That Accent Is Definitely A Superpower, Part 2
Cherry choc-chip turned out to be Pietro's favourite cookies. Wanda liked the cinnamon-ginger spiced ones that Darcy's grandmother had taught her how to make. They discovered this over one long, joyous morning about a week later in the common kitchen in the Tower (after it had been fixed up again, damn you Ultron) when Darcy made about sixty trays of cookies in order for the twins to sample them all.
Even Steve, Thor and Pietro (who'd turned out to require insane amounts of food to fuel his superfast metabolism) couldn't go through that many cookies before they went stale, though Thor was enthused about the idea of giving it a red-hot go. Jane, knowing what Thor was like when he'd had too much sugar, distracted him with the promise of doing wicked things with chocolate frosting, stole a bowl of leftover said frosting and towed the enthusiastic demi-god out.
"What the hell are we going to do with all these cookies?" Clint said from his perch on top of the fridge. He'd taken a stash of his favourite jaffa cookies up there with him to keep them safe from the marauding heroes. Wanda leaned against the fridge with a little smile on her face, nibbling on another spiced cookie.
"Photo op," Pepper said from her seat at the table, around a mouthful of rum-spiked brown sugar cookie. "We could use some good press. Everyone suit up and we'll go visit a children's hospital and hand out cookies."
"I'd better make some diabetic ones and some gluten-free ones then too," Darcy mumbled, pushing her hair back from her face with a floury hand. "Can we make it tomorrow? I'll need more ingredients, and these won't go stale before then…"
"Gives me time to set things up. Sounds like a plan." Pepper stood up and kissed Darcy's cheek, wiping off the smear of flour her hand had left behind. "Tomorrow then. Everybody."
"Not me…" Bruce said, pausing with his half-eaten piece of green tea shortbread just outside his mouth.
"Not you, no. You can help, though. Frankly you're the only one apart from Darcy who can cook. And we're going to need a lot more cookies."
Pietro eased in behind Darcy, where she stood looking distractedly through her recipe book (Grandma's recipe book, well-loved, with lots of extra recipes stuck in between pages) and slipped an arm around her waist. "Let me help, meiča. What can I do?" He nuzzled lightly at her ear, and she leaned back against him, turned her head to smile up at him.
"You can stop doing that, for a starter. And don't talk. You know how distracting I find it and if I'm going to make lots more cookies…"
He chuckled, nibbled at her neck. "I could distract you for a little while first…"
A chunk of coconut macaroon thrown by Sam bounced off the back of his head. "Knock it off, we eat in here, you know the rules!"
Pietro sighed, rested his chin atop Darcy's head. "All right, meiča, we'll leave the enthusiastic ravishing for later," he murmured, for Darcy's ears alone, making her blush and laugh. "What do you need me to do?"
"You could go speedily pick up more supplies for me - I'm going to need more butter. And brown sugar, and quinoa flour for the gluten-free, and eggs, and where is that darn diabetic cookie recipe I had?" she scowled, flicked pages again. Pietro reached around her, flickered pages in a blur, dropped it open at the recipe she was looking for.
"See? Useful."
Darcy couldn't quite resist turning to give him a kiss, even though it caused groans and shouts of;
"Not in the kitchen!" from just about everybody.
Darcy grinned against Pietro's mouth.
The visit to the children's hospital was amazing. Darcy refused to let Pepper mention that she was the cookie baker – everyone had ended up helping in the end anyway, even Natasha and Tony who were not trusted to cook anything ever, were roped into package the cookies up for delivery. Tony promptly started designing a cookie-packaging machine until Natasha smacked him repeatedly on the back of the head.
Pietro and Wanda had been officially Avengers for less than a week – but there had been plenty of shaky-cam cellphone footage of the final confrontation with Ultron, and the fan collective outside the Tower had already developed a smattering of platinum blonds in stretchy blue-grey shirts and long-haired brunettes with gothy jewellery and red leather jackets.
The very first little girl they met in the hospital – a frail little thing with no hair and yellowing skin stretched over her bones – on being asked who her favourite Avenger was, whispered;
"The Scarlet Witch. Because she's got magic."
Wanda had to hide behind Clint's broad back until she got her tears under control. And then she took a few deep breaths, popped her head out from behind Clint and gave the little girl a smile. The smile she got in return lit up the room.
Pietro was the only one who saw the red glow around Wanda's fingers as she sat down on the bed with a bag of cookies and a storybook in her hands. He raised eyebrows at her – should you be doing that? – and got a bland look in return.
Well. It wasn't as though he could stop her. He hung back by the doorway as the others moved on, though. If she pushed the probabilities too hard – and he was no doctor but he could see that little girl was near the end – Wanda could seriously hurt herself. He watched carefully for the telltale trickle of blood from her nose, but it didn't come, and after a few minutes she laid the sleeping child down gently and stood up.
"Was that wise?" Pietro said quietly as Wanda came to his side, slipped her free hand into his.
"I don't care if it was or not." Wanda's jaw jutted stubbornly, and then she squeezed his fingers. "Some people might say I'm interfering with God's plan. But – it's no gentle God that allows a child to die like that. Not a God I'll choose to follow. We've met gods, Pietro," she nodded at Thor, on his knees further down the corridor, laughing his booming laugh as he sneakily pushed a finger under Mjolnir so that a little boy in a red cape could lift it after Iron Man had once again failed to do so.
"Asgardians," Pietro corrected.
"The same thing, apparently. You're not going to change my mind, brother."
"When could I ever? Just – don't do too much. You can't help them all."
"No," Wanda agreed. "But I can try. This is my chance," the look she turned up to him was starry-eyed. "Maybe my one chance, to make up for some of the trouble I've caused. Wipe out some of the red in my ledger, as Nat would say."
Pietro sighed as he watched her walk away and kneel down beside a boy in a wheelchair, his legs thin and twisted beneath a folded blanket. The red glow formed around her fingers again.
"Is she doing what I think she's doing?" Clint slipped up beside him a moment later.
"Mm-hm. Wish she'd stop…"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Clint's blue-grey eyes were adoring as he stared at Wanda. "Out of all of us, she's got something that can be used for good purposes, not just killing, and you want her to stop? Hell no."
"If she uses too much of her power she'll burn herself out, Clint!" Pietro hissed in his ear. "Watch her. If her eyes start to get bloodshot you'll need to make her stop."
One startled glance at him, and Clint was nodding, walking over to stand beside Wanda. Pietro sighed. Maybe Wanda would listen to Clint. She certainly never listened to him.
A tiny hand tugged at his pants. Startled, Pietro glanced down and looked into a pair of eyes as blue as his own, pale blond hair in two long braids. There was a plastic tube running up into the little girl's nose.
"Are you Quicksilver, mister?"
"Yes," he said a little uncertainly. "My real name's Pietro, though."
"Cool," the tiny blonde beamed at him enthusiastically, and he found himself smiling back. He'd not had much to do with small children since they left the Romani, and little enough before that. Dropping to one knee so that he was at her eye level, he asked;
"Are you allowed a cookie?" They'd been told to check first, just in case. All the children on this floor were old enough to know whether or not they were allowed them, and which type.
"'Fraid not. But you could give me a kiss." He laughed in surprise, leaned in and kissed her pale cheek. She smiled sunnily. "Thanks. I'm gonna tell all my friends that Quicksilver kissed me, they'll all be jealous. They think you're really cool."
"Am I?"
"Well, yes, because you're like The Flash, only real." Another sunny smile. "I'm Sarah. Have you got a girlfriend? I could be your girlfriend."
Pietro glanced across the room, spotted Darcy handing another bag of cookies to Steve, who was utterly swamped with children. She saw him talking with Sarah and smiled at him. "I do, I'm sorry. Well, there's a girl I like, anyway. I hope she's my girlfriend. I didn't actually ask her, exactly."
"Hm," Sarah cocked her head. "Does she let you kiss her?"
"Er, sometimes?" Oh God, please don't ask me what else Darcy lets me do to her… not that he'd had all that much opportunity, regrettably. Everyone was just so damn busy, Darcy even more than most, as she worked for Stark Industries' PR department and there was a lot of spin to do on the Ultron disaster.
"Then she's your girlfriend. Even if you have been silly and not asked her. Is that her over there, the pretty girl with the blue eyes and the beanie?"
"Yes – how old are you?"
"Six."
"And your superpower is being really observant?"
Sarah smirked at him. "Wasn't difficult. You keep staring at her. Come on. I'm going to be your wingwoman." A tiny, frail hand slipped into his and tugged. Bemused, Pietro stood and let her lead him over to Darcy.
"What's her name?" Sarah whispered as they arrived.
"Darcy," Pietro replied.
"Darcy, Pietro's got something really important to ask you," Sarah said point-blank.
Darcy's eyes widened. A nearby nurse muffled a squeal. "Omigod we're about to witness an Avengers proposal!"
Pietro went bright red and wanted to sink through the floor. Debated using his speed to flee the scene, but Sarah was still holding on to his hand. "No! I – no, oh shi – sugar, I'm gonna stuff this up."
"That's because you're a man and you're all pretty useless. My mum says so," Sarah said bracingly. The giggles started spreading around them and Darcy started grinning. Sarah looked up at her. "Pietro wants you to be his girlfriend."
"Oh," Darcy had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the cornered look on Pietro's face. "What do you think, should I say yes?"
Sarah cocked her head to one side. "Er – well, if you say no, I could be his girlfriend instead. But I think he really likes you, so you'd better say yes. If you like him too, that is."
"Oh, I do. He's really handsome, don't you think?" Darcy said confidingly.
"Awfully." Sarah let out a little giggle, a faint blush coming to her pale cheeks. "And he's really nice, too."
"I know. I think I'd better snap him up quick, huh? Especially since he does seem to have an eye for pretty blondes with long braids." Darcy playfully tweaked one of Sarah's braids. "His accent makes my knees go all weak."
Pietro couldn't help but grin at that, even though he had the horrible feeling that they were now the absolute centre of attention. There were cameras pointed at them, the press who'd been allowed in – only three, Pepper and the hospital had been extremely selective. "Darcy, meiča," he murmured under his breath, "you sure you want to do this? Sarah's railroaded me here, I'm sorry…"
"I think," Darcy took a deep breath, "I think I don't actually have a problem with letting the whole world know you're taken."
"Good," Sarah said decisively. She was still holding Pietro's hand; she grabbed Darcy's and brought the two together. "Now you're boyfriend and girlfriend, you have to hold hands. And you have to let him kiss you whenever he wants to," she looked at Darcy earnestly, "or he might decide he likes me better after all."
"Give her a kiss, Quicksilver!" the bravest – or perhaps just the pushiest – of the photographers called. Natasha gave him a death glare immediately afterwards, but the damage was done, everyone murmuring and staring.
"It's all right," Darcy murmured, quietly, for his ears alone, stepping closer. Reaching her free hand up to his shoulder as she looked up into his eyes. "Like I said. I don't have a problem with letting the whole world know you're mine."
"And you're mine?" He curled his arm around her waist, a smile slowly curving his mouth.
"Just get on with the kissing, we haven't got all day," Sarah sighed, and Darcy laughed as Pietro's mouth came down on hers.
He kept it light, without tongue, aware of the flashes going off behind his closed eyelids. Kissing Darcy was still amazing even so, her plush lips warm and soft under his.
When he opened his eyes, Wanda was standing behind Sarah, hands on the child's shoulders, glowing faintly red. She gave Pietro a soft smile before moving away, and Pietro sighed with relief. He really hadn't wanted to have to go and ask, but he should have known that Wanda would guess.
Dropping back to his knees beside Sarah, he smiled at her. "Hey Sarah, thank you so much. You were a really awesome wingwoman."
She smiled, wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. The flashes were even brighter this time.
"Way to win hearts and influence people," Darcy turned up when he was in the gym the following morning. The photo on the front page of the magazine she waved at him was of Sarah kissing his cheek; the caption screamed AVENGERS' NEW HEARTTHROB BREAKING HEARTS ALL OVER TOWN.
"Ech," he shrugged sheepishly, suddenly aware that he was only wearing a pair of gym shorts as Darcy's gaze roamed over his chest. "She was the heartbreaker, not me."
"Mm. Why do I have the feeling that Sarah is one of quite a few kids from that hospital who are going to be miraculously cured over the next few months?"
"I wouldn't know anything about that," he studiously failed to meet her eyes.
"Hmmm," well, Darcy could allow herself to be distracted. Especially considering how Pietro looked sitting there on the gym bench doing bicep curls with a massive dumbbell. He didn't bother with cardio exercises – not in the gym, anyway, though he liked to annoy Steve by lapping him around Central Park. Which Sam thought was hilarious.
But Pietro did like to do weights, saying something complicatedly mathematical about muscle mass multiplied by velocity equalled momentum. Darcy looked bemused and he laughed. "It just means I hit harder."
"Okay." She eyed the straining muscles of his arms, the single drop of sweat that pooled in the hollow of his throat. "I'm not complaining about the view."
"Yeah?" He gave her his asshole grin, set the dumbbell down and held his hands out. "Come here then, girlfriend." He deliberately thickened his accent, and Darcy helplessly sat down on the end of the gym bench. Strong hands settled on her hips as he dragged her closer, lifted her thighs over his and pulled her into his lap.
"You're all sweaty," Darcy complained a bit breathlessly. She hadn't actually seen him again the previous day after their return from the hospital visit – Nick Fury had been at the Tower waiting for them, and had closeted himself with the Avengers for a meeting that lasted long into the night. Darcy had fallen asleep waiting for Pietro, and woken with the other side of the bed undisturbed. That was fairly normal. He only slept about one night in three anyway.
She'd made coffee, collected the magazine JARVIS advised was waiting for her, checked a few online blogs, and then couldn't wait any longer. It was possibly slightly worrying that JARVIS advised her of Pietro's location when she'd barely opened her mouth, though.
"I could get you sweaty too, meiča," Pietro murmured, nuzzling into her neck, and Darcy totally melted. He'd shaved at some point recently, his cheek smooth as his warm lips caressed her ear.
"Someone could walk in," she protested weakly.
"There's a reason why I like the gym at this time of day. But if it makes you happy – JARVIS, please advise anyone seeking to access this floor that they really don't want to right now."
"Yes, Mr Maximoff," JARVIS said primly.
"Pietro…" Darcy tried for one last protest, but his hands were already easing up under her knit sweater, and she completely lost the will to resist.
"Shh," he whispered against her cheek, and then he took her mouth in a hungry, fierce, possessive kiss.
Darcy moaned into his mouth. He kissed incredibly well, not pushy, just tasting, teasing and tempting with light flicks of his tongue. With his chin smooth against hers, she could have kissed him for hours – except that her ladyparts were frantically clamouring for more, especially since sitting in his lap as she was, she could very clearly feel his arousal pressing at her through the thin fabric of his gym shorts and her jeans.
One of his strong hands was in her hair, stroking through the soft dark strands, the other up her top, teasing her nipples through her bra. And then his fingers tightened and he pulled her head back, gently but firmly, arching her against him, exposing her throat so that he could work his way downwards, licking and nipping lightly.
"Ungh," Darcy moaned again. Her hands had settled on his shoulders, squeezing and rubbing the thick muscles. He was only slightly sweaty really, and it felt good, his skin sleek under her fingers.
"Hands up," Pietro murmured against the hollow of Darcy's throat, and she shivered and lifted her arms, letting him take her top off. He sighed with pleasure as he looked down at her breasts, spilling from the cups of her royal-blue lace bra. "Such gorgeous boobs." Deliberately he bent his head, nuzzled into her cleavage. "I could suffocate here a happy man," he murmured, making Darcy giggle, right up until the moment he bit lightly at her nipple through the lace.
She made an incoherent noise again, running her fingers into his thick silvery-white hair and holding him to her; he smiled against her breast and reached behind her to unclasp her bra, continuing to worship her with his mouth.
"I don't suppose you've got a condom in that oversized purse you lug around everywhere?" he murmured as she ground herself against him, frantic to get some relief from the steadily building pressure in her groin.
"Um. Yeah, probably? Might take me a minute to find it."
"You'd better start looking then, meiča, because in one minute I intend to be fucking you very thoroughly indeed," it was a softly growled statement that had Darcy shivering in his lap, her eyes rolling back in her head.
"Pietro," she moaned his name as he sucked one pouting nipple deep into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it. "I can't. Think. When you're doing that."
He chuckled huskily, but let go and eased her off his lap, back onto the bench, before getting up and picking up the purse she'd put on the floor when she sat down. "Here. Find it, then."
Darcy's hands were shaking as she searched, because Pietro didn't leave her alone. Instead he reseated himself on the bench behind her, hands coming around in front of her and unfastening her jeans, one hand easing down inside to press into her pussy while the other played with her breasts, his hot mouth licking and sucking at her neck.
"Here," Darcy finally gasped in triumph as her fingers closed on the foil packet. "Got it!"
"Good girl," he plucked it from her fingers. "Now get these jeans off."
He'd already removed his shorts, busied himself rolling the condom on as she stood on shaking legs and finished stripping. Darcy hesitated, unsure of what she should do next, but he solved her dilemma by pulling her back down on his lap, facing away from him, her thighs spread and hooked over his. She could feel his sheathed erection pressing against the small of her back.
"Pietro…?" she said a little uncertainly as his arms wrapped around her, and then one warm hand was caressing her breasts, the other sliding between her legs, to where she was spread wide open and wet, eager for him. "Oh. Ohhhh," it was a breathy moan as he plunged his fingers deep, thumb chafing over her clit rapidly, though not yet at the super-speeds of which he was capable.
"Feel good?" Pietro whispered hotly into her ear. "Want to make you feel so good, Darcy…"
All she could do was moan and writhe as he pushed her rapidly up towards orgasm – and just as she got there, tipped over that edge, he pulled his fingers out, lifted her up and dragged her hard down onto his rigid cock.
Darcy yowled, contracting around him, her back arching as her head fell back against his shoulder. Her soft mouth was open, her eyes closed; he could feel her clit throbbing against his fingertips as he vibrated them over her, prolonging her climax until she sobbed and pushed at his hand.
"Too much, please…"
"Shh, meiča," he murmured, nibbling delicately on her earlobe. "I have you." He waited until her tremors had subsided, until she leaned back against him utterly relaxed, before putting both hands on her breasts, teasing and plucking at her nipples until she was writhing and moaning on him again.
"That's, uhn," Darcy couldn't think, not considering the way he felt inside her, hot and thick but not moving, only his hands on her breasts giving her the stimulation she needed. She put her hand down herself to stroke her clit, only to have him suddenly grab both her hands and bring them to the small of her back, holding them both in one of his big ones.
"I'll take care of you, meiča," Pietro said softly, bending his head to nip at her shoulder lightly even as he started to vibrate his fingertip over Darcy's clit again.
"Please," she sobbed it, writhing frantically, "please, move, Pietro, I need it, I need you to fuck me…"
He let out another growl at that before letting her hands go, encouraging her to place them on the bench in front of her and lean forward – at which point he grasped both her hips in his hands and began to move, just as she'd asked, fucking into her fast and hard, looking down and staring with awed delight at the sight of his cock shuttling in and out of her soaked tunnel from behind.
"Darcy," he groaned, close to the edge, lost in sensation. Unaware that he lost his concentration then and lapsed into his native tongue. "Oh damn, Darcy, you're so perfect, so beautiful, I'm so crazy about you, oh baby, that's it, just there, yes, please, oh hell I'm coming…"
He was growling out guttural words she didn't understand, except for her name, but she could guess from the tone of his voice what he was saying. All men got that strained note when they got close to the end, Pietro was no exception it seemed – he was going faster again, faster than any normal human could achieve, the friction his speed created inside her felt utterly wonderful, and suddenly Darcy was flying again, garbled moans bubbling up out of her chest as he spilled inside her with a shout of her name.
Slipping out of Darcy a few moments later, Pietro gathered her gently back against him. She laid her head against his shoulder, panting softly to regain her breath as he nuzzled her throat.
"You all right, meiča?" he whispered softly after she'd gone quiet and relaxed against him.
"Mm," she sighed, turned her head and kissed his jaw. "So much better than just all right."
His arms were firmly wrapped around her, and Darcy somehow didn't feel at all uncomfortable that they were both nude in the gym in the middle of the afternoon. Not with his breath warm on her neck as he placed soft kisses down her neck. Eyes closed, she lay still and relaxed against him. Right up until the moment when JARVIS let out a discreet chime.
"Mr Maximoff, Miss Lewis, I apologise for the interruption, but Mr Stark is most insistent that he wishes to use the gym at this time. And I am instructed to inform you that You are disinfecting that bench, Roadrunner!" The last six words were a recording of Stark's voice.
"Give us five minutes, JARVIS," Pietro said with a sigh.
"I regret that I am unable to comply…" the elevator doors pinged and started to open.
"Stark, if you walk out of that elevator right now I will tell Pepper you deliberately pulled a Peeping Tom on us!" Darcy yelled.
The doors slid noiselessly shut again.
Everyone's favourite cookies – because I'm weird… and I have to fill in details like this…
Pietro – Cherry choc-chip
Wanda – Cinnamon-ginger spice
Clint – Jaffa (orange chocolate)
Pepper – Rum-spiked brown sugar
Bruce – Green tea shortbread
Tony – Peanut butter cookies studded with (only red) Smarties
Steve – ANZAC biscuits (he picked up the addiction fighting alongside Australians in WWII)
Natasha – Russian tea biscuits (flavoured with vodka and hazelnuts)
Sam – Coconut macaroons
Thor – Chocolate cookies with soft chocolate fudge centres (they remind him of pop-tarts)
Jane – Raspberry star cookies
Rhodey – Nutmeg maple butter cookies
Maria Hill – Almond biscotti
Fury – Gingerbread men (he likes to bite off their heads…)
Darcy – likes all the cookies. She doesn't play favourites.