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free-pool-trash · 3 years

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happiness - peter maximoff

yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻

!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!

word count: 5k <3 😳

warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is

feedback is appreciated <3

tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)

masterlist

haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

& there is happiness

Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.

He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.

Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?

It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.

And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.

Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.

Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.

His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.

He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.

When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.

It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.

That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.

You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.

That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.

As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.

Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.

Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.

But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.

“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.

He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.

With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.

It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.

“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.

The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.

What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.

There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.

Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.

You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.

In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.

As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”

The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.

Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.

While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.

“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.

For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.

He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.

If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.

If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.

You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.

“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.

“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.

In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.

“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.

Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.

His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.

As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.

Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.

Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.

You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.

However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.

Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.

You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.

With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.

“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.

Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.

It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.

You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.

“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.

“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.

“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.

“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.

“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.

“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.

“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.

Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.

Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”

Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.

“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.

“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.

You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”

Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”

“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.

Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”

A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.

“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.

“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.

“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.

“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.

Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”

Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.

You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.

“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.

Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.

“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.

A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.

“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.

“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.

You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”

“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.

“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.

His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”

Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.

It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.

Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.

His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.

With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #x men x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #mcu #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader

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lastxviolet · 3 years

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Madripoor is for Lovers (Zemo x F!Reader) - Ch. 3

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: 18+ / smut / oral sex / f receiving

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

The hypnotic bass and Zemo's enthusiastic dance moves almost got you carried away. But over the bouncing crowd, you saw Sharon, Bucky, and Sam on the stairs, looking for you.

“Shit,” you mumbled, breaking the trance. “We gotta go.”

Zemo followed your line of sight and turned to lead you back to the group in silence. You try to hide the disappointment on your face.

“We found him,” Sharon yelled over the music upon your approach.

The five of you went over the plan for tomorrow back in Sharon’s suite. You doubted that even with your experience, you could’ve found Dr. Nagel without Sharon's help. In the states, it was easy to pick a needle out of a haystack, because you always knew what you were looking for. But here, everyone was a criminal. Uncharted territory where you had to find the sharpest needle amongst thousands.

“You good?”

Sam’s voice cut through your thoughts. You looked up and noticed the dissipating group. Sharon showed Bucky to his room, and Zemo sat with his eyes glued to a book on the couch. Only Sam remained standing in front of you, looking like he was about to pass out.

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Go get some sleep. You look terrible.”

He chuckled and nodded in agreement. “We gotta get the hell out of here. Madripoor has aged me at least ten years.”

“Me too. I miss places where being a criminal makes you the odd one out, not the other way around.”

“Goody two-shoes,” he teased before turning to find his room.

Sharon waved him on from down the hall and they got back into it about her pardon and what she’d missed in the states.

Your attention shifted to the only other person in the room. Zemo’s eyes wasted no time abandoning his book and landing on you as soon as you were alone.

“The Odyssey,” you asked, pointing to his book. “I didn’t take you for someone who enjoys fiction.”

He smiled at the attention and made room for you on the couch.

“I often find that there are elements of truth in every fantasy. The human spirit is sometimes better examined by poets than by professors. This, for instance, is a brilliant study on heroes.”

“Hmm, studying heroes? An attempt to know thy enemy?”

He laughed and turned to you with his elbow up on the back of the couch, bringing him less than a foot away from your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the lights down the hall go out. There were no interruptions, or easy outs, now. All that was left was you, and the only man who’d ever made you truly nervous.

“Y/N, if you were in Odysseus’s place, content and immortal, would you give it up to go back home?”

“You’re asking me if I’d abandon my legacy and family to shack up on an island with some mistress?”

He chuckled and nodded in approval. “Very wise. But what does he gain by leaving? Struggle? Hardship? Mortality?”

You tilted your head to match his. “Are you telling me that you’d stay on the island?”

His expression shifted for the first time since you’d stepped foot in Madripoor. The overconfident, smirking Baron dissolved into a man.

A man who hid the sense of riotousness that he carried with dramatic flair. A man whose charm and wit seemed fabricated.

This man now, fighting off sleepy eyes and grappling with the moral quandary posed, seemed burdened. You wondered if his quest for justice would ever get to be too much. After all the destruction he’d caused, could he still see himself as the exactor of fairness? Were the Avengers still his enemy? Were you?

“No,” he confessed looking down at the copy in his hands.

Your lips twitched but you didn’t smile. “You’d make the hard choice — the hero’s choice if it came down to it.”

He looked almost somber at your words and nodded.

“In another life…perhaps.”

His voice wavered, almost as if he regretted saying it out loud. The briefing that Sam and Bucky had given you about him flashed in your mind.

A hero's choice was the right thing to do; the hard thing to do. You knew that he was a soldier before everything happened. Just like you.

Was that not a hero’s choice?

He tore the Avengers apart in an attempt to stitch up his own heart. An eye for an eye. Avenging his country because its destruction had been glossed over by the world. His loss fueled his anger but he was more capable than most. A man without armor, or mystical abilities was able to wreak havoc on those who had wronged him.

Was that heroism?

If losing those you love didn’t permit revenge, you weren't sure what did.

He broke the silence by tapping his knuckle on the book.

“It is the perfect testament to the valiance of heroes,” he continued. "But, I must say that the wisest thing Odysseus did was marry his wife.”

You laughed and nodded, remembering how she saved the day. Without her, Odysseus’s homecoming would’ve been much more perilous for him.

“I often find that behind every great man is an even better woman.”

He smirked and didn’t miss a beat. “Like you with…your Avengers.”

“I stand beside them,” you corrected.

He raised an eyebrow and waved a hand. “Semantics."

You gave him an eye roll in return.

He smiled then, wider than you had ever seen. It almost made him seem shy. Perhaps it was because he was making a genuine point, masked in humor.

You were well aware of your importance to this mission and yet burdened by the fact that it didn’t make you a member of their special club. When this was all over, you wouldn’t be an Avenger, or anywhere close. You’d go back to S.W.O.R.D to wait until called upon again. It hadn’t occurred to you before, but there was a pang of sadness there where the thought rested. It’d be a mistake to let Zemo know but it seemed to be too late.

“You’re making fun of me.”

His hand brushed yours. “No. I am merely expressing my concerns about your allegiances.”

Still aware of the small amount of alcohol left in your system, you looked away from his quirked moving lips.

“Enlighten me, Baron. What wrong decisions do you think I’m making?”

Frozen in place, you let him brush his fingers along your wrist to your arm. He took his time, tracing patterns on your skin and inspecting his work with an unwavering gaze. Only when his thumb caressed your cheek, and his hand landed on your neck did he look you in the eyes again. The air in your lungs was gone and your body betrayed you with a furious eruption of butterflies.

“Living a hero’s life,” he said somber-eyed and serious.

Your heart rate quickened. As if you’d learned nothing in S.W.O.R.D about manipulation, you were back to watching his lips. They parted slightly, as if he had something else to say but thought better of it.

A hero.

You didn't feel like one.

A sidekick, maybe. But even then, no one knew your name. No one sang your praises at home or breathed a sigh of relief knowing you were out there in the world fighting evil. It seemed that the only one who thought of you as more than an assistant was Zemo.

Your heart felt heavy then. The two of you were impossible. An inconceivable pair brought together by chance.

But that didn’t make his dark eyes any less enticing or his words any less intoxicating.

That didn’t make you any further from his lips.

He was a breath away, but so was your own destruction.

In another life, the island might tempt you.

“Look,” you said glancing past him to find something to change the subject. “It’s a full moon.”

Without sparing him another glance, you crossed the floor in four quick steps to the large windows. Never one to give up easily, you heard him follow close behind.

He beat you there and pushed open the glass door before gesturing towards the balcony in silence.

You looked down at your feet until the skyline drew your eyes. The plan to diffuse the tension had not worked in the slightest. The moonlit balcony overlooking the beautiful city had only made it worse.

You heard him stop a few feet from you and then settle on the lone armchair. The reality of the situation hit you like a train. Away from the windows, you had privacy. This high up no one would see you and everyone else was in bed. You'd meant to creep out of the lion's den but instead, you'd locked yourself in.

“The moon is a friend for the lonesome to talk to,” Zemo mused from behind you.

“Carl Sanburg,” you confirmed, so he knew you didn't think he'd made it up.

Both of you were silent then. Swaying in the tension you'd built. Sanity pulling you back inside, inexplicable hope keeping you planted in place.

“Are you lonely, Baron?”

The words fell from your lips more delicate and intimate than you had meant them to. You let slip that you cared about his answer. That you might even care to cure him of the ailment.

“Me? No.”

You turned and scoffed.

“Liar. You were in a cell for years and you hardly talk to anyone now that you’re out.”

He leaned back in the chair, arms on either rest and a leg crossed with the ankle of his right knee. His demeanor was harmless in the same way that a predator poised to pounce was. Elegant, still, and ready for the kill.

“Not true,” he corrected. “I talk to you.”

“One person isn’t enough,” you said, taking a step closer.

Were you walking into disaster? Or being pulled? You couldn't tell the difference between his seduction and your own reckless desires any longer.

“The right person though…can be,” he half-whispered. “And you, Y/N, are more than I deserve.”

He gazed up at you from the chair. Kings throughout history, in war-won golden thrones and elegant capes, paled in comparisons to how regal he looked. Anointed with a crown of moonlight, ruling over whomever he pleased.

Your eyes widened with the admission. “Baron — ”

“Helmut, please.” He stood then and met you near the railing, his hand grazing your hip. “Only if for tonight.”

You shook your head, knowing this was a bad idea. His hand made its way to your waist regardless. He pulled you against his chest before searching your eyes for any signal that you were going to run. You knew he’d find nothing. You knew you mirrored his look of lust with blown pupils and flushed cheeks.

“Have I gone too far,” he whispered, bringing his other hand to brush loose hair behind your ear.

“No,” you sighed, letting him pull you closer and brush his lips to your cheek and jaw.

“Tell me if I do,” he whispered again before finally capturing your lips with his.

You uttered no complaints as his tentative kiss turned bruising and possessive. His arms wound around your waist, crushing you into him. But you needed to feel closer. He grunted as you sprung to action, flinging your arms around his neck, deepening the desperate kiss. He tasted like whiskey and something sweet. A cool breeze brushed against the exposed parts of your body. You let your hands wander beneath his coat, chasing warmth and proximity. He let you do as you please, only insisting that his lips stayed on yours.

You let out a whimper as his hand explored the front of your dress. He stopped to press his warm hand against your breast, before holding your face.

It was then that he pulled away, steadying your searching lips with a grip on your chin.

“Ich esse nicht,” he sighed, kissing a pattern to your ear. “Ich schlafe nicht, ich tue nichts anderes, als an dich zu denken.”

His teeth grazed your pulse point, leaving you gasping for air.

“I don’t speak German,” you managed to stutter out.

A hand slid up the back of your dress, gripping the zipper before undoing it in one swift motion and the fabric fell to the floor. The cool air seized your naked torso for only a moment before Zemo pressed himself against you again. The coat you’d complained about before, now provided warmth and security. You tipped your head back, almost over the edge of the balcony as he continued worshipping your neck and chest.

“I don’t eat, I don’t sleep,” he said between wet open-mouthed kisses on your breasts. His hot mouth left purple spots that cooled instantly in the chilly night air.

“I do nothing but think of you,” he finished before toying with your hardened nipple between his teeth.

You moaned then, louder than you should’ve, and let your eyes flutter open. The world was upside-down but you made no motion to move. You were making Madripoor proud by being pressed up against a balcony by an international criminal.

Utterly pleased with himself, Zemo raised his face back towards yours, leaning you both over the edge.

“Shhh liebling,” he cooed.

He pulled you back over, kissing your shoulder before removing his jacket and draping it over you. Each brush of his lips feeling more improper than the last.

“We would not want your friends to see you like this.”

In the next second, he swept you off of your feet and hoisted you into his strong arms. You watched the world sway around you and then settle when he placed you on the lounge chair, letting you get some warmth back from the coat and cushions.

He draped one of your legs over an armrest, exposing you to him except for a thin pair of underwear.

“Not with you spread open for me,” he growled. He towered over you for only a moment before kneeling between your legs. The man whose stature made him the tallest amongst giants; the most important in any room he chose, knelt before you.

“What would they say,” he mumbled in a trace. His hands gripped both of your thighs, causing an eruption of goosebumps across your whole body. “If they saw you like this, with me?”

He looked up at you then, raising an eyebrow, and tracing the inside of your thigh with his thumb.

You answered him breathlessly. “They’d tell you to stop.”

“And what would you say to that?”

His voice sent shockwaves through your system. Dark and sultry, with a hint of danger. You threw your head back again, barely able to keep a single thought straight. Your body shuddered but you couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or the need for his touch. When you looked back to him, he was surveying your body with the hunger of a starved wolf.

“Would you want me to stop?” His voice was gentle and sweet then, asking in earnest.

“Meine Liebe," he taunted you for consent as he flashed a smirk and pulled something from his pocket.

Cold metal grazed your thigh. A moan escaped your throat as he unsheathed a serrated knife and caressed your skin with the dull side.

“I wouldn’t want you to stop,” you gasped, almost vibrating with anticipation. “I don’t want you to stop — Helmut — please don’t stop.”

He chucked again, before focusing his attention on the area between your legs. You bucked slightly as the icy knife slid underneath the fabric. He made one strong slash upwards and you felt the fabric fall away from your wet core. One of his hands gripped your ass, but only for a second before he tore the rest of the fabric from your body.

“How could I ever withhold something from you, liebling?” His nose grazed your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to where you needed him most. It was only a moment before you felt his breath between your legs.

“How cruel it would be,” he growled. You moaned and slapped a hand over your mouth as he kissed your sensitive bundle of nerves. “To not give you everything.”

His tongue swirled against you in a tantalizing pattern, stroking you deliciously. He licked you methodically like he was reading the blueprint of your body right then and there. He held each thigh in a punishing grip, pressing you deeper into the cushions as he made a meal of you. The stars above your head blurred and the universe shifted.

If this was your destruction then it was illustrious. You'd do it over and over again until you landed in a cell right next to him.

“Helmut,” you whined with a heaving chest.

“Tell me what you want,” he mumbled between flicks of his tongue. “And it is yours.”

You would’ve begged him to let you cum but he beat you to it, making your back arch and mouth fall open in ecstasy. You trembled beneath him, over and over, but he didn’t let up. Your legs strained from being extended by his unflinching hands. You tried to stutter something out to him but no sound came except for content sighs and haphazard gasps. But his eyes remained closed regardless of the noise.

Without his mouth on you, he would’ve been mistakable for a good Christian, deep in prayer. Brow's furrowed in focus and devotion; lips moving in silent divine appeals. Only he could make you feel worthy of an alter. You couldn't picture anyone ever worshipping you in the same way again. It was his, you thought. I am his.

Lost in pleasure and shock, you reached up to run your nails against his scalp. Only then did he release you, and raise to meet your waiting lips as they trembled.

“You,” was all you could manage to whisper. “Only you.”

He pulled you from the seat, to wrap your legs around him. You brought your forehead to his and let him pepper you with chaste kisses.

“When I have you,” he said, before pulling the coat around you again. “It will be in a proper bed.”

You stared at him, confused and overwhelmed. The space between your legs ached with a longing to be filled but he let your legs fall away, and stood up.

“We can’t…I mean not now — they’ll hear.”

Zemo smiled and nodded while looking for something on the ground. After a moment of searching, he picked up the torn pieces of the red underwear you had been wearing. Before you could retrieve it, he pocketed the shorn fabric and stared you straight in the eyes.

“Worry not, Y/N,” he purred, reaching a hand out to help you up. “We have all the time in the world.”

#zemo fic #baron zemo fic #baron zemo x you #baron zemo x reader #baron zemo #helmut zemo smut #helmut zemo x you #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo #zemo smut #zemo x reader #zemo fanfic

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Photo

Only in a Sitcom

Fandom: WandaVision Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Jimmy Woo Rating: T

Summary: Darcy has no idea what the hell’s going on with this WandaVision thing, but neither does Jimmy. It’s kinda fun to have somebody to binge-watch alternate reality TV with.

read ch. 1 one / 2 two / 3 three / 4 four / 5 five 6 six / 7 seven / 8 eight / 9 nine / 10 ten 11 eleven / 12 twelve / 13 thirteen / 14 fourteen 15 fifteen / 16 sixteen / 17 seventeen / 18 eighteen

this fic is now complete!

Darcy, Jimmy, and Monica have been working their way across Westview in as straight a line as possible, knocking on every door in every cute little cul-de-sac in their path. It was Jimmy who asserted they should never put their backs to a dangerous situation, but Monica who overruled that statement, pointing out that they were more likely to stay focused if they didn’t keep staring at the fight in the sky.

Darcy thinks they were both right. There’s a tingle rippling up and down the back of her neck, like she gets when she’s up in the middle of the night, spooked by shadows her anxious, overtired mind is too eager to turn into monsters, but the heebie-jeebies give her the energy to work quickly. She takes on an entire crescent on her own, readying people for a departure she’s certain they’ve been longing for. As she’s coming out the crescent’s other end, she realizes the Hex is getting brighter; the red storm clouds are being sucked back into themselves to leave a thin daylight.

Standing at the corner, she watches Jimmy and Monica emerge from the street opposite. Darcy jogs over, wincing. Wanda could’ve put orthotics in these Escape Artist boots. They’re blistering her feet.

“This has to be a good sign, right?” she asks, motioning to the calm skies.

“Look,” Monica instructs. She jerks her chin and Darcy and Jimmy follow her line of sight to see Wanda, Vision, and the twins coming up the main road.

Darcy gasps.

Wanda’s gone from bumming-around-the-house sweats to battle-ready chic. With her armour-like bodice, gloves that leave those magic fingers free, and an usually-shaped tiara framing her forehead, she’s both intimidating and otherworldly. But she’s smiling. Darcy would call it a sad smile and it hurts her heart to see it, even though she doesn’t understand.

As Wanda passes them with her hand held fast in Vision’s, she turns her head to nod at Monica. It’s in her eyes too, the same thing that’s in her smile. Something tired but present. Gone are the comedically darting glances of her persona as the bumbling new girl in town and the frazzled energy of a mom trying to corral a couple of superkids. It looks like she’s finally letting go of the illusion/delusion.

“Can we do anything for her?” Jimmy asks as the family continues on down the middle of the street.

“No,” Monica says. “The rest is for Wanda to do on her own.”

“We might as well head back towards the center of town,” Darcy says. “We don’t need to waste time at the edges. They’ll be the first to wake up.”

She points to where the Hex is shimmering on the horizon. The seconds pass and the shimmer looks messier, a weave of overlapping wires fritzing with energy. The edge is coming closer, but unlike when Wanda pushed the boundary farther, closing it around Darcy and her S.W.O.R.D. nemeses, this isn’t menacing. Wanda’s powers are no longer looking to consume more territory, they’re contracting. Faster than the incoming wave of the walls, the Hex goes dark. The red glow is intensely magical in the sudden night.

The three of them fan out, hitting the houses in their new route, and make their way back to the town square. They’ve been telling everyone to remain in their homes until they receive further instructions to evacuate, but Darcy spots a figure on the sidewalk by the department story. It’s Agnes, except… not as they saw her lately. No wild hair or billowing, layered outfit. No levitation. Darcy’s wary in the face of the woman who appears so much like her former self, the one supposedly under Wanda’s control. This Agnes has a damn Peter Pan collar poking out of her sweater! She couldn’t look much less threatening.

“What do you think?” she asks Monica when she joins her.

“I don’t know.” Monica peers across the street at Agnes in the dark and when Agnes notices, she flashes a wide smile.

“Well, maybe we should— Hey, no, wait!”

But the Captain strides across to meet Agnes. Darcy almost follows in her idol’s wake, but she quickly remembers that Monica has powers to protect herself that far exceed the right hook Darcy used to drop Agent Handcuffs. Whatever Agnes’s deal is, Darcy knows she’s an entirely different kind of beast from an asshole S.W.O.R.D. agent.

“What’s going on there?” Jimmy wonders, coming up beside her.

Thanks to the stress of trying to speak to as many citizens as possible in a short amount of time, including looking dozens of people still under mind control in the eye and aching for their lack of agency, the fear of and for Wanda as she witnessed that clash in the sky, and, really, the car crash that’s still pretty recent, Darcy reacts to her boyfriend’s presence by wrapping her arms around him tightly. With his tie pressed to her cheek, she feels him hug her back.

“I don’t know,” she says, carrying on the conversation without pulling away an inch, “but Monica’s finding out.”

“Agnes looks like an average Westviewer again. It’s disconcerting.”

“She must’ve been faking right up until she went head-to-head with Wanda.”

“And now she’s one of them for real.”

“Seems like,” Darcy agrees.

When Monica returns to confirm Agnes’s newly mind-controlled status, Darcy peels herself most of the way away from Jimmy, leaving her arm around his back, beneath his FBI jacket. He rests his arm around her shoulders.

“I don’t know what we do with her,” Monica says, hands on her hips. “We can’t undo what Wanda did, but do we leave Agnes here in Westview, trusting that she isn’t able to hurt anyone? Do we bring her in?”

“If it’s beyond our power to help her, maybe we just leave her here,” Jimmy suggests. “Wanda knows where she is, so we let Agnes stay in a place she can be found when or if Wanda decides to release her.”

“It’s tricky,” Darcy says slowly. “Agnes is capable of doing so much damage, and I’m sure she’s going to get good and angry while Wanda has her trapped inside herself. You and I know how that feels,” she says to Monica. “But that Agnes is secure—as far as we know—inside Sitcom Agnes, like little Agnes nesting dolls. I don’t know if this is the kind of punishment she deserves for pushing Wanda to the brink, but I do know it’s not going to be pretty if that inner Agnes is unleashed with nobody around to mitigate the consequences.”

“Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division,” Monica says softly.

“Hmm?”

“S.W.O.R.D. That’s what we’re supposed to stand for. I think, without Tyler Hayward around, it’s high time S.W.O.R.D. went back to its roots of trying to understand exceptional people, circumstances, and technology instead of just attacking them.”

“Sounds as though you might have a plan, Captain,” Jimmy says. Darcy glances at his face and catches his small, knowing smile.

Monica beams back.

“The former Director may have kicked me off the base, but I’m still S.W.O.R.D. and I still believe in my mother’s original goals for the organization.”

“Hey, it’s your legacy,” Darcy says. “You have my vote for Director.”

“You want to put Agnes under S.W.O.R.D. observation?” Jimmy asks.

“Not just Agnes. Not if Wanda’s willing to listen.”

With the sky rapidly lightening, Monica roughs out a plan that involves a partnership between S.W.O.R.D. and Wanda Maximoff. A partnership because any other dynamic would surely fail. After what they all witnessed today, it’s obvious that someone as powerful as Wanda can’t be held against her will. In exchange for Wanda making reparations to the people and town of Westview (not the least of which will be repairing all physical damage, which Monica knows Wanda’s capable of, since there’s no longer a Monica-sized hole in her living room wall) and an agreement to be held in the custody of S.W.O.R.D., under the leadership of Director Monica Rambeau, Monica thinks she has plenty to offer Wanda.

“You think she’ll do that deal?” Jimmy asks.

“That’s my question too,” Darcy says. “I mean, without the deal, Wanda can go where she pleases, right?”

“But she’ll be alone,” Monica counters. “We know what her loved ones mean to her. That’s what all this has been about—Wanda doing whatever it takes in order to go through life less alone.”

“What can you give her?”

“Vision,” Jimmy says abruptly. “The other one, the one who left. You think he’ll be back.”

“I think he’ll want answers,” Monica agrees. “Whatever Hayward did to him, he did at S.W.O.R.D. and I’m betting that Wanda will see that’s her best chance to reunite with Vision.”

“Vision will come back,” Darcy says, putting it together, “and Wanda will be there waiting.”

“And in the meantime, we use her expertise as we continue our work in a… more transparent vein. Give her access, keep her busy.”

“Keep her happy,” Jimmy cuts in. Monica nods her acknowledgement.

“Yes. Show her what it’s like to help people again. What better way to remind her there’s more to the world than her artificial paradise than to have her consult on the work we’re doing in space?”

“If you need somebody to sell Wanda on the space angle, I’m your girl,” Darcy volunteers.

“I’ve already had some ideas about that,” Monica promises with a smile.

Her eyes focus beyond Darcy and Jimmy and they turn to see what she’s looking at. Black hood drawn up over her head, Wanda’s walking back into the downtown. Alone. Darcy hopes that the fact that she’s black-hatted doesn’t mean she’s already decided against working to redeem herself to rejoin the good guys.

“You better stay in touch too,” Monica tells Jimmy, shifting as she prepares to intercept Wanda.

“If you reach out to Darcy, I’m sure I won’t be far,” he says. Darcy’s heart performs quick, happy thumps.

With that, Monica walks purposely towards Wanda. Darcy watches her cautious body language and Wanda’s tension in response to being accosted, but there isn’t any visible escalation. When FBI vehicles and the team Darcy assumes belongs to Major Goodner roll up the street, Wanda doesn’t flee. Darcy looks to Jimmy.

“You better go take charge,” she suggests.

He gives her a bashful smile.

“I will in a minute. The evacuation should run like clockwork after all the prep we did. With the Hex removed, everyone’s free.”

“They’re free, I’m free…”

“Are you free Saturday?” The smile’s a little slyer now.

“After all this, I don’t even know what day of the week it is,” Darcy admits, “but yes.”

He laughs.

“What are you thinking?” she asks, twisting to face him as his hand moves from her shoulder to her waist. “Quiet night in watching TV?”

“You know, I think I need a break from TV for a while. How about a movie?”

Darcy grins.

“You buy the tickets, I’ll buy the snacks?”

“Deal,” Jimmy says, and smiles against her mouth when he ducks his head to kiss her.

#my writing #Only in a Sitcom #wandavision #wandavision spoilers #Darcy Lewis #Jimmy Woo #Monica Rambeau #Darcy Lewis x Jimmy Woo #Darcy x Jimmy #Vision

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damn-stark · 3 years

Text

La vie en rose pt.3

Pietro Maximoff x reader

Warning- Angst, sadness, swearing, fluff and spoilers!

Episode; 1x06

————

“We would like to commemorate Tony Stark—”

*click*

“In honor of Iron Man—”

*click*

“We would like to thank our heroes who sacrificed their lives, who risked them all for us; Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Dr. Bruce Banner and Tony Stark. Thank—”

*click*

“...Iron Man—”

The tv lost the moving pictures and was replaced by a dark screen that reflected Wanda in your room with the control in her hand. You drop your gaze and sigh out deeply, feeling the empty spot beside on your bed lower as she sits down.

You look at the silver ring on your finger and speak up in almost a whisper. “Did they find his body?”

Wanda sighs, “no.”

You nod slowly and let out a small, exhausted laugh. “Yeah, no why would they even try...after all he did he’s still viewed as some enemy. He died to fight that stupid war...they both did and neither of them have been mentioned.” Tears roll down your cheeks but you’re quick to wipe them off, “we’re not even thanked—so much for trying to be good. So much for being heroes.”

“You know it’s never been about...fame.” She reminds you finally making your eyes lift to look at her, noticing right away that her gaze was lost on nothing in particular in the room.

“I know that. I don’t want that, I never have….it’s just,” you pause to clear your throat, “a thanks would be fine. Not for me, but for Pietro, for Vision. All I’ve heard all day has been about how fantastic Tony Stark was...they can’t even mention Natasha.”

“Yeah,” Wanda whispers, “I know.”

You sigh and rub your temple to try and cure your pounding headache. “It’s just after all we’ve done, after we tried to be good for them, so they could know we aren’t bad, they treat us like this? They can’t even bother to find Pietro’s body—” You cut yourself off and feel more tears fill your eyes, your throat burns but you stop yourself from crying even more. Not like you could even do it anymore, no more tears rolled down, you couldn’t even manage to do that anymore. “Any luck with Vision's body?”

Wanda sniffles and nods. “Actually they have, he’s in some place called S.W.O.R.D, in Florida. And I’m going and I’m...not coming back.”

You blink and lift your eyes to look at her through your glossy gaze. You lift a brow and question her revelation. “Alone?”

Wanda turns her head to look at you and her lips tug into a small smile. “I was just going to ask if you wanted to come with me….you’re all I have left.”

You express a scoff and let a relieved smile tug on your lips. “Good, I was just about to go on a rant. You saved yourself from hearing it.”

Wanda chuckles softly and reaches to hold your hand resting besides hers on the bed. “We’re family. We’re all we have left.”

——

“Hello, little witch, you’re not going to let me in?”

Your eyes widen and you step back as you cover your mouth with your hand—this had to be some sort of trick by those same agents that had barged into the town. This man didn’t even look like Pietro and plus Pietro was already here, he was—he was.

“Am I at least going to get a hello? A hug? Kiss?”

You slowly drop your hand back on your side and you narrow your gaze on him, taking in his outfit and looking at his face once again. It was just unbelievable.

“Who is this, y/n?”

At the sound of Pietro—your real Pietro's voice suddenly appearing next to you, you jump back and hold back the yelp that wanted to come out of your mouth. You turn your head to look at him and you begin to laugh nervously. “This is…” you drift your eyes to look at...the different Pietro outside your door and you close your mouth and exhale deeply.

“Pietro Maximoff, just like you, so this is...awkward. We’re each other.” The different Pietro chuckles awkwardly.

“What? What are you talking about?”

You approach your door and keep your eyes on the different Pietro, wondering what the hell was going on. “How exactly are you here?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Maybe you missed me too much.”

“What?” Pietro asks as he steps beside you, losing all sort of amusement. “Who are you man?”

Different Pietro sighs and hits his leg gently, “I told you, I’m you. But I’m actually ali—”

“Hey!” You cut him off sharply, “you know maybe it’s a good idea if you go see Wanda. Or just go back to wherever you came from.”

“But I came here to see you.”

You avoid looking at your Pietro and just maintain your attention on the different Pietro. “I-I...Just go.”

“Fine, fine,” he raises his hands and before he could finish his sentence you close the door and have no choice but to deal with the problem that was going to arise here inside your home. It’s not like you could avoid it, Pietro wasn’t going to drop it, not after what that...different Pietro kept saying.

You could always make Pietro forget it with a simple use of your powers and the wave of your hand.

But no. You couldn’t always turn to that.

“Y/N, would you care to explain what the hell just happened?” Pietro asks while he stays behind you.

You close your eyes and lean your forehead on your hand that was still on the door and you sigh. “I don’t even know.”

“What do you mean? He seemed to know you.”

“Don’t you think that if I knew I wouldn’t tell you?” You ask.

Pietro stays silent for a while and you stay in your same position to try and solve what had just happened—maybe it was all just a bad trip? Maybe it was the food? It couldn’t be just some effect of your powers...right? Because...well...the Pietro with you was already the result of that and you don’t remember making two.

“Y/N? I’m trying to have a conversation, who was he? Why did he say he was me?” Pietro presses, finally making you push yourself back and open your eyes to slowly turn and look at him to notice that his expression was perplexed yet it also mixed with frustration. “Y/N?”

You look at him for a while longer and as you open your mouth nothing comes out, you look at his face and you can’t bring yourself to even try to explain what was going on. Instead you walk down to your living room and begin cleaning up the table and try to ignore the situation.

“Hey, I’m talking to you.” Pietro says as he follows after you. “Explain to me what just happened.”

You swallow thickly and throw away what food remained on the plates instead of turning to Pietro—which only resulted in him using his speed to put the plates away and turn you around to face him before you could even blink.

“Talk.”

“Fine,” you sigh, “but I’m telling the truth, I don’t know who he was. He might be you, but he also might not be and it just leaves me confused because I don’t know what’s going on.” You ramble.

Pietro steps back and he looks lost and angry. But you didn't know how to make him feel better when you didn’t know what that was. Yet he still kept demanding the truth. “Are you keeping things from me?”

“What?” You gasp softly. “Pietro.”

“Then explain why he said he came here to see you, why you were acting so weird. Why sometimes this town is weird. Be honest with me about what’s going on, y/n.”

You walk back and tears come out this time. Again you try to avoid the situation by doing something else, but Pietro was doing the opposite of what you wanted him to do and that only confused you more.

“I’m talking to you!” Pietro raised his voice, speeding to block your path up the stairs. “Tell me, what’s. Going. On. Are you seeing someone else?”

“What?” You snap, “don't be ridiculous.” You push him aside and walk to your shared room. “Just know that we live in the place we do to be together. This place is safe and there’s nothing weird about this town, so don’t question it.”

“Mhmm.”

Finally hearing Pietro stop at the door, you stop halfway into your room and you lift your head but don’t turn to face him. “I don’t know why he says he’s you, I really,” you sigh, “don’t know. But you, Pietro, are the man I love, you are the reason why I’m here, why I’m even supporting the idea of this place. You’re the only reason why I’m not losing control and not facing the reality that you’re actually—” you cut yourself off as you’re unable to even finish the sentence, even think of the word. Memories and pain threaten to resurface, but with a simple look at him as you turn around, it all gets blocked off and pushed aside to the depths of your mind and heart.

“I’m actually what?” Pietro probes, “you explain to me, yet I’m still confused. Just be clear, you’ve never kept things from me. Don’t start now.”

“This town,” you start whilst you take only one step towards him, “this…” again you cut yourself and you only shake your head and cry softly. “I can’t, I’m sorry, but I can’t. I can’t lose control of the only peace I have, of the only thing I can control. This second chance at life has to remain perfect.” You lift your hand and turn it so your palm could face you. The yellow hues of your powers emerge on your palm and you fist your hand. Pietro looks at the hues and shakes his head.

“Y/N, don’t use your powers, just—”

You slowly unclench your fist and flick two fingers out to throw the yellow hue at him to hit his head and change this behavior, have him return to being as before; clueless of any suspicions of this town, or what could be going on. Instead of watching the hue hit him, instead of talking to him after the power did it’s thing, you go into the bathroom, lock the door, undress, and step into the shower where you let the warm water run down your body and tears mix with the water running down your face.

“I’m not losing control,” you whisper, “I’m not. I’m not losing control…”

——

“Hello children!” You greet with a grin, looking at the open door to see only Billy had opened the door. “Hello Billy.”

“Hi, aunt y/n,” his eyes look behind you and his eyebrows knot together, he stays there for a second and blinks repeatedly until Wanda walks up behind him.

“Y/N, you’re finally here.”

You nod and walk into her house with Pietro quietly tailing after you.

“Have you met our problem yet?” You question in a whisper, seeing Pietro walk down with Tommy to sit with Billy.

Wanda nods and follows your line of sight. “Yes, did you make him?”

You shake your head, “no, and since I was going to ask you that, I’m going to say you didn’t either.”

“No, what’s going on?”

You sigh and walk down the two steps to stand behind the couch. “I don’t know, but all I know is that there was problems after this new….Pietro came to my house.”

Wanda crosses her arms over her chest and lets out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. So what did you do? I mean having both Pietros here?”

“I used my powers to make Pietro not question it, to just go with it because I can’t deal with having to explain the truth. Not yet. Not when I don’t know what’s going on.” You explain before you catch Vision walking downstairs. “Let’s talk later.”

“Yeah,” Wanda nods, “okay.”

“Woah! Sweet costume bro-ham-in-law.” The different Pietro comments. “Let me guess. Uh, traffic light. Half shucked corn. A booger!”

You narrow your gaze at his guesses and wonder what was wrong with this Pietro. He was so...childish.

“Who are you supposed to be aunt y/n?” Tommy asks as he fianlly tears his eyes off the tv.

A small smile appears on your lips and you walk to Pietro to stand next to you. “Guess.”

“A rich girl and, uh yourself uncle Pietro? ”

Pietro chuckles and nods. “Exactly.”

You scoff and hook your arm around his. “No, take another guess. I don’t think you’re clueless to who we could be.”

“Teenagers!” Billy throws out.

You muster a feigned smile and shake your head. “No. We’re Cher and Josh! From Clueless, duh!”

The twins look at each other and then at Pietro and then shrug, causing Pietro and you to share and look before looking at the twins again.

“I told you we should’ve gone with something else.” Pietro whispers in your ear. “Like Han Solo and Princess Leia. Only you could’ve have worn her prisoner costume. You know the bikini thing.” Pietro grins and winks. “It would’ve been fun.”

You tilt your head his way and smirk. “For who?”

“For me.”

You roll your eyes and focus back on the twins. “Given by your clueless faces you guys have no idea who they are.” You laugh at your own joke and elbow Pietro. “I did it again.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

You step back and grin smugly. “I’m funny.”

Different Pietro suddenly stands behind you and offers you a fake laugh. “Hilarious, little witch.”

You stiffen and your smile falls, he doesn’t comment anything else and just shoots you a grin before joining the twins—which of course they can’t help but question the problem.

“Why are there two of you?”

Before either of the Pietro's answer, you sit between the twins and make a funny excuse. “Have you guys seen that one movie, Men in Black?”

“Yes.” They both answer simontinosly.

“Well,” you whisper as you look at both Pietros, “that’s happening now. One of them is an alien, but don’t tell them that, or the mission your mom and I are under will be blown.”

The twins smile as they look at you and they exclaim, “cool!”

“What do you say boys! Who’s ready for that first hit of high fructose corn syrup?” Vision exclaims albeit they focus on their game and don’t pay attention to their father. You stand up and sit on the couch, watching all four of them play their game and drink a soda from the can. Your mind wanders and only a faint memory plays in your mind.

“Look, I bought a bag of candy and rented four movies.” Your father says as he shows off the movies in his hands. “Three scary ones and a rom-com so we can watch it after those.”

“What about costumes?” You ask with a grin.

Your father sighs and his blue eyes lose their excited light as a disappointed frown grows on his lips. “I’m sorry but I couldn’t buy them this year. I know I promised, but I couldn’t afford them.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, “we can make our own!”

You look down at your silver bracelet and feel a wave of sadness crashing in, you’re oblivious to what’s going around you until you hear Vision call to Pietro—your Pietro.

“Pietro, why don’t you come with me.”

You look over your shoulder and see Vision by the door ready to go. You look to Wanda and see a perplexed expression on her own face and you instantly know something was wrong.

You push yourself to your feet and turn to face the group. “Where are you going Vision?”

“Neighborhood watch.” He explains, “Halloween is the perfect opportunity for pranks and we need to take care of our neighborhood and catch those vigilantes. I thought Pietro would want to come.”

Before you could make an excuse for Pietro to come with you, he steps with a surprising answer. “Sounds like a great plan. Let’s go.”

“But,” you interject, “Pietro were in a couple costume, it won’t make sense if you’re not with me.”

Pietro turns to you and shrugs, “it’s okay, you’re always saying that I should get more along with Vision, this is the perfect opportunity.”

You part your lips to argue, but Vision cuts in. “It’s okay, y/n, we’ll get along well.”

Pietro walks to you and plants a kiss on your forehead and adds a sweet comment before walking towards Vision without another explanation. “I’ll see you later, my love.”

“You have a spooky time tonight, kids.” Vision adds before giving Wanda a kiss on her cheek and adding an odd comment, “Be good.” That he masks with doing a funny action and last comment, “I smell crime,” and leaving with Pietro in tow, leaving you with your mouth agape and confused.

——

“That was…” Wanda trials off to let you finish.

“Weird. Yeah,” you nod, “was it a good idea to let them go?”

“No,” Wanda interjects, “but I can’t do anything about it, Vision is starting to…suspect.”

You cross your arms over your chest and nod slowly. “So was Pietro. I don’t know what to do.”

“We just have to let it,” Wanda pauses and lazily waves her hand, “let it flow.” She looks at you and smiles, “nice costume change.”

“Oh why thank you,” you smirk, “now I’m no longer a rich girl, but..” you look down at your black and red jumpsuit, and the red cloak around you and shrug, “...I’m not so sure, character from their game, or a superhero? Billy chose it.”

“Unleash hell, demon spawn!” The different Pietro exclaims making Wanda and you look at him nervously before she spoke on her own curiosity about him.

“Do you remember when we were at the orphanage after mom and dad died? What was the name of that kid who was always trying to steal your boots? You know he was the one...he had the...he had the skin thing.”

“You’re testing me.” The different Pietro points out to her.

“No, I’m not.”

Pietro raises his hands as he explains. “Hey. It’s cool. I know I look different.”

“Why do you look different?” You ask.

“Wanda should tell me. I mean, if I found Shangri-La, I wouldn’t wanna be reminded of the past either.”

Wanda and you share a look, but don’t say anything because Tommy runs up to the group. “Next house, mom.”

“Junior entrepreneur, over here.” Pietro points to the kid. “How about you let uncle P help you maximize your candy acquisition, huh?”

Tommy chuckles, “yeah, kickass.”

“I feel the need…”

“For speed.” Tommy finishes before Pietro speeds them off leaving Wanda and you behind.

“Kick-ass.” Wanda repeats before one of her neighbors catches her attention. “Oh, hey, Herb.”

“Oh, hey!”

“How’s patrol going?” She asks as you both walk up to him.

“Eh, quiet so far. Hold up, will you?” He holds a finger up and talks to his comm, “say again. All the candy had disappeared?”

You look around you and see the blue flash zoom past, giving you the solution to Herbs problems.

“And now all the Jack-o’-lanterns have been smashed. And now everyone’s covered in silly string? Sorry Wanda and y/n, I gotta bounce.”

“Well maybe Vision and Pietro can help you out.” Wanda tries to assure him, expressing a quiet chuckle.

“Vision?” He quips, “oh, he’s not on duty.”

“Oh!”She mouths, “I...I thought he…”

“Is there something I can do for you, Wanda? Do you want something changed?”

You look at Wanda and she just turns his….worry down. “No.” She chuckles nervously, “it’s fine. Never mind.”

Herb chuckles, “all right. Peace.”

You watch him leave and just breathe out what tangled in your head, you simply pushed away the problem. You couldn’t deal with it on Halloween.

——

“Last night, Pietro talked about having a baby.” You reveal to Wanda, who slowly turns her head to look at you wide eyed and with an excited smile appearing on her lips.

“Really?” Her red lips drop her smile and she quirks an eyebrow. “Are you not excited?”

“Eh,” you shrug, “I mean it’s not that I didn’t think of having a family before, but,” you pause and swallow thickly, “I don’t know.”

“He’s not moving too fast for you now is he?” Wanda jokes.

You turn your head to meet her gaze and you snort and can’t help the smile that grows on your lips. “That was funny.”

Wanda grins and seems to be proud of her joke. It was hard not to smile with her.

“But no it’s not—-it is that,” you admit, “before he kept saying,” you clear your throat and imitate his accent, “we should explore the world, go to every beautiful place we can go to and not have to worry about anyone else but ourselves.” Your frown returns and you cross your arms over your chest and walk in a slower pace after her kids and the different Pietro. “He didn’t want to settle down just yet, he enjoyed not being restricted.”

Wanda looks at her twins and then at the different Pietro and nods, speaking quietly. “Yeah he did say that. But,” she begins to fiddle with her fingers and shrugs as she suggests something. “Maybe you do want them. That’s why he’s saying that. You’re happy here, and maybe you think it’s a perfect chance now.”

You look away from her and stay quiet as your thoughts rush in, as you deeply think of what she said.

Finding that there was some truth behind it. You felt secure here, felt like you could have a perfect second chance, you felt like you could….forget what happened before, why you had to make Pietro. You could forget it all and live a normal life, one that you had lived once upon a time ago years ago….

But even if that sounded like paradise, what if something happened that ruined this perfect life? Those people outside the town seemed adamant on barging in. What if you got too attached and then they found a way to make you...lose control?

You gently rub your temple and notice that as you were too lost in thought, Wanda had been dragged away by her twins and you were now walking alone in the middle of the street. Albeit you weren’t in silence for long.

“Hey.”

You look to your side and of course see the different Pietro at your side. You sigh and offer him a forced smile. “Hello.”

“You’ve been a stranger today.”

You chuckle softly and shake your head to look away.

“So what’s our deal, huh? What are you going to do now that there's two of us?” The different Pietro continues.

You scoff, “I’m going to stay with my husband, my Pietro.” You turn to look at him and don’t recognize who you’re looking at. “I look at you and I don’t see the man I met in Sokovia. I look at you and I don’t recognize you.”

“I may not look the same as the other Pietro, but I am legit.” He tries to assure you.

You narrow your gaze on him and study his face, noticing he copied your action. Yet not your next question. “Okay, if you are then tell me what you told me in Sokovia, when Ultron and his drones were attacking the city.”

The different Pietro chuckles and shakes his head as he points at you. “I see what you’re doing and it’s not going to work that way. I know you’re favorite song though, it’s Blitzkrieg Bop—”

“Eh,”

“Eh I wasn’t finished,” he interrupts, “you like jammin out to it when you’re alone and every time you hear it you get this cute little smile on your face.”

“Psh,” you wave off, hiding the inside of your cheek to stop the flustered smile that threatened to spread. “That was a very educated guess.”

“Plus,” he continues, “I can get out. Isn’t that what you want? To get out. With me? Living life from beach to beach?”

Any sort of happiness you had at this moment vanished and you looked at him with a burning glare.

“What happens when this place goes down? You’ll be alone because the other Pietro can’t get out. Not like me, this place goes down and I will still be here. It’s time to stop pushing your problems away and face reality. Ever since I met you you’ve tended to do that; just push everything away and ignore it. Well I’ll tell you one of these you’re going to blow.”

Your jaw and your fist clenches and just as you feel your powers emerge from your hand, the twins and Wanda join you again; leaving you fuming and without an opportunity to fight back. Leaving you utterly quiet.

——

“How about once we finish with this,” you suggest to Billy, “we all have family night, change into some comfy clothes, watch scary movies, and then a funny movie while we eat all the candy we can?!”

“Yes that sounds cool.” Billy agrees, “but can we stay the night with you and uncle Pietro? Mom doesn’t let us stay late, or eat sweets at night.”

You smirk and nod. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for. To be the fun aunt!” You raise your hand to give him a high five but before he could meet your hand halfway, he drops his hand and looks up to the sky and leaves you hanging but curious. When you look up all you see is stars, you want to question it, but Tommy speeds your way and Billy stops him with a single raise of his hand, and the use of his powers that suddenly emerged.

Tommy looks down at the blue hues that stopped his super speed and he grins excitedly. “Wow, Billy.”

Said boy shushes him and before you could share Tommy’s excitement your gaze narrows on the trouble expressed in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Billy’s eyes widen and he suddenly turns away to call for his mom. “Mom!”

Tommy and you look at each other as Billy runs before you two go after him.

“Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!”

At the sound of the shouts once they get closer, Wanda stands up and looks at Billy with concern. “What? What is it Billy?”

“I hear dad,” Billy pants, “in my head. He’s in trouble.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t help but instantly think about Pietro and his well being. “What about your uncle Pietro? Is he okay?”

Billy looks at you and he stays quiet while his gaze unfocuses for a brief second until he finds a response. “I don’t know, I don’t hear him.” He turns back to his mom frightened by this new discovery. “I don’t know what's happening to me.”

“Where is he?” Wanda probes. “Where’s your dad?”

“Hey don’t sweat it, sis,” the different Pietro interjects cockily, “it’s not like your dead husband can die twice.”

At his comment Wanda snaps back and doesn’t hesitate to use her powers to throw him back and leave him on the ground for good. On the other hand leaving Tommy stunned and a little bit afraid.

“Why did you just do that, mom?”

You look to the confused little boy and walk to him to assure him. “It’s okay. Do you remember what I told you earlier? About one of your uncles being a secret alien?”

“Yeah,” Tommy nods.

“Well this one was it,” you smile softly, “and your mom discovered him and just helped solve that problem. Your real uncle is back home, okay?”

Tommy smiles, “okay.”

When you look back to Wanda, she suddenly throws her hands out and freezes everyone around including her kids, she closes her eyes and suddenly a strong wave of her powers emerge from within her and fly out around her. You barely manage to block it and avoid being hit with the hues. You can’t even question what she’s doing—not like you had the reason to doubt her, or stop her, you trusted her and kept your own force field up as waves of bright red fly past you.

You only drop what protected you after the red hues disappeared, and she opened her eyes again to show the red disappearing from them. Wanda unfroze everything and looked at you with the same concern. “Go home and check if Pietro is fine.”

“Yeah, alright,” you comply, looking to the twins to add one last thing before you leave. “Can I reschedule movie night for tomorrow?”

Billy nods and you smile before you fly back home, landing a few feet away from your house and slowly walking the rest of the way there, seeing Pietro sitting on the steps of the front porch and looking up to meet your gaze as he heard you coming.

“Are you okay?” You question softly as you stop before him.

Pietro nods and right away you notice that something was off; he didn’t greet you with a funny comment, or a joke, he didn’t smile, he looked serious and angry. And that made you dread what was coming.

“Is that weird guy still around?” Pietro finally asks.

You shake your head and try to offer him an assuring smile, but before you could, you look at him with disbelief and blink before questioning what he had said like if you hadn’t understood him. “What?”

Pietro stands up and looks down at you from the steps. “That guy that said he was me, is he still around? Don’t act like you don’t know, or like if I don’t, I avoided being hit by your power last night, I remember everything.”

“I,” you part your lips as you search his face for your response. “No.” You look away and shake your head, there wasn’t a way to avoid this now. “No he’s not around, he was some fake person trying to mess things up, but he’s not...around anymore.”

“Hmm.” Pietro walks back to the porch and then to the front door to open it and point his head inside. “Let’s talk inside.”

“Uh, okay, yeah.” You sigh and without sparing another second you walk inside with the inside of your cheek in between your teeth.

Once you’re in the middle of the living room, you turn to see him a few feet away looking at you with those pretty blue eyes that made your heart melt every time. Even when he was mad.

“I found out where we are,” he begins to explain in a calm voice. “What this place is and why everyone acts so weird.”

You blink repeatedly and try to go up to him, try to explain yourself, “Pietro, I can—”, but he interrupts you before you could go any further.

“Tell me, be honest with me. Did you make this place?” This bubble around this town that forbids everyone from leaving?”

“No,” you shake your head, “I didn’t. It was Wanda, but we don’t know how it happened, I’m being honest, Pietro.”

Pietro swallows thickly and nods slowly in understandment. “Okay. Now explain to me why you’re not letting these innocent people go? Why you have them under some type of mind control? Why you’re hurting them.”

Again you take a step towards him and you stay sincere. “I’m not hurting them, they’re okay. Wanda said that they’re fine.”

“Y/N, in the outskirts of town, one of them was crying, she was barely moving. She kept repeating her action, and when Vision connected with Agnes, she said she needed help.” Pietro walks towards you and in his voice anger seeps through. “So tell me y/n are Wanda and you hurting them?”

“No!”

“You know I remember only parts of my past with you, just parts, it’s like they were chosen memories. I only have one memory of my childhood, I know Wanda is my sister, but I can’t remember anything else.” He continues, “it’s confusing as hell. The only thing I'm sure of is that, we promised to help innocent people, to save them, so they could avoid having the same fate as us, and now you’re doing the one thing that you promised not to do.”

“What?” You gasp softly, “no, no I’m not hurting anyone, I promise,” you keep insisting with a shaky voice. “Pietro, I promise that I’m not hurting anyone, believe me, please.” You try to cup his cheeks but he pushes your hands away.

“Fine. Then tell me why you lied to me, huh? Out of everything I found out what hurts the most is that you lied. Sure, if you want to make this thing, then do it, but don’t lie to me, don’t keep altering my memory so I would forget things when they were inconvenient for you.” He argued in a louder voice, “y/n, we’re partners, you’re supposed to tell me things, not push your problems away.”

You look away from him and breathe out deeply, you step back and clench your fists as he kept arguing.

“I thought we were better than this. But I guess not. I mean it’s unbelievable that you would mess with me, why you would keep things from me.”

“It’s because I want us to be happy,” you interject, trying to suppress your anger. “Just understand that and stop questioning everything.”

“Or what? You’re going to make me forget? Play with my mind?” He remarks as he steps towards you. “Tell me, the real reason why I can’t remember, why you keep messing with my mind, why you built this dome.”

“Because I want us to be happy.” You grumble whilst yellow hues spark on your palm. “That’s the truth. This town, this dome is the only thing that is guaranteeing that. You don’t want to know the reason why you can only remember part of your past, trust me. You don’t want to know.” Tears sting your eyes and you shove away memories that threatened to surface.

“Why? Explain to me.”

You snap your eyes to him and sigh out deeply. “Pietro, stop.”

“Then tell me, why.” He insists with more anger seeping through his voice. You ignore him but he keeps pressing on the matter. Only making you angrier and making it harder for you to keep in control of your emotions and the powers that grew stronger.

“Y/N tell me.”

You ignore him and try to walk past him, but he grabs your arm and swiftly turns you to face him. “Tell me.”

You rip your arm away and whisper out a sharp warning, “Pietro, please.”

“No, just tell—”

You finally snap and in one moment from the next you use your powers to throw him back as you shout out your final response, “I said no!”

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mystical-flute · 3 years

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Love Persevered

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It's not S.W.O.R.D that ends up with Vision's body, it's S.H.I.E.L.D, and a miracle happens when Wanda goes to collect his body.

Wanda Maximoff had heard of S.H.I.E.L.D. Of course she had - she had heard many, many things about them during her time with HYDRA. How evil they were, for standing in the way of greatness, of glory...

When she’d heard about the real S.H.I.E.L.D from Clint and Natasha, she was almost disappointed she never got the chance to work with them. Nick Fury and Phil Coulson sounded like better people than the monsters that had tortured her and Pietro and brainwashed them into doing their bidding.

She shuddered a little, striding into S.H.I.E.L.D’s headquarters. It was smaller than she would have anticipated an organization of its caliber being, but Wanda supposed, after all the damage that had been caused after the Blip and other issues leading up to it, she should be grateful the organization existed at all.

What she was worried about was why they were the ones that had Vision’s body. Yes, he had been listed on the Wall of Heroes, and she was very grateful for it, but why hadn’t he been buried? Why hadn’t he gotten what Tony Stark had?

It was up to her to give it to him.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Wanda Maximoff. I’m here for Vision’s - I - I’m here for Vis - ” she’d tried to steal her nerves, tried to come to grips with what she was asking for, but the words just wouldn’t come out. “Please. I know he’s here.”

The woman behind the desk gave her a sad, understanding smile as she picked up the phone. “Director, Wanda Maximoff is here.” A pause. “Yes sir,” she put the phone back down and turned back to Wanda. “Director Mackenzie will be waiting for you on the third floor at the end of the hall. Just use those doors. Elevator is on your right.”

Wanda blinked in surprise. It would be that easy? Really? Normally with government agencies there was a host of red tape she needed to cut through. But maybe S.H.I.E.L.D understood she wasn’t here to fight, or even talk. She was just here to give Vision the goodbye he deserved.

“Thank you,” she managed to choke out, before rushing through the doors and up to the third floor as directed.

“Hello Miss Maximoff. I’m Director Alphonso Mackenzie. Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Wanda, and thank you. Can I see him?”

“Of course, right this way.”

He pushed the door behind him open, allowing Wanda to step through into what she could only describe as a lab. On a table, covered in a white sheet, was what she assumed was Vision. However, she was more concerned with the people that were standing nearby, looking at records and computer screens.

“Who are they?” she heard herself ask sharply.

“Fitz,” the one woman said, pointing at the man next to her.

“Simmons,” the man said, pointing at the woman who had first spoken.

The second woman rolled her eyes, holding out her hand. “I’m Daisy.”

Wanda shook it suspiciously. “What were you doing with Vision?”

“We… were hoping to give you some options, Wanda,” Mack began. “S.H.I.E.L.D has been able to create androids called Life-Model Decoys, or LMD’s. They’re essentially reconstructions of people. Originally, they were intended to be used as shields to protect our agents, but there were a couple of extenuating circumstances.”

Wanda furrowed her brow. “And that means…?”

“We created decoys to… essentially resurrect the dead just… not in their original bodies,” Fitz said. “Jemma, Daisy, and I were making a map of Vision, in case you decided you wanted one of him.”

Wanda felt her heart stop. She must have been dreaming, right?

“You would… bring him back?” she choked out over the lump in her throat. God, she did not want to hope, but it was so, so tempting. “What - what’s the catch?”

“There is no catch,” Simmons answered this time. “I swear on my cottage in Perthshire.”

“Why do you want to help me?” Wanda had done so many terrible things to so many people. Why would a government organization want to help her now?

“Because S.H.I.E.L.D believes in helping people, and that no one should be alone. But at the end of the day, this decision is up to you,” Daisy said. “As his next of kin, this decision is yours alone.”

She could have him back.

Wanda had not dared to hope for such a thing. But she could have him back. These people - a group that Clint and Natasha trusted - were giving her a second chance she wasn’t sure she deserved.

Still, she looked suspiciously at the scientists in front of her. “Would he be the same Vision I fell in love with?” she asked.

“We can replicate his personality and his appearance, yes. He would no longer be considered a synthezoid, however. He would be an android. We’ve also never created an LMD of a synthezoid, so we don’t know for sure if he’d still have his powers, but… otherwise, he would act and look just the same as you knew him,” Fitz confirmed. “He will have all of his memories of you as well.”

Wanda was shaking now, and her knees buckled. If Mack hadn’t been right next to her, she knew she would have fully collapsed to the black tiles below her.

“Do it,” she gasped, nodding once. “Please. Bring him back to me.”

“It will take a few days,” Mack said, helping to steady her. “You’re welcome to stay here if you don’t have a hotel or anything else.”

The dam broke, tears racing down her cheeks. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.” She rubbed her eyes. “Can I have a minute alone with him before you start?”

“Of course.”

The scientists and director stepped out of the room, the door clicking shut softly behind them.

She rubbed her eye against the sleeve of her sweater again, swallowing back a wave of nausea as she peeled the sheet back.

He looked as she remembered. That was good. Part of her had been worried that any government agency would dissect Vision, or worse - try to turn him on their side, but it seemed S.H.I.E.L.D wasn’t like the others.

She was so glad he’d ended up in their hands.

“I’m sorry there wasn’t any other way…” she whispered, hovering a shaking hand over where the Mind Stone should have been. “I can’t feel - ”

Wait.

Wanda paused, frozen over Vision’s form.

She felt something. It was faint, so very, very faint, but it was there.

It was him.

“Vision?” her voice cracked. “Vision, can you hear me?”

If he could, he didn’t respond, but that little flicker of feeling meant that… maybe this body could be saved.

“Director!” she called.

Mack was in the room in a second. “Wanda? What’s the matter?”

“I - I think Vision is still alive.” It was a sentence she didn’t think she would say after the battle with Thanos.

“Tremors! Fitzsimmons! We may be on a resuscitation job instead of an LMD job!”

The scientists rushed into the room, their eyes wide as they rushed to the computer and monitors.

“My God,” Simmons murmured, turning to Wanda. “Did you… happen to use your magic at all while you were alone?”

Wanda swallowed thickly. “I… yeah, a little bit. It’s something I used to do with him.”

“We registered a trace amount of energy when we brought him in, but we couldn’t place where it came from. Only that it was partially found in space. That same energy was picked up by our computer when you were in here. You were the one to originally - ”

“Yes, I was,” Wanda interrupted, not wanting the word spoken. “What does that mean?”

“It means Simmons and I can repair Vision’s body, and you can repair his mind,” Fitz concluded. “Some of the more… mechanical pieces of him began to deteriorate over the last five years. I can upgrade that, but we’ll need your energy to… bring him back online.”

“I - I can’t - that’s not how - ”

“Wanda,” Daisy said firmly, and Wanda turned to her with wide eyes. “I know how you feel. You don’t feel strong enough, or powerful enough, right?”

Wanda nodded a little.

“My sister thought the same. She has powers too - so do I. She was asked to do something she never thought possible with her gifts.”

“What’s that?”

“Bring me back to life.”

Wanda thought the breath was knocked out of her as she stared at the agent in front of her. “You - you died too? And - and you were brought back?”

Daisy nodded. “My sister and I are known as Inhumans. Kora has energy manipulation. She managed to manipulate my life energy after I was - literally - floating in space without any protection. You said you felt a flicker of Vision?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need to focus on that feeling and fight like hell to bring him back.”

Wanda took a deep breath, all of it overwhelming. She’d thought she would be coming in here to claim VIsion’s corpse and take him to be buried. Now here she was… potentially bringing him back. Small as it was, she knew she couldn’t turn it down, so she nodded.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

“Fitz and I will begin the repairs right away,” Simmons said, giving Wanda a kind smile. “You can wait in the hallway. We’ll let you know when we’re ready for your powers.”

“I’ll wait with her,” Daisy offered, leading her back out into the hallway.

“I’ll leave you all too it. Call me if there’s an emergency,” Mack said. “It was nice to meet you, Wanda.”

Wanda nodded, sitting on a bench with Daisy. Was this what it was like when someone was in a hospital waiting room, waiting for news about their loved one’s surgery? That must have been what this felt like.

There was a comfortable silence between her and Daisy, as Daisy quietly tapped on her phone and the muffled sounds of machinery whirred behind the lab doors.

“What was it like?” she choked out, wanting an escape from the sounds.

Daisy looked at her in surprise. “What?”

“Your… dying. What was it like?”

“Oh.” Daisy paused, slipping her phone into her pocket before she leaned back on the bench. “Well… we were fighting this guy named Malick. He had inhuman powers like my sister and I, and he managed to pin me against this… energy thing. We planned for this. For my to - to sacrifice myself. So I managed to grab him, look him right in the eye, and just let out the strongest attack I could. The last thing I remember was everything exploding around me… and then it went dark. Empty… until Kora brought me back.”

“Is that what Vision’s feeling now? Empty?” she whispered. “Has he felt this for five years?”

“It’s hard to say. But I know you shouldn’t dwell on it, Wanda. Just focus on him. On your future.”

“Westview…” she said softly, a sad smile on her face. “Vision bought a plot of land. We were supposed to build a house there. ‘To grow old in’.”

Daisy smiled. “I think that sounds sweet. Hold on to that. Focus on that when you’re doing your magic, or whatever it is.”

Wanda nodded, her hands shaking. “I can’t believe it’s real. Now that I actually have time to think - I was afraid I was going to be alone forever. The other Avengers went home to their families but I - I don’t have anyone. I thought I was coming in here to retrieve a corpse… and now I might be walking out of here with the man I love.”

“You will be. Fitz and Simmons are the smartest people I know. They will work until their fingers fall off to bring Vision back to you.”

“She’s right about that. They’re the ones who brought me back.” This voice was new, and Wanda jumped slightly as she turned to it.

“A.C! I didn’t know you were coming in today. How was Miami?” Daisy asked.

“Humid. Wasn’t so easy on my circuitry,” the man replied, glancing over at Wanda. “You must be Wanda Maximoff. I’m Phil Coulson.”

She blinked, rising to her feet. “Clint and Natasha told me you were dead.”

“I am. Well - my body is. I’m an LMD. Did they explain to you what your option was with Vision?” Coulson asked.

“They did but… I think we can bring him back, just as he is. Your associates are repairing his body now.”

Coulson’s eyes widened. “Oh - well, that’s surprising. But good. We weren’t sure, which is why S.H.I.E.L.D offered you an LMD of him.”

“It’s very appreciated, Agent Coulson.” Wanda picked at the hem of her sleeve. “Do they know you’re alive?”

“Who?”

“Clint, Thor or Bruce. They were part of the original Avengers, right? Do they know about your… new form?”

Coulson hesitated. “No. I was kept in the shadows, and then it’s been a little nuts the last five years.”

She pressed her lips together. “I think you should tell them. I mean, the rules are being bent all over the place now, right? They would be happy to know your consciousness is still alive. Clint especially. He - he told me he still has regrets over what happened with Loki.”

A look of guilt crossed Coulson’s face. “I see. I’ll contact them, then. Thank you for letting me know. Do you mind if I wait with you and Daisy?”

She shook her head. “Maybe you can tell me about what Clint and Natasha were like when they worked here.”

Coulson laughed. “Oh, I have a few stories about that.”

It was hours later before Simmons poked her head out of the lab. “You can come in now, Wanda.”

Vision was still purple and lifeless, but his skull looked good as new. She could see the reinforcements that had been made to the non-organic parts of his body too, and smiled in relief.

Now came the tricky part.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Fitz said, a tablet in his hand.

Wanda nodded, stepping up to VIsion. She placed her hand over his head where the stone should have been and focused on everything she loved about him. About the future they’d tried to build. About the future they would build, when he came back to her.

“I can feel you, Vision,” she whispered. “Please… come back.”

She watched as the energy in her hand suddenly turned yellow - the Mind Stone! - and poured into Vision’s skull. The color began to return to him, and finally, those blue eyes opened.

“Wanda?” he asked.

“Vision?”

He sat up, holding his head. “What happened? Where’s Thanos? Are we still in Wakanda?”

“Thanos is gone. We’re safe now. We’re at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters,” she explained.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. Yes, I recall stories about them.” He paused, data downloading in his mind. “Ah, yes, I see. And you took custody of my body because of my connection to the Avengers?”

“That’s correct. Agent Coulson here was one of the founding members of the Avengers initiative,” Daisy explained.

“And you died, but apparently returned as well. It is comforting to know I’m not the only person to return from death,” Vision said.

“Everything seems to be stable with you, Vision. How are you feeling?”

Vision hopped off the table, testing a few of his abilities quickly. “I feel brand new. Thank you Dr. Simmons.”

“Then I clear you for discharge,” Simmons smiled, holding out a card. “If you need anything, S.H.I.E.L.D will be at your call.”

Wanda leaned against Vision. “Thank you for being so kind… for doing all of this for me.”

“You’re welcome,” Daisy said. “Good luck in Westview.”

“I quite liked them,” Vision said as they got into her car. “Did you know Agent Coulson used to have hair?”

Wanda chuckled softly, switching the car on and pulling out onto the busy street. “It’s not hard to imagine. Human men go bald sometimes. I guess Coulson just got unlucky genes.”

“What do you suppose I would look like bald? As a human, I mean. I know I’m… quite bald in this form.” He patted his own head for emphasis.

“I don’t know. But I think we have all the time in the world to find out.”

Vision smiled. “Yes, we do. Westview awaits.”

They drove off into the sunset, and the promise of tomorrow.

#wandavision #agents of shield #wanda maximoff #vision #daisy johnson #leopold fitz #jemma simmons #alphonso mackenzie #phil coulson #fanfiction

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