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!