#age of ultron
emmaduerrewatson · 2 days ago
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‘‘I've never experienced loss because I've never had a loved one to lose.  What is grief, if not love persevering?’’
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icalledhimpietro · 2 days ago
The acting ability for Elizabeth Olsen to be just on the precipice of tears every time she delivered a line no matter how angry or spiteful the line was has me in awe of her every single day
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aleksmaximoff · a day ago
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Multiverse of Madness Wallpapers
(pt 1 probably)
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jemilyswhor3 · 2 days ago
Wanda: How many times have I smacked you?
Pietro: Idk, I've lost count
Wanda: Yet, you're still not scared of me...
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billykcplan · 5 days ago
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dailychrisevans · 4 months ago
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Chris Evans as Steve Rogers AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON (2015)
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theavengers · 22 days ago
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Scarlett Johansson as Natasha Romanoff and Chris Evans as Steve Rogers Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) dir. Joss Whedon
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bisexual-wanda · 9 months ago
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#strongest avenger
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nowadayz · 2 months ago
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Aaron Taylor-Johnson as Pietro Maximoff Avengers: Age of Ultron, 2015
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captainmarvall · 11 months ago
if you look closely you can see how she got less sexualized in every movie
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sad that it took nearly 10 years
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smolbendyhorn · a month ago
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Wanda Maximoff/Billy Maximoff
Pietro and Tommy comparison is found 👉🏼 pietro/tommy
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aleksmaximoff · a day ago
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brunette Wanda concept edits
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naomireid · 11 months ago
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“The sorrow we feel when we lose a loved one is the price we pay to have had them in our lives.” – Rob Liano
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sersi · 5 months ago
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Chris Evans as Steve Rogers in Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) Gemma Chan as Sersi in Eternals (2021)
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billykcplan · 5 days ago
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WANDA MAXIMOFF  |  THE SCARLET WITCH ↪ marvel cinematic universe (2014—)
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marvelladiesdaily · a year ago
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AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON (2015) dir. Joss Whedon LOKI | Episode 3: Lamentis (2021) dir. Kate Herron
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acciopietro · 10 months ago
Helloooooo can I request a Pietro x Fem Reader smut?
I read your other Pietro smut and OMFG WHEN HE WAS SPEAKING SOKOVIAN😩
Anyway, my request is that the reader is Tony’s daughter. So it’s late at night and she goes into the kitchen to get water or something and finds Pietro drunk. One thing leads to another and the reader is sitting on the counter with Pietro standing in between her legs kissing her neck and whispering things in her ear in sokovian. And then just sex. On the kitchen counter.
This was a dream I had lmao. Love your writing❤️
sokovian vodka - p.m.
pairing: pietro maximoff x fem! stark! reader
summary: after running into a tipsy pietro in the middle of the night, you find it awfully difficult to resist his advances. especially with that accent of his.
word count: 3,104
tw: SMUT!!!! both parties are 18+.
a/n: hi anon! thanks for your request! i hope you don't mind that i changed it so pietro was just a little tipsy, only because people can't give full consent when drunk, and i want it to be fully consensual on both ends. hope you understand! <3
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LIVING IN THE AVENGER'S COMPOUND had it's perks. For one, it was gigantic, and had rooms that even you, the daughter of the guy who owned it, had no knowledge of. You barely had the entire place memorized, but places you for sure knew the place of were your room, your dad's room, and the kitchen.
You know when you make up in the middle of the night with an unquenchable thirst? Well, when you opened your eyes that night at 2 in the morning, you were sure you might die of thirst. You deliriously dragged your slipper-covered feet across the cold floors of the compound on your way to the kitchen and sleepily flickered the light on, but what had made you jolt wide awake was the sight of none other than Pietro Maximoff. With a bottle of Vodka in his hand.
His eyes drifted to you, his lips curling up into a dopey sort of grin. You rubbed at your eyes childishly to see him better, and upon a closer glance, you saw that he was clad in blue-and-silver pajama pants, paired with a white tank top that you were sure might tear in half from how tight it looked.
"Dragă!" he hiccuped, a tuft of his silver-dyed brunette hair flopping over his forehead. You smiled. "What're... what're you doing awake?"
"M’ thirsty," you replied, your voice sounding groggy as you crossed the kitchen. Reaching up into the cabinet for a cup, you heard him pick up the Vodka bottle again. "Why're you drinking at..." you checked the clock on the microwave. "Two in the morning?"
Pietro shrugged unconvincingly, pouring a very small amount of alcohol into the tiny shot glass in front of him. You stared at him, raising an eyebrow, to which he sighed and said, "Had a dream that... woke me up. S'okay, though."
"Is that... Sokovian Vodka?" you bent down to read the label, failing to do so due to it being in the foreign language that you could not understand. Pietro lifted up the shot glass as though to say Cheers! before downing it in one go. You brought the bottle to your nose, sniffing it, before cringing. "Ugh, Pietro, this is strong as hell."
"Exactly," he winked. You gave him another pointed look, placing an ice cube into your water. He pursed his lips and gave in without trouble. "Okay, I'll put it away."
"Good," you said firmly, hopping on the top of the island counter and swinging your legs. He got to his feet and crossed the room in three strides, stowing the alcohol in the top of one of the cabinets. You blinked twice at him; the elastic of his pajama pants was slipping a bit, the defined bones of his muscular hips peeking out and making your brain go fuzzy. "Y'know... Dad would kill you if he found out you were drinking so late."
"It's Wanda and I's vodka," Pietro said matter-of-factly. "So."
"It's his house, technically," you pointed out. He blinked, leaning against the back of his chair and staring at you, his steel blue eyes dilated. "Just sayin'."
"I'm not drunk," Pietro told you pointedly, looming closer with slow steps towards where you were seated atop the counter. Your chest did a little flip but you kept your face stoic. "For one, I can't, cause' of my metabolism. Second, he'd have no way of knowing. Unless, of course... you told him."
"M' not gonna tell him anything," you said, eyes flickering over his approaching figure as he drew nearer. "Although, it'll be hard to resist telling him that you were drinking alone..."
"I’m not alone, Dragă mea, you’re with me," Pietro said, standing merely a foot away from you. You stared at him, the white and brown curls of his hair tucked by his ears and hovering above his brows.
His piercing blue eyes were trailing over your face, over your bare shoulders, your torso covered only by the tank top you fell asleep in...
"You should — uhm — you should get back to bed," you stammered as he took another step forward. "That vodka'll go right to your head."
"My head feels fine," Pietro told you quietly. "But, on the other hand..."
He reached out, taking ahold of your right hand with his own, calloused fingers wrapping over yours and bringing your palm to rest right over the center of his chest. You paused, before you began to feel the fast-paced thumping of his heart. You had the thought that perhaps it was always moving fast, but by the look on his face, that wasn't the case.
Eyes shifting to meet his again, you made no sound of rejection when his free hand came to rest on your upper knee. A rush of butterflies traveled up your stomach and into your chest at the touch, and when he dropped his other hand to go to your other knee, you kept your hand on his toned chest.
"You feel that?" he muttered. You nodded meekly, and before he could say something, you took ahold of his head and brought his palm to press against your chest, right above where your heart was. His brows rose a bit, his lips twitching up.
"You feel that?" you asked in a soft voice, and he nodded his head. He took a steady inhale, the hand still on your knee just barely moving upwards as the hand on your chest swished up to your face, where he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
"My dream was about you," he murmured. You felt a flip in your stomach.
"What was it about?" you asked him carefully, steadily parting your legs so he could step in between them. He did so, the hand on your knee now resting on your upper thigh, his thumb rubbing very faint circles in the plush skin. His face had suddenly turned very red.
"Can't say," he whispered almost bashfully. "It's... well, I can't say it."
"Just say it," you smiled softly, gently lips curving up. "Can't be that bad."
Pietro shifted his eyes to you, looking pensieve, before he brought his other hand down onto your shoulder, dragging it down your arm and forearm, before latching it onto your upper torso. He leaned closer to you, moving his head so he could whisper to you.
"Te-am sărutat," he whispered in your ear, breath grazing against the skin of your neck, causing a shiver to travel up your spine. "Și am făcut dragoste cu tine."
He let the words hang in the air, and with how close he was, you could practically feel his heart pounding; unfortunately, you really hadn’t the slightest clue as to what he said to you. All you knew was that it had made him really flustered.
“Tell me more,” you muttered, pressing yourself closer to him. You felt his lips graze the upper part of your neck, sending tingles up your chest.
“Mai întâi mi-am folosit degetele,” he began, pressing a very light, almost ghostly kiss to your pulse point. You felt a hooking in your naval, like you had missed a step going downstairs. “Ai fost atât de... Reactivă.”
“Hm,” you said, feeling his hair brush your jawline as he trailed further and further down closer towards your lower neck, inching towards your collarbone. 
He then went back up, towards your pulse point, and there was a moment were the feeling of his nipping made your breath hitch; he paused, and you felt his lips curl up before diving back down again. 
“Wish I knew Sokovian,” you breathed, letting your head fall back and your lips part as he continued to kiss at your neck. He gave a deep chuckle. “I wanna know what you said.”
“I can show you,” he murmured, lifting his head up off of your neck so you were face to face again, your e/c eyes locking with his steel blue iris’, long eyelashes making his eyes look half lidded as his pupils dilated. You blinked once, gaze unashamedly shifting down to his lips, before you nodded. 
“Okay,” you breathed, inching forward just barely a fraction of a centimeter. Your lips brushed his, and he leaned forward, noses brushing as he dragged his lips to just graze over yours. Your heart was threatening to pound out of your chest, and it wasn’t until you felt his hand cup your chin, thumb running over your bottom lip, that he pressed his mouth to yours and kissed you.
Your shoulders relaxed, melting into his touch as he pressed him self closer to you as your lips began to move with his. He moved his hands down, one pressing onto the back of your waist to pull you in, and the other resting on your thigh. It remained still for a moment before it moved, fingers clenching around the plush skin of your thigh and teasingly moving up and back down again.
You felt the muscles of his arm twitch around you, his grip becoming stronger as his hand pushed your torso to be pressing against his. His heart was practically beating alongside yours, chests heaving against one another.
“Tell me more,” you murmured after pulling away, heaving in oxygen to fill your aching lungs. “About your dream.”
“Mm, Nu am vrut să mă trezesc, asta e sigur,” Pietro sighed contently, his voice gentle and yet filled with something that felt like desire. “But I think I prefer real life.”
He tightened his grip on your thigh, dragging his hand further up so it was almost resting in the dip of your thigh and hip met. Your breath hitched in your throat, and your eyes flickered up to his face, down to his hand, and back up to his face.
“Is this okay?” he asked quietly, lips grazing against yours. “I might be coming on too strong—”
“Yes,” you said breathily. “It’s more than okay. As long as my dad doesn’t know.”
The corner of Pietro’s lips twitched up into a sort of half-smile half-smirk before he sped to the door, clicking it shut at top speed before running back to you. He had gone so fast it had felt like he had never left your embrace in the first place.
“Fine with me,” he murmured happily before kissing you again, running his hands up and down your thigh as though testing the waters. A shiver travelled up your spine, and as his other hand went to the other thigh, you opened your mouth to let his tongue slip in, tangling and dancing with your own like two dancers waltzing in an empty room.
His fingers, warm and tender, slipped underneath your tank top for a moment before sliding further down and playing with the elastic of your pajama pants. His fingers gently dove down underneath them; you felt the pads of his fingers run along the hem of your panties, fiddling with the blend of cotton and lace as though it were merely something in his way.
“Lift up, Dragă,” he told you, to which you swiftly lifted up your hips, letting him slip the pajama pants down your legs until they bundled around your ankles; you shifted your feet around to shake them off, and they fell to the floor with a poof. There was a moment where he had paused, unmoving, fixing you with his eyes and dragging his dazed stare across your skin. 
“Piet,” you breathed, bringing a hand off his shoulder and up through his hair to snap him out of his head. His steel blue eyes shifted back up to meet your e/c gaze, before he gave another dopey smile. 
“Sorry,” he told you sheepishly, moving his hand downwards and curling his palm before cupping it over her sex and rolling his fingers. You shuddered in pleasure, back arching for just a split second. He smirked. “Got a little distracted, y’know?”
“Mmhm,” you nodded, wanting to give him a playful glare but not being able to hold it for very long considering his fingers were putting such a sensually intense pressure on your core. He dragged the point of one finger up and down the clothed slit, watching in awe as you twitched and squirm around before him.
“You’re so cute,” he chuckled deeply to himself, his long fingers slipping underneath the fabric of your thin underwear to run along your folds. 
He had shifted his thumb so it pressed firmly against your clit, eyes flickering up to look at your facial expressions every so often. Your hips involuntarily bucked forward as he circled his thumb, eliciting a rather smug look from him.
Little moans and what sounded like whimpers were slipping from your lips, although you were having a very hard time containing the volume of your sounds due to the constant worry of someone else in the compound hearing. God knows you’d be mortified if your dad stormed in. 
But when he slipped a finger into you, the moan that escaped your mouth was loud and shameless, and when you saw his brows jump up in pleasant surprise, you took your other hand and bit down on your knuckle.
“Oh, no!” Pietro laughed to himself, taking your knuckle out from in between your teeth as his other hand continued to drill inside of your cunt, thumb rubbing in fervent circles around your clit. “Why’re you hiding them? I wanna hear you, go on.”
“People are — are — sleeping —” You choked out, breathing turning heavier than you had expected. “Don’t wanna — don’t want them to hear—”
“The door’s closed,” he pressed further, pressing a kiss to your pulse point before saying quietly, “Don’t hold back, okay? I wanna make sure I’m doing my job right.”
His whispered elicited a whine to slip from your lips that had fallen open in an O shape in pleasure. His finger pumped faster, to which you let your head fall onto his shoulder again, panting. Another quieter whimper-like moan slipped out, wordlessly begging for the release that was building up inside of you. 
“Pietro,” you breathed, bringing your hand down the divets and curves of his toned abdomen before tugging brainlessly at the elastic waistband of his pajama pants. His eyelids suddenly plastered themselves open, the whites of his eyes turning round. Your fingers mindlessly grasped at the hardness of his erection. Babbling, you mumbled, “Please — need —”
“Are you sure?” he asked, and you felt him grow harder under your needy touching. You nodded desperately, needing something more than his two fingers to fill you. “You’re positive?”
“Please, Piet,” you babbled. “Please, please, please —”
“Okay,” he breathed, taking one hand off of you and tugging at his pajama pants. He slipped his fingers out from inside you, and you hissed at the sudden cold and emptiness. It was replaced by a delicate throbbing as you watched him drag his boxer briefs down his muscular thighs. 
He stood completely vulnerable before you, his left hand moving to pump at his cock for some form of relief as he made his way back towards you, blue eyes flickering around your eyes as though to ask for consent again. In reassurance, you grasped at his hip and pulled him closer to you, and you shivered at the feeling of the red, leaking tip of his cock pressing against your inner thigh.
He dragged the tip along your slick to lubricate it, but his eyes seemed worried. You blinked at him and said, “I want this. This is more than okay.”
“Just making sure I’m not still dreaming,” he gulped, and with a deep breath he pushed only the tip of himself inside of you. You gasped and clenched around it, and with a trembling inhale he said, “Really hoping I don’t wake up if I am.”
“Rather dreaming than drunk,” you quipped. He sent you a look and pushed himself further in. “Oh— fuck!”
He bottomed out with a single thrust, his lips parting in a shuddered gasp as he dipped himself downwards to kiss you again, grinding upwards into you a though he couldn’t help himself. Hips rutting against yours as his tip grazed along the spongy tissue of your g-spot, the feeling of being full overwhelming you so greatly that you bit onto your knuckle again to muffle the volume of your moans.
“God, keep going,” you whined. He groaned and picked up the pace, beginning to thrust into you so fast you were wondering how he managed to keep it steady, not how he managed to hold himself together for so long. “So good — it’s so good — please don’t stop —”
“You gonna come?” he breathed, desperate moans for release slipping from his lips as he continued to grind up into you. Your walls clenched fervently around him, your slick dripping down the insides of your thighs. “You’re close, aren’t you? Go on — come around me — wanna feel you —”
Eyes fluttering into the back of your head, you arched your back even further as whimpers of his name slipped from your lips like a prayer, hips jerking into him as you came down from your high. He pulled out suddenly, hand latching onto himself to relieve the pressure building up, and with his head falling back and his eyes rolling, he came over his hand and over your thighs. 
“Sorry,” he breathed sheepishly when he came back to his senses. You breathily laughed, leaning back on the counter with your palms against the granite. “Er — I’ll get a paper towel —”
He reached over to the side and pulled out a series of paper towels from the holder, running them under warm water before bringing them back over and running it over your thighs to clean them off. You watched the arms of his shoulders flex as he did so, before he brought them over his hands and stomach.
“What?” he asked you, eyes meeting yours after catching you staring at him whilst he pulled his pants back up over his waist. You shrugged.
“Nothing,” you answered. “You’re just... nice to look at.”
“Says you,” he quipped, bending down to grab your pajama pants. You stared at him more while he brought them over your ankles and up over your legs. “Lift your hips?”
“Next time a dream keeps you up, come to me instead,” you advised him. “Not the bottle of sokovian vodka, okay?”
“After this?” Pietro playfully scoffed. “I’d take you over a drink any day!”
“Good to hear,” you grinned. “Follow me, then.”
"Te-am sărutat." - I kissed you.
"Și am făcut dragoste cu tine." - And I made love to you.
“Mai întâi mi-am folosit degetele.” - I used my fingers first.
“Ai fost atât de... Reactivă.” - You were so... reactive.
“Nu am vrut să mă trezesc, asta e sigur.” - I did not want to wake up, that’s for sure.
a/n: this is unedited. it’s super late and i’m still feeling jet lagged from my trip but i really wanted to get this own. i hope you liked this, anon!
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barneswayne · 2 months ago
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nowadayz-moved · 6 months ago
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Elizabeth Olsen as Wanda Maximoff in Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015)
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nowadayz · 2 months ago
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Avengers: Age of Ultron, 2015
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