#twelve minutes older: pietro maximoff

[witchoflegends]

@ofcrimsonenchantresses​ liked for a Pietro starter

“It’s okay. I got you.” Pietro says as he lifted rubble off the woman, and grabbed her arm to help her up. He had heard the distance sounds of something crumbling. Being underneath mountains, he thought someone might have been caught in a rockslide, so he rushed over to help. What he found was not what he expected. The crumbled remains of a secret building on top of the mountain, and then a woman in red underneath it all.

#ofcrimsonenchantresses #twelve minutes older: pietro maximoff

[thatfanficstuff]

Open Wounds - 17

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: nope

The team gathered in one of the meeting rooms to discuss the latest mission. Everyone was going to be required for this one apparently. You sat beside Bucky, the two of you holding hands as you waited for Tony and Steve to brief you on the assignment. Finally, everyone was present and the duo moved to the front of the room.

A picture showing a blond man and a red-headed woman flashed up on the screen behind them. “Meet Pietro and Wanda Maximoff,” Tony said as he gestured to the screen. “Pietro is twelve minutes older than his twin. Born in Sokovia, currently residing at a Hydra base in Germany.”

“Their parents were killed in a bombing when they were ten years old. They grew up in a series of orphanages and foster homes until they answered a call for volunteers for a government program.” Steve sighed. “The truth was it was Hydra, of course.”

Tony sat on the table that ran across the front of the room. “It’s unknown exactly what they were subjected to but the result is clear.” He clicked a remote in his hand and the picture changed to one of just Pietro and another of a blur. “Pietro Maximoff. Capable of achieving near supersonic speeds. His body has adapted to make him the perfect speed machine. His cardiovascular and respiratory systems function at a more efficient level. His body naturally sheds fatigue poisons so he doesn’t tire. His bones, tendons and joints are more durable and more efficient. His reaction times are faster.”

He swung his legs and ran his gaze over the room. “Along with this he has superhuman strength, accelerated perception, supercharged brain activity, superhuman agility, metabolism and reflexes.”

With every new thing he listed, your brows lifted further. Damn. You weren’t looking forward to this fight and you hadn’t even heard about the sister yet.

“Wanda Maximoff,” Steve said and Tony clicked his remote again. The picture switched to one of her sitting on the floor, blocks floating in the air in front of her. “It’s believed that the full range of her capabilities have not yet been discovered. Known powers are telepathy, telekinesis, and phobikinesis.”

Your brow furrowed. “What the fuck is that?”

Steve frowned at your language and you just grinned at him. When he wasn’t trying to be professional his mouth could put Wade to shame.

“She can manipulate your fears, project images into your brain that you think are real,” Tony answered.

“Sounds fun,” Sam said.

“So, is this a rescue or a kill mission?” you asked.

Several looks were shot in your direction. You sighed. Half of the Avengers wanted to kill as little as possible. The other half did whatever was necessary to protect the innocent.

“We would prefer to take them in. According to our source, the twins have no love or loyalty for Hydra other than doing what they must to stay alive,” Steve explained. “However, I’m not willing to trade one of them for my team. Do what you must to protect yourself and your teammates. Intel packets have been sent to your tablets for your review. Any questions in the meantime?”

No one spoke up.

Tony clapped his hands together. “Wheels up at 2300 hours. You’re dismissed.”

Bucky retained his grip on your hand and dragged you behind him to his room. You just shook your head and smiled the whole way. Surprisingly enough, the two of you managed to find the time to review the mission before you grabbed your gear and raced to the jet six hours later.

There was more resistance at the base than expected. It was crawling with soldiers and defense systems. But the team pushed forward, unwilling to leave the assets in Hydra’s hands. While the others continued to distract their forces, you, Steve, and Bucky made your way inside.

You moved through the base taking out any resistance you encountered, planting explosives as you went. You had cleared about a third of the base when a blur ran past knocking your feet out from under you. A grunt of pain left your lips as you slammed into the concrete. “Ow.”

Steve and Bucky stood to either side of you, watching the hall as they gave you time to get back on your feet. Another blur and Buck joined you on the ground while Steve slammed into a wall. You sat up but didn’t get back to your feet as you attempted to make yourself look as non-threatening as possible.

“We’re here to rescue you and your sister,” you said though you couldn’t see the man you were talking to. “We have no intention of harming you. Or using you.”

“And we should believe you?” a feminine voice answered.

You jerked your head in the direction it had come from to see Wanda Maximoff standing a safe distance away. Her gaze moved between the three of you as wisps of red power swirled around hands that she kept at her sides for the moment.

“Yes.” You stood to your feet but kept your weapon lowered.

“Why should we?” the other twin asked from the opposite end of the hallway.

“Because I was you not that long ago,” you said. “Then they saved me.” Okay, so technically SHIELD had saved you, but the Avengers were a better option anyway.

“Me, too,” Bucky added.

There was a long stretch of silence until Wanda broke it. “We will go with you.”

You smiled. “Good. I don’t suppose you know what we could blow up to cause the most damage do you?” Even though your attention was to bring the base down, they always seemed to dig their way out. You preferred to keep that from happening if you could.

The blond gave you a wicked grin. “Yes. Follow me.”

Steve glanced at the two of you but you simply shrugged and followed Pietro. You had to show a little faith if they were truly going to come to your side. Everyone else fell into step behind you.

It didn’t take long for you to arrive at a room filled with tanks and barrels filled with who knows what. The majority of them were marked flammable however. A glance at the speedster showed him still wearing that grin. He crossed his arms over his chest as you caught his eye. “I was bored. Searched the whole base before they even knew I’d left our room.”

Must be nice to have that kind of speed. Steve glanced around. “Near as I can figure, we’re in the middle of the facility. A massive explosion here could bring down the whole building.”

Well, that was convenient. The three of you placed charges around the room while the twins kept watch at the door. “Let’s get out of here,” Steve ordered as he placed the last explosive.

You were two turns shy of the exit when you suddenly found yourselves surrounded. Your eyes flicked over the soldiers, counting your opposition as you assessed their strength.

“Ah. Nicto and Soldat how wonderful to see you again. Dare I hope you wish to return to us?” Your lip curled at the familiar voice of one of the men that had tormented you, tortured you. A sweep of the men around you showed him hiding behind several of them as he stood with his hands behind his back. Once he realized your attention was on him, he nodded in greeting. Asshole.

“Go fuck yourself, Vogt.” Bucky stepped closer to you, his eyes trained on the man as well.

Vogt held your gazes for another beat before shifting his attention to the twins. “And where do the two of you think you’re going?”

Pietro straightened, rolling his shoulders back. “Away from Hydra.”

“I am so disappointed. In all of you.” He turned and began walking away, his hands still behind his back. “Reclaim our assets.”

And just like that, chaos erupted. In the midst of it, you all missed the grenade that had been thrown right between you and Bucky until it was almost too late. Bucky shoved you away from it just before it went off. He was between you and it when it exploded. The force was still enough to send you to the ground. After a moment of being stunned, you looked around.

Bucky laid unconscious a short distance away from you, blood running from a cut in his head. You grimaced as you pushed yourself up, your ears ringing. You shook your head as you tried to shake off the disorientation. Before you could check on your soulmate, you were looking down the barrel of a gun and a knife was at your throat. Several other weapons were trained on you as well. Fuck. You lifted your hands in surrender not seeing any other option.

“Enough,” a voice shouted. The Hydra soldiers stopped fighting immediately other than to defend themselves. Your team joined them once they saw the position you were in. Steve’s gaze kept darting from your eyes to the blade pressed against your neck. As Hydra was explaining to your team why they should surrender, you caught Steve’s gaze. You looked from him to Bucky then in the direction of the exit. You did it a couple of times.

When you looked back to Cap, his jaw was set and his eyes were hard. As they were prompted to make a decision about what they were going to do, he gave a barely perceptible nod. You drove your elbow into the man behind you and dropped to the floor. You fought, taking out who you could, trying to give the others the chance to escape. They just needed time.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take nearly long enough for you to find yourself with your face shoved against the cold concrete as your hands were zip tied behind your back. Your ankles were next followed by another binding closer to your knees.

“The others are escaping,” a voice said.

“Let them. We’ve suffered too many losses already.” You were lifted from the floor and tossed over a shoulder. “And she is a prize too valuable to risk. Strucker will be pleased.”

The name sent a shiver up your spine. Strucker was a sadistic bastard but you’d endure it. You had to. After all, it didn’t matter what happened to you as long as Bucky was safe.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes soulmate au #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel soulmate au #series: open wounds

[palettesofrenaissance]

Contaminated

genre: historical fiction; reincarnation au; past lives au; canon compliant word count: 2k notes: written for TPWAOPII Marvel Au series Epic™ - also posted here. this does not have to be read with the rest of the series and is a standalone

Summary: When Wanda Maximoff first hears about the show My Strange Attraction, the first thing her twin does is turn to her, flashing a cheeky smile, and teases, “That’s you!” She subsequently blasts Pietro across the small room with a tiny burst of red mist from her fingertips.

Wanda Maximoff is born immediately after her brother—twelve minutes, to be exact. Her family jokes that Pietro had rather remained en utero than to come out into the world because how fast Wanda pushed him out the way. Pietro comes into the world a new soul, screams punching from his tiny lungs; Wanda returns to the world recycled.

Decades ago in prewar-Europe, there lived a woman born Wanda Orsós—Wanda Maximoff’s first life and even then she’s stubborn and headstrong as ever to get what she wants. Even playing along to a marriage to a man she doesn't love

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘦 — 𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵, ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩; ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘦𝘢𝘵 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱

Wanda Maximoff is born immediately after her brother—twelve minutes, to be exact. Her family jokes that Pietro had rather remained en utero than to come out into the world because how fast Wanda pushed him out the way. It’s also joked that she wanted to get her tiny fists on her older cousin from supposedly hearing him make all those negative comments out the side of his mouth about her, about the twins, about there being more mouths to feed. However, when Wanda blinks her newborn eyes against the lights of the new world, her mother’s arms go lax in startle—Wanda’s born with pale, icy eyes and it’s feared she’s been born blind.

Pietro comes into the world a new soul, screams punching from his tiny lungs.

Wanda returns to the world recycled.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀* * *

“There’s a belief that a person can be reincarnated as another human. Alternatively, their souls might expel tragedy, seeking revenge on anyone who harmed him during his life on earth. Sometimes, an undeservingly tortured soul will get another chance at life, or if one dies unjustly. This doesn’t always happen or is proved—it’s merely a comfort myth, like blowing dandelion seedlings grants wishes or folding one thousand paper cranes grants a miracle.”

So, when she’s seven years old and expresses an interest in the old and unexplainable, Wanda Maximoff is merely labelled as peculiar. She wants to wear the color yellow all the time, loves the flavor of honey, kisses pretty metal trinkets scavenged from a pile of antiques, and smiles with unspoken wisdom laden dormant and secret.

For one assignment in school back in Sokovia, the class is told to choose a poem and explain what each student finds the most interesting about it, what he or she resonates with and why—their explanation explained written on at least two pages, front and back.

At thirteen years old, Wanda chooses “The Yellow Wallpaper.” She says that she relates to the female main character and goes into vivid detail why. As a result, her teacher gets in contact with Wanda’s parents and explains her suspicions and worries.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀══════ ⋄∗⧖̷∗⋄ ══════

Decades ago in prewar-Europe, there lived a woman born Wanda Orsós—Romani, short height stature, black hair, dark hazel eyes. Single child. Weaver by career necessity. Spinster by choice. Although a fighter in both lives, she doesn’t live long for her first.

Keep Reading

#wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fanfiction #reincarnation au #reincarnated au #mcu wanda maximoff #romani wanda maximoff #wanda maximov #palettewrites #the physical world and our place in it #doctor strange multiverse of madness #marvel au #mcu au #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic

[jeonstellate]

ocean waves & faded dreams — shore viii

tony’s attempt at digging into johan’s life returns unsuccessful, so wanda offers another way.

⚝༄ platonic!tony stark x original character (ft. platonic!bucky barnes x original character)

⚝༄ no warnings available for this shore

⚝༄ paragraph format — 0.9K words

masterlist | ow&fd masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

The Avengers stayed silent after Detective Jessica Jones and Agent Johan Collins left the floor. The deafening silence wasn’t because they had nothing to note about the hours they spent with the kid assassin; but, rather, it was because they had a lot to note. Everyone simply just couldn’t settle which one to say first.

"I like her," Pietro Maximoff was the first one to break the silence. "Kid, I mean."

"She does seem like a good kid," Sam Wilson indirectly agreed. "Even with the whole ‘programmed to kill’ thing."

"It took a lot of strength resisting her trigger like that," Bruce added. "She was in a lot of pain, almost like it was slowly killing her."

They all saw how the twelve-year-old looked when she was fighting her programming. She was trying her hardest to hide it, but they all still saw right through her. Mostly because the intensity of the pain must’ve been too much to hide effectively, even for a well-seasoned agent. Although she did seem to feel better after napping and reuniting with her fellow assassin, the pain notably came back with a stronger force once she laid her eyes upon her targets once more.

Regardless of how tormenting it was, Johan still fought anyway.

"She’s too young to have gone through all of what she did," Clint lamented.

Out of all of them, Clint was one of the two people with an understanding different than the rest. Sure, Natasha, Bucky, and the Maximoff twins understood in depth what it was like to be experimented on. And the others could only begin to imagine how difficult her life was, as her struggles greatly differed to theirs.

But Clint and Scott Lang were the only ones who understood how young she was. "Kid’s only three, four years older than Cassie. Jesus."

"She’s around the same age as Cooper and Lila," Clint nodded, his expression stayed crestfallen.

The Avengers fell silent again after that remark.

They all had the opportunity to meet the three children mentioned, along with the youngest Barton kid Nathaniel. Cooper was the oldest of them and yet, he was still far too young. Not that there was an appropriate age to be traumatized to the core, but the point still stands: Johan Collins was far too young to be an assassin with post-traumatic stress disorder.

"Tony, what are you doing?" This time, it was James ‘Rhodey’ Rhodes who interrupted the silence. Had he not done that, then his best friend in question’s actions probably would’ve escaped everyone else’s notice for another five more minutes. However, since he did, they all turned just in time to witness him open the S.H.I.E.L.D. database in a holographic screen.

"Researching," Tony Stark replied simply, before typing: Johan Collins.

"Invading privacy, you mean."

"Only if I can actually find info on Kid." His hands began moving faster as he maneuvered the holograms in front of him. Everyone unconsciously held their breath as they anticipated a wall full of her information to pop up any second. Except . . . "Rogers, did you just jinx it—"

"What—"

"—I’m assuming you did." He cut Steve off before the latter could even defend himself. "Are there any other ways to spell her name?"

"Try ‘Anastasia Stark,’" Natasha suggested. Tony followed through. Unfortunately, the screen still came up blank. "‘Anastasia Collins’? ‘Johan Stark’?"

"Boss, you have a new message from Director Fury," FRIDAY announced, effectively halting Tony’s so-called research.

Everyone suddenly looked at him expectantly, silently urging him to read the message out loud with their eyes. "What did he say?"

"‘You aren’t authorized to see Collins’ data. Stop snooping.’"

Much to Director Fury’s chagrin, Tony merely took his message as a challenge. Unfortunately for the challenger, though, he still failed to uncover anything regardless of whatever offense he threw at the S.H.I.E.L.D. database.

By the time he ran out of all the system offense he knew on top of his head, the blank screen was mocking him.

"What is S.H.I.E.L.D. hiding?" He blurted in frustration, mostly to himself. "Barnes has a profile, so why doesn’t she?"

"What are you trying to find, anyway?" Bucky spoke up. "Maybe I can answer."

"Jones was obviously avoiding to mention something. I want to know why."

"I can give you more than that." Wanda, who had been awfully quiet since Agent Collins and Detective Jones came to the common floor, finally contributed to the conversation. "I can show them to you."

"You went inside her head?" Pietro looked at her in slight disbelief. "What did you see?"

Contrast to her twin’s reaction that had a hint of curiosity in it, Steve’s response wasn’t relatively as excited. "Wanda, we’ve talked about this."

"I didn’t force my way in. She was thinking very loudly." That would’ve been a weak attempt at defense if it really was one, except she wasn’t actually defending herself. "Kid kept on thinking about one memory in particular." She was merely stating facts as they were. "It answers the ‘why’ Stark wants to know and more."

Wanda let her words sink in. "Fine. Let’s see it."

"Only if we could help her see her father." Wanda bargained out of the blue — albeit as if that was her plan all along.

No one could read what she was thinking. Not even her twin, who knew her more than anyone else in the room, could decipher her expression.

"I can’t promise you that," Tony’s reply was almost immediate. "We can’t afford to expose a civilian to an unpredictable, amnesiac assassin suffering from PTSD."

next shore >

#tony stark imagines #tony stark scenarios #tony stark oneshots #tony stark fanfics #tony stark fics #tony stark #iron man #marvel #mcu #avengers #iron man imagines #marvel imagines #mcu imagines #platonic!tony stark x reader #platonic!avengers x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader

[fasterthanmydemons]

Avengers: Age of Ultron deleted scene ~ “Is that my jacket?”

#{haha the look on Wanda's face} #{like Pietro you gave me HER jacket?! wtf!} #{also Pietro like.... slow Avengers are TOO SLOW} #pietro maximoff #{ you didn’t see that coming? } ᵛⁱˢᵃᵍᵉ #{ blink and you miss me } ᵖᵒʷᵉʳˢ #wanda maximoff #{ i’m twelve minutes older than you } ʷᵃⁿᵈᵃ #natasha romanoff #{ fiery isn’t she? } ⁿᵃᵗᵃˢʰᵃ #steve rogers #{ what’s that shield made of anyway? } ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ

[themusechronicles-archive-blog]

Revival | thesunisalonetoo

Wanda had been in her room for a while, mostly reading. Losing her brother had never really been something she recovered from. She sat in her wondow seat, book open in her lap even as she stared out the window at the grounds around the compound. Her eyes were sad as she remembered her brother. What would it be like if Pietro had survived Ultron? It was something she thought about this time of year, around the anniversary. A knock on her doorframe made her sigh, reaching to run a hand through her hair. “What is it” she asked. 

@thesunisalonetoo

#thesunisalonetoo #Pietro #I can't control their fear;; Wanda Maximoff #I am still me I think;; main Wanda #t; Revival #You know I'm twelve minutes older than you;; Wanda x Pietro BROTP

[acciopietro]

Hii, can I request Pietro x Lang! reader (Scott's older daughter) where while having powers herself , she's only around avengers because of her dad causing her and Pietro to bond about how "hard" it is to be an older sibling, slowly falling in love?

twelve minutes - p.m.

pairing: pietro maximoff x fem! lang! reader

summary: you met pietro through your dad being an avenger, but it’s not until you bond over the care for your siblings that you realize just how much you and pietro have in common.

word count: 1,426

tw: just some light making out, that’s it!

a/n: here u go! it’s a little short, but i don’t have as much time as i did during the summer. also thank you everyone for 400 followers! that’s crazy! i am so appreciative for you all <3

AT THE SOUND OF KNUCKLES rapping against the door, your eyes snapped up to the frown of your father; he was eyeing the phone in your hands with a shrewd, raised eyebrow. Your dad always said you were on your phone way too much, but despite all he said, you seemed to always ignore his warnings either way. Besides, what else was there to do in the Avengers Compound? Hang out with government officials?

“And I will take that,” he said, and at his words, you felt your phone slip out of your grip. Looking up, you saw him tuck it into the back pocket of his jeans. Your father, Scott Lang, aka ‘Ant-Man’, had taken you under his wing and brought you to the Avengers compound when the pair of you find out about your super-powers. It was pretty cool to get to work with people like Tony Stark, but it got rather boring hanging around there. “Thank you!”

“Dad!” you got to your feet, extending an arm to grab your phone, but he lifted it up and out of your grasp. “C’mon—”

“Why don’t you socialize?” he said, turning around and beginning to walk out of the room. You jogged after him, trying to find an opportunity to grab your phone from him whilst he blabbed on about how you should make friends or do something else with your life. “I mean, you’re a girl with superpowers and an awesome dad. I don’t understand what’s so special that’s on this thing.”

“I’m just bored,” you told him as the pair of you entered a larger room, where multiple people were passing by. “S’not like I can hang out with Cassie, and there’s nothing for me to —”

Your words fell short, eyes practically popping out of your skull. Your eyes landed on a person around your age; he had to be at least six feet tall, with icy blonde dyed hair, broad shoulders, and a build you were sure you had only seen models sport. His head turned to the side and you caught sight of piercing blue eyes. Those eyes caught yours, and when he smiled at you, you were too stunned to do it back.

“Hey!” your dad snapped in your face. “I think I’d rather you be on your phone then ogle Maximoff over there.”

“Maximoff?” you repeated. What an odd first name.

“Yeah, Pietro,” he told you. “He and his sister Wanda are livin’ here now... they’ve got some funky powers, y’know, she’s got this—”

“What’s he have?”

Your father gave you a deadpan look before sighing. “Super-speed and like... suuuper high metabolism.”

“High metabolism isn’t a super power, Dad,” you told him dryly, watching this Pietro Maximoff character exit the room. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a girl who looked similar to him, with reddish-brown hair and various necklaces around her neck. You assumed this was Wanda.

“No, no, it’s not that,” he paused, thinking, before snapping his fingers. “Increased metabolism and improved thermal homeostasis. Boom.”

“When’d they get here?”

“A while ago,” you dad shrugged. “You just haven’t been here in a while.”

You sure would have come back to the Avengers Compound rather quickly if you had known someone like Pietro Maximoff was going to be there. Over the course of the next week or two, you crossed paths more than you expected; although your dad didn’t seem too keen on the idea of you and the Sokovian boy becoming friends, you tended to keep your friendship away from prying eyes.

“Y’know I’m older than Wanda,” Pietro had commented one day, grabbing one of the various miscellaneous items off of your dresser and tossing it up into the air. You were back at home, away from the compound, and Pietro had decided to pay you a visit for the day... or two... or the weekend...

“Oh, yeah?” you gave a light scoff. “By how many minutes?”

Pietro pursed his lips. “Twelve minutes.”

You let out a short, bark of laughter. “Yeah, okay, ‘Big Brother.’ Those twelve minutes granted you with some good wisdom, did they?”

“Shut up,” Pietro said bluntly, his Sokovian accent thick. “C’mon. You feel protective over Cassie, don’t you? It’s the same with Wanda.”

“I get that,” you hummed, leaning back on your bed and putting your back up against your wall, watching as Pietro continued to wander aimlessly around your room, picking up random items and running his hands along each and every surface. “Cassie’s my everything. I’m glad she doesn’t have any powers or anything... I would never want her tangled up in... y’know.. Avengers crap.”

“I sometimes wish Wanda didn’t have her powers,” Pietro admitted quietly, his back to you. 

You said nothing as he turned again, swinging his leg up onto your bed and scooting backwards until he was sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with you. He smelled of sandalwood and something that reminded you of melted marshmallows.

“She’s powerful. More powerful than anyone I know, but... that makes things dangerous, doesn’t it?” Pietro sighed, fiddling with his fingers where his hands laid in his lap. You fought the urge to intertwine your hand with his. “I dunno, I just... I get worried.”

“She’s your sister, of course you’ll be worried,” you reassured him, nudging his shoulder with your own. “I worry about Cassie all the time, and she doesn’t even have powers. It’s a sibling thing. I’m sure Wanda worries about you and I’m sure — well, I hope — Cassie worries about me. It’s cause’ your family.”

“You’re so easy to talk to,” you heard him breathe, and when you shifted your eyes to actually look at him, he had a sort of dopey look on his face, almost like he was sleeping and having a good dream. 

“Uhm,” you swallowed. “Thanks.”

“No, seriously,” he shifted his body so he was facing you, and he swiftly reached out to grab your hand, encasing it with his own, fingers feeling rough against your smooth ones. You felt your face heat up, but you still said nothing. “Like it’s just easy to talk about this stuff with you. I’m starting to think that’s your superpower.”

You chuckled. “I promise you, it’s not.”

“I think it is,” he said, his voice dropping a little bit, and you saw his eyes flicker to your lips for a split second before trailing back up to your eyes. “Is your dad home?”

“Erm—” you blinked. “No.”

“Hm,” he hummed, something in his eyes sparkling. You could feel him inching closer, and there was something especially endearing about the closeness of his face, especially when you could see the pale blue-gray of his iris, or the tiny, barely noticeable freckles on the bridge of his nose that you had never noticed before. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you breathed. You could see the tiny splotches of reddish-pink on the apples of his cheeks, and you found it awfully appealing.

“If I kiss you, you won’t get mad, will you?”

Your heart skipped. “No, I — I won’t be mad.”

“That’s nice,” he mumbled, pressing his lips gently against yours. He pulled back, staring at you, before doing it again. And again. And then he did it and didn’t pull away; your lips tangled with his, moving in sync at a slowness you were surprised to be seeing from Pietro. His hand that had been holding yours had slid up your forearm, dancing up to your shoulder. 

His other hand rested on your upper thigh, fingers dipping into the plush skin just enough for it to give you goosebumps. When his tongue slipped into your mouth, his fingers began sort of kneading at your thigh, and you couldn’t help the small sort of moan that slipped out.

Pietro then pulled back for a moment, glancing at your open door before he asked breathlessly, his lips swollen, “Is anyone home?”

“I think Cassie’s asleep downstairs,” you told him, and he scrunched up his nose. “And dad get’s home in...” you glanced at the clock and giggled. “Twelve minutes.”

Pietro rolled his eyes. You did nothing for a heartbeat before lifting up two fingers and swishing them across the air, causing the open door to gently and silently close. Pietro’s lips twitched up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before cupping his hand over your cheek.

“Micuță obraznică,” he muttered, before leaning back in again. You pulled him close, accepting it, and praying to god that your dad would not pull up while Pietro was still there.

✾✾✾

translations: Micuță obraznică. - Cheeky little thing or Naught little one.

taglist: @kaqua​ @julster @pagesbetweensheets @mcximffs​ @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx​ 

a/n: this is kind of really short but i have so much homework i’m sorry if this sort of sucks LMAO. i have so much to do, i had to close requests cause i need to finish the others i have before i can start any more. anywho, here u go love!

#aaron taylor johnson #age of ultron #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro x y/n #pietro x reader #pietro #mcu #aaron johnson #marvel smut #marvel

[thefoxandthepenguine]

Your Name Engraved Herein (Part 2)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have known Wanda since you were ten until destiny drifted you apart. What would happen when you meet her twelve years later after you join the avengers?

Warnings: Cursing (one or two words only)

Word count: 2.3k

a/n: This is a rather short one but I still hope you enjoy! ;) Not much Wanda in this one, but I promise she'll be back in the coming up chapters! Again, tell me what you think about this by commenting, reblogging or leaving me an ask.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Christmas Spin-off

(GIF found online. I don't own it.)

Chapter 2

Red Room, 2016

“Until she’s dead. Make her suffer.”

Nothing came to your mind. Just obey.

You did not know who she was and what she had done to deserve this. Yet you did not need to.

Just obey.

You stroke her on the chest and you were confident you just broke one of her sternum, making sure every breath she took hurt.

You were waiting for another turn on the side when something blew off in the air. You tried to brace yourself for the upcoming blast, but nothing came.

Except some red sprinkles falling softly on your skin.

Who is the woman lying on the floor?

Why did you do this to her?

You shook your head and pressed your palm on the temple. Questions kept coming up in your brain until everything hit you like a freight train.

“Subject 26. Your turn.”

“I'm twelve minutes older than her.”

“Whe-where are we going? Where’s Wanda and Pietro?”

“The world...needs to be changed. And we can do this together. The three of us.”

“Finally. Another girl who possesses the genetic potential. I’ve traded many of my girls for you. Don’t let me down. Inject the serum.”

“He’s Pietro Maximoff. I’m Wanda. We’re twins.”

“Please…I need to see them. Please.”

“I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

It all came back to you. Everything.

You looked around your surroundings and saw the same haze of confusion in everyone’s eyes. You tried to understand what was happening, but you could not quite put the pieces together.

And then you saw Yelena rushed towards the redhead and helped her fix her shoulder.

“What do we do now?” One of the widows asked.

“Get as far away from here as possible,” her voice was a bit husky but it did not make you uncomfortable surprisingly, “you get to make your own choices now.”

You saw uncertainty in everyone’s eyes as they exchanged glances with each other. But you knew what you had to do -

You needed to find them. To find her.

It was then you heard the rumble of explosions approaching from a distance and felt the ground shaking.

“We gotta get out of here,” Yelena told the redhead, “we need to find Dreykov. You coming with us?”

“I’m right behind.” You took one last look at the redhead before you followed everyone to leave the room.

//

You had heard Alexi, the guy in that absurd tight suit, bragging all the way since the jet took off. You thought your ear began to buzz.

“You know, I thought you were quiet in the past when we worked together but apparently I knew nothing about it.” You chuckled at the words as Yelena slumped into the seat next to you. “How are you feeling?”

“Could be better. But thank you, for freeing us.”

Yelena waved her hand. “Don’t mention it.”

You nodded and neither of you said anything for a while. You fidgeted your fingers on the lap before plucking up the courage and broke the silence, “Yelena, can you please do me a favor?”

Yelena turned her head and nodded at you. “Yeah sure. What do you need?”

“I want to find someone. Two people actually. But they may be…uhm a bit hard to find.”

“Okay…well maybe Melina will be better at that then,” Yelena tilted her head to the woman in the back, “what are their names? I’ll ask her to track them down once we settle.”

“Wanda and Pietro - ”

“- Maximoff?” You were cut off by Yelena and both of you frowned at each other in sync.

“Yeah Maximoff…but why-how do you…?”

“What’s your relationship with the twins?”

Yelena knew they were twins. You could feel your heart in your throat at that realization. Maybe she had met them before, if not worked together.

They survived the experiment.

“Y/N?” Yelena raised her brows at you, waiting for your answer.

You paused for a second and struggled with the best term to describe your relationship with the Maximoffs. “I-we’re like brothers and sisters in the past. We lived in the same orphanage since we were ten,” you swallowed thickly, “do you know them?”

“Nowadays everyone who has a smartphone knows them.” You blinked your eyes a few times and Yelena added, “wait.”

Yelena took her phone out from the pocket and started to type something on it while grumbling, “is it a new trend for the Widows to have Avenger sisters now?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” You frowned.

“Natasha…that redhead you saw back there? She’s my sister…well a fake one but still,” Yelena shrugged dismissively, “she’s also an Avenger who loves to have a fighting pose with her arm and hair. And the Wanda Maximoff you mentioned? Another Avenger who loves to pose…with her fingers.” Yelena moved her fingers in a weird way when handing you her phone with another hand.

A shiver ran down your spine. You thought you were looking at an alien with creepy hands.

“There’s no way Wanda will join the Aven-” Your jaw dropped yet nothing came out from your mouth when you saw the picture on the phone. Wanda was fighting next to Ironman and Captain America against some…roberts?

“Aha! Look at the photos! The Avengers are all posers!” Yelena scoffed while you were swiping through the photos.

You stared at the photos. Wanda looked a bit more mature when compared to her image in your memory. But she was still…her. The Wanda Maximoff you knew. Her hair was still brunette. She was still wearing the smoky eye makeup you always made fun of. She was still keeping a straight face most of the time.

She was still…gorgeous.

You felt something warm streamed down your cheeks and you wiped it off immediately with your palm. You were pretty sure Yelena saw it and you were relieved when she did not say anything about -

“Are you crying?”

Yeah…well…

“No…” You cleared your throat and hoped she would get what you were insinuating.

You clicked on a video clip and saw Wanda casting some red energy blast while moving her fingers. Elegantly. Nothing like what Yelena had just displayed.

“Is this her power? The hand-finger thing? And what about Pietro?” You mused and finally turned your head to meet Yelena’s eyes, “I only saw him in a few pictures but he’ll never leave Wanda alone.”

“Sorry to tell you…but he didn’t make it through.”

You shook your head. “It…n-no it can’t be…it’s not funny Yelena. Wh-what are you talking about?” You tried to laugh it off, hoping she would nudge your elbow and burst into laughter together with you. But she did not.

“I’m sorry. But he died as a hero.”

“He’s the toughest among us. He won’t…it’s not possible…no…”

The three of you knew deep down in your heart that it could be dangerous to volunteer yourselves for the experiment. That you might die. But you tried to convince yourselves that it was necessary in order to change this world. You were young…and reckless.

You thought you had prepared yourself for the worst to come. But when it did, you knew you could never be ready for that.

You could feel tears swelling in your eyes and blurred your vision. You looked out to the window on your side and put your head back a bit, squeezing your eyelids shut in the hope of holding back the tears but you failed eventually.

You remained silent for quite some time and sat there unmoving, before finally turning around to face Yelena again. “I’m sorry Yelena…I know you have a job to do and you need people working with you to do this. But I needa find the Avengers. I needa see her.”

You could not imagine what Wanda was experiencing now. You needed to be there for her.

“I get it,” Yelena nodded before pausing for a brief moment, “but the problem is…you can’t find her.”

“What do you mean?” You did not notice your knuckles turned white at how hard you clenched your fists subconsciously.

“It’s kinda long and complicated. To make it short, the cool kids had a fight amongst themselves. Almost half of them were locked up by the US government in the end, including Wanda Maximoff.” Yelena took the phone from your hand and flashed you the news headlines.

“Then I’ll find her and get her out of there. I’m well-trained for that.” Your heart raced in the chest as you stared at the words.

“You can’t do it alone.” Yelena stated matter-of-factly.

“I don’t care. If nobody’s saving her, I’ll do it myself.” You willed your hand to stop trembling as you slowly read the text again.

“Trust me. Natasha’s going to work on that. As much as I hate to say that, the Avengers are her family. She won’t sit by and watch them being locked up.”

“Then I’ll go and help -” You unfastened the seat belt and planned to get the parachute on the side.

“Calm down Y/N,” Yelena placed her palm on your shoulder and forced you down into your seat, “I know Wanda Maximoff means a lot to you. But if Natasha needs any help, she’ll reach for us.”

//

You waited.

It did not take long for the whole world to know Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers rescued the locked-up Avengers from the Raft.

Yelena once asked if you would want her to tell Natasha about you, so that she could arrange you two to meet. You thought for a while and yet you declined the offer eventually, much to Yelena’s surprise.

You wanted to meet Wanda of course. Desperately. But she was on the run then and you did not want to compromise her, just because you wanted to see her.

You could wait. Although the fact that you could not see Wanda hurt a lot, it was for the best.

So you had Yelena promise you that she would not say anything about you to Natasha.

You waited.

You chose to work with Yelena to free the Widows from around the world while you were waiting. She told you you did not have to, but you wanted to know immediately if she heard anything from Natasha and you had nothing to do and nowhere to go.

//

São Paulo, Brazil, 2018

“You sure she’s the last one on the list?”

You offered your hand to help the girl rise up from the ground as you talked to Yelena. She rolled her eyes annoyingly, “last time I checked, which was a minute ago, yes.”

You let out a breath that you did not realize you were holding until now. “I can’t believe we can really pull this toge-”

One of your knees weakened out of a sudden and you could not help but knelt on the ground. You grabbed your gun from the holster and looked down at your leg instinctively, trying to identify what was it that hit you.

Nothing.

Nothing hit you. And nothing was there. Like your calf never existed in the first place.

“What the hell…”

Your blood went cold in the vein. You had never seen a weapon like this.

“Y/N! What the fuck is th-” You turned your head to the voice and you widened your eyes. Yelena never had the chance to finish the sentence before turning into ashes.

Your gun dropped on the ground.

That was the last thing you remembered.

//

New York, the United States, 2023 (Present)

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You step into the training room with Yelena, still a bit hesitant with the decision you have made.

“You know, it’s too late to back off now.”

“I can still manage to get out of here at the very last minute,” you mumble.

“C’mon! It'll be great fun working with the cool kids! We can work out our own pose!” Yelena shoves her bag on the ground and slumps onto the bench, “besides, you get to spend some time with your sister here. Poor Y/N with sister issue.”

“Yelena Belova! I swear to whoever out there if you dare to say that out loud again, I’ll cut your throat.” You feel heat creeping up your face as you glare at Yelena.

“Oh don’t be mad Y/N.” Yelena pouts and pets your head. You hear two sets of footsteps approaching the room while you are trying to shove off her hand.

“What’s so funny girls? I can hear your voice in the corridor.” You turn around to see Natasha standing at the doorway, smirking at both of you.

And…she comes here with another redhead.

Your heart skip a beat and you can not tear your gaze away from the woman standing right behind Natasha.

You notice that she has dyed her hair. It is much lighter than last time she appeared on the news.

She scans the room for a brief second before stepping inside and finally meets your gaze. You notice her gasps in awe the moment she sees you.

“Welcome aboard! This is Wanda, I’m sure you know her, and she’ll be your trainer together with me. I thought it’ll be nice for you to meet first before the training starts officially tomorrow. Wanda, this is Yelena, my sister as I’ve told you, and -”

“Y/N.”

You swallow thickly at the way your name rolls off her tongue.

“Do you know each other?” Natasha raises her eyebrows at Wanda.

“Shhh!” You hear Yelena hushing Natasha and you catch her shooting her so-called younger sister a puzzled glance at the corner of your eyes.

“Is that you Y/N?”

Wanda walks closer to you. You can see her lips quivering and her hands trembling at the side.

“Hi Wanda.”

Tag:

@liver-casserole @ilovemarvel07 @ihave-committed @hangesfirstwife @marvelwomen-simp @chaekhan @reereeineedtopee @morbid-gaymer @xxromanoffxx

(Please lemme know if you want to be added to the tag list)

#wanda #wanda mcu #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch imagine #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #yelena boleva #natasha romanoff

[roger-that-cap]

brand new eyes

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: having a penpal in the sixth grade was overdone, in your opinion. and handwritten letters just weren’t convenient. you weren’t happy at all to start talking to some random girl your age across the sea, but once you started, neither of you could find it in you to stop.

warnings: fluff!!!! mutual pining. badly written letters (actually the whole one shot). brief battle with sexuality. a seriously strong connection between two characters (almost soulmate territory here tbh). every single mistake here is 100% mine!

word count: 8.7k!

At first, you were sure that the pen pal letter suggestion for extra credit was stupid. Why would you handwrite a letter when you could send an email? Why would you send a letter by mail that would take much longer? It took two weeks for a handwritten letter to arrive, and only seconds for an email. It didn’t make any sense.

And then you got your first letter.

You realized very quickly why handwriting was what your teachers asked for. You never knew that handwriting could be so vulnerable, so open. You had never seen letters that were so loopy, so delicate. That letter was written so neatly and so personally even if the girl who had written it hadn’t meant it to be that way, and you knew that a computer even with all of its special fonts wouldn’t be able to do that.

You understood why the handwritten rule was there.

But you didn’t like it when it was your turn to craft something so beautiful.

It wasn’t a competition by any means, but you didn’t want your letter to look anything like the words you scratched down into your notebooks. You wanted them to be neat and pretty and most of all understandable for the girl behind the pen and across the sea, because she had done the same for you.

By the time you stopped ogling over the letters and started actually reading the words that the girl had written, you learned her name. You learned it within the first line, actually.

Wanda Maximoff.

She was obviously from Sokovia, she spoke English as her second language, and she had an older twin brother that she both adored and was annoyed by. She was in the equivalent of your grade in her country, and she liked to cook with her parents. The letter was basic and slightly elementary, just an introduction to what she was willing to share with a stranger that lived thousands of miles away.

But that didn’t make it any less special.

You started on your return letter minutes after you let her pretty words sink in.

You drafted your letter and let it sit for an hour without you looking at it, and then came back to it only to cross things out and revise it, and then put it on the expensive paper that your mother had bought for you. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. It started with a greeting, your name, and then into the same sort of things that she spoke about in her own letter, the things that people that went to school with you had learned in passing over the years.

It felt like giving someone the rundown of your uneventful life so far in the simplest of ways. It felt like someone getting to know you as you wanted them to, because you were telling your story. There was no other side, or truth, or lie, just what your pen and your brain decided to write. It was controlled chaos. And you adored it.

Your print was easy to read. It wasn’t loopy like hers or as “girlish”, as one of your classmates said when you brought both letters to school to get an extra one hundred. It wasn’t fancy and alluring like hers, but there was still something magical on the pseudo-aged parchment.

You sent it off to the post office the next day, and you put her letter on your desk. 

§§§

By the time that your third letter from her came, you already were drafting your own. It came straight to your mailbox and when you checked the mail that morning, you were ecstatic to see it waiting for you, like a pet waiting for it’s person to come home. As usual, it started off with the gentle scrawl of your name, just a bit larger than all of the rest of the words that were on the page.

I can’t believe that it’s already been weeks of us writing. We started in August, and it’s nearing the end of October. Speaking of, is it starting to get cold there for you? It’s already cold for us. Our grandmother always makes us the best tea and soup when it gets cold outside, and I could send you the recipe if you wanted!

My brother and I are curious about one thing, and we hope that we get your answer in time, but, is Halloween really a thing? We have both heard of it, but we’ve never done it here. It sounds magical. I’ve always wanted to dress up however I wanted and get candy for it. If I were to do it, I would probably be a Disney Princess, maybe Merida. Sadly, we don’t do that here. Does it really happen in the United States, or is that a movie thing?

Hopefully you don’t mind my questions much, or my short letter. Pietro likes to read over my shoulder while I write and receive the letters, and I like to write at the kitchen table. There’s no escaping him. You’ve never talked about siblings, do you have them?

The rest of the letter was like that, aloof yet curious and bouncing around all the same, and then signed with her always rushed conclusion, which was nearly the same every time.

You read it and put the letter in the box that you had bought from a thrift store, a box just big enough for the size of the neatly folded and tied off letters that she gave you. You clipped the box shut and put it back under your desk, and then started working on your response.

Instead of just a letter, you sent her a letter in a small box that had the candy that you had gotten on Halloween night, and the mask that went with the rest of your costume. It wasn’t the Disney Princess that Wanda wanted to dress up as, but it was something. It was your something.

§§§

As the December portion of your letter writing, you and your penpal were supposed to learn of the other’s traditions during the Holidays, whether you or them celebrated or not. A huge slide show about the culture of your Sokovian friend was supposed to be shown, and you knew that there would be a lot of the same PowerPoints, a lot of the same pictures and sayings and explanations. You wanted something different. You also had no idea if Wanda did Christmas, but you had to ask.

Wanda,

I’m sure that you know that our assignment now is to present a slide show about what our penpal does during the Holiday season, but because I don’t know whether you celebrate Diwali or Christmas or Hanukkah, I’ll start with asking you about New Years, because I’ve never met a person who didn’t celebrate New Years.

What do you do on New Years Eve? I’ll start by telling you that I watch the ball drop with my family, eat food, and drink cider after it hits midnight. It’s a big deal here for us, because the new year is a time for self revolution, apparently. I’ve never done a New Years resolution, but maybe I’ll do one this year. Have you ever done one?

I know that food is very big over in Sokovia, so what kind of food do you traditionally have when you’re celebrating? Do you like it? Can you cook it yourself? Because I know that you have the same questions for me that you have to put in before you leave for Winter Break, I’ll answer my own questions.

And you did. You were thorough, partly because you thought that it was kind of you to do so because she should get a good grade, and also because she had written that she was thankful for your descriptions on multiple occasions. You had noticed that she was the more whimsical writer and that you came off as the more grounded one, and it intrigued you.

You wondered if you two would come off that way in person to other people, if you ever got the chance to meet.

When her letter came two weeks later, wrapped in aged string as always, you skipped to your bedroom, already pulling the box out from under the table and starting to read it. You smiled through the whole thing.

In her own way, not as precise or even in order as you, she had told you everything you needed to do a good slide show about Sokovia during the Holidays.

§§§

You were emotional at the end of the year. Not because you were leaving the sixth grade and going to a new building in the school and leaving behind your kind teachers, but because the pen pal assignment was over.

No other assignment had been so important to you, or eye opening. You were only twelve years old, but you were old enough to know that you had never found a friend like you had in Wanda, who was still thousands of miles away. No one else, not even the people that stood feet apart from you, offered you friendship like Wanda Maximoff did.

You couldn’t stop writing to her.

It was your turn to send a letter, the final letter that you were supposed to send, and then her closing letter was supposed to come two weeks later. You couldn’t just close it. Your entire mind was screaming at you to not close the book that you had hardly started yet.

So, as your pen rested on the parchment paper (without drafting first), you lifted it up, and changed your mentality from a “goodbye” to a hopeful and questioning one, as you hoped that she felt the same and wanted to talk just as much as you did.

Wanda,

It’s the end of the year. Technically, we should be done with our letters because it’s the end of the year, and the assignment is graded. This should be a closing letter, but I don’t think that our friendship was ever dictated by the grades that we got. We were always closer than all of the other pen pals at school that I knew, and I was hoping that you would want to continue writing.

You couldn’t write much more after that, because your pen was shaking and you were starting to get in the danger zone of dropping tears on the paper. If this was your last letter to Wanda, you wanted it to be pretty. Just half as pretty as she always made hers, if you could manage it.

You sent it off the next morning after finding an old string that was nearly the same colors as hers and getting your friend across the street to hold it down and color the outside of it for you.

§§

A part of you wanted to say that you wouldn’t have been expecting to still write handwritten letters to a girl in Sokovia in the ninth grade, but you certainly were. While everyone else in your class had lost contact after the assignments were done or tried and failed to keep contact afterwards, you and Wanda continued talking all through the years.

It astounded your parents, who were sure that in the beginning, you were just obsessed with someone who was your age and who wasn’t exactly like you. They thought for sure that you would have lost interest in talking to Wanda, but after three straight years, gas spent taking you to the post office, and money spent on special stamps and the same paper, they were starting to finally get the hint.

Because you were so close with Wanda, you hardly had close friends in your neighborhood, and maybe two or three at school. There was no one that knew you like Wanda did, and no one that knew Wanda like you did. One particular letter where you confessed probably the worst thing you had ever done to her that no one else knew was what finally let you know that she was the most judgement-free person in the world, and that you would do anything to keep her. You would never forget how the letter went, and how her response sounded. 

Wands, 

I’ve done something terrible. I may have accidentally gotten involved with a boy who already had a girlfriend, and I had no idea. I had literally no idea, and today she just called me out of nowhere and started crying over the phone to me, and I had no idea that he was with her. At all. It was so pitiful, and she’s not mad, and she says that she won’t tell anyone it was me, but still. She seemed to really like him, and I think I may have just ruined a relationship. I have no idea what to do, and all I feel is guilt. Nothing more or less. Should I send her something? Give her a gift card? I feel terrible because she was just so sweet about it.

The letter went on and on with your scripted rambling, so repetitive and panicked that you were shocked to know that Wanda had, in fact, read the entire thing. She got a message back to you rather quickly, and that made you both nervous about her verdict and glad, because you felt like with an answer so quick, she must not have judged you too harshly. You remembered opening it with shaky hands, and inhaling and exhaling when her first words after your nickname were “breath in” and “breathe out”. 

Wanda once said that writing to you was like writing to a diary who always wrote back, and you couldn’t agree more. She knew everything, and she never judged. And, when the time came for her to put all of her eggs in your basket of trust, you did the same for her. 

You distinctly remembered getting the few letters that you kept at the bottom of your letter stack, even though you liked to have them in chronological order. In the eighth grade, Wanda was having a crisis over her sexuality. Being anything but straight in Sokovia wasn’t the best thing to be, and you knew that. The first letter she ever sent you about her sexuality had dried spots on it, where she had obviously cried. Her handwriting wasn’t anywhere as neat as it usually was, and it sent you into a state of panic. 

We talk to each other about everything, so here I am asking for your advice because I won’t be getting anything here. I know that usually we keep our letters formal for aesthetic purposes, but I can’t this time. Also, no one other than you can read this. 

From there, she told you that she was sure that she liked women, and that she was even more sure that her parents would be upset at her. She told you that she had been dwelling on it for a while, thinking about it and having it weigh heavily on her mind. She was all over the board with it, from her parents being upset to her being afraid that you were going to be opposed to it as well, or tell her that she was “too young to think that way”. She ended the letter by telling you that you were the first person that she had ever told. 

You started your letter with your own confession, and Wanda Maximoff was the first one you ever told, too. You were past having your crisis, though, and you helped her through hers without a second of complaints. You always wished that you had someone to help you when you were down and questioning yourself, so you knew that you would be that for Wanda without hesitation. 

You two grew together even more, and by the ninth grade, you both knew that there wasn’t going to be anything in the world that could stop your letters. 

You came home one day after a long day and checked your mailbox out of habit, knowing that a letter wasn’t due for a few more days. But there it was, wrapped and sitting pretty for you. Your name was scrawled beautifully on the front in the handwriting that got better and better with every year, but you would recognize it anywhere. A smile grew onto your face as you walked to your front door, unlocking it and rushing inside to get to your desk. Of course, your name came first in the loopy letters.

I hope you’re doing alright! Things have been busy over here on my side of things, but never busy enough to not write you back. I just wondered, have been wondering for a while, really, if we were ever going to meet. We’ve been writing to each other for years, but I’ve never seen a picture of you. I know everything about you, but I’ve never met you. You are my best friend in the entire world, but I’ve never heard your voice. One day I would love to finally meet you. Would you be open to thinking about one of us flying out? Maybe after school is over for the both of us, we could make it happen. Number  

It was much longer than that, but that was what caught your attention, more than her description of her busy week did. You read the letter three times. And then again. Your heart thumped in your chest as you tried to get a grip on yourself, irrational nervousness gripping your throat like an iron fist.

You knew the day was coming. You knew that it was. You two didn’t know what the other looked like at all, and neither of you had ever asked. Sometimes, you thought about it, but other times you found that it really didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what she looked like because she was the best friend you had ever had, so you forgot about it. But that wasn’t what worried you.

The thought of meeting her nearly put you in cardiac arrest. You couldn’t meet her. What if you met and you two were totally bored of each other? What if how close you were on paper didn’t reflect at all in real life? What if you two found roadblocks in conversation that you never saw before? You didn’t want to meet her, not at all. You were terrified of it.

Because if you didn’t connect with Wanda on sight, then you doubted that you would ever be able to connect with anyone else. If you were wrong about Wanda being your person and her being yours, you would be crushed. If you figured out that the person who you gave your all for didn’t like you anymore after meeting you, you would die on the spot. You couldn’t afford to find it out.

You sat at your desk for an hour after reading her letter, smoothing your hand over the paper like you always did before you wrote your response. You knew what you needed to say, you just didn’t know how to say it.

What she had already written helped you, too. She was implying that they met up after graduation, which was still years away. You had time to hold off on it, to not talk about it for a while. You had some stall time in the bank, for sure. And you were going to use it.

§§§

You made the mistake of not putting the letter in your box.

Your mother came into your room, and she saw the letter. Your desk was typically off limits, so you were upset that she read it anyway, but what she said led all anger out of your body and made way for fear.

“You should totally go see your friend, sweetie!”

“What?”

“I’d pay for you to fly out,” your mom said. “I’d come with you, but I would pay for you to fly out and see your friend. You’ve been writing each other for three years now, and you’ve never seen each other. You guys should do it.”

“You’d fly me out to Sokovia?”

“You’re a great kid, of course I would.” You took the letter from her hands gently and put it in the box, and she gave you a look. “You don’t want to go, do you?”

You didn’t answer.

“Why not?”

“I’m scared to meet her,” you admitted plainly, and then your mother gave you a look.

“She seems so excited to, after all these years. She’s such a sweet girl, what are you worried about?”

You couldn’t answer that. Your fears were your own, and they sounded ridiculous out loud. They made no sense to everyone else, and sometimes not even to you. Wanda Maximoff was nothing but sweet and kind and a good friend, and there you were, trying to blow her off because you were scared of a possible lack of face to face connection.

“Can we just drop it?”

And you did. In fact, all four of you did, until later.

§§§

By the end of your junior year, you were done for. Not because of tests or applications or any of that, it was because you realized that you were in deep for Wanda Maximoff.

It all made sense. The need to keep writing to her, the excitement you had felt getting a letter since sixth grade, the way you marveled over her penmanship and loved everything that she said and did. You were so in love with her, and it was irreversible. You were in love with her and what the two of you created together. 

And you couldn’t lose that because of a bad meeting. 

You avoided the topic of going there or Wanda coming to you, and you finally got each other’s numbers so that you could text on some international texting app, but primarily, it was still the heartfelt letters with the occasional heart stamps and constant string coming your way. And you wouldn't haven’t wanted anything different. 

 You sat at your desk on the last day of school as you wrote to her, writing about how you were about to watch some of your slightly older friends graduate in a few days. You also mentioned how you were excited to be a senior and get through your last year of high school just so that you could go and do whatever it was that you wanted to do, because you were only seventeen, and you didn’t know anything. 

 Sunshine, 

I can’t wait to get out of high school. It’s not bad, just boring. I wish the people here were like you, and then maybe I could actually carry a conversation with them. Have you told your family yet? I told mine. My mom was… shocked to say the least, but she was fine with it. I think she might have suspicions about us writing to each other now, but who cares? I want to know if you’re alright. 

How’s your new job going? I know you were excited to get one, so I hope it’s treating you well. It’s funny that you and Piet work across the mall from each other. I knew it was gonna be like that, even though you said it wouldn’t be! You two are inseparable, it’s so cute. Does he have any idea what he wants to do after we get out of school? 

 I kind of think that I want to start my own business. A flower shop, maybe. You know how I sort of have a green thumb. I think it would be good for me to own something. What do you think? 

You wrote for about thirty minutes more, answering the questions she had asked you in a previous letter and signing your name at the bottom, a small smile on your face as you thought about her and her brother making food together like they always did. 

You loved her. You really did. 

§§§

 It was in the middle of your senior year when you realized what the problem with her coming was. You had been keeping it so far in the back of your mind that you didn’t even realize that the alarms were blaring in the back of your head. 

  You knew that if you saw Wanda in person once that you would never be able to let her go. You would have to pick up and move to her country or she would come to yours, and it would kill your mother for you to move. So, that would mean that you would be asking for Wanda to leave her own family to be with you, and you couldn’t be selfish.  

 So, you would be selfish in a way that was also selfless by holding off on seeing her. 

 You hadn’t told her that you loved her, and you planned on never admitting it. You were sure she kind of knew, even just a little, but she never said anything. The way that you were holding onto the idea of her probably said enough for her to know. You just hoped that she knew that you were in love with her as a friend, at least. Wanda was the type who needed to know that they were loved, and she so was. 

 You loved her without even knowing what she looked like. You loved her without knowing whether she had a nasty habit or if she was a neat freak. You loved her without seeing her in a dress or in your favorite color or even looking into her eyes. You had never even heard her voice before, but that didn’t matter at all. You fell in love with her hand writing, then the way that she wrapped her letters, and then her words themselves. And then, you just were in love with Wanda Maximoff. All of her. All that you knew. And the things that you didn’t.  

 You thought about a confession letter for a long time. You were terrified of it, to say the least, because what if it backfired? What if she thought that you were only interested because she came out to you? What if she thought that you didn’t mean it at all? 

Or worse, what if she just completely didn’t feel that way at all? What if the feeling she got when she wrote to you was nothing but platonic? That would be the biggest nightmare of all, and you had no idea how you were ever going to be able to pick up your fancy pen and put it to your special parchment after reading that. 

By the time that you finally stopped wrestling with yourself about whether you were going to tell her that you were in love with her, you got a letter in the mail. A heart stamp was on the outside and it was tied with the string it always was, and the familiarity calmed your racing heart. You opened it gently, like you did with all of the letters you got, and then you saw her familiar scrawl. 

How could someone’s handwriting feel like home? 

Moonlight, 

I would love to tell you about everything that’s been happening here, but I believe that it’s rather boring compared to what’s been bursting at the seams in my own mind. With every letter that I’ve ever written to you since we were thirteen, I’ve hesitated with my pen over telling you what I know has been true for years. I think that, finally, I know that I have something to say to you. I’ve always wanted to admit this to you, ever since the seventh grade. 

 I think that I fell in love with you, a long, long, time ago. I think that I know I did. I haven’t told you, and I never intended to tell you, because I was scared. I’m still scared here, as I write this letter, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore. 

  Pietro already knows, but he knew before I even did. I’m sure it has something to do with us being so in sync, that he knew where my heart, love, and loyalties were before I even knew myself. I tell you everything, and something as monumental as falling in love with someone, I believe that you should know. But I couldn’t tell you. Not in the beginning, and apparently, not even after a year or two. 

  I’ve never seen you or heard your voice or held your hand, but I don’t need that to know that I truly have fallen in love with the person that you are. You are a beautiful person with the most gorgeous soul I have ever had the privilege of talking to, and I think that we have stumbled upon a connection that we may never see again, if you feel the same way. 

 If this made you uncomfortable in any way, please tell me. I’m sorry if this came on too strong, or too up front. I never want to make you upset. 

 It’s okay if you don’t want to carry on writing to me after this letter. I just thought that I needed to tell you after all this time. We never lie to each other, and I think that this lie to save me from possible embarrassment or losing the greatest friend I have ever had has expired. Thank you as always for reading, Moonlight. 

 Your Sunshine, Wanda. 

Your jaw was slacked, and your mouth was open. Your heart was beating so quickly, but it wasn’t frantic. Your mind was going at a thousand miles a minute, but you were calm. You were supposed, but you weren’t. It simply felt… right. It felt like you had secretly been expecting it all along, like your soul had known the whole time, or maybe even like it had known that you felt the exact same way. It felt like you were receiving news that you had already heard about. 

But that didn’t take away any from the pure elation that you felt. You set the letter down so that you didn’t accidentally wrinkle it, and then put your head in your hands to hide your smile and think, like they would help you any. 

  She loves me. Wanda loves me. And not in the way that friends loved each other, that’s not how she loved you. She felt what you had been feeling, a bond so strong that it could be felt on paper. 

  Your hands shook as you reread the letter. You scanned over it for a second time, a third time, and you were tearing up by the fifth, finally setting it down again and leaving it on your desk. It didn’t deserve the beautiful darkness of the box where it’s predecessors went, not yet. Probably not ever. You would have framed it in the moment, if you could have. 

  Part of you was glad that she admitted it first. You were going to, one day, maybe. But the worst part was the hypothetical wait for the letter to cross the pond. Whoever sent the confession letter would have to wait about two weeks for a response, and that felt like forever. You knew that just as much as she did, and she still took the chance to do it. 

So, with the most fond and gentle smile on your face, you took out your special pen, wrote Sunshine as the entrance, and then professed your own love right back at her, trying as hard as you possibly could to make it as beautiful and raw for her as you felt on the inside, and as the one that she gave you. But, all you could think of were the first two sentences, but you knew that you were going to go for much longer than that. 

  Sunshine, 

Oh, Wanda. How I wish we were both brave enough to do this earlier. 

§§§

 By the end of your senior year, you two were dancing around each other, taking it slow, as if you both hadn’t professed your love for each other. You kept writing your steady letters to each other, the same nicknames, the same doting words and pretty scratched across the paper with dark ink. 

For the most part, nothing changed. But neither of you could deny the way that you wanted to see each other. And so, your time was up. You had to stop messing around. 

  The first time the two of you planned to see each other, it was supposed to happen over that summer break. It was supposed to be a nice experience for everyone, at a time that was actually pretty convenient. 

  And then, right during the week she was supposed to come, her aunt passed away, right in her sleep. It didn’t even come to your mind to think about rescheduling so fast, and that was the first time you had ever gotten an email from Wanda. She emailed you the morning that she found out, saying that she would rather send the first email than have you show up at the airport upset because you didn’t know she wasn’t coming. She was able to resell her ticket and you assured her that it was totally okay for her to not be coming, and you gave her condolences, as well. Wanda was very close to her family, and you knew that she felt that loss. 

  The next time the plans fell through, it was because you were going to surprise her. Your mom paid for your ticket, and you had finally grown out of your own mind and realized that it was going to be what it was regarding meeting Wanda. But, when you emailed her two nights before, spilling the beans because you didn’t want to just go to the airport without knowing how the hell to get around, you got a quick response. Turns out, she wasn’t anywhere near her house, or the airport. She was on a marine biology trip in some waters off the coast of Romania, and she hadn’t gotten the chance to write you all about it yet. You begrudgingly canceled the trip and told her that of course, it was alright. That night, your mom assured you that the two of you would just try again later.

 But then life happened. You went off to culinary school, a last minute yet sure decision after Wanda had taught you that there was so much more to love about food other than the taste. She had your new address and you had hers, because she moved from Sokovia to Italy for her marine biology major. The letters came and went faster, with the smaller amount of mileage. 

   Long story short, neither of you had enough money to go and spend thousands on a trip, and not even one helping the other out or splitting the cost helped much. Wanda was getting increasingly nervous about whether it was ever going to happen, and though she never stated it directly, it was very obvious. You were getting there, too. 

 The thing that kept you going was the letters. The same as they had always been on her end and yours, they were the one constant in your life. Wherever you went, you knew that her letters would follow you, and that you would still write from your heart and send your own across the sea over to some place in Europe. You knew that as long as her letters were lengthy and detailed and that if she took the time to wrap them as gently as she had been, that you two were strong. And as long as you kept giving advice and writing her entire short stories about you week, she knew that you were still hers. 

  You would be hers until your heart stopped beating, and long after that. You were there for her for as long as she wanted you to be, and that was widely known. 

§§§

It took four years for you to get back home and in a place where you could afford a ticket in or out. Wanda took a little longer, but that didn’t matter. It only gave you even more time to save and plan for when she came, and the date came. 

You were both twenty two when you bought her the winning ticket. You were flying her out to Florida for a week and a half. The Keys, to be exact. You knew that she was going to love it and the beautiful waters that came with it, and it was away from the meddling eyes and mouths of your family, the ones who had been routing for you from afar (and in the beginning, behind your back). It was just going to be the two of you in a condo, and you knew that it was going to be heaven on earth. 

 Now, hell on earth was the anticipation of waiting at the airport. You had no idea what Wanda Maximoff looked like, partially because it didn’t matter while you two wrote, and also because you wanted to see her for the first time in person. You two had a flare for dramatic romantics, another reason that you two clicked so well. 

  You stood with a sign that you had made the night before with paint that you had mixed yourself into her favorite shade of red, a scarlet, almost pink color. You were in a sundress because it was sweltering outside, and you were almost nervous about how she would take the heat after being somewhere so cold all of her life. You were rocking back and forth on your feet without even noticing, and your stomach growling was the last of your worries. Your heart was racing and your hands were shaking, but you willed them to stay still so that she could at least have a chance of reading it. 

  You were sure that you were about to pass out. It seemed like it had been millennia and a day all the same with her in your life. Everything that you had written each other was really about to come to life, after ten long years. You felt almost like it wasn’t real at all, like you were about to be woken up by your alarm back in your apartment over at your old school. But it was very, very real, and all the receipts and your racing heart advocated for the truth in it all. 

The gates opened, and all of a sudden, people were lazily walking out, as one would do after a long flight. You were certain that the woman who was standing next to you could hear you start to slightly hyperventilate, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to you in that moment was Wanda. 

  A man came up from behind you and bumped you, and he said his apologies while you bent down to pick up the sign. Despite your nervousness, you stopped to tell him that it was okay, sign still face down on the floor. He grinned at you and then frowned when he looked up, causing you to mirror his expression. 

 Your name. It was clear as day, accented, close, and sounded like a sigh of relief and wonder floating in the wind. It came from a woman you didn’t know the voice of, and just like that, you remembered what you were doing. You left the sign on the floor, stood up, and turned around as fast as you could, eyes slightly wild as they soaked in everything about the woman standing in front of you. 

  Her hair was almost a cross between light brown and light red, even in the fake lights of the airport. She had light makeup on and she looked a little tired from the flight, but the look of elation on her face wiped it all away. Her pink lips were curved into an open mouthed smile, like she had forgotten the words while they were already halfway to her tongue. Your heart raced as you looked at her, and you didn’t even need to question who she was. Or who she was to you. You couldn’t look at anything but her face, the face you had been missing so achingly without ever seeing it before, the face that you knew was bound to give you comfort that you had never felt one in your life, until the end of your days. Her eyes were wide and a clear blue as they stared back at you, reflecting your exact expression, and you sensed that the two of you had already synced up and gotten on the same page, just like you had both predicted.

 “O-oh my god,” you breathed out, just inches away from her. “Wanda!” You went in for an embrace at the same time, both of you somehow knowing which way to lean your head to avoid collision, and just where to put your arms. You fought shaking when you held her, your nerves completely shot at it finally happening. You were actually with Wanda, in an airport, hugging her like there was all the time to spend in the world. “Oh my god,” you repeated, and you felt her squeeze you a little closer to her. You could have cried in that moment. 

 “You,” she pulled back from you to take your face in her hands, her blue eyes scanning over your face like she was studying priceless art. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it was the way she looked when she watched the animals underwater. She shook her head slowly, eyes welling up with the thinnest layer of tears as her lips turned up into a smile. “You are beautiful.”

  Your heart skipped a beat as you looked downwards, feeling yourself get hot at the bold and sincere compliment. You knew that anything more than about three words was going to smoke you stutter “Wanda, have you seen yourself?” She laughed, a soft sound that you had imagined hearing so many times that you almost thought you had made it up, until you saw the upturn of her mouth and the mirth in her eyes.

 “I’m- I can’t believe I’m actually here,” Wanda breathed out, and you felt the same exact way. How had you pulled it off? After nearly a decade of pining that was mutual and writing to each other about every little detail in your lives, she was finally right in front of you, where you could see her and touch her. 

  “How’d you know it was me?” You asked after a second of grappling for something to say. “I didn’t have my sign up when you came.” 

 The smile that was on her face went from being flat out joyful to content, almost peaceful. It rubbed off on you immediately as you leaned back into her touch, ignoring all of the people bustling around in the busy airport. “I just knew that it was you.” 

§§§

For the entirety of the day Wanda arrived, all the two of you did was stare at each other and hold onto each other, like you were both equally terrified that the gods were going to come down from wherever they resided to split you up again. There was hardly even any talking when you arrived at the condo, and it felt natural. The two of you had already spoken so much, and now you needed to catch up on just seeing her. You’ve seen her soul, her mind, her heart, and now you were seeing her face. It felt like you had always known it. 

 But you were the first one to speak as you held hands on the deck, her thumb drawing subconscious hearts on the back of your palm. “You have a way with words, sunshine.” The name contrasted to the sky, which was dark but illuminated with an almost full moon and stars. The city was mostly behind you, so the natural light was what you got. It was all that you needed. 

 You felt her content fade into joy. “Really?” 

You knew that she was nervous about her English, but to you, it was perfect. From her accent to the way that she sometimes missed connotations that were specific to the language to the idioms that accidentally slipped into your letters, you loved it. “Mhm,” you hummed, leaning your head on her shoulder. “And I never would have imagined that you sounded so… sweet.” 

 “Sweet?” She parroted, and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. Somehow, you knew that she could feel it, in some strange way. “Can I ask you something?” The answer was yes. It was yes, and it always would be yes. So, you said that. She cleared her throat, a quiet sound that you stored in your memory to keep, simply because she made it. “Did you… did you mean what you wrote?” 

 You were stumped. There had to be hundreds of letters between the two of you, and thousands upon thousands of topics. But you couldn’t question yourself for long, because then you knew exactly what she was talking about. 

  Did you truly love Wanda? The question came up a few times between you and your mother when you were in your first year of culinary school. Were you in love with Wanda Maximoff, or were you in love with the idea of Wanda and the mystery she brought? The question had been brought up, many times by your mother, who was only just making sure that you were being smart, and the answer never once varied. Yes. You loved Wanda Maximoff with every breath you took, every stroke of your pen, every glance at her pretty script. You knew that Wanda was it for you, and seeing her only solidified it. The way your hand fit together like they were the missing parts of a lost artifact made it concrete. The way she gave you everything back and the way you did the same told you everything you needed to know. 

  You leaned off of her shoulder and turned to face her, a soft smile on your face as the moon came out from behind the singular patch of clouds in the night, illuminating her features. You saw her face and her spirit through brand new eyes, and it was wonderful. It was all you could ever ask for. “Wanda,” you started, your voice quiet enough to not disturb the moment, and the sound of waves crashing not too far away. “I’ve loved you since I knew what love was, and I have been in love with you for as long as I knew what the difference between the two really was. Everything that I have ever sent to you, every word, I meant it all. And I’ll mean it for the rest of my life.” 

 She was staring at you blankly, with only a bit of something lingering in her gaze. Then, as soft as a breeze, she was muttering something under her breath in her mother tongue and putting her hand on your face. “Can I kiss you?” 

You ignored the way that your heart surged in your chest. The moon was still out and bright, shining down on the two of you like you had paid for it to be a spotlight. “You never have to ask,” you said, and then, as fluidly and gently as humanly possible, she tilted her head and leaned forward, and you met her halfway. 

§§

You had never been scuba diving before, but Wanda was in her element. She helped you suit up after she told the instructor that she was certified, and then rolled her eyes playfully when he checked behind her work. You cracked a smile. The entire time he was instructing, she was nearly bursting at the seams to get into the water, and the second he said that the two of you were allowed to go, she was holding your hand and asking if you were ready. 

 You never thought that Wanda could look more beautiful than she already had, but in and near the water, she was something else. She was in a state of grace and peace all the same, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be so tranquil, for the rest of her life. All you wanted in return was to be privileged to see it. 

The gods that made you fear a bad trip were actually on your side, because Wanda excitedly pointed out a group of migrating sea turtles, not even paying either of you any mind at all, carrying about through nature. You smiled at them and at her, unable to decide which one was going to be the apple of your eye at the moment. You chose her. 

§§§

You got out of the shower, your skin still slightly damp and the air humid from the heat of the water. You smiled at Wanda when you caught her looking at you, giving you that same blank stare that she had the first night the two of you got there. You stopped in your tracks, giving her the encouraging look that you knew she needed. “You okay, Wands?” 

 “I love you.” 

Your breath hitched. It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and you both knew it. The weight of the words and the confession felt so true, so genuine, that it went straight to your heart and made it swell with warmth. A small yet generous smile stretched onto your face as you felt everything fall into place. “I love you, Wands.” 

  “More than I’ve ever loved anything,” she continued, like she hadn’t even heard you, and you looked back at her with a doting expression. “And, I’ve been holding off because I don’t know how to say that,” she paused, and then she fell into deep thought. 

 You took a step closer, assuming that the small language barrier had come up. When it took her more than a few seconds and you saw the little scrunch of confusion between her brows appear, you spoke up. “There’s no rush,” you said gently. 

“If other people were to look at us, they would say that we have only known each other for three days,” she said, and you nodded. “But, I feel that we’ve known each other for thousands of years. I feel that we were made to meet, and that we were always going to no matter what came up. Why else would we both be so focused on talking to each other? I have always seen you as someone special to me, always, but now that we have finally seen each other face to face, I think that my… heart is recognizing you as it’s other part.” 

 You had no words in your mind at that moment, because they were all in your heart. You couldn’t open your mouth to convey the pure shock and relief that you felt at her admitting something that you had been feeling the whole time. You swallowed and felt your eyes burn with tears, but before they could fall past your cheeks, Wanda stood up and wiped them from your face before pulling you close. 

  Nothing mattered. Not the fact that you were still wet and she was in her pajamas, not the fact that you were in a towel, not the fact that the pizza man was knocking at the door. It was you and her, like it always had been in your mind, and Wanda’s too. 

  You were it for her, and she was it for you. And while you hugged it out in that beautiful condo in Florida, you silently thanked your sixth grade English teacher for making you write to a random girl your age all the way across the Atlantic, and you thanked Wanda for being the one who wrote her way right into your life. 

so. uh! hiiii! i hope y’all liked it! i loved writing it, even though she was a lil bit of a challenge, not gonna lie. feedback is always appreciated!!

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel fanfic #wanda fluff #scarlet witch #marvel au #wanda maximoff fluff #lgbtq #lesbian!wanda

[hikarimiyanaga]

Loving You (Part 5)

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4

Because exams make me stressed. But I did get through some of them. And I think I only have one more to go! So here comes an update!

Warning : Omegaverse. Beta!Reader x Omega!Wanda Maximoff. Curse Words. Mentions of Bullying. Indication of Self-Harm.

Also, just tell me if I need to add more warnings so I can edit as quickly as I can.

Taglist : @mitchiesdungeon / @upsidedowndanvers / @trikruismybitch / @fayhar / @madamevirgo

-

Monday comes and you stretch your body. You were spent yesterday. There was an emergency at the firm, so your Mom and your sisters had to be there. So you spent half of the day cleaning the house with your Ma but then she also had to go because the emergency got bigger so you had to go do all the cleaning and chores by yourself. You also didn’t get to talk to Wanda because your phone was inside your room all day. The morning was a blur and you snap out of your daze when someone talks to you.

“Did I do something wrong?” Wanda asks before you could even go to your locker. You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head.

“What? No.”

“Then why didn’t you talk with me yesterday?” You yawn.

“Do I have to?” Wanda gets taken aback as you push past her. She looks shocked at your question. She thought that things were going well? Did she really do something wrong? She clutches her chest as she goes to her first class. Pietro pushes you away from your locker and you let him. It was like the old times where people just shove you or push you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you an idiot?” You don’t answer. You just get your book and close your locker. “Y/LN!” He grabs your arm and you have had enough.

You haven’t had enough sleep.

Your body hurts like someone just smashed it with a sledgehammer.

People are suddenly talking to you.

Your own family doesn’t trust you.

Janine just tried to bully you again last week. You had a nightmare about all the things she had done last year.

You got mad so suddenly because people think you’re trying something when you just want a quiet life.

You’re falling faster and you can’t risk it if Wanda is not your soulmate because you knew that if you do fall then that’s it. A one-time deal that you had no say in.

You dread every day that you get older because it’s just a step away in proving to everyone that you won’t get accepted to colleges.

You’re a Beta who doesn’t deserve to live.

Tears fall and you take a deep breath. Pietro lets go and you thank the stars. You don’t need anyone trying something with you today. You were silent as you wipe your tears away while going to your class.

-

“Y/LN.” Natasha calls out during lunch and you sigh. You were inside the library and people still somehow found you. You look up to her and sigh as you pack up your things and get your bag. She drags you outside and you just let her. Will this be the day that the Avengers would finally bully you? You just hope they don’t drag along Wanda… damn it. It’s your fault again. Your stomach falls as Natasha drags you to the cafeteria. Will they publicly humiliate you?

“Natasha! What are you-“ Natasha stops as you both get to their table.

“Explain.” You stop as Wanda hides behind Pietro.

“What?”

“Why are you suddenly being a dick?” Angel holds out her hand for them to stop.

“Why are you wearing a jacket?” You pull down your sleeves to hide your wrists and both Wanda and Angel lunge at you, you try to push them away but Natasha tackles you down. She holds you down as Wanda and Angel look at your wrists. They let go as they gasp. You stop resisting and sigh. Natasha checks and glares at you.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” She shouts at you and you don’t even flinch. You look at her with blank eyes and she gulps. What the hell happened?

“Get off me.” You mumble and Natasha complies. You get your bag and get the letter that you received yesterday. “Here.” You hold it out to Wanda and she shakily gets it. You stand and try to leave but Angel stops you. Wanda opens it and cries as she reads. She hugs you and gives Angel the letter. You don’t hug her back.

“What the hell!? Who the fuck sent this!?” Angel shouts and Natasha snatches the letter out of her hand. “You fucking assholes!” Pietro holds Angel back as the Avengers read the letter. Their faces get angrier by the second.

“Who the fuc-“

“Does it matter?” Wanda pulls away and you snatch the letter up. “It’s the truth anyways. Hope you had-“ Angel slaps you and you scoff. “Is that-“ Pietro grabs your collar. He snarls at you.

“This isn’t the truth! For fuck’s sake!”

“It is.” You mumble and Wanda grabs your hand. She drags you to the courtyard and pushes you on the bench that you two always hung out on. She straddles you and you immediately feel calm. She whispers comforting words and you can’t help but hug her. You realize your actions while in daze and you can’t help but cry. You whisper your apologies over and over but Wanda just keep shushing you and rubbing your back.

-

You groan as the school bell rings. You went to the nurse and got your wrists bandaged up. You’ve been out of it and only went to classes like a drone.

“You okay?” You nod at Angel and get your things into your bag. It’s a good thing that your hand just wrote notes automatically since you knew that nothing got inside your head. “Let’s start tomorrow, okay? Rest up.”

“Thanks.” You mumble as you get out of your last class. You realize that two people were waiting for you and Angel.

“Hey, babe.” Angel greets and Natasha smiles as they hold hands. They kiss and Angel turns to you. “Bye, Y/N, Wanda.”

“Bye.” You both say and wave at them as they leave. You sigh as you face her.

“Wanda. I’m really sorr-“ She hugs you and you hug her back.

“Don’t be. Just.” She pulls away and flicks your forehead. “Tell me next time.”

“About?”

“The letter and the thoughts.” You nod and sigh. You both walk outside.

“It’s just.” You sigh as you run a hand along your hair. “My thoughts got out of hand and there was just no one else in the house.” You clench your fists. “They spiraled before I noticed.” Wanda holds your hand and you calm down.

“That’s why tell me. I’ll run to you if you ever have them.”

“Why?” She smiles and pulls you closer to her.

“Because I meant what I said. I don’t think I could live without you.” You kiss her and she kisses you back.

“Aren’t we moving too fast? We just met a month ago.” She chuckles and pulls away.

“Maybe. But I don’t care.” She intertwines her hand to yours. “This feels right. You feel right.” You smile at her words.

“I love you.” Wanda’s heart beat faster and you smirk as she blushes. “I love how your hand fits with mine. How your scent calms me down. How kissing you feels like I’m on cloud nine.”

“Sweet talker.” She kisses you.

“No. Just being honest.”

-

You go to school next day with your bandaged wrists exposed and you feel everyone stare at them. You go to Wanda’s locker.

“Hey.” She smiles at you and closes her locker. She takes your hand and you kiss her.

“You’re not covering them.” You hum as you both go to your locker.

“Mom and Ma got angry which is why I’m going to Therapy later. Sorry I can’t meet with you.” She shakes her head as you take your books.

“Your emotional health takes priority.” You pout as you close your locker.

“But you’re my cure.” She pushes you away and you chuckle.

“Shut up.” She mumbles as you take her hand.

“Y/N? No jacket?” Angel asks as she, Natasha, Steve, Bucky and Pietro approach you two.

“Nope.” You show them your wrist and shrugs. “Why bother?” Angel smiles. “By the way, can we start on Thursday for the project? I have a session today and a date tomorrow.”

“Oh? So it’s official now? You two are dating?”

“Oh. They are if they’re not then I’m going to beat up Y/N.” You chuckle as Wanda rolls her eyes.

“You’re only older by twelve minutes, Pietro, don’t push it.”

“Older is older, Wanda.” You laugh as you all get to class.

-

Lunch comes and Wanda picks you up from your classroom. You both go to the cafeteria.

“Finally eating like normal people?” Angel asks as you and Wanda sit on their table.

“We do eat.”

“Sandwiches and juice. The cafeteria offers much more.” You shrug as you eat.

“Convenient is convenient.” Angel shakes her head at you.

“Y/LN.” Tony calls out and you look at him.

“What’s up?”

“Sorry for being sexist assholes.” You stop and so does everyone else around you. They wait with bated breath. “We judged before we even knew you.” You smile at him and before you could even reply, Natasha says something first.

“Sorry for getting jealous. I don’t like it when anyone else asks for Angel’s number.” You chuckle and nod.

“Thank you for apologizing.” Tony holds out his hand and you accept it.

-

“Y/N!” Alsie calls out from her car and you turn to Wanda.

“That’s my ride. See you tomorrow?” She nods and you kiss her.

“I love you.” You grin.

“I love you too.”

-

“So what do you think was the cause?”

“Two phrases. It was ‘always your fault’… and-“ You mumble the last part and your therapist, Dr. Martin lean towards you.

“Y/N. Speak up, I’m af-“ You cut her off.

“Wanda is just pretending.”

“And you believed it?” You laugh.

“Yes. That’s why I was in a daze. I believed every line and every word.”

“Why is that?” You sigh.

“I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Everything that was happening.” You take a deep breath. “People were being nice to me. My sisters suddenly visited. My mom and ma started getting interested in my life… I guess everything was changing and I didn’t want to believe it.”

“Or rather you were afraid of it.”

“Yes.”

“I know changes are a scary thing but they are inevitable. You have all these happenings, what do you think is the root of them?”

“Wanda.”

“Who?”

“Well, she’s-“ You take a deep breath. “I think I’m falling for her.”

“Think?” You shake your head.

“I already am.” Linda smiles and you sigh. “I just- I think it’s too fast. Everything that’s happening.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m just a Beta! I don’t deserve-“

“And that’s why you’re so afraid. You’re second gender.” You nod.

“It’s the reason why I got bullied. Why teachers are ignoring me. Why people avoid me.”

“Why you also got disconnected with your own family.”

“Yes. I believed that I deserved everything because of something that I cannot control.”

“It’s good that you do remember our past sessions.” You chuckle.

“Things are changing and I have to accept them for what they are.”

“Yes. And you’re second gender?”

“Is something I did not choose nor should be ashamed of.”

-

“How’d it go?” Alsie asks as you stretch your body after leaving Dr. Martin’s office.

“Good.” Alsie nods then stands.

“Where’s the letter?”

“Why? What do you need it for?”

“Things.”

“You’re going to find who wrote it, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” You comply and give her the letter.

“Tell me who it is before you destroy their life, will you?”

“Why?”

“I might want to get in a punch or two.” Alsie grins and nods. You both get out and go home.

-

You go to school the next day and stretch as you walk down the hallways. You see Wanda and smile as you approach her.

“Hey, gorgeous, good morning.” “Morning.” She yawns and you take her hand.

“Is something wrong?”

“Just tired.” Pietro chuckles as he approaches you two. “Mom made her clean our garage all night.” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Why?”

“She was caught sneaking out.”

“For what?”

“You. I wanted to see you.” You grin and kiss her.

“You could’ve just video call me.” She pouts.

“That’s not the same.” You laugh.

“I guess not.”

-

You hum as you sit on the bench. You just finished your date with Wanda and you were both on a stroll around the park. Wanda straddles you. You hug her and she hums.

“Don’t you have curfew today?” She frowns at you.

“Do you want me to leave?” You shake your head.

“Of course not, but I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to be a bad influence.” You kiss her. “When I meet your parents, I want them to know my intentions with you.”

“What intentions?” You hum.

“That’s for them to know and for you to find out.” She pouts and you chuckle.

-

You yawn as you and Angel hover your laptop. You were at the cafeteria with the Avengers. You’ve brought your laptop for the day so you two could start the project. Both Wanda and Natasha are fuming with your and Angel’s closeness but you just ignore them. This project costs about quarter of your grade in an AP class. Both you and Angel love them. Really. But priorities need to be put first.

“You two are serious about that project, huh?”

“Quarter of overall grade.” “AP Class.” You both answer and Natasha sighs. Wanda holds your hand and you look at her.

“What’s up?” She shakes her head and you give her a small smile.

“Just wanted to.” You chuckle and kiss her hand. You spend the whole lunch holding her hand whilst paying attention to Angel and making plans for the project. “Y/N.” She calls out and you look at her. She was holding up your meal’s spoon with food on it. “You need to eat.” You sigh and nod. You accept the food and hum. She smiles as you finish it. You kiss her cheek and get back to Angel. She eats her own food as she makes random patterns on your palm.

-

You groan as you and Angel spend your last class, just researching for the project.

“Miss Wanda that much?” You glare at her and she snickers.

“Shut up.” You grumble and focus on your research.

-

“That was good.” You hum as you pack up your things and laptop.

“We’re already halfway done.” You both get out and both Natasha and Wanda were waiting for you two. And you flinch as Natasha approaches you.

“Y/LN. Here.” She gives you a book and you look at it.

“Wha-“

“An apology for the last time. I got jealous and was immature. I should’ve trusted you and Angel more.” You sigh.

“You should.” You cross your arms. “She’s your soulmate, woman.” She groans.

“I know. My instinct just told me that you were a threat.”

“Why? I’m only a Beta.” Wanda hits you softly and you smile at her. “Besides.” You take Wanda’s hand and kiss it. “I only have eyes for her.”

“Okay. We get it.” Angel gets Natasha’s hand. “You two are running for the cutest couple.”

“I’m pretty sure you two won that last year.”

“Well now, we have serious competition.” Angel smiles and she holds up her hand. You slap it with yours. You both laugh. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See you too, Gel!” She and Natasha waves at you and Wanda before leaving. Wanda holds in her laughter and you turn to her.

“Gel?” You scoff at her as you two walk together.

“It’s a nickname!”

-

“What’s that?” You hum and raise an eyebrow at Alsie. It was already Saturday before you knew it and you had a date with Wanda tomorrow since she was busy today. “New book? That’s not your usual genre.”

“You mean her usual documentary, mystery or thriller?” You glare at Valerie who smirks. You sigh as you keep reading.

“Someone gave it to me.” Your two sisters look at each other and they both hum.

“Wanda?” You shake your head and they get taken aback. You had more friends?

“Then who?”

“Romanoff.”

“Natasha? You’re friends with Natasha Romanoff.” You nod and they gasp. You close your book and glare at them.

“WHAT?” They get up in front of your face and you shield yourself with the book. They barrage you with questions and your eye kept twitching as you get more annoyed. The hell is wrong with them? “Stop!” They both back off as you glare at them. “What’s with you two?”

“You know her parents?” You raise an eyebrow as you nod.

“They just switched to our firm last week.” Oh.

“The emergency?” They nod. Alsie gets up and Valerie nods at her.

“They were the reason why we were all needed there.”

“Even Ma?”

“Ma was there to calm the employees down.”

“Ah.” Alsie comes back and holds out a brown folder to you. It says Romanoff Airlines on the side and you take it. “This is?”

“Open it and read it.” You nod and Alsie turns on the TV.

Romanoff Airlines. Opened in 1956 and has been one of the Pioneer Airlines in both Europe and America. This is because of their partnership with Stark Industries who provide the latest technology to Air Transportation through them.

Current Owners: Melina Vostokoff and Alexei Shostakov. Both are Russians and ex-spouses. Although they are divorced, they still live together with their two children.

Heirs: Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belova. Both are adopted and have decided to take their biological parents’ surnames but are still living in America and with their adoptive parents.

Natasha Romanoff. Currently attending high school. Can speak many languages (Exact number was not extracted), is friends with Tony Stark, Vision Stark and many others. Is a helper of martial arts clubs. Martial Arts Expert. Is a gifted student, passing all of her classes with flying colors. Decided not to take any AP Classes because it was ‘time consuming’.

Yelena Belova. Currently attending middle school. Can speak many languages. Martial Arts Expert. Gymnast. Gold Medalist.

You read everything before closing it.

“You okay?”

“Why switch to our firm?”

“Apparently because their previous firm was shady and we were recommended by Natasha.”

“Did you ask her why?”

“Yep. She just said that we know why.” Their words click inside your head and you look shocked.

“Me?”

“Most likely.”

“Huh.” You give the folder back to Alsie and hum.

“You good?”

“Yep.” You say as you open your book and continue reading.

A/N:

Because Angst makes me feel things.

I don't think I would ever write a series without an ounce of angst.

Thank you for Reading!

#Wanda Maximoff x reader #Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader #Omegaverse #Omegaverse fic #marvel #marvel fanfic #scarlet witch x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n

[witchoflegends]

“I don’t know if there is a favorite child, but I know for certain that I am not it.”

#twelve minutes older: pietro maximoff #dash commentary #dash commentary: pietro #open #open starter #open starter: pietro

[cafeacademia]

The New Girl

Pietro Maximoff x Shy!Reader University AU

Summary: When you start late at Stark University you're immediately taken into one of the college’s most popular groups of friends after Rumlow makes you feel uncomfortable and a certain silver haired Maximoff catches your eye.

Warnings: Rumlow being a bit of an ass, flirting and fluff!

Word Count: Approx 1500

Navigation

A/N: Hi loves!! Here's the first part of the Stark University series!! This is a remastered version of the original that I wrote on my old blog, so while the bulk of this part is the same, there are some added parts to it that are completely new and that I hope flesh this out a little more. I hope you enjoy!!

If you'd like to join any of my taglists, please check the masterlist for the series and there will be links to the taglist forms, you can find that HERE.

Next part

Walking towards the double doors, you held a not-so-useful map of the university, along with your new ID card the people at the front desk had given you. It was your first day at Stark University and to say that your nerves were running high was an understatement. It certainly didn’t help that you had no idea if you were even in the right place for your first class, you could only assume that this was the lecture hall you had been told to go to, which you thought you remembered it being called Howard Hall, but you saw no sign on the doors, nor plaques on the wall around it to indicate which hall it was.

And with one deep breath, you stepped through the double doors into a half filled hall, students climbing up the steps to get to the seats at the back, a wave of laughter floating across the hall as a group of older students chatted. You heaved a worried sigh, nervously looking up at the rows of students. You were two weeks late into the year having transferred to Stark University, which had a notoriously difficult entry test.

“You the new girl?” A voice caught your attention and a darker haired individual with a cocky smirk plastered on his lips leaned forwards on his desk, a toothpick hanging out of his mouth as he grinned at you, fingers tugging at the lapels of his leather jacket and you wondered if this guy hadn’t just walked straight out of the fifties in his greaser attire. “Come sit with us, pretty lady.” He patted the seat next to him, the crowd of boys turning to look at you and suddenly you felt heat creep up your neck and cheeks. You felt like prey to them and your stomach twisted uncomfortably at the way he had spoken to you.

As he waited for you to respond, a few of the boys now dramatically whispering about you while you stood in the middle of the hall, a hand came down to rest on your shoulder. “You don’t wanna sit with Rumlow, Prinţesă, they’ll only screw you over.” You looked up to see a group of four guys and two girls.

Steve Rogers, the head boy of the Avengers house and his best friends Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson stood before you. You’d seen them around and on a poster for the next football game and they most certainly were a heart stopping trio. Your eye, however, was caught on the silver haired of the bunch, a soft smirk, warm and inviting posture, hands shoved in his jean pockets, blue eyes that were somehow so warm and you involuntarily smiled up at him.

“C’mon, come sit with our group.” Sam smiled down at you, a more welcoming lopsided smile on his lips and in comparison to Rumlow, Steve’s group seemed much friendlier and more appealing. You nodded, silently agreeing, still far too shy to say anything before you were patted gently on the back and guided over to their seats.

You sat down with people on either side of you, Bucky on your left who turned in his seat to introduce himself properly to you and a girl with long, auburn hair to your right, who was chatting in another language with the boy who’d made your heart stop.

“You’re the new girl in our house, aren’t you? Steve told us you were joining today. I’m Bucky.” He held his hand out to shake and you gently placed your hand in his, letting him shake yours. “Yes, I just transferred this morning.” You nodded. “It’s nice to meet you Bucky.” You smiled shyly as you pulled your hand away.

“I’m Wanda and that’s my twin brother Pietro.” Wanda smiled, catching your attention as you turned in your seat to see her better. “Nice to meet you, Prinţesă.” Pietro grinned at you. “I’m twelve minutes older.” Pietro went on, looking at his sister and your heart almost gave out at the sound of his accent, it was stronger than his sister’s but it sounded so good on him. Wanda playfully smacked her brother on the arm as she rolled her eyes. “What? It is the truth, no?” Pietro chuckled, winking at you and Wanda.

“Where are you from?” You blurted out, having not even introduced yourself or even uttered a word to them and both twins looked at you, smiling at your curiosity. “Sokovia.” They responded at the same time and the girl on the other side of Bucky, sandwiched between him and Steve scoffed. “They’re like the Shining twins.” She muttered, Bucky and Sam snorting at her remark. “That’s Natasha, she’s a real doll.” Bucky winked at you, Nat raising her brow before swatting his arm and shuffling in her seat to lean fully against Steve.

“Are they a thing?” You whispered to Wanda. “Nat and Steve?” She whispered back, watching you nod in response. “She denies it, but they’re so into each other.” She giggled, Pietro leaning over as he became curious of your conversation. “I wonder who else is into someone and yet they deny it, hm?” He asked, voice laced with challenging sarcasm, to which his sister fixed him with a warning stare. “I’m going to grab a drink, anyone want one?” Wanda asked, standing up from her seat, everyone in the group mumbling an answer before she shimmied out of the row of seats.

Pietro got up and dramatically flopped down into his sister’s seat beside you, leaving his blue track jacket in a heap in his own seat. He leaned his elbow on the arm rest, head propped up on his hand as he gave you a heart stopping dreamy smile, blue eyes looking into yours. “Are you going to tell us your name or am I going to have to keep calling you Prinţesă?” Pietro asked, Bucky sighing and rolling his eyes. “What did you just call me?” You asked quietly, a little shy. “Princess.” Pietro winked at you, seeing the way you reacted, slightly flustered and you went quiet for a moment, making him think you didn’t like it. “It’s Sokovian right?” You asked. “Can you tell me more?” You asked, inquisitively and Pietro grinned, nodding. “Only if you tell me your name, Prinţesă.” He winked, a soft chuckle on his lips. “Oh my god.” You heard one of the guys mutter from next to you, presumably at the way Pietro was flirting with you, but to be honest, you didn’t mind. It didn’t seem ingenuine and even if it was, he was so playful that maybe this was just Pietro.

Suddenly Pietro’s arm was yanked out from under him, head dropping and smacking against your shoulder, Wanda standing over him looking rather unimpressed, Sam and Bucky collapsing into laughter, a string of giggles leaving your lips as you helped Pietro sit back up straight again. Wanda hissed something at Pietro in Sokovian, Bucky’s eyes widening at her words and you realised he could understand them. “She said he’s an asshole for stealing her seat every time she leaves.” Bucky leaned into your side, translating for you, failing to mention the fact that Wanda had also scolded Pietro for immediately flirting with you. “And Piet just said- well you don’t want to know what he just said.” He chuckled, making you giggle.

The lecture finally started, the professor having been late to the session and the hall quietened, Rumlow’s group stirring up now and again with stupid remarks and general irritating school boy behaviour. The odd note was passed up and down the row between you and your new friends, mostly between Sam and Bucky, Wanda and Nat sharing their notes with you too.

The bell rang, signalling the end of the session and everyone immediately leapt up before the lecturer was even finished with his presentation. “So, Prinţesă.” You turned to see Pietro as you stepped out of the row of seats, the rest of the group heading down towards the lecture hall door. Reaching up to sweep his silver hair to one side, Pietro gave you a soft, lopsided grin, gesturing for you to go slightly ahead of him, though he walked almost beside you as you descended the stairs together.

“Want to finally tell me your name over coffee?” He asked, making you giggle softly. “I’d like that.” You nodded, glancing over your shoulder at him, sharing a soft smile. “Can’t wait, Prinţesă.” Pietro winked at you. And Pietro really couldn’t wait. He wanted to know who you were, who the girl was that seemed to completely melt his heart within only seconds of meeting her. And he wanted to know what you were really like, especially as you were so shy. You knew as you walked down the steps with him at your side, that your time at Stark University was definitely going to be more interesting and exciting than you had imagined it could be.

Next part

Pietro taglist (OPEN):

@barneswidow @megantje123

Stark University Taglist (OPEN):

@dracosaccount @thesewaywardskies @wasicskosgirl @acciopietro @hanaamara @ikkleronniekins

#pietro x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro x you #pietro maximoff x you #pietro x y/n #pietro maximoff x y/n #pietro maximoff #pietro #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x y/n #university au #college au #marvel #pietro maximoff fanfiction

[mary0409]

Wallpapers | Wanda and Pietro Maximoff

“You know, I'm twelve minutes older than you”  fan art by: @maxyartwork

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff wallpaper #wanda and pietro #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff wallpaper #wandavison spoilers #wandavision #marvel #scarlet witch #quicksilver

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

Introductory prologue. The main pairing will be established ironstrange x reader. This story will be rated explicit, have some canon-typical violence and language. The 'fuck' harvest is bountiful this time of the year. Updates - irregular so far, I'm posting it as I go.

No y/n, no "you", no name - nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns. Please leave a comment if you spot a stray 'blushing' or the likes, I write as it flows and sometimes miss those words when I proofread. I try to be inclusive of all my readers.

"Your total is twelve dollars, seventeen cents," I rattled off on autopilot, casting a glance at the cash register and plastering an automatic smile onto my face. The pleasant expression was frozen on it, stuck like glue, despite the news I had received earlier in the day. "Thank you, have a nice day," I doubted the customer actually heard my words.

One of those business-types, wearing a tailored two-piece, with a Bluetooth headset attached to their ear and brain always a mile away, our little coffee shop a mild interruption in their daily routine of making more and more money. "Hello, how can I help you?" I addressed the next customer, my eyes unseeing, gliding over their face and to the storefront where I noticed we were running low on eclairs and carrot cake.

"Hey, Starlight," the woman's voice was familiar, tone soothing, as I snapped my eyes to meet a pair of reddish-brown ones, staring at me with concern. "The usual," our city's very own superhero; Wanda Maximoff stood before me with her head curiously tilted to the side and her brother hovering behind her, examining the assortment of various cakes on display. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," I sighed, sending off the organic, single-use cups with scribbles off to Dave, our barista. Wanda's order was large, usually about ten or twelve coffees and quite a few treats, so I donned on some nitrile gloves to package the treats while Dave handled the drinks with practiced ease. I admired his stoicism. "Might be seeing a bit less of me," the woman's eyebrows rose in displeasure at my admission.

"Tony won't be happy," Wanda mumbled, side-eyeing the backdoor behind which my boss usually resided during the day. "You got fired?" The words attracted the attention of her brother. Pietro was immediately at her side, joining into the concerned staring.

"Nope," I popped the 'p', methodically shoving the food in its packaging. "The café is expanding hours and our shifts are being split now. Jeremy is dead set on me working the graveyard shift, so I'll be here six AM to two PM," I couldn't help the sigh that left my lips.

My boss, Jeremy, had opened his boulangerie little over two years ago, and as he had predicted, it set off almost immediately. The place was located almost in the heart of the dozen corporate sky-rises full of busy, wealthy people who liked their things to be both instant and luxurious. Jeremy had fit right in with the law sharks and business vultures, if you ask me, with his penchant for demanding the impossible.

I was expecting an increase in work hours, I wasn't going to lie - our little cafe was busy nearly all the time it was open - but the fact that he chose to split a day's shift came as a punch to the gut. Like most service staff, I made most of my money from the tips, and they and they only were the only reason I stayed in a place with a shrew for a boss and the worst health insurance in the area. Thankfully, the rich businessmen from local offices didn't count their money and left me more than generous tips.

The coffee machine beeped for the last time as Dave passed me the three cupholders before I carefully bagged them, arranging the treats on top. I saw Wanda lick her lips at the aromas coming from the paper bag before Pietro snatched them out of my grasp. I rattled off the total, catching Wanda's eye as she passed me several twenty dollar bills, waving off my attempt to return the change.

"Penny for your wandering thoughts?" She smiled warmly as I chuckled at the question I've grown to expect with a quiet sort of joy.

The first time she'd wandered in, soaking wet from the rain and looking as lost as a child in a mall, ten minutes before closing time, I was reading my book right at the counter as I waited for the coffee machine to clean itself. I hadn't even noticed the quiet woman until her words startled me out of the book-induced trance and I shamefully had to ask her to repeat herself, hastily shoving my book under the counter. She smiled at me, shyly, and asked me about my reading instead of rattling an order for one of the sickly sweet caffeine concoctions female customers seemed to love. And she returned in a few days, asking the same question after taking a careful look at my face.

"And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about." I took a careful moment to recall a paragraph from the book I was currently reading, Murakami's 'Kafka on the Shore'. It seemed fitting, with all that had been going on in my life recently. I was still caught in the middle of the storm, unsure if I'd make it out but hoping for it nonetheless.

"That's beautiful," Pietro smiled at me, the tips of his silver hair reflecting the lights of the cafe's baroque style chandeliers. I barely managed to smile at him as he was already speeding off, the entrance door banging shut behind a blur of white and blue. Each time he did that, I couldn't help but wonder how he managed to not spill any of the hot beverages.

"Because it's true," Wanda added with a comforting smile. I nodded in agreement, hoping some of her positive attitude would dissipate the sense of doom I'd been lugging around all day. She departed, taking the sense of comfort with her, as I caught the tail end of something shouted in Sokovian - something that sounded exactly in place, coming from one disgruntled sibling to another.

When the residents of the nearby Stark tower began frequenting my workplace, I barely had the composure to stifle my quiet fangirling to socially acceptable levels. Not long after the Scarlet Witch turned a semi-regular, she started bringing her colleagues with her - Hawkeye at first, who was a decent, normal dude; he looked like an exasperated dad and Pietro appeared every thing the rambunctious son, as the younger man peppered the older man with questions about the cakes on our display.

They all had fancy names, but at the bottom of it, a chocolate cake was a chocolate cake. That much I told them, with a snort, earning myself a lopsided grin and a generous tip as I patiently listed off the more commonly used, simplified designations for the twins as the knowledge of them being European immigrants crossed my mind.

After Hawkeye came the Black Widow, and then Captain America with a sunny smile and his moody boyfriend in tow. While Bucky Barnes' expression was generally sour, the man had a wicked sweet tooth, shoveling frosted, glazed treats at the rate of a competitive eater. Both men were extremely polite if not very chatty and tipped well.

Tony Stark himself - well, he was a special one. His sense of humour trailed on the fine line of obscene, oftentimes raising the eyebrows of nearby people standing in line. I wasn't born yesterday, either: years of customer service work left me with little-to-no surprise regarding overzealous men and I could quip back equally as sharply, just slightly south of Tony's own jokes. He never overstepped, however, and with time, I developed a quiet appreciation for our small talks.

Which did brighten up my day, if only a little. "A little birdy told me your boss is being a douchebag. Want me to clean up that muck?" Tony was, as usual, wearing a bespoke suit and sunglasses, which he'd pushed up to his forehead as he frivolously leaned on the counter after placing his order.

I sighed, remembering Wanda's words. I didn't know what to expect from the eccentric billionaire; last of all, I didn't want any handouts. I'd started a search for a second part-time job the very day I got told my pay would be essentially cut in half. "No need, Mr. Stark, I'm gonna be fine and dandy," I replied with a smile that I was sure didn't really reach my eyes. "We'll still be able to resume our nice chit-chat at brunch on Saturdays," I winked, hoping to keep up the usual light atmosphere of our banter.

"I told you to call me Tony!" He exclaimed, like always, shaking his head and glaring at the back door. "Yeah, no," the man had absolutely no chill. "I'll still sic the IRS on him," the last part was said quietly. Mr. Stark often spoke to himself.

I laughed at the rich-kid, spoilt way he was acting. A grown man with an attitude of a teenager and a sweet tooth to match one - except for his coffee. That was always the strongest, blackest one we had on hand. I hadn't even heard of a triple espresso until Mr. Stark had waltzed in, skipping the line and filling the air around him with the smells of cologne that smelled like money, motor oil, iron and soot.

The moment I opened my e-mail at home, I felt my gloomy mood worsen, Mr. Stark's words echoing in my head. I'd sent my resumes to two dozen places and only a handful even bothered to reply - all preemptive rejections, there weren't businesses needing a part-time employee with a useless degree, who could only work evenings. Except bars, but they required some sort of certificate for bartenders and lots and lots of bare skin for waitresses. I tried to steer away from that part of the industry as much as I could, saving it as a last resort option.

It had come down to browsing Craigslist as I ate my way through a carton of cheap take-out, too exhausted to cook and too anxious to go out to the nearby bodega after 9 PM. One more negative side of working late shift - making my way home in the dead of the night in NYC and hoping Spider-Man was hanging out nearby should a thug decide on me to be their next victim. The joys of big city life.

As the column of various ads stared at me with various suspicious offers to make quick money, ads for 'young, sociable women' and I stared back at them in muted disgust. The 'looking for a job' section was much more sensible with the few ads I'd clicked on out of curiosity depicting people seemingly in a similar situation as me - short on money but not desperate enough to surrender their dignity to corporate greed. The decision was momentary - I'd started typing and hit the post button before I was through with my food, slapping my old laptop shut as soon as the as posted.

Hopefully, the creeps will stay away. The next couple of days stretched out slowly as I got up at the crack of dawn to open the shop, served the early birds whilst sipping my own matcha latte and clocked out not a second later than 2PM, taking home half the usual amount of tips. My e-mail remained as silent as ever, only a few suspicious replies to my ad, texts that I didn't even bother replying to. Human trafficking and pyramid schemes, was that all that NYC had to offer?

Apparently, not. Around 6PM, my phone dinged as a notification popped up and I scrambled to read it - all too aware of the upcoming rent day, and was pleasantly surprised with the contents of the e-mail, re-reading it several times to make sure there weren't any hidden stones under the water. I replied with my phone number, not expecting it to ring within minutes of hitting the send button.

"Hello?"

"Hi, we just corresponded," the voice on the other side was feminine but slightly rough, as if it's owner spent days chain-smoking. "I would like to invite you for a small interview, if you wouldn't mind."

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Could I ask you some questions first?" The levels of anxiety, I thought, were reasonable in the situation. It mutely gnawed at my chest.

"Sure," the woman agreed amicably. "My name is Odette, by the way," she mentioned off-handedly, the name fitting her voice in a strange way.

"Uh, well," I stammered. "You mentioned it's a herbal medicine shop, you're not selling weed under the counter, are you?" I voiced my worries meekly, hoping for an honest answer.

The woman laughed, a sharp, terse sound. "No, dear, I do not sell or possess anything illegal. I merely offer supplies for the locals that prefer natural, alternative medicine." She sounded jovial.

"Like - um, healing crystals?" I vaguely remembered reading about them on the internet, or seeing them in a YouTube video, perhaps.

"Yes, we sell those, too," her tone grew more joyful at the mention of the shiny rocks. I didn't think that they actually cured anything, to be honest, however I was willing to give it some credit - the placebo effect was a scientific fact. Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

"Okay then," I chuckled nervously. "I'm free tomorrow after 3 PM."

"Grand. The shop is open until 10 PM, just say your name at the counter and I'll be right with you."

As soon as I hung up, relief and curiosity and trepidation blossomed within me, imagination unhelpfully supplying images of human trafficking documentaries, basements with chains and other, less horrifying but still unusual things. The pep talk over a wine glass that I had was necessary: it was a herbal shop, for fuck's sake. Worst case, I'm going to work with Karens who think the Earth is flat and quartz cures cancer. I could even get a funny story or two out of those, something to share with Bucky or Wanda in lieu of the usual book quotes I entertain them with.

The day went by smoothly, the café no more and no less busy than usual so after a brief detour back home to put on something that didn't smell like coffee grounds and yeast: comfortable pants and a soft sweater, something that would keep me warm but would not unnecessarily restrict any movement. My good luck charm, a large oval necklace with a shiny gold star in the middle, hung heavily around my neck, providing quiet comfort.

Heart thudding in my chest, I approached the old-style, inconspicuous building, double-checking the address before opening the old, heavy wooden door right at the corner of the building. It was like a movie scene, in a way - the day was overcast, meager sun rays shining through the lead curtain of clouds, the streets were clear and few honks rung out in the far end of block, sending a flock of pigeons into a lazy scatter over the slanted roof. The door creaked softly, the handle cold under my touch, instantly filling my nose with a strong smell of herbs so plentiful, I could not distinguish one from another.

Inside didn't look any less intriguing: the décor was outdated but somehow fitting and homely, high wooden shelves stocked with glass jars and wooden boxes with neatly placed labels on them. The counter was empty - save for a large, golden bell, which I timidly pressed.

The woman who emerged from behind the worn cotton curtains behind the counter most certainly was impressive. Tall and broad, with dark eyebrows and even darker eyes, she critically surveyed me for a moment, making me shiver under her gaze - and then she smiled, revealing rows of pearly white teeth and instantaneously losing the imposing aura around her.

"Um, hi- I'm-" I didn't get to finish my nervous stammering.

She interrupted me with a careless wave of her hand. "Here for the interview. Yes. Welcome, Star," her eyes briefly fell on my necklace while I struggled to swallow the unease.

I hadn't told her my nickname - to be honest, these days, I heard it more often than my given name. People quickly took notice of my love of star-patterned items and teased me relentlessly over it, losing heat only when I calmly went along with it, too used to hearing the same jokes since my early childhood.

Odette motioned me over, parting the curtains to reveal a tiny, but tastefully decorated hall with two doors on each side and a staircase at the far end of it. I followed her into the room on the left, which turned out to be a peculiar sort of office. I thought I noticed an Ouija board in there but wisely kept my mouth shut.

"I live on the floor above the shop so don't go throwing any parties while you're on the job," she remarked playfully, gesturing to a pot of tea. "It's peppermint, does wonders for calming one's demeanor," the gesture was sweet - and very telling.

I wondered if I looked as spooked as I felt. After all, it didn't seem like Odette and her business were fishy in any way, and the décor and atmosphere were quite... Appealing, in a way. Something magical, something belonging in Europe or on a high schooler's Pinterest board. I sipped my tea in-between questions, thinking how maybe, I could actually grow accustomed to this place.

The shopkeeper acted as if I'd already accepted the job and I - well, it's not like I had any other options waiting for me. The pay was more than I expected it to be, for such a small bodega and a part-time shift, and it would help me cover my bills with enough to spare. The customers were said to be mostly regular and undemanding, with a few rare exceptions, and should I need assistance, the owner was always a call and a floor away.

With a considerably lighter heart, I left to pad the damp sidewalk back towards my house. Thankfully, my new workplace was only a short walk away.

The tag list is open until the story is finished. Please use the 'taglist' Google form to request (top of the fic, clickable link).

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

#bun writes #practical alchemy #ironstrange x reader #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark fanfiction #stephen strange fanfiction

[spaceagesparkledust]

More Avengers Hunger Games AU No One Asked For (but me)

- Steve Rogers, District 12, age 17-18 years old. Both of his parents died so he’s been living with his best friend Bucky and his family for the past couple of years. They don’t have much but they do have each other. Bucky’s good at hunting but prefers things like old and banned science fiction novels. Steve, who’s often too sick to go with Bucky into the woods, likes painting and sells his creations. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t try though. He tries his hand as survival skills. Very often. Much to his own detriment. 

- Steve and Bucky take care of twins Wanda and Pietro Maximoff (somewhere around 12-14 years old). The twins were orphaned after their parents were killed in a mining explosion a few years ago. Bucky was the one who found them after helping clean out the caved in mine. While the cave in was confirmed an accident there was rumored Capitol activity involved- according to Pietro and Wanda, it was a Capitol bomb that killed their parents. 

- Bucky trains Pietro in combat. Pietro, the ever protective older by twelve minutes brother, then teaches Wanda. For a while it’s the boys training together and then it’s the boys and Wanda. 

-Bucky is really the only thing keeping Steve, Pietro, and Wanda from going off the rails on the Capitol and Peacekeepers. Bucky’s walking the thin line of rebellion himself, but he’s got it more underwraps.

- Bucky is reaped at age 18 for the 70th hunger games. He wins his games, at the expense of severe damage to his arm and returns home with the winnings for his family, Steve, Wanda, and Pietro. As per the course for all Victors, Bucky goes on the Victory Tour, stopping at each district to make a speech about Panem. Unlike the other Victors, Bucky does not return to his home district. At first, Steve believed it was just a fluke or a hold up of some kind, but after two weeks, Bucky still does not return. There’s no word of Bucky beyond the Capitol’s buzz about it’s newest Victor the ever charming and fearless James Bucanan Barnes (who is, they say, doing quite well in the Capitol). After a month or two, even that dies down. Bucky virtually disappears. No one has any news about him, and all words about Bucky seem to be gone from public discussion. Ms. Barnes tries to ask about him, Steve tries to look for him, always asks others at the market about his friend. But It’s like he was never even a person outside of the Rogers-Barnes-Maximoff hosuehold. 

- Bucky is gone for three years. 

-It’s obvious the Capitol has to have him somehow, (or at least that’s what the kids think) but how? Why? Is he even still alive?

- The 73rd Hunger Games rolls around. Wanda Maximoff is reaped. She’s still small, long brown hair and eyes big as she walks up to the stage. (She kisses Pietro on the cheek as she leaves, gives his hand a squeeze. They vowed to protect each other and despite Pietro’s screaming and tugging and desperate reaching that is what she’ll do). No one volunteers for her, the crowd is a sea of unsettled, yet relieved faces. It’s not anyone else’s kid. 

-Pietro Maximoff is reaped. Siblings. Now that’ll be a show. 

- He’s ready, the thoguht to protect Wanda branded across his mind in permanent ink. He’s already halfway up the stage when a shout stops him. 

- Steve volunteers.

- The thought process is easy really.  He’s raised Wanda and Pietro for some years now. If they both go they could both die, if one of them wins, the other will die. So Wanda will simply have to live. He’ll make sure of it. 

- Steve Rogers stands on the stage next to Wanda Maximoff- District 12′s tributes for the 73rd Hunger Games. 

#annnnd there's part 1 #i thought about this so much #so many headcanons #marvel #mcu #avengers #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #pietromaximoff #hunger games #the hunger games #hunger games au #marvel au #au

[fasterthanmydemons]

#pietro maximoff #{ you didn’t see that coming? } ᵛⁱˢᵃᵍᵉ #wanda maximoff #{ i’m twelve minutes older than you } ʷᵃⁿᵈᵃ #avengers: age of ultron #{ be strong sister } ᵃᵍᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵘˡᵗʳᵒⁿ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ