literature

No Complaints Pietro MaximoffxReader

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Literature Text

It was a rule within the Avengers HQ that every Friday, at precisely 7PM, the third training room on the first floor was to be left alone. It was even included in the orientation speech given to new recruits.

Leaving the room vacant at this particular time was a well-known fact to everyone; except Pietro Maximoff and you. As far as the two of you were concerned, you just got extremely lucky every week.

So when 7PM rolled around on Friday, the two of you made your way to the (in your minds) always empty training room.

“What song would you like to start with this week, dragă?” Pietro asked as the two of you walked into the room.

A humming noise was his first response as you made your way over to the boom box left against the wall. “I’m not sure. Something that makes me want to spin and jump. What do you think?”

The Sokovian chuckled. “Whatever you want, dragă.”

You shot him a smile before plugging in your phone and beginning to search through your music, Pietro watching you all the while.

As you stood after starting a song and made your way back over to him, he couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done to deserve this. Helping create Ultron and almost destroying the world was certainly not it. But as the two of you linked hands and began moving across the floor, he couldn’t find it in him to care. And after nearly dying on the floating rock that had been his homeland, he knew better than to take things for granted.

Soon enough his heavy thoughts were gone and in their place was the sound of your laughter and the feeling of your hands in his as he swung you around the room. With a wide smile he carefully tossed you into the air, earning him a loud laugh that continued as he caught you and twirled in a circle with you in his arms.

“Pietro!” you shouted through your laughter. “I’m getting dizzy!”

Not wanting to make you throw up, said Avenger slowed to a stop with a chuckle. “Better now?”

You giggled. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he responded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I would not want my (Name) to become ill.”

“Yeah cause then I might throw up on your hair and that would be a real shame.”

Pietro snorted. “I would think you would know your health is more important to me than my hair.”

You gave him a winning smile as he set you on your feet. “Sometimes I wonder.”

“You wound me, dragul meu,” he said, pressing  a hand to his chest over his heart. “Take responsibility and kiss it better.”

“You have no shame.”

“When it comes to kissing you? No.”

You smiled in amusement before leaning up. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Pietro smiled in return as he leaned down to meet you halfway, murmuring just before kissing you. “So long as that never changes, then I have no complaints.”

No. He could never complain about this.
I don't even know. This is lame and the idea for it started out way better than it turned out. But I guess getting the practice in is good because he's one of my new favorites. So you'll be seeing him more often I'm sure.

The language used is Romanian and the translations in order are "sweetheart" and "my dear" at least according to Google Translate.

I own nothing.
You belong to Pietro.
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