that tells you that maybe she’s been pretending too, these past few months.

You’re about to sprint toward her, to drag her to safety if you have to, when a blur of motion sweeps her away. Pietro appears out of nowhere, whisking them both out of the base before the Avengers close in. 

For a second, you're left standing there, surrounded by the wreckage and the friend you just betrayed and killed. There's no time to grieve, no time to second-guess leaving his body behind—it's pure instinct that forces you to move quickly. You head towards an exit known only to the most important figures of the organization, a piece of information you picked up from Laura. She wouldn’t have given it away if you weren’t frequently sleeping together, those personal liaisons caused by trying to forget Wanda.  

It’s strange, in a way, how you both just ended up saving each other.

-

Several weeks after the Avengers demolish the Sokovian base, Wanda finds you at a small cabin you own on the outskirts of Novi Grad. The modest structure sits on a 2-acre plot near the woods—a spot you picked up when your stint in Sokovia stretched past thirteen months. You never really planned on settling here; you thought you’d be moved to another location and sell this land at a profit eventually. But life, it seems, had other plans.

You’re chopping wood beside the cabin when you feel her presence. Dropping the axe, you straighten up and spot her at the edge of the clearing. Your eyes quickly sweep her surroundings for any sign of Pietro, but it appears she has come alone.

“Why did you do it?” she asks once she's close enough. You take a few moments to take her in, hardly believing she's actually here, and touched by the thought that she sought you out. You've missed her presence, even though the last few months have only found you both inhabiting the same compound, breathing the same air but never speaking. 

Sometimes, lying in bed at night, you wonder why you can’t shake Wanda from your thoughts. You’ve even entertained the idea that she might have hexed you, that her magic has somehow ensnared your mind and… maybe your heart. It seems like the only logical explanation, because since the day you met, Wanda has never really left your mind.

“I did what I thought was right,” you finally answer, tucking your hands inside your pockets, not knowing what else to do with them.

“He was your friend,” Wanda points out softly. 

Your lips curl into a strained smile; of course, she’d know. She knows things about you that you'd never voice out loud. Wanda’s ability to read minds makes hiding anything impossible. Does she understand how deeply you care for her? She must. Wanda has always seen right through you, so why does she need to ask?

“Did you ever think about me after that night?” she asks out of nowhere. The night the Infinity Stone changed everything, when you were closer to her than you’d ever been before.

You're taken aback by her directness. This, too, she probably knows the answer to because you've thought of little else. 

“Everyday,” you say.

That night, you invite her to your home, the first person ever to share the space you once believed would always be just yours. Your living room is snug, with a three-seater couch and a medium-sized TV mounted on the wall. There’s also a fireplace that lights up the space with an amber glow as you hand Wanda a cup of hot chocolate.

You and Wanda find yourselves chatting about lighter topics. She shares her favorite shows from childhood, and you're surprised to learn she’s a big fan of American sitcoms. You enjoyed them too when you were younger, but not to the extent that you'd watch entire seasons over and over like Wanda did. Your preference leaned more toward books, gobbling up Agatha Christie novels when you were younger.

While you're in the middle of sharing a particularly funny memory from one of those old sitcom episodes, Wanda suddenly leans in and kisses you. Though your first instinct is to dive back into the kiss, you pull back instead. The last time you were this close, things escalated quickly before they crashed and burned.

“Are you sure?” you ask, searching her eyes for an answer. Learning from past mistakes, you want to make sure it's what she really wants.

She nods, her eyes steady and invitingly dark. “I’m sure.”

You close the distance between you, kissing her to your heart’s content. Before long, clothes are discarded, and you move from the couch to the bed, leisurely exploring each other, discovering how to bring one another to new heights of pleasure. 

As you lie next to her afterward, breathless and tangled in the sheets, you realize there’s no way to pretend anymore—you care too much to go back.

-

The quiet doesn’t last long. 

Tony Stark’s experiment goes awry, giving rise to Ultron—a global threat with ambitions that soon become clear. It seeks to bring about what he perceives as peace, by any means necessary. And just when you thought you and Wanda might have found some peace, she tells you she’s joining Ultron.

“It’s too dangerous,” you tell her. The twins and a robot against the entire Avengers team? The numbers alone put the odds against them. “We can stay here, help the people around us, and actually make a real difference.”

She shakes her head, her jaw set. “You don’t get it,” she argues. “You never will. You’re not…”

Special. Go ahead, Wanda, say it. Say what you really think of me.

“...you don’t have powers. You don’t know what it’s like to be able to change things and then just stand by, powerless.”

You were bracing for it, but it hurts all the same.

“So what am I then, Wanda? Just a bystander? Someone not worth listening to because I don't have powers?”

“I’m saying I have to do this,” Wanda mutters solemnly. “I’m the only one who can do this.”

You can see in her eyes that she’s already made up her mind. You’re still racking up your brain for something that might make a difference but she speaks again.

“I’m doing this for Sokovia,” she says quietly. “For everyone who's suffered because of Stark.”

You say nothing. Her fierce loyalty is one of the things you adore about her.

Wanda steps closer, her hand reaching out to touch your face, her thumb tracing the line of your jaw. “I’ll come back,” she promises. “When this is over, I’ll come back to you.”

You nod, resigned to the reality that you must let her go. “I’ll be here,” you say, your voice thick with regret that you can’t do more to protect her, to make sure she’s safe. “Waiting for you, right here.”

-

Pietro Maximoff dies riddled with bullet wounds—over a dozen of them. You learn the details of his death through a tabloid, days after witnessing Novi Grad being torn from the ground. 

A week later, Wanda comes back to you, just as she promised, but she’s not the same. The light in her eyes is gone, replaced by a ghostly void. It’s a look you know all too well, the same one you’ve seen staring back at you in the mirror for years.

A loss of purpose.

In the days that follow, you try to restore some normalcy, but nothing feels right. You cook meals she barely touches, sit beside her during long stretches of silence, and listen when she occasionally finds the strength to talk. It's tough, seeing her struggle, but you stay by her side, hoping things will begin to heal.

But they don’t.

Every day, you see it—the guilt, the pain, the loss. She tries to find reasons to keep going, but nothing seems to hold. And as much as you want to be the one to help her, to pull her out of this darkness, you know you're not enough. Not this time.

Wanda is adrift, and no matter how hard you try, you can’t anchor her to this life you’re trying to build. She’s lost her brother, her home, and whatever sense of justice she thought she could achieve by joining Ultron. And you—you’ve been running from your past for so long, and you’re simply tired of it.

You start thinking about what’s best for her, about what she needs to move on and find a new purpose. Deep down, you recognize that maybe the best way for her to truly heal is if you step aside.

-

Like Wanda, you don’t trust Stark. So, with the skills you’ve honed during your time with Hydra, you manage to find a way to contact Steve Rogers instead.

The conversation happens one afternoon, over a phone call. You tell him everything—your past with Hydra, the things you’ve done, and why you’re ready to turn yourself in. He listens without interrupting, letting you confess everything. You mention that Wanda's with you, and make it clear this isn't about trying to reclaim some lost sense of patriotism. You're doing it for her.

“You did the right thing by coming to me,” Steve says when you finish. “Wanda has so much potential. She deserves a chance to become who she’s meant to be.”

“I know,” you reply, your voice dropping to a whisper. You’ve known it all along, perhaps better than anyone. It’s why you’re doing this, even though it feels like tearing yourself apart.

Over the course of the conversation, you and Steve work out an agreement. You’ll serve a reduced sentence in exchange for all the intel you have on the remaining Hydra heads still out there. You’ll act as an informant, helping to bring them to an end, once and for all. And maybe, after you’ve paid your dues, there’ll be a chance for you to live something close to a normal life. When the call ends, you're washed over with a feeling of real freedom, despite knowing it might cost you Wanda all over again.

Later that night, you find Wanda in the kitchen, stirring a pot and humming a tune you don't recognize, looking more alive than she has in weeks. Seeing her like this is bittersweet; she’s here, but soon, you might not be.

She notices you and gives a small, relieved smile. “You’re back,” she says.

“Yeah, I had a craving for this specific brand of red wine…” You say, tossing out a casual lie since you did swing by the grocery store, and errands are a regular part of your routine.

“Red wine?” Wanda perks up. “Perfect, I’m just about done with dinner. It should pair nicely.”

The kitchen smells foreign but amazing, and you can't help but compliment her. “It smells incredible in here,” you say as you start setting the table. 

Wanda smiles softly as she turns down the stove and grabs a bowl to serve. You set out two wine glasses and place them on the table.

You pour a generous amount of red wine into each glass and watch as Wanda carries the meal over. 

“Thanks for dinner,” you say with genuine appreciation.

“Try it and tell me what you think,” she urges, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she watches you with anticipation.

You take a bite, the flavors unique and perfectly blended. Looking up, you see her watching you, eager for your reaction.

“Well?” she asks impatiently.

You laugh, then wipe the corners of your mouth with your thumb. “Don't you already know?” you tease, hinting at her telepathic abilities.

Wanda pretends to be offended, crossing her arms. “I haven’t read your mind in a long time.”

You can’t help but be a little skeptical of her claim. “Since when?”

Wanda blinks, her gaze veering away as she hesitates, clearly not eager to revisit the memory. 

You give her a gentle nudge, mimicking her earlier prodding “Well?”

Wanda turns to face you, her bottom lip pushed out slightly in a pout. “Since I saw you were sleeping with the director’s daughter.”

Saw? Did she see everything I did with Laura? The thought that Wanda witnessed it all like a scene playing out in front of her makes your stomach twist. You blush, mortified. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” you mumble, looking away.

Wanda shakes her head, trying to dispel her lingering jealousy. “I shouldn't have been peering into your head that much to begin with,” she says softly.

Your ears catch on a particular phrase. “‘That much’?” 

It’s Wanda’s turn to blush, her cheeks flushing deeper as she quickly downs the rest of her wine and then holds out her glass for a refill. Deciding to show some mercy, you pour her another glass without prying further. The conversation stalls into an awkward silence until you finally decide to break it by giving your verdict on the dinner.

“By the way, this is delicious,” you say, adding another serving to your plate.

Wanda's face lights up, her smile stretching so wide that she looks almost like a giddy child. But then, she is young. You can’t help but imagine how she'll fit in with them. Steve, in particular, seems like he’d be good for her. Even though you don't know him well, that one phone call was enough to get a sense of his character and leadership. He seems like the kind of guy who'd really look out for Wanda, in ways you can't.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” Wanda suddenly asks.

Your smile falls a little, but you manage to keep it there. You wish she could read your mind now, that she could understand the choices you’ve made today better than you could ever explain them. You’re not abandoning her—you’re setting her free from this life. You've done too many unspeakable things to ever truly deserve a quiet life with her. Eventually, your past will catch up to you, and the opportunity for Wanda to do something good might slip away if she’s still tied to you. You wish she could see how much you care for her, how much she’s changed you. Because of her, you’ve felt the desire to be good again, to be human again. To open yourself not just to grief, but also to love.

You wish—

“Maybe we can visit that lake you mentioned? I've spent my whole life in Sokovia but never really left Novi Grad,” Wanda suggests.

“Rain check?” you say, trying your best to sound like tomorrow isn’t goodbye. Steve wanted to move quickly, and you’ll be expecting him and a small squad tomorrow, no later than noon. “I’m thinking I might just stay in, catch up on some reading.”

Wanda cocks her head, a puzzled look on her face. You’ve been the one pushing her to get out of the cabin more, so your answer isn’t what she’s expecting. But she likes the idea. She just wants to spend time with you. The hole Pietro left in her heart is only bearable when she’s with you.

“Okay,” she mumbles, starting to clear the dishes. You place a hand over hers, silently telling her you’ll take care of it later. Leaning in, you plant a soft kiss on her lips.

“You want to go to bed early?” you whisper quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

She looks up at you, a playful gasp escaping her lips. 

“Just to sleep,” you add quickly. I just want to hold you all night, one last time.

“I might not be sleepy right off the bat, maybe if you tire me out—”

“Naughty,” you chuckle softly, giving her nose a gentle tap.

“You love it.”

“I—” Love you. You want to say it, but you don’t want to make it harder for you both when the time comes.

Without another word, you grab her hand, holding on to this moment, to her, for as long as you can.