That Accent Is Definitely A Superpower, Part 4
Darcy attempts to plan the birthday party. Pietro's much more interested in other things.
Darcy squealed with delight when Pietro told her rather sheepishly that he and Wanda had chosen a date for their arbitrary birthday. And then she squealed with horror. "But that's only a week away!"
He shrugged. "Why would that matter?"
"These things take time to organise, Pietro, and not everyone lives at warp speed like you do!"
"Darcy," he reached for her and pulled her into his arms, bending his head to kiss her. "Neither Wanda nor I care if we just have a shop-bought cake and a Chinese takeout. As long as our friends are there – and when you boil it right down, as long as Clint and you are there – it'll be the best damn birthday we could ask for."
She smiled against his lips. "That's just made me more determined than ever, you realise."
"Best-laid plans, meiča. Don't get too carried away. You know if you do, the Assemble alarm will go off and we'll all get called away," he warned pessimistically.
"Bite your tongue!"
He looked puzzled, and she remembered, again, that English wasn't his first language and he was occasionally bemused by colloquialisms. "I mean, don't say things like that. Think positive. Nothing bad's going to happen and I'm going to make sure you have the best birthday ever." Her hands slid down his front. "And then I'll give you the best birthday present ever," she purred, looking up at him through her lashes.
Pietro's eyes gleamed back at her. "I think I'd like to unwrap that early," and he was suddenly whisking her off her feet and zooming them to her apartment. Darcy let out a small shriek and buried her face in his neck – it was seriously disconcerting and not a little nauseating to see everything move so fast – and then he was easing her down on her bed, tugging her shirt up and off over her head before he let her lie down.
"I've told you not to do that!" she batted at his shoulders gently.
"Did you? I must not have understood you." He thickened his accent quite deliberately, watched her eyelids flutter and her breasts start to heave as she began to pant. "Sometimes, my English isn't so good."
"You're such an asshole," she moaned as he unfastened her jeans.
"That word, see, I don't know that one. Does it mean 'sex god'?"
"Fuck you!" but she was laughing, wriggling out of her jeans as he pushed them down.
"Oh, I'd certainly like it if you did that, meiča," he purred, kissing his way up her inner thigh, nuzzling against panties that were decidedly damp, sliding deft fingers into the waistband to pull them downwards. "You can fuck me any way you like."
"You're so damn snarky with that mouth," Darcy said, but she trailed off in a moan as he buried his face between her thighs and started suckling on her clit. He pulled off long enough to say;
"You like my mouth," but she couldn't even hear him over her own breathless cries of ecstasy.
He was very good with his mouth. Especially when he used his tongue at that particular frequency of vibration that he'd quickly learned drove her utterly mad. Darcy sobbed as he stopped suddenly, right at the edge of her climax.
"P-please! Oh god, oh Pietro, please…"
He chuckled again and plunged two fingers deep inside her suddenly. Darcy squealed and clenched down on him convulsively, her heels drumming on the mattress as her back arched.
"So fucking beautiful," Pietro couldn't help but groan, staring at her in awe, at the blissful expression on her face, at the way her dark hair tangled as she tossed her head from side to side, her plush lips swollen and pink as she bit at them. He prolonged the climax for her as long as he could, but eventually she reached down and grabbed at his wrist, stilling his hand.
"Get undressed," Darcy panted, her eyes still closed as she recovered. Pietro slipped his hand from her and she felt the bed shift as he got up, heard the soft sounds of him stripping his clothes off. She opened her eyes because she didn't want to miss the show, smiled with pleasure as she caught sight of him with his arms up over his head pulling his shirt off. He might not be as bulky as some of the other Avengers, but he was gorgeous, broad-shouldered and leanly muscled like an Olympic swimmer. And more than strong enough to hold her not-particularly-light form up against the shower wall and screw her until she couldn't walk straight, as she'd already discovered.
He was fishing in the nightstand drawer for a condom, ripping the foil with his teeth before rolling the rubber on down his (very erect) cock. Darcy eyed him hungrily as he knelt on the bed beside her.
"What do you want, meiča?" he asked softly.
"Lay down," she said, after thinking about it for a moment. She still had her bra on, which was surprising considering how much he loved her breasts. Unfastening it and tossing it aside, she grinned as he licked his lips, unable to look away from her breasts even as he laid down on his back. "See something you like, Quicksilver?"
She didn't use his code name often, but there was something about the intensity of his expression at that moment that caused it to slip out.
She didn't understand the guttural words he growled out in return, and he shook his head in impatience, realising he'd failed to speak in English. "You're beautiful, Darcy. I adore everything about you. Come put those fabulous tits in my face. Please."
"Well," she smiled, "since you asked so nicely…" she swung a leg across his lean hips, straddling his body, and leaned forward.
Pietro groaned as Darcy's generous, pillowy breasts tumbled into his face. Kissing at them eagerly, he reached his hands up, filling them to overflowing with soft white flesh, flicking quickly at her erect nipples with the tips of his thumbs before sucking one into his mouth and worrying at it gently with his tongue and teeth.
Darcy moaned as he expertly teased her breasts, and then his free hand slid down in between them and curled up into her cleft, rubbing over her still-sensitive clit until she began to shake, clawing at the sheets and letting out breathy little cries. Letting her nipple out of his mouth with a pop, he settled both hands on her hips and held her still, planting his heels on the mattress before pushing slowly up into her, his cock sinking into her agonisingly slowly.
She cried out his name and tried to push down harder, but he held on tight, not letting her move until he was ready. "Steady, meiča," he said through gritted teeth. "Steady, or I'll come too quick for you. You feel so good. So wet and tight, you make me want you so bad." He was concentrating to say it in English, make sure she understood, and knew from the way she smiled softly down at him that she did.
"You're so hard," Darcy whispered back as he finally let her sink all the way down on him, seating herself on his hips. "So thick, so hard – I feel stretched."
"It doesn't hurt you?" he checked. "Never want to hurt you, meiča…"
"Only in a good way," she groaned as he rotated his hips in a slow circle. "Pietro." As he returned his fingers to playing with her clit again.
"Want to feel you come on me," he almost snarled it, blue eyes locked with hers. "Ride me, Darcy, milk me dry, take it all."
She moaned again at the filthy words, and then leaned forward and grabbed onto the headboard behind his head. He let out a delighted gasp as her breasts swung in his face, kissed at them, turned his head to catch a nipple between his lips and suckle on it as Darcy rocked back and forth against him, sliding slickly along the length of his arousal.
"Darcy," he growled out a minute or so later, letting her nipple slip from his mouth. "I need – I need faster."
She was so close to orgasm she wouldn't have cared what he asked for at that moment. "Yes," was all she moaned, and suddenly he was flipping them over, pressing her down to her back, his elbows hooking under her knees as he thrust harder and faster, faster, faster… Darcy's back bowed and she let out a scream of ecstasy as the climax hit like a tidal wave.
Pietro cried out as well as her muscles tightened around him in a wet, sucking clasp that felt like a bolt of lightning straight up his spine. He stilled, letting her legs drop to the mattress, leaning down on his hands and breathing hard, eyes closed as little aftershocks rippled through him. And then he groaned theatrically and collapsed down onto Darcy, though he made sure to catch his weight on his elbows and not crush her.
She laughed softly and put her arms around him, stroking her hands down his back. He kissed her, long and slow, savouring her mouth before pressing his face against her neck and just breathing in her scent as she held him close.
"God damn it, Pietro," Darcy complained a little later, "all that precious party planning time, wasted!"
"I would not say it was time wasted, meiča, indeed I would say it was time very well spent," he arched his eyebrows at her.
Darcy laughed a very satisfied laugh into the pillow. He smirked happily. "Stop stressing about a party, meiča. Buy some alcohol and a cake. That'll do fine."
It will most certainly not do fine, Darcy didn't say out loud. Buy a cake, indeed! Grandma Lewis would roll over in her grave. The alcohol was probably a good idea, though. Considering how much the Avengers could drink when they got going. Though she could almost certainly leave that to JARVIS. And the invites. Almost everyone who Pietro and Wanda would want at the party lived in the Tower anyway, there were only really Rhodey and Sam who weren't resident, and Sam was moving into the apartment Tony had set up for him in a couple of weeks…
"That's your thinking face again," Pietro chided, "stop worrying about the damn party. Seriously. And no balloons. If they go pop you'll have a whole bunch of superheroes, all of whom have PTSD in varying degrees, blowing holes in Stark's walls. Again."
That – was quite true. Darcy mentally crossed surprise anything off her lists. Which pretty much left… Spin The Bottle. Or Seven Minutes In Heaven. Though she had no plans to be kissing, or spending time in a closet, with anyone other than Pietro. And Clint would probably go super-assassin on anyone who even looked at Wanda sideways. Fun though it would be to try and shove Tony and Bruce in a closet together. Or Tony and Steve. Or Tony and Rhodey, come to think of it. Steve and anybody. Darcy snort-laughed into her pillow at the thought.
"That's a wicked laugh, please don't do whatever you're plotting."
"No, I don't think I could get anyone to go along with it," Darcy said. She tried to tell him about Seven Minutes In Heaven, and then had to explain from the beginning the point of the game.
"Ah, so it's just an excuse for teenagers to randomly make out in closets?" Pietro summed up accurately.
"… Yes? It works best if everyone playing is rather attractive. Which is most definitely the case here. Let's face it, thinking about any random pair of the Avengers getting it on could fuel my spank bank fantasies for weeks. And did, before you came along."
Pietro had to laugh. "Well," he murmured, his hands curving over her breasts again, "I'd hope I keep you satisfied enough that you don't need to be fantasising about my team-mates."
"Don't worry," she ran her fingers into his thick silvery hair, tugged until he kissed her, and then smirked at him, "you and that damnable accent of yours are the only thing that's been featuring in my fantasies for a while now."
He chuckled darkly. "You're getting used to the accent. You don't have to hold onto a chair any more when I speak."
"True. My panties still get wet, though."
His blue eyes flew very wide, and then he laughed. "Do they! I shall have to test that out sometime." His fingers trailed down her belly. "Maybe now?"
"I'm not wearing panties."
"No, but you are wet for me," his voice dropped to a low, husky rasp. And if she hadn't already been lying down, Darcy's knees would indeed have given up the ghost once again. She made a small keening sound instead as he started to play with her clit again, saw him smile.
"Asshole," she panted out.
"There's that word again. I still don't know what it means. Is it a word for please? Please, more, Pietro, is that what you're trying to say?"
She could only sob with want as two long fingers plunged deep suddenly. "Please," she whimpered as he withdrew them, tracing tantalising slow circles over her inner thighs.
"There, you see? I knew it."
"You ass – oh God, please!"
"You don't have to call me God, either."
"Pietro, shut up and fuck me!"
He is SUCH an asshole. A very sexy one, though, so Darcy doesn't really care.
Still at least one more chapter to go in this fic, because I really am going to write the birthday party. Eventually.