Pietro - Christmas (Eve) Cuddles

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Haven't done a Pietro imagine in a while so, here goes!
Also, Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it! I don't celebrate it cause I'm a Buddhist, but hey, it doesn't hurt to write something fluffy on Christmas.
There are three more imagines coming up hopefully today (each for the other characters) because I don't want anyone feeling left out hehe. Hope you guys like them!
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The cold weather isn't exactly favorable when you're sick.

Bundled up in a blankets you took from the closet near the living room, you still shiver from the freezing air in the room.

Pietro, however, is completely fine. He's functioning like a normal human being (plus the super speed, of course), and seeing that you're clearly not feeling too well, he plops himself on the spot next to you.

"You feeling any better?" he asks, concern written all over his face as he slips a loose strand of your hair to the back of your ear.

You shake your head no, slightly pouting.

"Oh, baby," he coos sadly. "Is there anything I can do?" he asks. "I can make you some hot chocolate, or maybe some cookies?" he pauses. "I'm not doing this right, am I?"

You smile weakly. "Nope," you whisper.

"Um... I can make you some tea, if that's better? Get you something to eat?"

You shake your head no.

"Please, baby. You have to eat," he tells you. "Your body needs it."

"I don't wanna," you whine, your head pounding caused by a stomach bug.

"How about this," he proposes,"I'll cuddle you, but you have to promise me you'll eat."

You think for a while, but all the thinking isn't even working because of your head. "Fine," you reply, not really knowing what he's saying at this point, but just wanting to be as close to him as possible.

He grins. "That's my baby," he says proudly. "C'mere." He beckons you to snuggle into him and you gladly oblige.

You place your head on his chest, finding some sort of peace as you hear his heart beating regularly. You take in his scent and dear God, he smells like home and peppermint and vanilla, and all the good Christmas-y stuff. You ant really tell which smell is which at this point.

"Wanda and I never got the chance to do something like this," he says out of the blue.

"The cuddling or the whole Christmas Eve?" you ask, genuinely curious.

"The whole Christmas Eve. It's not really a big thing in our family. Well, wasn't," he corrects himself, looking down and avoiding your eyes.

"What was it like, then?" you ask carefully, afraid that he might get upset over the fact that most of his family isn't with him anymore.

He cracks a small smile. "It was never about the presents or anything. To us, it wasn't even about Christmas itself, but it was definitely about the people. We would have dinner together, the four of us, and our parents would make sure that we had enough food on the table. It was the only day where it was guaranteed that there'd be food on the table.

"We would play with the snow, with our rescue dog, and just have an amazing time even when we weren't exactly living amazingly," he pauses, gathering his thoughts and blinking a few tears away. "I miss our parents sometimes."

"That's okay," you mumble against him. Your problems seem so irrelevant compared to his. "Missing them means you loved them."

He nods, smiling brightly. "I did. Ugh, sorry. I'm a party pooper," he apologizes in a chuckle. "Tonight's about you."

"Tonight can be about the both of us," you offer, pressing a kiss on his clothed chest. "Hey, look. It's Christmas." You nod towards the clock above the TV. "This is a good way to start Christmas."

"Definitely, yeah. I wish we could stay here forever," Pietro replies. "With you in my arms, snuggling into me — there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

"You've always been the sappy one, huh?" you tease, making him blush just the slightest bit. "I'm sorry I have to be sick. Christmas is supposed to be fun."

"Aww, sweets, it's alright," he answers, kissing the top of your head. "You'll probably just have to sleep it off and you'll be good as new."

"Yeah, maybe," you say with a yawn, pulling the blankets so that it covers the both of you. "Merry Christmas, Piet."

"Merry Christmas, princess. I love you," he whispers in your ear before kissing the lobe. "Sleep tight."

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