Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3874699.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, M/M, Other
  Fandom:
      Marvel_Cinematic_Universe, The_Avengers_(Marvel_Movies), The_Avengers_
      (Marvel)_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Pietro_Maximoff/Wanda_Maximoff, Pietro_Maximoff/Original_Character(s),
      Wanda_Maximoff/Original_Character(s), Steve_Rogers/Thor, suggestion_of
      pre-Steve_Rogers/Thor/Pietro_Maximoff/Wanda_Maximoff, Wanda_Maximoff_&
      Jarvis, Natasha_Romanov/Sam_Wilson
  Character:
      Wanda_Maximoff, Pietro_Maximoff, Sam_Wilson_(Marvel), Thor_(Marvel),
      Steve_Rogers, Jarvis_(Iron_Man_movies), Tony_Stark
  Additional Tags:
      Omega!Pietro, Omega!Wanda, omega!Sam, Past_Rape/Non-con, Rape_Recovery, A
      Hydra_compound_is_an_unkind_place_to_go_into_your_first_heat, Sibling
      Incest, Omega/Omega_Relationship, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics,
      Protective!Avengers, genderfluid!Steve, Genderfluid_Character,
      Caretaking, Asgardians_don't_have_a/b/o, Thor's_very_good_at_doing
      Necessary_Alpha_Things_though, So_people_assume, Alpha!Thor, Alternate
      Universe_-_Everyone_Lives/Nobody_Dies, Trans_Character, Alpha/Alpha
      Relationship, sort_of, see_notes_for_details, Second_chapter_is_briefly
      explicit, Vague_angst, references_to_flashbacks, All_characters_are
      adults_at_the_time_of_the_story, stress_cooking, Bucky_isn't_found_yet,
      Bathing/Washing, Aftercare, Angst
  Series:
      Part 2 of Omega_Maximoffs
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-05-04 Updated: 2015-11-01 Chapters: 5/? Words: 3871
****** Autonomy ******
by GrangeLady
Summary
     The twins take care of each other in heat, the Avengers are
     concerned, and Jarvis is a good caretaker.
     All non-con is historical and non-explicit, but Hydra really did a
     number on Wanda and Pietro so be aware of that.
Notes
     Somehow this dark fic, supposed to be centred on the Maximoffs'
     mistreatment by Hydra, grew a genderfluid Steve. He was designated as
     an alpha but often uses scent-altering soaps and such, and Thor is a
     very understanding boyfriend.
***** Chapter 1 *****
The first that Sam knows about it is when Jarvis won't let him onto the twins'
floor to bug Wanda into sparring with him.
"I'm sorry, Sam, but the Maximoffs aren't seeing visitors today. Is there a
message you would like me to pass on?"
Sam blinked, not used to Jarvis initiating conversation. "Are they alright?"
They might both bitch about training but they had never actually missed out on
a session. If they were sick then he should probably report that to someone.
"They are managing, thank you." Was Sam imagining a prickle in Jarvis' voice?
He stood in the stationary elevator, waiting for the AI to continue. After a
minute, he sighed and pushed the button for the common floor. Steve was lying
with his head in Thor's lap and Sam would have turned right around and left
them to their moment, but Thor had already turned to look at him. His smile
made it impossible to leave - disappointing Thor was like kicking a puppy into
the sun - so Sam smiled back as he passed through to the kitchen.
"You guys heard from the twins today?" His tone wasn't as nonchalant as he'd
been aiming for, but the way that Steve sat up to frown at him more intensely
told him that nonchalance wasn't the way to go with this.
"Not today." Thor absently ran a hand through Steve's bedhair, rearranging it
into an equally messy style and looking pleased when Steve's frown softened a
little.
Sam was shamefully grateful that Steve was having a beta day. Sam's heat was
only a couple of days away and two gorgeous apparent alphas, their eyes fixed
on him and radiating the first whiffs of protective concern, would have...
well. He probably wouldn't have popped a boner, but it'd be a close thing. He
paused and emerged from the fridge with the orange juice he'd grabbed at
random. "It's a month since they got here, right?"
"Thirty-six days, yeah." Realisation lit Steve's face and he turned his eyes
upwards to address the ceiling. "Jarvis, are you..?"
"I am keeping an eye on them, Captain. You needn't worry." That was definitely
new. Jarvis interrupting people would be a reason to worry even without the
whole 'two unpaired, blood-related, heat-mad omegas locked in alone together'
situation. The three men didn't say another word, but they all made their way
back to the elevator. Sam clutched the cold orange juice to the outside of his
thigh and did not exhale a little too hard when Thor settled a hand at the
small of Steve's back. Dammit.
At least Jarvis wasn't holding a grudge for something, because they made record
time down to Tony's lab. If either blond noticed that Sam sped into the beta's
mechanical-scented space a little faster than usual, they were too polite or
distracted to mention it.
"Stark, your AI seems upset." Thor's voice brought a dark head of hair out from
behind... something. It looked sort of like an Iron Man helmet, but it was
smaller and much narrower. Sam shook the thought away. They would deal with
Tony's experiments later.
"Jarvis?"
"'Code white', sir." The voice's delicacy around the two words spoke volumes
about who had come up with the code, but they did make Tony finally turn to
look at them.
"So the kids are in heat. Jarvis can get a little overprotective. Did they ask
for help, J?"
"Emphatically not, sir." Tony's eyebrows twitched upwards a little, but he
shrugged at the trio.
"Then leave 'em alone. They're old enough to ask for a heat partner or two if
they want to."
"They're barely nineteen!" Steve took a step forward. His path was blocked by
the workbench but the intent was clear and Steve was going to hate how strongly
his alpha pheromones were pushing through his beta scent when he realised. Tony
didn't flinch, and a part of Sam marvelled at that.
A moment of silent tension later, Tony broke eye contact and said, "You didn't
get a chance to read the detailed versions of their files, did you Cap?" His
manner had softened in something like apology but his stance hadn't changed. He
wasn't taking responsibility but he was sorry about whatever he was bringing up
on the screen that suddenly hovered next to him.
"I'm sending these to your rooms. I like my lab without chunks ripped out of
it." The humour fell flat, but Thor was already heading for the elevator. Sam
thought about getting the next one, but nope. That wasn't his life. His life
was the one that put him in a tiny space with Captain America's scent bristling
like he was ready to challenge any alpha who looked his way.
Thor kept a hand on Steve's hip to keep him close when Sam dashed off at his
own floor. The omega had been trying to hide it, but it was clear even to Thor
that Sam had been uncomfortable, and it had only gotten worse when Steve had
growled at Tony. Sometimes he wished he could scent like Midgardians did. It
would make things so much easier. He tugged Steve closer until their sides were
touching.
"I hope we haven't frightened the Falcon too badly," he said in a low voice.
The grumble seemed to soothe children, omegas in heat, and Steve. It might
soothe others too, but those were the only people he had tried it on.
"Hmm?" Sure enough, Steve relaxed from battle-ready to something approaching
normality. "What do you mean?"
Thor opened his mouth to reply, but the doors swept open and Steve was already
striding off towards the screen opposite their bed. He followed close behind.
There were already two lines of text on the screen. 'Wanda Maximoff' was
highlighted, and 'Pietro Maximoff' was underneath, waiting patiently for once.
Thor sat next to Steve on the end of the bed, covered his lover's hand with his
own, and reached for the remote.
The first page was basic detail: her name, her next of kin, her gender, her
known powers. The picture in the top corner was from before she had joined the
team. "I don't think this is what Stark wanted us to look at." Thor agreed and
pushed an arrow button.
Steve was trying to focus on not 'going alpha-Hulk' as Clint had taken to
calling the berserker protection instinct, but he still felt like they
shouldn't be able to access Wanda's medical files. There it was, though.
History of heat partners: various. (She was an adult, that was allowed, stop
growling for God's sake.) History of pregnancy: none to term, two possible
miscarriages. Alphas unknown, probable Hydra agents. (The idea of her body
curled into a comma in some Hydra hellhole was none of Steve's business, Wanda
hadn't made it his business, unclench your fists, that's enough now.) Age of
first heat: 13. Age of first shared heat: 13. (Steve could feel Thor growling
beside him and it burst a savage pleasure into his chest. They could take on
anyone, could snap these bastards into pieces, never let them put their hands
on another child.) Preferred heat partner ICOE: Pietro Maximoff.
Thor had crushed the remote control, but apparently Jarvis had taken over
because the same page from Pietro's file flashed up next. The same grim
details, the same 'preferred partner: my own twin', the same bile rising in
Steve's chest, except for the number of pregnancies. Pietro had miscarried
three 'and possibly more' because apparently the bastard who had taken Pietro
had drugged him down for at least one whole heat. 'Please see psychiatric notes
from Dr Wellsey'. No, not a good idea at all today. But even the clinical tone
of the file brought hellish images onto Steve's mind. Quicksilver, sluggish
with anaesthetic, writhing under the hand of some stranger. Too young to take
it, but made to take it anyway.
Steve got to the toilet in time so he didn't throw up on the carpet, but then
he was sitting with his back to the wall and crying like he hadn't since. Well,
since he found out about Bucky's treatment. He closed his eyes. "We have to
help them." Thor was in the doorway, of course, waiting for Steve to invite him
in or ask for some space. In a second he was sitting next to him.
"If they ask us, we will." A cool hand smoothed over his still-tousled hair.
"We mustn't scare them, or make them feel unsafe." Steve nodded. He knew that.
Of course he did. Just. They had to do something.
A twinless day and twenty-seven destroyed punching bags later, Steve had
developed an idea.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Summary
     A fluffy moment, and we finally get a Maximoff POV!
Pietro lay on his sister's bed, listening to her clattering around in the
bathroom. They were nearing the end of their cycle - Wanda, having started
twelve hours before Pietro, was finally in that groggy aftermath stage where
she wanted to cuddle and sleep. Pietro was in an ebb, his body allowing him
some respite before ramping up the tension again.
He hated this part. At the beginning, when one was coherent and the other could
cling to them and just be taken care of, it was bliss. At the end it was
something to endure. They were both fucked out, exhausted, reeking of each
other's arousal and the fear that always came when the hormones were too heavy
to remember who they were with. He had hoped this heat would be easy. They had
a den of their own in Avengers Tower and they knew Jarvis would let the world
end before he let anyone in. (Wanda knew this. Pietro had ceased to question
her certainties a long time ago.)
It had been better; they had both rested more easily, and a well-stocked fridge
nearby was worth more than he ever would have guessed. Wanda had remained
conscious for most of her peaks. No need to shield them from the perceptions of
passersby or guards, no need to examine Pietro for signs of his fear taking
over his power and revealing them... It had been a much better heat than they'd
ever had before.
Pietro's skin started to prickle against the sheets and he only just kept
himself from groaning. His throat was hoarse from his scream earlier, when
Wanda had finally pushed her fourth finger into him and scratched his itch. He
had come until he cried, dick twitching dry while Wanda had pressed distracted
kisses into the inside of his thighs. It had been a minute until he had come
down enough for her to remove the 'knot' without tearing him - the squelch as
she pulled her hand from his weakly fluttering hole had gone almost unnoticed -
but he didn't stop to catch his breath before rolling them over and sticking
his face between her legs.
It didn't take long for Wanda to be coming in turn around his fist, and he
soothed his free hand along her belly while she shuddered and he kissed her
quivering pussy. And then they had done it again. And again. And then Wanda had
stopped needing him and had gone in the shower.
Stupid. Of course that's not why she left. But it was hard to focus on that
when his hips were aching with the tired force of his arousal, and Pietro
finally let himself call, "Wanda!" too quietly. Jarvis must have passed it on,
though, because the faint hiss of water stopped and Wanda immediately
reappeared.
"Need it again, baby?" Her hair was dark with water and her face was warm with
a tenderness nobody else got to see. He nodded and pulled the blanket up in a
clear invitation. She slipped in beside him and stayed awake long enough to see
him over what was hopefully the last peak, before curling around him where she
fit perfectly. Things were good. Really. And if Pietro waited for her to snore
before he let the fear wash over him, well, it wasn't like she didn't do the
same to him.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Summary
     A tiny interlude from Thor's point of view. Steve makes a good case.
When Thor returns from Jane and Darcy's place out in the New Mexico desert, he
finds the kitchen on his floor full of a cloud of Steve's cooking. Thor doesn't
manage to settle his hands on Steve's sides before he finds himself spun into a
chair and presented with a bowl of stew and a loaf of very fresh bread. The
oven flicks off as Steve sits next to him. Thor can't help but imagine Jarvis
as an invisible figure, hurrying after his distracted lover and keeping the
soldier from setting himself on fire.
Steve hasn't plated himself anything despite the truly ample portion on the
stove, and Thor understands. He picks up the spoon that has skidded towards his
hand, turns to plant a kiss on Steve's face, digs in, and listens.
Three hours, six courses, and one very well-made argument later, Thor looks at
Steve. It won't be easy.
Thor nods.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Summary
     Pietro recovers a bit later than Wanda, who is pondering her little
     pack.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Wanda's favourite part of heat was cooling off afterwards. Once the bubbling
hormones had settled, they always needed at least a day to gather themselves,
and the few times they got to spend it together were her best memories of their
time with Hydra.
(They had signed up, yes, but how could a couple of 8 year olds know what they
were getting into? They had followed a man who said they would be made
powerful, and had instead been made prisoners in seperate cells, in
laboratories, on bare mattresses with some Alpha who had earned the privilege
of forcing a knot into their begging and addled bodies... Not now.)
Pietro turned with head a fraction, tucking more firmly under her chin. The
warmth on her still swollen bonding glands made her pussy twitch slightly, but
she was spent. His hands pulled her closer; he could sense her half interest
even in sleep. She smiled, not caring that her clean hair was dampening the
sweaty pillow, and hiked a leg up over his hip. Satisfied that they were as
close as they could be, she closed her eyes and let herself drift.
They were disgusting when they woke, parts stuck together with the last of
Pietro's come, and when they peeled apart Wanda could only think that they
needed to shower before anything else.
She didn't hold back her pleased hum when her brother trailed shampoo-covered
fingers into her hair and lathered them down her back. His face was so open in
these moments (too few even now they were settled in the Tower), she could
almost believe they were okay. That they were mates, normal mates who hadn't
shared a womb, and they could show each other off. Nothing about him said
anything but 'omega', but with half her brain she even wondered what it would
be like to have a beta there - even her idle fantasies weren't so naive as to
think she could trust and stand naked in front of an alpha - taking in her body
with eyes and hands.
When Pietro's broad, careful hands had washed down the curves of her hips, her
ass, the soft skin of her legs and the softer flesh between them, she reached
up and pulled him in for a kiss. Holding her body away from his to keep from
undoing all his good work, she teased over his slow tongue only once. He wasn't
as far cooled as she was and she didn't want him to drop to sleep in the
shower.
Having indulged his inspection of her, she turned to gather somebof the shampoo
into her own hands. Trying for speed and thoroughness, his wash wasn't quite as
tender as hers had been, butbshe paid careful attention to his glands (still
raised with the last blush of heat, as scarred with old bitemarks as ever) and
his hole (barely slick now, not bleeding, still sensitive if his shudder when
she passed the side of her palm over it was any indication). By the time she
was finished her ritual checks and speedy wash, he was leaning on the tiled
wall and looking as blissed-out as he ever had.
"You can't sleep there, Pietro. " He let her take his hand and lead him from
the shower to the towel rack. No time for fun and games now. The rooms were as
comfortable as they could be on Pietro's still overwarm skin, but the sheets
needed changing and then bed would be very, very good. Wanda blinked through
the rising mist of her own tiredness and wondered if she should gave accepted
Stark's offer of a bot as 'eunuch heatmate' but squashed the thought
immediately. The thought of another person(?) that near them in heat had turned
her stomach. She knew Dummy and You weren't threats, knew they were sharing
space with Jarvis anyway, and an artificial caretaker had his special skills.
They didn't include changing sheets, though.
They did include keeping an eye on Pietro while he nodded in the steam-wet
bathroom wicker chair while she padded into the bedroom. Through the dimmed
novelty of having a duvet to wrestle with, she wondered if this was Jarvis
becoming part of their pack. The second she had shaken the duvet to all corners
of the cover, she was shouldered onto the bed by a towel-wrapped Pietro. He
bounced down next to her and instantly fell into the deep breaths of sleep. She
pulled her legs the rest of the way onto the bed and lay at a right angle to
him, her head on the pillow.
"Jarvis?" she whispered to the darkening room.
"You seemed about finished." Impossibly, there was a smile in the AI's muted
voice. Wanda answered it with one if her own as she closed her eyes again.
Chapter End Notes
     I really meant to get to the Thor cuddling this chapter. Please
     accept Jarvis always knowing the perfect threat level to express
     instead.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Summary
     Natasha struggles with her instincts when Wanda ventures out of the
     den.
Chapter Notes
     I haven't updated in almost six months, so here's some exposition
     about a character who is not the focus of this story! Sorry, but I
     need to get back in the writer's headspace and I realised Natasha has
     been neglected (along with Bruce, who will also be dealt with soon)
     by this story.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Natasha was very good at her job. Undercover work was her bread and butter, and
when it came to building a persona (or taking on one that had been built for
her) and burying herself in it, she was among the best in SHIELD's history.
Only 'among', though, because... well, because she was an alpha.
SHIELD was an inclusive company, but there was a good reason that betas were
the traditional choice for use in espionage: a beta's scent could be covered or
altered far more easily than an alpha's. Steve's situation was a perfect
example of the problem faced by any alpha who had tried to pass as anything
else. The most advanced medical research in the world couldn't perfect a scent
dampener that would hold against his (admittedly enhanced) involuntary scent
flares. When an organisation's budget ran a little lower, even the steady base
scent of an unenhanced alpna would break through after a few hours.
The tower was the first place Natasha had ever felt comfortable enough to go
without any sort of scent-masking medication or equipment, and though she tried
not to let on, she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Exposed, certainly. She
could be tracked, traced, and the clear liquorice tone of her real scent would
betray her eventually. Her therapist had told her to try it out, though, and
she couldn't deny the little rush of pride she felt when she walked into a room
and it smelled like her. She had never given much credence to the power of a
denbuilding urge before. (Somewhere in the layers of her mind, she knew that
repression and denial go hand in hand.)
She's been in places where the organisation didn't matter; in the field, posing
as a beta, low on supplies and cut off from other resources, she had been
desperate enough to fall back on superstition. She and Clint kept few things
back from each other but their last day in Ghanzi had seen some intense
discussion of whether it would be a good (or necessary, or disastrous) idea for
Natasha to drink some of Clint's blood. They had never really come to a good
conclusion about that: the explosion of the train carriage next to the one they
were hiding in had distracted them.
The point was that Natasha didn't mind being an alpha. She had a pack now,
people who relied on her, and she was allowed to feel the growl in her chest if
that was threatened, and she even thought (hoped, really hoped) that Sam might
be gearing up to invite her to share his heat. Her alpha instincts were hers to
direct now and it was terrifying because she dould do so much harm, but she
would rip the throat out of anyone who would try to take it away from her. Had
done, once, in the first and last time any SHIELD handler has suggested she
permanently go on beta hormones. It was more than a decade ago now, from when
she was fresh from the Red Room - the hearings and evaluations and all their
paperwork filed under 'to archive' - but it's hardly the sort of thing people
forget.
Sometimes she wished she had less of a reputation for her it. Wanda was frozen
in the doorway of the common area like a mouse before it bolts from a snake.
"Hey," Natasha said, tilting her head to look over the sofa's back,
incidentally baring her throat in a classic submission pose, her arms loose at
her sides, her knees tipped together with her feet planted apart, the craft
tutorial show on the huge TV totally losing her attention. "Are you guys okay?"
She almost heard Jarvis scowl at the slight to his caretaking skill. 'You
deserve to check on your pack,' the shadow of some pamphlet's words came to
her, 'as long as you respect their boundaries.' It had been aimed at children.
Natasha had read it in her twenties.
The female omega nodded. Her posture was all wrong: hunched in to seem smaller
and still poised to run, it kept pinging unhelpful ideas in Natasha's
hindbrain, like 'prey' and 'chase' and 'claim'.
She forced a tentative smile to her face and shoved those impulses back. A
faint voice from childhood praised her, 'because alpha brain is stupid', but
she talked over it. "Ready to rejoin the world?"
The weak half-joke fell flat but at least Wanda seemed to appreciate the
effort. She huffed a polite laugh and walked ('scurried', Natasha's hindbrain
cheerfully supplied) to the kitchen area. "Not quite," she called when there
was a partition between them. "Pietro wanted jello but we ran out. I came to
forage."
Images of the Witch taking care of her brother almost overcame Natasha. Tucking
the sheets up to his chin when they were too fucked out to speak, rolling him
onto his side to spoon up behind him, bringing him sweet drinks when be woke,
helping him to the bathroom when his legs were weak as water and almost as wet
with slick, ruffling his sweaty hair, pulling him through orgasm and letting
him squeal into her shoulder... But at some point Pietro had become Sam, Wanda
had become Natasha, and she snapped back to reality just in time to see the leg
of Wanda's pajamas vanish in a rush back to their floor.
Natasha cursed when she realised how strongly she had scented the common area.
Chapter End Notes
     I know Natasha seems a little feral in this chapter, and I'm sorry if
     it's too much, but I'm trying to get across that explosive sense of
     repressed desire finally being accepted and being just a little
     unmanageable, first when she joined SHIELD and got some therapy, and
     then when she moved into the Tower and lived with her pack for the
     first time ever, and now there's a cute omega she's courting and
     she's being respectful but it's really hard. (In a side note, guess
     who realised they were a lesbian in the last six months? It's me.
     It's been a strange time in my life.)
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