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Five Times Pietro Dislike Being Touched and One Time He Initiate It

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He was eight when his power first manifest.

He was fighting a kid, the one’s that was lot bigger than him. Calling him in all sorts of name. At first he didn’t care. His parents said he should ignore them. Be the gentle one, his mother said. But when they started to insult his sister…..

His first punch land swiftly on the other’s jaw. A move he saw on some action movies on tv. Not that it did any damage, as his enemy soon recover, angling his fist with all his might towards Pietro’s stomach. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was his dislike of being touched(which was the only thing his mother said she won’t allow him to keep, being a very social person) but the punch didn’t managed to land anywhere near him. In fact he was now in front of the teacher’s lounge in the second floor when he knew the fight was on the first floor.

Everybody saw him doing it. It was a right after the bell for lunch time rang, everybody was on the hall. The school kept the incident quiet, not wanting some freak with weird power stained their name. When his parents knew, they packed everything. Saying now they won’t be able to stay long in one place. That they had to keep moving.

It was just their luck that the bomb incident happened when they decided to come home to Sokovia.


He was fifteen when Wanda’s power manifested.

They’ve been moving from one foster family to another, careful not to let them realized about Pietro’s power. For the past couple of years, Pietro drowned in guilt, knowing that if it wasn’t for him his family won’t move and their parents won’t die. He never told Wanda because knowing her, she’ll get angry at him just for that thought. Instead he covered it with sarcasm and not at all thinking about the horrible truth.

But then they arrived at the house. This family was the worst of them all. His foster father already had 3 children, all of them little girls, when they arrived. Pietro knew something was off the moment he was in, but he shook it off. Hoping this family would be better than before. His optimistic opinion wasn’t shared by his sister, who frown immediately upon entering, grabbing his hand while he tried to reassure her.

It was when he accidently found a letter from the military, hidden in one of the drawer, that he knew why. Turns out the guy was ex-military. Discharged recently without honor for unlawful sexual conduct with a minor. The foster care didn’t even bother updating their information, busy with so many children orphaned in the recent turmoil.

He realized he hadn’t seen Wanda for a couple of hours.

Pietro quickly raced. Wanting to get to Wanda as soon as possible. They have to escape. Better live on the street than risking anything happens to Wanda. To either of them. When he arrived, his foster father was holding Wanda’s wrists on his thick hands, face almost touched her neck. Beside him, there are two of his friends, laughing while caressing Wanda’s face.

He felt sick.

He wanted to use his power but he can’t risk exposure. His parents drilled enough of that to his head. Instead he punched his foster dad in the face, sending him sprawling on the floor. Two of his friends quickly grabbed both of his hands while the guy rise and seems to get ready to kill him.

Before he did anything his friend put a stop to it. Not because of kindness, but because he was one of the sickest fuck Pietro has ever met. “I think he wants to join in with his sister.” He smirked, rotting teeth seen between his lips, adding to the psychotic look he had.


Pietro struggled, bile rise on the back of his throat already, skin crawling from being disgusted of the touch. He was helpless, while his foster dad running his dirty hands on his hips and chest.

Suddenly there was a sound from their back. Wanda.

“Get away from my brother!” She screamed, red light surrounding her body spreading towards the four of them. Shock didn’t even cover it when one by one, they began to disintegrate. The last one was becoming a dust just as he reached the door handle. Not a single hair on Pietro’s head was harmed.

They ran away as fast as they can. Grabbing anything they could from their room, never to look back.


He was seventeen when he first had sex.

They’ve been living on the street for two years. Pietro become a master thief, stealing food and clothes and essential things like sanitary pads for Wanda or shaving kit for himself (the beginning of a stubble started to make his face itchy). No one even see him, really. All they saw was a shadow passing by. He knew it was dangerous, but it was the most freeing moment he had in a long time. Wanda work on the quiet alley way. Manipulating people to give her their money and valuables. They always checked first though. Only robbed from rich people, criminals, or sick fuck like their foster dad. It can almost be called a revenge.

But on some days, when people are afraid of the outside world because of the riot everywhere, money was tight. It was when he saw it. On the corner of the unused lot. Another kid around his age, maybe older, kneeled in front of a guy with a suit. The guy clearly almost choke him with his cock, barely giving any chance to breath, before coming all over his face.

Pietro might not like it when people touched him. But money was money and he won’t ever let Wanda starved to death.

So he did it. Hanging around near the empty lot gets him clients. Handjobs, blowjobs, anal. You named it. The pleasure was good, the best thing he has ever felt, if he can get passed the disgusting hand or mouth that touched him. He can never jerk off at their house (more like abandoned school) with Wanda around.

He almost throw up, when he did it with his first client. He wants to run, to pull his head and his hand and his body back from the touch. After that it gets easier.

He started carrying condoms around because he might be poor but he wasn’t stupid. Also, no kissing and no swallowing. He won’t risk contracting HIV. Those cliché movie about prostitutes was useful after all. If not him then who was going to take care of his sister. And if Wanda heard him said that she was going to smack him in the face for saying she was incompetent. Which she wasn’t, he knew about that but she is his only sister.

Wanda started to notice that something was going on when he came home a few times with bruises. He told his clients not to be rough, not to leave any bruises or hickey but sometimes they did it anyway (fucker). His throat always felt raw from being chocked too many times, whether by hands or by cocks. His ass hurts. Sometimes, just sometimes there are nice people who prepared him. Adding one finger at a time, stretching him until he was ready. Those are rare. Although, there are a few female clients too and they were usually nicer than the guys.

When his sister found out, she was mad. Yelling at him for being stupid. You’re the only one I have! Pietro can see it in her eyes, memories from years ago raised to the surface. She was afraid of losing him. He quickly hugged his sister, apologizing. That he was sorry for worrying her.

He stopped coming to the lot.


He was nineteen when Strucker recruited him.

Wanda and he were yelling on the street, joining the rioters to protest against the government. They decided to put the blame of what happen to them, all of them, partly to Stark (although he knew who holds the real blame oh yes he knew). His weapon killed their parents. That man has to pay, she said, eyes full with vengeance. Half of the blame they laid to the government. If only they did their job properly.

They were hopeless by their own. Against Stark’s weapon. Against the government. Which is why when Strucker appeared, handling them the opportunity to become something more, to be more powerful, they took it. They didn’t tell anyone about their powers. Maybe, just maybe the experiment will make them stronger. Or even gained new abilities. They convinced the others to join them.

Pietro almost forgot everything has its price.

Everyone else was dead. They were the only survivor of the experiment. A strange scepter, glowing gem on it, was the main experiment. They were exposed with it.
What came next was pain.

Pain everywhere and it was the only thing Pietro can feel or hear alongside his sister’s scream. When he woke up, he was in a cell room. Wanda wasn’t there and he panicked, yelling at someone, anyone where is his sister?

He can hear a voice from the cell next to his. “Pietro!”

They were both imprisoned. Kept for more experiments. Wanda’s power flourished, she can now manipulate people’s mind and blast anything with her red light. Pietro’s hair changed color. The scientist speculated it might be the scepter changing things from inside of his body. His reflexes got stronger, faster. He didn’t get tired so easily now. It was wonderful being more powerful, except they won’t let him see his sister. Pain makes you stronger, they said. Which was why they keep trying to force his limit. His physical and psychological pain tolerance. By the time they let him back to his cell, he was exhausted. And by the quiet sound of Wanda’s made, crying by herself in her cell, Pietro knew she got the same treatment. The worse thing was he can’t do anything to change this.

One thing he hates the most was not that, surprising as it is. That one scientist on the lab. Seemed to be specifically assigned to him. Slicked back hair with his creepy smile and his cunning eyes. He was the head scientist of the project, Pietro knew that much. At the end of the day he always told him to stay on the lab, while his subordinate scattered back to wherever they were from. He told him to sit on the floor, beside his chair while he lounge in it, relaxed, caressing Pietro’s jaw and hair like he was some sort of a pet.

The touch sometimes moved to his throat, his hips, or his ass. Sometimes a pat on the back when he did well. He can tell that the man was dying to get his hands on his skin, maybe fuck him on the lab table. His gaze already said that much. All Pietro can do was clench his teeth and fist, hoping he didn’t do the same to Wanda or he is a dead man.

It was one month later, he can tell, when the scientist gain courage to do more. The lab was empty, the curtain surrounding it was drawn. Strucker already went home, or so he said. He shoved Pietro on the cold examination table, bound his hand with handcuffs behind his back. He keep caressing his body, putting his hand, his fingers in place that he had no right to touch. The guy mistook Pietro’s shudder for desire and slowly opened his zipper.

But when he removed Pietro’s pants, cock erect in his hand, ready to be thrust in, Strucker walked in. Keen eyes, Pietro knew he already heard all about of this.

Drawing his gun, he said “You dare attempting to damage the merchandise?” Then he shot the scientist twice. One on his dick, then one on his head. Pietro was glad he was face down or he’ll puke his guts out and there was no telling Strucker won’t shoot his mouth for daring to put disgusting bile on his expensive shoes. Crazy fucker.

Relief was clear on his face when they sent him and his sister to deal with the Avengers. They don’t need to be near someone who he was sure one day is going to destroy the world for kicks.


He was twenty one when he got his own room in the new Avengers headquarters.

It was large room with one connecting door to Wanda’s. The room was full of color blue. The wall, the bed, the wardrobe. All varying shades of blue. Wanda’s room was varying shades of red. He was pretty sure Stark was playing a joke on them. What he didn’t know was that both were actually their favorite colors.

After the Battle of Sokovia, the team asked (more like forcibly asked) him and Wanda to live on the HQ, after learning that yes, they were now homeless, since Ultron killed Strucker and his lab was raided by the Avengers. And no, they won’t go back to Sokovia, they had enough of that country already.

Clint was the first to warm up to him since he saved his life, leaving a few healing bullet holes on body. Thankfully, those bullets that Ultron fired hadn’t killed him. A few of them lodge in his arms and one on his right leg, one on his shoulder. But they have one doctor on the hellicarrier and she managed to put him together again. Somehow, he didn’t know why, he had a feeling Clint was looking at him and Wanda like they were both his children. But when he turned to look at Clint, his eyes were already on Natasha, talking about random things with her. Thor was just too easy too like. He's a god, literally. Pietro still hasn't been able to stop glancing at his directing, waiting for him to do some god-like trick with thunder again.

Bruce, despite potential danger with his temper, was actually an overall nice guy. As long as they didn’t piss him off, that is. Natasha, the superspy, looked at both of them with knowing eyes. And he can see it, she also someone with a dark past. In fact, all of them here seemed to be a band of misfits with fucked up past. Even Stark seemed to be hiding something. A few more deep reading into his mind, Wanda told him about the kidnapping and the guilt. Not that he’ll just forgive Stark just like that. He might not be as much as a jerk than before, but he was still such a narcissistic and sarcastic asshole (Pietro knew though, that some of them were just cover).

So he and Wanda warmed up to them, slowly but surely. Started going to mission, lunch, and even going places with them. He visits the national gallery a few times with Steve. Turns out they both have the same love of art. Steve showed him some of his sketches and they were really good. All of his paintings that he worked on before were lost. Left behind in Sokovia after he join Strucker’s experiment. Those moments in the gallery almost felt like a date.

He snorts. Him? Dating Captain America? Don’t be absurd.

They were gathered on the living room in the residential area of the HQ, getting ready to do their weekly movie marathon which was held every Friday (unless there’s some sort of crisis), this time a marathon of Tolkien’s (all six of them, prepare for a long journey, kid Stark said) since Steve still hasn’t watch it yet, busy with the Winter Soldier (Steve casted his eyes down when Stark said this, sadness in his eyes. Pietro has a sudden urge to know why).

He was back from getting a beer from the kitchen when Clint pat him on the back, “Hey, quick. The movie’s starting.”

No! Don’t you dare touch—

Before he knew what he was doing, he was already on the other side of the room. Shit, he let his instinct overwhelmed him. Memories of the scientist’s touch so clear he can almost feel the sickening touch all over his body.

“You okay, kid?”

Concern was on Clint’s eyes and when he glanced at the sofa where everyone else sat, they also had the same look. Except Wanda. She gave him a knowing look and tilted her head as if asking, do you need me to make excuses and help you to your room?

He shook his head and Wanda nods, their little exchanged missed by the others (except Natasha. She never missed anything. She didn’t ask though. Just inclined her head, seemingly in understanding). “I’m fine. Just tired, maybe. It has been a long day. I’ll just be in my room if anyone needs me.”

And it is, he spent the day battling weird tentacle monster that tried to grope everything in its vicinity. He swallowed thickly, realizing his accent getting thicker already, sign that he was about to lose it if he didn’t have some time alone. So he turned his back and went to his room, not realizing one particular gaze of certain blond man who also noticed everything that happened.


He was twenty four when nightmare starts again.

The day started nicely with him eating breakfast together with Steve in the café near the HQ which serve the best chicken sandwhich he had ever taste. They’ve been going on to that place a couple of times since they first went to the national gallery. It became their routine. Each weekend, they went to some place they never went. Story was shared and he ended up knowing that Steve was frozen for nearly seventy years on ice. It was surreal. So he said he still re-learning the places in the modern times. You probably know more things than me, I’m just an old man, he laughs, making his face looked softer.

“You look good, for an old man.”

He was flirting. Yes he knew about that. But Steve knew that too. They traded light flirting back and forth for the past couple of years. Pietro was waiting for Steve to make the first move (if he’s going to make a move at all) because he thought Steve might be a little bit more uncomfortable with same sex relationship, what, with him being from the forties and all.

It was perfect and it was the best thing he had since before (before the accident). So of course it had to be ruined (thank you, fate).

They were walking down the park when someone fired a shot at Steve’s direction. He had to react, grabbing Steve’s waist and head (to keep it from being whiplashed). They hide in the nearby tree and even though it wasn’t an ideal cover, it was better than nothing. He glanced quickly and what the fuck Strucker was standing near the pond. He was shocked to the core, he can’t move.

No no no no not now why-

He can hear Steve putting on his earpiece, talking fast to Tony. They always brought one with them, each member of the Avengers for occasion like this. He can hear Steve putting on his command voice.

“Iron Man someone was shooting at us. Two people, man and woman, both look suspiciously like Struker, firing what seems to be some futuristic weapon—what kind? How should I know? You’re the one who usually know things like this. Use your satellite, I know you can.” He heard Steve added, “I didn’t bring my shield. Assist immediately. We’re at the park. Cap out.”

Pietro snapped himself out and keep helping Steve dodge the bullets until other Avengers came. Steve almost attempts to defeat them by himself but before that happen Pietro always reel him back, pressing him closer to his body because there was no way he’ll lose him. He won’t lose another person who’s important to him. Not when he can help it.

When it was over, something touched him on the shoulder. It was a calming presence, with big hands and concerned smile and oh god he still holding on to Steve.

Quickly, he let go, letting Steve’s hand fall from his shoulder. He averted his eyes, missing the moment when that very hand rose and came back down. Wanting to touch but reluctant to force anything. “

I-,“ He cleared his throat, “I apologize.”

Steve shook his head, “Are you okay? You should head back. Leave the cleaning up to me and the others. You look like you need it.”

Shaking his head to clear his thought, he immediately nod (even though usually he protest, he just didn’t have the energy right now), “Then I will. Thank you.”

Turning so quickly, he didn’t see other Avengers’ concerned look.

After he arrived on his room, he quickly pulled out his shoes and socks and slumped on his bed. Too tired to even changed, he closed his eyes and let sleep claimed him-

-and woke up screaming his face off.

He saw Stark, laughing while his parents lay down below the wall, face wet with blood. He saw his foster dad, sexually abusing Wanda. He saw Strucker, torturing Wanda with his lab equipment. He saw that scientist, greedy hand stretching to grab him.

Get away from me! Someone help—

“Hey, hey. It’s me.” He almost threw Steve off. In fact, if it’s not Steve he was pretty sure they were already collided with the wall (except Thor, of course).


Steve stood by the bed, hesitant, but when he saw the way Pietro was shaking, he made his decision. He climbed on the bed, drawing Pietro on his embrace, waiting until he stopped shaking. Wanda wasn’t in her room. Maybe having a little date with Vision, maybe doing Avengers business. Because if she was, then she’ll run in here already.

Pietro shook some more, not used to not be with his sister when one of his nightmares came, without her calming presence beside him. But then Steve withdraw, mistook Pietro’s shudder for his reluctant of touch (which was an issue all Avengers already knew, after living for a few years with him). As soon as Steve released him he felt empty. And empty wasn’t anything that he wanted to feel right now.

“Don’t.” He said, grabbing Steve’s wrist.

Still hesitating, Steve was always nice like that, he pulled him in, tucking his head on the crook of Steve’s neck. Slowly, his hand rose, wrapping themselves on Pietro’s back. Making circular, calming movements.

“Aren’t you going to ask some question?” Pietro asked, quietly

“No. I won’t ask what you can give, Pietro.”

And that was what tipped him over the edge.

He never cried. Not after his parent’s death. Not after the rough life on the streets. Not even after all Strucker’s experiment. But this time he’s letting go. He let his tears fall silently. If Steve felt wetness on his T-shirt he didn’t say anything. This was the first time he felt truly safe and relaxed. Before he always had to think about Wanda, their power, the experiment, and what are they going to do next. Now Wanda and him was as safe as they can be, they didn’t have to worry about their power and maybe…’s time to let the guilt go, and filled the void with something else.

Steve’s touch never make his skin crawled or his stomach churn but in fact felt welcome, even in those times in the past the accidently touched. Perhaps it was because he knew Steve would never hurt him, not intentionally. Steve won’t hurt anyone if it wasn’t necessary.

Now, it’s time he accepted the fact that the other members of Avengers had practically became his family for the past couple of years. They accept him for what he was and didn’t demand anything from him.

His dislike of being touched, which first just seemed to be a simple problem, gradually worsen over the years. He did flinched if anyone touched him except Wanda. But not anymore. He won’t let his past consume him. Now, it’s time he accepted the fact that the other members of Avengers had practically became his family for the past couple of years. They accepted him for what he was and didn't demand anything from him. It’s time for himself to accept who he really is.

Pulling back, he gazed into Steve’s kind eyes. Braving himself, he decided to take a chance rather than regret of not acting on it. He landed a soft kiss on Steve’s lips. Letting his action spoke for him. His heart hammering in his chest. Worst possibilities passed through his head with him trying not to think about it.

When he felt Steve smiled and kissed back, he knew his feelings were returned.