Avengers Imagines

Ch. 3~Tony Fluff/Fall Series

The smell of nutmeg, pumpkin spice, cinnamon, and cloves fills the kitchen as I finish latticing the top of the apple pie before tucking it into the oven and setting the timer. Patting some flour and dough off my hands and onto a dishrag, I survey the disaster zone I've made of the kitchen. I decide the pumpkin pie can wait and go to work cleaning up what can be cleaned. Pots, cutting boards, measuring cups, and mixing bowls are soon stacked beside the sink as I get to work. My hands are wrinkled and covered in soap when I suddenly feel strong arms wrapping around my waist.

Laughter spills from my throat immediately when I feel scruff tickle my ear and a little kiss being pressed to the shell. "It smells fantastic in here. This is the olfactory personification of Fall." Another laugh tumbles off my lips only to be absorbed by Tony's as I turn to face his head on my shoulder.

"Thank you. Not quite done yet, but you're smelling the apple pie. Still have the pumpkin to go." I tell him and continue scrubbing the last mixing bowl despite Tony distracting me.

"Mm. That explains why you taste like apples." He whispers and lets his teeth trace the shell of my ear, sending shivers up and down my back. My head unconsciously leans opposite his to give his lips more access and the bowl drops into the suds when he nips at my neck.

"Tony." I warn and bite my lip while my eyes flutter closed. He hums against my skin and leans his body against mine so I'm trapped between him and the sink. Soap and water drips onto Tony's hand and the floor as I grab onto him while he continues his cruel teasing. "Tony, I can't...I've got...I've..." My thoughts are hard to corral since the mere presence of him sends them spiraling like dandelion seeds, but I finally manage to get out a sentence. "Got to make pumpkin pie." I force out, swallowing under Tony's mouth. He pauses and reluctantly takes a step back. Sighing to release some tension, I rinse the bowl and put it on the drying rack before turning to a smiling Tony.

"Teach me?" He asks cutely, amber eyes reflecting the Fall feel in the kitchen.

My eyebrows pop up as I walk back to the counter that has the recipes lain over its surface. "You want me to teach you how to make pumpkin pie?" I repeat, surprised.

Tony shrugs while I grab a bowl and whisk. "Sure. I don't know how. Cooking doesn't really matter when you have a black card in your pocket." He jokes and leans against the counter, tugging playfully on the drawstrings of my sweatpants. I pass him a pie plate, spray, and the premade crust.

"Okay. Spray the pan really well, then fit the crust to it." I figure we'll start with an easy job. As smart as Tony is, I don't think I've seen him make more than coffee and toast in all the time we've been together. My attention turns back to the recipe as I start adding ingredients to mix together. While I'm adding a little extra cinnamon, I glance over at Tony and press my lips together to keep in my laugh. "What're you doin, hon?" I ask and set down the bowl to look closer at what he's doing.

"The edges are usually fancy, right? I just can't figure out how to get the little peaks." He huffs in frustration. I look down at the smashed edges and swallow my laughter.

"Here, I'll show you." My fingers gently pry up the crust and start just pinching the edges. "You've got to pinch, not smash. Alright?" My eyes find his and see he's watching my hands with rapt attention.

"Right, right." He nods and takes the place of my hands on the dough. While he does his best, he's just moving too fast and not making the peaks the same size.

This time I let myself giggle before waving his hands away. "Honey, no. Give me your hands." I duck under his arm so I'm once again between him and the counter. My hands lay over his and I feel his scruff brush against my cheek as he watches my every move. "You've got to be tender because the more you work the dough, the more fragile it gets." I tell him and fold all but two of his fingers into his palm. Carefully, I guide his fingers over the dough until each and every peak is the same size. "There." We finish and I peck his cheek happily.

His hands flip and fold my arms to my chest as our fingers intertwine. "I like it when you show me what to do, sweetheart." He whispers and a smile tugs at my lips at the comment.

"Pie. Finish. Come on." I slip out of his embrace and step back to my bowl. "Here. You stir while I add ingredients." Happy he knows how to do this, Tony steps to the bowl and happily stirs the pumpkin filling until everything is mixed together.

"Into the crust?" He asks and I nod, taking the whisk and putting a spatula in his hand instead. I lick it clean as Tony turns the whole of his focus to pouring every bit of filling into the crust and making it even. Once he's finished he looks at me with a raised eyebrow and hopeful eyes.

"Perfect. Into the oven with the apple. It doesn't take as long to bake, so this is perfect." I put the whisk in the sink and open the oven for him. Carefully, he slides it in and I shut the oven quickly. Tony turns on the oven light to bend down and look at it as I giggle. "Needs time to cook, Tony." I tell him and wash my hands before tossing the towel at his head. Bullseye. It waves from its place on his head before he snags it off and looks up at me with mischief glinting in those gold pools.

"How much time, would you say?" He asks and stands up, walking over to me and wrapping the strings of my sweatpants around his flour dusted fingers. An easy smile makes its way onto my lips as I back into the counter and inch my hands up his chest.

"Thirty. Now what trouble could we possibly cause in just thirty minutes?" I ask teasingly as Tony's fingers dip under the waistband of my pants to let his knuckles skim the edge of my underwear. He plants a kiss on the corner of my mouth and smiles.

"I can think of a couple things." He murmurs and slips his fingers under my underwear. Smiling against his lips, we descend to the floor.

Suffice it to say the pies had a captive audience for a little over their proper cooking time. God, I love Fall.