Mentions: panic attack

With you being the youngest member on the team, the others felt obligated to make sure you survived without a scratch and that often meant leaving you home during missions.

You would plead with them, but in the the end, Steve would firmly oppose it and they'd leave. Never once did they take into account your ability to take care of yourself, but you weren't going to say anything—they'd have to figure it out on their own if it killed you. So, like any other 18 year old, you were angry for being treated like a kid and you sulked around with a sour attitude.

When they realized how unpleasant you were becoming toward them, they decided to leave you Pietro as a companion.

Which only made things worse.

Everyday was a new horror waiting to happen with that nutcase. He was constantly playing pranks on you and you returned the favor by snapping at him and telling him how much you hated his guts.

At one point, you started to get used to it and he could feel his pranks getting stale.

And he wasn't about to let that happen.

——————

"Y/N? Helloooo?"

Your eyes fluttered open and you came face to face with a grinning Pietro.

Who else could it have been?

The others were all out and you had decided to have a movie night by yourself when lo and behold, the speedster himself decided to nag at you.

"Y/N, you must not sleep on the couch. Go, go. To your bed," he demanded, his thick Sokovian accent throwing you off a bit.

The TV was flashing with ending credits and you realized you had missed more than half of the movie. You were too tired to do anything about it, so with the help of Pietro, you stumbled tiredly to your bedroom and slammed the door behind you so he didn't follow you in.

"Y/N!"

"Go away!"

"But—"

"I said go away, Pietro!"

You flopped onto your back and stretched leisurely, sinking a little into the comforter and the huge feather pillows. A quiet hum of appreciation escaped from your throat as your eyes closed and you could feel yourself drift—

Feel?
You could—
Something was—
You could feel something moving underneath you and you froze, suddenly alert.
You slipped off the bed and slowly lifted the blanket, your heart pounding, to see—

"AAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

——————

Meanwhile

Pietro lumbered back into the living room where Steve, Natasha and Tony had just gotten off the elevator. Bucky, Wanda, Sam and Clint were raiding the kitchen, but they all stopped to watch as Pietro walked in, a nervous look on his face.

"What's up, speedster?" Tony called and collapsed onto his favorite armchair. Pietro jumped onto the counter, disturbing the bottle of mayonnaise.

"Well...you see...I might have done...something."

Natasha froze with her ham sandwich halfway to her mouth and a pointed glare.

That was never a good sign with this kid.

"What did you do?" She snapped.

He opened his mouth to reply when a loud, bloodcurdling scream interrupted him, making everyone jump in fright. Bucky, the closest one to the stairs, immediately bolted to the top floor, leaving the others in a sickly silence as they waited for him to come back down.

"I swear I didn't mean to," he groaned.

That earned him a mayo-covered spoon to the head.

——————

Your POV

You felt absolutely sick.

Your body was trembling with intense fright and you couldn't stop the waterfall of tears that seemed to have no end. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms as you imagined the things creeping and crawling—

You flinched away from the bed, even though you were huddled into the farthest corner of the room, your knees drawn tightly into your chest. The anxious feeling seemed to overwhelm you, looming like a grim reaper would. It reveled in your fear, feeding off of it and growing out of control.

"Y/N?"

You looked up to see Bucky hovering over you with a worried look on his face. You were looking at him, but you couldn't-
You couldn't see him.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

You didn't answer.

"You have to tell me what's wrong, Y/N."

When you said nothing, he walked around the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

When he stopped at the bed, you heard him take in a large breath.

"Holy shit."

Five, large tarantulas slowly crawled over your pillows, your blankets, as if they were making your bed their home.

Everyone in the Tower knew you had arachnophobia to the point where you couldn't even look at a spider web without freaking out. No one had tested out that theory after you had gotten the mild shakes from a piece of string hanging from the vents...until now. And Bucky, knowing full well what you were going through, could just about kill Pietro.

He quickly walked over to you and scooped you up effortlessly.

"Come on, let's get you downstairs."

Your head bounced lightly against his shoulder and as he entered the living room, a wave of nausea swept through your stomach at the bright lights.

"Is she okay?" Steve asked.

You heard a grunt and felt Bucky gently put you down on the couch, the cool leather a remedy to your heated skin.

"What the hell happened?" Natasha demanded and you watched through bleary eyes as the others gathered around in a tense circle.

"She had a panic attack because that dumb ass put spiders in her bed," Bucky snarled.

"Pietro!"

"I didn't think it'd be that bad!" He protested.

"You don't think! That's your problem!" Tony snapped at him.

"Enough," Natasha chided in a low voice, lightly putting a hand to your forehead.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." An ashamed-looking Pietro peeped around the shoulder of his sister, keeping a safe distance away from you.

Good.

If he was any closer, you'd slug him in the face without a second thought.

"I hate you," you mumbled.

It must've been the millionth time you've said that to him.

But, even though you were exhausted from what you had just experienced and your eyes felt like they couldn't open any more than they were, you knew you meant it this time.

And so did he.