MYSTERY OF LOVE || MARVEL AU

| nine |

Sorry that took so long 🧍🏻‍♂️
written by moi

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Y/N blinks groggily, taking a deep breath and stretching her sore muscles. Her head feels foggy. The rays of sunlight attacking her through the window aren't helping. 

She groans and looks down, only to see that her costume from last night is still plastered to her body, sticking to her skin after a night of tossing and turning. 

Last night.

She'd admired his lips, captured in the heat, and the longing of the moment. She'd brushed her leg against his, feeling the warmth radiating off of his body, craving just one touch. 

She was sure that he felt the same. His eyes were glazed over, dark and cavernous, boring holes into her face. His cheeks were tinted red from the sudden heat of their proximity, his breath flowing from his mouth, almost with desperation, but truly hesitant. Like he knew something she didn't. 

Her hand had been pressed onto his cheek, her thumb grazing just below his eye, feeling his softness, drinking him in. He was beautiful.

Y/N sighs, pulling herself out of the mass of blankets. 

After the failed attempt at intimacy, they hadn't exchanged many words. Just reassurance that he wanted to sleep on the sofa, checking his injuries one last time, and providing him with extra blankets and pillows.

He'd thanked her, not quite meeting her eyes, afraid of the disappointment he'd see, afraid of the love he'd see there too.

She looks down once more, only to see her costume replaced completely.

Covering her torso is a blue bandana, stretching under her arms and tied tightly. She sighs and flexes her arms, preparing to exit her room, preparing to see Pietro, who undoubtedly is still asleep.

Y/N pushes her door open. The living room is bright and clean smelling, the wooden floors gleaming and the windows already wide open. She smiles unconsciously as she breathes in the fresh air.

It's refreshing, clean, and reminds her of a new start. A constant in her life that never gets old. She twists her hand in front of her, and a small flurry of wind tickles her palm, fluttering on top of her soft skin and escaping as she smiles down at it.

A loud snore breaks her out of her trance.

Pietro is laying spread eagle on the sofa- well, as spread as he can get. His left limbs are hanging lazily off the side, poking out of the fuzzy blanket draped on top of him. His other arm is thrown on top of his face, covering his eyes from the bright sun. 

He snorts again and shifts in his sleep, his hair even pointier and solid than before. His costume is ruffled, and the duct tape lightning bolt adorning his chest has begun to slide off the fabric of his shirt, now sticking pitifully to the leather below him.

Y/N smiles in spite of herself, admiring him in all his dorkiness for one more moment, before she walks carefully over to the couch and crouches down next to him. 

She debates touching his face, waking him gently, like she'd want to be woken up. But after last night, there wasn't much that she felt confident doing to him anymore. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable. 

She sits on the very edge of the couch, careful not to touch his side, and puts a hand on his shoulder softly. Very neutral contact, anyone could do that.

"Pietro... Hey, wake up-"

The speedster wakes up mid-snort, scrunching up his nose and inhaling deeply. His dark eyes crack open, and when they land on her face, they immediately clear.