𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖑 𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙𝖘

- 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎

"Piet?" You whispered, peering into the darkened room.
"Yeah?" You felt wind on your neck, and a prescience to accompany the voice. You turned around and jumped, your friend's face a mere breath away from your own.
"Jeez, Piet. Personal space."
"Sorry," he smiled, taking a step back.
"Yeah, yeah. Let's go, we're gonna be late."

"(Y/N)! Come look!" Pietro called from the corner of the training room. You jogged over, looking around.
     "What?" You couldn't seem to spot anything.
     Pietro laughed and put his knuckles beneath your chin, tilting your head up. You saw Clint in his makeshift nest after you got over the feeling of Pietro's skin on your own.
     "Pietro, personal space. We've talked about this," you managed to get out, flustered. He rolled his eyes.
     "You are so obsessive over personal space. What is wrong with a little closeness?"
     "Nothing, Piet. It's just... I'm not a very open person. I have my own personal bubble sort of thing."
     "You need to open up."
     "Are you my therapist now?" You sniggered.
     "If I need to be, yes," he spoke with complete seriousness.
     "Come on, Piet. I'm fine."
     He frowned.
     "I'll get you to open up to me."
     "Yeah, sure thing," you shook your head. It would never happen.

"Quick, (Y/N)! Grab my hand, there is no time to lose!" Pietro sped up to you, holding out his hand.
"What? Why?" Your eyes darted around the room, and you took his hand.
You looked back at him, and noticed the smug grin on his face.
"What'd you do?" You glared.
"I got you to hold my hand. See? Who needs a 'personal bubble' when you can have this?" He squeezed your hand gently. You pulled away, blushing.
"I don't like physical contact. I don't... I don't like it," you muttered. Pietro frowned.
"I was close, yes?"
"What do you mean?"
"I almost got you to like it."
"Piet—"
"No time to lose, remember? I must plan."
     "Seriously Pietro, why are y—"
     He darted off in a streak of blue. You sighed.

"And then he goes 'well I'm sure.'" You know how much I hate snarky burglars, so I give him the worst wedgie he's ever had in his life and hand him over to the cops," Tony completed his story, smirking.
     It was dinner time, and the Avengers were gathered in Tony's dining room. You sat next to Pietro, who was munching happily on his food.
     "Tony, we talked about this. Just give him to—"
     "Oh, shut it, Capsicle. He was asking for it."
     Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated.
     "Steve, I'd be careful. Next time, Tony'll take it out on you," Clint nodded knowingly.
     You laughed, then flinched when you felt something touch your leg.
     You peeked under the table to see Pietro's thigh resting against your own.
You glared at him. He refused to meet your gaze, but you saw the self-satisfied grin he attempted to smother creeping onto his face.
You angrily moved away from him, your chair screeching.
The group looked at you.
"What?" You snarled, and you immediately wished you could take it back. You didn't mean to be rude.
"Nothing. Jeez, what's up with you? I'd chalk it up to the fact that you're hungry, but your plate says otherwise," Tony chucked, nodding at your empty dish.
You frowned at him.
"Sorry!" He raised his eyebrows and put up his hands, surrendering. "Just... trying to lighten the tension."
"I'm gonna go," you excused yourself. You stood up, and before you could leave, felt Pietro's broad shoulder brush your arm.
"Oh my god!" You turned on him, furious. He looked up at you, eyes wide.
"That time, I did not mean it. That was not on purpose," he rushed to explain.
"I'm sure," you mocked, stalking out of the room.
"Oh boy. You really fvcked up big time, Draco."
"It's Pietro," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Just because I am blonde with an accent does not mean—"
"Yeah, yeah. Go get her."
You rushed to your room, knowing full well you would never outrun him.
     You weren't shocked, when a streak of blue flashed beside you, and Pietro appeared, his arms folded and his face stoic.
     "Leave me alone, Pietro," You snarled, about to walk around him. His arm shot out and blocked you. The feel of his arm on your body made you recoil. You pretended not to see the hurt in his eyes.
     "Why?" He breathed. "Why do you resist touch?"
     You exhaled.
     "Follow me."
     You and Pietro went to your room, and you closed the door behind you. You took a seat on the bed. Pietro sat in your desk chair across the room.
     "Pietro... you want to know why I told you I have no powers?" You began quietly.  
     "Because you have no powers?"
     "It was to protect you." 
     "What? So... you have abilities? Like me?" Pietro looked almost hopeful. It made you smile slightly.
     "Pietro... my powers are... dangerous. I can..."
     He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his legs.
    "I can blow things up. With my hands."
     His eyes widened, and you noticed how blue they were for the seemingly first time.
     "I cause things to... combust. I kept blowing things up when I was younger, smaller things, but things all the same. The Avengers took me in, right after S.H.I.E.L.D. found me. Apparently... apparently they were going to kill me, but Steve said he wouldn't let that happen. That's why I hold a grudge against S.H.I.E.L.D. Anyway, I've hated touching people because I might..." you paused, unable to continue.
     Pietro stood up and took a seat on the bed next to you.
     "I've been able to control them for so long... but sometimes I get worried that something will happen. I don't know how... but... what if I lose control? I could hurt everyone."
     "So..." Pietro spoke softly. "You're scared you'll hurt me? But I can just stop, it's fine."
     "That's the thing," you whispered. "I don't want you to stop."
     Pietro's head turned so fast you saw a streak of blue. You swallowed.
      "All my life I've avoided touching people. Whenever I make contact it just feels wrong. But... what bothers me about your touch is that... it feels right."
     Pietro leaned forward and paused, his lips a breath away.
     "I don't want to hurt you," you breathed.
     "You won't," he murmured.
     He gently brushed his lips against yours. You closed your eyes. You felt a sudden sense of foreboding, and moved away.
"(Y/N)—"
"I can't."
"Yes, you can." He pressed his mouth firmly against your own, his hands coming up to run through your hair. You didn't expect him to kiss you—well, really kiss you—and you were caught unaware. Gradually, you allowed him to put a hand on your lower back and pull you closer. He did it so fast he fell backwards onto the bed, with you on top. Everywhere your body made contact with him, you felt a spark. It was beautiful.
"Yo, (Y/N), I—woaaah..." Clint's voice forced you to break away from Pietro, who had somehow ended up straddling you with your arms wrapped around his neck.
"It's... there's... nothing's happening," you rushed to explain.
"Mhm. I'm sure," Clint said dryly.
"So... can you not tell anyone? Please?" You begged.
"(Y/N), when you ask like that... no. Absolutely not. The whole team's finding out by tomorrow. Augh, this is great!" Clint practically skipped out of the room, cackling maniacally.
"Sorry?" Pietro grimaced, the blonde ends of his hair surrounding his face like a halo.
"Thanks, Piet. You helped me. A lot. More than you know."
He winked, shifting so he could sit up.
"I'm glad."
"Good. So am I. For the first time in a long time."

Heyyy wassup.
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I might publish a Bucky one next (y'all can tell I love my bby plum) but I'm also doing one inspired by an amazing show I started watching like 36 hours ago and I'm on season two I'm so hyped omg but anyway yeah it's Brooklyn Nine-Nine go watch it now okay bye :)