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pretty-little-mind33 · 9 months ago

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James Potter x fem!reader / Pietro Maxmioff x fem!reader

Summary: Nothing is as it seems.

Prompt: "You look familiar. Where do I know you from?"

Warnings: crossover au, death, pietro, reader, and james are all sixteen, ending is very much up to interpretation (open-ended lol), confusing on purpose 😉

~ @simp-for-fictional-people this is SO niche and so different then anything I usually write! i hope this is what you wanted, lovie!! ~

ps: while i personally fan-cast James as Aaron Taylor-Johnson in my head and use him for headers, i try and write his physical descriptions more ambiguously in my other james works because i know there are plenty of other amazing James fan-casts (including poc!james, which i really love)! however, for this story's purposes, he's supposed to look like pietro 😁 ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

Dead.

The word rings in your ears but you don't register it. You slide through the rubble, knees scraping the pavement to reach him. Alive? You hope as you see a glimmer of those blue eyes you love so much behind the strands of silver. You whisper his name, the letters feeling wrong on your tongue as you kneel beside him.

You see the blood seeping through his costume and your heart sinks. Dead. Dead. Dead. It's a taunting chant as you push him up to lean his head on your knees, pushing his hair away from his eyes. His eyes, which are staring at you but there's no life behind them anymore.

"No," your voice is shaky as you clutch him, your skin vibrating as your vision blurs. "No. No. No. No," you chant to counter the voice in your head. You bend over and kiss his forehead. No response. You try his cheek as tears stream down your cheeks. "Pietro," you plead, "wake up."

Anger courses your veins as his blood stains your hands. Your head is pounding so loudly you can barely think.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.

The team calls your name. You feel like the world around you is spinning as you feel your powers acting up as you hold him closer to you, crushing his face into your chest as you sob. You feel hot and misplaced as your head is throbbing.

Your name is screamed again but this time, you can't even see them as a blinding green light surrounds you, catching the gimmer on your wrist—the small silver bracelet Pietro had given you for your sixteenth birthday—and you fall unconscious. Your head hits the pavement, making everything turn dark.

His hand touches yours, the background blurry. He looks like a carefree kid again, those rosy cheeks so full of life and future. "Y/n/n, wake up," Pietro whispers, grinning as you stare into his blue eyes. "Wake up now."

You startle awake, sitting up as your chest heaves. You blink, dried tears still on your cheeks. You glance around the room, it looks ancient. You're dressed in clothes you don't immediately recognize as your head continues to throb.

From your bedside, a boy jumps up. He's wearing the same clothes, only his with red accents as opposed to your green ones. His dark hair is curled messily across his features and his glasses rest lopsided on his head. "Thank Merlin!" he exclaims, his British accent thick as he rushes up to you and leans over you, smiling. "Are you okay?"

You blink, looking at his features intensely. His smile, the way his nose curves, the swoop of his hair. His eyes.

The same ones flash in your head.

"You look familiar," you whisper, tilting your head with confusion, "Where do I know you from."

The boy laughs. "Y/n/n, it's me. It's James."

James? James? James? For some reason the name sticks on your tongue. You look at him as your memories rush back. James. Pietro? James.

"Jamie, right," you shake your head, touching your scalp and frowning. "Shit, what happened?"

"You fell and hit your head pretty damn hard, love," James kisses your forehead tenderly. "Madam Pomfrey says you have a small concussion," he smiles and again you have a weird sense of déja-vu.

"I had the weirdest dream," you tell him and look down at your hands, almost expecting to see the green light from around them. Your frown deepens when you see the silver bracelet from your dream. You hold your wrist up.

"James? Where did this come from?"

James looks at the bracelet and shrugs. "Why're you asking me? It's yours."

You turn the bracelet around, frowning again as you see a hint of two small initials engraved onto the metal.

P.M

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese, @longlivedelusion, @fangirl-swagg, @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic , @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld

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earthpleasures · 7 months ago

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BON APPÉTİT !

Pietro Maximoff x fem!stripper!reader

Summary: Just a boring mission, what could do wrong?

Warnings: MDNI +18 / swearing, oral sex (m. receiving), body worshipping (m. receiving), dry humping, overstimulation, praise, nipple sucking, throat fucking, dom!reader, sub!pietro.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: istg some kind of horny demon took me over to write this

"'cause I'm all that you want, boy

all that you can have, boy

got me spread like a buffet

bon a, bon appétit, baby"

- bon appétit by katy perry.

Blinding lights of the strip club were pricking right into his eyeballs, making it hard to observe his surroundings. His hand rested on the header of the comfortable couch. He would be lying if he said the ongoing show wasn't appealing. However it wasn't why he was here.

He could run much faster than sound but he couldn't knock the formula this club's owner had in his palms. If Stark's calculations were right, and they always were, the tube carried formula may be made of bulletproof material but it wasn't going to stand the speed Pietro would be pushing on it when he runs.

Foolish, he thought.

He scoffed as he swirled his whiskey in its glass. Where the hell was this man? He couldn't possibly take news of mission and fly out of his grip. But Pietro's careful eyes couldn't spot the motherfucker.

As music came to an end, the crowd let out exaggerated protesting noises. Mood rose back to its original rhythm when new dancers took their places on stage. Another song began to play, one he could evaluate with the term ‘lively’ rather than the previous erotic one.

He really wanted to be done and go back to the compound. Obnoxiously loud sound of Katy Perry was going to damage his eardrums if they kept blasting the goddamn speakers like this.

Song was slowly rising to its peak, men and women around the strippers were throwing money every direction in the company of obscene profanities. Their desperation made him nauseated. Damn, some people have zero dignity.

It wasn't like he was going to catch the owner anytime soon, so he made a decision. Why not enjoy the show while time passes?

He couldn't choose who to watch, they were all dancing excellently. No wonder it says ‘VIP’ on the front. But that wasn't his concern anymore because his eyes, in fact, caught a girl.

Dusty pink hair, a black leather set left too little to imagine, painful looking heels.

There was no fucking way that hair was her own hair, it had to be a wig to look this perfect.

His eyes locked to her figure, moving flawlessly. On her knees, her body rippled against the pole with the roll of a professional, long crimson nails slowly climbed their way to her neck from her crotch.

‘Cause I’m all that you want, boy,

All that you can have, boy.

She stood up languidly and wrapped a leg around the pole. Letting herself fall backwards, she arched back, pushing her breasts up. Arms extended forward like she wanted everyone to reach her, touch her. From the distance, he could barely read a line from her lips.

Bon appétit, baby.

He swallowed, shifting uncomfortably on his leather couch. The pants he wore began to tighten around his lower body, he could feel the sweat beads rolling from his neck all the way down to his abs. This wasn't good.

Nudging a palm over his obvious erection didn't relieve any tension his stressed body carried. He bit inside of his mouth, chewing on his cheek's tissue. His fingertips itched to touch, to feel.

After a swipe of his tongue over his lip, he raised his hand slightly, signaling a waiter to come closer. Waiter looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Anything sir?” He pointed at the dusty pink haired girl on the stage. “What's her name?” Waiter turned his head back to pinpoint the stripper in question. A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Nice taste. Celestia.”

When Pietro narrowed his eyes with a confused who the fuck would name their child ‘Celestia’ stare, he couldn't contain his snicker. “It's her stage name. We’re not allowed to give out their real names unless they're willing.” Pietro wanted to laugh, atleast club gave their strippers some rights.

“Makes sense. I want a room for Celestia.” Waiter nodded as he noted down his name. “Enjoy your ride, buddy.” He smirked before refilling his whiskey glass. Pietro didn't say anything back to the man as he retreated to the suffocating crowd.

When show came to an end, one of the waiters headed in his direction and gave him a ticket-like paper. The red, glowing calligraphic sign was placed in the right direction of his seat.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled his weight up to make his way. The hallway was long, housing many rooms, different light colors were leaking from under the doors of some of the rooms. Music sounds were almost deaf to ears, he guessed the rooms to be soundproof.

Attendant unlocked the door for him after checking his room's number. Before letting him in, he stopped Pietro. “As I can see, it's your first time here, mate. There are two rules. You have twenty minutes with stripper and it is absolutely forbidden to touch stripper.” After a nod of his head, he was allowed in.

The inside was as good as he expected. A pole, white leather couch and lights were placed in the room. Black walls surprisingly didn't feel claustrophobic. It didn't seem like any camera was placed around.

His palms were sweating, perhaps from excitement, perhaps from stress.

Couch was comfy, it felt like sinking into the clouds. His breath hitched when he sensed a click on the door handle. Adjusting his position, he gulped down the lump sitting on his throat. I shouldn't do this. I am here for a mission. This is so wrong. Wanda is going to kill me-

His flowing thoughts were cut with her entrance. He could see the sinister lust emitting from her eyes, doubting she looked at all of her clients with such intensity. “So, today's delight is you.” She mumbled as she came closer step by step, quicking his pulse unnecessarily.

She licked her lips while dropping her hands on his knees. Leaning forward, her red painted lips ghosted over his ear. “Interesting to see a thing like you here.” One of her hands fastened on header of the couch to help herself as she strangled his lap. She groaned in surprise when his hard-on pressed against her.

“Woah, you're a big boy, aren't you?” All he could do was to look up to her like a stupid puppy, waiting for her to do something since he couldn't touch her.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, rocking her hips back and forth against his clothed cock. He moaned through his clenched teeth. ‘Fighting his inner demons’ would be the name he would give to his urge of groping the tits in front of his eyes and mouth.

“You would’ve felt so good inside.” She pouted mockingly, her hand running on his hair. “But we ain't getting time for that.” A subtle chuckle left her lips. “Cat got your tongue, pretty boy?” His lips quivered before answering her question.

“No, it's just… you. You're so mesmerizing.” Well, it was too late to take his words back once they left his mouth.

I think my brain just short circuited.

“Aren't you a sweet talker?” She whispered as her manicured nails traveled down, trailing a line between his abs over his shirt. “Normally, I would've given you a nice lap dance and maybe some humping.” To press on her statement, she rocked her hips harder to his crotch.

“However, I decided to do you a favor.”

She got off of his lap. “What, no.” He reached out in a panicked state which was stupid due to no-touching policy. “Easy, I am here for the next sixteen minutes.” She smirked, standing over him with a hungry gaze. It's been so long since she had any actual intimacy with anyone and he looked like a delicious treat.

She got on her knees, her hands massaged his firm thighs. “God, men like you should be put in a museum.” She breathed as she ran her hand over his bulge. Her fingers didn't even fumble on his zipper, immediately pulling it all way down after she undid his jeans’ button. He lifted his hips to help her as she pulled his boxers and pants down to his ankles.

Her pupils dilated as she focused on his cock, it was resting on his stomach with a painfully red tip. Her thumb pressed on his tip, smearing bead of precum over his skin. He let out a pathetic whimper. “I-i.. is this o-okay?” He almost quacked during his sentence when she spat on his shaft and wrapped her hand around it.

“Probably not. But they will understand a girl in need.” She looked up to him.

Disheveled hair, hazy eyes, flushed cheeks. I want to swallow him.

He was getting impatient, but still didn't move. What was meaning of moving if he couldn't touch her?

It took just a lick from bottom to top for him to buck his hips. She held his hips firmly, settling him down. “No, no. Let me do my thing.” He bit his lips, maybe hard enough to withdraw blood. “Please, I've been waiting-” Her mouth suddenly enveloped his cock, taking it half way with her eyes observing his reaction.

He cried out due to shock, clawing at the fabric underneath his grip. His hand reached out to tangle his fingers to her hair, but before he could, she caught his hand. She pulled away from him. “No touching.”

Sizing up his strong figure, she made a shift on her plan. “Take off your shirt.” His trembling fingers peeled the tshirt of his body. She could feel her mouth going dry with the sight of his bare torso.

Before she could control herself, her fingers wandered on his firm chest and abs. His pale skin was stained with scars. Almost each of them looked like they were telling a different story.

She rose on her knees, running her tongue on his abs. Texture of the scars caught on her tongue, causing him to clutch onto one of the cushions and bite inside of his mouth.

She pressed her thumb on his nipple, feeling it harden under her touch. She circled her finger on his areola, wrapping her lips around the neglected one. A moan left his lips.

Satisfied and encouraging by the noises he let out, she draped her arms around his waist, pushing him against her mouth.

“W-wait-” She pulled away with a pop sound, leaving his chest aching. “What's wrong?” She asked as she pressed a kiss to one of his scars, then to another, then to another.

He looked down at her. “It's too-”

“Overstimulating? That's the purpose.” She smirked at his naiveness.

She sucked marks all over his chest, kissing each of the scars and soothing the ache she left with a run of her tongue. His labored breaths became unstable during her treatment. God, it fucking felt like being worshipped.

And finally she went back to her original plan. Hand wrapped around his shaft, she began to stroke him. “You're not some kind of loser who has no hole to fill, are you?” She planted a kiss over his tip. “You're different.”

She suckled on the tip, treating it like a tasty lollipop. “Well, can't say I care.” Without breaking eye contact she went down slowly, inch by inch. Even after all the times she gave a blow job, she couldn't deep throat him like she wanted to. His tip reached the back of her throat, hitting there repeatedly as she bobbed her head.

Tears filled her eyes, forcing her to let go of him. He didn't care about the shitty policy, running his thumb over her cheek and wiping her tears away. “You don't have to if it's hard for you.”

But she didn't let him rest, jerking him off when she didn't have him down to her throat. “But I want to.” Her free hand tangled her fingers to his, bringing it to her skin. “Touch me.” He raised an eyebrow.

“But I thought-”

“I am letting you.”

And that was enough for him. His both hands cupped her cheeks. He leaned down and smashed his lips against hers, tasting the smeared lip gloss and himself. Getting impatient, she pushed him back to the couch.

She put her hands on his thighs to balance her weight as he tugged at her strands pushing her all the way down even though she gagged around him. She hollowed her cheeks and pressed her tongue underside of him while he bucked his hips somewhat violently, fucking her throat on his pace.

She cupped his balls, massaging them to encourage his orgasm. She could sense his legs shivering under her palms. He was close. With thought of it may help, she moaned around him, and it worked.

He shot down rope after rope to her throat, not even allowing her to breath. Aftermath of the orgasm was violent on his body. His cock twitched as she pulled out and got up.

Strangling him again, it was her turn to kiss him. It was sloppy, teeth against teeth with a mix of lust and rush. He remembered the fact he was allowed to touch, so he did. His hand roamed on her skin, pressing her against his chest.

Red light illuminated the room. Time to part.

He wiped her lips with his shirt, fixing her hair as much as he could. “Will you be okay? What if your boss gets angry?” He questioned, hands softly placed on her waist.

She giggled. “He will understand. Women have urges too.”

He laughed. “You're a surprising woman.” He said as she got off his lap.

“Sure I am. And I would like to see you again.”

With one last peck over his bruised lips, she parted from the room. Leaving Pietro behind disheveled and exhausted.

Now, how was he supposed to explain the wasted time he spent in the club and the hickeys to the team?

#mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x you #mcu x reader #mcu x you #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x you #age of ultron #the avengers #avengers #smut

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writing-house-of-m · 2 years ago

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Photograph

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word count: 1895

Summary: When you and Wanda go through some old things at her family house, you recognise someone in an old photograph they have

A/N: Just a little idea I thought would be cute. I wrote this pretty quickly and didn't really edit it properly so I hope it makes sense lol Thank you @ageofevermore and @cuinaminute229 for helping my indecisive ass on the header. Any feedback or comments would be much appreciated, so let me know what you think!

There is a soft golden glow shining through the windows as the sun was beginning to say goodbye to the day.

Taking a break from packing wasn't supposed to be long but the small group of you have been too distracted to notice the time passing.

You came across the Maximoff family's old photographs that have been in storage. You couldn't help but flip through a photo album when you noticed they were of Oleg and Iryna's wedding day.

It has been an hour since then, your future in-laws telling you about the relatives who have shown up as you go through different stacks of photos, some they have always been close with, some have now passed and others who are best to avoid. It was a well needed heads up for when you will have to meet them on your wedding day with Wanda.

There are so many photos and recounts of the memories that go along with them; birthdays, anniversaries, family gatherings and all the moments in between.

"What happened to Pietro's hair!" You exclaim, noticing a gold fading (badly) into a red colour when you flicked to a new page in the current album you are going through.

Wanda looks at the picture laughing, explaining the memory, "He wanted to make his hair look like fire." Then she grimaces as her laugh dies out, scrunching her nose, "But he did it himself."

You both giggle at the messy result and the sour look on Pietro's face as Oleg squashes his cheeks together. You can tell he was forced to sit there while the photo was taken at his expense.

There was a reason you were initially going through old boxes from the attic of the Maximoff residence. You and Wanda have officially moved in together and having unpacked all the essentials weeks ago you decided it was finally time to get her final round of things.

They would probably just end up in storage at your new house but at least Wanda would have all her things in one place. You had already done the same with your things last week.

You hear the front door unlock, open and close signifying Pietro's return.

After Pietro greets everyone, he notices, "Old photos?" He reaches down and picks up one of the albums, "Have you finished with getting the last of your things?"

You and Wanda look guilty and shake your heads because you still haven't completed what you were here to do.

"Get a move on, I've got things I need to go up there," Pietro chastises.

Before you get to say anything, your future mother-in-law gets there, "It's about time you thought about settling down, son."

"Ah mama, it will happen when it happens. You can't rush these things," Pietro says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I hope things are going well with Monica. She's such a lovely girl," she says, handing him a box to put behind him. He puts down the album he is holding and takes it from her hands. "Better than that last girl. Mantis, she called herself," Iryna cringes.

"Mama!" Pietro exclaims to stop this conversation.

You smile at the scene, you don't have any siblings so you have been treating Pietro as your own brother when you and Wanda got serious and you grew more comfortable with her family.

Now that Iryna was done it was your turn, "Hey Piet, have you ever thought about dyeing your hair?" You ask. Pietro squints his eyes at you because of the 'random' question, "Maybe, err, yellow and red?" You laugh along with his family.

"Ah! I thought I got rid of all of those!" He furrows his brows picking up a different album from before, "Where is it?"

"You will never know, 'hot head'," Wanda responds. Getting a round of laughter.

He gives Wanda a side eye before looking through the album he is holding. Eventually he takes a seat opposite you and Wanda on the floor.

Pietro thinks aloud as he flips through the book he is currently going through, "Hey, I remember this place. We weren't there for long though."

Iryna looks at the photo over Pietro's shoulder as he holds it up for her. She hums, agreeing, "We weren't there for long, two months I think?" She turns to Oleg so he can take a look. He walks closer and nods his head.

He chuckles under his breath remembering, "My job at the time relocated me to the wrong place, it was such a mess and a huge headache."

"I think I remember that, we were even enrolled at the local school for a little while," Wanda adds.

Pietro notices another photo, this time one of Wanda and another student from said school. He passes it to her, "Do you remember this?"

"Oh yeah!" Wanda takes the image from him, "We got along so well. I missed them for the longest time after we moved," she reminisces. "I don't remember their name. I don't think I ever got it, actually."

"Such a good friendship you didn't even get a name?" Pietro laughs.

You finally look away from the album in your lap that has had your attention. Furrowing your eyebrows because you recognise the child sitting beside Wanda in the image, "How do you have this?"

All four Maximoff's look at you at the same time.

You feel the silence until Wanda explains, "I completely forgot but seeing this photo I remember making one friend in my last few weeks there." She points at the two figures sitting with cheesy grins and arms wrapped around each other. "I can't believe I forgot about my time there."

You are quite literally gobsmacked listening to the story unfold.

Iryna chimes in, "Well, school had barely started before we moved again. It's not surprising you don't remember."

"I know the name of the kid," you reveal. The others look in disbelief and wonder as you sit there smirking.

"Really? How? Who is it?" They all ask questions at once.

"It's me," you say with a breathy laugh.

"What?!" Wanda looks closer at the picture and even her parents come over to get a better look.

"No way," Pietro gasps as they all hover over the photograph.

"I told you where I moved from when we first met, remember?" You ask Wanda, getting her attention again.

"I didn't know the name of the place, look how small we were," she replies, pointing at the image.

Wanda then joins her family who are all mumbling different similarities between you and the child in the photo. You listen to as much as you can, chuckling to yourself pulling out your phone.

Last week when you packed your final things from your parents home you too had found old albums there. With everything going on, moving houses and planning a wedding, it completely slipped your mind to show Wanda the old pictures you had taken snapshots of when you were younger.

Putting the phone next to the photograph everyone compares the two. Wanda is speechless as she looks at you in the same disbelief you felt when you first saw the picture, "I can't believe it."

"Neither can I!" You scoff out.

"This is so crazy!"

"I know!"

"Nothing can stop a great love," Oleg speaks, stopping you and Wanda with your back and forth while he casually walks away. But you and Wanda smile at each other blushing a little because of his comment.

"We became friends so fast," Wanda leans into you, looking at the photo.

"Yeah," you speak into her hair, kissing the top of her head. "And then you forgot about me," you finish cheekily.

Wanda pulls away and smacks your arm. Then takes on an earnest look, "But seriously, I was so sad to lose you, I finally made a friend and a really cool one at that," she trails off.

"We still found each other again though," you say.

"Yeah, we did," Wanda says with a soft smile.

You lean against each other to look at the photo for a little while longer. Looking at the happiness and innocence radiating from your younger selves.

Unbeknownst to you, Pietro snaps a photo on his phone of the two of you smiling down at the captured memory. In his mind this was him getting his wedding gift sorted.

When you have been through the stacks of pictures, you eventually go back to packing the last of Wanda's things. It is all taken to your new place and you are both exhausted.

You decide to leave unpacking it all until the next day and when you do, you come across the photo again.

"Your mom must have put this in here," you smile at Wanda.

She takes it from you and instead of putting it in storage she places it above the fireplace. You make a mental note to buy a frame for it.

At the end of the day you sit on the couch after another exhausting day.

"Fourteen years," you say randomly. Wanda looks at you quizzically so you clarify, "I worked it out, us meeting again after that photo was fourteen years."

"Wow," Wanda breathes out, sitting against you as you wrap an arm around her. "I guess we were always destined to be together."

Wanda looks up at you making you look down at her. You share a small kiss and when you separate you continue looking at the picture.

You talk about how fate has brought you here and how thankful you are for finding each other again even without either of you knowing who the other was.

"I guess our love transcends all boundaries."

Wanda smacks your chest lightly, "You dork"

"Yesterday, you said I was really cool! You can't take that back!"

"That was before the cheesy one-liner."

"Well, you better get used to it. It will get worse when we get married. Not to mention the jokes I'll come up with when we have kids," you smile.

Wanda looks up at you again so you meet her gaze, "Hmm, yeah, but I think you mean 'kid' as in singular," you smile at her correction of the future plans you have discussed, "and a dog, of course," she says innocently.

"No, no, no, I never agreed to getting a dog. I said we could get a cat," you correct.

"Don't worry I didn't forget about Tom," Wanda says nonchalantly.

"Tom?! We didn't agree to any names yet either!"

"Are you sure? So where did I get; Wilma, our daughter, and Spike, our dog, from?" Wanda asks, raising a brow.

"Probably the same place you forgot about the best friend you ever had," you say pushing Wanda, forcing her to lay on the sofa with you carefully placing yourself on top.

You press your lips to her soft ones and because you are both smiling too much you have to stop. Instead, you settle with kissing the tip of her nose.

"And here I thought we would be making these big decisions together. We still have a wedding to plan first, you know?" You muse.

"Yeah, I know. But I can't help myself thinking of our life together," Wanda says, caressing your face.

Just as fate brought you together, it has a few more surprises for you as you continue your life together.