Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/310924. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: F/M Fandom: X-Men_Evolution Relationship: Pietro_Maximoff/Wanda_Maximoff Character: Toad_(X-Men) Additional Tags: Twincest Stats: Published: 2012-01-02 Words: 1795 ****** Whenever You Need Me ****** by citizenjess_(givehimonemore) Summary It's a dark and stormy night, but at least Pietro and Wanda have each other. Takes place during season two, shortly after Wanda comes to live at the Brotherhood mansion. It's weird having Wanda there again; not bad weird, but not necessarily good weird, either. Sometimes, it's so familiar to have his sister standing next to him, to feel her eyes roving over his face; neither of them are telepaths, but it always feels like he can tell exactly what Wanda is thinking, and he knows she feels the same way. He's pretty sure it's a twin thing, and he's missed it. The other guys in the house are incredibly awkward around his sister, almost like they've never seen a girl before. To be fair, Wanda is pretty unique, Pietro thinks; also, she's incredibly forward, her upbringing and the years spent in near-isolation from other human beings all contributing factors. She's not particularly modest, either; at one point, she saunters out of the upstairs bathroom clad in nothing but a very thin, raggedy towel that barely covers what it's supposed to, and Pietro is pretty sure he's going to have to throw himself in front of Wanda to protect her chastity from Toad's prying eyes (to say nothing of his tongue, which is practically dragging on the floor). "Dude, lay off," he frowns, and Toad barely has time to snap the slimy appendage back into his mouth before Pietro's sharp boot heel can come down on top of it vengefully. "Not cool, man," Toad retorts. He mumbles something about his needs and how Wanda isn't exactly shy about showing off her womanly goods, but it's intentionally under his breath. The storm is typical late-summer fare, even if the Brotherhood has collectively never listened to a weather report a day in their lives; in their current living situation, they hardly need to, as the roof leaking large, cold droplets of water onto the cracked kitchen linoleum is indication enough of what's happening outside. "I'll get a bucket," Pietro sighs when he traipses through the area for a late-night snack and notices that both Lance and Blob are staring at the leak dumbly. It's flat-out pouring rain by the time he retires to his bedroom for the evening, shoveling himself underneath several blankets and thumbing through a men's fashion magazine while the storm rages on, knocking against his window, drumming overhead. He's about to call it a night completely when his doorknob starts to turn. "Pietro? Are you still awake?" Wanda asks him, and as the door swings open further, he sees his sister, dressed in an oversized red t-shirt and shorts that he can barely see peering out beneath the hem, squinting at him. "I hate rain," she says ruefully, and Pietro smiles and beckons her in. "I know you do." It's true, Wanda has always hated storms, in general. When they were little, she used to curl up with him whenever a particularly hard bout of rain or sleet or snow hit, and they would wrap their small bodies together and wait out the worst of the elements' vengeful behavior together. Pietro tosses the magazine over the edge of his mattress. "You can sleep here if you want," he offers, and Wanda nods. The bed isn't particularly large, and both siblings have grown considerably since they did this last, but it's a comfortable enough fit, even if Wanda is practically on top of Pietro, her bare legs smooth against his softly furred ones. "I've missed you, Sis," he murmurs, and smiles when Wanda lays her head in the crook of his neck. His hands smooth under her shirt and across her back. Her skin is warm. "I wrote letters to you sometimes," Wanda tells him at one point, and her leg moves to hitch over his hip. Pietro shifts a little, but that only makes the strange feeling pooling in his lower belly more pronounced. He tries to ignore it, tries to concentrate on his sister's story. "I never got to send any of them," she continues. "They never let me. They wanted me to think that you just didn't exist anymore." "Me, too," Pietro whispers, and his grip tightens around her involuntarily. "I wanted to visit so badly, Wanda. But everyone told me you were too dangerous; that you'd hurt us." "Wouldn't hurt you," Wanda says stubbornly, and Pietro stifles a sigh, knowing immediately who she's referring to. "When I ever see him again, though, I'll destroy him." Pietro rubs at the self-shorn hair at the back of Wanda's head. "He was really devastated, too," he tells her carefully. "I think he was at least as upset as I was, even though he wouldn't admit it." Wanda raises her head, dark eyes boring into his. "You always defend him," she hisses, hitting him on the shoulder. He winces. "I do not!" "Then stop defending him now." He obeys, and she stretches out anew, presses nearly entirely along the length of his body now, front to front. She moves a little, and he bites his lip to stifle a groan. "D-don't, Wanda ..." he tells her, and he can see her smiling, even in the darkness. "Can you rub my back some more, Pietro?" she asks, and he sighs and complies with the request. His fingertips dance purposefully across her back and shoulderblades, and he can feel the gooseflesh rise. "Cold?" he asks her, stilling his hand. "Mmm," she murmurs noncommittally, and then, "more." He obeys. Then Wanda's leg brushes over his cock, clothed only in a pair of thin boxers, and he jumps. "H-hey!" A hand grips at his bicep. "Remember, we used to do this when we were kids?" Wanda asks him, and Pietro laughs ruefully. "I don't think anything like, er, this happened when we were like, six." Wanda's eyes are supernaturally bright. "Would it be so bad if it did?" she asks, and Pietro means to find a suitable response to that (preferably "yes, because you're my sister, and this is like, ten shades of wrong, Wanda"), but then Wanda kisses him, just a chaste pressing of her lips to his, and it's so familiar, and she's his twin sister and he's just missed her so much -- Wanda is the one who takes it further, her hands coming up to grip at the sides of his head, her tongue sliding into his mouth. Pietro gasps wetly, and one of his hands snakes around towards his sister's breasts, pressed softly to his chest. He learns quickly that they're bare beneath her loose t-shirt, and she moans wantonly into his neck when he cups one, brushing his thumb across her puckered nipple. "Mmm, Pietro," she gasps, and he moves his other hand up to cup its mate, giving it the same treatment. Wanda kisses him again, and their tongue slide against each other for several seconds, before Wanda pulls back and then reaches between them. "Have you had sex with anyone yet, Pietro?" she asks him, and he groans. "N-not yet." "Me either," Wanda admits. Her fingers tug the fabric of her brother's boxers aside, eventually grasping at Pietro's cock. "Who do you like?" she asks, and it's kind of weird and conversational because she's kind of lightly jerking him off, but Pietro takes the question seriously. "No girls at school or anything," he says. "Lance likes Kitty Pryde, though, and I think Toad kinda likes you." "Well, I don't like him, even kinda," Wanda retorts, and Pietro giggles. "So ... do you like boys, then?" she asks, and the smile slips into a frown. "Are you crushing on Toad, or something?" she goads, and he practically gags. "As if!" Wanda's hand continues to lightly caress him, and he vacillates sharply, letting his head fall back. "I guess ... I kinda like Lance a bit," he offers, and Wanda laughs. "I could see that." She wiggles a little, reminding them both of what they're doing right now. "Will you touch me, too, Pietro?" she pleads, and he takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, releases it, and then nods. "O-Okay." Wanda rolls onto her side, and Pietro follows suit, facing his sister, helping Wanda to hitch a leg atop his. Slowly, tentatively, he reaches into her tiny pajama pants, surprised to discover that she's not wearing panties underneath. "Wanda," he says softly, and she moves forward to kiss him again. Wanda's pubic hair bristles against his hand, but he inches past it, eventually finding his sister's entrance and running his fingers along it teasingly, making Wanda squirm. "Yes, Pietro, yes," she whispers. Encouraged, he slips two fingers inside of her; it's hot and a bit sticky, and Wanda shudders as his fingertips stroke around her inner walls, and then moans outright as he begins to circulate one finger around her clit. "Love you ... I've missed you, Pietro," Wanda tells him, and her hand wraps around his cock and tugs a little anew. "Missed you so much." "I missed you, too," Pietro moans, and he buries his face in her neck and continues his ministrations, and she continues hers. He comes first, gasping against her throat, and smiles dizzily at his sister, whose face is warm to the touch. "Keep going," Wanda tells him, and Pietro does, his finger motions becoming more pronounced, his free hand moving to cup at Wanda's tit again. He hastily tugs her shirt up enough so that he can lick at her hardened nipples, and Wanda gasps and sighs and he can feel her entire body trembling now. "Almost ... almost there," she tells him, her voice quivering. "Don't stop, Pietro, don't ... k-keep going ..." "I'm here," Pietro murmurs to her, and he can tell Wanda's really close because she's tensed up absolutely everywhere, but her hips buck desperately against his fingers. "I'm here, Sis," he tells her, and leans in to kiss her again, tongue sliding between her teeth, and that's when Wanda finally comes, moaning and crying out and heaving herself into Pietro's arms to ride out the aftermath. "There," Pietro tells her, and she looks up at him and smiles. "There," she repeats, and nuzzles his shoulder with the side of her face. Burrowing down, Pietro kicks at the blankets until there's enough to spread over the both of them. The room smells faintly of what just transpired, but he doesn't really mind. "Goodnight, Pietro," she says sleepily, and Pietro closes his eyes as his head hits the pillow beneath it. "Goodnight, Wanda," he replies; and as the rain continues to beat down Pietro's window, they can ignore it in favor of snuggling against one another, just like they used to do when they were kids; and if Lance or Toad or anyone else should ask why Wanda's coming out of his bedroom the next morning, looking like she'd slept there the night before, they both know that they'll just smile and shrug that it's a twin thing. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!