Hey, lovelies! VDC here! I’ll be taking Darcyland prompts again this weekend. I’m posting the list here for inspiration, but if you’ve got another prompt you’re just dying to have written, send it my way! OT3+ welcome and encouraged, so don’t be shy! The dirtier, the kinkier, the better- and remember: You must be 18+ to prompt.
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December 24 - “You know what material this is? [Grab your shirt] Boyfriend/Girlfriend material.” Darcy/Pietro for @tinydear
The knock at Darcy’s office door couldn’t have come at a worse possible moment. She sucked in a deep breath and groped for tissues, blotting hastily at her eyes, castigating herself for giving in to her weakness while at work. The door wasn’t even properly shut.
It swung wider now, propelled by the man who entered immediately, saying “Help, Darcy, I have no idea what to say to this list of questions Sixteen magazine have sent me…” he froze half-way into sinking into the seat opposite her. “You’re crying.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Darcy mopped more fiercely at her face. “Not crying. Nope.”
Pietro eyed her for a moment before he stood up, shut the door, and sat back down again. “There. The whole PR department saw me come in here, so they won’t interrupt and your assistant can get your calls. If you need to have a good cry, you can do so without being interrupted. I’ll just, um, read this book.” He picked a book at random off the shelf by her desk.
It was such a sweet gesture that Darcy lost it and started bawling again. Shoulders shaking, face buried in her hands, it took a moment for her to recognise the gentle pressure on her shoulders as Pietro hugging her. She turned her face against his chest and sobbed her heart out.
“Why do you cry so, Darcy?” Pietro asked gently as her sobs finally slowed. “Who has done this to you?” Rage welled in his chest at the thought of someone hurting Darcy. She was generous and kind, had been the first ‘normal’ to befriend him and Wanda when they joined the Avengers. Wanda had trusted her utterly from the first moment, which was all the character reference Pietro would ever need.
“Ian,” Darcy hiccoughed against his shoulder finally.
“Your boyfriend?”
“Ex-boyfriend. Ex-fuck buddy, apparently, I didn’t actually rate high enough to be his girlfriend. Since he just changed his Facebook status to ‘In A Relationship’. With someone who is not me. I never rated anything more than ‘It’s Complicated’.”
The thought had more tears running down her cheeks. “I was never good enough for him,” she sniffled, mopping at her nose with her wad of tissues. “I was only good enough for regular booty calls.”
Pietro growled something under his breath. Darcy blinked, looked up at him through watery eyes. “What?”
“He is a šupak! A… how do you say… shitass!”
Darcy laughed through her tears. “I think you mean asshole, but I actually really like that description. Ian the Shitass.”
“He is a shitass, and a stupid one too!” Pietro stroked her hair gently, before taking hold of the hem of her sleeve and tugging at it. “Do you know what this is, Darcy?”
She blinked damply at him, looked at her sleeve. “Uh… cotton-rayon blend, I think?”
“It is girlfriend material, Darcy. You are girlfriend material. Ian is the stupidest shitass in the world if he cannot see that.”
“Oh… stop being adorable. You’re going to make me cry more.”
“Don’t cry.” He wiped his thumbs gently beneath her eyes. “If you were my girlfriend, I would do anything so that you would not cry, Darcy.”
She stared at him silently, her big blue eyes wide, despite their red rims, and Pietro did what he’d been longing to do since the day they met, though he’d never have made a move while she was still dating Ian. He leaned forward and kissed her red, swollen, trembling lips.
Darcy grins, sits with her back to him on the edge of the bed as she pulls a pin out of her hair and makes it unfurl into a beautiful mess of curls over her shoulders. He’d spent all night wanting to do this very thing, partly because she almost looked pained at one point with all those pins tugging at her scalp, holding her intricate braid in place atop her head. But also because he kind of loves how silky and soft her hair feels on his fingertips, loves the little purr she lets out when he massages the pads of his thumbs over her scalp. He scoots himself across their bed to do this very thing, grinning when Darcy sighs in content and leans back into his hand. She looks so sexy like this, with her hair down and the top half of her dress pooled at her hips, exposing her black, lacy bra to him.
“She’s only younger than you by twelve minutes,” Darcy reminds, casting a smirk over her shoulder at him as she lifts her hips up and shimmies her dress down her legs. “And they left no more than an hour ago.”
“On their honeymoon,” Pietro adds with a bit of a scowl. He likes Bucky just fine – obviously, since he gave the guy his blessing when he’d asked for Wanda’s hand in marriage – but that doesn’t mean he wants to think of what those two will do when they get to their suite. Or right now, on the plane. He shudders.
“Stop pouting,” Darcy laughs.
“I’m not.”
“Yeah?” She reaches over and brushes her thumb over his lower lip, and he catches her wrist in his hand and kisses just over her pulse.
“I’m not,” he insists. She arches an eyebrow at him, and she looks so ridiculously beautiful like this, casting a knowing smirk over her shoulder with her hair all undone and her body half-turned away from him, drawing his eyes down her curves. He grins, and she only has a second to realize what he’s about to do before he’s hooking an arm around her waist and drawing a squeal as he rolls them over and pins her to the mattress beneath him.
She presses her hands flat against his abs, trailing her fingers over his chest as she smooths them up and over his shoulders, tugging him even closer.
“Then show me how much you’re not pouting.”
He laughs – he’s always loved a good challenge, especially from Darcy – and dips his head down, sealing a wet kiss over the column of her throat, just above her pulse, and then smirks against her skin at the way her body curls against his. It’s easy to get lost in her, in her laughter and her scent and her touch, and he winks at her when he’s between her legs, her fingers tugging at his hair to draw him closer, draw his lips and his tongue where he’s purposefully avoiding.
“Okay,” he admits, giving a soft lick, watching her body bend. “Maybe I was pouting, but only because I wanted you to distract me.”
“Liar,” she breathes. He laughs. “So, are you distracted or what?”
“Not yet,” he answers, and then rolls his tongue, smirking at the way his name sounds on her lips as she whines for more.
Later, when he’s tugged the blanket over them and she’s tucked herself as close as physically possible, she presses a soft kiss to his collarbone.
“She seems happy,” Darcy comments.
“Very,” Pietro agrees.
“Are you happy?”
He closes his eyes, tips his head to press a kiss into her hair, and she tightens her hold on him ever so slightly. “Very.” She smiles up at him and tilts her head up to kiss him, and he murmurs an I love you against her lips.
A/N: Okay. This was so cute I want to scream. High School AU. Pietro and Wanda aren’t exchange students, but they just moved to the States from Sokovia. No superheros, either.
I Can’t Hide (I Want To Hold Your Hand)
Pietro glanced over at her. The flickering light of the big screen at onceilluminating her face and casting shadows. His gaze flitted down, to the arm rest. Where she had her hand. He didn’tknow why he was suddenly nervous. Thiswas Darcy.
Darcy Lewis. Definitely not the only person to befriend him since he’d moved to theStates, but one of the first who did it because she genuinely wanted to, andnot just because he was foreign either.
That’s how everyone else viewed him. A badge. A notch. A check on a bucket list of people. He might not have noticed it at first. But now he did.
He was something they could brag about to theirfriends. “I took the Sokovian kid to the mall with me.” “Oh really? I went with him to the dance!” “Oh wow. You’re a great person.” “I know,right?”
Charitable friendship, Wanda called it.
He and his sister were novelties. And as soon as someone new moved to town, oran exchange student flew in, they’d be cast aside like birthday toys atChristmas.
The first time Darcy asked him to hang out, he’d said no. He’dstill been under the illusion that he was popular. She wasn’t anyone to speak of. She’d shrugged and walked away, “Suityourself, Wonder Boy.”
She’d called him that since he set that record for the 100-meterdash in gym. Before the track coach hadconvinced him to join the team. He wasstill breaking records. Not that anyonein this town cared anything about sports unless it was Football in the fall orBaseball in the Spring. Basketball inthe Winter. Basically, if you didn’tmove a ball around, it didn’t count for much.
Darcy was seemingly everywhere and nowhere at all. Flitting in and out of classes, chewing onthe end of her pencil and staring dreamily at a spot four feet in front ofher. Head in the clouds. Yearbookstaff. Which translated to beingeverywhere.
She’d asked him again at the dance. He’d gone with the head cheerleader. Until she’d left him out behind the cafeteriato go fuck her boyfriend in the back of his truck.
Darcy was suddenly there, outside the cafeteria, not chewingon a pencil, but still there. Besidehim. When he was pissed and didn’t wantto see anyone.
“Wanna go hang out?” she’d asked.
“NO,” he’d blurted, leaning back against the brick wallbehind him, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Okay,” she’d said pleasantly, leaning back beside him. “Need a ride home?”
He’d set his jaw and nodded.
She hadn’t said a word on the way to his house.
Picked up a pile of papers and books off her front seat,tossing it into the back, sliding a bunch of wrappers onto the floor. Reaching for the adjustment lever so hewouldn’t have to.
He gave her directions, but that was all the talking therewas.
Just her humming along to a song on the radio. The volume was so low, he couldn’t evenfigure out which song.
She let him out in front of the house, waving as he gotout. He just stared at her car, a maroonhatchback, puttering its way up the street, before turning around himself andgoing inside.
The following Monday, she started sitting with him atlunch. No prelude. Just the soft thump of her lunchbox and the scrapeysound of a chair being pulled out.
He would have told her to leave, but she just satthere. Didn’t talk to him at all. Talked a hell of a lot to Wanda, when shejoined them.
But not a word to him. Not that first day.
Not the second either.
Not a word until he forced himself into theirconversation. And she’d turned andlocked eyes with him.
Blue eyes. Blue-gray. Why hadn’t he noticedthat before?
Which brought them to where they were. Seated in a dark movie theater. The shared arm rest currently occupied by herarm. Light skin, a few freckles. A Spongebob wrist watch. A green beaded bracelet. Chewed on fingernails and picked at cuticles.
He glanced up at her face again, her eyes were castdownward, looking at his hand, currently on his knee. Her bottom lip was between her teeth.
This is Darcy. She’s not going to reject you…
He took a deep breath and went for it. His hand closing around hers, fingertipsdragging lazily as she turned it so their palms were pressed together. A little shiver went through him when shelaced her fingers with his, thumb stroking gently.
He exhaled simultaneously with her, glancing over andsmiling slightly. Crookedly. Because they were both idiots and now theyknew it.
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She kept saying she had work in the morning. That she should get to sleep.
She said it a billion times.
And Pietro knew he should leave. Let her sleep. He didn’t have work, but he didn’t want herhaving to go in super tired.
But every time she said it, she found another reason to keephim here. Another topic.
He’d honestly never spent the night with a woman and had itbe just this. Just talking. Hugging a throw pillow to his chest while helounged on the floor with her in front of her bed.
The light from her TV was casting a flickering blue hue overeverything. Reflecting off herglasses.
She’d invited him up, and he’d gone, not really sure if theywere at the point in their relationship where sex should come into it.
Darcy wasn’t sure either, judging by the way her gaze hadwandered over the bed, ignoring its existence. Like it was there only to hold the throw pillows they eventuallysituated themselves with on the floor in front of her TV.
His shoes came off after hers. Only after she’d asked him to take themoff.
Her apartment was small. A studio. The bathroom was aboutfive paces away. Kitchen about ten. It smelled like her. Lemons and vanilla. Cookies.
They didn’t discuss it. What they were doing. They’d been on three dates. Three was apparently the magic number.
But this.
This was almost better.
Almost. Because noone was going to believe him if he said talking was better than sex.
The way she laughed. The way she looked when she was tired. Eyes red, watery. Laughing atthings he said that shouldn’t be funny, but they were because it was four inthe morning.
She kissed him a few times. Just casual pecks, though. Herlips smacking against his, tasting a little like the cinnamon gum shechewed.
Nothing like the kisses they shared outside her door beforeshe invited him in. Mouths open, hertongue gently prodding. Once they cameinside, the kisses became chaste. Innocent. Like she was scared tolet herself go there.
He wasn’t sure, so he figured he would err on the side ofcaution. Let her take the lead. It was refreshing. No worries. Like riding in the passenger seat on a long night drive.
It was warm. It wassafe. It was nice.
He must have fallen asleep. He awoke with the sun streaming in the window. Her cat was laying in the sunspot, annoyedthat he was in the way. There was a notefolded in his hand.
“Had a lot of fun,couldn’t bear to wake you. You’re cutewhen you’re sleeping. Coffee in the kitchen. Lock the door on your way out.Call me later. Darcy.”
It was actually one of the less awkward ways he’d woken upin a woman’s apartment.
He got up, groaning as his back popped, awkwardly stiff onone side.
He poured himself a cup of coffee, drinking it black becauseshe didn’t have much milk left. Her catwound itself around his legs having followed him out to the kitchen. He noted how strange it was that he hadn’tseen the feline prowling around the night before. Or, he just hadn’t been payingattention. Darcy HAD mentioned she had acat.
A quick glance at the clock on the wall told him it wasclose to ten, so he downed the rest of his coffee quickly, and hand washed themug. Something he didn’t even do athome, but he felt obligated to here.
He did a quick pocket check and left, locking the door asper her instructions.
Well, if I’m dead seton doing everything in that note…
He pulled out his phone, thumb lingering over her numberbefore tapping the screen.
She answered on the second ring. “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty.”
He chuckled, “If that were true, you should have kissed meawake before you left.”
He could almost hear the grin in her voice, “Maybe I DID,but it didn’t work.”
A/N: Okay, so this prompt gave me feels about a fic idea I’ve been floating around for a while, and I’ll probably use this as the preface for that fic whenever I get around to writing it. Basically, Pietro is in a coma after Sokovia, and Darcy is in and out of his hospital room, helping Wanda. Anyway, the ship is a little one-sided at this point, but I really liked writing this! OTP feels ftw!
Tomorrow Never Knows
Pietro was aware. Regardless of what the nurses said.
He could hear everything. It was just…muffled and out of context.
He could sense Wanda in the room. Could sense her fear. Her anger. Her worry.
He tried to communicate with her, knowing she was reachingout with her mind, trying to will himself to open his eyes.
It was like sleep, but not. Sleep was warm. Comforting.This was cold and oppressive. Muffling his senses. A distant hum that never faltered.
Six rounds from heavy artillery. That’s what took him down. He remembered that like it wasyesterday. It hadn’t hurt…it just hadmade everything slow. Like before.
No, what had hurt was the cradle. The rounds of resuscitation. Dying waspainless. Being brought back was excruciating.
Trying to open his eyes was exhausting.
The first time he succeeded, Wanda wasn’t in the room.
SHE was, though.
An angel, he thought immediately. Cascading lengths of brown hair, biggrayish-blue eyes, almost silver. She’dsmiled at him, revealing a gap in her front teeth. It was cute. She was beautiful, setting a vase of flowers on his bedside table.
Just a snapshot, nothing more. He only kept his eyes open for a few secondsbefore succumbing to the cold sleep again. It was the first thing he’d seensince Sokovia, so he committed it all to memory.
He thought about his angel all the time. How the light in the room made her hairshine. How she’d smiled at him like she’dbeen waiting for him.
He was vaguely aware of voices. Wanda was disappointed that she hadn’t beenthere.
She tried in earnest to breach his mind after that.
And he wanted to let her in. He did.
But it was like she was chipping away at an ice block tenfeet thick.
The second time he opened his eyes, both Wanda and his angelwere in the room. Talking. Wanda was smiling.
Neither of them saw him, but he watched them both for whatfelt like an eon, but was in reality about thirty seconds.
And he heard her speak. Now he could pick out her voice when she talked to him.
He was trying to remember if he knew her. Did he?
Maybe.
No. No, he would remember someone like her.
The third time, he opened his eyes, he was alone. But he kept them open, even chancing toblink.
He was ecstatic.
He looked around the room, finally able to make out hissurroundings. He was in the cradlestill. In a hospital room of sorts. There was a window.
He couldn’t move, couldn’t turn his head. Could only move his eyes.
Wanda’s excited squeal got his attention. She rushed to his side. “Pietro! Mojbrat!”
He looked at her, looked past her to the doorway, where hisangel stood, leaning against the door frame.
He looked back at Wanda, willing her to use her mind.
Can you hear me,Pietro?
-…Yes…
Are you hurting?
-No. Are you alright? Did everything…?
I’m fine, Pietro…Howare—
-Wanda…tell me…what isher name?
Who??
-Anđele moj…my angel…
Wanda turned towards the doorway, turning back with an annoyed, yet placating look on her face.
I should haveknown. Pietro…always thinking with your—
-Her name?
She spoke it aloud, “Darcy.”
The beauty herself responded, “Hmm? Want me to get the nurse? Wanda?”
Wanda smiled, shaking her head.
You are an idiot,brother of mine.
-Tell her I asked…
His sister rolled her eyes.
Fine.
-Tell her I think sheis beautiful. Ask her to visit me…askher to talk to me…tell her…
His eyes fell shut again before he was ready, the coldtaking over without warning. Wanda’smuffled voice was frantic.
But he felt peaceful. Darcy. His angel had a name andit was Darcy. He let his body rest. Knowing that he could and would see heragain.
Post AoU AU. Pietro lives. In which, Darcy is coming in with a freshly broken heart and that tall drink of Patron Silver lounging on Tony's couch looks like her next mistake. And Pietro is kind of a hound, but he's looking for more and finds it in Stark's outspoken, quirky lab assistant.
