Summary: Thanos’ dark magic and influence has spread farther than anyone dared imagine. While he terrorized the magical world by destroying communities and families, there was one group – The Avengers – that did everything in their power to hunt him down, to destroy him before he came into ownership of all six Infinity Stones. Who knew the answer to their prayers would come in the form of a teenage boy; Peter Parker. Word Count: 2,765 Warnings: Magic, language, fighting, angst, fluff, alcohol, talk of death, talk of torture, explicit sexual content. These warnings will be a staple throughout. Author’s Note: Inspiration for this fic came from this amazing GIFset by @mamalaz. I also wouldn’t have been able to write it without @captain-rogers-beard and @climbthatmooselikeatree. Their unyielding support and assistance has been invaluable. GIF Credit [X]
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Peter was bouncing on the balls of his feet nervously, chewing on the string of his hoodie. “I don’t get why we have to come here,” he pouted, nodding at the pillar between platforms nine and ten.
May looked at her nephew with a brow arched. “If you didn’t keep getting kicked out of school,” she began, voice tight, irritated. “We wouldn’t have to keep moving.”
“I didn’t do it,” he insisted.
It consisted of spray painting the ceiling of Headmaster Phillips’ ceiling with SPIDEY RULES THIS SCHOOL. Spidey just so happened to be Peter’s nickname, a name he earned almost immediately after mastering a spell that gave him spider-like senses, reflexes, and abilities, a spell that no one had been able to duplicate since. No one, that is, except for Peter.
“I know, sweetheart,” May cooed, her gaze turning sweet. “You just… you’re too damn smart for your own good sometimes.”
Peter was confused, his aunt had always said to never stop learning, never dumb himself down, not for anyone. “So… I should pretend I’m something that I’m not?”
“Oh, God, no,” May chuckled. “I’m just… I’m just saying that… God, I don’t even know what I’m saying.”
May was tired, so very tired, and not just from the fourteen hour flight. Taking over the role of mother to her nephew was life-changing, for all parties involved. Peter was just a child when his parents died, struck down in the middle of the night.
They were up late, watching a movie, a movie that Peter had picked out as a reward for getting top marks in his class. He squeezed himself between his mother and father, a large bowl of freshly popped popcorn in his lap, their hands grabbing at the buttery morsels. Try as he might, Peter was asleep twenty minutes later.
It was the silence that woke him, the eerie kind that follows death around, driving chills down the spines of everyone it touched.
There was a blanket over his head, one that smelled anything but clean. It fell to the floor with a wet smack, a sound that Peter only heard after a bath or shower, when his towel was soaked. It didn’t belong, that sound.
Then there was the smell. It turned his stomach, filled his mouth with saliva, pushed bile into the back of his throat. It was thick and overpowering. It was the blood of his mother and father, and it was everywhere. It was tacky, yet it soaked into his socks as he went searching for his parents, it was thick between his toes, rubbing them together with each step.
He found them at the bottom of the steps, the front door in shreds, blown from its hinges, wood splinters pushed into the walls. They looked like they were sleeping, trapped in a nightmare, their eyes pinched shut, hands thrust out in a futile attempt to fight off whoever had killed them.
Whoever it was either hadn’t known Peter was there, or they didn’t care. What Peter did know was that his mother and father had died in order to save him. He would find the witch or wizard and show them the same ‘mercy’ his parents had been shown.
“It’s okay, aunt May,” Peter sighed. “I’ll do my best.”
She pressed a kiss to her nephew’s forehead. “I know you will.”
Steve was standing there, at the head of the class, his hands completely engulfed in flames. Several of the students gasped, hands over their mouths, eyes wide with curiosity. He couldn’t keep from smirking. First years were always easily frightened.
“It’s about control,” he continued. “Not allowing your fear to seep through, otherwise -” the wall that he had built up over the years had started to crumble, just enough for the flames to start flickering.
With a shuddering breath, he clenched his hands and the flames disappeared completely. He could feel their eyes on him, wondering what had happened, what was going to happen. In the blink of an eye, his entire body was on fire, and the students started screaming in terror. Several of them rushed over to Steve, asking what they needed to do, but Steve said nothing.
After one minute, the flames went out. The students circled around him, watching with wide eyes as the angry scorch marks tarnishing his skin and clothes started to fade away.
“Control,” he ground out as he stood. “It’s a pain in the ass to learn, but it can be done.”
The end of class alarm sounded and the students scurried away, harshly whispering about what Professor Rogers had just done. Bucky was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, and a smirk tugging at his lips.
“You enjoy that too much,” he laughed.
“Do not,” Steve scoffed, a hand raking through his longer strands.
Bucky rolled his eyes as he walked through the room, the heels of his boots scuffing on the aged floor. “We’re headed out,” he announced as Steve started sorting through several parchments. “Thought you might like to join us.”
“Oh yeah?” Steve mused. “Sounds fun. Nat gonna be there?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
Steve arched a brow as he looked at his friend. “You talk to her since the other night?”
“Not really,” was Bucky’s answer. “Why, what happened?”
“She went off on Wanda about Loki,” Steve informed Bucky as he cleaned up his desk. “Again.”
Bucky sat down on the edge of the first row of desks. “You know how she is.”
“I do,” Steve lamented, a hand on the back of his neck. “But at the same time, she needs to back off of Wan. None of what has happened is her fault, and Nat, she’s like a dog with a bone.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to her,” Bucky sighed. “Are we good for tonight?”
“Let me talk with Wanda first.”
Even though she still seemed a bit rattled from her encounter with Natasha, Wanda agreed that a night out was a good idea, for everyone involved. Tension had been running high since Steve and Wanda encountered Loki, and not just between the normally tight knit group of friends; it was all over the place.
Attacks on the magical – and non-magical alike – had risen drastically; no one was being spared in the wake of Thanos’ rage. He would do anything, kill anyone, destroy everything if it meant he was in control of the Infinity Stones.
It was confirmed that Thanos was in possession of two; the power and space stone. Being a Titan, Thanos was extremely powerful, but with the power stone, he was damn near unstoppable. If he got his hands on the other four, their world, as they knew it, would be over.
So, drinks it was. Drinks, and good company. For the most part.
As soon as Natasha laid eyes on Wanda, her demeanor changed. Her shoulders straightened, her eyes rolled before turning her back to the couple, and she ignored them for the rest of the night.
Steve pressed a kiss to Wanda’s crown. “Let’s ignore her right back, okay?”
Wanda agreed with a chuckle, her hand on Steve’s chest as she turned, looking up into his cerulean eyes. “Go and sit by the fire. I will get us something to drink.”
Steve did as she directed, headed toward the fire where his friends were seated. Out of the group, Clint saw him first.
“‘Bout time you got here, Cap,” he called out, wearing a giant smile.
Steve gave the man a quick hug before saying, “Good to see you. How ya been?”
“Busy, man,” was his answer. “Just got in from Romania where we had to fight off some poachers.”
Bucky growled and shook his head. He hated dragon poachers with every fibre of his being. Just the thought of someone hunting down the beautiful creatures made his blood boil. “Tell me no dragons got hurt.”
“We only lost two,” Clint informed Bucky solemnly. “The rest we were able to bring back to the reservation.”
“And the poachers?” Steve asked.
Anger flickered in Clint’s moss eyes. “A handful got away, but I have a good idea of where they’re headed next, and who’s in charge.”
Wanda appeared at Steve’s side, drinks in her hands. “Who is it?”
“Ulysses Klaue,” Clint answered darkly.
The drinks fell from Wanda’s hands, the bouncing of the metal glasses silent due to the roar of blood in her ears. Her hands started shaking, flickering with red energy, embers dancing along her skin. It couldn’t be, not Ulysses. She had to have heard wrong.
“Fuck,” Steve muttered as he turned to his girlfriend. “Wanda, breathe, doll. Just breathe.”
“What’s happening?” Clint wanted to know, peering around Steve. “Is she okay?”
Steve stayed focused on Wanda, on trying to get her to calm down, but it didn’t appear to be working; she was panicking, too far gone to be able to pull back.
“Klaue was the man that took her and Pietro,” Bucky answered as he shoved out of his seat.
“Shit,” Clint ground out. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t know.”
Steve ignored Clint as he cupped Wanda’s face. “Baby, come back to me.”
Unbridled rage flooded through her, white-hot, like a live wire, desperately looking for the man she held responsible for the monster she had become. Her entire body was thrumming with power, no doubt lashing out at the man in front of her.
“We need to get her out of here,” Bucky grit out.
The other patrons were staring and pointing, some even reaching inside their frocks for their wands. The last thing anyone needed was for there to be another incident.
Steve ripped his hands away from Wanda, hissing at the electrical spark that snapped painfully against his fingertips. “It ain’t gonna be easy.”
Out of nowhere, Wanda’s body was jerked away and sent flying out the front door.
“Problem solved,” Nat sneered.
Steve strode over, murder in his eyes, hands balled into fists at his sides. “Don’t ever do anything like that again. You hear me, Natalia?”
The woman who had earned the moniker of the Black Widow glared up at Steve. “I just saved everybody in here.”
“You don’t touch her,” he warned. “Or so help me, I’ll -”
“What? You’ll what, Steve?” Her dark eyes roamed over Steve’s face, his features contorted in anger.
When Steve didn’t move or say anything further, Nat gave a knowing smile. “That’s what I thought.”
Steve gave a growl low in his throat before turning away and heading toward the door, but Natasha wasn’t done with him just yet.
“What would Peggy think of what you’re doing, of who you’re doing?”
He stood there, flames licking at the surface of his skin as his anger stormed out of control. The only reason he didn’t turn around and unleash hell upon the bitchy redhead was Bucky. His friend had come up behind him and clapped him on the back.
“Let it go, brother,” Bucky suggested. “Go make sure Wanda is okay.”
“She better not be here if we come back,” Steve seethed, flames dancing in his eyes.
“She won’t be,” Bucky vowed.
Steve strode outside just as Wanda was pulling herself out of the water. Her teeth were chattering and her skin was pale, her eyes appearing sunken and dark.
“You’re okay. I got you,” he murmured, tearing off his jacket and wrapping it around her shaking form.
“Ta- take m- me ho- home,” was all she said.
They disappeared from the oceanfront with a loud crack, one that echoed throughout the village, one that scared some of the birds, appearing less than a second later in their cozy living quarters within the castle.
Steve set Wanda in front of a roaring fire, one that snapped and popped to life with a flick of his wrist. While she sat there, her head cocked to the side, her mind folding in on itself, Steve set about making her favorite tea, the one she drank when she couldn’t stop crying about Pietro, or when the nightmares got too bad to sleep, or when she was convinced she was having prophetic visions about a desolate future.
He was by her side five minutes later, wrapping an arm around her, making sure she drank the brown liquid that shimmered in the light of the fire. Wanda would make small noises of appreciation when she drank, though her eyes remained fixed on the dancing flames.
Steve removed her boots and socks, setting them on the hearth. Turning back, he moved slowly as he approached her, and started removing her soaked garments, wrapping her in a thick blanket once she was naked. Knowing how much she loved skin-to-skin contact, he worked quickly to rid himself of his clothes, joining her within the confines of the blankets several short moments later.
Wanda could feel Steve’s heart on her cheek as they lay there, on the floor, surrounded by blankets and pillows. With his hand drawing nonsensical patterns on her back, she tipped her head back and scratched her nails through his beard. Steve gave a hum of contentment as he looked down at her.
She pushed up, using his shoulder for leverage, and smeared her lips against his. Steve let out a stuttering sigh, tangled a hand in her hair, and pulled her body flush against his as their lips met. As their tongues danced, Wanda slid a hand down Steve’s chest and stomach, and scraped her nails through the short curls before palming Steve’s half-hard cock. Her power skittered along her fingertips, up and down his shaft as she worked him, until he was achingly hard, throbbing and red.
Steve’s thick fingers scraped and tickled her breasts, sides, and stomach before dipping between her legs. He couldn’t stop from moaning when his fingers slid easily between her slicked folds, or the way her body tightened around his two digits when they pushed into her heat.
The two were a writhing, moaning mess by the time Wanda straddled Steve, lowering herself onto his weeping and throbbing cock. Steve gripped her hips as their bodies started rocking together, as they pushed and pulled, their moans and grunts filling the room, echoed by the sounds of wet skin sliding together.
Wanda was close to shattering, a flicker of red squeezing and circling her clit, using her power to catapult herself over the edge. She came with a strangled cry of Steve’s name, back arched, head thrown back, hands gripping Steve’s thick thighs. His feet were planted on the floor as he pounded up into her tightening pussy, falling over the precipice himself moments later, her name gruff and dark on his tongue.
Completely sated, Wanda felt boneless as she rolled to Steve’s side, leaving her leg draped over his thigh.
“She does not like me very much, does she?” Wanda asked hoarsely.
Steve pulled in a ragged breath. “Natasha’s never been much of a people person,” he tried to explain.
Truth be told, Nat was an untrusting bitch that had started second-guessing everything from the moment Wanda escaped Thanos’ clutches. The woman was damn near paranoid, and for good reason. There had been many double, even triple agents in Hogwarts’ battle of good versus evil.
Steve was absolutely positive that Wanda wasn’t like them, she would never betray her friends, the people that she had grown to love. He couldn’t say the same thing about Nat, his friend since their first year at the wizarding school.
Curling his finger under Wanda’s chin, Steve’s eyes scanned her face. “Whatever Nat thinks about you doesn’t matter.”
“But what you think of me does,” she whispered, tears clouding her vision.
“Hey, hey,” Steve murmured. “I love you, Wan. Ain’t nothing that can change that.”
“I was a weapon, Steve. I ki- killed people, good people.”
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed away her tears. “That’s not you anymore, doll. You’re good.”
“What if I -”
“No. There is no ‘what if’,” he interrupted sternly, nudging her nose with his. “You won’t go back. I won’t let you. I won’t, I can’t lose you, too.”
Wanda choked on a sob at the desperation in his voice, at the love shimmering in his eyes. She knew that no matter how long she was away from Thanos, from Loki and the Death Eaters that she would be scarred, mentally and physically, that she had a hell of a long road ahead of her. But, if Steve was at her side, she knew she could do it.
“You won’t lose me,” she vowed before kissing him.
Summary: Thanos’ dark magic and influence has spread farther than anyone dared imagine. While he terrorized the magical world by destroying communities and families, there was one group – The Avengers – that did everything in their power to hunt him down, to destroy him before he came into ownership of all six Infinity Stones. Who knew the answer to their prayers would come in the form of a teenage boy; Peter Parker. Warnings: Magic, language, fighting, angst, fluff, alcohol, talk of death, talk of torture.
Warnings: Fluff, family and relationship drama, (trigger warning) healing after a trauma, some pretty strong angst, and explicit sexual content that is NSFW 18+. SERIOUSLY.
Chapter Summary: Getting prepared for a wedding was a lot of work, unless you were lucky enough to be marrying into the Avengers, with access to the unbelievable Pepper Potts and her team of planners. You were able to focus on enjoying yourself, and becoming Mrs. Steven Rogers. Your friends and loved ones showered both you and Steve with attention and fun events, all leading up to the Big Day – but will Big Bad make an appearance?
Chapter Notes: (This note is from when I first published this on A03, thought I’d keepit for nostalgia. Who really reads these here anyway?) Hi everyone! (hides behind hands). I am so sorry it has taken so long for this update. Life has definitely been crazy – work, home, health – all the things that could act up, did, making this story the last on the “to-do” list. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and just plunged into finishing it. I would really love to hear your feedback – honestly, it makes my day to read what people are kind enough to take the time to write. I’ve already chopped off a bunch to put in the next chapter, because I was nearing 9,000 words with no end in sight. I didn’t want to chain you to your screen for too long! As always, @MsEnglish101 is just the best beta I could ever ask for – encouraging, smart, funny, and all-around awesome. Thanks again and enjoy. 🙂
In your rush to be realistic and pragmatic, you had truly forgotten what it was like to get swept up in a happy event, let alone one at which you were the center. All the wonderful people in your life seemed to have made a pact that they were going to make it impossible for you to be down-to-earth – they all encouraged you to think about yourself and Steve, to make this wedding about the two of you, and to enjoy every single minute. It was a heady feeling that neither you nor Steve were completely comfortable with, but slowly got used to.
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