Title: Fuck Buddies
Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Reader
Summary: Y/N's tired of only being Pietro's booty call
Warnings: mentions of sex, but no actual smut; mild language
A/N: Requests are open!
Word Count: 954
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It was heartbreaking almost, the way he seemed to only want to be with you when his frustrations were pent up and his dick was hard. You had originally slept with him because you thought it would lead to something more, it had been a late night out and you were both were a little turned on. One thing led to another and you woke up wrapped in his arms, his body softly pressed against yours.
And after nothing became of it, you thought that was that. He never asked you out on a date afterwards or treated you any different really at first, so you left it at that. You were a little hurt, yes, but it was a one night stand -- it didn't mean anything. There was no point in dwelling on it. So you left it alone.
Everything was fine until New Year's Eve, you both were fairly sober compared to the other guests that surrounded you in the lounge of the tower. He had that same smirk from the time before playing on his lips as he placed his hand on the small of your back, leaving the spot warm and sparks practically shooting from your skin. "Pisoi, you are enjoying yourself, yes?" You nodded, your heartbeat quickening from the thickness of his accent as his spoke. "Ten! Nine! Eight..." party guests began shouting around you as something mischievous glinted in Pietro's eyes. He licked his pink lips, his electric blue eyes examining you carefully.
"Why don't we make some more of our own fun somewhere else?" He whispered pulling you in close, "Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!" streamers and excited whoops sounded from all corners of the room as you nodded again at a loss for words. He intertwined your hand with his as he guided you through the hordes of dancing bodies, you followed behind in disbelief that this was happening once again.
You were never quite sure why he had picked you the first time anyway when Natasha, Sharon, and Maria had tagged along with the group for drinks that night as well. Not to mention the dozens of girls that had been trying to get his attention all night, including the bartender who had gifted the group a round of shots on the house.
Yet there you were again, the only one he wanted -- the object of his desire. At first it felt amazing because you were his go to for when he needed to release some pent up sexual frustrations. Some nights he loved you slowly and carefully; making sure every sweet spot on your skin had been softly kissed and caressed before he moved onto making love to you. Other nights, it was more demanding and needy, he wouldn't stop even after many curses had escaped from your lips mixed with his name now and then. And so it was after four times, you and Pietro had officially become friends with benefits.
The longer it went on, the more personal it became for you. He wouldn't make love to just anyone like this, right? As the flirting began more publicly, you waited for him to finally ask you on a date. Months had begun to pass since it began and so enough, you had been fuck buddies for almost four months.
You were tired of waiting and were convinced that you were nothing more than a piece of ass to him. The day you finally threw your hands up in frustration and put your foot down was the day you finally learned what it was he felt was going on between the two of you.
"Don't be like that, pisoi." He frowned as you ignored his advances. You sat in the kitchen drinking your early morning coffee when he had come out of his room with a bit of a problem and the hope that you'd fix it for him. He sat beside you as you scrolled through your Twitter feed, a desperate attempt to avoid looking at him. You knew that if you even peeked a glance, you'd crack so you needed something to distract you, and Twitter seemed to be a good contender. "Are you mad at me, dragoste mea? Did I do something wrong?" he asked, placing his hand on yours.
You stopped looking at your feed long enough for you to crack, "Yes, you did." you scowled. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you sighed knowing it was time to come clean. "I can't keep playing this game with you, Pietro." you huffed, turning to fully look at him. "What game?" he asked and you rolled your eyes. "Where you get horny and need to get your dick wet so you come running to me to help you out. I'm tired of the meaningless sex," you frowned. "I don't want to be your booty call."
"My booty call? Is that how I make you feel?" You nodded slowly, "I'm sure I'm not the only one." He looked mildly offended, "And that's only because we're not exclusive--" "We're not exclusive?" he asked, throwing you off. "Were we supposed to be exclusive? Because you never gave me any reason to think so."
"I thought it was pretty clear that we were -- that we are a thing." he replied, "I thought we were on the same page this whole time, draga mea." You raised a slight eyebrow at the new pet name, "I'm sorry, I must have forgotten to properly ask you."
"Moving too quickly?" you smirked as he started to regain his cockiness, "Most of the time I am -- just not in bed." You hit his arm playfully as he chuckled, "Will you properly be mine, dragoste?" he asked and you nodded. Finally.