Pietro Maximoff - Blog Posts

Boyfriend

Pietro Maximoff x Reader

You’re leaning against the bar, nursing a glass of something far too sweet, trying to blend into the crowd that pulses around you. The bass of the music vibrates through your chest, but it’s not the rhythm making your pulse race. It’s him. Pietro Maximoff.

He’s across the room, laughing, tossing his silver hair back as if the spotlight should follow him. It always does, in a way. There’s something magnetic about him, something that pulls you in even when you tell yourself you’ve had enough of his games.

You’ve told yourself a thousand times that this isn’t anything. Just two people who can’t seem to stay away from each other. He’s not your boyfriend. You’re not his girlfriend. And yet, the way his eyes keep darting to you, sharp and possessive, says otherwise.

You don’t want to admit that it bothers you, but it does. The girl he’s talking to is tall, leaning in too close, her hand brushing his arm. You watch as his grin falters for a fraction of a second, his gaze finding yours.

And just like that, he’s gone. A blur of silver and blue as he darts through the crowd, leaving the girl startled and blinking at the empty space he’s left behind.

“Jealous?” he says, suddenly at your side, the teasing lilt in his voice making your stomach flip.

“Of what?” you ask, turning your head away from him, pretending not to care.

He leans in, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your ear. “You tell me.”

You hate that he’s right. That you do care. That the idea of him with anyone else makes something twist in your chest. But you’re not going to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Maximoff,” you say, setting your glass down with a little more force than necessary.

He laughs, low and rich, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “Right. Because you were just standing there, staring at me for no reason.”

Your jaw tightens. “Maybe I was staring at her.”

He blinks, caught off guard for a split second, before the smirk returns. “Sure, detka. Keep telling yourself that.”

You roll your eyes, but he’s too close now, his hand brushing against yours, and suddenly the room feels too small, the music too loud.

“You don’t want me to see anyone else,” he says, softer this time, the teasing gone from his voice. “And I don’t want you to see anyone either. So why are we pretending?”

Your heart skips a beat, and you hate how easily he does this to you—how easily he gets under your skin, how easily he makes you want things you swore you didn’t need.

“Because it’s complicated,” you say, your voice barely audible over the music.

“Doesn’t have to be,” he says, and then his hand is on your cheek, tilting your face toward him.

You could pull away. You should pull away. But instead, you let him close the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a way that’s both familiar and electric.

And for the first time, you wonder if maybe he’s right. Maybe it doesn’t have to be complicated at all.

Can you write something for Pietro Maximoff?

i CANNOT believe it's been SO long since i last wrote or answered anything and im genuinely sorry. ive been kinda stressed with school and writers block and just life in general tbh💀 ill make it up to you guys soon with something for this since I'm on break I PROMISE. Also new pfp and header?!?😨 HAPPY HOLIDAYS😋❤

↫彡🂡"My Girl can Wear Whatever"🂡彡↬

↫Peter Maximoff↬

You were just trying to get a snack. That was it. But the moment you stepped into the kitchen, Peter nearly dropped his Twinkie.

"Whoa—" His silver brows shot up as his eyes scanned your outfit. Not in a gross way, but in a "Do I need to start running?" way.

You raised a brow. "Problem?"

Peter shook his head way too fast. "Nope! No problems here. You can wear whatever you want, babe."

Jubilee, sitting at the counter, smirked. "Really? You don’t care?"

Peter scoffed, tossing an arm around your shoulders. "Pfft. Why would I? My girl can wear whatever she wants..." He hesitated, glancing at you and then lowering his voice. "...'cause I'm scared of her."

You narrowed your eyes. "What was that last part?"

"Nothing!" He grinned nervously, stepping back. "You look amazing! Stunning! Fantastic! A completely independent person with great fashion sense! I love that for you!"

Jubilee cackled. "Dude, you are terrified of her."

"Well, yeah," Peter said without shame. "Like, you think I'm about to tell her no? You think I got a death wish? Nah, I value my life, I like my face. I’d like to keep it in one piece."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a granola bar from the pantry. "Good answer, Maximoff."

Peter sighed in relief. You were scary, but hey, at least you were his scary.

彡Logan彡

Logan had been minding his business at the bar when you walked in, dressed in something that made half the room do a double take.

He noticed. Oh, he definitely noticed. But instead of reacting like some jealous, overprotective boyfriend, he just sipped his whiskey.

It was not until some guy at the pool table let his eyes linger a second too long that Logan made a noise in the back of his throat—a low, rumbling ahem that sent a very clear message.

The guy turned, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

Logan smirked, tapping a single claw against his glass. "Nothin'. Just wonderin' if you're stupid or just feelin' lucky tonight."

The guy scoffed. "Relax, old man, it's just a look."

"Mm. See, I ain’t too worried ‘bout what she wears." Logan tilted his head, eyes sharp. "She can wear whatever she wants… ‘cause I can fight." He flashed his Adamantium claws.

The guy raised his hands and backed off real quick. Logan just chuckled, downing the rest of his drink.

You leaned against the bar beside him. "You always gotta scare people?"

He shrugged. "Ain’t my fault they spook easy."

You smirked. "You are such a show-off."

Logan just grunted, but the way he slid a possessive arm around your waist told you everything you needed to know.

🂡Remy LeBeau🂡

Remy was kicked back on the mansion's couch, long legs stretched out, flipping a poker chip between his fingers. He had seen you walk in, noticed the way heads turned, but unlike the others, he did not bat an eye.

Jubilee, being Jubilee, could not help but stir the pot. "Remy, you just gonna let her walk around like that?"

Remy did not even look up from his poker chip. "Remy think his chérie can wear whatever she want," he said lazily.

"Yeah?" Jubilee smirked. "You that confident?"

He flicked the chip up, caught it between two fingers, and finally smirked. "Mm-hmm. ‘Cause she's a houe, and I knew that before we started dating."

Gasps. Laughter. Even Logan huffed out an amused breath from the other side of the room.

Your eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

Remy grinned, finally looking at you. "What? You know it’s true, chérie. I fell for you ‘cause you a heartbreaker. A flirt. A menace." He tilted his head, voice dropping to a lazy drawl. "And yet, here we are."

You crossed your arms. "That does not make it better, you know."

"But it is true, non?" He flashed that dangerous, charming grin. "An’ I do not mind one bit."

You rolled your eyes, but you could not stop the small smirk tugging at your lips. Damn Cajun and his smooth talk.

Jubilee snorted. "I hate that he actually got away with that."

Remy just winked.

Hope you all enjoyed!! Love you all, kits! (houe means hoe in French. Idk what else to put there T ' T)

Titles

Quicksilver-  ↫ ↬

Wolverine- 彡 彡

Scott Summers- 💥 💥

Gambit- 🂡

Kurt- 🌒 🌘

Hank- 🧪 🥼

Charles- 𖡎 🧠

Magneto- 🔗🧲

↫𝒞𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈↬

Synopsis; After a particularly rough mission, you are welcomed by your favorite speedster and his warmth.

Warnings; none! <3

The mission had been an absolute disaster—or at least that’s how it felt. Every step back into the X-Mansion was like dragging lead weights, and your entire body screamed for rest. You had enough energy to kick off your boots but not enough to make it to your room. Instead, you flopped onto the couch in the common room, burying your face into a throw pillow with a muffled groan.

The familiar whoosh of displaced air and the sound of a chip bag crinkling were your only warning before Peter Maximoff appeared, standing over you like some kind of smug vending machine mascot.

“Well, well, look who’s all tuckered out,” he teased, dropping onto the couch beside you.

You didn’t bother lifting your head. “Go away, Peter.”

“Nah,” he said, already popping a chip into his mouth. “This is way more entertaining. Plus, I brought snacks. You should be thanking me.”

“I can’t even move,” you muttered, your voice muffled by the pillow.

Peter snorted, tossing the bag of chips onto the coffee table. “Then it’s a good thing I’m here. Move over.”

You turned your head just enough to squint at him. “What?”

“Scoot,” he repeated, nudging your shoulder. “You look like you need some of my patented Peter Maximoff TLC. And by that, I mean cuddles.”

“Since when do you cuddle anyone?”

“Since now,” he said with a grin. “Come on, don’t make me beg. It’s undignified.”

With a dramatic sigh, you shifted over slightly, allowing him to wedge himself beside you. He wasted no time draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest, tugging the blanket from the back of the couch to cover both of you.

“There. Cozy, right?” he said, leaning back and resting his head against the couch.

You let out a small laugh despite yourself. “This is weirdly nice.”

“‘Weirdly nice’ is my middle name,” Peter quipped, his hand coming up to trace absentminded circles on your arm.

For a guy who couldn’t sit still for more than five seconds, Peter had a surprisingly calming presence. The tension in your shoulders started to melt away, and you found yourself sinking deeper into the cushions.

“Thanks, Pete,” you murmured, your voice soft.

He looked down at you, his usual smirk replaced by something gentler. “Hey, you did good out there. Don’t let your brain tell you otherwise, okay?”

You gave a small nod, your eyes growing heavy.

“Go ahead and sleep,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “I’ll stick around, just in case you need me.”

The last thing you heard before drifting off was the sound of him quietly humming some old 80s song, the warmth of his arm around you lulling you into peace.

Secret Hideout, Secret Kiss

Synopsis: You discover a hidden spot in the mansion where Quicksilver goes to think. He shows it to you, and as you share secrets, the tension builds, leading to a soft, stolen kiss.

Warnings: Maybe some cursing, besides that, just fluff! ☁️🩷

You wandered through the surprisingly quiet halls of the X-Mansion, trying to find something to do on this slow day. You were about to walk past a small hallway but stopped, seeing a light under a door. Peter's door. It's not unusual for him to be up at this time, but something was off. You pressed your ear to the door, hearing some light curses and shuffling.

"Peter?" You knocked on the door, it creaking open. You saw Peter half-way out of his window with the all-too familiar silver jacket basically glowing in the moonlight. "Hey, baby- What do you need?" Peter cocked a smile on his face, now sitting on his windowsill. "What are you doing? Are you trying to kill yourself or something?" You walked in and shut the door, crossing your arms. "Just uh- looking at the moon. Mhm. Yep." Peter didn't even believe his own lie. How could he lie when you were standing right in front of him in your cute pajamas and the sleepy look on your face. "Mhm. Tell me the truth, Peter." He sighed and stood up, taking your hand. "Why use words when I can show you?" You were about to respond before he held the back of your head and speed through the house.

Before you knew it, you were outside.

"Peter, what are you-" He sped you into a small clubhouse. It was a cozy room filled with music players and dirty clothes. "I'd hope no one would find this place, but since I'm showing it to you, you're not finding it." Peter laid down into the beanbag chair, you sitting in the small chair in front of him. "Why keep this place hidden? Too small for anyone else?" You smiled, leaning back a bit. "That and I come here to be alone sometimes. I like having a big-mutant family and all but... It's a bit much with everyone. Sometimes a guy just needs-"

"A place too think."

"Mm... Yeah. You get it?" Peter cocked his neck to the side, his silver hair moving and settling into place. Damn, why did it take you this long to realize he was cute? Well- You've had thoughts before. But never so... vivid. "Yeah, sometimes it's a bit much. The talking, the fighting, the crowed hallways. Why do you think my headphones are basically attached to me?"

You chuckled, the tension easing as you exchanged glances, both of you sharing that unspoken understanding. Peter’s presence was oddly comforting in this hidden sanctuary, a stark contrast to the chaos of the mansion.

“Right?” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s nice to have a little escape now and then. Like our own little secret.” He leaned forward slightly, eyes sparkling with mischief. “And now you’re in on it.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “I guess that makes me special, huh?”

“Special indeed,” he said, his tone shifting to something softer. The playful air around him faded, replaced by a sincerity that made your heart race. “I don’t show this place to just anyone.”

The moment hung between you like a delicate thread, pulling you closer together. You watched as he shifted in the beanbag, looking slightly vulnerable but still that charming, cocky guy you knew. “So, what else do you do in your secret hideout?” you asked, trying to keep the mood light, even as the tension crackled in the air.

“Sometimes I think about life, or I just play music and pretend I’m a rockstar,” he said with a chuckle, but his eyes were serious. “But mostly, I just think about… stuff.”

“Stuff?” You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward, intrigued. “What kind of stuff?”

He hesitated for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “You know, like… what it all means. Being a mutant, having powers, all that. But lately, I’ve been thinking about people too.” His gaze locked onto yours, and you felt your breath hitch slightly.

“People?” you echoed, heart pounding. “Like…?”

“I dunno. Maybe people like... you.” The words hung in the air, heavy and electric. His expression was earnest, searching yours for a reaction.

You felt a rush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice low. “You’ve always been there for me. And I’ve been wanting to tell you… well, I think you’re incredible.”

The sincerity in his eyes made your pulse quicken. It was that moment—the one that seemed to stretch and expand, where everything else faded away. You could hear your heart beating in your ears. “Peter, I—”

Before you could finish, he closed the distance between you, his hand brushing against your cheek. “Can I show you? How incredible I think you are.” he asked softly, and you nodded, breathless as your throat felt dry.

In an instant, his lips were on yours, tentative at first but quickly growing more confident, as if he were testing the waters of this uncharted territory. You melted into the kiss, feeling the warmth radiate between you, a rush of electricity that made everything else fade away. You reached up and felt his silver strands go through your fingers. This felt like a dream. He was kissing you, and not out of pity or a dare- Because he liked you. He really liked you...

When he pulled back, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other. “Wow,” he whispered, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “So, do you think I could ever be a rockstar?”

You laughed, the moment lightening but the intensity still there. “You definitely have the charm for it,” you replied, heart still racing. “But let’s focus on this secret hideout first.” He chuckled, that easy, familiar laugh you loved. “Deal.” The night stretched out before you, filled with possibilities, the quiet of the clubhouse now brimming with newfound connection.

Do not copy or translate plz! -CallMe_Bunni

That's how I remember them