Chapter Text
You ran a hand though your freshly curled hair, watching how the (h/c) locks fell over your bare shoulder. The dress you'd chosen was an old, but beautiful, dark purple, one shoulder thing that fell to just above your knees. You perched on the edge of your bed to roll a pair of sheer, tan tights up your legs, praying silently that your freshly painted nails wouldn't stab a hole through the flimsy material. Thankfully, you got the tights on without incident, and you went into the bathroom to finish applying your make-up. Studying yourself in the mirror, you nodded, thinking you looked, at the very least, acceptable. Your (e/c) eyes were outlined with a thin line of black kohl, smudged artfully at the edges and blended in to your eye-shadow. Your lips were ruby red, and you checked your teeth, to ensure they weren't stained crimson. You had only brushed on some bronzer across your cheeks, to emphasise your cheekbones and add some colour to your complexion. Returning to your bedroom, you found the black heels that were very old, but very comfortable.
A bottle of (y/f/p) sat on the side of your dresser, and you spritzed a little around your neck and wrists, inhaling the deep, sensual scent and smiling. You were nervous; how could you not be?
You were going on a date with Pietro Maximoff- the man who's life you'd saved only a week beforehand. He was beautiful, you had to admit that. His skin had become darker as he recovered, the pasty tone caused by the severe blood loss he'd suffered from slowly fading away as he grew healthier. He had a jaw that could slice steel, intense blue eyes that made your stomach flip whenever they met yours. He was muscled, but not in a Captain America way – he was leaner, with wild silver hair he refused to cut. You smiled. He was obviously very stubborn.
He'd insisted on taking you out to dinner- you thought it was a date, at least, you hoped it was one. You weren't too sure. He arrived right on time, knocking rapidly on your front door. When you opened it, you had to take a moment to collect yourself as you took in his fantastically handsome appearance. He'd donned a dark suit, with a black tie and crisp, white shirt. He smiled at you, and held up a bouquet of beautiful flowers; white carnations, red roses- and a few of your very favourites; cowslips. You thanked him for the flowers, inviting him to step inside while you put them in water.
'You look very beautiful.' He commented in that deep, accented voice that almost brought you to your knees. You felt your cheeks flushing, and you stuttered out another shy thank you. Pietro smiled, watching you filling up an unused glass vase, noting the gentleness with which you handled the flowers. How careful you were as you slipped them into the vase, arranging them so you could see each and every flower individually. Picking your bag and leather jacket, you shrugged it over your shoulders and looked over towards the quickster. 'Ready to go?'
He held out his arms, in an 'after you' gesture. Reaching the bottom floor of your apartment block, you stepped out into the cool night air; only to freeze in shock. A large, sleek limo was waiting on the curb. Surely, that wasn't for you...?
Pietro moved around you, opening the door and holding it for you. You stared at him, completely awed. 'Pietro!' You gasped, stepping closer. 'You didn't have to go through all this trouble for me..' He simply quirked an eyebrow. 'It is no trouble. I intend on making sure my saviour has a very enjoyable night.' He winked as he spoke, and you swallowed hard, suddenly very red.
The ride to the restauraunt was smooth and comfortable; and a bottle of champagne on ice awaited you upon your arrival. Pietro had obviously gotten Stark to pull some strings, you had heard of this restauraunt before and knew that it was extremely difficult to get a reservation- and impossible at such short notice. Still, the Sokovian's efforts were more than appreciated as you bit into the most delicious (y/f/f) that you had ever tasted in your life. A moan accidentally escaped your lip as you swallowed the warm food, and Pietro smirked across the table, sipping from his glass. 'You like?' He asked quietly, in a devious voice. You nodded, digging in with enthusiasm. The night passed in a blur of laughter, champagne, and fun. You enjoyed Pietro's company, and he clearly enjoyed yours.
Dessert was brought out, a thick, luscious slice of (y/f/d) for you, a crystal bowl of sherry trifle, stooped in cream, for Pietro. You'd never tasted any cuisine that was so delicately flavoured and so damn gorgeous. You smiled around the fork between your lips, dreamily. A gorgeous date, gorgeous champagne, gorgeous food.. A blur of silver caught your attention, and you gasped as you caught Pietro stealing a spoonful of your desert. 'Excuse me!' You said sternly, pretending to be outraged. You reached out your finger, scooping some cream up and sliding the digit into your mouth. You licked it off and locked eyes with Pietro, who suddenly shifted in his seat as his pupils dilated.
'Naughty girl.' He muttered softly, eyes never leaving yours. You smirked, feeling heat rushing down between your legs. After dinner, Pietro escorted you to another part of the large building- a ballroom, filled with lover's swaying to a deep, husky voice singing songs about falling in love under the night sky. Leading you out to the dance-floor, Pietro wrapped one strong arm around your wrist, tangling his fingers into yours with his free hand. You put yours onto his shoulder, and let him waltz you around the sleek wooden floor. He spun and dipped you, a beautiful, sparkling smile never fading from his pale lips the whole night. Your cheeks ached; you hadn't stopped smiling, either. It was fantastic, and as Pietro twirled you around and then brought you back in, close to him, you knew you were falling, fast, for Quicksilver. He returned you to your flat, sometime after midnight, escorting you right to the door to ensure you got back safely.
'Well, Pietro, I had a really amazing time tonight. Thank you.' You pushed a strand of your now-wild hair from your face, smiling. 'No, no, thank you for allowing me to spend the evening in your company. I, too, had a very enjoyable night. I hope we can do it again, sometime.' He hinted at another date, and you tilted your head, biting down on your lip coyly.
'I'd really like that.' You confessed, bringing an ever brighter spark to his already beaming face.
He took your hand, bringing it to his lips, dropping a soft kiss to your knuckles.
'Until next time, draga mea.' He whispered in a low voice, his icy blues staring deep into your (y/e/c). Your stomach flipped, tying itself up in knots as you relished the softness of his lips on your skin. Speechless, you simply nodded. He dropped your hand, reluctantly. You stepped forward, before he could make his exit, so that you were standing chest-to-chest. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, one thumb brushing over your lower lip. You leaned up, your heads tilted in opposite directions- your lips met. You sighed, looping both arms around his neck and pressing your body closer to his. His hands moved to your neck, slowly travelling down your back to rest on your hips, holding you to him. His tongue teased your lips open, the kiss was passionate, deep, slow. He caught your lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently as he pulled away. Your cheeks were flushed more than ever, as were his. He pressed another, more chaste kiss to your lips, and you pressed your thumb to his lips, wiping away the stains of red lipstick you'd transferred during your kiss.
He smiled, squeezing your hand. 'Goodnight, draga mea. Sweet dreams.' Oh, you thought to yourself as you watched him retreating, waving as the elevator doors slid shut, don't worry.
I think my dreams will more than just sweet tonight..
You let yourself into the apartment, not bothering to put on pyjama's- it was summer, ridiculously warm, and you were far too tired – and slightly too tipsy, admittedly – to seek out a pair of light nightclothes. So, you stripped off, falling onto your soft mattress, eyes closing almost immediately.
And your dreams? Oh, they were never sweeter.