Marvel And Melanated Imagines (ongoing)

you up? | pietro maximoff

You couldn't believe it! You were now officially Pietro's girlfriend, and it all began with him coming to your flat, injured.

Well, that's one way to get a boyfriend, you thought sarcastically. After Pietro announced you were now his girlfriend, you demanded he take a shower and then you'd dress his wounds. He was still currently in the shower, though you were sure he was taking a little longer than necessary.

Maybe I should go check on him.

He could be unconscious for all you know, or maybe it was hard to shower, what with the wounds. You bit your bottom lip, worrying it to the point of nearly bleeding, and then you decided.

Standing up, you laid the TV remote beside you and stood up, walking out of the living room and to the bathroom. Making sure to knock loud enough for him to hear you, you waited for a response, and when none came, you called out.

 "Pietro!"

Still, nothing came, and worried, you hurriedly opened the door- only to be met with an unexpected sight, though one that wasn't unpleasant. He was standing there, in the shower, leaning against the wall. His back was arched slightly, eyes screwed shut and mouth parted a little in a silent gasp. One hand was clenched tightly in a fist, arm thrown across his forehead, while the other hand worked his hardened length.

Upon hearing the door open, his eyes snapped open and he looked over at you, wide and startled, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have been- and in a way, he had been. Your mouth gaped open, closed, gaped open, and then closed again, deciding to keep it shut this time, frightened to find out what other noises may come out instead of words.

You were unsure of what to do though. Should you apologize? You had walked in a private moment of his but in all fairness to yourself, you hadn't known this was a private moment. You hadn't expected him to be doing such a thing, and in your own bathroom, in your shower nonetheless. So...

"Uhp," You squeaked out, coughed and then tried again, more serious this time, "If you cum in my shampoo I'm gonna strangle you, that shit is like fifteen dollars."

Then you walked out, quickly shutting the door behind you. You felt hot and bothered suddenly, the image of him working himself still fresh in your mind, and oh god! He was injured, you should not be having such thoughts!

...

You sat there, on your bed, the covers flown over you, pressed tightly into your sides. Your eyes stared wide up at the ceiling above you. The image of Pietro, wet and naked, just wouldn't leave your head, and you were so close to screaming.

I just want to sleep, is that so much to ask for?

The glisten of pale skin, eyes screwed shut in pleasure, mouth opened for a silent gasp, tight-muscled body under the wet droplets-. You huffed and turned on your side, letting your arm fall onto the other side. You dreaded closing your eyes, the image popping up the second you did so, but you needed sleep. You had to get up early tomorrow, and the last thing you wanted — and needed — was to fall asleep every couple of minutes because you never slept the night before.

So you closed your eyes and tried to focus on something else; you thought about what you were going to do tomorrow, about the people you may be meeting, focusing a little on their faces, their voices, and slowly, you felt yourself relax, your muscles becoming less tense and your eyes becoming more heavy. You were just about to sleep... and then-.

"Y/N? You up?"

Your eyes snapped open, and you turned half-way, body twisting a little to look, and then you sat up when you saw the figure was there. Instantly you were met with the limping figure of Pietro, who didn't bother waiting for a reply, walking over to you anyway.