Pietro Maximoff Fics

A heavy rainfall blurred Pietro's vision, but he was able to see the telltale sign of the vigilante's work. Her work, the perpetual thorn in his side. A ghost haunting his waking and dream state.

The lifeless body of yet another one of New York’s worst was artfully posed in doll clothes. Garish make up made the hit all the more gruesome. But it was most likely deserved.

"I've got one." Pietro rubbed his temples. It was Sunday night, he had class in the morning, and his ever demanding lab partner, albeit smart and always right, would not appreciate him sleeping through it.

“Cold case?" Nat asked through the comms, though he knew she already knew the answer.

Pietro looked to the old evidence box propped under the corpses arm. It had been thoughtfully tied in a clear trash bag.

"She checked the weather," Pietro murmured and went to read the name on the crumbling cardboard box. "Rag doll murders?"

“One sec." Nat typed for a moment. "Serial killer from the 70s. How old does he look?"

Pietro squinted before just wiping the buildup of water from his eyes. “Definitely looks old enough. Probably about 90."

“I'll alert Captain Baylor. It is one of the evidence boxes that was stolen a few months ago. How long do you think he's been there?"

"Considering this is a very successful brunch spot's alleyway, and nobody reported anything until 9 tonight, not too long. Do I really have to wait for Baylor to show with his gym bros?"

"Yes, Pietro," Nat sighed. He asked every time, and the answer was always the same.

Pietro wanted to whine. Why him? Why did he get assigned to the new local Avengers task force? Lucky for him Baylor and company were always quick hoping to get any sign of her.

Most of the time they were too late, but sometimes she waited. And as if his thoughts summoned her, her mocking, sultry voice came from above.

"Oh boys.” All guns aimed toward a fire escape with no sign of her. "I did your job, again. You're welcome.” She was perched, cross-legged on the tower of empty milk crates next to the body. Almost floating on them.

Pietro crept back, as her attention focused on Baylor. She was quick to notice, but she made no move as Baylor threatened injury for the fifth time that month.

Twelfth since the beginning of the year and it was only April.

She pouted, somehow conveying puppy dog eyes from behind her mask. "While I love to engage in some verbal sparring, this has gotten repetitive. You’re going to arrest me? Shoot me? You want to work on a compromise?" She yawned loudly. "I must get—" She was gone in a blink.

"Fuck." Baylor kicked the crates over.

"Going." She was back on the fire escape grinning down at them before bouncing up the steps to her inevitable escape. Bullets or not.

"Maximoff!” Baylor barked. "What are you waiting for? Make yourself useful."

Pietro gritted his teeth as Nat also warned him to keep it to himself. This was why he was on this specific assignment. He was the only one who could keep up with the vigilante. She didn’t have super speed, just the ability to appear where she pleased and become non-corporeal as she saw fit.

"You think you got her this time?" Nat wondered.

“Yes,” Pietro grunted as he sped after the pain in his ass.

She teased him from rooftop to rooftop, always being one step ahead and disappearing when he got ahold of any part of her.

Each time she goaded him. "So close… Come and get me… You almost had me… Don't you just want to, I don't know, ahh—” she had mimed choking herself with gleeful glint behind the mask.

Pietro growled.

"She's really leading you on a chase tonight,” Nat mused. Pietro could hear a bag open over the coms.

"Are you seriously eating right now?" Pietro groaned.

"This is my scheduled programming, Pietro. It's entertaining. It definitely needs a snack." He could imagine Nat kicking up her feet on the desk watching his live camera feed as he scrambled after the vigilante.

Pietro watched her jump through a boarded window of an abandoned warehouse. It only took a few seconds for her to be on him when he entered. She had been ready for him to look for her. He cursed himself as her arms wound around his neck and her legs constricted around his arms and torso.

She shimmied his optical camera frame behind his head and tossed it out a broken window.

“I’ve lost visual.” Nat sounded disappointed, not concerned.  

Pietro flung himself back onto the floor and the vigilante disappeared. His spine painfully crashed onto the concrete.

"Oof, that looked like it hurt." The vigilante was solid again, standing over him. He pulled her calves out from underneath her. She fell onto him, and he quickly rolled her over, pinning her wrists above her head.

Every fiber of Pietro came alive with the feeling of her chest breathing deeply underneath him.

"Truce?" she offered with a small smile.

Pietro growled in response.

"That's a no." She was infuriating. Always so sure she was winning the game, and she was as she basically turned to smoke underneath him. His face landed on the cool, saw dust covered floor.

She stood a few feet away waiting for his first move. Ready to let him have a fair fight. Well, as fair as she deemed. Balanced was a better term. Her ability combined with his superspeed made it rare for full contact hits.

So, when Pietro's elbow collided with her cheek bone at a neck breaking speed, eliciting a guttural gasp of shock from her, he hesitated. Only for her quickly retaliate by giving him a high tick to his ear, knocking out his comms. Her foot came down and shattered it.

"What the fuck?" Pietro clutched his ear as she gingerly touched her already bruised and swollen cheekbone.

"I could say the same to you." She showed no remorse, she only glowered at him. "We agreed, no head shots."

"I agreed to no such thing," Pietro snorted. The ringing in his ear was starting to subside. But it was going to ache for a few days if he had to hazard a guess.

"Foreplay,” she teased and cocked her head at him as they began to slowly circle each other. Waiting for an opening.

"That is not what—” Pietro was unable to finish his sentence as her solid form latched onto him. Her mouth crashing onto his and her fingers wound into his hair, sharply pulling his head back.

A low moan vibrated in Pietro's throat, and he felt his weight shift, become weightless, and then come back heavier. His stomach dropped as he free-fell four feet onto a blanket laden bed. She never even noticed, though he was sure that it was second nature to her now.

Her lips trailed feverishly down to the hollow of his neck. He grazed the curve of her ass.

"I'm still turning you in," he grunted as she worked all his weaknesses.

He felt her lips smile against his pulse point. "You say that every time.” Her hand trailed down his abdomen and it took everything in Pietro to not drive his cock into her hand.

"I mean it." he insisted, "You are a nuisance to my life. I would finally be able to have a weekend off.”

 “What fun would that be?” she nipped at his ear.

“You are exhausting,” Pietro continued sliding his hands up her sides to unzip her fitted jacket, exposing only a sports bra. He unzipped that too. "And a literal pain in my ass. I should be turning you in right now to Baylor."

"Mmhh, you're no walk in the park either. If you and your silly avengers wouldn't meddle, I would have cleared all the cases NYPD has left to rot." She dipped her hand into his joggers. Pietro hissed, broke, and rolled into her. She tightened her legs around him.

“Instead, I find myself constantly distracted," she panted as he circled one of her nipples.

"You like me?" Pietro teased and pulled back. This earned him narrowed eyes through her mask and an almost too tight squeeze below.

"Don't flatter yourself. I don't like you, just what you do to me,” she snapped.

"Good, we're on the same page.”

"Pants off,” she ordered a kneeling back onto her heels, removing her clothing with no pretenses. "Everything off.”

"This is the last time.” Pietro was telling himself as much her. The guilt was already starting to set into his stomach. He would probably vomit after this. He should say no to her. He should have never engaged the first time. And all ten times after that.

But seeing her exposed to him it was almost like home. Her shape was nearly identical to yours. The scars were different, and she had a tattoo on the side of her rib cage. A small raven with a series of roman numeral under its talons.

It has been the snow-white hair and movements that had made him hesitate their first encounter, resulting in his ass kicking. It had looked like Hale. But on the next encounter when he had got her in a headlock, he could tell the structure was all wrong to be you.

He didn't know whether to be relieved that you weren't hiding from him or cry that his hope had died. That night he drank a lot, destroyed a few sparring dummies, and didn't leave his bed until the vigilante’s next act. Which was how they had fallen into this pattern.

Fight. Delude himself with her familiar shape. Snap, argue, fuck, and regret.

"You say that every time.” She lounged back on her pillows, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I mean it this time," he grunted, stripping himself.  She made an unconvinced humming agreement as she soaked in the sight of him.

For a second Pietro could have sworn he saw a glimmer of sadness, but it was quickly replaced with a devilish smile as she hooked her legs around his waist pulling him to her.

Pietro switched off his logical thinking and closed his eyes. He could almost make it believable that it was you by feel. Almost. Which is why when they finished and she shifted him just out of sight of the Avengers tower, he promptly vomited in the alleyway.

Nat checked in on him when he came upstairs, and his lie was already prepared. It was the same one every time, the vigilante shifted him to Buffalo of all places.

Each step Pietro took towards your old, shared room had his stomach eating itself. He dove into the shower, the water scalding as he scrubbed his skin raw, trying to wash his guilt away. It was only marginally helpful.

"Better than nothing," he said to his reflection, wet tendrils of silver hair falling into his eyes.

Once he was dry and the guilt was only a dull ache, he went back into the bedroom and opened the top drawer of your dresser, pulling a long chain with two rings looped on it. He never wore it when he was dealing with the vigilante.

      Your engagement ring and the ruby ring Pietro had given to Wanda that had been gifted back to him settled over his sternum. A familiar pulse of energy seeped into him.

His hand came to rest over the rings as he murmured a million apologies for the past, present, and future.

****

 A sharp pen jabbed into Pietro’s side, startling him awake.

"You're drooling,” his lab partner, Harmony, hissed. He blearily blinked at her in her lab coat and safety goggles. Had he slept through the instructions?

 "Sorry,” he apologized, donning his own gear.

She shoved her notes at him and started setting up their equipment. He skimmed over them. Not too complicated.

"Rough night?" she asked eyeing the beaker in front of her.

Pietro snorted. "You could say that."

"Coffee after to wrap up our notes?” she offered.

"I need to eat something." Pietro's stomach sounded in agreement.

"That can be arranged.” Harmony smiled and Pietro returned it, feeling a small semblance of normal for the first time in twenty-four hours. "But first I really need you to try and focus and not burn yourself.”

"That can be arranged,” he repeated her words.

****

Pietro watched her from the corner of his eye as Harmony glanced over their lab report. Her dark hair pulled atop her head in a messy bun and the circles under her eyes told him she also had a rough night. That was doubly confirmed when she violently rubbed her eyes.

"Late night." He turned to her, his knee brushing hers but neither bothered separating.

She groaned. "I was studying for that psych exam and then I fell asleep in my contacts".

"That exam isn't for another 3 weeks.” Pietro rolled his eyes.

"And you should be studying too you know," she sing-songed.

"And you shouldn't be studying so hard. Don't you work too? You’re a live-in nanny, right?”

"Yes, but I get the weekends off. Unlike somebody else I know.” Harmony joked.  “I'm assuming you were out avenging last night?" She set aside their notes.

"Avenging." Pietro mused, his head falling back as he struggled to push down the creeping guilt.

"You seem to get a lot of local assignments now. When did that happen?"

Pietro peeked open an eye at her. "As compared to?"

She went quiet and was now very interested in their lab notes again.

"Are you keeping tabs on me?" Pietro rose an eyebrow at her.

Harmony pursed her lips. "No. I just happen to have some friends who are really into Avenger's blogs."

"Are these friends at the table with us now?”

"Shut it," she grumbled. Pietro leaned forward, playfully narrowing his eyes at her.

"No, please tell me about these blogs."

Harmony became a shade paler as her eyes fixated at the center of his chest.

"Hey, what—” He looked down to see the chain had slipped out from his shirt, the rings on full display. Her hand was half extended as her eyes warred with on indiscernible emotion.

Pietro clasped his hand around the rings, and he tucked them back into his shirt. She blinked and forced a relaxed smile. He swallowed hard as the guilt hit full force.

"My—My fiancée died a few years ago."

"Oh.” Harmony ducked her head down.

"She was an avenger too."

"I'm so sorry." And Pietro knew she meant it when she looked back up at him, her eyes filled with sincerity.  "It's a beautiful ring. I'm sure she spent countless hours looking at it.”

"She did.” His leg began to bounce as he tried to shake the feeling a grief. It had not got any easier as the years passed by.

"I—I should go,” she stammered hastily packing her book bag. "My nanny kid has dance lessons after school, and I need to get that bag packed up. See you around, yeah?"

Pietro felt something was wrong, but she was she was already out the door before he could press her about it. A sharp pulse of energy shocked his sternum.

 He hissed and looked to the ruby ring that glowed a moment before returning to be unseeming.

2032 

The nightmares had returned once again for Pietro. It had been a week since living the worst day of his life for the second time. He had done a good job blacking out the first time of finding you nearly lifeless. The second time was just as, if not more horrifying. Pietro was messing with time. 

What if he had done something wrong in the past and his present turned out different? What if you hadn’t made it? What would he have returned to? 

It was inconsequential to agonize over the what ifs as his present remained as he had left it. You were sleeping contently in his arms. 

Pietro would count the rise and fall of your chest to try and lull him back to sleep. If he were able to untangle yourself from his grip, he would lay on the floor of each of his children’s bedrooms and focus on the sound of their breathing. He would let the sound sooth the swirling anxiety in his chest. 

Everyone was safe and together. It had taken blood, tears, and sacrifice, but his family was whole. 

Guilt at the particular cost it was to you haunted Pietro all these years later. You had been at the peak of your career with no intention of giving that up. But now you got too anxious to leave the bubble of safety you had created. 

His only relief was that you still remotely consulted for your old business with your free time and that Jemma was a frequent guest at the farm. Your family was another story, but it was at their loss they didn’t want to keep in contact. 

Fear, anxiety, guilt, anger in that short span of time had Pietro slipping from your grasp as gently as he could. He couldn’t lay still anymore. It didn’t matter that it was three in the morning.

“Piet?” You murmured, your eyes peeking open at him. 

“Can’t sleep.” He leaned over and kissed you softly. 

You moved to sit up but his hands came to rest on your shoulders. 

“Sleep draga, please.” 

You made a disgruntled noise, but listened to your husband and sunk back under the covers. “Fine, but only because you demanded nicely.” 

He breathed a small laugh against your lips. “Don’t worry about the chores, sleep in.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quick to silence with a deeper kiss. 

He pulled back, smirking at your placated expression. 

“You win,” you yawned with a small pout. “But please wake me for your shower.” 

“Deal.” He grinned and got dressed to head outside. You were already fast asleep again by the time he left the bedroom. 

The brisk morning air settling over the farm was just what Pietro needed to clear the whirlwind of emotions brewing in him. It was easy to focus in on the mornings tasks knowing it would mean that there was less on your plate for the day. 

Pietro went at a natural human pace, taking the time and care you did when tending to the chores. The chickens got fed, eggs were collected, and the garden watered. A few items were ripe for the picking and Pietro went in search of a basket in the nearby garden shed, which was more of a challenge than he expected.

“Where in the world, draga?” he murmured to himself

He turned to look on the other lower shelf when the cry of a baby had him freezing in place. It wasn’t his nephew.

A second cry broke through the tree line, sending Pietro rocketing to his feet and into the forest. 

It had been 13 years since he had physically heard those cries, but they echoed in his nightmares. 

In the clearing where Aurek practiced his jumps, knelt a familiar figure clutching two babies. 

“Y/N,” Pietro lunched forward and tilted your face up to his. The air left his lungs as your younger face stared dazed up at him, visible relief in your eyes. It was short lived as you became pale and started to sway. 

“Take them,” you choked out. He quickly grabbed the twins as you turned away and wretched. 

“Time sickness,” he said sympathetically as he bounced his children gently in his arms, their cries lowering to a whine. 

“Time sickness?” you coughed around another wretch. 

“It takes some getting used to, and he took you pretty far.” 

“Aurek?” 

“He must have locked onto his own signature from a recent jump.” Pietro nodded to the yawning baby in his arms. 

“What year is it?” 

“2032.” 

“2032?” You cried out. “I came all the way from—” 

“2018.” 

“Why are you so calm about this?” You were on the edge of a panic attack. “How am I going to get back? You’re probably tearing apart the world right now.” 

“I am,” Pietro chuckled, half amused. “But, now, in 2032, I am relieved to know that all this time you were with me.” 

“I don’t tell you?”

Pietro furrowed his brows, quiet for a moment. “You don’t remember this. All you remember was that you were safe.”

“I don’t remember?” You echoed, concerned. 

“Just like you didn’t remember the night you were taken.” 

“That is just trauma,” you joked shakily. 

He frowned, the trauma was more fresh for him than it was your past self. You were two months out from it and hell bent on finding the twins. He was only a week out and dealing with the aftermath of those same twins seeing their mother on death’s door. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t something he could just take them to therapy for. There were therapists provided by the government for those with special abilities. Those who worked for them that is. And you and him were keeping the twins as far away from the government as possible. 

As far as the government knew, the twins’ powers never developed. Pietro, Wanda, and Vision were retired and definitely not spending their spare time tracking Hydra hideouts. And you definitely hadn’t retained a mild ability to heal yourself. 

You all just ran a small produce farm. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when baby Aliz started to whine. 

“She’s probably hungry. Wanda should have some formula we can use.” It was like riding a bike for him, falling back into baby mode. “Are you okay to walk?”

****

It was the quietest whisper, but your son’s voice pulled you from your dead sleep. 

“Mom,” he whispered again. 

“Yes, cel?” you answered groggily. 

“I… you shouldn’t worry…” 

You sat up straight to look at Aurek in standing at the end of your bed in the dim morning light. “You saying that makes me worry.”

He nodded apologetically. “I felt a time shift nearby.” 

You shot out of bed to your closet. 

“Mom.” 

You pulled on a hoodie and grabbed your running shoes. 

“Mom! Slow down,”Aurek approached cautiously. 

“Go get your dad.” You dove under the bed for the gun safe.

“Mom, stop. We’re not under attack.” He pulled you up off the floor, surprisingly strong for a 14 year old.

“We don’t know—” 

“It’s me,” he blurted. 

You paused. “What do you mean?” 

“The shift, it felt like me.” 

“If another you is shifting here that means you—” you headed to leave the room but Pietro’s form blocked the door frame. 

“Draga?” Pietro asked, concern laced his voice as he watched your wide eyes. 

“Aurek said he felt another of himself—” you said rapidly. 

For the second time that night Pietro’s hands came to rest on your shoulders. “Breathe. I promise everything is okay,” he insisted, not breaking eye contact.

“But—” 

“I promise,“ Pietro repeated. 

You nodded. 

He looked over your shoulder to Aurek. “I will explain everything later, go back to bed.” And without turning around to look behind him. “You too Aliz.” 

“There’s another Aurek?” She piped up from the hallway. 

“Later, I promise. Now back to bed, or hangout in the house if you can’t go back to bed.” 

The twins grumbled a bit, but did as they were told. 

“Is he okay, Piet?” You asked once the twins were out of ear shot. 

Pietro smiled tenderly down at you, cupping your cheek in his hand. “Yes, draga. They’ll be happy to see you.”

Aliz too. You didn’t have to ask. Where Aurek went, Aliz was usually by his side.

****

A sob tore through you. You had been expecting to see an older set of twins. Seeing two little babies in a bassinet was a surprise you weren’t prepared for. Pietro’s arms were supporting you upright as you let out the long feelings of heartbreak of lost time with the twins when they were that little. 

“Piet,” you croaked. 

“I know,” he soothed, his own voice strained. 

“They came on their own?” 

“No, you’re asleep in the Wanda’s guest room. The time shift will probably have you wiped out for the whole day.”

“Oh.” You looked over your shoulder to see him watching you intensely. 

“Oh?” 

You shrugged, trying to tamp down the weird sensation of jealousy and insecurity about your younger self. 

“Draga.” Pietro persisted. 

You turned back to the twins to hide your burning face from him. “Did she kiss you?” 

“You mean did you kiss me? She is you.”

“Yeah, 13 years younger me. And if I was time shifted without any knowledge to an unknown place I would probably kiss you immediately on sight.” 

“Are you jealous of yourself?” He barked a laugh, startling the sleeping twins awake. 

“No,” you huffed and scooped up the twins before they could start crying. And they didn’t, what little whimpers that had started quieted at your cuddling. 

“I mean I have kissed that you before. 13 years ago. And every version of you before and after. But no, you didn’t kiss me. And I doubt you could fault yourself if you did.” 

You settled onto the couch, watching the twins settle back to sleep on your chest. Still you avoided his eyes, missing  his soft but amused look. 

“If a younger version of you came here and kissed me, how would you feel?” You finally replied, jerking your chin at him.

Pietro snorted. “Good for me. Although, while I’ve always been a great kisser, I don’t think my younger self could match up to my ability now.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Really, Piet?” 

His eyes twinkled as you met his, it paired with the wicked grin he sported. “That and other things.”

“Things, huh?” 

“I’ve been with you 15 years, any past Pietro would have less experience, less intimate knowledge of you.” 

You flushed, though finally not from embarrassment. 

He held your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to look him directly in my eye. “And any younger Pietro would be lucky enough to be under the guidance of my skilled—” 

“You’re disgusting.” Wanda strode in, nose wrinkled, her own newborn nestled in her arms. “And in front of the children.” 

Pietro hadn’t dropped his grip on you or turned to look at his sister, his eyes just danced mischievously at you. “They do not understand.”

“Okay, so in front of your sister?” Wanda argued exasperatedly. 

“You were not here until five seconds ago.” He finally released you, but was quick to sit himself next to you on the couch. His arm coming around your shoulders. “Can’t you just be happy your brother is a doting and loving husband to your best friend?” 

“Not when I can hear you,” her eyes narrowed in on Pietro. “And you are never subtle.”

“It’s not his strong suit, no,” you chuckled. Wanda brightened at the comradery. 

“How are you?” 

“Shocked, but comforted. All these years we wondered where we went and if we had truly been safe. To know now that we went to the safest place of all is a dream come true.” 

“Are you going to be okay when—”

Pietro frowned at Wanda, silencing her. 

“When my younger self inevitably leaves with the twins? I’ll be okay,” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes. “I lost out on early motherhood, and it’s a treat to even get a taste of it again. But more than anything, them going back to their timeline is what I want most.” 

You looked to Pietro, tears pooling even more. “Knowing Pietro is alone, worried sick about us hurts more than lost time. Because it was also his lost time in the worst way. I actually feel guilty knowing that I was here. Like I got double the time he lost.” 

“Draga, no. Thank you for thinking of me, but do not feel guilty. I would rather lose time and you get quadruple of it and be safe, than the risk of you being somewhere unsafe.” 

Any words you could think of to express your love and gratitude for him choked in your throat. 

Your tears spilled freely. In happiness. In sadness. In despair. In years of guilt. In love. 

“I know, draga, I know,” he murmured into your hair. 

Wanda came to your other side and rested her head onto your shoulder. “Forgive yourself, it’s been too long.” 

You shook your head. You didn’t think you could ever forgive yourself for leaving the tower that day. No matter how many times Pietro had told you he had forgiven you the moment he had found out. 

The prestigious doctors Tony had wanted you to schmooze were an easy conversation for two reasons. 

One being you were a medical professional yourself. You were just a nurse practitioner in terms of your degree, but they were curious about how you used it in the field as an Avenger. Two, you were a walking medical miracle. 

The serum had made you not only able to let your body heal itself, but heal others. Though the latter was to a certain extent and you had learned that the hard way. 

The rule now was to stabilize with your powers if necessary, then treat medically until out of combat. Your powers could be depleted if you used them extensively on others, to the point your body is unable to heal yourself. 

Bucky slid up to your side with another drink after a few minutes. He inclined his head to you and you nodded in return. 

You would be okay… eventually. Would your heartache last for a few months? Yes. Pietro had been a fixation in your life for the last 2 years. You had never even entertained the thought of trying to be with someone else, officially or casually.

Why would you? You trusted no one outside of your team. At the rate it took to trust someone, it would be a decade before you’d be able to even try. You’d probably have to up your therapy sessions now too. 

When the band started up after their break, Bucky excused the pair of you and pulled you over to the dance floor. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly. 

You shrugged, trying to ignore the sting returning to your eyes. “I basically told him I loved him, and then I broke it off.” 

“Did he say anything?” 

“No, he didn’t seem to know what to say.” Your voice was tight. “And when he did, I kept spewing my feelings at him. Like if I didn’t get it all out it was going to eat me alive.” 

“And how do you feel now?” Bucky glanced over your shoulder, face neutral at whoever he made eye contact with. 

“Is it pathetic of me to feel empty? How could I become so dependent on him? After everything that’s happened to me?” 

Bucky’s gaze softened on you. “Y/N, you’re not pathetic. You love Pietro, and he isn’t your ex. It’s okay that you are attached to him.” 

You hummed in response, not knowing what else to say. 

“I am going to give you my observation, okay? Pietro loves you too.”

You started to disagree. 

Bucky shook his head. “He has been stalking you since the moment you came back out here. His eyes have not left you. I’ve been watching him circle this atrium, ignore his date, and try to approach you multiple times.” 

“I told you, he’s possessive.”

“Why would he be if he didn’t love you? Sure, some other men out there may be possessive without love, but I’ve seen how protective he is of you too. On missions, he’s not ever far from you. And, I bet if I start putting the moves on you again he’s going to stop being a scared-cat and finally come over here.” 

“I’m just that good in bed is all, he doesn’t want to lose that,” you joked, though the words sounded hollow to your ears. 

Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled you in closer as he dipped his heads towards you. 

You didn’t even have time to pull your head back as you were swept into the arms of Pietro and on the other side of the dance floor. 

Bucky gave you a look that was clearly an ‘I told you so’ and went back to the bar.

“I don’t share, Y/N. I’ve told you this,” Pietro growled and it made your knees weak. Why was him being a possessive asshole hot to you? 

“And I thought I told you it was best for us to end whatever this is?” You gave him a pointed look. 

“So you jump right on the next available teammate?” 

“Sure, that’s what that was,” you spat. “Bucky is my new fuck buddy.” 

Pietro paused from leading you around the dance floor and narrowed his eyes in on you, searching for something. 

You stuck your chin out at him and didn’t speak a word. He could be the one to determine if that was true or not. If that was what he thought of you, so be it. 

“I’m selfish,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been selfish with you and I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“Saying for everything would be an easy out, but you deserve more than that.” His hand delicately curled into your waist. Your instincts screamed to move closer to him, to create more contact.

“You can start with bringing my own personal nemesis to this event, and starving me beforehand. I can’t scarf down the hors d’oeuvres without worrying I am going to end up on the ‘don’t’ section of their ‘Do’s and Don’ts’ column,” you replied, throwing a glare at Sierra who was already glaring at you. 

“You may end up in that section anyway for stealing her date.” He grinned teasingly down at you and your heart raced. It felt friendly in a way it hadn’t been for a long time. 

“Her date actually stole me from mine, why do they always blame women for men’s actions?” You scowled.

“Are you really here with Barnes officially?” 

“I would ask you the same thing about Lineheart, but I saw you physically recoil from her.” You rose your eyebrows at him. 

He had the decency to appear a little bit guilty. “I’m sorry for bringing her to get a rise out of you. I now realize what a bad idea that was.” 

“Wow, an apology and confession.” 

“Are you really here with Barnes?” Pietro insisted on knowing. 

“Well considering you made it so I would not remember this event was coming up—”

“I’m only half-sorry for that. The second half that is, when I didn’t remind you. The initial distraction I am quite proud of.” He cocked his head at you, watching the heat spread up your neck and cheeks. 

You shook your head to clear your thoughts. “No, I’m not here with Bucky. He found me while I was avoiding you and offered to help make you jealous.”

The flash of relief was apparent in Pietro’s eyes. “Because it looked very convincing.”

“Well, that is part of our jobs some days. Acting convincing. You and I have done it many times before.” 

The pair of you had done a few undercover missions that required you to be a couple. It was usually the most fun you had doing a job. 

“Yeah, but I like to think it’s because we have something real going on too.” Pietro’s thumb started stroking your side, making it difficult to not melt into him.

“I’m sure it helped for you, as apparently you are terrible at acting. But it was all a show to make you jealous. Which is immature, I know. But fight fire with fire. It got the point across didn’t it?” 

“Were you jealous?” Pietro asked, spinning you around again. 

“Truthfully, no.” You frowned and he frowned back at you. “I was more hurt than anything, and then I knew you were trying to make me jealous so I was pissed off.”

“I’m an idiot.” 

“Why would you even want me to be jealous, Pietro? It’s not like I’ve been the one pushing you away,” you said sharply. 

Pietro sighed and pulled you off the dance floor. “Can we go talk somewhere more quiet? I’ve fucked up this all up, and I don’t want to cross our wires wrong anymore.” 

“Yeah, I know a place.” 

****

“How did you know about this?” Pietro glanced around the rooftop garden, empty and off limits for this event. 

“I attended a S.H.I.E.L.D. event here a lifetime ago.” You took a swig from the bottle of champagne you stole from the kitchen on the way. 

Last time you had been up here, your parents and ex were in attendance and everything was seemingly perfect. Your ex was still a secret hydra agent the whole time after all.

“I hope it was a happy time.” 

“If I forget all that happened after, sure,” you said with a small laugh and handed the bottle to Pietro, who graciously accepted. “Not that I would want too, completely,” you added quietly.

“Y/N,” he started, turning to face you. You still looked out over the city, unsure and scared of what was going to be said. “I wish I could take back this last year.” 

You sucked in a sharp breath as an ache started to spread across through your chest. 

“After I am almost died for the second time in my life, I got scared for many reasons. And I didn’t handle it well. Do you know why I got hurt?” 

You shook your head, not trusting your voice at that moment. 

“I hesitated between you and Wanda. It took me a day or two to figure that out. I was going for Wanda but then I saw a gun on you and I changed course.” 

“I would have been fine,” you assured him. “I was fine.” 

“Which scared me even more. I know you will be fine 99% of the time. But in that moment all I could think about was protecting you. That what if that time it was the 1% of the time you wouldn’t be fine?” 

“Unlikely, but I get that.” You turned to him and met his intense gaze. “There is a 75% chance you’ll be fine, but that 25% feels so much bigger.” 

Pietro nodded and continued, “In that moment, you became more of a priority than Wanda, and that scared me. It still scares me. She has been my priority since we were children, but you overroad that. It felt like I betrayed her.” 

“Is that why she’s been mad at me since then?” You frowned. It had been hard to lose the close relationship with Wanda while Pietro was also pushing you away. 

“No. She’s mad at your for not breaking it off with me after I started pushing you away. She thinks you deserved better.” 

“The both of you are terrible at communication,” you mused, and turned back to look over the city. 

“Which brings me to also why I’ve been ass.” Pietro took a deep breath. 

“An astronomical ass,” you agreed. 

“Astronomical, yes. What scares me the most is loving you and losing you.” Your gaze snapped back to him, dumbfounded. “I thought that if I just pushed you away enough, I would never have to risk feeling that. I tried to quit you cold turkey, but I’m selfish and can’t go a week without your touch. I’m so selfish that I don’t want—”

“Wait—” 

“To see you with any other man. I don’t want another man to even—” 

“Pietro, wait—” 

“touch or flirt with you. But I realize now, I was going to lose you even more if I pushed you away.  I love you and I hurt you, and I’m so—” 

You covered his mouth with your hand, stunning him into silence. “You love me?” 

His quirked an eyebrow at you and pulled your hand away from his mouth. “Yes, I love you. What little I had of you was the only thing keeping me sane. But it was also driving me insane. It was torture to leave you abruptly every time when all I wanted to do was burrow further into you and never leave.” 

A shudder ran up your spine and Pietro smirked. You were simultaneously relieved, joyful, and annoyed at the same time at that look. 

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” You smacked his shoulder. “When has pretending not to love someone ever worked? We’ve watched movies together where the hero hurts the love interest to protect them, and it doesn’t work.” 

“Well, those love interests weren’t also superheroes,” Pietro defended himself. 

“Do superheroes not also have feelings?” 

Pietro rolled his eyes. “Like you said, I’m an idiot.” 

“A fucking idiot,” you corrected. 

“You make me one, honestly,” he chuckled and reached out to caress your cheek.  “But it was more than a selfish decision too. Just so you know.” His thumbs brushed your cheek bones, leaving trails of tingling skin. “I got hurt and then you got hurt trying to help me. I thought pulling away would stop whatever we had going on and you would be safe if you were less inclined to save my ass.” 

“It was my decision to make!” you said, letting your annoyance penetrate every syllable. 

“Yes, but we didn’t know at the time that your powers can be drained. You may have been less likely to jump straight into a line of fire if I got hurt again.” 

“You’ve watched too many hero movies now that I think about it. So much so that you think like the hero. Doubting how stubborn the love interest is.” You narrowed your eyes at his amused expression. “Not realizing that as strongly as the hero feels for the love interest, the love interest feels just as much. That she would crawl through broken glass to save the hero.” 

“And I ask that you promise me not to, dragoste.” His hand slide onto the back of your neck and he pulled you flush to him. His heat welcome in the cool summer air. “It hurts me more to see you hurt because of me.” 

“Well, you’re going to have to learn to live without that promise.” You brushed your lips against his. “Would you make the same promise to me?” 

A rumble of disagreement vibrated in his chest and he held you tighter. “I can’t make that promise.” 

“Well, it appears we are at an impasse.” 

“Can we just agree not to get hurt as much as possible?” Pietro nuzzled into your neck, his hands skating down your spine. 

“I think I can try,” you snorted, tilting your head back to give him full access to you neck. 

“If you let me, I will love you with my whole being. I’ve been biting—” he nipped as the crook of your neck and you yelped. “—at the bit to do so for so long.” 

“I think the phrase is ‘champing at the bit’,” you breathlessly teased. “But I think I can be inclined to let you love me. Would you mind showing me?” 

Pietro pulled away momentarily, resulting in an annoyed grunt from you. 

“Were you going to let Barnes kiss you?” His eyes were dark and molten on yours. 

“If I said yes, you would get even more possessive and it’s kind of hot. But no, I was going to pull away when you intervened to keep me to yourself. Because I love you, Pietro.” 

“I can’t believe he was going to kiss you.” Pietro came back to your neck and his hands fiddled with the silk of your dress just above your ass. “And while you are painfully beautiful in your dress, I would much rather see you out of it.” 

****

Y/N Y/L/N CAUSING RIFT IN AVENGERS 

Tensions were high at last night’s Stark Industries gala. Y/N Y/L/N, a.k.a. Vitality, was seen to be getting extremely cozy with not only Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. Winter Soldier, but also Pietro Maximoff, a.k.a. Quicksilver. Our source says Y/L/N was all over Barnes at the beginning of the night until Maximoff almost came to blows with his teammate over her. How many more teammates has Y/L/N—

Your phone was ripped from your hands and tossed onto the nightstand. You looked up to see Pietro, only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and holding the morning’s provisions he had just gone in search of.

“Do not read that garbage,” he chided, “She’s going to be up your ass for a bit but she’ll get bored.” 

“She is not going to let this go anytime soon, Piet. You poked the proverbial bear by basically ghosting her.  And she saw us leave together!” 

“Everyone saw us leave together, because I wanted them to,” Pietro admitted and slid the plate over to you. It was an assortment of fruits and a couple of bagels. 

“Well you succeeded. I will avoid the internet for the foreseeable future. Your fangirls are going to have a field day with me,” you sighed and stifled a yawn. 

Pietro’s eyes tracked your movements and trailed to your bare backside. “I could get used to this.” 

“Used to what?” you played dumb, wanting to hear the answer. 

“You naked in our bed every morning.” 

You paused from grabbing a strawberry. “Our bed?” 

“You’re moving into my room,” he stated, sliding up over your back and ghosting his lips over your shoulder before he bit down at the base of your neck. 

You did you best not to gurgle in response. That spot always sent every nerve into a frenzy. 

“I will not spend another night or morning away from you, if I can help it,” he murmured and gripped your hip bones in his warm, skillful hands.

“Your moving this fast, huh Maximoff?” you tried to keep a level tone, but your voice still came out breathy as he pinned you further to mattress under his weight. 

“This,” he emphasized by pressing himself into your backside, letting you feel just what he meant, “has been going on for two years, dragoste. So not fast at all. Besides, some things don’t need to be fast. I can be quite good at taking things slow, as you know.” 

His teeth nibbled at you again. “I know all to well, you are torturously slow sometimes,” you panted. 

“You love the result though, no?” His lips began to trail down your back. 

You bit back a moan as he hiked your hips up, ass in the air. His fingers dancing dangerously over you clit. You tried to push again him, but he quickly held you in place.

“So eager, dragoste? It’s only been an hour.” 

You growled in frustration. “Wipe that smirk off your face, Pietro.” 

“You can’t even see my face,” he argued. 

“Oh, eat me.”

“Gladly,” he grinned, “after you answer my question.” 

“Of course,” you whined, aching from the teasing. 

“Good girl.”

His mouth was on you before you could even moan from being called a good girl. 

****

“Alright, who won?” Tony looked around to the team that had made it to the kitchen that morning. 

“Won what?” Nat asked.

“The bet.” 

“What bet?” 

“For how long it would take Pietro and Y/N to acknowledge their feelings and go public. I had 1 year since we placed the bet, we’re at 10 months since the bet.” Tony looked to Wanda, Steve, and Bruce. 

“You guys knew?” Nat gaped at them. 

“You didn’t?” Steve was shocked. “Nat, even I could see it.” 

“No, Steve knows only because he was unfortunate to walk in on them in the sparing room onetime. They did not notice,” Tony rolled eyes. 

“And you Bruce?” Nat asked, she couldn’t believe she’d not seen it.

“I was unfortunate to walk in on them in the med bay once after a missions, they did not notice.” Bruce grimaced. “I just needed a bandaid.” 

“All I needed to see was their constant fuck me eyes to know. It sometimes can come off as playful or antagonistic looks, but they may be one and the same for them.” Tony shrugged. 

“Well, I lost. I thought it would only take a month for them to work their shit out,” Wanda groaned. 

“I had six months, so that puts me four months off,” Steve sighed. 

“I had three months, I had more faith in them than I should have,” Bruce conceded.

“Well that makes me the winner. They are both stubborn idiots. What’s our next wager? When to expect a mini-avenger now that they are bound to be stupid-in-love idiots?” Tony teased. 

“Not funny, Stark,” Nat grunted.

***

It was hard to not be bewitched by him. His half-lidded were partially obscured by a mess white-blonde hair, and his lips parted as he panted and tried not to fall apart below you.

But maybe it wasn't exactly him? Maybe the power you had to do this to him was bewitching? It was a slightly comforting thought. It put you in control. 

You pushed his hair back, lacing your fingers through and pulling.

Pietro moaned and tightened his grip on your hips making you hum in appreciation. You tugged his head to the side to expose the underside of his sharp jawline.

Your lips latched to the sensitive dip just below his ear and jaw.

A string of curses in his native tongue vibrated in his throat. Something about you and the devil. Your Sokovian was still pretty basic.

Your hips collided at a more frantic pace and you unrelentingly nipped and sucked as you gave a rough tug of his hair for good measure.

 "Fuck." English this time. “Fuck!

His hips stuttered and slowed. You continued to roll your hips, repaying the favor of him teasing out your own orgasm just moments earlier. You relished the way his thumps swirled lazily on your hip bones as he caught his breath.

Against your better judgment, you curled into him, chests rising and falling rapidly into one another.

"We have a brief in an hour." Pietro burst the bubble. He was already detangling himself from you, leaving apprehension in his wake as you kept yourself from locking your limbs around him.

"Yeah, I should probably go Shower." You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and looked down to your knees. It was getting harder to ignore the storm of emotion swirling in your chest.

Post-sex tended to end this way now.  You need to nuzzle into Pietro afterwards was near desperate.

But he didn't like that. It was clingy. At least for your casual arrangement. Friends with benefits. Snuggling beyond the haze of orgasms was over the friend line. This was just a convenience.

Neither of you had to go out and find a stranger when the urges hit. There was no need for the small talk and making sure the one-night stand wasn't a psycho.

Pietro was here and you were just down the hall. You trusted one another and knew each other’s likes and dislikes. And importantly, unbelievably sexually compatible.

…Aside from your need to be held afterwards.

In a quick breeze, your clothes landed in a pile next to you. Pietro had already retreated into the bathroom by the time you looked up.

Getting dressed was you second least favorite part. Half of your hookups occurred post training or missions. Your clothes were either still damp with sweat or dirty, and sometimes both.

With running Shoes in hand, you padded barefoot down the hall to your own suite. But not without escaping the judging eyes of Wanda. She leaned against her doorframe, as if expecting you to walk by.

"A little extra training, Y/N?" Wanda prodded.

Heat rushed to your face. "Just some extra weight training." 

"We were supposed to get showered and get lunch before the brief." Wanda narrowed her eyes at you. "Of which neither you and my brother did.”

“Really needed, uh, a spotter. We lost track of time. But we still had enough time for both."

Wanda rolled her eyes and retreated into her and Vis' room, not wanting to get into an endless argument about Pietro and you again. The last time you had, Wanda ignored you for two weeks. 

****

In the end, you did not have time for both a shower and eating lunch. You had wasted too much time overthinking and compartmentalizing in the shower.

With your hair still sopping wet and wearing a pair of mismatching socks, you raced to the conference room. 

All eyes went to you. Apparently, you were the last to show and the most unkempt.

"I feel asleep," you said dumbly.

“In the shower?" Tony quirked an eyebrow. 

“So, what if I did?" you snapped, surprising yourself and the team. At least three set of eyebrows had crept into hairlines. "Sorry, just tired is all.”

You avoided Pietro's gaze. It was searing into your chest. You rushed to your seat next to Nat. 

"Are you going to be okay for tonight?" Steve asked, concern creeping into his voice. 

"Tonight?" you echoed, looking to Nat, hoping for some clarity. The look you she gave you was not at all helpful. Her eyes loudly asked why the hell you didn't know.

"The Stark Industry sponsored charity gala with the highlight of all the Avengers showing up. The gala you promised me you'd make it to three months ago." Tony turned to inspect you. 

"I did?" You didn't recall even talking to Tony about it.

Pietro covering a laugh with a cough broke your internal scramble. "Sorry, has to clear my throat.”

 Your phone buzzed and you looked down to see a text from the culprit himself.

PIETRO:  🤖✊✊✊🚪😜😻😜🐈🥵🤫🥵🫢😫🫨

That made sense, it you vaguely remember with that play by play. Tony had come to talk to you about something when Pietro was short circuiting your mental state.

You had been trying to sound normal as Tony spoke with you through the door. But Pietro was unrelenting with his head burrowed between your legs. It was truly a miracle you could even get a coherent word out.

Your memory was rendered useless as you were on the edge of an Earth-shaking climax. Pietro had to throw his hand over your mouth to muffle your cry.

"I did!” You confirmed with a confidence you did not feel. "Sorry, I have a hard time with my memory."

This earned an eye roll from Wanda. To be fair to yourself, your short-term memory was a bit fuzzy. Some things were worse off after your fall from the helicarrier in DC in 2014. Namely memory, at least not strong memories, and anxiety. 

“What are we raising money for again?" Nat interrupted the uncomfortable silence that had crept in when everyone knew enough as to why you memory was not that great. 

"Local shelters,” Tony shrugged. "Pepper would be able to put together a more thorough list if you want?"

"And you want us to what exactly?” Steve said, “Since we are the highlight?"

"Schmooze your ass off. You should be good at that, it's your origin story." Tony grinned. 

Steve shook his head. "It's at least for a good cause." 

"When you say we, does that include Parker? "Bucky asked. 

"My dutiful intern Peter Parker, who is not a part of the Avengers, and a very normal college kid. No." Tony played clueless.

" And spiderman?" Bucky added for clarification.

"Out trapezing his neighborhood, looking to stop crime. I don't know what Spiderman has to do with any of us. Sure, he'll help out occasionally, but he's his own separate entity."

"An ally," you mused.

Tony clapped. " Yes, thank you. Ally. Our ally Spiderman will not be in attendance tonight. But my intern Peter Parker and his friends who have no association with said Spiderman will be.” 

****

"I can't believe you forgot". Nat rummaged through her closet, trying to find something that would fit you.

"I forget a lot of things these days,” you responded, distracted as you sat on her bed thumbing through a magazine.

"How is that, by the way? You've failed to bring up that it was still a big issue." Nat narrowed her eyes at a cream-colored gown then shook her head. The gown landed on top of a growing mound of rejected dresses.

"How come Clint isn't subjected to this?" You whined, stopping on an absurd article.

"You changed the subject. And Clint has a family and life outside of our shenanigans."

You chewed the inside of your cheek as your eyes involuntarily stung.

"Shit." Nat groaned. "Y/N. I'm so sorry.” 

"No, it's fine, really." You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to shake away the encapsulating grief. "It's been a decade, and you and Clint are my family. And you should be the last person to feel sorry for me." You focused back on the page. Nat had gone through 100 times the hell you had.

Sure, you had lost everything but your own life, barely, that day. But you and your parents had assumed the risk working for S.H.I.E.L.D..

They could have retired early and been professors in their studies. You could have lived nearby working as a nurse at the hospital. Not quiet, but not deadly. Most importantly, they would still be alive. 

"They would be happy you survived and your ability—” Nat’s eyes caught on a shimmery, deep ocean blue, silk number and she grinned. "Perfect."

You hardly looked but agreed. Your eyes returned to being unfocused on the article.

"Y/N, what is so interesting?" Nat look over your shoulder. "Thirteen delightfully devious ways to blow his mind! Pique your interest there?” Nat smirked. The gown now hung from the full-length mirror in the corner of her room. 

"Yeah right," you snorted. It was both a defense and a disguise. "Just keeping up with my peers.”

"I'm pretty sure your peers are not writing these articles. I cannot see anyone nearly in their 30s recommending to glue rhinestones around their pubic hair."

"Fair." You chucked the magazine and sized up the dress. "You know when I signed up to join the Avengers, I didn't see anything about being paraded around for money."

"You didn't sign shit. So now we're at the will and mercy of Stark because he funds our lifestyles. It can be fun. Though, I guess you don't have a date if you didn't know." 

"Why would I need a date? As far as I'm concerned, I'm working." Your brows furrowed as you looked to Nat who was watching you closely.

"To help with conversation.”

"Do you have a date?”

‘No, of course not. Bucky and I are teaming up though. Which I realize may be a mistake now that I remember he is terrible at small talk,” Nat groaned. 

You laughed at this. “So why don’t I go with one of the team?” A small voice inside whispered Pietro’s name. 

"Thor is off planet."

"Lucky bastard."

"Bruce is tasked with trying to secure some data from a bioengineer."

"I can help Br—” 

"No. I don't want you anywhere near Bruce for this. This bioengineer may have ties with Hydra—” 

"Steve's gotta be available?” You quickly put the conversation back on the safer side.

"Steve is hitting up the major politicians and defense contractors with Sam. They are great for their PR. This would make you more visible if you joined." 

You tensed. "That leaves Pietro and Peter. Platonically and professionally, of course.” 

"Parker is not teaming up with any of us. You heard Stark, Parker’s just his intern. We don't want him associated closely to the Avengers,” she reminded you. "Besides, he'll have his girlfriend and friend with him. It'd be weird for you to hang out with college kids you supposedly barely know.” 

“So, Pietro can be my date then.” You tried your best not to sound too pleased. 

"I think he's taking that woman that writes the articles about him in that gossip magazine."

It was a bucket of ice water over your head. "That bitch?! The one who wrote that article about me being the most boring and clumsy Avenger featuring a picture of me spilling ice coffee on myself after a super sweaty, hot yoga class!?” 

"Woah! It was just one article, right?" Nat shook her head, taken aback by your outburst.

"Oh no, far more unflattering pictures and articles. Somehow, it's only me getting the negative press. Why the fuck would he bring her? When he knows—” you cut yourself off to take a calming breath. "It'll be fine. But I swear to god, if a picture of me stuffing my mouth full of shrimp cocktails is featured next week, I will kill him."

"Relax, I don't think they could even get an unflattering photo of you in this if they tried." Nat held out the dress, grinning.

****

Nat may have been right. If Steve did a double take, in a very well-mannered, gentleman way, this dress was something. 

The silk accentuated your shape and, in a daring first time move, you ignored the discomfort at having your scars exposed. The dress was backless with silk pooling in a “U” just above your ass. The cut outs at the curves of your hips trailed to just tastefully under your breasts. The slit up one leg reached your upper thigh. A small section of burns was visible if you settled your leg just right. 

The large mass of your puckered skin did not see the light of day outside the tower. They were obvious and hard to ignore. The events leading up to the fall, and the fall itself, had imprinted on you in far too many ways.

"You look beautiful," Steve offered.

"Thank you." You graciously accepted for once in your life.

"Handsome as always boys." You included Bucky and Sam in this. Bucky you'd never seen out of sweats and black jeans for years. Him in a suit was quite jarring, in a good way of course.

"This does not look productive,” Tony teased, walking into the group with Pepper and Morgan. “These people aren't going to schmooze themselves."

"If I hear the word Schmooze one more time,” you murmured to Nat.

A low chuckle sounded behind you, and you turned to see the eerily groomed speedster in a tailored suit. The sight made you freeze and thankfully he was as dumbstruck by you. All the heat rose to your cheeks.

"Where's your date?" Pietro cocked his head, biting back a sly grin.

"You're an asshole for many reasons. This being one of them. You very well know—” You hissed, but caught sight of Sierra Lineheart, the damn gossip reporter, heading Pietro's way with two drinks in hand. 

This was your queue to bolt in the opposite direction. If she couldn't see you, she couldn't report on you.

****

You were relieved to catch sight of 3 familiar college students standing next to a server with a tray of bruschetta. MJ was the first to notice your presence. 

"Oh, hey Y/N. Long time no see."

"Hey, how's college?" You snagged a piece from the tray, wolfing it down in a single bite. God you were hungry. Why were you so hungry? Oh, right, you had let a stupidly sexy man distract you this morning.  

This was all Pietro’s fault, he had made you miss lunch and he had basically made you blindsided by this event so you had no time to eat. 

If Sierra Lineheart weren’t here, you would probably go to each tray and scarf down a few servings. So, your hunger was even more Pietro’s fault. 

"College, you know how it is." Ned shrugged. You actually didn't, but nonetheless. You snuck another piece of bruschetta from the tray. 

"Everything good?" Peter looked around suspiciously.

"Why wouldn’t it be?" You breathed, smoothing your free hand down the front of your dress.

"You seem very jumpy. Are you okay?"

"Do I? Yeah? Crowds. People. You know? Ahh! I, uh, need some fresh air." Your hands flailed as you talked, sending some of the tomatoes tumbling off the crostini. Peter snatched it out of your hand before it could do any damage. "Thanks. See you later."

You made a beeline for the balcony. It was thankfully empty as you gasped for air. Why were you upset suddenly? What was there to be emotional about?

You turned to go back inside but saw Sierra on Pietro's arm, a dazzling smile set naturally on her face as Pietro chatted energetically with the couple in front of them.

His gaze moved over to your direction, sending you diving behind a large potted plant.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called out and footsteps headed your direction. “Did I just see you tactical roll into a shrub?” 

You thanked the heavens that it was Bucky. He was the least likely person to mention it to anyone else. 

“No,” you groaned from your hiding spot.

“You're avoiding somebody." It wasn't a question. It didn't have to be when you were crouched behind a shrub. 

"Yes," you sighed.

Bucky extended his hand out to you. "You shouldn't hide. Especially in that dress.” 

If it wasn’t Bucky, you'd think it was flirting. He was just a straightforward guy, and you knew him well enough to call him a friend. 

"You're avoiding too." you argued but took his hand. He gently pulled you to your feet and out from behind the shrub.

“Yes, but it's everybody. Not a someone. I’m pretty sure our reasons are quite different." Bucky peered behind you through the glass doors. “Who could be sending our brave YIN into this state?"

"Brave?" you snorted. "Not brave."

Bucky frowned. "I've seen you throw yourself into an active combat zone without a thought, to heal one of us on many occasions.”

"It isn't brave when I know that I'll come out alive 99 percent of the time." 

“It still hurts you and it still leaves scars." Bucky nodded to the small bullet wound just under your left clavicle…one of your many. "And I remember… that day… in DC."

You flinched and wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I saw you try to save your parents from him. I heard him offer to spare you and bring him with you if you let him do his mission. I heard that you loved him, but you still fought him. You took the serum and threw yourself—” 

"Stop! In the end it didn't matter!” The tears were threatening to spill over. “It didn't save them."

"I'm sorry I didn't do anything to help." Bucky’s eyes were soft and full of regret when they shouldn’t have been. 

This caused a hysterical giggle to escape you. "Bucky, that wasn't you. You didn't even remember Steve and he's your best friend. I was a stranger who wasn't on the right side of the mission and actively trying to thwart Hydra. I'm lucky you didn't step in a try to help kill me. I don't accept your apology because you don't owe me one."

"Fair, and I have to accept that," Bucky mused.

"Therapy?"

"My own personal list." He smiled wryly. 

"Well thanks for thinking of me though. If you were you, you would have helped, and that's what matters." 

"So let me help you now.” Bucky nudged you with his shoulder. “What can I do to make you not hide in a corner, and try and enjoy the night?" 

You looked back into the ballroom. You easily caught the bright white hair in crowd. Pietro was looking bored into the distance as his date talked to some benefactor. "I don't know, just keep me—”

Sierra reached over to sensual run her hand up his bicep and he tensed, his face twisting in a brief sneer of disgust. You paused as the gears started to turn in your brain. Pietro recovered and forced on the fakest smile you had ever seen him give.

"That mother fucker!" You threw your hands in the air. "Oh my god, he's an idiot!"

"I'm sorry, who?" 

"Pietro. He brought that gossip column woman as his date. He's trying to make me jealous." 

"Jealous?" Bucky looked back and forth to the speedster and you, piecing it together. "Are you dating?” 

"Exclusively casual,” you seethed, "for a while. But right now, it appears he’s messing that up by thinking it'd be a good idea to make me jealous. Especially with her. Wanting me to believe he would choose her over me?" 

"That is stupid and highly childish,” Bucky observed.

You scoffed in agreement. 

"Want to return the favor?" He tilted his head in Pietro's direction.

"How so?"

Bucky gave you a mischievous grin. 

 "A taste of his own medicine."

****

Bucky guided you to the bar, his hand resting on the small of your bare back. Your path happened to be directly in front of Pietro.

It was innocent to Pietro's sight at first. He immediately fixed his gaze on you when you'd come back in. He was drinking you in, while attempting to put in more of an effort not to not look annoyed by his date. 

But then Pietro’s eyes noticed Bucky's hand placement and your proximity, and his lips twisted into a sneer. You gave a relaxed smile and leaned into Bucky's touch. 

"This may be too easy. He's ridiculously possessive,” you murmured. 

"And you’re only being casual, why?"

"It was hard for me to trust men in that sense. Pietro was my friend. I trusted him enough. But not enough to consider a relationship. Pietro also has trust issues. It was a mutual attraction and it just made sense.”

"And now? What's changed?" Bucky helped you into the bar stool, quietly ordering two Manhattans.

"We’ve been in this, whatever this is, for almost two years. One day he just started being distant.  Like I was just a one night stand each time. I don't think I can call us friends anymore. Our interactions are limited to work, antagonizing each other, and sex with no intimacy. I don't even know if there is a point anymore—” You took a deep breath and caught Bucky's frown. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I just vomited all that information on you. I should keep that to my therapist or finally get the courage to talk to Nat about it. You don't want to hear my ridic—” 

"Y/N, " Bucky interrupted, placing your drink in your hand and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He had to pointedly ignore the glare starting to burn holes in his skull. "It is okay. It's definitely my 100-year-old man energy that makes you open up. And I'd like to think we're friends." 

"I think we are."

"So, let me just put something out there, if you'll let me?” Bucky said softly. 

“I'll allow it."

"You love Pietro."

You nearly choked on your drink. "What?" 

"You've been exclusive for so long and even though he's been emotionally distant, you still stayed. If you didn't love him, you'd stop the arrangement because you're fed up."

"I-I, no, I don't think, I'm able to—" you scrambled to try and dissuade him from making any sense of your inner turmoil.

"You're scared, but not for the reasons you think. For once it's not because of your past. It's just normal. You're scared he may not feel the same, and that's okay. But maybe it's time you tell him?” 

You rose an eyebrow at him, preparing to deflect. "You sound like a therapist.”

"You'd rather just his game than? Play jealously chicken until you obliterate your arrangement?" Bucky's tone was a warning.

"Yes,” you sniffed, feigning indifference. 

"Okay." He watched you for a moment before giving you a warm smile. "As long as that's what you want. I won't mind pissing off Speedy."

You turned your body towards him, letting your thigh touch the inside of his. 

"He started it," you breezed. "And with the worst person."

"Just remember that he is also going to be angry with you once this is all over,” Bucky grabbed your hand a placed a kiss on your palm.

"I'm already angry. So good. At least you're in on this. She thinks Pietro likes her. And I'm going to be the victim of the wrath if she finds out he used her for me."

You twirled Bucky's hand in your own, lacing your fingers together on top of the bar.

"He is ready to murder me," Bucky whispered in your ear. It looked pretty damning to anyone watching.

His hand trailed to touch the brush your hair from the back of your neck. One would think it would cause a rush of excitement being touched this way by Bucky. But it was not at all what you wanted. You would have been a puddle if it were Pietro. You leaned into Bucky’s touch to put on a show and looked up at him through your lashes.

“Not surprised, he does not like to share,” you smirked. 

"You're good. But what are the odds he takes a swing at me?" Bucky’s thumb brushed your jawline. 

"If you keep this up, highly likely. Though he has no right. He's made it abundantly clear tonight that it is nothing more than casual."

"What is going on here?" Nat saddled up the pair of you, looking back and forth.

"Act supportive," you said through a smile, placing a hand on Bucky's chest. "I'll explain later."

Shit, Nat was going to be pissed when she knew. But only because you kept it from her for a whole two years. Nat mimicked your bright smile and embraced the pair of you. "Why do I have a feeling I am going to want to kick your ass, Y/N?" she hissed.

"It'll be a funny story, so long as nobody else gets their asses kicked tonight."

"I make no promises. If he swings, I am going to swing back. I'm not going to let him get a hit in. He’ll become even more cocky,” Bucky said into your hair.

"I know, I wouldn't expect anything else of you Bucky. It'll be his fault. He brought her.”

Nat leaned casually against the bar, trying to glean something to clue her in to the conversation. She clocked the glare of a speedster with the conniving, piss poor example of a journalist in his company. Sierra was currently oblivious to Pietro's fixation.

"Y/N," Nat said through gritted teeth, "please, for the love of god, do not tell me you trying to make Pietro Maximoff jealous. Of all the people."

"I don't have to tell you. You just said it,” you mumbled into your drink. 

"It's definitely working, he is eyeing me up." Bucky's hand went down to rest on your bare skin above your hip. 

"He’s probably trying to remember which of your arms detaches.”

Bucky put on a good show of a real laugh, but it cut off abruptly. "If he tries that, Y/N, I will beat the shit out of him.” 

You grimaced, maybe employing Bucky as your fake date was not a great idea. Pietro while improving, was still impulsive. 

And he had been adamant that he didn't share…

Inserting Bucky may have been an explosive detonating in your face.

"Why would he even be jealous? It's not like you two—wait, are you two dating?" Nat glared at you.

"No." 

"Exclusively casual is how she explained to me,” Bucky offered.

"That's honestly worse. You're fuck buddies? Since when?"

You tensed under your friend’s judgment.  “Awhile."

"Y/N!”

"2 years,” Bucky added.

"I told you that in confidence!" You gaped at him.

"2 years?" Nat's voice rose. "All this time I've been trying to get you to hook up with anyone. But you've been with him, without any of us knowing?"

"Wanda does,” you grumbled.

"So, she's so cold with you because of this? You used to be friends, then you weren't?"

“She hasn't been too keen on the arrangement, no. Not sure—”

"Speedy is on the move," Bucky warned.

Pietro was nearly vibrating with rage as he approached. Sierra had to power walk to keep up with him. His eyes slid over Nat, to Bucky, and landed on you. His jaw clenched when he noted Bucky's hand still on your bare skin.

"Y/N, I'm sure you remember Sierra Lineheart. She does the Avengers articles. Sierra you know the team." Pietro never took his eyes off you.

"I'm very familiar. Good to see you all. Don’t worry, everything is off the record I am not here as press today." Sierra gave a giggle, leaning heavily into Pietro's side. He tensed and a wave of satisfaction crashed through you. That idiot. 

He really was trying to make you jealous. But he was not comfortable with her. She wasn't a good option because she wasn't in on it. And he didn't trust her. He'd made the wrong move.

"You two look like absolute lovebirds. A romance in the team?" Sierra was far too jovial. 

"How did this happen?" Pietro turned his icy glare on Bucky who gave a lazy smile in return.

"Yeah, you and Y/N? How could that happen?” It should have been an innocent question, but it felt like there was malicious intent behind it. Sierra had it out for you for one reason or another. 

"Y/N is beautiful, smart, and she really cares about people. What is there to happen?" Bucky twirled a lock of your hair absentmindedly and gave a pointed look at Pietro. "Remember that time she healed you in the—” 

Pietro paled a little as you felt the air rush out of your lungs at the mention of Pietro’s brush with death. Nat gripped your elbow, steadying the sway of your body. Bucky noticed and adjusted his hand further down your hip, squeezing to hold you in place.

A low growl rumbled in Pietro's chest; his trauma momentarily forgotten. That was his spot. 

Had he not just been holding you there 8 hours ago? He would bet a month’s salary that small bruises had started to form. You loved that.

“So, Y/N, what battle are those scars from? From what I 've heard, you're more of a medic. Like the team nurse?" Sierra nodded to the prominent scarring just above Bucky's grip.

Pietro whipped his head to Sierra, incredulous.

"What? She put them on display. She wants people to ask." Sierra rolled her eyes. 

Your jaw clicked. “Care to—” 

“Yeah, we're going to go.” Bucky tried to steer you away from Pietro and Sierra, but Pietro‘s hand was around your wrist in a blink. Bucky was now two feet back from you.

"Can I speak to you?" Pietro growled and cast a glance at Nat and Bucky standing offensively. "Privately.” 

You pulled your hand from his grasp and looked over his shoulder. Bucky made a hand gesture you interpreted as "go." 

"Sure,” you acquiesced, letting Pietro lead the way.

His private place was an empty coat check. A sign on the counter stated they would be back in ten minutes. Pietro closed the shutters and whirled on you.

"What was that?" His nostrils flared. "You can't seriously be here with Bucky?"

"And why not? He's a perfectly respectable man," you defended your fake relationship. You weren't going to be the first to fess up.

"He's old enough to be your great-grandpa!"

You rose an eyebrow. “On paper? Sure. Physically? No. Is that your only concern? If so—” You made to move for the door.

Pietro appeared in front of you, pinning you to door. 

You sighed and let your head fall back against the door. "I'm tired, Pietro. I'm tired of feeling like I’m just a warm body for you. I can't even call you a friend with benefits because we haven't been friends for a year."

Pietro looked at you sharply and opened his mouth to protest.

"When was the last we hung out outside of work or sex?” you interrupted. His answer was silence. “The day after you—” your voice got stuck in your throat. You cleared it and started over. 

“The day after you almost died and I saved you, we were so close. Then the following morning—” An exasperated laugh came out of you as you shook your head. “it—it was like I was nothing to you. Like I was a stranger after a one-night stand."

The tears began to prick the corner of your eyes. "And then you kept pushing me away. Then you’d pull me right back to get off. Then poof, get out. I'm an idiot for letting you. But I was fucking desperate for any piece of you, so I always did. And every time I convinced myself that you won’t just toss me aside like the last time."

The tears were spilling over now. "Then you brought HER here! When you very well know she has some weird vendetta against me." 

Pietro’s eyes were wide, but he still did not speak. 

"Why?" You croaked. "Isn't what you're doing already enough? What do you think you have to do to me?" You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I told you I loved you that night. Which is a bit unfair because I said it while you were sleeping. But I said it out loud. Which was a big step for me.” 

“Draga,” his said, his voice cracking. “I didn’t—” 

The door to the coat room shoved open behind you and Nat’s head peaked in. 

“Y/N? Tony’s looking for you. Something about some fancy doctor’s needing to be schmoozed with your medical knowledge.”

“Great.” You looked up at the ceiling, willing the waterworks to stop. “Thanks Nat.” You quickly made your escape. The room had started to feel like it was closing in around you. 

“Y/N,” Pietro whispered. “I—” 

“Don’t worry about it, Pietro. I understand okay. Best we just stop, right?”

You let go and walked away to do some goddamn schmoozing. 

****

We at least got to see old snippets of Pietro again

Does anybody else think Pietro isn’t Peter Maximoff either? He’s neither Pietro or Peter?

I feel like he’s asking too many questions and is too aware of what Wanda has done. She’s not even fully aware how she did it. But here he is asking how she kept the residents of Westview’s personalities for the most part? How did he know what their personalities were like?

He also doesn’t remember things correctly about their childhood. Or just evades her questions. Kinda sus.

2032

The sun had set and taken the summer heat with it. Your shaking hand held open a tattered paperback book that you had failed to distract yourself with. The mug of tea Wanda had brought you before she had gone to rest sat, untouched, on the patio table.

Wanda would have waited up with you, but being pregnant, she was exhausted by the time she and Vision wrangled your nephew to take a bath and got him to go to bed.  

Aurek wasn’t perfect at returning the second he had left. He was usually off by almost a whole twelve hours. They left at 3 PM, they wouldn’t be back till at least 2 AM. You could never sleep when they were away. Any mother would be anxious when her children weren’t safe at home. You remembered when you had late nights as a teenager.

Your mom would still be up, on the couch in the living room of your townhome, watching syndicated television. A bowl of popcorn sat half-eaten in her lap. Your father was always fast asleep in bed, but your mom couldn’t join him until you were safely in your own. It was amusing that even though you hadn’t spoken to your parents in years, you fell into your mom’s habits.

Though, it was more than that. Each time the twins were gone, you relived the gut-wrenching terror of losing them. It wasn’t as bad when they were just having sleepovers at a friend’s house, but there was still a little voice in your head saying somebody was going to take them away when you weren’t there to protect them. Even with years of therapy, the voice wouldn’t be silenced.

You glanced at your phone and noticed it was 1:30, time to make food. While time travel wiped everyone out, you had to carry the twins to bed like they were toddlers again, it made them ravenous.

Pietro and the kids favored brunch upon their return, and you were more than happy to whip it up for them. You always began to prep as soon as they departed, a welcome distraction.

A whole tray of homemade cinnamon rolls was always slipped into the oven just before their expected return. The smell of fresh baked goods was like a warm hug.

A soft knock alerted you to the presence of Wanda. She leaned in the doorway to the kitchen in a fuzzy robe and slippers. Her baby bump trying to poke its way out of the fabric.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You poured the boiling kettle over a waiting mug of chamomile tea leaves and slid it in front of your sister-in-law as she took a seat at the island.

“I had a foot stuck in my ribcage and then a series of Charlie horses in my calf. Then I thought about your cinnamon rolls, and my feet carried me the rest of the way.” Wanda smirked, but winced and pushed on her stomach.

“Braxton?” you wondered.

She nodded and then surveyed your mess. “Do you need any help?”

“Nope, you relax. You know me,” you chuckled dryly, “have to keep busy.” You picked up the colander of washed strawberries and began to cut them up mindlessly.

Wanda watched you with a touch of concern but did as she was told, and propped her feet up on the chair next to her. You handed her a bowl of strawberries.

“How did I end up with a sister as wonderful as you?”

“Your brother plays me like a fiddle, that’s how,” you teased.

Wanda scrunched up her face and pretended to gag herself. “I don’t miss living in the same house as you two, that’s for sure.”

“Aww, I loved being roomies with you and Vis. Don’t you miss the twins coming to wake you up in the morning?”

“Only when it was to wake me up for breakfast. It’s your cooking I love the most, and I still get that. So, it’s only a win for me.”

Wanda kept you company as you prepared the feast. Your nerves had also driven you to make an elaborate charcuterie board.

You glanced out the window as you were washing dishes and one second your backyard was empty, in another Pietro and the twins fell into the grass. Aurek’s landings still needed improvement too.

You let out a sigh of relief. No one looked injured. Though the impact of the return may require some icing for the next few days. Pietro pulled the twins up off the ground and helped them inside.

“Hey guys, just in time. The cinnamon rolls just got out of the oven.” You set them on the table in the breakfast nook. “I also picked straw—”

You were cut off by being pulled into the arms of Pietro, Aurek, and Aliz. They squeezed you tight, and they didn’t let go for about a solid minute. Aliz and Aurek turned their heads away, hastily wiping at their eyes.

You reached out to them and cupped their cheeks. “I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

They took a deep breath and looked over at the spread. Aliz went to reach for a piece of cheese when you noticed deep red stains on the underside of her sleeves.

You gasped sharply and froze. The hazy memory of Aliz standing over you, terrified and trying to hold you together as you bled out cut you to the core.

Pietro followed your gaze and started. “Aliz, would you mind cleaning up first?” Pietro gently asked. “You too, Aurek.”

Aliz noticed the blood and blanked, before tucking it into her side, out of your sight.

“I’ll help her,” Wanda slid out of her chair. “And start a load of laundry.”

“Thank you.” Pietro turned back to you and guided you to sit down. He kneeled in front of you and held your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

His eyes widened. “Draga.” Pietro kissed your hands. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I should have listened to you. I should have stayed in the tow—”

“No.” He shook his head. “We’ve been over this. Everything is fine now? Right? Aurek and Aliz are happy, well-adjusted kids. They don’t remember anything. We’re safe now.”

“They saw their mother basically disemboweled today.”

Pietro flinched. He had lived through that moment twice now. He had done a good job working through making peace with the first time. It only haunted him every once and a while.

Seeing you like that again was like opening an old wound and immediately dunking it in a vat of salt. “Don’t worry. We’ve created some resilient kids. They’ll be okay.”

****

2018

“I’m not completely sure yet, but I think her pregnancy mutated her DNA. It shows similar markers to yourself and Wanda.” Bruce explained to Pietro, motioning to a whole load of mumbo-jumbo that you still had a hard time understanding. Even after sitting in on a month of discussions.

“Is it permanent?” Pietro asked.

“Only time will be able to tell. I’ll run a blood test each month to see if anything changes.”

Your head perked up. You hadn’t thought to ask if it was permanent. You were so focused on training.

“Time,” you murmured to yourself.

They looked back to you, curious. “What about it?” Bruce wondered.

“I’m not a scientist, obviously, but I read in my pregnancy book that it takes two years after giving birth for your body to reset itself. Mentally and nutrient wise, at least. The phenomenon of quote-unquote Mom-brain is real, it’s an imbalance. Maybe, the mixing of mine and the twins’ DNA is like that on some level. My body had to adapt to their mutated DNA, so it mimicked it and maybe the healing abilities are a primitive defense mechanism to be able to protect them at all costs without them losing their food source?”

Bruce smiled. “That is a good theory. If it’s correct we should see a decline in your abilities over time. Slower healing time until you don’t heal abnormally at all. But why didn’t you heal after—” Bruce didn’t know how to finish that question, all the words he would use to describe what happened to you seemed insensitive.

The word butchered was the first one that popped to mind. He was afraid it would upset you and what Pietro would do to him if he did accidentally.

You understood what he meant though and paused. Why hadn’t you healed yourself? You tried to think back, but it was foggy at best.

“I had lost a lot of blood. There may be limitations as to how far my healing abilities can go. From the scarring—” you had to take a deep breath, “It seems it was a pretty, uh, gaping cut. Maybe, I had lost too much blood too quickly and my body can’t replenish at that level?”

Pietro stood frozen, pale, and nauseous. You noticed and slipped your hand into his.

“Um, we should turn in for the night. Thanks for giving the run-down, Bruce.” You pulled Pietro out of the lab and led him back to your bedroom.

Pietro recovered as he walked into your room for the first time in a while. When you had been taken, he couldn’t bear to sleep there alone.

When you were in the hospital, he didn’t leave your side until he had to follow a lead. Now, seeing the two bassinets where he had put them in hopes that the anomaly of the second baby being accurate, mocked him. His hope had been fulfilled, but fate was cruel.

What if they stayed empty forever? What if you got so hurt again looking for them, you wouldn’t heal and he lost you too? He would be a shell of a man. “Draga?”

You looked up from him, his tone making your stomach drop. “Piet?”

He rushed to you and delicately held your face in his hands. “Please, I beg of you, stay here. For me.”

“I can’t, I’ve been going crazy waiting for you to return and get out. I have to find them.”

“I can’t lose you, please let me handle this.” He stroked his thumbs over your cheekbones.  

“And do what, sit on my hands?”

“Go back to work, it will take your mind off all of this. I’m sure Jemma misses you and your work is important to you.”

You frowned. “I stepped down, Pietro. Jemma came to visit me after I woke up. I told her I couldn’t do it anymore, as much as I love working with my best friend, I’m not the same person anymore.”

“You gave up your dream?”

“I’m still an investor, and Tony was kind enough to invest too so Jemma can hire more people to help her run it. I will still consult when she needs it. But the day to day stuff I’m done with.”

“Y/N,” his voice cracked, “you worked so hard. I don’t want to be the reason you—”

“Shh, Piet,” you placed your hands over his, “You’re not the reason. When we find the twins, I want to go into hiding. I’ve talked to Clint about how he set everything up for Laura. I want to purchase a house and land nearby, so I have somebody I can trust.”

“You’re safe here,” Pietro whispered.

“I love it here, but everyone isn’t going to be here forever. And the twins will have to go to school at some point. I would rather be somewhere nobody knows we are and where I would notice if somebody is out of place. We can get a huge lot and build a second house for Wanda even.”

“We should get some rest.” He kissed your forehead. “We can work out the details later.”

You nodded and the pair of you got ready for bed. It was easier to fall asleep with Pietro by your side, but sleep was still restless. Sleep lowered your defenses and anxiety crept into your dreams, suffocating you.

The sound of a pair of babies’ crying was like ice water being poured over your body, waking you out of your dream.

You closed your eyes tighter, trying to fall back under. Phantom cries had become an issue and kept you up from time to time. You started to count down from 100, hoping it would focus your brain on something else. But Pietro had shot out of bed.

“What?” you murmured and cracked your eyes open to see him staring down into a bassinet. His face was expressionless and his whole body still. You scrambled to him, thinking he was in a nightmare. Your nightmares often made you believe the twins never went missing and then you’d wake up thinking they were missing.

“Piet,” you looked up to his face and then followed his gaze into the bassinet. A minute went by before you processed that the cries were real and not a trick of your brain. The twins were in one bassinet together. One of them holding onto the wrist of the other as they cried.

Were you hallucinating? You reached in and they were solid. A sob tore through you as you were able to pick them up into your arms. Pietro unfroze at this movement and guided all of you back to the bed, pulling you into his lap.

He wrapped his arms around your shaking body and the twins clutched to your chest, his chin rested on your shoulder so he could take them in. They had immediately settled at your touch.

“How?” you choked out.

“I don’t—”

Red flashing lights and an alarm went off in the tower. The twins began to cry again.

“Code red.” Tony’s voice came over the intercom. “We’re under attack.”

Pietro sped out of bed and got suited up. “We need to find a secure place to hide.” He went to look outside the door. The hallway was empty so far. Not surprising as the only person who lived on the same floor were Wanda and Vision. “We’ll have to try and quiet them down first.”

Pietro realized there was no more crying. “Never mind then, let’s move.” He turned to help you but he found the bed empty. “Y/N?”

There was no response. His heart stopped. “Y/N!” Pietro ransacked the room, but there was no trace of you or the twins. “No, no, no!”

Clint ran into the room, bow drawn to see Pietro blurring around the room. “Pietro!” Clint called out.

Pietro stopped, his chest heaved and tears streamed down his face. “They’re gone!”

****

TAG LIST

MOTHER FUCKER!

(Thanks to my hubby for helping create this gif.)

“She recast Pietro?” - Dr. Darcy Lewis

Uggghhhh.

I fucking knew as soon as I saw they casted Evan Peters uncredited this was going to happen.

Fuck fuck fuck. Like hell, I love Evan. But dammit, I wanted Aaron back in his role.

Going to keep my #PietroDeservedBetter

Can we start a support group?