Peter Maximoff X You - Blog Posts

Something tells me that Peter (QuickSilver) would love this (he’d steal it)

You can’t tell me he wouldn’t

do you have any headcanons about how peter and the reader bonded when she first came to xavier's school? will we get to see more of that? :)

okay but YES:

charles asks peter to show you around the school because you're both similar ages, jean is in classes all day, and although peter doesn't stay at the mansion, he knows it like the back of his hand already.

charles also thinks you BOTH need friends. he's literally matchmaking platonically.

things between you both are awkward as he shows you around. you're still settling in and peter doesn't know you yet, but you ask him where the nearest arcade is and that's when you find out you both hold a conversation really easily. peter has nothing else to do, so he shows you around town and you two even play a game or two at the arcade.

while spending time with him, you grow less tense. you actually smile for the first time in a while. you typically take a little while to open up to anyone, but peter's high energy fast tracks this. you're kind of terrified of how fast you're growing to like him, especially since you already find him attractive.

you eventually befriend scott, jean, kurt and jubilee too, but it's nothing in comparison to the friendship you have with peter. you seem very similar and very different all at once.

just as you think you understand something about peter, like how he seems to cover up any potential sadness with humour and never seems serious, he changes it up on you. he's confusing and it both irritates and fascinates you. example: he'll be funny with you one moment and then serious when you open up. jokes turn to 'oh, shit, i'm sorry' in a solemn tone. it's a quick back and forth of emotional states.

despite the fact that you often wonder if he's out of your league, you can't make yourself stop wondering whether he might be feeling the same things you are... like something is building between the both of you. jokes on you, because he doesn't wonder whether you're out of his league—he knows you are.

the two of you aren't usually the ones to spend every day hanging out with someone. peter usually spends his time alone in his basement (not out of choice), and you like to spend your time on your own (that is, in fact, a choice). even so, you seem to be hanging out with one another a lot.

he opens up to you and it makes you feel like he trusts you.

he's the first person you open up to about what happened with your father back in england. the accident. the reason you came here.

after that deep discussion, things between you are different. it's like there's a tension between you both, and it's something unsaid: you care about each other. a lot.

peter can't ever seem to keep still, and one day when he stretches out across the floor of your dorm, you follow him to the floor. you rest your head on his chest, your heart beating like mad, and he wraps an arm around you. you've never been held like that before. you're both silent as you wonder whether this is something 'just friends' do.

over the weeks that you spend in one another's presence, people at the mansion seems to pick up on the fact that there's something blossoming between you two. everyone seems to notice it but yourselves.

your first unofficial date that isn't a date is him sneaking you both into the movies. at the end, it's pouring down with rain, but you ask him not to speed you both home as rain is your favourite weather. you can feel the energy building in you as you both make your way back to peter's house.

by the time you get home you're both drenched and he gives you a spare t-shirt and shorts to wear. it's late and peter gives you the bed.

his mom finds you there in the morning when she comes down to do the laundry and gives peter a warning look; she thinks you two had sex. embarrassed, you leave soon after. but that night when peter smells you on his sheets, he knows he has to ask you out.

he asks various people for advice before he asks you, all with varying information. in the end, he decides an arcade date is best... right back where you started. dinner after is an option, but this would feel natural for the both of you.

you don't hesitate to respond when he asks you out, and you think you probably should've taken longer to say yes.

I really hope I’m not overwhelming you but I think it’s got a cute opportunity. “Can I do your hair?” with Peter?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: peter maximoff x reader 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓: “can i do your hair?” 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 940 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+, fluff, peter and reader are early to mid twenties, british reader 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: y/n is known by the mutant name “scribe” and is charles xavier’s niece.

Sometimes, you think it’d be easier if you were bald. Like Charles.

Your hair is a great source of irritation when it doesn’t go the way you plan. Truthfully, you know very little about hair: you know how to make sleeping in rollers somewhat bearable and you know how to Dutch braid it, but that’s about it. You thought it would be fun to try something new today, something glamorous like the models in the magazines, but it’s not going well at all. Is it the hairdryer? Is it the brush you’re using? Is it the way you’re twisting your hand? You don’t know, and it’s driving you insane.

“Bloody hell,” you grumble, one hand wrapped around the handle of the round brush while you position the hairdryer at the right spot again. “How hard is it to make a curl?”

Peter, laid back on your bed in his leathers and band tee, asks, “Why don’t you—”

The hairdryer whirrs to life again, a loud, obnoxious sound that’s getting on your nerves by now. You can’t hear him over the noise of it. “Huh?”

You squint at him across the room; all that lies between your full length mirror and your bed, pressed against the wall, is the trunk you brought with you to school. Peter has been watching you try to do this for a while now, your frustrations rising, and you’ve only got fifteen minutes left until you’re due to hang out with Jean, Scott, Kurt and Jubilee.

The speedster shakes his head dismissively. He turns to the side and watches you twist the brush in your hand, leave the hairdryer to heat it up, and then when you pull it away—

Limp. It’s flat and downright awful, and your face is going red at the sight of it.

Your fingers clench in irritation as you set the brush down. Peter’s laugh rings out across the room to you. It’s a sound that usually sparks amusement, but right now it sparks vexation.

“It’s not funny!” You fire back at him, frustration evident in your tone.

Peter, however, thinks otherwise. “It’s pretty funny. You’ll laugh about it in a few days’ time.”

You growl in frustration. “Not if I can’t do this bloody hairstyle,” you respond. You throw your hands in the air and bring one to tug at your hair, as if to prove your point. “I might say to hell with it and get a perm.”

Peter’s laugh is filled with amusement, louder than before, as he stands from the bed. “Wanda did that and she came out looking like a grandma. Wouldn’t recommend it.”

You jut your chin upwards defensively. “It’s in fashion right now. It’s the 80’s.”

“It definitely didn’t look in fashion on my sister. I teased her about it for weeks.”

You shake your head. You turn to look back at yourself in the mirror, sighing. “What would you recommend, huh? Hair Stylist Maximoff?”

Peter’s brows rise as he takes a few slow steps across the room towards you. “Can I do your hair?”

You frown at him. Your mother used to try to help you when you got like this, except she’d never be able to do it either and you’d just both end up frustrated. You turn back to him, suddenly feeling a little defeated, and sigh at your reflection in the mirror. “What do you know about hair?”

Peter appears behind you at superspeed and places his hands on your shoulders. “You think I go to the little old lady salon and walk in and ask for silver hair? Please. I do this crap myself.”

Peter reaches up to run his fingers through your hair, and you close your eyes at the feeling. His touch is comforting. Teasingly, you ask, “Do you curl it too?”

You open your eyes to see Peter shrug. “Nah,” he answers softly. His gaze follows his fingers as they rake gently through your hair. “But Wanda asks me to get the back for her sometimes.”

You raise your brows. “Really?”

Peter nods. “Dinner on me if I screw it up?”

Your lips quirk up in a small smile. “Deal.”

Peter grins at you, and then in a flash, he’s speeding around the room. You can’t see what he grabs, but you know the rough location of everything he might be grabbing—hairspray, the brush, the hairdryer…

And when he’s done, you’re choking from the amount of hairspray lingering around you. Genuinely choking. Your throat feels like it might give up from the fumes, but when you’ve finally stopped, when your eyes stop watering enough to see—

“Oh my god.”

You look good. Exactly like the models in the magazines. Your curls are voluminous, bouncy, and it compliments the natural makeup on your face almost as if you woke up looking like this. You can’t help but gape at the sight of yourself in the mirror, and you catch the sight of Peter’s grinning mouth as he watches the recognition flash in your eyes.

“Peter,” you breathe, “never mind the X-Men. You need to get a job in a salon.”

Peter laughs. “Personal stylist for the X-Men? I’ve got some good ideas for what I’d like to do to Scott.”

You let out a laugh, your fingers twisting through the ends of your hair. Oh, it’s perfect. “Personal stylist for me, at the very least.”

Peter grins, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek. “Glad you like it, Y/N.”

“Like it? I love it.”

“Good. Now can we please get going?” Peter begs, giving your shoulders a squeeze. “If I don’t get food soon I think I’ll combust.”

I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what exactly are Scribe’s powers? How did you come up with her name?

i absolutely don't mind! i love questions like this, and it's a valid one since her powers haven't been fully fleshed out yet. i hope you guys don't mind that the reader in my fics has a fleshed out backstory, personality and powers either.

a scribe is defined as follows:

a writer or journalist.

a public clerk or secretary, especially in ancient times.

a professional copyist of manuscripts and documents.

in verb form:

to write or inscribe.

to mark with a scriber.

scribe's name comes from her ability to change her body and abilities through writing. i'll list all her powers below:

atomic manipulation: scribe can change herself in any way she wants i.e give herself another mutant’s powers, but she has done this through writing for so long that she struggles to do it with a mere thought. if she does this for extended periods of time she won’t be able to use her energy powers. little spoiler for the future: when she becomes one of the x-men, hank will make her something to help with this in the same way that he made scott summers his glasses.

energy manipulation: she can lift things with her energy and can fire energy blasts. while you might think this is similar to wanda's powers, they're less ball-shaped and more raw in shape and form. her mind always knows how much force to use and how powerful to make these blasts. they scorch the skin on impact.

portals: she can open portals to other dimensions. all she needs to do is think of what and where she wants and she can summon a portal to it. smaller ones are easier; larger ones drain her power very quickly.

shielding: this power stems from charles xavier & her father since they're twins (i took this from the og movies where he magically has a brain-dead twin brother haha). nobody can hear her thoughts. she can extend this shield to a person or group of people i.e. the x-men she's fighting with, but doing this for other people drains her energy. if she truly focused then she could access telepathy, but that's not something she wants to do.

i hope that answered your question and if you have any more then please do ask and i'll be happy to answer!

Brown Eyes Unsure

Part 2 of ? of How series

Rating: Teen and Up

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,332

Summary: Maximoff is a stranger to this reality. What were your options, and could he be trusted?

Warnings: swearing, slight angst, over thinking by the reader

A/N: I just want to say thank you for all the support and new followers I got after the first chapter was posted. I really fucking appreciate that. This series is gonna take awhile, and I’m not the most consistent author. I’ll be the first to admit that. I am fully online this school year though so hopefully I’ll speed up my updating as finals aproach. Nothing speeds up productivity like procrastination :j

You were right. It was a very, very long day.

You pinched the bridge of your nose as Maximoff let out a belch and wiggled his shoulders back to lean against the wall. Agent Tareen’s upper lip twitched in irritation as she eyed the man child. Plates and cups were laid out on the floor around you.

You glanced to your right and smiled softly to see Agent Iyer starting to nod off. He was sitting awkwardly on a knocked over punching bag, his back slouched completely to keep him from falling over.

Iyer wanted a place away from prying eyes as well as enough room to sit and talk. Unfortunately the conference room was now occupied. So that led to where you four were now. An abandoned training room complete with an obstacle course and gym equipment. While you and your team had sat in a circle on the floor, laptops out, discussing possible places for Maximoff to reside; the man in question seemed to take a kick out of running around the obstacle course and making little games for himself.

The few times you had glanced up, he was standing atop a metal rotating tower and seeing how fast he could climb up and down it, while also programming the tower to shoot foam bullets at him.

You caught yourself smiling as he was hit once and he acted out a Shakespearen death scene with full dramatics.

After a couple of hours you had offered to get food for everyone, something that Agent Tareen jumped at the sound of. She always packed her own food, but she loved the Avengers Compound’s kitchen. Her aunt was a chef and she found the sounds of a bustling kitchen comforting. Well that’s what Iyer told you anyway.

Tareen looked far from the smiley face she usually adorned when going to the kitchen. Instead a scowl was present on her face as you both left the training room.

“He’s a real piece of work.” She said crossing her arms as you two strolled, which you both hoped was casually, down the corridor to the elevator. You tilted your head and nodded slowly.

“I guess. I don’t know, it seems to me he uses humor as a defense mechanism. And being essentially held hostage by a random government agency with three agents around him, dictating his life for the foreseeable future. I would also feel the need to protect myself.” You said lowly, not wanting anyone passing by to hear. Tareen hummed at that and the pair of you fell silent.

It really was kind of amazing that Maximoff trusted your team at all. He had nothing to go on really. You bit your lip as you came to a stop in front of an elevator. Agent Tareen turned to you, making you pause.

“Do you think we can trust him?” She asked, bringing an olive hand up to press the ‘up’ button.

Now that was a question. And one you honestly should have thought over earlier. If you looked at it objectively, there was a strange man with incredible powers, who also had the same name and said power of a superhero that was killed. Also the strange man appeared in a forest and has no idea how he got to this reality. The only thing you could trust was that he was from another reality. According to the lab data, his cells were just slightly off, plus how he talked and acted was very 90’s. But you couldn’t look at it objectively. That would mean that you had to ignore that face he made when you told him the point of this all, was sending him home. It was such intense relief, and then you remembered the way he sat next to you, sitting in a ball next to a stranger and agreeing to trust you and your team.

You weren’t an idiot. You were the founder of a very important sector of S.H.I.E.L.D., and you spent your entire career protecting people who gave you their blind trust. Blindly trusting someone...

Images of machinery and thundering water came to your mind and you shook it off.

That time it was different. You were a child. You were taken advantage of.

You weren’t a kid anymore, you were the one in charge. You could trust Maximoff, because he trusted you.

The elevator dinged open and you were thankful no one was inside. You stepped in, turned around, and crossed your arms, facing Tareen who’s expression was taut, awaiting your answer.

“Yes. We trust him. And if you don’t trust him, then trust me. He’s not a threat.” Your voice was hard and Tareen met your fierce gaze with one of her own. You stared at each other before she broke eye contact by stepping into the elevator.

“I trust you.” Was all she said and she pressed the button to the fourth floor. That was that then. Maximoff had her support.

That’s what led you to now, surrounded by the dishes of your dinner, strained necks, and tired eyes. You glanced to your right again and Iyer had his eyes shut, long legs planted solidly to keep him from doubling forward. His warm deep skin looked shiny from the offensive bright lights as he dozed. You took a mental note to make sure the team had a late start tomorrow.

In front of you, Tareen had her face creased in concentration as she read over something on her laptop. It was placed in front of her on the floor, and she was sitting with her legs criss crossed, left elbow digging into her knee as she propped her head up with her hand.

You glanced around for Maximoff, only to see him lying on his back, mouth open, dead asleep in the foam pit. You let out a breath of a laugh before your smile fell and you sighed. It must have been around six in the morning. So far, all you and your team had done was place Maximoff in New England.

It had been the obvious choice, seeing as, as soon as the technology was available to send Maximoff home, he was going. The only people with clearance to make such technology were S.H.I.E.L.D. and Mr. Stark. New York was out because that was a little too close to home. Iyer was voting for New Jersey while Tareen wanted Maine. You were still undecided.

You slowly lowered yourself to lying on your back, staring at the ceiling. The fluorescent white lights hummed with electricity and you closed your eyes against them. Your arms were spread out wide and you were thankful for the fact you were in the training room. The cold of the floor embraced you more than a scratchy carpet of a conference room.

You let out a huff as you tried to relive some of the stress knotting in your shoulders. Agent Iyer always made lists when he was stressed; something about seeing everything laid out neatly calmed him. It's never worked for you before, but it was worth a shot.

There were five possible threats concerning Peter Maximoff. You bit your lip and started at the least terrible, moving to the worse. One, S.H.I.E.L.D. is being controlled by Hydra, finds out about him, experiments on him, and either infiltrates a new reality or uses him as a weapon. Two, Maximoff is secretly evil and came to this reality to kill everyone for some evil agenda that he relivels in a monologue. Preferably with sunglasses on and an evil laugh. You think he’d like that.

You smirked, eyes still shut and focused on your task with a shake of your head.

Three, Mr. Stark is actually lying to your team and he wants to be the only person aware of Maximoff so he can conduct experiments on him in the name of discovery. Four, other agencies like S.W.O.R.D. find out about Maximoff, expose him to the public, then the U.S. Government and all its intelligence agencies have a pissing contest to see who can “have” Maximoff for their own twisted agenda. Five, Wanda Maximoff hears about Peter Maximoff, hunts you, Agent Tareen, and Agent Iyer down, and personally rips your organs from your bodies.

You involuntarily shuddered and bolted to sit up. Wanda Maximoff was the most powerful Avenger hands down. You did not want to be on the receiving end of her wrath and grief.

Tareen kicked your foot as you sat awkwardly in front of her.

“We should call it soon. I’m gonna pray, make sure Iyer doesn’t even think about touching my laptop.” She said eying the man to you right. You glanced over, assessing his hunched over form: still sleeping. You raised an eyebrow at her suspicion and shrugged. Iyer did have a tendency to use whatever was available when he had an idea. No one knew when exactly inspiration would strike him. You watched her head out the door closest to the bathroom, before slowly turning to look at Maximoff.

You had to wake him to tell him your team was heading home. You sighed at the task and grumbled curses at Tareen and Iyer for being busy and asleep. Maximoff was preferable when he was unconscious, but someone had to take one for the team and wake him up. Guess that person was you then.

Pushing up from the ground, you walked over to him, trying to seem less dead and more authoritative. After all, you were technically in charge of him.

You trudged up the blue ramp to the foam pit, and peered down at Maximoff. He twitched slightly in his sleep. He was clutching his jacket close to his chest, and you smiled softly at him. He looked much younger when he was asleep, his teenage personality seemed to fit better here. Who was he?

You squinted your eyes as an idea came over you. You suppressed a smirk as you inched closer to the edge of the foam pit. You reached down slowly and grabbed a foam cube with your hand. You let out a breath of air as you aimed it and with no further thought, you pelted his stomach with the cube.

He jumped and tackled you to the ground, Maximoff pinning you down with a fearful expression on his face. You gasped as his long blonde and silver hair created a curtain over his face. His brown eyes were wide and his pupils were blown. He painted quietly and you felt the warm breath on your own mouth. You both stared at each other in shock for a beat before he clambered off of you.

“Oh shit, sorry I-,” he fumbled over his words as he scurried away from you, almost falling into the foam pit again. He crawled backwards, still sitting and you slowly sat up. You blinked and stared at him. He didn’t use his powers on you and he didn’t even realise. His fearful expression echoed in your mind as he continued to stutter out an apology.

What had happened to Maximoff in his reality? Why was his first instinct to fight? He could just escape in the blink of an eye. But he didn’t. He didn’t expose his powers, instead he attacked.

You felt a pang of sympathy and untensed your shoulders. And for the first time in your life, you wanted to show someone. To show that you could at least understand. You didn’t know what his reality was like. You didn’t know how he got those powers or how old he was. But you fucking knew what that was like.

You felt the back of your throat burn and your nose twitched. You didn’t expect to choke down a sob. You thought you were past all this and here this man comes and makes you feel as if you're cowering against your desk. Staring at a cup of water in fear.

Maximoff watched you, his hands raised as he kept talking. Just a non ending stream of excuses.

You surprised the both of you when you put your palm out and stood up. Maximoff watched you, still on the floor. His hair was still covering his face, and slowly put his hand in yours.

You gripped his hand tightly and heaved him up. You stared at each other, your hands clasped, your bodies so close.

How? How did you get here? How did you get these powers? How were you so okay? Your thoughts, directed at him, screamed as you stared.

You forced yourself to still and you took a deep breath through your nose and raised your eyebrows with intent. Maximoff broke eye contact, brown eyes unsure. You breathed again and he copied you this time. Deep breathes filled the sound around you two.

“We’re going to go home soon. I can show you where you’ll sleep?” You offered and gently pulled your hand away. That seemed to shake Maximoff out of his daze and a goofy grin came over his face.

He gave a fast karate chop which startled you. “I am so tired. Let’s go Boss.” He cheered and appeared next to Iyer happily.

Your heart ached as you watched him poke the sleeping man. Maximoff didn’t trust anyone here, he didn’t know this place, didn’t know you people, and he was terrified. You felt your hands twitch and your eyes widened in horror as the water bottle by Iyer’s leg toppled over. You hastily shoved your hands deep into your pockets. You watched Maximoff jump happily as he antagonized Iyer, blue haze filling the space as he ran around. His powers on beautiful display, despite his feelings. You looked at him and then back at the water bottle.

You let out a puff of air as you ever so slowly, brought your hands out of your pockets.

Taglist: @daem-o-nium @infinitytitans @loveyou3000-mcu @haileyybird @amourtentiaa

Something Had Happened

Part 1 of ? of How series

Rating: Teen and up

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,700

Summary: As the person in charge of hiding and rehubilitating superheroes, you never expected to be tasked with hiding someone from another reality

Warnings: swearing, bad understanding of how the U.S. Marshal Service works, Tony is still alive :(

A/N: This was inspired by this post, wandavison, and my bullshit understanding of the X-men and the multiverse. This is set a year and a half after Civil War. And 6 months before the events of Infinity War. This fic spans from that time period all the way to WandaVision. So get ready for a slow burn fix-it fic. Because the dick joke was offensive.

Sunlight streamed in from the gaps of your curtains. You sat on the floor, back against your desk as you watched the dust particles swirl around, never settling on your cluttered room. Your head had never felt heavier, but you slowly turned it to stare at the cup of water sitting next to you.

You took a shaky breath and brought your hand up slowly. With a flick of your wrist a perfect circle of water rose up from the cup. You felt tears gathering in your eyes and you had to squeeze them shut to keep from completely breaking down. You heard the water plop back down into the cup as your concentration broke.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You whispered, bringing your hands to yank at the roots in your hair. You tucked your head into your chest and drew your knees up, effectively turning yourself into a ball. You felt the tears finally roll down your face and you cursed again knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop. Your throat hurt from the sob you choked down and you tore your hand away from your hair and covered your mouth, trying to keep your sobs hidden. They wracked through your body and you pressed your forehead more firmly into your knees.

This couldn’t be happening. You couldn’t have powers. Half moon crescents from your nails digging into your cheek, throbbed as you pulled your hand away from your mouth.

In a pathetic fury you lunged for the cup of water and threw it at the wall. It shattered against a poster and the water and glass rained down on your floor.

You sniffled as you stared at the mess you made. Pity and misery washed over you again and you pressed your back, back to your desk.

-Ten Years Later-

You felt your blood hum as you strolled across the little bridge over the man made pond. You smirked as your fingers gave a little twitch, longing to be able to play among the water.

A large rectangular building lay ahead of you and you strode ahead with confidence. Your shoes crunched against the gravel courtyard. The Avengers Compound loomed impressively in front of you. It had been a year and a half since the “Civil War” happened and the compound hadn’t felt the same since. With people like Captain Rodgers, Agent Barton, Dr. Banner, and Thor, on the run or at their homes, nothing felt quite right.

Of course you knew where Agent Barton was, that was your job after all. You worked closely with S.H.I.E.L.D from the United States Marshal Service to utilize the operation, Witness Security Program, or more commonly called, The Federal Witness Protection Program. You were the sole person in charge of the link between the superheroes and the U.S. Department of Justice.

You shifted your briefcase from your right hand to your left and placed your palm on the door scanner. You bounced on the balls of your feet awkwardly as the tech read your prints. You leaned forward to do the same to your eye before the door buzzed open with a welcoming noise.

You strolled into the building with your head high, not wanting to look out of place. Not today. It wasn’t often that you visited the Avengers Compound, but something had happened.

You didn’t know exactly what it was, but your team had all been called in under the instruction of Mr. Stark and Director Mace.

You lamented losing not only Director Fury but Director Coulson, but you shook your head to clear the thought’s away. There were a lot of events to the two of them “leaving” the way they did.

You breezed down the corridors of the compound, wondering idly if your team had showed up yet. Agent Iyer definitely was, there was no doubt about it.

There were two members of your team, excluding you. Agent Iyer and Agent Tareen. You three occupied a very small part of the S.H.I.E.L.D. operations, called H.O.M.E., but the work you three did was top secret. Only the three of you, Director Mace, and the client you were assisting, knew what you did. And the Avengers of course. Just so they knew they had options. You wished more of them would come for help.

You along with Agents Tareen and Iyer worked at the U.S. Marshal Service helping normal people into the witness program. But you three were also available at the drop of a hat to work with S.H.I.E.L.D. and get their heroes in a safe home or witnesses away from supervillains.

It was like your normal job, just a little more extreme.

You rounded a corner and let out a huff once you saw both Agent Tareen and Agent Iyer sitting in the conference room. You checked your watch.

You were twenty minutes early.

Jackasses.

You eyed them through the window for a second, feeling nothing but pride for your team. Agent Tareen was wearing a beige hijab that was intricately wrapped on her head. A power suit adjourning her body. A comfy looking undershirt covered any skin that may be exposed and she looked incredibly bored sitting there. You smiled at her and looked over at Agent Iyer. His dark hair and dark beard matched his suit perfectly. You raised your eyebrow at the vest sitting underneath his jacket, but you weren’t surprised. Iyer would wear a three piece suit to meet with the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. You smiled at your smartly dressed associates and readjusted your grip on your briefcase.

You put on a ludicrous smile and shoved open the door. It banged open and you were surprised to see Mr. Stark standing there with them. You hadn’t noticed him from the window by the door.

“Agents. Mr. Stark.” You greeted, making your smile seem more charming. Mr. Stark looked up and nodded at you. Agent Tareen shot you a playful glare and you repressed the urge to stick your tongue out at her. You eyed a bowl of peanuts that sat in front of you before you quickly snatched a few and popped them into your mouth.

“Agent Y/L/N I presume. Right, now that we’re all here I’ll start,” Mr. Stark said and clapped his hands. He pulled out his phone and with a few taps holograms burst from it. He tapped around them, you tried to follow what he was even looking at, but it just looked like blue lights to you.

“Here we go, the wonder boy.” He said, dragging a specific picture on his phone to display onto the TV sitting across from you three. You slowly sink into a chair, placing your briefcase down quietly. You wheeled in next to Agent Iyer and looked up with morbid interest.

You really hoped it wasn’t a child.

Instead pictures of a man maybe a little younger than you flood the screen. He had blonde and silver hair, a silver jacket, goggles on his head, and headphones around his neck. He looked peaceful as he laid on the forest floor. You swallowed, not wanting to see a dead body this early in the morning.

Agent Tareen leaned forward in her chair and narrowed her eyes, studying the images carefully.

“A couple of kids found him. They were playing in the woods when they saw a man lying on the ground. They thought he was dead and their parents called 911. Local police and EMTs discovered he was indeed alive. Except he then moved away from them.” You furrowed your eyebrows and nodded along to what Mr. Stark was saying. This was weird right? What did this all mean? Did the kids or their parents need to go into hiding? Why was Mr. Stark the one relaying the information and not your usual boss at the Marshal Service?

“And how is this a concern to us?” Agent Iyer spoke up, resting his chin into his hand. Mr. Stark seemed to light up and leaned forward and popped one of the peanuts into his mouth.

“That’s the thing. He moved three miles away in half a second. Speedy got super speed.” You snapped your attention to the TV screen in astonishment.

“So you found a hero, is that it?” Agent Tareen said, looking almost bored at this briefing.

“No, it gets worse.” Mr. Stark said and clicked on his phone again. He swiped his finger across it and pictures of lab data swirled across the screen.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. did some initial testing on him at the site and apparently he isn’t from our reality. He’s from a different form of Earth. Says his name is ‘Peter Maximoff’ and he’s a member of something called the “X-Men”.” Stark said using air quotations on the word.

“A Maximoff with superspeed. No shit.” You echoed and fell back in your chair. Suddenly feeling like you couldn’t breathe. Mr. Stark grinned with his mouth full and then clicked on his phone again. A side by side of Pietro Maximoff and this Peter Maximoff appeared and you raised an eyebrow. They didn’t look anything alike except for maybe the blonde hair.

“So here’s the thing, Mace doesn’t actually know about any of this. The only people that know about this are me, you three, and a team of doctors. S.H.I.E.L.D doesn’t,” he paused and put a hand to his chest. “Pardon my French, know shit and they didn’t do any tests. I did.”

You glanced nervously at Agent Tareen and Agent Iyer. You didn’t want to be involved in any schemes with Mr. Stark. Especially not after the Sokovia accords and the “Civil War”.

Mr. Stark watched as the three of you looked unamused and apprehensive. He sighed and sat at the head of the table, wheeling his chair in close. “Listen, I don't even know if Director Mace is actually in charge. I don’t know where Director Colson is. I don’t know if S.H.I.E.L.D is going to fall to Hydra again. I don’t know if someone’s going to come looking for this Peter guy and be more powerful than anyone we’ve ever seen. I don’t know who to trust here. And to be honest I don’t want anyone experimenting on someone from a different reality. This is the kind of thing we weren’t even aware existed until now. We don’t know what will happen. So for the time being, I’d like you to keep this man safe somewhere that isn’t a jail cell or an experiment lab.” Mr. Stark wheeled his chair closer and turned to look at you now.

“I understand your line of work is keeping superheroes safe and away from super villains or otherwise threats.” He said, raising his eyebrows. “So until we understand more about the multiverse or whatever, keep him safe and hidden”

And with that Mr. Stark wheeled far enough away from the table to stand, tapped on his phone again, and left the two pictures of Peter and Pietro staring at you three. He gave you one last look and left the room with the pictures staring at you.

The briefing room was dead silent before Agent. Iyer put his head in his hands.

“Fuck.” He said and you and Agent Tareen cracked a smile.

Fuck indeed.

“Someone’s gotta tell Ms. Wanda Maximoff,” Agent Tareen spoke up, biting her bottom lip. Agent Iyer nodded and miserably raised his head. He brought his hand up to rub at his forehead. You leaned back in your chair and sighed.

“I know that’s probably the best thing to do. But this is not her twin brother. This is a random person who happens to share her last name and brother's super power. Do you all think that hunting her down and telling her this would honestly be a good idea? To give her such intense false hope before she sees a stranger who has her brother’s name and powers? You don’t think that would be an insult to her twin and only family member since she was a kid?” You ended your statement by gesturing to the TV displaying the pictures of Peter Maximoff and Pietro Maximoff. Agent Iyer sighed as you did so.

You had made your point.

“So we keep it from her? Is that what we’re honestly planning on doing?” Agent Tareen sneered leaning forward in her chair. Her beige hijab shifting around her shoulders at her sudden movement. You turned your gaze to your friend and sighed.

“No I’m not saying we never tell her. When she comes out of hiding, yes I think we should. But now, when we haven’t even met him? That is not a good time.” You stared at Agent Tareen with pleading eyes. You were technically their boss, but the three of you were a team and you did not want to make a decision without all of you on board.

Agent Tareen sighed and looked away from you.

“Fine. But you will be the one to tell her.”

You nodded at that. That seemed perfectly fair.

You all adjusted your chairs to look at the screen. There was a file folder on the briefing table and you reached for it. You raised an eyebrow as you skimmed the pages.

“Apparently Peter Maximoff is in the building.” You muttered looking up to your team. Iyer raised an eyebrow while Tareen suppressed a smirk. You glanced between the two of them before the three of you burst out of the conference room.

“Where is he?” Iyer said, tucking a long black strand of hair behind his ear. You hastily opened the file.

“He’s in the west wing. Room W17.” You said closing and hugging the file to your chest. Tareen nodded and took off speed walking in the proper direction. You shrugged at Iyer and took off after her.

It wasn’t long before you three skidded to a stop. To your surprise it was a very large room without any windows. The only way to see the man was to go in. Tareen took a step back and put her hand out to stop Iyer.

“Well boss, warm him up for us. Don’t want to freak him out with an immediate power imbalance.” She said smartly, giving you a mock salute. You handed Iyer the file, repressed the urge to huff like a child, and turned to the door again.

You took a deep breath, showed your clearance to the door, and opened it.

Well. This wasn’t what you were expecting. Not even a little.

Mr. Maximoff was lounging back on a bean bag with a Nintendo Switch in his hands. He didn’t even glance up at you as he blindly reached down to his side and brought a Coke up to slurp through the straw.

You looked at him awkwardly for a minute or two before he finally glanced up.

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N. Gotta be honest, didn't expect a U.S. Marshal. I don’t even know what that is. You in the military? Cause I don’t really like em, sorry.” He said, cocking his head to the side.

You blinked a few times and looked at him helplessly.

“Um, what?” You floundered before it clicked that Mr. Stark must have told him you were coming. You cleared your throat and crossed your arms.

“Yes I am from the Marshal Service. As Mr. Stark must have said. My name is Agent Y/L/N. I am in charge of the H.O.M.E. sector of S.H.I.E.L.D.” He cut you off by suddenly leaning against the door behind you. You whipped around and stared at him. Eyes wide, not expecting a display of his power so soon.

“Nah I read your ID and then went through your wallet. Twenty bucks is kinda embarrassing. What does H.O.M.E. stand for?” He said leaning into your personal space. You narrowed your eyes as his nose was only an inch away from yours. You were friends with Agent Tareen for fuckssake, you could handle a game of chicken.

You tilted your chin up and looked him in the eyes. They were a deep brown that seemed almost black. It didn’t add to his slightly creepy atmosphere and like he could read your thoughts, his mouth twitched in a smile before he leaned back against the door.

“The Heroes Obscure Maneuver Extension.” You recited making Maximoff furrow his eyebrows. He crossed his arms and stared at you with an incredulous expression.

“That barely makes sense-.” You cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“This doesn’t matter. Mr. Maximoff-,” this time it was his turn to cut you off. He turned his head lazily to the side and frowned slightly.

“Call me Peter.” You stared briefly at the pronounced tendons in his neck before realising what was happening and taking a step back.

“Mr. Maximoff,” you stressed, staring at him intently. He blew some air out of his mouth in a childish horse impression. “It is my understanding you come from a different Earth. I regret to inform you that our faction of government isn’t exactly the most secure at the moment. If anyone finds out where you come from there will be an uproar, and you will be in danger. Mr. Stark has trusted my team to keep you safe until we understand more about the Multiverse to send you home.” You recited thinking back to the first sentence of his file. Objective: Get Maximoff home.

He seemed to ponder this before you blinked and he was missing from in front of you. You sighed and spun around trying to find him in the larger room. The white lights seemed too bright as the only thing really in this room was you two, and the stupid beanbag. You squint your eyes to see him holding the file that you had previously trusted to Agent Iyer.

He sat on the floor comfortably and thumbed through it. Humming every once in a while. You decided to sit down too. Just letting him read the file. It didn’t hold any groundbreaking information, just his blood work and the basic data Mr. Stark and his doctors knew about him.

You stretched out your legs and leaned against the wall maybe five feet from where he was sitting. After he finished looking at the entire thing he placed it down and then appeared sitting next to you. You were starting to get used to the way he could move faster than you could realise. You suppressed a smile.

You turned your head to you right to see him sitting with his knees drawn up.

“Alright Agent Y/L/N, whatever you gotta do. I gotta be honest this version of Earth ain’t so bad. You got cool games,” he gestured to the abandoned Switch next to the bean bag. “I’ll stick around for a while.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and smiled warmly at him. He seemed slightly taken aback.

“Hey don’t go all soft on me, I’m just here for the free house you’re gonna give me. My parents' basement kinda blows.” You raised your eyebrows at him and let out a little laugh.

“You’re lucky I don’t send you to a tiny apartment. Sonic all contained in a cage.” You mused and pushed off the floor to stand. He wrinkled his nose and looked up.

“Don’t quote Sega to me. They ripped off my power. Was a whole lawsuit in my reality.” He explained, his eyebrows raised and a mock serious expression in his face. You arched an eyebrow as he grinned. You didn’t believe him for a second. You glanced at the door again and gestured to the file.

“You wanna meet my team now? We have a lot of work to do.” You asked, making him purse his lips.

“If that’s what the boss lady says.” He shrugged, and he popped up to stand next to you, the file clutched in his hand. You narrowed your eyes at him in a mocking glare and smoothed down your pants.

You gestured to the door and he strolled forward happily. Iyer and Tareen’s heads snapped up as you both exited the room.

“Maximoff, this is Agent Iyer and Agent Tareen, please don’t use your powers.” You said scrubbing your hand through your hair. Maximoff bobbed his head a few times, strikingly resembling a horse.

The four of you decided that leaving the compound was probably a bad idea. The only people in here were Avengers and a few others, S.H.I.E.L.D. had their own building. Hopefully no one would care if two women and two men walked around. You eyed Maximoff’s white sweater and grey sweatpants.

It’ll probably be fine. People actually lived here. Hopefully no one would notice.

“Uh hey do you happen to know where they put my stuff?” Your thoughts were interrupted when Maximoff leaned in close to your ear and whispered. Your eyes widened and you turned your head quickly to stare at him. Agents Iyer and Tereen walked slightly ahead of you. Their own voices quiet as you four strolled through the building.

“Yeah, we can stop by. They’re probably with Agent Haib, she’s a sucker for free shit.” You murmured, leaning closer for Maximoff to hear you.

“Mhm and we’re is she?” He asked tapping a finger to his mouth. You paused for a moment to think.

“Second floor east wing.”

He groaned and in a second was standing next to you with his headphones on his silver jacket and goggles.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I told you not to use your powers,” he grinned cheekily and popped the collar. “That’s the one rule, jackass.” He winked at you and tugged the headphones on cutting you off.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. This was going to be a long, long day.