#quicksilver x fem!reader

[pretty-little-mind33]

Pietro Maxmioff x fem!reader

Summary: You don't want to share a bed with Pietro. He wants nothing more than to share one with you.

Prompt: one bed - "Don't bite your lip, bite mine."

Warnings: again, I use Czech as 'Sokovian', swearing, flirty!pietro, anxious!reader

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

"Which asshole gave Pietro and me a room with only one bed!" you hiss, standing in the small living corner that is in the hotel, your arms crossed.

Steve and Tony glance up from their m friendly game of pool while Natasha smirks from where she is on the couch. Wanda, who is watching Steve and Tony's game, laughs and you snap your head around to glare at her. 

"What's so funny? Can't I switch with you? He's your brother!"

Wanda shakes her head, still smiling. "Rooms are rooms."

You huff. You're not stupid. Everyone on the team thinks you and Pietro have some romantic thing going on, which means they'd most likely done this on purpose.

"Well, fuck you all," you say and storm back into the elevator, angrily making your way up to your hotel room again. 

You open the door and almost slam into Pietro, who is walking out of the bathroom, with only a towel loosely hung around his hips.

He curses in Sokovian as his eyes widen. "Miláček (Sweetheart)," he says, finally registering it's only you, and that familiar annoying play-boy smirk curls his lips. 

"I leave you alone for barely five minutes and you've already finished your shower?" you ask in disbelief, ignoring how water still drips down his torso and over his toned abs.

Pietro makes it so damn hard to be mad at him when he looks this good. 

"I'm quick," he shrugs and walks by you, ruffling your hair with a grin. He turns and walks into the main room, calling out behind him, "Plus, now you have more time to shower yourself. You're welcome, Princezna (Princess)."

You roll your eyes and storm into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you as you pretend you're not completely flustered by him or his pet names. 

Once you've finished your shower, you leave the bathroom dressed in your pajamas. Your hair is dried and brushed and your skin smells like the vanilla body wash you'd used.

Pietro is lying on the right side of the bed, his arms folded behind his head as he watches a comedy movie and chuckles along. 

He perks up when he sees you and smiles. "Hey, drahoušek (darling)," he says, his voice hoarse and raspy. 

"That's three," you hum and walk over cautiously, sitting on the other end of the queen-sized bed, staring at Pietro like he's some scary unknown. "You have any more cheesy pet names I can't understand up your sleeve, Maximoff?" 

Pietro chuckles, very amused. "How do you know they're cheesy if you can't understand them, moje srdce (my heart)."

You narrow your eyes at him defiantly. "I just know," you say. "I know you."

Pietro hums and looks at you, his silver hair falling over his icy blue eyes for a moment. "Wanna finish the movie?" he asks. 

You shake your head and climb under the blanket. You hear Pietro's laugh and then he turns off the T.V. He speeds up to turn off the lights, tucking himself into the bed next to you in a blur. His body feels so warm, so close, and your head spins as you try to stay as far away from him as possible. You hate these feelings. You hate them more than anything. 

"Princezna (Princess)?"

You tense. 

"Y-yeah?"

You hear the shifting of sheets and then he's even closer, his hand coming up from behind to brush some strands of your hair as his fingertips then linger on your cheek. "Look at me, will you?" he asks seriously. 

You hesitate, not wanting to turn around. Pietro hums again and whispers something in Sokovian in your ear. His breath is warm on your skin and as if in a trance, you turn around. Your noses almost touch, causing your eyes to widen. The curtains aren't drawn closed so you can see him easily in the moonlight. 

He's gorgeous. 

You bite your lip, the action almost uncontrollable. 

Pietro's gaze hardens and without much thinking, he leans in and takes your chin in his hand, kissing your lips. In the process, he opens your mouth to disconnect your teeth from your lips as he deepens the kiss. As startled as you are, you kiss him back and pull him closer to you. No lips have ever felt softer than his.

Pietro pulls away after a moment and grins. "Don't bite your lip, next time drahoušek (darling), bite mine." 

His words cause you to halt, your body feeling weak as you look at him with wide eyes and a shiver runs through you when his thumb traces your lips.

You find yourself nodding, your shyness appearing as you realize Pietro fucking Maxmioff had just kissed you—while in the same bed—you know have to share.

Pietro is looking at you like he adores you, his eyes tracing every blemish and insecurity on your face with a look that makes your heart flutter.

"I like you," he tells you. "A lot." 

Your mind is unable to conjure up any coherent words but it's screaming at you to return the feelings. 

"You don't need to tell me now, Princezna (Princess)," he whispers and kisses your forehead. "Miluji tě (I love you)," he adds, knowing you can't understand him. His arm wraps around you and you let him, nuzzling into him. His chest fills with pride.

Your mind has only calmed down a little, or calmed down enough, that the one thing you can think is thank god for the team and their weird sense of intuition.

[violet-harmon2011]

Can we get some Peter maximoff hcs pls? :3🩶🩶🩶

yes omg

would randomly get the zoomies at 3am

in order to cure them, he NEEDS you to come to the local DQ to get blizzards

ofc he carries you there on his back in under 2 seconds

going to grocery stores late at night to push each other around in shopping carts

randomly throws you over his shoulder and dances or runs around

would dress up as whatever you want for halloween

he would be the linguini to your remy, the woody to your bo peep, the romeo to your juliet, the ghostface to your tatum, the jake to your tricky, etc.

long distance doesn't exist for you guys

you're his first serious relationship, so he cares about you a LOT

feels like a lost puppy without you

clingy king

will barely let you go to work/school in the morning and will be on top of you when you get back

secretly loves it when you steal his headphones and listen to his music

he thinks you look adorable bopping your head and dancing around when you think he isn't watching

you're always mad when he forgets to eat and faints bc of it

but you can't stay angry for long bc he's just an overenergetic golden retriever

so you just always make sure to carry protein bars and such with you in case he forgets again

[olsenmyolsen]

Hey sorry you are ill at the moment, you mentioned requests being open. So if I may

May a request an wanda one shot where both wanda and yn are crushing in each other but both too scared to admit. Pietro is yns friend and takes her out to crazy golf or something to unwind (nothing alcohol related please) . But maybe pietro causes trouble and they end up arrested. Which stresses yn out as she's never been arrested and is scared and paranoid.

Anyway she uses her call to call wanda (much to pietro's displeasure) and she storms in to get them out (def calming down yn and giving her a hug when she sees her in jail and after she gets her out) . (Wanda def makes sure any record of yn getting arrested is gone with her powers) .

Wanda being utterly pissed at pietro, maybe they argue in sokovian and maybe pietro says something (def about them being idiots who won't admit they like each other or something along the lines) and he speeds away and it ends with Wanda being the one to confess and ask yn out.

I know this might seem a bit much or too detailed but let me know what you think :)

You Have The Right To Remain Silent

(I feel like I might start writing Pietro a lot more now)

master list . maroon master list . dark master list

Post AoU (Female Reader X Wanda Maximoff)

Summary: Pietro takes you out and tries to get you to admit your feelings about Wanda. Simple, right? So why are you making a phone call from a county jail?

Word Count: 3.2K

Content: Pietro is a great friend/menace, Emo Wanda, Cuteness

To say Wanda Maximoff was mad would be THE understatement.

Not only was she mad, she was pissed, enraged, furious, embarrassed, she was- you get it. So, as Wanda grabs her red jacket and storms down to the Avenger's garage, she can't help but replay the most recent call with You repeatedly.

In fairness, you did only have one phone call, at least, according to the cop who arrested Wanda's brother and You.

But let's back it up a bit to this morning when all Pietro wanted to do was take you out. Have a bit of one-on-one hang-out time. You were, after all, his most recent best friend since moving to America and joining the Avengers.

"Y/n, come on, get up!" You were slowly but abruptly being shaken away by your silver-haired friend. You lift your tired arms and push him away. "No, I love sleep!" You cry out why, doing your best to keep your eyes shut, but within a flash, Pietro has lifted your window blinds, making the early morning sunshine right onto you.

Damn, Stark, for putting you in the east corner of the compound.

So, with a loud groan into your pillow, you blink open your eyes to see Pietro smugly smiling. "Hi!" He waved.

What a menace.

You closed your eyes and sighed loudly. But sure enough, about twenty minutes later, you were dressed comfortably in your favorite pair of jeans and a light hoodie. It was about halfway through autumn, so the choice was perfect for the season and for whatever outdoor activity Pietro wanted to drag you to.

As of late, he was known to pull something like this. About two weeks ago, it was Basketball. A month prior, it was Pickleball.

Etc etc.

And you weren't sure if it was meant to happen or not, but the conversations always seemed to steer back to fellow teammate Pietro's sister and your crush, Wanda Maximoff.

And not that Pietro knew. At least you didn't think so...

(He knew.)

Regardless, you stumbled into the Avenger's kitchen and- "Hey, Y/n!" You jolt your head up from the floor of the compound at the accented angelic voice of Wanda. She's standing by the stove making pancakes. She's dressed in her usual wear of black skirts and cardigans. Necklaces hanging from her. Wanda's nails have some of the black polish removed, and her fingers are still wearing rings. Some of the last things from first home...

Sokovia.

Wanda keeps her eyes on you as you smile to see her. Hoping your cheeks don't light up. "Hi, Wanda!" You finally manage to say. She loves the sound of your voice, too. Even when it's all wavered. "You heading out?" Wanda says as you walk further into the kitchen. Heading to the fridge because you're on autopilot.

You look down at your outfit of choice. "Uh yeah, Pietro wanted to do something." Wanda makes anah noise and turns back to the pancakes. "You like blueberries, right?"

Wanda knew you did.

"Yeah." You reply after retrieving a glass of orange juice, making Wanda nod and not so subtly begin making a blueberry pancake. You turned your head away at the feeling of the warmth in your cheeks and sat at the kitchen island.

You felt the need to say something to Wanda. Ask her how she slept. Or what she was doing today. Or if she watched any of the old sitcoms you used to watch after school. But nothing was firing in your brain as you watched her glide through the kitchen.

You were starting to wonder if she didn't have her abilities, what would Wanda do? Chef? Ballet? Actress?

Wanda laughed while flipping over your two pancakes onto a plate. The noise made you raise your eyebrows and look at her with an acute smile. "What's funny?" You asked, but Wanda shook her head. "Just thought about something." She meekly replied with her green eyes, making her red cheeks and freckles pop slightly more. "Here." She then said as she laid down the food in front of you. Her powers setting down the syrup next to you.

You smiled and felt your heart flutter. "You get first dibs." Wanda smiled back. "Wow... Wanda, this looks-"

"Ah, there you are!!" Pietro rushed into the kitchen, making the two of you startle, and dropped your silverware onto the plate. "Jesus!" You yell out while Wanda takes the dish towel next to her and throws it at her brother. "Stop doing that!" She yells, making Pietro roll his eyes. "But you always say that!" Wanda lets out a large sigh and glares at him before turning back to the stove to keep working on breakfast for the rest of the team.

Effectively ending your moment with Wanda.

You pick back up your fork and knife and begin to dig into your specially made pancakes while Pietro tries to apologize to his sister to get her to make him chocolate pancakes, but she refuses and then says: "Only Y/n gets the special treatment!"

You froze, but Pietro smirked and looked at Wanda before communicating with her in Sokovian. A language you wish you could understand. Maybe in time... However, what Pietro said ended up with her yelling something back while trying her best to hide her smile.

Pietro called her out, and thus, a chocolate pancake was laid in front of him minutes later. But leaving food around him doesn't last long, so as much as you wanted to talk to Wanda some more and be terrible at flirting, you were being whisked away for a day with Pietro.

Not before waving bye to Wanda.

"Axe throwing?" You asked Pietro as the two of you walked up to the building after a 30-minute drive. "Not just axe throwing!" You tilted your head and followed the speedster inside.

Pietro took you to the newest evolution in the craze. Inside was your typical kind of place for this activity, but instead of standard sections, this place also had a glow-in-the-dark area and a gamified version where you had to play/win specific challenges for tickets for prizes.

You looked at your friend and saw his smile on his face.

Sometimes, you remind yourself that this is still the same person who lost everything months ago. And here he is with a wide smile.

Also, how in the world did he find out they opened at 10 am was beyond you. It just didn't make sense... But it's a tale, so after ordering some water and snacks, the first axe hit the board.

"No, fair, you're super strong!" Pietro was already whining.  You playfully rolled your eyes and grabbed your axe. "Yes, but that and my impenetrable skin don't make me super accurate. I'm not Hawkeye." You say with a little laugh. "Ah, right, the old man," Pietro replied, lifting the axe above his head. You smiled. "I'm so telling him you said that." You say as Pietro's axe lands slightly to the right of the bullseye.

Pietro retrieves it and laughs back before asking you about Natasha Romanoff, aka The Black Widow.

You tried your best to talk him out of asking her, but it didn't work. However, when he got knocked across the gym three weeks from now, you were there to say, "I told you so."

"Bullseye!" You cheered as your axe landed dead center. Pietro watched you walk to grab it with a smile before he did his best to shift the conversation to the real reason for today's adventure. "So Y/n..."

"So Pietro..." You said, copying his tone as he threw his axe. "You and my sister seemed to be getting along..." You tilted your head slightly. "Yeah... so?"

Pietro's axe landed a little below the target. Pietro looked at it before turning to you. "Pietro..." You said as the man stared at you. "Y/n, come on." Pietro grabbed his axe. "Just admit you like my sestra!"

"Pietro!" You raised your voice at his accurate assumption. "She likes you too!" He kept his voice level with yours. "You're too dumb or chicken to do anything about it!" You shook your head. "No. We're just friends!"

Yes, you had a crush on Wanda. Because, of course, you did, but when it came to admitting it to Pietro, you denied, denied, denied.

One, because you'd never hear the end of it.

Two, you didn't want to jeopardize anything between you and Wanda.

And three, could Wanda actually like you back??

"She made you special pancakes! You heard her. No one, but you gets them!" Pietro argues loudly, making one of the few other people in the establishment look over towards the two of you. "Pietro, shh." You say while gesturing with your head to the person, but Pietro isn't bothered by that. Too busy asking you about your crush. "That means something!"

"No, it means nothing." You argue back hoping this would be like any other time Pietro brought up this conversation and have it end reasonably quick. So, as you badly threw your axe at the wall, Pietro stood up.

"So if you think everything between you and my sestra means nothing then that must mean you don't like her."

You picked your axe from the floor. "What?" You replied, standing in the narrow space. "I didn't say that!" A customer looks over at you two. So does an employee. "So there is something?!" Pietro grins as he lets go of the axe right next to you, as you haven't gotten out of the way yet. "Pietro!" You scream even if the axe wouldn't have done anything to your body, thanks to your abilities.

An employee calls a manager over to them to watch you and Pietro.

"Just admit it: you like my sestra!" You huff, but before you can say anything else, he uses his super speed to grab the axe from the board and swing it back at you again. "Say it!" He calls out as it feels like you got a new haircut.

Luckily, nothing was trimmed.

"Yes, I like Wanda-" Pietro goes to interrupt you, but you cut him. "As a friend!" Pietro rolls his eyes and goes to use his powers again, but a man in a blue polo shirt stops him as Pietro raises his axe.

The two of you turn your eyes to the stranger—a manager.

"Hey! You are breaking some rules here and causing a disturbance. Why don't you two come with me!" Pietro looks at you and returns his eyes to the man with the name tag, 'Micheal.' "No, we're cool. It's okay."

You sigh, closing your eyes, knowing that's NOT what you're supposed to say. You move up.

"Hey. I'm sorry, my friend here is a little... much, but I-" You get cut off by the manager. "Doesn't matter what you're about to say. You two have been loud and reckless. Not to mention you're mutants." The man adds that last part in like you wouldn't heat him.

Pietro looks from you to the man. "Excuse me?"

"Pietro, let's just leave." You say, moving your eyes to Wanda's brother. But Pietro tightens his jaw. He brought you to this place to have fun and to finally have you admit that you are head over heels for Wanda. He also wants to spend time with his friend. He's tired of people telling him what to do or not do.

So, in a lapse of better judgment, Pietro uses his super speed and, thus leading to the two of you pinned to a cop car while Peitro wears Micheals's name tag as paramedics look over the man in the polo with a bloody nose. "I didn't push him that hard," Pietro comments, making you huff as a cop tightens the cuffs on the two of you.

"You both have the right to remain silent..." The mustache'd cop behind you starts going over your Miranda Rights as you close your eyes and let the world fall to a hum around you.

What the fuck were you going to tell Wanda...

The cell door at the sheriff's station closes behind you as you and Pietro walk inside. "I still think we could've gotten away. I'm super fast." You throw your arms up and let them fall against your side. "And then what Pietro? My car would still be at the place, and they'd track the registration to the compound. Could you imagine two cops knocking on the Avengers doors!?"

Pietro noticed your voice. You're frustrated and exhausted. Uneasy as your anxiety courses through you.

Pietro looks away.

The last time you were arrested was before you joined the Avengers... Those memories are seconds away from coming back.

After a few quiet moments, you take a seat on the cold bench next to your friend. Pietro hears the deep exhale come out of you. "I'm sorry." He calmly speaks up, making you look at him. "I shouldn't have engaged or acted out." You nod. "Why did you?" You ask. Pietro shrugs but looks at you. "I was more than okay leaving, but then he said... that word a-and it made me think back to Hydra. You know they weren't exactly known for being the nicest people..." He jokes with a slight smile but is still solum with his words. "Plus, I guess. I guess I really just wanted today to be the day." Pietro looks at you, and you know what he means.

"I do like her. A lot." You speak up. Pietro smiles. "Oh god, what are we going to tell her?" You say as you lean back against the grey wall.

"Tell her?" Pietro says, making you glance at him. "We can't do that." You widen your eyes. "Are you kidding me? That's exactly what we're going to do!" You say back.

"She'll kill me!" Pietro jokingly looks scared.

"Pietro, you're lucky I haven't killed you! Besides, we're calling Wanda. I'm not about to have Cap come down here and treat us like we're children. I am not about to have Natasha scold us and make our weekly gym sessions increase. I'm calling Wanda!"

Pietro knew this was the only option as everyone else was too busy or off-world. But he still argued and pleaded. But he relented when he saw you start to shake from your nerves.

Ten minutes later, you walked back into the cell, and an officer closed it behind you.

"I think she's mad." You said. Knowing his twin, Pietro knew that if you thought Wanda was mad. Gear up because she was past mad. Pietro sighed and stood up, needing to stretch his legs. "Did you tell her it was my fault like I asked?" You nodded. "But then Wanda asked me how come I was arrested as well. I froze. I told her I pushed the man back when he tried to push me but couldn't." Pietro laughed through his nose. "Your super strength and impenetrable skin will always amaze me."

"Yeah..." You sigh. "Too bad it won't make me Wanda like me again after this." Pietro watches you sit on the bench. "I'll talk to her," Pietro affirms you, but you don't know if you want him to talk to the witch or not. But before you can say anything, you hear muffled, loud yelling coming from outside the double doors down the hall. "How did she get here already?!" Pietro asks because it makes no sense. You shake your head and shrug before the doors down the hall open, and Wanda's black boots hit the white tile floor with force.

The officer with Wanda opens the cell door without a word to either of you. When you look at his eyes, you see how red they are.

Pietro looks to you and gulps.

"Sestra-" Wanda raises her hand to Pietro. "I don't want to hear it. Let's go." Wanda starts to walk away, and as much as you shouldn't, you do, in fact, look up and down her backside. Your crush on her and her demeanor towards you in this moment makes something click inside you. Fuck.

As the three of you exit into the station lobby, you realize that everyone in the building is under Wanda's control. You glance at a monitor and watch as a red-eyed officer deletes your and Pietro's files. You look back to Wanda, who pierces you with her green eyes. A smile wants to break out on her lips, but she remains stern as she gestures for you two to pick up your belongings at the front desk. You nod, and you and Pietro grab your things—one of them including your car keys for your impounded car.

"It's out front," Wanda speaks up before you send her a gracious smile. She sees it but doesn't return one as she leads the three of you outside. Her red car is parked next to your older vehicle.

"Pietro in the car," Wanda commands her brother, who does so without wanting to be under her power. As she stops in front of her driver's side door, Wanda looks to you. She opens it before closing it and walking over to you. Her green eyes looking at yours, getting softer by the second. She then surprises you with the most Wanda thing ever. She wraps her arms tightly around you and hugs you. "It's okay." She whispers to you as you feel yourself melt into the embrace. "Wanda, I'm sorry." You feel the need to say back, but Wanda shakes her head and pulls back. "Y/n, the only thing you need to be sorry for is your choice of friends." You can't help but laugh as you wipe the corner of your eye. The last thing you needed to do was cry.

Wanda moves her hands and fingers covered in rings up and down your arms to comfort you. "Pietros has already taken the blame again and again," Wanda says, confusing you until she points to her head. "Right." You nod. Wanda smiles. "A lot of yelling in Sokovian." Wanda drags her hands down and off of your arm. You already feel the loss of her touch, but look at her eyes as they find yours. "Do you think we could talk later? After we get back to the compound?" She asks, and you feel your throat grow tighter. "Not about this!" Wanda quickly corrects your thoughts as she points to the sheriff's office. "It's just Pietro called me an idiot, and it has something to do with you."

"With me?" You find yourself questioning even though you one hundred percent know what she's getting at it. Wanda nods as a shy blush appears on her face. Wanda looks back to the car before turning to look at you. She bites her lip. "I like you. A lot." Wanda confesses after a brief moment.

You can't help but smile wide.

You nod. "I like you a lot too, Wanda." Wanda feels her heart grow warm as she hears your words. "So yeah, we can talk later?" She says, making you chuckle. "I'll see you at the compound." You reply back.

Who would've thought that to get your crush, all you had to do was get arrested?

dividers by @/benkeibear

[crystaistar]

"Come on and haunt me, I know you want me"

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader (short)

Summary: You invited Peter over as a joke and it slowly turned more serious...

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, physical fighting (kinda only a little though), Reader's mutant power isn't mentioned, so it can be depicted as anything! Nor is her best friend

You were bored after a long school day in the x-men mansion. While sitting in your dorm room, you had a smart idea to invite Peter Maximoff over. The speedy kleptomaniac that, for some reason, had an infatuation with you and constantly wanted to be near you.

It had gotten to the point where you felt bad for him. Most of the time, when you were mean to him, he asked what he'd done, but he always took it, took the mean comments, the bullying. Everything.

"And you called me because..?" He asked, leaning against the doorframe with a massive grin. It was more than evident how eager he was, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't excited that you of all people had called him over.

You turned around and stood up from where you were sitting at your desk, and then walked over to his lively body. You pressed a finger to his temple and pushed his head back against the wall, it hit it with a 'thud'.

He gazed at you blankly for a moment, his hands shoved into his pockets as he bit back a laugh. He found you extremely attractive when you got hansy with him. "Was that really necessary?"

You too bit back a small laugh, trying to keep up your cold facade that was desperately needed for the conversation to not take a drastic turn. "Yes, it was"

He pushed your hand away and forced himself off the wall, standing over you. Despite you being older than him (by a few months), you only came up to his shoulder. That was the main thing he found adorable. "It's just like you to be aggressive"

You pinched his arm as an attempt to stop his boasting (or flirting), and he let out a small 'oww', all while his grin widened. "Did you really need to do that?" He tried to sound bothersome, but overall, it was just an exaggeration. In fact, he enjoyed the physical contact.

"You were eyeing my best friend throughout all of Mr. Howletts (or Logans ;^;) history lesson. She told me you even tried flirting with her. Is this your attempt to regain my interest?" Your voice tinged with jealousy and more seeped into your tone when you tried to suppress it.

"Jesus, you're on about that again? That was hours ago!" Peters grin faded, and he rolled his eyes as he ran a hand through his messy silver hair. "Also, stop being hypocritical. I've seen the way you've been eyeing other mutants in our class"

He wasn't exactly wrong, but that was one time. He had been talking to multiple girls all the time (mainly because they knew he was quicksilver). "You act like you're above all that, and you do the same thing, so the next time I do it and you bring it up, I'll tell you about this conversation again. Plus, why do you care what girls I'm talking to?" He asked.

You pushed his head back against the wall again, a little harder than you intended it to be, but it got your point across nonetheless. Another pained noise escaped his parted lips, and he squinted slightly in pain. The force behind the push startled him, but he regained his composure just the same.

"Jesus, that hurts.. are you trying to give me a concussion, princess?" He muttered, bringing his hand to massage the back of his head while he produced a pout with his lips. You wanted to smack him for even saying a pet name in the sentence, but his brown glossy eyes looked so hurt by your violence (even though it was probably faux)

The hatred in your blood simmered lower and lower before completely disintegrating just by looking at his face, and you turned your head to the side so he couldn't see the blush creeping up your neck. Spoiler, he saw it anyway.

"I know you want me, princess"

⋆˙⟡

[lillypad910]

Dilf Peter Maximoff being sleepy?

Peter lays in bed, snuggled into you, his messy silver hair covering your face a bit.

It is probably closer to noon by now, your alarm went off about three hours ago. You can't move with the forty-five years old man-child clinging to you, nuzzling his face into your neck, his growing stubble tickling your shoulder.

"Peter," You call out to your boyfriend, his grip tightening tells you he hears you, "Baby, we need to get up. You have a class to teach in an hour." You try to keep your voice low, calm, and comforting.

"Mm..." He groans into your skin, making you let out a soft giggle from the vibration going across your skin. "Five more minutes."

"Pete," You try to sit up but he holds you too tight to let you actually move too much, forcing you to just sigh.

"Don't wanna..." He mumbles.

It takes another twenty minutes before you can finally get the speedster to get up, but, of course, once he is, he's ready in less than one. You step out of your shared room of the school's dorms, your professional clothing makes you look stunning, at least that's what he always tells you.

It's weird, dating one of the men who first brought you here a few years ago. But you don't think too hard on it. Besides, you're twenty-three, it's not that bad.

Tag list!

@cagethemunson

@spikeybatt

@cherrycolas-things

@r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e

@ali-r3n

@thepurplelovewitch

[buckyssoldat]

Reckless (Pietro Maximoff x Reader)

Summary: She fell for Pietro Maximoff's whirlwind energy, but his reckless love soon left her in constant disappointment. Heartbroken, she eventually moved on, finding peace and stability in a new relationship, while Pietro realized he couldn't be what she needed.

Word count: 2.2k

Requested: No

Warnings: heartbreak, unhealthy relationship, angst, mental health struggles

A/N: I was listening to ‘Reckless’ by Madison Beer, so this is loosely based on the song. I hope everyone likes it! Also, please check my series, ‘Forsaken – The Fallen Soldier’. Feedback is always appreciated, don’t be shy to share your thoughts on this :)

Pietro Maximoff was a force of nature. From the moment she met him, his energy, his speed, and endless enthusiasm swept her off her feet. His presence was like a hurricane – unpredictable, and impossible to ignore. At first, it felt like a dream come true, a romance that promised endless adventures and thrills.

She remembered the day it all began. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the city as she strolled through the park, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she was shaken from her trance by a gust of wind and a blur of motion.

Pietro appeared before her, his presence so sudden and unexpected that it took her a moment to process. His blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and excitement. He grinned at her, clearly amused by her startled reaction. “You look like you could use a little excitement,” he said with a playful smirk.

Before she could respond, he took her hand in his, and with a swift, graceful motion, he spun her around. His laughter was infectious, and despite her surprise, she found herself caught up in his energy. “Come on,” he said, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Let’s make every moment count. Life’s too short to play it safe.”

The spontaneity of his actions was exhilarating. She was captivated by his charisma, the way he made every moment feel alive and full of possibilities. It was as if he had pulled her into a whirlwind of adventure that she hadn’t even realized she was missing. His promises seemed as fast and unbreakable as his super-speed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he would whisper in the quiet moments between his escapades. “You’re my everything.”

The first few moments were filled with excitement and joy. She went on impromptu trips, explored new places, and lived in the moment. Pietro’s presence was a constant source of energy and happiness. His affection for her was intense, and she couldn’t help but be drawn to him. The way he looked at her, with that unyielding certainty, made her believe that that was something real and lasting.

But as time went on, the thrill of his chaotic lifestyle began to wear thin. The excitement she once felt turned into a blur of constant movement and change. She was often left standing in his wake, struggling to hold onto the pieces of a relationship that seemed to be slipping through her fingers. His presence was intoxicating, but his absence was a cold void that grew larger with each passing day.

One night, as the city lights twinkled outside her window, she found herself sitting in a dimly lit room, shadows dancing on the walls. The silence was oppressive as she finally gathered the courage to confront the growing distance between them. “Pietro, we need to talk,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m scared of where this is going. I need to know what’s happening between us.”

He looked at her, his usual light-hearted demeanour fading away. His eyes, which once sparkled with joy, now held a hint of something distant. “I know it’s hard,” he began, taking her hand in his. “But when I come back, we’ll figure everything out. I promise.”

She clung to his words like a lifeline, desperate to believe that things would get better. She wanted to believe his promises were more than just words, that they meant something real. But the next morning, as the sun rose, he was gone. No goodbyes, no explanation – just an empty space where he had been, a void that seemed to grow deeper with each passing day.

The weeks that followed were cruel evidence to the fleeting nature of his promises. Each day felt like and endless cycle of waiting and hoping, only to be met with disappointment. She found herself endlessly replaying moments in her mind, searching for clues that might explain why he had left so suddenly. The pain was a constant companion, a heavy weight that pressed down on her chest.

The city, once a vibrant backdrop to her adventures with Pietro, now seemed to echo with the emptiness of his absence. She walked through the streets, surrounded by familiar sights, but they felt foreign and distant. The parks they once visited together now seemed barren, the restaurants where they shared laughter now felt hollow.

One evening, she was sitting alone in her apartment once again, the room dimly lit by a single lamp. The silence was deafening, punctuated only by the occasional creak of the building settling. She stared at a photograph of them, her heart aching with every glance. The image captured a moment of happiness that now seemed like a distant dream. “Why did you have to leave?” she whispered to the empty room. “Why couldn’t you stay?”

The agony of seeing him with someone else was a constant reminder of how easily he had moved on. It was as if their entire relationship had been a mere footnote in his life. Each time she saw them together, it felt like a fresh wound being carved into her heart. The contrast between their happiness and her own despair was unbearable. She found herself replaying every moment, every word, trying to piece together where it all went wrong.

Her friends and family noticed the change in her. They saw the way her eyes had lost their sparkle, how she seemed more withdrawn. They tried to offer comfort, but their words often felt hollow. She threw herself into her work, hoping that the distraction would help. She attended social event and tried to appear cheerful, but it was a façade that barely masked the pain she felt inside.

In the midst of this turmoil, she began to grapple with her emotions. She questioned everything – her choices, her decisions, and her worth. She wondered if she had done something wrong, if she had somehow pushed him away. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t about fault or blame. It was about accepting that some people are meant to be fleeting, their role in her life a lesson rather than a forever.

Eventually, she ran into Pietro again. The encounter was both unexpected and charged with an emotional weight that neither of them could ignore. She had been walking through the park, trying to find some resemblance of peace, when she saw him in the distance. He was talking to someone, laughing, and for a moment, she hesitated, unsure if she should approach.

As she walked closer, he looked up and saw her. His expression shifted from surprise to a mixture of regret and apprehension. “Hey,” he said quietly, almost as if he feared her reaction. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She struggled to keep her voice steady, the pain still fresh in her heart. “Of course you didn’t,” she replied, trying to mask the hurt. “You’ve been too busy with your new life. I just needed to know why. Why did you make promises you never intended to keep?”

He looked away, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I thought I could make it work,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “But I didn’t realize how hard it would be. I never wanted to hurt you.”

The weight of his words was crushing. The truth was dark and painful: Pietro’s recklessness was a part of him, something she could never change or fix. His promises were as ephemeral as his speed, and she was left to grapple with the wreckage of her emotions. The realization that he had moved on so easily, that the promises he made were just words, was almost too much to bear.

The conversation continued, each word adding to the complexity of her feelings. “I thought we had something real,” she said, struggling to hold back tears. “But now it feels like everything was just a game to you.”

Pietro’s face softened, and he reached out as if to touch her hand but stopped himself. “It wasn’t a game,” he said honestly. “I did care about you. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. I thought I could balance everything, but I failed.”

His confession was a small comfort, but it did little to ease the pain. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Pietro. I really do. But as for me, I need to move on and find a way to heal from this.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and acceptance. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I truly am.”

With a heavy heart, she turned away, feeling the weight of heartbreak settle deeply into her bones. She watched him disappear into the distance, the pain of his departure a constant reminder of what might have been.

The days that followed were a blur of emotions. She continued to throw herself into work, but the distraction was only temporary. Her friends tried to support her, but their words often felt inadequate. The void left by Pietro was a constant presence, a reminder of the whirlwind romance that had once been.

In the midst of her heartache, she began to find moments of clarity. The pain, while still sharp, started to teach her something. She began to understand that she deserved someone who would stay, someone who would be present and committed. Pietro’s reckless love had left a mark, but it also highlighted the qualities she truly needed in a relationship.

She spent time reflecting on what you wanted and needed. She found solace in her hobbies, reconnected with old friends, and took up new activities that brought her joy. The process of healing was slow, but with each passing day, she found herself growing stronger. She began to embrace the idea that love shouldn’t be a fleeting adventure but a steady presence.

As the months passed, she started to see the light at the end of the tunnel. The pain of Pietro’s departure, while still present, was no longer the defining feature of her life. She found herself slowly moving forward, discovering a newfound sense of peace and strength.

Eventually, she found herself in a new relationship, one that was grounded in mutual respect and understanding. It wasn’t the whirlwind romance of her past, but it was steady and fulfilling. She had learned to appreciate the value of consistency and commitment, and she was grateful for the lessons learned through her experiences with Pietro. She was no longer defined by the wreckage of a past relationship but by the strength and growth she had achieved.

In the end, she found that love, while sometimes reckless and unpredictable, could also be a source of profound joy and stability. The journey was not easy, but it had led her to a place of greater understanding and fulfilment.

Months turned into a year, and life slowly began to take on new colours. She found herself standing in the park again one autumn afternoon, holding the hand of her boyfriend, Brian. His warmth and presence filled her with a comfort she had never known before. They laughed, shared inside jokes, and walked side by side, lost in the simple joy of being together.

Across the park, Pietro stood in the shadows of a grove of trees. His heart clenched as he watched them from afar, eyes fixed on her smile. She looked happier than he remembered, a glow radiating from her as she laughed and leaned into the man beside her. The way she looked at her new partner, with a sense of ease and trust, was a dark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions that had defined their own relationship.

For a moment, Pietro felt a pang of regret, a bittersweet ache deep in his chest. He had once been the one to make her smile like that, to fill her life with excitement and adventure. But now, he could see that what she had found was different – something calm, stable, and lasting. It was the kind of love he couldn’t give her, no matter how hard he tried.

He swallowed hard, feeling a mixture of emotions: sadness, regret, and strangely, a sense of relief. She had moved on. She had found the happiness he had been too reckless to give her. And though it hurt, it also made him feel… grateful. Grateful that she had found someone who could be the constant presence she deserved.

“She’s happy,” he whispered to himself, letting the words hang in the air.

As he turned to leave, he cast one last glance in her direction. The pain was still there, but it was mingled with acceptance. He had been a chapter in her life, one filled with lessons and growth. And now, she was in a new chapter, one that promised the stability and love she had always wanted.

With a sigh, he sped away, leaving nothing behind but a gust of wind. She didn’t notice him, and that was okay. Because for the first time, Pietro felt a sense of peace knowing that she was where she was meant to be – with someone who made her truly happy.

And that was enough.

masterlist

[night-daily]

I'll choose you, always | Peter Maximoff x fem! reader

summary: A guy tries to flirt with you while your boyfriend, Peter, is away on a mission in another country but he finds out and doesn't waste a second in making things clear to him.

warnings: none.

a/n: should i write for peter now??

a/n 2: english isn't my first language so sorry for the mistakes!

Everyone at the mutant school knows you and Peter are together. That you can't be away from the other for long, well more exactly, Peter, your friends say he looks like a lost puppy when you aren't around.

You two come as a package. And it was cute to see you holding hands and acting lovely but sometimes it was disgusting, especially when the others just wanted to grab a snack from the kitchen, but oh surprise, you and Peter are making out. You placed up on the table (or whatever surface is near) and Peter is between your legs, kissing you with passion when he notices the presence of someone else in the kitchen, “can't stop looking creep?” and all they can do is to turn back on their feet and mumbling apologies while feeling their faces turn red.

So when the Professor needed Peter to go on a mission to the other side of the world with Hank, you two spent more time together if that was even possible. Your friends loved your relationship but they wouldn't be lying if they said they weren't happy about you and your boyfriend spending some time apart, “Imagine going to the kitchen and being able to eat a fruit instead of a sexual scene” you would only roll your eyes and laugh.

The day of the mission came, Peter kissed you and promised you to come back soon and you believed him, after all, he was Quicksilver. He and Hank will be off at least for three days, so you could concentrate fully in your classes or at least that's what you thought.

When they left, a few hours later a new student arrived with a grin on his face watching all the girls bodies without even hiding it, but when he saw you walking in his direction, the grin on his face was bigger.

You were deep in thought, not caring about the people around you, “Hey, I'm—” You just walked past him, and his grin disappeared, did you just ignore me? He ran after you and stood in front of you, making you stop and almost fall, he stabilized you by grabbing your arm.

“Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was walking” You apologized and tried to pass him again but the hold in your arm was firm. “If you want to apologize, why don't you show me the school? I'm new and would like some help from a pretty girl like you” Pretty girl, that's Peter's nickname for you, and hearing it from another man's mouth, was gross.

“Don't call me pretty girl, ever again” And your power emerged, the heat from your body was directed to his hand, burning it a bit before he let you go with pain on his face.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next day was very cold, and even if your power was to create fire and you could even regulate your body temperature to avoid getting cold, you didn't, because then you would miss the chance to use one of Peter's jackets and hell you're gonna do that.

You dialed your boyfriend's number and after the first ringtone, he picked up “Did y'know it's 3 am here?” He tried to act mad but you knew by the sound of his sweet voice, he was far to be mad.

“Oh sorry, I would call you later the—” “DON'T YOU DARE” Your laugh echoed through the phone and the halls of your room, he wished he was there to watch the way your smile lightens your face.

“So how's the mission going?” “Awful, it's horrible. I can't believe the Professor sent me on this mission without you, when I get back tomorrow, should I steal his wheelchair in revenge?” Peter replied with no hesitation, “Peter” you said but you were ignored, “I'm gonna return it babe, just gonna do some modifications, I promise”, “Peter you better let me talk or you're gonna need the wheelchair” He stopped talking for a second and even hold his breath.

You opened your mouth but were interrupted again, “I'm gonna need his wheelchair 'cause you're gonna fuck my ass so I won't be able to walk?” “Peter that's not—” But on second thought “Wait, don't distract me, Peter I think it's good for us to spend some time apart, you could make some friends and—” “Who needs friends? I have you! You're not just my girlfriend, you're my best friend too, y'know that right?”

Just his words make your heart beat faster, how could someone have this kind of power over you?

A knock on your door and Peter was groaning, “Oh come on! I just made the best declaration of love and now is ruined” “I'm just gonna ignore it, keep going—” Another knock and you were frustrated just like your boyfriend, “gimme a second” you put your phone on the shelf next to the door.

When you opened the door, you were expecting to see Jean, Scott or just anyone else but him.

“Good morning pretty girl, it's pretty cold, isn't it?” your boyfriend was fuming, who the heck was that guy? and why is he calling you pretty girl? You are his pretty girl! “Yeah, it is. Look I'm busy right now, so could you leave, please?” Your fake smile could be seen miles away but he didn't see it, of course. “So you're cold too? That's great 'cause I was thinking of a way to keep us warm, it includes you, me and your bed...” He got closer to you, making you step back and he took this as a sign to get into your room, “and no clothes”

Peter jumped out of bed like a missile and started running to the mansion, to you. He was pretty sure he had broken his record at the Olympics. When he arrived at your room, you were clearly uncomfortable and he knew you could handle the situation, but there was this feeling in his chest, a heavy feeling yelling at him to do something to the guy who was harassing his girl.

And he listened to this feeling, he grabbed the guy by his shirt, dragging him around the mansion, not caring if he hit his head or a part of his body. When Peter got outside, the fountain caught his attention.

A mischievous smile was on his face, “I think you need a shower, enjoy it” and in one blink, he was in front of you, holding you by your waist, “I will never be separated from you again” and he crashed his lips with yours, you're confused and ready to attack but when you see it's Peter, you relax and return the kiss, crossing your arms behind his neck, bringing closer and making him smile.

[yellow-eyed-sams-wife]

Tidal Wave - Pietro Maximoff x Fem!Reader Oneshot

🎶"Letting go, take control over me Undertow, getting pulled Underneath

Loving you is just like surfing on a tidal wave Lost in one another hopin' never to be found (Loving you) Loving you is just like surfing on a tidal wave Rollin' 'round forever 'til we both come crashing down (Loving you) Loving you is just like surfing on a tidal wave Coming up for air I swear we're just about to drown (Loving you) Loving you is just like surfing on a tidal wave"🎶 •~ Tidal Wave - Nickelback.

                                            ...*.* ~☆~*.*...

"Tidal Wave." - A Pietro Maximoff x Reader Story Playlist ♡《https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLcrnolsANfl08_fv9HXBOaiEOnUxPr9XU&si=1wNkiWHutLo0UO5F

Plot Summary: Love is found on a Christmas vacation in New York city, when yet another villainous attack rattles it wicked way across it.

Part 1 - ["Best Vacation Ever..?"]:

New York City. Despite the less than livable conditions that litter the streets, regardless of the attempts to hide it with broadway and times square glamor, lying strong deep in the dark of it, NYC has it's suprisingly beautiful upsides. Especially in the winter, as a New York Christmas has been calling your name for too long of a time. So you've finally saved up enough funds, you've finally been given a chance to live out one, of your many, dreams. Ever the optimistic lady, (so much so sometimes it borders delusional, your family members have previously told you,) and constantly having your head in the clouds, nothing else could make you happier than to be able to act upon what you've been told is more likely not to happen.

So that brings you here, to the home base of the famed (,or infamous, depending on who you ask,) avengers to spend your holiday.

Strolling through the busy streets, minding your own. Sounds of screams of terror and a small building crashing break you from your carefully figured route.

Frozen in panic, the next thing you know, you're multiple streets over from your point of origin, at a makeshift med camp. At least one hundred people are there having their wounds tended to, meanwhile you're standing there with a dumb clueless look on your face, as the breeze wrecks your hair.

A tap on your shoulder has you turning round to stare into the clearest blue eyes you have ever seen. Quicksilver. He's one of the new additions the media won't stop fawning over. 'Rightfully so' you recall thinking. 'Even tho I'll probably never actually do it, I'd melt to meet him face to face' Now you're 100% a goner.

Lost in fuzzy memories of the brief interviews of his you couldn't help yourself from watching, currently mentally replaying his lovely accented voice. "It's a pleasure to save such a lovely woman. It's one I don't often fortunately have."

Now lost in his eyes on top on being wrapped up in your swarming cyclone of thoughts, it slips your mind to pay attention to what exactly it is that was coming out of his pretty mouth.

Slowly easing out of his, almost uncanny energetic and buzzing happy demeanor as a realization dawns in his enchanting eyes. Understanding now you're obviously still in shock from his save, he promptly asks your name.

Pulled from your anxious haze by his dreamy voice, you give him what he asked for. Albeit internally embarrassed you missed something else he said. Both your eyes meet and you two miss a paramedic getting the attention of the scarlet witch who just arrived to see why Pietro hadn't yet returned.

She finds out they tried separating you two just before she showed up and that their attempts to get the attention of you both fell flat when Quicksilver insisted on a few minutes more with the lady who they assumed needed medical assistance. In the words of Pietro, as they quoted him, "You have others to attend to, do you not?"

The paramedic was just trying to do their job but couldn't when Quicksilver wouldn't leave your side, as though you were attached at the hip despite just meeting. He wasn't doing anything wrong, really, you were the last civilian in harm's way.

He already evacuated everyone else and the rest of the avengers can take this villain without him. If they could only read his mind like Wanda could, they wouldn't blame him for hovering. He wasn't trying to overwhelm the poor lady but she seemed so shaky and still hadn't talked much.

You only gave him your name. Though he was unsure why he was so invested in the well being of this pretty stranger and couldn't figure exactly how he couldn't move on to something else even half as fast as he normally could, he couldn't bring himself to care about that at the moment.

Wanda understood her brother like no one else and her powers only strengthened their familial bond. Though this could most likely be the start of something more for her brother and the nice young woman, she still needed to let the paramedic examine her. Walking up to you two, she introduced herself as his sister and gently pulled Pietro from your side.

He reluctantly went, though the pep in his step quickly returned and was quite visible as Wanda telepathically told him that he can check on you right after they were done your checkup. 'Thankfully,' Pietro thought, 'you can't see through the paramedic.'

🌟💛🌟💛🌟💛🌟💛🌟💛🌟💛🌟💛🌟💛🌟💛🌟💛🌟 💛🌟💛🌟💛

Like, follow with notifications and reblog if you're interested in a part two.                        💋sincerely yours, yellow-eyed-sam's-wife.

[ro-is-struggling]

Could I request prompt number 16 with Peter Maximoff (the X-men one), where the reader is the owner of the handcuffs. She’s kind of a nerdy tomboyish type, who’s not suspected because everyone knows she’s got net zero experience when it comes to dating. I think she’d probably have them because what if the opportunity to have sex finally arrived and she didn’t have all of the gear? What sort of fool would she look like then? Maybe not as much of a fool as… say a woman who was explaining her stock pile handcuffs to the guy she still hasn’t confessed to… If possible I’d like it smutty please!

Hi lovely! Thank you so much for participating in the celeration (and sorry it took me so long to get to your request). I had a lot of fun writing this one! I tried to make it smutty but for some reason I couldn't :( It's more funny and fluffy than smutty, but there are a few suggestive okes here and there, I hope you don't mind and that you like it anyways!!

The one with the embarrassing secret || Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: A mysterious pair of black handcuffs is found which leads to a search for their owner and some embarrassing confessions

Warnings: fem!reader, my attempt at humor, suggestive tones, fluff

Word count: 4500

This fic is part of my 600 followers celeration

When Charles asked you to fix up the room down the hall on the second floor you didn't think much of it. You were excited to meet the new occupant of the abandoned room and although cleaning wasn't your favorite thing to do, at least you knew you wouldn't be doing it alone. Jean, Scott and Peter were with you and you were optimistic that you could get the job done if you put in a little effort —especially if Peter dropped the jokes and used his powers to help you. 

That room had been unoccupied for so long that sometimes you forgot it even existed. It was a dump where things that no one used anymore were stored, so it was a total mess. You were so overwhelmed by the amount of things there were to do that you didn't think about the fact that you also used that room as your personal junk stash a couple of times. So you set to work without thinking about the embarrassing things you had hidden there from your former roommate, certain that you had retrieved them all the moment she left school.

That was until you heard Jean let out a gasp of pure surprise, emerging from the closet with a pair of black leather handcuffs in her hand. The world around you stopped for a moment as panic spread throughout you. The blood all over your body rushed to your face, the shame evident in your expression as you realized the horrible mistake you had made. You knew you should never have bought that stupid being. You didn't need it. You didn't even have a partner! You should never have listened to that stupid magazine article. It didn't make sense, to fuel the flames of passion in a relationship you first had to get one, something you felt would never happen. Not with your shy and awkward attitude at least. 

"Who do you think these belong to?" Jean's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You let out a sigh as you looked at their expression of confusion and curiosity, realizing there was no way they could know the handcuffs belonged to you. You just had to keep your cool so as not to arouse suspicion and they would eventually grow tired of the subject, wouldn't they?

"Well, I hate to be the one to say it but this is Charles' house..." Scott said and everyone winced —yourself included— at the implications of his words.

"Eww, Scott, gross!" Jean punched him in the arm to shut him up. "I don't want to think about the professor like that!"

"You asked!" The boy defended himself, stroking his arm where Jean's fist had impacted against his skin. Although he recognized that the mental image of Professor X's private life, someone he respected and loved like a father, was not a pretty one.

"Maybe these belong to Raven," she suggested as she inspected the handcuffs in her hands. You remained silent, returning to your chores as your friends talked. It was better for them to think they were Raven's than to find out they were yours. "I mean, she lived here too and she kinda looks like she'd be into this stuff."

"I don't know," Scott hesitated. Realistically they could belong to anyone, even people they didn't know. Many mutants had passed through the school for gifted youngsters and many others had sought refuge there. It wasn't exactly easy to deduce who owned such a scandalous object.

"Whose else could they be?" said Jean, though she was interrupted before she could continue her speculation. 

Peter, who had remained silent playing with junk he was finding while moving a couple of boxes, interrupted his friends' conversation when an idea formed in his mind. Using his abilities, he snatched the handcuffs from Jean's hands before she could do anything to stop him. "I know who can help solve this little mystery!" he stated with a smile, dangling the handcuffs on his fingers playfully.

"Who?" you asked him, fearing that he somehow knew the handcuffs were yours. Instead of answering you he disappeared from the room for a split second and when he returned he had on a dark leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses in his hand.

"This is a case for Detective Brad Steel, FBI," he said, speaking in a deeper tone of voice than usual as he put on his sunglasses. He looked at you with an exaggeratedly dramatic look in his eyes, acting like he was on a detective show and this was the most important case of his career.

No one could contain the laughter, not even you. You were amazed at Peter's ability to come up with stupid things that made you laugh. He had a great imagination and got bored easily, a combination that was the perfect recipe for disaster 90% of the time. Oh, but that remaining 10% where things didn't go terribly wrong was usually hilarious for everyone involved. Peter was a fun guy to have around and always knew just what to do or say to make you laugh. That was one of the things you liked most about him.

"Why doesn't Brad Steel stay to clean up like he's supposed to be doing?" you said looking at him with a raised eyebrow and your arms crossed. You knew full well he was using that as an excuse so he wouldn't have to stay and tidy up. He was like a little kid who got bored easily, especially when it came to tasks like cleaning and organizing. His world moved too fast to make sense of such things. "We could really use your talents to help out with this mess, Peter."

"I'm sorry, but Brad Steel has more important things to do. His talents can't be wasted with such trivial chores when there's so many mysteries out there that need to be solved!" Peter explained in his exaggerated FBI detective voice. You opened your mouth to complain, ready to argue with him to make him stay, but he vanished from the room before any of the three of you could say anything about it.

"Let him go," Jean said, resuming her chores. "He probably would have slowed us down more than helped us anyway."

You thought you were safe. After Peter left, you all focused on cleaning and tidying up the room as quickly as you could so you could get out of there. The conversation did not return to the subject of the handcuffs, the object easily forgotten now that you no longer had it lying around. You really thought that for once the universe had sided with you, quickly releasing you from the embarrassing moment and allowing you to have a second chance. All you had to do now was wait for the buzz to die —something you didn't think would be very difficult as Peter got bored easily with everything—, and then you could retrieve the handcuffs and make them disappear forever.

However, your hopes that this disaster would die quickly were crushed when you saw Peter talking to Professor Xavier. He still had his sunglasses on, so you didn't have to be very close to them to guess what they were talking about.

"Who used to stay in that bedroom?" you heard Peter ask a very confused Charles. "Or perhaps it was always a storage room?"

"I... I don't know, I don't remember." The professor muttered, looking at the boy with a frown. "Why the sudden interest in the room? How is any of it relevant to cleaning and organizing?"

"It's not, he's just joking!" You intervened in the conversation before Peter said something stupid. "We were bored while we cleaned up and we started a game, but it's all done now so the new guy can move in!"

You didn't give Charles time to answer you, you just gave him a smile and pushed Peter away from him. "What are you doing?" you asked him in a whispered shout. You couldn't believe he had dared to go up to the professor to ask him questions about the room. You had to stop his stupid game before things blew up in your face.

"I'm working the case," he said as if it were obvious, shrugging his shoulders.

"He can't know about this!"

"I wasn't going to tell him! I was just asking around to see what he could remember." Peter defended himself, throwing his hands up in the air at your accusing look. 

"No, you were avoiding work just like you always do." You complained, crossing your arms over your chest. "Besides, do you really think he wouldn't figure it out? He's a mind reader!"

Peter rolled his eyes, annoyed at your persistence. He didn't understand why you seemed so concerned about the matter. It wasn't like you knew who owned the handcuffs, so why did you seem so concerned that Charles wouldn't find out. Unless... you were hiding something. 

It didn't make sense in Peter's mind that you were the owner of the handcuffs. You weren't the kind of person anyone pictured when thinking of someone who used those kinds of sex toys. You were too innocent and indifferent to the world of love and sex for that. In fact, Peter wasn't even sure you had any experience with it. But that didn't mean you were completely ignorant of the subject. Maybe you knew who the real owner was. Maybe it was a friend you were trying to cover for. Maybe he knew the owner himself and didn't know it. 

That idea piqued Peter's curiosity and unfortunately for you, that meant he wouldn't let go until he got to the bottom of it.

"Why do you care so much about people finding out about it?" 

His question threw you off as you didn't expect him to pick up on your discomfort so quickly. Your brain froze for a moment, your mouth hanging open as it struggled to come up with a good lie that would get you out from under the spotlight. However, when you saw the look in his eyes you knew it was too late.

"I-I don't care." You lied, shrugging your shoulders in a desperate attempt to look relaxed. "I just think it's dumb and it could be embarrassing for whoever owns these to have the whole school spreading rumors about it." Peter squinted at you, inspecting your expression for signs that would confirm his suspicions. 

"I think you're lying." He said after a few seconds of silence. "I think you know something about this whole thing and you don't want to tell me."

"I do not!" You exclaimed in a high-pitched tone that immediately gave you away.

"Are you sure about that? Because my detective instincts are telling me otherwise." He teased you, looking at you with an amused smile plastered on his face.

"Well, your detective instincts suck then cause I don't know anything." You were starting to get nervous, speaking at a rapid pace and in a high-pitched tone that was unusual for you. Peter knew you well enough to know when you were lying, but even if he didn't, it was pretty obvious.

"Why are you so nervous then?" he stepped closer to you, invading your personal space with his presence. His eyes never left yours, staring at you with a paralyzing intensity. It was hard to focus when he was so close to you. It was like he knew the effect he had on you and was using it to his advantage. Your poor brain that was already having trouble functioning properly lost all hope of recovering. You needed to get out of there, get away from him before you ended up saying something you would regret. 

"You're making me nervous with your stare!" You said without thinking about how he might interpret that phrase.

"I make you nervous?" Peter repeated, looking at you with an arched eyebrow. You felt the blood in your entire body travel to your face from embarrassment at his implication. He was right to assume that, but it wasn't what you had meant. 

"Not like that!" you were quick to correct. "I mean you make me nervous with youe accusatory looks."

"Why? Are you hiding something?"

"No! You know what? Forget it! Do whatever you want, I don't care." You did care, you cared a lot, but you knew that this conversation with Peter would get you nowhere. He seemed more interested in teasing you than anything else and you were dangerously close to saying something stupid, so you decided it would be best to walk away. You headed back to your room, climbing the stairs to the second floor as fast as you could. However, when you reached the last door in the corridor you discovered that Peter was waiting for you there, leaning against the wood. 

"You can't escape from me, you know that, right?" he said arrogantly, giving you a cheeky grin. 

"Ugh, I hate when you do that!" 

"No you don't."

No, you didn't. But you still rolled your eyes, faking annoyance. 

"Go away, I need to do stuff."

"What stuff?"

"It's none of your business. Let me pass."

"Not until you tell me what you know."

You let out a frustrated sigh at his persistence. It was clear that Peter wasn't going to drop the subject anytime soon and you weren't sure how much longer you could put up with his questions. He was going to learn the truth eventually, of that you were sure. His curiosity and persistence would not allow him to drop the subject. It was a matter of how and when he would find out what was at stake.

And then it occurred to you that maybe if you told him the truth, if you controlled the way he found out everything, it would be less embarrassing for you. You knew that if you told him and asked him to drop the subject he would because you were friends and Peter wasn't a complete jerk. He would playfully tease you from time to time, sure, but he wouldn't seek to really hurt you. 

"If I tell you, will you let it go?"

Peter's eyes lit up at your words, like those of a child getting his way. "I pinky promise!" he nodded, raising his hand and stretching out his pinky finger for you to shake. You shook your head, unable to believe what you were about to do, but shook his finger, sealing the promise. 

You pushed Peter into your room, closing the door behind you to make sure no one heard you. The last thing you wanted was for the rumor to spread around the school, that was a kind of humiliation you weren't prepared to face. He watched you intently as you paced around the room, waiting for you to speak. It was clear you were having trouble finding the right words —or the courage to utter them— which made Peter even more confused. Why was this subject affecting you so much?

"Spill it out already!" Peter exclaimed when he couldn't stand the silence any longer. His voice brought you back to reality, stopping you on your feet as your eyes locked on him. There was no easy or non embarrassing way to say what you had to say, and you knew that dragging it out would only make everything worse. Just like removing a band-aid, sometimes it was better to be quick and precise to get things over with as quickly as possible. So you took a deep breath and blurted out your excuses as fast as you could, barely breathing between words as you tried to explain your reasoning to a very confused Peter.

"You have to understand it was an impulse buy, I don't even know why I did it... in fact I was going to throw them away, but I forgot where I put them and I-"

"Wow, wow, wow, slow down a minute!" Peter interrupted you, surprise written all over his face. "Are you saying these are yours?" You felt the blood travel to your face once again, igniting your skin from the embarrassment you felt under Peter's curious gaze. You didn't trust your voice to answer him, so you just nodded your head slightly, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole so you wouldn't have to face him anymore.

"How? I mean, no offense, but you don't seem like the kind of girl who would even know about these, let alone own a pair."

"Cause I'm not!" you said honestly, trying to defend what little was left of your dignity. "I haven't even had-" You stopped abruptly before finishing the sentence, realizing that confessing to the guy you liked that you were a virgin was as embarrassing as admitting that you had bought a pair of handcuffs for no apparent reason.

"You've never had sex?" He asked you after a few seconds of silence. Your gaze dropped to the floor, too embarrassed to look at him as you shook your head. If he didn't think you were pathetic before, you were sure he did now. "Then why did you buy these?"

You shrugged, unsure how to answer. Honestly you didn't even know why you did it, you just blindly followed the advice of a women's magazine —a mistake you weren't going to make again. "I don't know... I thought I might need them. There's this guy I like and I've been building up the courage to ask him out and I was scared he might think I'm lame or something if I don't have all this stuff."

Peter could tell that all this was a sensitive subject for you, so he tried to be as serious and understanding as possible. He approached you, taking a few steps until he could touch your face with his hand. He lifted your chin carefully, forcing you to look at him as he spoke. "You're not lame for not having experience in this stuff." He said in a soft voice. "And if anyone ever makes you feel that way then they're a dick and don't deserve your attention."

Hearing Peter say that put a smile on your face. His reassurance made you feel a little less pathetic, it wasn't enough to repair your bruised ego, but it did make you feel better to know that he didn't see you as a loser. You knew everyone else did, even if they didn't say it to your face. You were the weird girl who didn't fit in and had never been on a date. How could you when you acted like that? No guy would find you attractive! You weren't very feminine, always opting to hide in baggy clothes. You also didn't pay as much attention to your appearance as other girls your age seemed to do, and you weren't even interested in the world of dating and romance. It all seemed so complicated to you that just thinking about it overwhelmed you, so you were pretty sure you would die alone.

"So, who is it?" Peter's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. 

"Huh?"

"Who's the guy that you like, the one that you bought these for?" Peter twirled the handcuffs in his fingers, fiddling with them as he gave you an amused smile. He was back to his usual goofy self, trying to lighten the mood with his jokes.

"It doesn't matter!" you were quick to say, trying hard to control your imagination and not let it picture Peter doing something more than teasing you with the handcuffs in his hand. 

"That makes me think that it does matter," he remarked with amusement. "C'mon, who is it? I wanna know, please tell me." Peter spoke, stretching every syllable to the point that it was annoying —just like a child who wants to convince an adult to listen to them. He always did that and you usually found it amusing and adorable, but this time it was different because you just couldn't give in to his demands.

"That wasn't part of our deal."

"Yeah, cause I didn't know there was a special someone. Tell me who it is! I deserve to know."

"No you don't!"

"You're right, but I want to know so tell me, pleaseee."

"No!"

"Is it someone I know?" You tried to control your expressions, to remain serious so as not to expose your feelings, but it was pointless. Somehow he knew, you saw it in his eyes and in the smirk he was giving you.

"No. Actually, you don't know him." You lied, struggling to control your micro-expressions. You spoke casually, faking disinterest to see if it would get him off your back. But you sounded too casual, too disinterested, and Peter knew you were lying. 

"I do know him!" he gasped at the realization. "Who is it? Is it Scott? You know he's in love with Jean, right?"

"It's not Scott!"

"Then who? Kurt?" Peter made a funny face, finding the image that had formed in his head of you and Kurt together weird. You were friends, but he didn't picture you as anything more. You weren't compatible. Even though you were both innocent, your personality was too intense for him. That would never work. 

"No, ew, he's my friend!" It was your turn to cringe this time. "He's nice, but I don't like him like that. He's not my type."

"And who is your type?" 

You fell silent, admiring Peter's warm eyes. 

'You are my type,' you thought, feeling your heart race under his intense gaze. He was the one guy you wanted to see you in a special way, the one you sighed for when he passed you by. He owned your heart, but you couldn't tell him. Especially not now after he found out one of your most embarrassing secrets. 

"It's none of your business." You said simply after a few seconds of silence, turning your back to him to escape the vigilance of his beautiful eyes. 

But Peter could tell something was wrong, his instincts giving him an answer to the questions you refused to answer. It was the sparkle in your eyes and the strange tension in the air that gave him the hint. You looked at him as if you wanted to tell him something, as if you were biting your tongue to keep your heart from leading you to make a mistake. He couldn't think of a single reason why you'd try so hard to keep your mouth shut, unless....

"Is it me?" Peter asked you, appearing in front of you in a flash. His sudden movements would have surprised you if it weren't for the fact that you were used to being around him already. Being friends with Peter came with his weird behaviors and silly jokes. No, what surprised you were his words. How had he noticed? Were you so obvious?

You didn't know how to answer so you didn't say anything, you just looked at him, letting your eyes speak for you. You couldn't have formed a coherent sentence even if you wanted to, you were too mortified to do so. Your brain was spending all its resources preparing you for the worst, screaming at you not to cry the moment Peter rejected you. You knew he would try to be nice about it —there wasn't a single ounce of malice in that boy's heart—, but it would still hurt, and the last thing you needed at that moment was to humiliate yourself any further.

However, the rejection never came. Not even a look of awkwardness on his part. He only moved closer to you, invading your personal space as he reached out to caress your cheek. 

"I need to hear you say it." He spoke, his voice almost a deep whisper. It took you a few seconds to process his words, brow furrowing in confusion at the gentleness of his touch. You were expecting to be rejected, even mocked for the stupid secret Peter had just discovered about you. But instead he looked at you with a special shine in his eyes, admiring you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him at that moment. That threw you off, your brain too stunned to stop your lips before uttering the most sincere response you could at that moment.

"it has always been you."

There wasn't much more you could say because Peter's lips silenced you as they crashed against yours in the most anticipated kiss of your life. You didn't have much experience in the area, but you knew that was the best kiss you'd ever had so far. Butterflies flew in your stomach and colorful fireworks exploded behind your eyes as you let him guide you, taking control of the kiss. His lips tasted sweet, like candy, something that didn't help you want to pull away from him. But eventually your lungs betrayed you, forcing you to break the kiss so you could breathe.

"I'm flattered you bought these thinking of me," Peter spoke, twirling the handcuffs in his fingers. He had a mischievous smile plastered on his lips, but there wasn't a trace of malice in his eyes. He wasn't trying to mock you, he was just trying to make you feel good about yourself. "But we don't need to use them. We can take things slow, go at your pace."

You appreciated his thoughtfulness. It was a sensitive subject and Peter wasn't precisely known for being the most serious person. But he was really going out of his way to make you feel comfortable, from the gentleness in his eyes to the calmness in his voice. He wanted to be counted as much as you wanted to be with him, and he was going to do everything he could to make his work.

"I'd like that." you smiled at him and he gave you a quick kiss on the lips as a way of sealing your commitment to each other.

"But I'm keeping these! You never know when they might come in handy." Peter put the handcuffs in his pocket, giving you a suggestive wink that did nothing but earn him a slap on the shoulder from you.

"Gross!" you grumbled, though you ended up laughing at the exaggerated scowl Peter gave you.

"Excuse me? I wasn't the one that brought them. You're the gross one for putting weird ideas in my head. I was actually as pure as a dove before you presented me with such a filthy object!"

"I'm already regretting this." you said, rolling your eyes. But Peter didn't care, he knew you weren't serious. He knew you well enough to know when you were joking and when you were really upset with him. He could always tell in your eyes, something changed in them when he crossed a line. He didn't know how to describe it, but it was obvious when it happened, so he always knew when to stop joking. 

And at that moment, despite your crossed arms and your look of annoyance, he could see nothing but love in your eyes.

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

No Spoilers Epilogue (Avengers X Reader)

Characters: Avengers X Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Mention of injuries, drugs/strong medication, pain

Request: No Spoilers Pt 5 Epilogue.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The last few days had been a bit of a blur for you, partially because of Bruce ensuring (and the rest of the team’s insistence at any sign of discomfort) that you were on some good painkillers while recovering from your stunt that you pulled, and partially because you hadn’t been allowed to leave your temporary accommodation at Stark tower, which other than the one wall of pure windows that let you look over New York, kept you locked away from the rest of the world. You had tried to leave and walk around, but the entire team had been watching you like a hawk since you got back, and they always pushed you back into bed to rest. 

So when you had managed to make it one floor down to the living area, the place where the team had been hanging out when Ultron attacked, you considered that a new record, and awarded yourself by limping hunched over to one of the couches and collapsing onto it with a deep sigh. You ran your hands over the fabric, remember that it had been over a year since you felt it, over a year since you had last been in the tower. Over a year since you had said yes to going back home without realising it. Despite the aching and soreness that still resonated with you, you were happy to be back. 

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be in bed.” The voice of Rogers made you groan, shutting your eyes and pouting. You heard his footsteps and others stop in front of you, but you didn’t open your eyes to see who else was there. “You need to rest, Y/N. You’re still recovering.”

“Can I not recover in another room?” You commented in response. “I walked all the way down here by myself, and I’m fine. A change of scenery is nice. I’m going stir crazy.” You grumbled, finally peeking your eyes open, seeing Natasha, arms crossed, and Wanda. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that you still absorbed the power of almost every infinity stone, as well as took the power of Wanda, Vision, Stark, Danvers and Thor, and like it or not, all that and the explosion itself damanged your body. How many broken ribs was that again?” Natasha asked, turning to Wanda. 

“3.” She responded shortly. 

“The powers Stan-Lee gave me means I just absorbed that stuff like a sponge. The broken ribs, cuts and bruises was technically from the rocks that fell on me after killing Thanos.” You pointed out. 

“Doesn’t make it better, Y/N.” The voice of Bruce spoke up, and you sighed as he, Stark and Barton came into view now, and not long after, Thor, Pietro and Vision. 

“This feels like Deja Vu” You commented with a grin, looking up at them as they stood over you, seeing some of them look confused at your commented. “Remember how we met? You guys surrounding me after I fell out my portal?” You reminded, and you saw recognition in the face of the original members. 

“Stop trying to distract us- you’re due another dose.” Bruce reminded.

“Noooo. I’m fine. I don’t want anything else. Not yet.” You begged, crossing your arms.

“Y/N.” Stark said your name, sounding like a disappointed parent. 

“No drugs. Not for a while. Please.” You insisted. “They knock me on my ass and make it hard for me to focus on anything. They make me sleep.” 

“Which is what you need.” Clint pointed out. 

“No.” You insisted, this time a lot sterner. “I just got back. I’ve barely been able to process it since I’m constantly drowsy or just asleep… From the day I said yes to Lee to send me back, I was told by everyone around me that this-” You insisted, waving your hand at them, and then poking the couch “Wasn’t real. I told them all about you guys, what I experience, felt both physically and emotionally, and they told me I just had an extremely long manic episode. Friends, family, medical professionals, everyone told me none of this is real, and after a year of that, I was genuinely starting to believe them. Now I’m back, and… I just… let me feel this. I want to be able to feel the fabric on the couch, to be able to hear you guys say my name when I’m resting… I need to feel this-” You said, now placing your fingers roughly against your bandaged side, making yourself wince at the pain “To know this is real, okay? That they were wrong- that I’m not having another so-called episode, that I’m actually here with you.” You insisted. The group remained silent, but their faces were solemn, processing your words, and your experience away from them. “No drugs.” You said, looking at Bruce. 

“Alright… but we don’t want you in pain… so how about something a lot weaker and in smaller doses? It’ll make it bearable but… you’ll still be aware, conscious and in some pain, but able to walk around as long as you rest frequently.” Bruce bargained. 

“I’ll take that.” You agreed. “Now can I please do something that doesn’t involve me being locked away in my room?” You asked. 

“You mentioned a movie.” Wanda said, coming and sitting on the couch beside you. “You didn’t go into the details- just that you wanted the new movie about us, about what happened in Wakanda. You didn’t have much time to go over what happened. Will you tell us?” She asked. The team found their own seating, some pulling pieces closer, Steve and Tony sitting on the coffee table in front of you, Pietro sitting on the floor at your feet, Natasha seeing on the arm of the couch beside you, the others littered around, other than Vision and Thor who stood. 

“...Actually there was more than one… there was one on Thor… though it seems with Bruce not going to space after Ultron, things happened different for him as well, but he was still able to reconnect with Loki, and another plus was Loki living… not sure how that happened, though.” You admitted, seeing Thor frown. 

“You didn’t mention that part.” He commented quietly to himself.

“Then there’s the Guardians of the Galaxy movies- those were the aliens that helped us and the one human guy. For them, The green girl- Gamora, is Thanos’ adopted daughter and he was supposed to kill her to get the Soul Stone, but that didn’t happen either, so they’re happy.” 

“What about the girl that you somehow knew Fury knew how to contact? Danvers?” Clint asked. 

“She didn’t show up in this movie- but at the very end of it in the after credits, when everyone was turning to dust- including fury, he called her right before, and it showed her emblem, hinting at a movie with her soon.” You explained. “Thought it couldn’t hurt to have him all her before- throw everything at Thanos for the best possible outcome, y’know?” You shrugged.

“I have a question.” Tony spoke up. “When you came back- you told Peter he got ‘dusted’ as you put it, and that his senses realised something happened… who else? Out of the team?” Tony asked. You tensed a little at the question. You looked at everyone in front of you, your mind flashing to the images you saw on the big screen, how each one made your heart ache…

“Well… excluding those who were supposed to be dead already- looking at you, speedy… Peter, most of the Guardians other than Rocket and Gamora’s sister- her and Tony are the only ones who come back from the space travel adventure I stopped you going on- Dr Strange, T’Challa, Fury, Hill, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, the entirety of Clint’s family… and those who are supposed to die in the actual movie… Loki, Gamora, and Vision, all at the hands of Thanos.” You listed, your voice monotone, sounding tired. The room was awfully silent. 

“Was that why you insisted on me not being involved at all in the fight?” Vision spoke up, and you nodded. 

“You watched that? On a giant screen, you saw me, and the other turned to dust?” Wanda asked. Another nod. “And you came back to help us? Knowing if things went wrong, you’d have to see it all again?” 

“Of course I did.” You smiled sadly at her. “Despite the year of everyone telling me this was all fake, that you didn’t exist… when I saw what happened to you all, I… I mourned. I mourned all the way home, and when I got there, Stan was right there waiting for me. Everything was raw in my mind, so when he gave me the chance to stop this happening to you, even at the expense of never seeing my family or old friends again or living a relatively safe life… It was worth it. A billion times over. And hey, by doing that, I also saved my world, even if they’ll never know it.” You smiled sadly. 

“Well.” Tony sniffed,  running his hand over his face to hide any sign of being teary eyed. “In that case, we owe you a massive thank you… and how better than a giant party? Give it another week of course so you can actually dance a little.” Tony decided, making you chuckle. 

“We’re not at risk of another Ultron thing though, right?” Clint jokes. 

“Sorry guys, I’m no longer a prophet- this timeline is officially deviating from the original plot, and we just went through the latest movie for me- I have no idea what the future holds for us- but at least I’m not completely useless and have these cool new powers.” You joked.

“How’s ‘Rechargeable battery’ as a nickname?” Pietro asked as he stood up, heaving you up to your feet, wrapping your arm around his shoulder for support, making you laugh, even if you winced a little at the movement. 

“We’ll discuss our new Avenger member’s superhero name while we organise a new medication plan in the lab.” Bruce said, pointing the way, the entire group going along with you, discussing the new party, who will be going, you and Thor vouching for Loki, Wanda and Pietro making song suggestions, the noise of bickering, laughing, and playful teasing within the group something you missed dearly, and so happy to have back.

You made the right decision, and you didn’t regret it. Not one bit.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort  @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog@mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @hello-love-youre-pretty @werosemagic @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines@huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

[pretty-little-mind33]

Pietro Maximoff x stark!fem!reader

Summary: You've always hated Pietro for his player tendencies—turns out he's never hated you at all.

Genre: Fluff, hurt and comfort (enemies to lovers)

Warnings: implied fuck-boy!Pietro, reader is Tony Stark's daughter (no physical description), reader hates Pietro in the beginning, mentions of blood and gun wounds, swearing, because Sokovia isn't real- I used Czech as Pietro and Wanda's language (i don't speak Czech so i used translating sites…if it's wrong, pls tell me)

~ thank you to the anon who requested this! this is my very first time writing for Pietro, please tell me what you think! ~

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

Your father has always been overprotective of you. 

He usually doesn't involve you with his affairs when you're with him and not at Mom's, choosing to have your room as far from any Avengers as he possibly could. At sixteen, you didn't like this—you felt like you deserved to live normally in your own home—so when he asked you to become friends with his newest members, Twins from Sokovia who also happened to be sixteen, and make them feel welcomed, you were more than happy to do so.

You liked Wanda Maximoff from the first moment you met her. She seemed quiet and shy in the beginning, but she also has this fiery side to her that you admire. She never took shit from anyone, including her brother. 

Pietro Maximoff was very different from his sister. You remember standing in your room, your dad by your side, with an unamused Wanda in front of you as a blue blur sparked across the room, occasionally skidding to a stop and knocking over some books or picking up some trinkets and making unnecessarily judgmental and overly excited comments.  

"Pietro," Wanda hissed, "Přestaň (Stop it)."

His sister's warning had only made his grin widen, his silver hair falling over his strikingly blue eyes as he returned next to her, his arms crossed. "Promiňte (Sorry)." You didn't know what he'd said, but it didn't sound like he meant it. 

"Wanda," he pointed to his sister as he introduced her, and then his grin turned into a smile. "Pietro," he said, pointing to himself, and then he outstretched his hand with no awkwardness or hesitation. You looked down and then up at him again, turning to your dad with an unsure expression but when he nodded, you shook Pietro's hand.

"Y/n," you whispered with a smile, and as you shook his hand, what could have been the start of a wonderful friendship, should have started that day. 

Should have.

In the beginning, it was childish teasing—which involved stealing things from your room and hiding them around the tower because it made Pietro laugh, running past you in the halls so quickly you'd almost fall over, or jokingly ruining any chances with any boys at school because he'd stick his nose in business that never involved him. 

Most of the team and your dad found your banter funny—encouraging the same boys will be boys' bullshit that meant that as the years passed, your dislike for Pietro only worsened. 

It especially didn't help when, by seventeen, he'd found out he was pleasant enough to look at and that girls seemed to adore his boyish charm. So, any chance he had, he'd either heavily flirt with girls at school, or find excuses during missions to pick up any pretty girl he came across. 

Of course, this behavior only increased in his twenties and made him all the more annoying—especially since you began working the coms and the computer for when the team was out on missions. Ever since Ultron, your dad now trusted you more than a robot. 

You're curled up in your chair, your headphones on as you watch the multiple screens in front of you. Some have news outlets playing out the scene while others have the biometrics of Iron Man's suit and the others' suits to make sure all is well. You also have every member in your ear as your fingers glide over the keyboard.

"Dad?" you switch the coms and touch the microphone. 

"Yes, Y/n?" Tony Stark's voice echoes in your headphones and you smile. 

"I can try and hack into the network of that bastard's suit if you want?" 

"Actually, Y/n, can you locate Quicksilver for me? He was supposed to evacuate all the civilians but I can't reach him anymore. Could you try? He always answers you,"

Great, Pietro duty—again.

"Can't I do something more useful?"

Tony chuckles, making you glance at one of your computer screens where you can see him hovering in the air, protecting the civilians on the ground from some shit-bag escaped prisoners who had taken over some secret government-type weaponry and causing all kinds of havoc.

Steve and Natasha seem to be handling the situation with some tact, while Wanda looks like she's having fun crunching the weapons in the men's hands with her mind. All in all, the team seems like they're handling things just fine without Pietro around. 

"Quicksilver is useful to me, darling. I know he's not your favorite person right now, Y/n, but he's a valuable member of my team and I need you to find him for me."

You huff. "He was never my favorite person," you whisper roll your chair over to another keyboard, and disconnect Tony from your headphones. You bite your cheek and hit enter. "Pietro? Hello?"

No answer. 

You change the signal. 

"Wanda?"

"Hello!" Wanda answers and you hear some commotion in the background. 

"Where's your brother?" you ask, "he isn't answering me."

"I don't know," Wanda says and after a moment she adds, "I can feel him though."

"Thanks," you say, although she'd been completely unhelpful. All you'd learned was that Pietro was definitely alive—which wasn't really a concern of yours since you hadn't assumed something happened to him. You just assumed he was missing.

"Y/n?" 

You hear him in your headphones and you quickly change the channel again, pressing your lips closer to your microphone. "Pietro," you say.

"Yeah?" Pietro sounds like he's running, "What's up, Princezna (Princess)?"

"Don't call me that," you say, knowing damn well he'll call you that anyway. He always has. "Tony wants you. Where have you been?"

Pietro laughs. "I got a little distracted, Moje srdce (My heart)." You hear what sounds like another pet name—he calls you that from time to time you just refuse to ask him what it means.

You want to ask him what he means by distracted, but you assume it has something to do with him getting some girl's number so you don't want to know anymore. "I'm on my way back now so no need to worry your pretty head about me."

"I wasn't worried about you," you say instantly, "I was ordered to find you. Very different."

"Sure, Princezna, sure," Pietro says, his voice husky as he stops and takes a breath. "When are you going to fess up and admit you like me, hm? This cat-and-mouse game has been fun and all, but c'mon, what will it take for you to understand? Tady mě zabíjíš (You are killing me here)."

"Understand what?" 

"Understand that I–" Just as he speaks, you hear more familiar voices and shouting in the background and you look to one of the screens from a news outlet where you can see that Pietro is back with the team, only he's not running anymore. No, he looks like he's swaying. You stand to look closer at the screen. 

"Pietro?" you call into the mic, trying to understand what happened until you see him fall to the ground, clutching his side as his blue suit stains red. He must have stopped running for a moment and one of the fucking assholes dressed in machinery must have shot him. You panic and run to an opposite computer and change the channel one last time. 

"Wanda?" you whisper, your voice hoarse and shaky as you look back at the screen and see that Clint has found Pietro, and Wanda is running up to them too. "W-Wanda?" you try once more, watching her on-screen as she tends to her brother and ignores you.

You feel completely powerless.

* * *

When everyone comes home, you feel stupid as you greet them. Most of the Avengers send you sympathetic smiles as Tony walks up to you. Clint, Wanda, and Pietro aren't with them. You look up at your dad, feeling embarrassed that you're worried for someone you claim to hate.

Tony's expression softens as he hugs you stoically, he's not much for this type of affection but he can see you need this as you bury your nose into his shoulder. 

"He's being checked now but nothing serious," your dad sounds calm, "he's fine, darling."

You pull away, forcing a look of nonchalance as you. "I- I know that I- I didn't care either way," you lie shamelessly.  

Tony shakes his head, sounding exhausted when he says, "You're so stubborn, just like your mom." He ruffles your hair and kisses your forehead. "You can see him in a bit, I'm sure. I'll tell Wanda to come find you when he can have visitors."

You nod and spend the next few hours pacing your room, nibbling at the skin around your nails until you taste blood and finally, someone walks into your room—only it isn't Wanda. It's Pietro himself. He's wearing a slightly wrinkled tank top and a pair of slacks hung loosely around his hips. It's almost sinful. He grins cockily and runs a hand in his hair, his shirt riding up to expose his stomach. You stare at him, wide-eyed and your hand drops from your mouth. 

"What are you doing out of bed?!" you say, sounding more worried than you'd intended.

"What are you? My máma?" Pietro laughs and leans against the edge of your vanity. "I heal quick," he shrugs and looks around your room. He hadn't been in here in a while. He smirks. "Still sleep with Teddy, hm?" he hums. 

You feel warmth in your cheeks and you send your poor beaten-up-with-love Teddy-Bear a glare as if it was his fault you still slept with him in your arms at twenty-four. "Ha ha, funny," you mumble and move to stand in front of Pietro so he can't make fun of any more of your belongings. "No– I don't. Can you leave now?"

Pietro crosses his arms and tilts his head, his blue eyes piercing into yours. "Stark said you wanted to see me." 

Of course, he did. 

You narrow your eyes. "Well, I have seen you and I see you're fine so now I've changed my mind," you say with a shrug and point to your door, waiting for him to make the decision and leave. 

"You don't even wanna ask why I was distracted out there?" Pietro says and a smirk curls his lips.

"No–"

You feel the wind in your hair and in a blink, he's standing much closer to you with a slight pant—as if he'd just run—and he's holding a small bent bouquet of roses in his hands. He holds them out for you and you stare at them in disbelief. 

"What are those?"

"Roses."

You glare at him. "I know that but why?"

"I saw them and thought of you," he says so nonchalantly you almost don't believe him.

"What? When?"    

"When I was helping the civilians," Pietro shrugs and his eyes are intense. He pauses after a moment and raises his hand, his knuckles skimming your cheek. You freeze, warmth spreading all over your cheeks as you panic internally. "Saw them in the park and I wanted to get them for you."

Your eyes widen. "Isn't that illegal?"

Pietro smirks. "Not if it's done in the name of love, Princezna."

"I don't think that's how that works—" Realization dawns on you and you feel like you're spinning. "Wait, wait, what did you just say?" 

Pietro laughs and his hand moves to tuck some hair behind your ear, smiling. Maybe he's excited but you can feel his skin vibrate on yours. Your heart is pounding so heavily and your mind is screaming at you that this is all a trick and this is what he does with girls. He throws around the l-word and expects women to fall at his feet. He's a player.

"What I was trying to tell you before I was rudely shot, is why haven't you caught on and understood that I'm madly in love with you?"

What?!

You blink at him and then take a step away from him, shaking your head as you force a laugh. "Pietro, this isn't funny. It isn't funny to mess with me like this. You know how I feel about you playing with my feelings—"

Pietro frowns. "Playing with you?" 

You roll your eyes. "Please, it's just not funny, okay?"

"You think this is a joke, mé srdce (my heart)? Ach, můj drahý (Oh, my dear)," Pietro says in a whisper and moves closer to you again, his hand reaching for yours as he hands you the roses.

"I'm not messing with you. I tease you sometimes, but my feelings are real. I haven't messed around with any women in years—minus that mistletoe kiss—" he rubs his nape, mentioning the time you'd caught him and an office girl kissing at last Christmas party. He didn't mean for that to happen, and even less for you to see him. 

You're really trying to understand him now but nothing is making sense. "You have feelings for me?" You whisper, your eyes wide. You feel like you've entered some alternative reality. "You can't just say things like that now, Pietro. It's not fair."

His expression turns more serious than you've ever seen him. "I'm not saying this lightly, Y/n. I know I've been a jerk to you, but I was a stupid kid who didn't know how to express his feelings and then it was too late because you hated me. But, I have always cared for you, miláček (darling). I really have."

You move back, your eyes round, processing his words. All those years of childish teasing, all those petty arguments you'd had, and all the jealousy you've felt suddenly hit you like a train and you're left broken and bruised. He had feelings for you? You've been pushing him away because you were scared of how you felt about him.

"Why now? Why did you choose to tell me all this now?" you ask, shaking the roses in your hands as your voice trembles.

Pietro exhales. "Because when Wanda mentioned me how worried you were about me, I realized how much I need you in my life. Need you beside me. I didn't want to hide my feelings anymore— and I picked those flowers wanting to confess anyway. I want to be with you, Y/n. No more games, just us."

You feel a mix of relief and fear. Deep down, you've wanted to hear this for so long, but it's as terrifying as you'd imagined. You look up at him, walking in closer and you can hear your heart in your throat when you run a hand in his silver hair, holding him and pulling him down to meet his lips.

You've convinced yourself this would be confirmation. Confirmation that this was a bad fucking idea. Instead, his kiss is intoxicating and it makes your mind go all fuzzy. Of course, he'd be good at this, he'd been quite the whore—your thought is interrupted by Pietro pulling you in closer and deepening the kiss, his hand finding your hip. 

You gasp, leaning up into him as the world as you'd known it crashes around you. 

"Sakra, Princezna (Damn, Princess)," Pietro murmurs into your lips, holding you close. "This is so much better than I imagined."

"You imagined this?" you say, sounding more teasing than you'd anticipated as you're left breathless from his kisses. 

Pietro hums. "All the damn time," he admits and kisses you again.

After more kisses, he finally pulls away. "So, is that a yes? You want be with me too?" he asks hopefully and you look into his eyes, taking in his excitement. You don't dare even think of breaking his heart as anyway, your swells at the mere thought of being his. 

You nod but then smirk and pull him back in for a kiss, your hand fisting his shirt, "Kiss me some more and then I'll tell you."

And he does just that.

[tyrian-witch]

⚡︎ Peter Maximoff ⚡︎

Series

The Silver to My Gold (X-Men Rewrite) (0/?) (in the making)

One speedster mutant is bad enough, but what about when there’s a winged speedster too? That’s double the speed and double the trouble and double the hate from the non-mutants. But hey, that just means there’s some friendly competition and love in between, right? (Fem!mutant!reader!)

One-shots

Incorrect quotes

Blurbs/Imagines

[itzsephig5]

2.4 (B Me)

My Masterlist

This story on Wattpad

Intro - Age of Ultron 1.0 1.1 1.2 1.3 1.4 1.5 1.6 1.7 1.8 1.9 1.10 1.11 1.12 Intro - Civil War 2.1 2.2 2.3 2.3.5 2.5 2.6 2.7 2.8 Intro - B Me 3.0 3.1 3.2 3.3 3.4 3.5 3.6 3.7 3.8 3.9 3.10 3.11 3.12 Updated Character Info 3.13 3.14 3.15 3.16 3.17 3.18 3.19 3.20 Final Character Info

Important info for chapter:

miláčik - darling

Y/n's POV:

"I still can't believe that when Tony, Rhodey, Natasha and Pietro left, Tony took all the remotes. Like what the fuck." I whined as I laid on Wanda's bed. I heard Wanda laugh at my reactions. "I don't know why he did miláčik. But there are other things we can do while we don't watch TV." Wanda tells me. "Also why is Vision on babysitting duty, he's technically younger than both of us." I continue to complain. I feel a dip in the bed before I saw Wanda was on top of me. She kissed my lips quickly before pulling back. "Calm down Y/n. We'll figure everything out." She says before going to lay next to me. I placed my head on her stomach. "How are you feeling from earlier? Still nauseous or are you better from when you threw up?" Wanda asked with concern in her tone. I let out a hum. "I still feel slightly nauseous to be honest." I say. "Do you know why? I mean you've been feeling sick the past few days." She brings up. I shook my head. "I probably just ate something wrong." I answered. A few moments passed as the two of us laid there. "Can I admit something?" I asked Wanda. "Of course. Tell me what's on your beautiful mind." Wanda tells me. I rolled my eyes slightly while blushing at her comment. I hear her laugh slightly. "I just." I started. "I just don't know how to feel about any of this anymore. Everything I thought about being an Avenger, being a hero, is just crumbling around me. I'm mad. I'm mad that it's gotten to the point where the team is divided. I'm mad because this just doesn't feel right anymore. I just want to leave." I say. "I get what you mean." Wanda says. "I find myself relating more to the ones we label as the bad guys." She adds. "Yeah. Me too." I say. We kept talking for a little bit before my stomach grumbled. Wanda started to laugh again. "Hungry?" She teases. I just rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Someone is cooking something, and I can smell it. It smells really good." I say before sitting up. "Like they're making two dishes." I mentioned. I feel Wanda grab my hand as she pulled me up and towards the kitchen.

When we got there, I saw Vision cooking something. "Is that paprikash?" Wanda asked. I remembered she told me that was one of her favorite meals. I looked over at the oven and saw lasagna in it. "And lasagna?" I asked. That was one of my favorite dishes because mom made it a lot. "I thought these dishes might lift both of your spirits." Vision said. Wanda went over to the pan to see what was happening while I walked over to the oven. I opened it slightly to smell the lasagna. "Spirits lifted." I hear Wanda say before I closed the oven door and turned around. "Yeah, this is good." I say before walking over to stand next to Wanda. "In my defense, I haven't actually ever eaten anything before. So." Vision tells us. "May we?" Wanda asked. "Please." Vision says. Wanda pulls me closer and grabs a few different ingredients that Vision had out. I grabbed a spoon to take a taste of the paprikash. Wanda had taught me how to make it. My nose wrinkled slightly when I realized where Vision made a mistake. I grabbed one of the ingredients to add more of. "Wanda? Y/n?" I hear Vision ask. "Hm." Wanda says. "Yeah?" I asked. "No one dislikes you guys." He says. "Thanks." Wanda says. I added another one of the ingredients to the pot. "Oh, you're welcome. No, it's an involuntary response in their amygdala. They can't help but be afraid of you both." Vision says. "Are you?" I asked. "My amygdala is synthetic so..." He trailed off before I snorted in response. Wanda laughed a little. "I used to think of myself one way. But after this." Wanda says as her powers start to glow around her fingers. The red wisps. I lifted my hand up to hold hers, my own powers, the orange wisps, circle around our connected hands before merging in with Wanda's powers. "I am something else. I'm still me, I think." I added onto what she had said. We both felt the same way about our powers. "But that's not what everyone else sees." Wanda finished before letting our hands fall and our powers disappear. I looked up to see Vision touch the mind stone in his forehead. "Do you know, I don't know what this is?" He mentions. "Not really. I know it's not of this world, that it powered Loki's staff, and gave you both your abilities, but it's true nature is a mystery. And yet, it is part of me." He says. "Are you afraid of it?" I asked. "I wish to understand it. The more I do, the less it controls me. One day, who knows? I may even control it." Vision explains. I watch Wanda turn to look back at the food. "I don't know what's in this, but it is not paprika. Y/n and I are going to go to the store. We'll be back in twenty minutes." Wanda says. "Yeah, no offense Vision, but if the lasagna tastes off, I'm going to prefer a store bought one." I say as Wanda and I start to walk towards the door. "Alternatively, we could order a pizza." Vision tells us. "Vision. Are you not letting us leave?" I asked him seriously. He starts to block us. "It is a question of safety." He tells us. "We can protect ourselves." Wanda says. "Not yours. Mr. Stark would like to avoid the possibility of another public incident. Until the Accords are on a more secured foundation." Vision tries to explain. I scoffed. Of course, Tony thinks Wanda and I are going to cause another incident if we go out. "And what do you want?" I asked annoyed. "For people to see you guys as I do." 

[eleonoraalbright]

Evil of the Thriller

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Excerpt: You heard the door slam and realized it was too late. There was nowhere left to run or even hide. A cold hand clutched you shoulder, and you wondered if you'd ever feel the warm sun against your cheeks and enjoy the sweet, summertime air with you friends. Would you ever see them again? Would you ever see Peter again?

A/N: The gif below doesn't really have anything to do with the story. I just found it sorta halloweeny and funny. Also, there's a little bit of mild gore.

Something moved in the bushes behind you. Spinning around to see the source of the sound, you saw nothing. You took a deep breath to calm your rattled nerves. Maybe walking in the dark by yourself wasn't a good idea.

You did a complete three-sixty to see anything suspicious, but the grounds of Xavier's Institute were silent, except for the occasional hoot of an owl and the slight breeze that rustled the leaves.

Ten minutes ago, it seemed the perfect opportunity to take a peaceful midnight stroll. Now you were regretting the decision. You stood still and peered into the shadows of the trees in the distance.

Was someone or something lurking in the darkness? That was absurd though. The school was protected by state-of-the-art equipment and regularly tested, and who would attack the mansion with the X-Men ready to defend it? Managing a small smirk, you stepped forward to saunter among the maples and oaks of the forest under the beautiful moonlight.

You froze, however, when the shadows shifted in an unnatural way and emerged a sight which almost stopped your heart. You were paralyzed as a monstrous horror, fixated on your figure, stalked closer.

No help was to be found, there was only yourself. Raising your hand, you sent an explosive shock wave concentrated at it. The hideous creature crashed into a thicket of black spruces, but it rolled sideways and continued toward you.

You blasted it repeatedly until your hands were aching. The beast was nearly upon you when you began to run faster than any Olympic runner has or ever will. In just mere seconds, you reached the door and flung it open. You bolted it shut and shouted into the empty foyer.

The others needed to be alerted to the beast clawing at the entrance. Professor X could freeze it with his mind, Ororo could strike it with lighting, Peter could race it to the ends of the earth. They could succeed where you had failed.

Sprinting up the stairs and down the hall, you banged on doors and shrieked for the students to wake up and kill the monster waiting for them outside. No one came. The rooms were vacant and the beds deserted. You were alone.

You heard the front door crash and realized it was too late. The horror was already inside. There was nowhere left to run or hide. A cold hand clutched your shoulder, and you wondered if you'd ever feel the warm sun against your cheeks and enjoy the sweet, summertime air with your friends.

Would you ever see them again? Would you ever see Peter again? Tears fell from your face and onto the floor for the heinous fate that awaited you.

Closing your eyes, you hoped this beast was only a figment of your imagination. Yet hallucinations don't creak floorboards or hold you in a death grip. You were out of time. This was how you died, no last-minute escape, no daring rescue, no second chance to live.

You turned your head to see the thing that was your death and let out another scream of terror. Forty, huge eyes leered back at you with each eyeball oozing blood that gushed over to its sharpened fangs.

You attempted to use your powers and struggled to get as far as you were able to from the monster, but to no avail. There was no escaping the blood-soaked jaws that meant the end of your life. Demons appeared and joined in feasting on your body.

Teeth plunged into your neck, stomach, and arms. You unleashed hellish screams and wails that signaled your demise. You wished it could be over and that death would release you from this earth-shattering pain.

You were awakened by someone shaking your shoulders.

"Wake up! Wake up!"

Your eyes fluttered open. Peter knelt next to you, looking scared. Bolting upward, you wacked your arms to rid yourself of the devils eating them. You touched your neck, making sure it was attached to your head.

Peter secured your arms to your sides and said, "Woah, are you okay? What happened? You've been screaming in your sleep. Did you have a nightmare? What's wrong?"

You fought against him while sobbing that a beast was here, and it was devouring you. Then his words echoed in your ears. You've been screaming in your sleep. Did you have a nightmare? What's wrong? A TV was playing a horror movie.

On a table was a bowl of half-eaten popcorn, the wrappings of multiple candy bars, and two empty giant-sized bottles of soda. Pillows and blankets were piled on the couch where you were sitting.

It dawned on you that Peter and you were having your annual Halloween movie marathon. Did that mean the gruesome occurrence that you experienced was nothing more than a nightmare? Was it all fake?

You clutched Peter as if he was the last anchor to your sanity and broke into a fresh set of tears. They were tears of relief. The monster was not real and never would be. Your limbs hadn't been torn apart for demons' dinner, and Peter hadn't abandoned you.

He rubbed your back. "I don't think we should watch anymore tonight," he murmured and clicked the TV off.

You pulled away from his embrace, placed your hands on either side of his confused face, and kissed him flat on the lips. It was a wonderful, tingling sensation that forced you to completely accept reality. You stopped as soon as you started, not wanting to make Peter uncomfortable with your sudden action. "Sorry, I-"

"Hey, I didn't say I wasn't enjoying it." He smiled and resumed the impassioned kiss.

Afterwards, you asked him to stay, and he gladly obliged. When he heard about your nightmare in nauseating detail, he offered to fetch anything to make you feel better.

You rejected this because all you didn't want him to leave your side even for a split second; all you needed was him. Peter comforted you the entire night and promised to protect you from the evil of the thriller.

[moonbeamoclock]

This doesn’t include fics that are tagged properly btw.

All of the ones that cater to a specific physical or emotional trait that explicitly says so in the tags/description are totally valid and welcome.

In cases like that I can follow the writers advice and just keep scrolling or send it to someone who does have one of those traits because I understand that the story is not meant for me but to tag as a story that is for me (or meant for everyone) and then be mad when people say “hey! this isn’t actually for me, why did you advertise that it is” is ludicrous.

Hot take that shouldn’t be a hot take:

my biggest pet peeve is when people tag something as a x reader but it’s actually an oc…..i got to the last chapter of a fic only for the description of the ‘reader’ to be of a white person.

then the author got nasty with me after i called her out about it but that’s whatever

it takes an extra 2 mins to have a generic description of a person rather then give the details of their appearance but some of y’all are just too lazy to do even that

[highprettybabyy]

Seeing Red

Part 12 - Garden Guest

jenna ortega x fem!reader apocalypse au

summary: something they find in the yard uproots their whole day..

warnings: enemies to lovers, typical apocalypse stuff, violence, blood, zombies, gore, maybe angst... some fluff...

AN: do you trust me? :)

word count: 4.2k

Part 11

—//—

The morning was slow to break over the villa, and neither of you were in any rush to meet it.

The soft glow of a greying dawn filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting a silver wash over the bedroom. Dust floated lazily in the cool morning air, stirred only by the slow, steady breathing of the two bodies tangled together under the blankets.

You were still wrapped up in each other - a knot of limbs, the warmth between you a small defiance against the world outside. Jenna's face was tucked against your neck, her fingers resting lightly on your ribs, as if she were anchoring herself without even realising it. Your hand was nestled against her back, half-fisted into the fabric of her borrowed shirt.

Neither of you moved for a long time.

You were both awake - you knew it by the subtle changes in breathing, the small, unconscious tightening of Jenna’s arms around you, the way her fingers drummed the faintest rhythm against your side.

Still, you stayed like that.

Breathing. Feeling.

Alive.

Eventually, Jenna shifted just enough to press a drowsy kiss to your collarbone, a quiet gesture that made your heart squeeze in your chest.

You smiled into the crown of her hair, breathing in the faint scent of her - smoke, leather, something warm that was just her.

The words hovered between you like fragile things.

One of you had to break the quiet.

Jenna beat you to it.

She pulled back slightly, propping herself up on one elbow so she could look down at you. Her dark hair fell around her face in messy waves, her eyes soft but serious.

“I need to say something,” she murmured, her voice rough with sleep and something else - something that made your stomach flip.

You nodded, heart hammering under your ribs.

She licked her lips, seeming to search for the right words, then huffed out a breathless, almost amused sound.

“I don’t really know when it happened," she said. "Maybe when you were patching me up without even blinking. Maybe when you taught me how to bake a rock-hard loaf of bread and laughed like it was still the best thing in the world."

You chuckled softly, but she silenced it with a look - not unkind, but intent.

"Or maybe it was the way you never gave up," Jenna continued, her voice low and earnest. "The way your eyes light up when you figure something out. How you argue with me like you're not even a little scared. The way you... make me feel alive again."

Your breath caught.

Jenna smiled, a little self-conscious now, and nudged your knee gently with hers under the blanket.

"And you know," she added, letting a teasing lilt creep into her tone, "you’re an amazing cook, and I’m pretty sure if you left me alone, I'd starve in about three days."

You barked out a laugh, unable to help it, and playfully shoved her shoulder.

Jenna laughed too - soft, breathy, beautiful - and the sound curled around your heart like a brand.

The mood shifted again - that quicksilver vulnerability threading its way back into the space between you.

You swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks heat, but you met her gaze head-on.

"I, um," you started, and immediately wanted to crawl under the blankets forever.

Smooth.

Jenna just waited, patient and open, her fingers finding yours under the covers, twining them together without a word.

You squeezed her hand, taking a breath.

"I always... felt something with you," you said, your voice quiet but steady. "Even back then. I always wondered if things were different... if we were different... if something more could have happened than that time in the bathroom."

You felt Jenna’s thumb brushing small circles into the back of your hand, grounding you.

"And now," you said, voice growing a little stronger, "they are different. Everything's changed. And somehow... I can't imagine anyone better to be stuck with."

You winced a little at your own word choice. "Not stuck-stuck. I mean- stuck sounds bad. I don’t feel stuck. I actually feel-"

You broke off, huffing out a breath, cheeks burning.

Jenna’s mouth twitched, but she stayed quiet, letting you flail adorably.

"I feel free," you blurted. "For the first time. Like we could... do anything we want. Build anything we want. And I want that. With you. I want to... be with you."

The words hung there, fragile and shining.

Jenna smiled - slow, aching, radiant - and leaned in.

"No pressure," she whispered, brushing her forehead against yours. "Slow. However you want."

You nodded, heart lodged somewhere in your throat.

"Slow sounds good," you whispered back.

Jenna kissed you - soft and tentative at first, just the barest brush of her lips against yours. You melted into it, clutching at her shirt, breathing her in, the heat of her mouth, the safety of her hands on your waist.

It wasn’t like before - not desperate, not frantic.

It was a promise.

A beginning.

When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested together, both of you smiling like idiots.

Jenna gave you one last lingering look - then bumped her nose against yours with a quiet, playful sound that made your chest ache.

You stayed like that for a little longer, just breathing the same air.

Eventually, Jenna shifted, glancing toward the window where the morning light was beginning to spill fully into the room.

"We should check the house," she said reluctantly, voice still low and a little hoarse.

You groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed.

Jenna laughed and tugged at your hand. "Come on, partner."

You grinned.

"Partner," you repeated, liking the way it sounded on your tongue.

Maybe everything had changed.

But some things - like the way you made each other feel - that was real.

And you were ready to fight for it.

-

The house still felt like it belonged to ghosts.

The floors creaked under your socked feet as you padded after Jenna, both of you still wrapped in the sleepy afterglow of the morning. The air smelled faintly of dust, old wood, and the floral body spray you had found in the ensuite.

Jenna walked ahead, barefoot, the cuffs of her borrowed sweatpants dragging a little over the floors. She carried her Glock loosely at her side, still cautious, but relaxed enough to hum under her breath.

You didn't even realise you were staring until she turned around, catching you mid-stare with an amused eyebrow raise.

"See something you like, Y/N?" she teased, smirking as she adjusted the waistband of her pants.

You rolled your eyes dramatically but couldn't stop the flush from creeping up your neck. "I'm just making sure you don't fall through the floorboards, you klutz."

"Right," she said, grinning. "Concern for my wellbeing. Totally not ogling."

You bumped her shoulder as you passed her, trying to hide your grin, and she laughed - really laughed, the sound echoing around the empty villa like sunlight.

You checked room after room together, the battered torch in Jenna’s hand throwing long, shaky shadows along the walls.

Most of the rooms were barren, stripped bare by whoever had abandoned the villa first. But little traces of life remained - dirty laundry in the baskets, sticky notes on the desk, a cracked picture frame of a smiling family still perched on a dusty nightstand.

Their dog was cute. It looked like a golden retriever mixed with a Great Pyrenees, maybe something else too - but you couldn't tell more from the picture.

You paused in one of the guest bedrooms, brushing your fingers lightly over a bookshelf crammed with old paperbacks. Jenna watched you from the doorway, her smile softer now.

"You should take some," she said, nodding toward the shelf.

You hesitated.

It felt like stealing from the dead.

But Jenna crossed the room and gently tugged a book from the shelf - The Phoenix Keeper, worn and water-damaged - and pressed it into your hands.

"They would've wanted them to be read," she said simply.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and tucked the book carefully under your arm.

You continued exploring.

In the garage, you found a bike with a flat tyre, a semi-rusty set of gardening tools, and - jackpot - a battered but still-functional wheelbarrow.

Jenna grinned at your triumphant whoop when you found it.

"We're gonna be unstoppable," you declared, already plotting how many supplies you could haul with it.

"You were unstoppable before the wheelbarrow," Jenna said, nudging your hip with hers. "Now you're basically a god."

You snorted, pushing the wheelbarrow in circles around her until she was laughing too hard to aim a mock kick at you.

The sunlight outside was brighter now, filtering in through the cracks in the boarded windows, turning the dust motes into tiny floating stars.

You checked the last of the ground floor - the kitchen, the laundry room, the sprawling sunroom - and found nothing worse than a few spiders and an ancient, abandoned bird's nest tucked into a corner.

Finally, you ended up back in the living room, panting a little from the effort and grinning like fools.

"Clear," Jenna declared, holstering her pistol with a little flourish.

"Clear," you echoed, throwing yourself dramatically onto the nearest sofa - a huge, overstuffed monstrosity that smelled faintly of musty linen.

Jenna flopped down beside you, her leg pressing warmly against yours.

You both sat there in companionable silence for a moment, watching the dust drift lazily through the air.

You tipped your head to look at her.

"So," you said lightly, nudging her knee with yours. "What now?"

She turned her head too, meeting your gaze with a softness that stole the breath from your lungs.

"Now?" she said, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "We build something better."

You swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest.

Because somehow you knew - she wasn't just talking about walls and gardens and solar panels.

She was talking about this.

About you.

About us.

You nodded, blinking hard, and reached out to lace your fingers with hers.

She squeezed your hand once, firmly.

And for the first time since the world ended, you really, truly believed:

You were going to be okay.

-

The garage smelled like old oil and dust, sunlight slicing through the grime-caked windows in long golden streaks.

You sat cross-legged on the concrete floor, manuals splayed open around you like the petals of a very technical, very boring flower. A thick binder labelled Transfer Switch Installation & Portable Generator Safety weighed heavy on your lap, and you scribbled notes across a battered notepad you'd found tucked into one of the villa’s kitchen drawers.

Across from you, Jenna perched on the edge of the workbench, swinging her legs idly. She picked up a screwdriver, twirled it around her fingers, dropped it with a clatter, then sighed and inspected her nails like the very concept of electricity was a personal insult.

You glanced up from your manual, smiling fondly.

"Are you even listening to me?" you teased, tapping the paper with your pencil.

"Uh huh," Jenna mumbled distractedly, picking up a wrench this time and pretending to be fascinated by it.

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head. She was trying - in her own, very Jenna way.

After another minute of reading aloud - something about load balancing and proper grounding - you finally lost patience. You dropped the manual onto the bench with a thud, stood, and walked over to her.

Her legs stopped swinging immediately.

You didn't say anything. Just placed your palms softly - but firmly - on either side of her jaw, cradling it between your hands. Jenna froze, eyes wide.

You leaned down slightly, your voice dropping into a teasing, sultry whisper. "You see," you murmured, brushing your thumb lightly across the curve of her cheek, "you have to connect the neutral wire properly to avoid any backfeeding into the service panel..."

Jenna's pupils dilated instantly.

You kept going, speaking about circuits and polarity like it was the most seductive thing in the world, your voice low and syrupy.

"And once the main breaker’s off," you breathed against the shell of her ear, "you can backfeed power through the transfer switch into the subpanel."

You heard - felt - her breath hitch.

And then you both burst into laughter, collapsing against each other, your foreheads bumping clumsily.

"You’re an idiot," Jenna giggled, wrapping her arms around your waist and tugging you closer.

"I'm entertaining," you countered, grinning as she tilted her head up and kissed you - all soft, smiling mouths and shared amusement.

It was easy, natural, that kiss. Familiar like breathing.

When you broke apart, you rested your forehead against hers for a moment longer, soaking in the way she still smiled like you were her favourite thing in the world.

"Okay, nerd," Jenna said finally, squeezing your hips gently. "Show me how it’s done."

You kissed the tip of her nose before pulling back with a wink. "Bossy."

You got to work.

Jenna - after solemnly promising not to touch anything important - handed you tools as you crouched next to the generator and the villa's main electrical box. She got it right about seventy percent of the time, and the rest of the time you just rolled your eyes and went to get the right spanner yourself.

"Hey, it’s not my fault they all look the same," she huffed when she handed you a socket wrench instead of a torque wrench.

"They literally have numbers on them," you said, laughing, tightening the last connector.

You were both dressed in makeshift safety gear now - heavy gloves, protective glasses scavenged from a shed out back, and even an ancient rubber mat from the laundry room placed under the generator in case of stray currents.

You double-checked everything. Triple-checked.

"Moment of truth," you said, hands trembling slightly from nerves and excitement.

You threw the main transfer switch.

Nothing.

You froze.

Jenna straightened from where she'd been sitting cross-legged next to the generator, her face stricken. "Did we- did we fry it?"

"No, no," you said quickly, mentally running through every step. "Just- just a minor hiccup. It’s fine."

You knelt again, tracing the wiring, heart hammering. Your fingers found the problem - a single loose ground connection, hidden behind a panel.

You fixed it, teeth gritted, hands steady.

"Okay," you breathed, wiping your forehead. "Try again."

Jenna hovered over your shoulder, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

You flipped the switch again.

And this time-

wwwhhhrrzzzZZZZZZZZZMMMMMM

The villa hummed back to life.

Lights flickered on, chasing away the dusty gloom. Somewhere upstairs, a ceiling fan creaked into motion. The soft whoosh of the central AC system kicking in filled the silence, flooding the air with blessedly cool streams.

You heard the heated bathroom floors kick on with a muted click.

You and Jenna stared at each other in stunned silence for half a second.

Then you screamed.

Wordless, giddy, overjoyed.

Jenna screamed too, laughing, grabbing your hands and spinning you around the garage like lunatics. You twirled her, she stumbled into your chest, and you both collapsed against the workbench in hysterical laughter.

"We have electricity," you gasped out between fits of giggles.

"We have HEATED FLOORS," Jenna crowed.

You laughed until you couldn’t breathe, until you slumped together against the workbench, dizzy and sparkling with the victory of it all.

You could survive this.

You could thrive in this.

Together.

-

Naturally, celebration meant one thing: cookies.

You raided the kitchen, digging through your stashes until you found a collection of half-melted chocolate bars, mystery sweets, and a crumpled bag of flour.

Jenna watched you from her seat on the counter, a mischievous glint in her eye as she unwrapped bar after bar of chocolate.

"You realise," she said, carefully breaking a piece off and popping it into her mouth, "I’m mostly here for quality control."

"You’re supposed to be cutting the chocolate," you said, laughing as you tried to salvage the mess of wrappers and crumbs.

"Semantics," she said, mouth full.

You shook your head fondly, mixing the butter and sugar together with a wooden spoon you found. The oven preheated behind you, filling the kitchen with warm air.

Soft conversation flowed between you, low and affectionate. You talked about the villa. About what you wanted to build. About maybe planting an orchard if the seeds you had sprouted properly next spring.

You snuck glances at Jenna, barefoot on the counter, sleeves pushed up, chocolate on her chin.

God, you were so gone for her.

You dropped spoonfuls of dough onto a baking tray and slid it into the oven.

The smell was heavenly.

When Jenna tried to reach for one straight out of the oven, you slapped her hand away with the wooden spoon.

"Let them cool first, babe," you scolded, biting back a grin.

Jenna froze.

Then smirked, eyebrows arching playfully. "Babe?"

You flushed hotly but stood your ground. "You heard me."

She leaned in, grinning. "You gonna call me that every time you boss me around?"

"Maybe," you said, before kissing her soundly.

The world outside could fall apart again tomorrow.

But right now, there were warm cookies, working electricity, and Jenna Ortega smiling at you like you were her whole world.

-

The morning sun had burned off most of the mist, leaving the villa bathed in crisp, golden light. Beyond the house, the sprawling garden stretched out - wild, tangled, but still breathing life into the broken world.

You and Jenna pushed through the back door, boots crunching against the stone steps leading down into the yard.

The villa grounds were... huge. A high iron fence encircled the entire property, though in places it sagged and bent from years without care. Multiple smaller fenced areas sectioned off parts of the land - remnants of what must’ve once been pens for livestock. Goats, maybe. Chickens. Rabbits. Whatever had been here, though, had either broken out or... well. You chose to believe they’d made it out, ran off into the woods in search of greener pastures.

A little further out sat the neglected farming plots. Wilted cornstalks rattled softly in the breeze, brittle and brown, and faded tomato vines curled around collapsed wooden stakes. But not everything had died.

You spotted flashes of stubborn green among the decay - strawberries, somehow still thriving in a wild, overgrown patch; a few beans clinging to dried vines; a brave little zucchini plant with a few enormous fruits half-buried in the soil.

You whistled low under your breath, shading your eyes.

"This could work," you murmured.

You started ranting off anything and everything you could possibly need for a farm - gesturing vaguely with your hands to where you wanted everything to go.

Jenna scribbled fiercely onto a battered notepad, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration. She already had a running list: seeds, fertilizer, better tools, fencing wire, irrigation parts…

You watched her for a moment, affection tugging at your chest. Then, grinning mischievously, you plucked a brilliantly red strawberry from the patch. It was warm from the sun, its skin glowing like a ruby.

You held it up between two fingers. "Open."

Jenna arched an eyebrow suspiciously but obeyed, parting her lips slightly.

You popped the berry into her mouth with a gentle push of your thumb against her bottom lip.

She bit into it - and immediately her eyes widened.

"Oh my god," she mumbled around it, chewing slowly. "That’s... that’s illegal. That’s criminally good."

You laughed, brushing a leaf from her hair. "Only the best for you."

Jenna rolled her eyes but blushed, ducking her head back to her notebook. She added more strawberries to the list.

You turned your gaze back toward the farmland - imagining it cleared, organized, alive again. You could almost see it: rows of green, chickens wandering, goats bleating from a mended fence.

Hope bloomed quietly in your chest.

You took a few more steps, carefully picking another ripe strawberry.

Then -

CRRRAACK.

You froze.

The sound echoed off the old shed at the edge of the property - a low, strange snapping noise, like wood giving way under pressure.

You dropped into a crouch without thinking, hand flying to the machete strapped to your thigh.

Jenna mirrored you immediately, Glock in hand, eyes scanning the treeline.

“What the fuck?” she whispered harshly. “We clear this place every day. How the hell did it get here??”

"The fuck do I know??" you hissed back. "And why does it sound so weird?"

Jenna looked around, wide-eyed. "Oh my God, this better not be like The Last of Us. Y/N, if they start fucking mutating, I swear to god-"

You clamped your hand over her mouth.

"Shut up and cover me, babe," you whispered, your voice a threadbare whisper of nerves and teasing.

Jenna rolled her eyes but tightened her grip on the Glock, moving to flank you like you'd practised.

Another snap - closer this time.

You moved carefully, boots silent on the soft dirt, weaving between the tangled tomato vines and the half-fallen trellis.

The air felt too still. Like the world was holding its breath.

You gripped your machete tighter, heart hammering in your throat.

You edged around the corner of the old chicken coop - and froze.

"Omg," you croaked.

"Y/N WHAT-"

"JENNA," you whisper-yelled, waving frantically for her to come closer.

Jenna darted to your side, eyes scanning, ready to kill.

And then she saw it.

Standing there in the overgrown zucchini patch, blissfully unaware of the terror he’d caused, was a dog. A massive dog. His coat was matted and tangled, a sun-bleached mixture of gold and creamy white. He was gnawing contentedly on a zucchini the size of your forearm.

He paused mid-bite when he spotted you - tail thumping against the ground once, twice, before he straightened and loped toward you with an uncoordinated, galloping enthusiasm.

"WE HAVE A SON," you whispered, eyes wide with wonder.

"What??" Jenna gasped, staring like she couldn't comprehend what was happening.

The dog skidded to a stop in front of you, tongue lolling, big brown eyes sparkling with excitement. He wagged his whole body, snuffling happily against your jeans.

Jenna crouched slowly, hand outstretched.

The dog pressed his wet nose into her palm with a soft huff.

“He’s friendly," she whispered, voice trembling slightly - overwhelmed.

You raked a hand through his thick fur, scratching behind one floppy ear. "He’s perfect."

You could feel the ribs beneath his coat - too thin - and you promised yourself then and there you’d fix it. You’d fix him.

Together, you coaxed him back toward the house.

-

You spent the next hour in a whirlwind of brushing, cleaning, and feeding.

Jenna laughed breathlessly as she wrestled a brush through his tail, while you scavenged the pantry for anything resembling dog food. Miraculously, you found an unopened bag tucked behind a stack of flour.

You filled a metal bowl with clean water and watched, misty-eyed, as he drank like a man starved.

"He must’ve been surviving off the garden," you murmured, watching him lap up every drop.

"Smart boy," Jenna said, scratching his ears. He wagged his tail so hard his whole back half wobbled.

You trimmed away the worst mats from his fur, cleaned his paws with warm water, and even managed to brush most of the burs out of his coat.

You and Jenna sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, exhausted but triumphant, as the dog flopped lazily between you.

"What should we call him?" you asked, twirling a bit of fur around your finger.

Jenna chewed her lip thoughtfully. "We can’t rush it," she said. "This is serious. It’s forever."

You laughed, nodding.

"Sleep on it?" you offered.

"Sleep on it," she agreed.

You dragged one of the dusty old dog beds you found into the master bedroom, placing it by the foot of the bed. You also put out a bowl of food and water beside the closet door.

You and Jenna went through your nightly routine - locking the doors, checking the windows, stacking the chairs under the doorknobs - and finally collapsed into bed, the dog yawning hugely and curling up nearby.

You were just drifting off when -

THUMP.

The mattress dipped alarmingly as the dog hauled himself up onto the bed, sprawling across the foot of it like he owned the place. Well- he did. In a way.

You and Jenna bolted upright, startled - then immediately melted into "awws" as you saw his big brown eyes peeking out from under one massive paw.

"He’s guarding us," you whispered, voice cracking with emotion.

Jenna didn’t say anything. Just scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your waist.

The dog’s tail thumped once - a slow, contented beat against the bed.

You smiled into the dark, warmth blooming in your chest.

You were building something here.

A home.

A family.

And you weren’t alone anymore.

--//--

AN: i'm spoiling you guys fr

Part 13