#pieteo x street racer!reader

[witchymarvelspacecase]

Zero to Quicksilver: Pt. 3

Summary: Pietro x Reader. Reader is a driver/chauffeur… during the day at least. The Avengers are visiting the area she calls home and reader is hired as their escort. What could happen when they find themselves in the back seat of her car?

Word Count: 2064

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of a bad relationship, mentions of past injury

A/N: So I’ve been off the radar for a while, I am really sorry about that. I would like to promise that it won’t happen again, but I can’t actually do that…

   The string of curse words that ran through your mind would have put a drunken sailor to shame; nothing but an angry growl left your lips though. Pietro, who had been standing close to you, was suddenly right behind you, his body stiff. He didn’t speak, but you could feel his body heat seeping into your back, it was an unexpected comfort.

   You met Jackson’s gaze, but you didn’t respond, you could feel your stomach turning over. For a moment, no one spoke.

   “Don’t be like that Y/N. I just asked a simple question,” Jackson said. If you hadn’t known better, his tone of voice and posture would probably have fooled you into believing he was the uncomfortable, embarrassed maybe, but you knew. You knew just how good of an actor Jackson had become.

   “A question that you have no right to ask, and one I choose not to answer,” you replied, tone icly calm, despite the tremor you could feel in your body. Mostly, your reaction was anger, but there was a little part of you, one that you denied for the most part, that was afraid.

   “Aw, sugar-”

   “Not your ‘sugar’,” you cut Jackson off before he could continue. There was nothing he could possibly have to say that you would want or need to hear. “Now, I’m not sure why the fuck you’re here, and I don’t really give a shit. Get. Lost.”

   When he opened his mouth to speak again, you said, “I thought I made myself clear. I do not want to see, hear, or speak to you. Go. Away.” You crossed your arms and planted you feet shoulder width apart.

   “Y/N-” Jackson started, but this time Pietro cut him off.

   “She told you to leave. I suggest you do so.” He didn’t raise his voice, but there was menace in his tone.

   Jackson put his hands up in what should have been a placating gesture, but from him, it looked mocking.

   “I just came to talk, but I can see I’m not welcome. I’ll come back and see ya later when you’re not… involved.”

   “Don’t bother,” you growled, “you won’t ever be welcome here.”

   Jackson’s eyes narrowed, and a worrying grin spread across his lips. “Whatever you say, Y/N.” He left after saying that, but you didn’t feel any better.

   You could feel your body tremble slightly as the supply of adrenaline started to wane, and you jumped when you felt Pietro put his hands on your upper arms.

   “Hey,” he said in a calming tone. When had he moved in front of you? Why did it seem like he’d been calling you for a while?

   Taking a deep breath, you met his eyes. Where there was usually a spark of mischief and humor in the grey-blue, there was only a steel edge. His grip was gentle on your biceps, but he didn’t seem likely to release you anytime soon. You uncrossed your arms, slowly, and shifted them so you could rest your hands on Pietro’s forearms.

   Speaking lightly, you answered him. “I’m okay.”

   “Really?” he said, disbelievingly.

   A humorless chuckle passed your lips. “Yeah, this is nothing new.”

   “Is that supposed to make me worry less?” Pietro asked, eyebrows raised. After a pause he added, “He is why you had your door closed.” He hadn’t phrased it like a question, but you nodded anyway.

   “I’d hoped not to have to deal with him like this, but he’s been hanging around a lot lately.”

   “Who is he?” Pietro asked.

   You let out a deep sigh, resting a bit of your weight on Pietro’s arms. “Ex-boyfriend.”

   “I’m guessing the relationship didn’t end well.”

   “That would be an understatement. You remember me telling you my brother got into bad shit? The shit that got me beat up?” At Pietro’s nod, you continued, “The asshole you just saw leave was the leader of the gang of said bad shit. I didn’t know ‘til later. Fucker had the gall to visit me in the hospital, as if he hadn’t been involved.” That still stung. When you had found out about a month after leaving the hospital, it had all but punched your chest in. You had trusted Jackson, had feelings for him, and he had participated in, had orchestrated your beating.

   Pietro’s grip tightened. “How dangerous is he to you?”

   PIetro was a lot calmer than you’d expected, or at least, he seemed calm. Of course, you couldn’t hear him practically grinding his teeth, and you couldn’t see the thoughts running through his head; the least violent of which involved calling the rest of the Avengers.

   “I’m not sure. Usually, I would say, ‘not very’; I carry a gun, and have no issue using it, but he’s been more persistent lately, and I’m not really sure why.”

   “And you live alone, with no close neighbors, and work in a shady part of town,” Pietro completed.

   “Hey, watch what you’re calling ‘shady’. I grew up here,” you joked.

   “Y/N, have you looked around yourself lately?”

   “Yeah, I know how it looks, but I’m safe here.”

   “He walked right in, Y/N.”

   Pietro’s mind was spinning. All he could think was that he was too far away. If something happened to you, he wasn’t going to be able to protect you.

   “Look, he’s an angry bastard, and I don’t like dealing with him, but I’ve got this.”

   “Yes, but-”

   “No ‘but’s,” you said, shrugging out of his hold, “I was hoping you wouldn’t even find out about him, cause I figured you’d get all weird about it. I don’t need your help.” You wrapped out arms around yourself as you backed away slightly.

   You had a feeling this would happen. Pietro was gonna start taking over, assuming you couldn’t handle your own shit. Fuck that. You were more than capable of taking care of yourself, you knew that. You had dealt with plenty of worse things in your life, but for some reason, even though you’d expected it to happen, Pietro starting to act all domineering hurt.

   “Hey,” Pietro said sternly. He’d moved so that he had you cornered; you wouldn’t be able to get around him easily. He held his hands up and spoke again. “I’m not saying you need my help. For fuck’s sake, within an hour of meeting you, you’d already saved not only my ass, but Stark’s, Rhodes’, and Romanoff’’s as well. I just want you to know that you have backup, if you want it.”

   It took a moment for what Pietro said to sink in. Even then, you struggled to respond.

   “I- uh. Thanks,” you stuttered.

   Pietro chucked a little and dropped his hands, “You’re welcome, înger.”

…

   You cleaned up your workshop pretty quickly, not particularly wanting to stay in the garage anymore. Locking up behind you, you and Pietro decided to head to your house. Once you got there, you reheated some leftover lasagna you’d made the night before, and offered some to Pietro, along with a beer.

   The conversation was almost as comfortable as usual, as if Jackson hadn’t shown his ugly face, but as the night drew on, as Pietro was preparing to leave, you saw him tense.

   He cleared his throat, “So, I don’t want to make you feel like I’m interfering, but are you sure you’re safe? I don’t want to leave you alone if you’re not comfortable.”

   You almost rolled your eyes. “I’m fine, Piet. There’s a race coming up out of town, so I’m leaving soon anyway.”

   “Where’s the race?” he asked.

   You cocked an eyebrow, ready to nag Pietro for getting too involved, but he laughed. “The rest of the team still wants to see you drive. If it’s close enough, we can probably even get the Captain out to see.” Pietro’s smile was bright, and at least 50% honest. You narrowed your eyes.

   “I was actually hoping you’d visit before I left; the race is in New York.”

   Pietro’s smile grew, and he was practically vibrating on the spot, though knowing him, he may actually have been moving fast enough to appear that way.

   “That’s wonderful,” he cheered, “now everyone will be able to see you drive!”

   You laughed lightly and shook your head. “Ya know, I can’t imagine Captain America being all that interested in the illegal street racing scene.” The image of him standing amongst the crowds of people that usually populated the races was enough to make you laugh.

   “He’s surprisingly laid back when it comes to the law. As long as you’re not hurting anyone, he probably won’t have a problem with it. Actually,” Pietro added on a laugh, “I think Barnes and Wilson will especially like you, so the Captain won’t really have a choice.”

   You snorted inelegantly, leaning back against your kitchen counter.

   “When are you going to be leaving for New York? Where are you staying?”

   “I was gonna leave in three days, and I was getting an airBnB.”

   Pietro did start vibrating then. You could see him blurring just a little bit as if he couldn’t contain himself. “You can come stay with me. I mean with the team. There’s plenty of room and I’m sure Stark would be happy to have you.”

   “But, I-”

   “He’s been trying to think of a way to repay you since the incident. He hasn’t come up with the right gift yet.”

   “He knows he doesn’t have to, right? I told him about a million times,” anxiety creeped into your voice as you asked. You didn’t want anyone to feel like they owed you anything.

   Pietro chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t think he listened. He’s Tony Stark; he’s gonna do what he wants.”

   “You’re right,” you nodded. “I guess I hadn’t really thought about that. He doesn’t hear ‘no’ a lot does he?”

   “Only from Ms. Potts really. The team tries, but I think Ms. Potts is the only one he listens to.” Pietro shot you a smile. “He’s a little tough to get used to.”

   “Says the human blur,” you snarked, nudging his shoulder. He made a face in response. “Did you just stick out your tongue at me?” you asked in disbelief, hands on your hips.

   “So what if I did, înger?” Pietro responded, mirroring your stance, but closing the distance between you so that he was only a few inches away. With your butt still against your counter, there wasn’t much space for you to move.

   “I’d say you shouldn’t stick it out unless you wanna share it,” you joked without thinking. What a time for inappropriate things to come out of your mouth.

   Your face was already pink and cringing when Pietro spoke. “Oh? And how do you know I don’t want to share, prețios?”

   Well that wasn’t the response you were expecting, You’d expected him to be uncomfortable, not play into it. You could feel your cheeks reddening, but you didn’t back down, though you did move your arms to cross your chest.

   Clearing your suddenly dry throat, you said, “You seem to like trapping me, Pietro.”

   Pietro’s voice was low when he responded. ‘You’re not trapped, bibic. I know you can get away. I’m just slowing you down, so that I can catch you.” He came even closer then, smiling mischievously, as he practically pressed his lips to your ear before saying, “We’ll have to test my ‘trap’ later. Maybe then I can show you how much I like to share.” A barely-there kiss was pressed to your neck, just below your ear, and before you could draw breath, he was gone.

   Your heart was racing again, but for a very different reason. You were going to have to look up those words he was using. You couldn’t understand them, but had a feeling they were important. Your phone buzzing startled you, but a goofy smile spread across your lips when you read the message.

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