Chapter 1: Darcy/Bucky - Deep-throat & Face-sitting
Darcy heard the keys in the door around 11PM and she jumped up from the couch, nearly toppling the bottle of merlot she had open on the coffee table. She grabbed it just in time, setting it further away from the edge so it wouldn’t happen again.
She’d been waiting for hours. She was always waiting for Bucky, even during weeks like this one, after their stupid fight over dinner the night before he left for a mission.
It was so dumb. Darcy knew that the fight was dumb when it was occurring, and it didn’t stop her from acting like a child. Bucky gave her some vague, non-committal sound when she asked him what he wanted for dinner. She decided to crack open her Pinterest recipes and make some kind of vegan medley and when she sat Bucky’s serving in front of him at the table he leaned forward and sniffed it, before picking up the salt and pepper and dousing his food with it.
“Is it… bland?” Darcy snapped, and Bucky met her gaze, eyebrows raised.
“You didn’t even taste it,” Darcy went on, and Bucky gave a little sigh.
“I didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to try something new,” she said, picking up her spoon to start to eat, but then she put it down after another thought struck her. “Why didn’t you just tell me what you wanted, then? Because now I know that I can get it wrong from time to time.”
“I’m not used to this… vegetarian stuff,” Bucky muttered.
“It’s vegan,” Darcy corrected, and he frowned.
“What’s the difference?”
“Jesus, you’re not even trying –”
Darcy got up from her seat, detaching her phone from the charger cord on top of the microwave. She unlocked it, swiped to the app on her phone for food delivery.
“You know, we could just get pizza, or hotdogs, or… liver? Didn’t you use to eat liver as a kid?”
She was joking. It wasn’t a funny joke, she knew that at the time. She was making a point, but Bucky didn’t seem to appreciate it, or go along with it. He only stared back at her when she glanced up from her phone.
“Okay,” he said, and Darcy lifted her brow.
“Okay to what?”
He drew back his chair, the legs scraping against the floor as Darcy held her phone, watching him. His spoon clattered to the table and he stood up.
He didn’t answer her, only walked out of the kitchen. Darcy put down her phone, feeling the annoyance rise in her.
“Bucky, you can’t just leave when I’m trying to talk to you –”
“Is that what that was?” he muttered.
Darcy followed him out to the living room. She watched him fish out his phone in his jacket that had started to buzz. He glanced at it, his mouth setting into a thin line.
“Shit. Gotta go.”
“Already?” Darcy said, and he looked at her.
“Yeah, doll,” he said, and Darcy could detect his irritation in his tone. He wasn’t bothering to hide it. “I come home and then I go back out again.”
“But I thought at least tonight –”
“Yeah, well I thought I’d be eating –” Bucky began, but then he cut himself off, shaking his head.
She knew she should let it go. She wasn’t the type to do that. It’s why she got into so many arguments with her professors in college. It’s why she always got under Jane’s skin, and also why the two women got on so well. Neither of them were polite for politeness’s sake.
“Finish that sentence,” she said, her hands on her hips.
“You wanna do this now? When I’m leavin’ for fuck knows how long -?”
Darcy narrowed her eyes.
“Finish that sentence, Barnes.”
He mimicked her eyes. “Don’t call me that. Don’t try to goad me when I’m starvin’. ‘Cause I’m not gonna eat vegetables before I got jump outta an airplane…”
They glared at one another and Darcy waited for him to dial it back, to relent, to apologize. He didn’t. He only picked up his bag at the door, wrenching the door open.
Darcy folded her arms, and the reality of it all had sunk in – he was going to leave her like this, angry over this stupid thing.
“Bye, then,” she murmured.
His eyes swung to hers and she saw him deflate instantly. He closed his eyes for a second and sighed. He moved toward her and kissed her forehead.
So five days later, she was darting toward the door. She thought maybe he’d go back to his place, give her space. She wasn’t going to let him do that tonight. She was sorry – she knew at dinner the other night he was probably stressed about the mission, and he probably wanted some kind of comfort food. Darcy knew she needed to anticipate his needs a little better. She was usually good at it. She knew she’d been a little off, too, with his mission looming over them. Sometimes Darcy overcompensated by doing something she felt was more adult, like trying new recipes, pretending everything was fine.
Bucky stood in her doorway, his jaw tense. Darcy could see he’d showered, his hair was damp, his collar blotched with water droplets. She felt her heart sink. Maybe while he was away he’d decided they were through.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft. “I… I’m so sorry.”
“What?” Darcy said, and she pulled him inside, shutting the door. “What are you talking about?”
She cupped his face, shaking her head at him.
“I was picking fights. I should have known –”
“You can’t read my mind, doll,” he murmured. “I shoulda said hotdogs. Then you’d’ve told me about how they’re made of entrails and snouts like you always do but you’d’ve made them for me, anyway.”
Darcy felt her chest loosen, leaning toward him to kiss him, closing her eyes as he breathed her in. He cradled her face, sighing against her.
When they broke apart, Darcy shook her head again.
“I hated it,” Bucky murmured.
“Me, too,” Darcy said, and they began to laugh. “How’d you go? Everyone okay?”
Bucky nodded, pulling her closer, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead.
“Dumb fight… won’t do it again…”
He kept murmuring and Darcy clung to him, feeling her eyes mist.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
After several minutes of cuddling on the couch, Bucky got up, out of habit going to the kitchen to boil the kettle on the stove. Darcy followed him, and he went to the cupboard, getting out her tea.
She watched him, her eyes moving to his rear end. Darcy bit her lip, appreciating the view. His sweatpants were like a secret weapon only she knew about. When he turned around with her tea, reading the look on her face, he blinked.
“Nothing,” Darcy replied, but she came toward him, blocking his path.
She got close enough for their hips to meet and she leaned in, wrapping her arms around his middle, kissing his neck. He chuckled, and Darcy bumped his crotch.
“Put those cups down,” Darcy murmured, her hands going under his shirt, feeling his stomach. His muscles jumped under her touch. She nuzzled his skin, his hands moving to put the tea down, and Darcy grinned, moving back to look him in the eye.
The sweatpants were doing things to her. She caught him in a rough kiss, the heat of it catching him off-guard. She ended it with his lip between her teeth, tugging it.
His eyes were brighter, his hands coming up to clutch her waist, to kiss her back, to match her. As much as Darcy wanted that, to be held by him, she wanted to take control of his pleasure, to provide for him in another way. She knew she didn’t have to do it this way, the sexual way, because there was nothing to forgive. The fight was long over, but she wanted to make up for it, to assure him.
She had a feeling that he had thought it was over between them, too, by how he deflated when he left her the other night. He had to know that he couldn’t screw this up, at least, not so easily as one dumb fight over dinner.
Darcy pulled away from him, Bucky’s eyes searching her face.
“What’re you -?”
She grinned, and the look on his face was priceless when she made her descent, her hands gliding up his thighs. The dreamy expression on his face vanished, his eyebrows lifting. His eyes widened.
Darcy began to giggle, her hands reaching for the drawstring on his sweatpants, her fingers undoing the little knot he’d made. She pulled his pants partway down, seeing he’d forgone underwear, as she’d hoped.
She pulled out Bucky’s cock, seeing it was already half-hard and fattening in her palm, and he sucked in a breath. Darcy felt his hand reach out to touch her hair and she met his gaze once more, her hand stroking him slow and steady.
Darcy loved giving Bucky blowjobs. Often enough, he’d pull her off of him to stop himself from finishing too soon. He’d get riled up and want to be inside her – but not her mouth – and Darcy would laugh and let him tug her up to kiss him, his hands all over her.
She opened her mouth, letting her tongue run up the underside of his shaft, watching him shiver with her eyes glued to his. He was fighting to keep his eyes open, the urge to shut them and relish in her touch almost too strong.
He moaned when she wrapped her lips around him, pulling him into her mouth, tasting the vaguely salty burst of precome on her tongue. She moved her mouth down until her nose was touching his stomach, and Bucky moaned louder, his breath hitching.
Darcy stayed there for a couple seconds, her eyes closed as she felt his cock bump the back of her throat. She willed herself to relax, to let herself feel him brush her gag reflex. She wanted this, wanted to make him feel good, she wanted to unravel him.
When her throat constricted, Bucky let out a low hiss.
He gulped, Darcy could hear it from her place on the floor. She pulled back, his cock bobbing as she let out a happy sigh, her eyes watering. She smiled up at Bucky, pumping his cock with the slick of her spit, rocking on her knees a little before diving back in.
Her head bobbed, her tongue swirling. It didn’t take long for her to become greedy, as each time he moaned Darcy’s stomach heated, the sounds she was pulling from him spurring her on.
She pulled back eventually, gasping, spitting more on him, her fist tight around him as she stroked him. Bucky was gnawing his lower lip, metal hand gripping the bench as his flesh hand stayed in her hair, stroking her face when she came up for air.
“I want to make you come,” she murmured, and he nodded, his eyes fluttering shut.
Darcy sank back down, with her hollowed cheeks and determination, feeling tears begin to leak from the corners of her eyes. It was hard to breathe, but she considered it worth it. Bucky looked helpless, and at one point he whimpered, because Darcy pressed down behind his balls to trigger his prostate from the outside.
“Jesus,” he hissed. “What the fuck?”
“Too much?” Darcy managed to ask, and he gasped again.
He didn’t seem to be able to make up his mind.
“What the hell are you doin’ down there, doll?”
“Secret things,” she replied, licking his underside again, grinning. “Fun things.”
“God, you got that – right,” he gasped, and she pressed down again, taking him to the back of her throat and then some. Bucky cleared his throat. “Gettin’… close.”
Good, Darcy thought, and she went for it. Tongue, lips and spit, her hand jerking him, her other hand pressing down on his prostate.
When she could hear him huffing, she pushed him down her throat and held him there, her eyes streaming. Bucky’s hand in her hair tugged and he tensed up. With Darcy still pressing on his prostate, he began to whimper again as he came, sounding completely overcome by the sensation. Darcy could feel his come at the back of her throat and tongue, and she sighed, before bobbing her head again, easing off on him.
He kept babbling something incoherent that had Darcy chuckle to herself when her mouth left him, wiping her face with the back of her hand as she swallowed, settling on her knees. Bucky’s face was covered in a sheen of sweat and he panted, tucking himself back in his pants, his hands shaking.
“Good?” Darcy asked, and Bucky shot her a look, closing his eyes while he still panted.
He leaned back, a weak chuckle falling out of him and Darcy wanted to treasure it forever. All they did was look at one another for a whole minute, until Bucky knelt down beside her, kissing her.
“C’mere,” he murmured, and Darcy broke the kiss.
He lay down, one of his hands on her leggings and tugging them down. Darcy pulled them partway down, glancing at his crotch.
“Were you not here just a second ago, coming in my mouth?” she murmured, and he smiled, cheeky.
“Yeah, but I can use my mouth,” he said, and Darcy felt his fingers brush the lips of her cunt and she hissed, suddenly needy.
She tugged her leggings and underwear off, Bucky watching her. She was surprised, in a pleasant kind of way, that he was willing to do this on the kitchen floor, on the linoleum and everything.
Bucky beckoned her with his hands, his eyes twinkling up at her as she moved toward him. She shifted awkwardly, mindful of her knee close to his face. She managed to crouch over him, her crotch beneath his chin and he shuffled down, wrapping his arms around her thighs.
It was a little confronting, seeing his bright blue eyes down there, his head lifting to give her a lick along her slit. Darcy tried to not think of the angle too much, how her thighs looked beside his head, big and textured with stretch marks and cellulite.
Bucky kept his mouth open, his tongue flat as he rocked against her, not quite reaching her clit. Darcy shifted, pushing his head back down to the floor and he grinned.
“Mouth open,” she whispered, and he nodded, obeying.
Darcy closed her eyes for a second, experimenting as she rocked her hips. She needed to ease into it, using his mouth like one of her toys. She could feel his hot breath on her and she shivered, resting her cunt against his mouth.
“Fuck,” she hissed. “Suck. Suck me there. Fuck –”
He was a quick learner, his cheeks hollowing as the slurping sound filled Darcy’s ears, making her giggle at the obscenity of it – how messy and primal it sounded. Bucky chuckled along with her, one of his hands moving to squeeze her ass cheek, patting it as Darcy rocked her hips.
The glide was heavenly. She could feel he was going to give her beard burn down there, but like her lack of air before, it felt worth it. She wondered if Bucky could breathe down there and she stopped moving, meeting his gaze.
“You okay? You’re not suffocating?”
“Worse ways to go,” Bucky replied, making her smile, before going back to sucking at her, his grip tightening around her. “Come on, baby doll…”
Darcy let her eyes drift closed as she began to rock again, Bucky’s words of encouragement filling her ears in between the sounds of his mouth working against her.
“Come on, that’s it… Let go, baby doll… Wanna feel you…”
Darcy moaned, feeling a rush of warm arousal from her core, sure she was coating Bucky’s face in it, and he groaned appreciatively, giving her a little smack.
“Jesus,” she hissed, and he sucked at her clit, making her whimper.
She rocked, grabbing the back of his head to press up against him, rubbing herself on him. She felt herself tense up, shuddering as she came, riding the wave of it. She pulled back enough to sit on Bucky’s chest, panting as she recovered, feeling herself twitch in earnest as Bucky panted with her, his face soaked.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw the tent in his sweatpants, and she began to giggle. She moved a hand down to squeeze him through the material and he chuckled, licking his lips.
Chapter 2: Bruce/Darcy - Medical play
I wish I could say this wrote itself but the prompt had the idea jump out of me and smack me across the face. At this point I know that Bruce Banner and Darcy together is kinda a rare pair, but I'm sure some of you will appreciate it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Darcy’s nipples were hard.
She swung her legs with her hands in her lap, wearing the hospital gown Bruce gave her, the A/C cranked up because the fall weather hadn’t reached New York yet – thank you, global warming, you absolute asshole…
She felt the butterflies in her stomach while her nipples rubbed against the thin gown. She heard Bruce clear his throat and she sat up straight, beaming at him when he slipped inside the little office.
“Hello, Doctor Banner,” Darcy replied, cheerful.
Bruce gave her a little smile, moving toward her with a clipboard in his hand, his stethoscope on, his reading glasses on the edge of his nose that he pushed back up again.
“Oh, yeah,” she replied, rolling her shoulders. She looked up at him through her lashes and saw him blush under the fluorescent light.
“Maybe a few tests I can do?”
“Okay,” Darcy said with a nod, grinning again.
She appreciated this. She’d joked about it for weeks, even back when she wasn’t allowed to touch him. She’d managed to get under his skin enough to have that permission granted to her, and since then she hoped he took her up on her request.
She kind of had a thing for medical sex games, but she’d never managed to get someone she was sleeping with to actually commit to a role play scenario. She wondered how long Bruce would keep this up, but so far he’d been a good sport.
He started to move about, taking out a pen from his pocket, leaning toward Darcy and holding it up.
“There’s a little light.”
He showed her how the pen’s light on the end of it activated when he pressed down on a little button.
“I’m going to test your pupil dilation.”
Darcy nodded, pressing her lips together. She could smell his skin but he didn’t touch her just yet, only began shining the light, asking her to follow it.
He got out an otoscope and looked in her ears. He moved toward a little box near the sink and pulled on some gloves. He never touched her with his skin throughout the process. He stuck a little wooden applicator on her tongue to inspect her mouth and throat. It made Darcy think of the first time she blew him. It was on the lab floor, his hands in her hair. He only lasted a couple minutes and Darcy felt high as a kite when it was over.
“Hmm?” she said, snapping out of her reverie. “Yes, Doctor?”
“Do you mind if I lower your gown at the back to listen to your breathing and heart?”
She smiled, shaking her head. “Go ahead.”
He moved beside her and Darcy felt the latex of his gloves brush her skin, her eyes closing as she felt her back be exposed to the cool air. She shivered when he pressed the stethoscope to her upper back. He pulled it back, rubbing it against his white coat.
“Sorry, it’s cold.”
“It’s fine,” Darcy murmured. She felt her skin break out in goose bumps.
She was enjoying this immensely. She wondered when he’d turn it sexual. She told him to do whatever he wanted, and his eyes had lit up at the implication of her words not thirty minutes ago. She could imagine him drawing this out longer than she wanted, just to make her needy.
She breathed normally, but when he listened to her heart he drew back, tutting.
“Oh,” Darcy said. “I didn’t realize…”
“How are you feeling in general?”
Darcy watched him move back to stand in front of her, putting his stethoscope back on his neck, peering at her intently.
“Good,” Darcy supplied, starting to swing her legs again. Bruce’s eyes dipped to her bare feet for a second, watching her bright red toenails, and her high arch. Darcy suspected he had a foot fetish, perhaps a mild one, enough to make him stare when she was barefoot around him.
She bit her lip.
“Maybe some tension,” she added, stopping her feet.
He glanced up, the façade gone, only to appear a second later. Darcy wondered how often on the run he’d had to pretend to be someone else.
She began kicking her feet again, leaning back on the gurney, teasing him a little. Sometimes she’d do this in the labs, the fidgeting little motions that made Bruce lose his train of thought. She remembered the first time she caught him staring, his eyes on her mouth as she bit the end of her pen.
Bruce decided to bite.
Darcy rolled her shoulders. “My back. Shoulder blades. I’m always –”
“How’s your posture?” Bruce cut in, and Darcy rose her eyebrows.
“You’re hunching now,” he said, and Darcy frowned
“Oh, yeah, I guess –”
He moved toward her, and Darcy felt his hands on her lower back, and her stomach. He manoeuvred her, a thrill running through Darcy. He touched her shoulders, causing her chest to push out and Darcy pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing.
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured vaguely, and she met his gaze, holding her breath.
“A couple things, but we don’t have to do them –”
“What?” Darcy blurted, hoping this was going exactly she wanted it. “Is it… a breast exam?”
She felt her cheeks heat, so she must have really committed to this thing – she’d otherwise not give a shit about saying such a phrase in front of Bruce. He wore the Hot Doctor look well.
“Sure,” he replied, his voice low. “If that’s alright?”
Darcy nodded, her hands moving to the ties of her gown on the back of her neck, but Bruce was quicker.
Oh. That made Darcy’s stomach flip, which she didn’t expect. He was careful with her, untying the knot, his hands moving her gown down to expose her upper half.
She tried to not outright gulp at the sight of her own nakedness. She could see her nipples were hard, her areolas pebbled. Bruce lifted one of her arms, her hand going behind her head.
He felt around, and Darcy had to stop herself from arching into his touch, feeling a warmth flush between her legs, her cheeks hotter. Her nipple between his middle and fore fingers made her bite back a moan, her eyes shutting.
“All good so far. Now the other one…”
God. He was too good at this, playing along like all these touches were incidental. She felt his breath on her neck and shivered, his hands moving to her other breast.
“Nothing unusual –”
He cupped them both at the same time and Darcy’s breath hitched, and she broke, turning her head toward Bruce’s.
“Fuck, please don’t stop –”
He caught her in a kiss and Darcy moaned, his hands cupping her tits as she rocked her hips. The angle was a little awkward, but she still felt the heat of it. He pressed into her back and she could feel he was hard, and she tried to reach around to touch him, his tongue slipping into her mouth.
She managed to squeeze the length of him through his slacks, his grip tightening on her tits as he kissed her down her jaw to her neck. Darcy watched one of his hands trail down her front, under the bottom of her gown.
“You didn’t wear anything, did you?” he murmured, and Darcy chuckled, a little dazed.
She let out a gasp when he pushed two fingers inside her, answering his own question. His thumb pressed down on her clit and Darcy whimpered.
“No… I… hoped you’d look….”
“I want to make you come first, Darcy, right here. With your cute little dress on –”
Jesus, he must have been thinking about this too. For how long? No wonder he practically jumped at the opportunity to play this out.
“Fuck, please. Please, I want it,” Darcy gasped, when he began to fuck her with his fingers in precise strokes, rubbing her clit.
He held her in place, playing her like a fucking symphony, Darcy’s hips rocking in time to Bruce’s fingers, his mouth at her ear.
“Let me feel it, come for me, honey. Come on, come for me. Come for me.”
Darcy whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut as she stilled, tensing all over.
“Fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck!”
She came with a grunt, her teeth grit. She panted, turning in Bruce’s arms to kiss him on the mouth, to tug him toward her. His sticky fingers grabbed her waist as they spun together, Bruce landing on his back on the gurney.
Darcy helped him get his slacks undone, pushing them down with his boxer briefs. She sank onto his cock, both of them gasping at the feel of each other joining.
As Darcy began to bounce, she leaned forward, kissing him. His arms wrapped around her, and when they began to rock together, Darcy giggled, feeling inspired.
She reached for his stethoscope, picking it up and putting it on, sticking it in her ears. Bruce bucked into her, as Darcy listened to his beating heart.
Chapter 3: Steve/Bucky/Darcy - Sensory Deprivation
This one kind of got away from me. I honestly didn't mean for this to be 4k words, but here we are. I used Day Three for a dialogue prompt I was given by everythinghappens-love on Tumblr. Thank you, bb! ❤
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Whoever started that rumor about Steve being a virgin was probably some asshole who tried to make a pass at him when he first woke up from the ice in 2012. Darcy was sure of it – because her perception of Steve before she even met him was way off. “Boy scout” also came to mind, but that wasn’t totally wrong. He was a fast learner and meticulous when he needed to be. There was a level of dedication to him when she first managed to get his attention.
They met on the compound in passing, her head in the refrigerator while he was getting coffee. He kept touching the machine and Darcy turned around to find the source of the noise, expecting Jane, and saw a six-foot tall blond guy with his back to her, mashing the key pad.
“You… need some help?” she asked, closing the fridge door and moving toward him.
He gave her a quick glance and then looked down for a second, reading her shirt that had The Addams Family across the front, Morticia Addams’ head a little warped across her tits. His brows lifted.
“Don’t tell anyone I messed this up,” he replied, and Darcy smiled.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
They kept meeting each other in the kitchens, and Darcy never took it further than their flirty little interactions. She was basically harmless. She thought it would be like her and Thor. Then she made some joke about him never wearing clothes that fit him.
“Neither do you,” he retorted, and Darcy’s eyes widened slightly when he nodded at her general person, indicating her t-shirt that was stretched across her ample chest.
“Shut up,” she said, shoving his arm. She didn’t know what else to say. As far as she knew, he was with Bucky Barnes. She didn’t think he was interested in women at all. Not that she was bitter. He was a great guy, really sweet to her actually. He asked her questions about the things from the 21st century that confused him.
His eyes had a different shine to them, a mischievousness.
“I’m not… readin’ this wrong, am I?” he murmured, and Darcy felt her cheeks flush.
She drew in a breath, unsure of what to say.
He blinked, and then burst out laughing, ducking his head. He kept laughing, and Darcy tried to not stamp her foot in indignation.
“Don’t laugh at me!”
“I’m not!” he retorted, but he kept smiling at her, infectious. “I just – it’s the situation, and your… conviction…”
“I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole,” Darcy whined, and he laughed harder. “Stop laughing at me!”
She broke down into giggles and Steve pulled her by the waist toward him, their noses brushing.
“I thought you were… y’know, with Bucky.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, kissing her face, his hands on her arm and waist, making her break out in goose bumps. “Is that a problem?”
“I don’t –”
He kissed her neck and she shivered.
“God. I can’t think right now. Fuck.”
They then proceeded to dash off to the nearest bed – hers – and tumbled onto it together, mouths and hands everywhere. Darcy felt like she was going to jump out of her own skin, her body was not moving fast enough for her liking. She managed to pull down her pants and tug down Steve’s as well, their legs tangling together as Steve rolled her onto her back.
“Bucky’s not… the jealous type, right?” she whispered, his cock bumping her stomach.
Darcy was a lot of things, but she was not a homewrecker.
“I wouldn’t do this if he was,” Steve murmured, pulling back to look her in the eye. “Could you… stop thinkin’ about him right now? You tellin’ me I definitely read this wrong?”
His accent came through more when he was jokey with her, and they began to giggle together. Yeah, Darcy kind of had a thing for Bucky Barnes. She flushed, biting her lip.
Steve only laughed, kissing her face.
“Could we… please get back to this?” he whispered, and she nodded, tilting her head for another kiss.
When he was inside her, Darcy couldn’t stop moaning. The stretch felt fucking perfect, each drag making her grip him tighter. Her ankles were resting on his shoulders, her fingers deep in his hair.
After, he felt asleep with his head on her bare chest, his mouth slightly open. She wondered if this was a one-time thing.
She was glad it didn’t turn out to be.
She began to hang out at Steve’s place every so often. She was afraid of pissing off Bucky, so she overcompensated a little, making sure she stayed out of his way, didn’t try to make him interact with her too much. He was quiet around her – he was that way with everyone – so she didn’t try to take it too personally.
She didn’t think anything would start up with Bucky. She never made that assumption. She accidentally walked in on them one afternoon and left feeling like her face was on fire – she only saw their bare chests pressed together on the couch, wrapped up in each other, but they were clearly naked. To put it simply, she was mortified. She didn’t reply to Steve’s texts for a few hours, sure that she’d never be welcomed back into the fold.
She was wrong about that, too.
One afternoon when she stopped by, using her key to open the door, she saw Bucky sitting on the couch alone. She didn’t expect him there, she thought she’d be waiting for Steve alone while he was out, so seeing her fuck buddy’s boyfriend sitting there with his big blue eyes and parted lips made her blush instantly. She ducked her gaze to her feet.
“Hey, Bucky,” she murmured.
She was talking to the floor, like she was an awkward teenager. It was so like middle school she could have screamed from how cringey it was, but she let herself in, shutting the door and walking down the hallway to drop her bag next to the couch instead of running the other way.
“Hey,” he replied. “You… visitin’?”
Darcy swallowed. “Uh, yeah.”
She sat beside him for an hour, watching reruns of My Cat from Hell, until they heard Steve come in. Darcy prolonged going to bed with Steve, instead commandeering the kitchen and made them dinner. She opened a bottle of wine and they shared it, Darcy squeezed between them on the couch.
“You need a bigger lounge set,” Darcy muttered, shifting in her seat.
“No, it’s perfect,” Steve said, nudging her into Bucky, and Darcy felt her blush deepen.
She was sure she’d been bright red for hours. She couldn’t stop feeling hyper aware of her proximity to Bucky.
“We fit perfectly,” Steve added, making Darcy want to pinch his thigh.
Whatever people said about Steve, Darcy wished they would talk more about how much of a shit-stirrer he naturally was. That night she didn’t even end up under Steve. She went home knowing they were probably fucking the second she shut the door behind her.
She wasn’t exactly jealous. She just wished her crush on Bucky would take a backseat already, because it was going nowhere.
Bucky hugged her for the first time and Darcy froze up. It was in her kitchen, when he came by with one of Steve’s shirts. She’d texted him, feeling miserable, because Steve was on a mission in North Africa and she missed him like crazy.
Bucky’s hug was so precious that they made Darcy’s chest ache. He bent to wrap one arm around her, his flesh arm, and she stopped herself from clinging to hard in return.
“You’ll be okay, Darce,” he murmured. It made Darcy want to cry. Hearing her name on his lips made her want to curl herself around him and squeeze him.
So no, her crush was not calming down the longer she was around him.
Several weeks later, Steve and Bucky were back from a mission in Canada, both of them a little torn up from it. Steve cracked some ribs and was sleeping in his room while Darcy took the situation in her stride and very bossily told Bucky to park it on the couch while she grabbed the First Aid kit.
Bucky was bad at protocol, which meant he did not seek medical attention at the best of times. He had several cuts on his face and flesh hand, so Darcy began to clean them with a swab.
He sucked in a breath when she first dabbed at his forehead, his eyes widening a fraction.
“It stings, huh? I’m sorry,” Darcy murmured. Bucky was staring into space as she kept going, wincing along with him.
She was well aware of him not looking after himself because he didn’t gravitate toward self-care. When left alone, he regressed to survival mode. More than once she’d ask him when he last ate and he wouldn’t be able to remember. He was working on it, but his recovery was non-linear. A bad day could mean him not feeling brave enough to stand under a showerhead. A good day could mean he smiled at her and Darcy would feel like her chest was about to burst open from her heart being so full.
She was very, very messed up over him and she wished she wasn’t. He did not see her that way.
She finished his face and took his hand in hers, resting it on her lap as she got more rubbing alcohol.
“This is gonna hurt,” she warned, and he nodded.
“Yeah, that’s – fuck,” he hissed, and Darcy tensed, watching him squeeze his eyes shut as she began.
She half expected him to rip his hand away from her but he kept still, his cybernetic hand balling into a fist, the plates whirring.
“I can stop,” Darcy said, and he shook his head.
“I’m not… gettin’ an infection, I will not live that down,” Bucky whispered, shaking his head. He gave her a little pained smile, opening his eyes to watch her continue her assault.
When she was finally done, Bucky let out a low whistle. He turned his hand over, resting it on her thigh.
“You’re a champ,” she murmured, and he chuckled.
Fuck, she had it bad. She met his gaze, and she saw Bucky’s throat bob. She froze, sure he was moving toward her. He closed the gap, his hand squeezing her thigh as he pressed his lips to hers in a slow kiss.
Darcy’s eyes shut and she sighed, her heart racing. She wasn’t sure if he was about to break away from her, regretting his outburst, if that’s what the kiss turned out to be. She didn’t want it to be a mistake. She tried not to feel much hope and failed completely, returning the kiss, her hand going to touch the side of his face.
She tucked some of his hair behind his ear when they drew back. He kept looking at her mouth, not her eyes. It was a habit of his, to not maintain eye contact.
The words were out of Darcy’s mouth before she could stop them, and Bucky’s eyebrows lifted a fraction to indicate surprise. It was significant that he was showing this much at all.
“What?” he murmured, his voice soft. It made her want to climb on top of him.
“Do you want a blow job?” she whispered.
He blinked. Once, twice. Oh, God. She wanted to die –
“No… no, thank you,” he said, and Darcy knew he was being polite. He probably was hurt by her, because she was coming on so strong.
She couldn’t believe she said that. She backtracked, moving away from him.
“F-forget it,” she babbled, and she left him on the couch, going into Steve’s room to hide for a couple hours.
She came back a couple days later, deciding to make dinner for them to make up for the blunder. She stood in the kitchen, scrolling through her phone for ideas. She heard Bucky come home and get in the shower while Steve was napping in his room.
Darcy felt her stomach twist, thinking of being in the same room as Bucky for an extended amount of time. She was trying to convince herself to not be a coward, so she did her best to ignore him when he came back out to sit on the couch.
Darcy decided to kill time by unloading the dishwasher, and by the time she was done, she was certain Bucky had settled in for the night. Most likely he was not going to make conversation with her. She’d get past this. She had to. She’d been in embarrassing situations before. They were all adults, and she’d made a mistake. She glanced over at the couch once, seeing Bucky still there, staring straight ahead at the TV.
She’d fucked this up so badly. Why, why, why did she have to make it so dirty so quickly? Why couldn’t she act like a decent friend and respect boundaries?
She turned away, looking down at her phone again, biting her lip. She opened Pinterest to find some inspiration, her stomach churning. She reached to grab the charger cord, putting her phone down.
A second later, she felt someone behind her, and she sucked in a breath, and she was crowded into the kitchen bench. Hips pressed against her ass and she felt hands on her waist, one of them distinctly cooler than the other over the material of her t-shirt.
“Okay?” Bucky whispered, and Darcy nodded.
He moved her hair to the side, his lips brushing the back of her neck. She felt his cybernetic hand move to glide up her side, coming to rest under her left breast as he kissed her neck, his lips feeling so soft.
She sighed, closing her eyes to focus on the sensation. She waited for him to pull back, to run away. He didn’t, instead she heard the sound of his belt unbuckling and she flushed, opening her eyes in surprise. Bucky tugged down her leggings and Darcy gasped, feeling the head of his cock rub her.
The sound he made when he pushed inside her was almost unbearable in its vulnerability. Darcy whimpered, both of them going still for a few second. He felt thick, but she didn’t know if trying to look behind her was a good idea, to gauge his size.
He began to move and gasped again, her hand reaching for him. She could feel his lips on her neck, and she managed to touch his bare hip, feeling the sharp line of his Adonis belt.
She felt so full, her whole body tight as a bow string. She was afraid any sudden movements would scare him off, but she managed to convince herself that he wasn’t about to leave her high and dry.
With each rock of his body, he was pressing her hips into the bench, and Darcy moaned in time to the movement, until Bucky’s flesh hand snaked down the front of her to dip between her legs.
Darcy’s breath hitched and she began to tremble, his thick fingers working her clit, his thrusts speeding up. She could hear his breath becoming labored, his teeth grazing her skin.
Darcy couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come…”
Her eyes flew shut and she came hard and slow, her cunt gripping him tighter, a moan escaping his lips as she crashed back down.
He didn’t last much longer, speeding up his thrusts, knocking into her ass and making Darcy whimper, and she didn’t care anymore, he felt so good buried deep inside her.
He pressed his forehead into the back of her head, their panting and his body rutting into hers the only sounds. He gripped her hip and stilled, his cock twitching inside her as he came.
It was over so fast, Darcy’s mind and body felt out of sync as they separated, and she finally turned around to look at him.
“Is that… okay?” she murmured, and he met her gaze, swallowing. “What just happened, is that okay?”
She made it sound like it was all her idea, her seducing him or something. Bucky glanced down, tucking himself back into his pants and doing up his fly.
“Bucky, look at me.”
He blinked at her, his cheeks pinker, sweat on his face.
“Are you okay?” she whispered, and he nodded, looking away.
He was back to shy, but he pulled her into a hug, and Darcy could feel the mess seeping down her thigh as he held her for several seconds, the air smelling of sex.
She loved them both so much. She hoped they noticed that, not just with her words, but in her actions, too. She liked looking after them, helping them, being with them. It took a while for her to be ready to be in bed with both of them at the same time.
It was intimidating, coming into a relationship that spanned more than half a century, give or take. She felt like an intruder, and more than once she chickened out, feeling overwhelmed. They never lost patience with her.
Steve cornered her in the labs one afternoon, asking her to sleep over. It was still early into their three-way games, but Darcy felt like she’d finally hit her stride. When Steve asked her what she wanted, she gave him a pretty clear answer.
“Tie me up and tease me tonight.”
She liked the alliteration, and she could see Steve did as well. When she got off work, she walked into Steve’s place, seeing he was on the couch. He immediately turned off the TV and scooped her up, carrying her into the bedroom while she giggled, kissing his face.
He tied her hands behind her back as she was propped up by the pillows, before placing a mask over her eyes. She couldn’t blink properly with them on.
“Can you see me?” she heard Steve murmur, and she shook her head.
She tried to imagine where he was, and what he was doing. She thought about where Bucky might be – maybe at the gym with Sam or Nat – and she rolled her hips a little, feeling her body start to tingle with anticipation.
“You said tease, but –”
“My safeword is ‘red’,” Darcy cut in, and she heard Steve chuckle.
She was naked, and every so often she’d feel the urge to shiver, the air cool on her skin. She bit her lip, waiting as she heard Steve move around her, placing things on the floor and on the bedspread around her.
He gave her a kiss, a slow, tender one that made her sigh, before breaking it off. Darcy let out a low whine.
Then there was a buzz of a vibrator and a thrill ran through her. She felt the toy on her knee, then it glided up her spread thigh. She felt a pinch on her right nipple and she cried out, before a giggle escaped.
“You gonna laugh your way through this, sweetheart?”
Darcy kept giggling, pressing her lips together. She was trying to be serious, but she couldn’t help it. She could picture Steve’s face all lit up and pleased with her.
She felt the sudden assault of the vibrator between her legs for a less than a second and she gasped, before laughing again.
“You’re so pretty when you’ve got your mouth open like that, all shocked, Darcy,” she heard Steve whisper in her ear and she shivered, grinning.
He held the toy against her, not at the ideal angle, and he knew it, too. It made Darcy gasp, giggling as he pulled it away. Then back on her, then away.
Darcy heard the creak of the door opening and her stomach flipped.
“We should call you Giggles,” Steve whispered, kissing down her neck before latching onto one of her nipples, tugging it between his teeth.
She felt another mouth on her, going up her spread legs.
“Baby, when’d you get here?” she whispered, and she longed to touch Bucky back.
The bed shifted as both men were moving on her body, teasing her with strokes and kisses.
Darcy began to giggle again, because she could tell where Bucky was heading, his hands gliding up her legs. She felt the first swipe of his tongue along her slit and she canted her hips toward him, her thighs already beginning to shake.
“Darcy, that’s not fair. You said tease,” Steve reminded her, and she felt him cup her mound, blocking Bucky’s access.
She heard Bucky’s low chuckle and she bit her lip, the impatience coming back to her.
“You can say ‘red’. I bet you’ll look so pretty when you’re beggin’ for it,” Steve murmured, and Darcy let out a low whine.
“Darcy, are you sayin’ ‘red’?”
“No,” she whispered. “Just – I want to come.”
“We’ve barely started,” Steve retorted, and she heard the toy buzz again, this time against one of her hard, wet nipples.
She jolted at the sensation, and Steve’s hand left her cunt. She felt a swipe of Bucky’s tongue against her again and she dissolved into another giggle.
“You’re so fuckin’ cute,” Steve whispered, and she grinned.
Darcy was well aware of the fact that she was entirely in control of this. She liked that Steve never questioned what she wanted out of him or Bucky. She knew it meant they trusted one another.
She tried to focus on Bucky’s mouth on her, but Steve’s toy was distracting, which was kind of the point. It made her struggle a little, trying to shift her hips closer. She had no hands to direct Bucky like she usually would.
“What’s in it for me if I let you come?” Steve asked, and Darcy giggled.
“You can see how wide my mouth goes…”
Both men chuckled at that, and Steve pinched her nipple.
“Okay, Giggles. Since I know you do that so good, what about our Bucky?”
Darcy pretended to think, feeling Bucky swirl his tongue around her clit, making her whimper. Steve pinched her again.
“Darcy, what will you do for Bucky?”
Darcy smiled, biting her lip in the way she knew made Bucky’s eyes glaze over. He sucked her clit and she moaned, getting closer to the edge.
“Giggles,” Steve prompted.
“He can stick it anywhere he likes.”
Bucky sucked her harder for that, two of his fingers tucking inside her, and Darcy was so close, she tried to hold off, trying to angle herself away from his attentive mouth and hands.
“You look so pretty, tryin’ not to come, Giggles,” Steve murmured into her cheek, and she tried her best to writhe with little success. “Go ahead and come. Go on.”
Darcy gasped, almost sobbing as she felt the sweet release, Bucky’s tongue licking her through it. She felt like her whole body was throbbing, her muscles sore from tensing so hard.
“I’ve got somethin’ for you,” Steve said, and she felt him move away from her.
“For me?” she sing-songed, panting, which made him laugh.
“You’re sarcastic, but I like your enthusiasm –”
She felt something brush her foot and she squeaked. It felt soft and ticklish, like a feather. She realized what it was - her fucking fluffy pen that she got because it reminded her of Cher’s pen from Clueless, all pink and ridiculous. Steve must have swiped it from her desk earlier.
Darcy began to giggle uncontrollably, Bucky’s shoulders pushing her legs further apart when she began to kick her feet. He pinned her down while Steve tortured her.
“You can say ‘red’,” Steve murmured, and she shook her head, breathless.
She laughed so much she felt the tears spring in her eyes, and Steve pinched her nipple without warning, making her squeal. He stopped tickling her, pulling her face toward him to kiss her.
“God, I want you,” he whispered, and Darcy smiled, hearing the joy in his voice.
She felt Bucky’s fingers tuck inside her once more and she whimpered, Steve’s mouth covering hers again. She couldn’t focus on either of them properly, her toes curling as she tried in vain to move her arms.
Darcy shook all over, trying to dig her heels into the mattress, breaking the kiss with Steve.
“Red, red, red!”
They both stopped, the blindfold tugged away. Darcy squinted up at Steve, rolling onto her side awkwardly. He untied her wrists, throwing the silk scarf aside as Darcy sat up, seeing Bucky on his stomach watching her halfway down the bed.
“Bucky,” she murmured, beckoning him closer, and he was up, crawling toward her.
He climbed on top of her, and Steve followed, both men kissing her face.
“Stick it anywhere, huh?” Bucky murmured sometime after, his voice a low rumble.
He said it into her hair, and Darcy lifted herself up, narrowing her eyes.
"After all this time, you still can't look me in the eye?"
Bucky looked up at her, Steve on her other side and rubbing her arm, kissing her bare back. For a long moment, Bucky only looked at her, before reaching one hand up to stroke her cheek, his gaze warm.
"My eyes are open, Darce."
She smiled, then began to giggle when he tickled her ribs.
"Giggles," Bucky whispered, and Steve chuckled, pulling her back down between them for more.
I like to occasionally provide hurt/comfort with a side of smut. Wait, how many times have I written Darcy patching someone up...? Don't answer that. I'm sure it's a pretty high number.
Chapter 4: Darcy/Bucky - Mirror Sex
Not really plot-driven today but plenty of good feelings. Fluffy and smutty.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Darcy was going to make the most of her weekend off. She procured leave for herself and Bucky from the compound. She made sure everything was in its place, though she knew there was a chance Bucky could bail at the last minute.
He helped pack a couple bags. He let her pick the hotel, but Darcy only chose it with Bucky’s specifications in mind. In all likelihood, they wouldn’t leave their bed.
Staying in the city among the skyscrapers made Darcy feel anonymous, and she knew Bucky liked it that way. It was better than a road trip and staying in a little bed and breakfast joint in a small town. That kind of shit drew attention. Bucky liked being able to slip away into a crowd easily if he needed to. He still wore hoodies and caps in public for that reason alone.
When they arrived, Darcy could smell jasmine in their room, the air dry and circulated. The room had a small living room, a terrace, a large bathroom and a master bedroom with a four-poster bed. She tried to not think about how much this cost, dropping her bag on the floor beside the bed. Bucky was back in the living room rummaging through the minibar. Darcy could hear the little glass bottles clinking together and she smiled, launching herself onto the bedspread.
She lay spread-eagle, sighing contentedly.
“You want a beer?” she heard Bucky call, and she smiled wider.
She opened her eyes, blinking up at the ceiling, and she startled.
She was staring up at her reflection. A mirror hung above the bed, and Darcy blinked a couple times, wondering whether she’d somehow missed that on the website when she booked the room.
She heard Bucky come in, and he walked over to the bed, handing Darcy a Corona with a lime wedge stuck in its neck. She sat up, pointing at the ceiling with her beer.
“We got company.”
Bucky’s eyes swiveled above them and he frowned.
“Is that… a sex thing?” he muttered, and Darcy snorted.
“What do you think? Probably business dudes taking their mistresses up her to see how well they fuck. I bet they give themselves a big thumbs-up while they’re drilling their girl…”
Bucky shook his head, smirking. “This century is wild.”
Darcy sipped her beer, shrugging. She nodded behind them at the closet, which had two mirrored sliding doors.
“It’s like… surround sound, but nudity. Every angle imaginable.”
She thought of their being a mirror above the headboard, so that there was an infinite line of nude businessmen bodies. She snorted again. She caught Bucky’s gaze, realizing something.
“You okay? Is it too much?”
Bucky’s relationship with mirrors was a volatile one. He used to avoid them completely, not recognising himself there. He used them to shave in more recent years. To this day, he still grimaced at his reflection.
Bucky turned his head to watch himself, blinking.
“It’s… okay. I’m just wonderin’ about later if I wake up and freak out –”
“We can go somewhere else,” Darcy cut in, grabbing his hand, threading her fingers through his. “I won’t mind.”
“No, it’s… I should be fine,” he murmured, and he sat beside her, pulling her toward him.
They watched Singin’ in the Rain on the plasma screen TV in the lounge, sipping beers and ordering room service. Darcy loved that neither Bucky nor herself felt like lifting a finger, and neither of them were giving the other person a hard time about it.
Three quarters of the way through the movie, Bucky began to kiss Darcy’s temple, moving down to her cheek and jawline. Darcy sighed, her hand on his thigh, becoming distracted. The movie played on while Bucky and Darcy kissed, Bucky’s arms around her, pulling her into his lap.
Darcy was a warm, happy bundle, their movements unhurried. At one point, she tugged Bucky by the hand off the couch, pulling him out the room to move to the bedroom.
All she kept thinking about was how disgustingly cute they must be together, wrapped up in one another, mouths moving, hands grabbing and stroking.
They tumbled together, naked and panting, when Darcy remembered the mirrors and looked up, seeing Bucky lying on top of her in the reflection, his ass in full view.
“Hmm,” she sighed, Bucky’s mouth on her neck, descending to latch onto a nipple. “You’ve got such a cute butt.”
“Hmm?” Bucky replied, and he glanced at her face, seeing her staring above them and he chuckled. “Speak for yourself, darlin’.”
Darcy moaned, his fingers dipping inside her, her eyes fluttering closed. She opened them again, not sure how she felt about watching herself. It felt weird, like she wasn’t supposed to enjoy it, because if she did, then was she getting off on her own image?
“Where’d you go?” Bucky murmured into her skin, moving up to kiss her lips.
His fingers were still inside her, unmoving as his eyes roved her face.
“I don’t know if I like looking at myself,” she said, and she glanced back at Bucky’s face, moving to kiss him back, to refocus on his body in and around her.
“You’re beautiful,” he replied. “I’m kind of… liking the mirrors.”
Darcy began to giggle, and Bucky ducked his head, a little bashful. He withdrew his fingers and licked them clean, making Darcy’s gut flare with arousal and she bit her lip.
He tugged her up so she was kneeling on the mattress, facing the mirror doors on the closet.
“Look at you,” he murmured, and he pushed up behind her, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror.
It was confronting, seeing herself naked, with beautiful Bucky’s face next to hers. She was paler than him, their eyes the same blue. There were the more obvious anatomical differences, plus Bucky’s cybernetic arm that wrapped around her hips.
His flesh hand trailed down to between her legs and Darcy sucked in a breath, watching the reflection like it was a show. It felt pornographic.
“This for me?” he murmured, his lips brushing her skin. His teeth sunk into her neck as Darcy nodded, moaning.
She was wet. She could hear it, she could see it in the low bedroom light, the glistening arousal as Bucky played with her cunt. Her breath hitched as he teased her clit, his eyes glued to her face in the mirror.
Darcy’s eyes fluttered shut, her thighs beginning to shake.
“Keep your eyes open, darlin’,” he murmured, and Darcy obeyed, whimpering at the sight of his fingers working her over with precision and loving attentiveness.
Darcy tensed, her orgasm creeping up on her, and she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut at the last second as she came, bucking her hips to make it last as long as possible.
Her reflection was significantly pinker, sweat gathering on her hairline. Bucky kissed her neck, drew his fingers away from her. When Darcy twitched and panted, recovering, he lay down on his side, his hand petting her thigh.
Darcy glanced at him, wondering what he meant to say before trailing off.
He didn’t answer her so Darcy moved to lay down beside him, touching his face.
“Hey… look at me. Are you okay? Do you want to stop? Bucky?”
He cleared his throat, his eyes darting to the reflection above them. He did this often enough – the quiet little stares off into the distance, thinking things over. Darcy sometimes pushed him harder to express himself, and other times she let him be, let him process things in his own way.
He came back to her, swallowing. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“What’re you thinking about?” she murmured, and she began to stroke his hair, watching his face for any sign that he may be shutting down.
“I’m – I’m thinkin’ about – it’s so stupid…”
“I’m sure it’s not,” Darcy murmured, and he met her gaze.
“What did I do, huh? To deserve…?”
Darcy waited for him to finish his sentence but he shook his head, pressing his lips together.
“I just – I just feel like I did something along the way to – to have you, and have you look at me the way I look at you…”
“Oh, Bucky,” Darcy whispered, and she kissed him. He made a little sound, his hand coming up to cup her head and return the kiss. “Of course you did something. You were you.”
“Don’t,” he said, and Darcy blinked, worried she’d somehow screwed up. He shook his head at her, caressing her cheek with his cybernetic fingers. “Don’t say shit like that or I’ll barricade us in here forever, darlin’.”
Darcy burst into a smile, feeling her eyes mist.
She shifted, throwing her leg over him, Bucky’s head nearly falling off the edge of the mattress. From his viewpoint, he could see them upside down in the closet mirrors, plus the clear view of Darcy’s ass in the mirror above the bed.
Darcy felt his cock twitch against her stomach and she giggled, taking hold of him, lifting her hips to rub him against her, Bucky’s mouth falling open.
“How am I looking, Sarge?”
She knew that nickname got him off and he did not disappoint, hissing as she made her descent. Darcy took each inch of him with her eyes glued to his, her lip between her teeth.
“You’re a fuckin’… dream, Dee,” he whispered, and he moaned, a little broken one when she lifted up and slammed back down. “Fuck, even your waist –”
He placed both hands on her waist, his fingers touching and he growled.
“- can’t get over how you’re fuckin’ built, Jesus…”
His words spurred her on. She wanted him incoherent, lost inside her, moaning long and loud. She picked up speed, Bucky’s hands settling on her ass, every so often his eyes went to the mirror above them before meeting her gaze, his mouth open and panting.
“Fuck, Bucky, you better – you better –”
He pressed a thumb to her clit and Darcy dissolved into a moan, clamping down on him, her whole body tensing. She couldn’t see for a couple seconds as she came, collapsing on top of him. She was vaguely aware of Bucky planting his foot on the mattress and flipping them, Darcy beneath him.
Her mouth found his and Bucky moaned, driving into her, abandoning any manner of control, and Darcy’s nails dug into his shoulders. She stared at her face in the mirror above them, partially hidden by Bucky’s massive shoulder. It reached the point between perfect and a little too much, and thankfully Bucky came soon after, Bucky’s hot breath on her neck as he came with a weak sigh, covered in sweat.
He rolled off of her, panting face-down and Darcy giggled, moving to pat his butt, watching herself do it in the reflection.
Bucky turned his head to peek up at her, his chest still heaving.
“Next time, I want your dick in my mouth, watching me blow you,” she said, pointing to the ceiling.
It took around fifteen minutes for that to occur, right after he cornered her at the bathroom sink, Darcy’s breath fogging up the mirror as he drove into her.
shout out to the ride or die Singin' in the Rain fans that would have finished the movie sometime later that evening, just like Bucky and Darcy definitely did...
Chapter 5: Steve/Darcy - Sadism/Masochism
Again, I don't know why I have to have a backstory for a fuckfest. This wasn't planned on being more than 1,000 words but WHATEVER, brain. (T_T) Anyway.... I used a dialogue prompt feiolinydd gave me on Tumblr. Thank you, I hope you like this! ❤
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
It started with Steve looking down at Darcy’s legs, his eyes widening.
“You okay? Darcy, your knees.”
She looked down, remembering. Her knees were bruised and scraped, as busted as they used to be when she was a child, minus the usual grass stains from the playground. Standing in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee machine to finish pouring, her nose in her phone, she’d been a world away.
She hadn’t thought anyone would notice the marks. They were a couple days old. When they faded completely, Darcy was sure she’d miss them.
“You should see the other guy,” she replied, barely looking up from her phone.
She blushed, realizing what she just said. She’d acknowledged her injuries, without giving a cover. She heard the coffee machine idle and she went to it, picking up her cup.
She looked back at Steve, who was holding a box of cereal, and she could see the cogs turning, the implication of her words.
There was intent behind the marks on her knees.
“I’m fine,” Darcy added, her tone lighter, almost chipper.
She walked out before either of them had another chance to speak.
A girl with fair skin, therefore prone to bruising easily, with a high pain threshold? That turned heads in some circles. She didn’t expect to find anyone at work into anything like that.
It wasn’t advised to bring that into a professional environment. Darcy’s last encounter, the source of the markings on her knees, was a Tinder hook up. He was visiting the city and got them a room at the Hilton. He bought her dinner and drinks, and then he threw her down on the tiled bathroom floor, his cock down her throat.
She didn’t know how to explain it – the need to escape her way, instead of with something less… visceral. The subject rarely came up at work, anyway, what Darcy got up to in her limited free time.
Weeks later, there was a party and Steve was there. Darcy felt his eyes on her more than once. She thought maybe she was imagining it, until he walked over to her.
They leaned against a wall together, each of them drinking from their beer bottles.
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he murmured, and Darcy felt her stomach flip.
Careful, she thought.
“Been busy,” she replied, sipping her drink. “You’ve been busy, too.”
“Yeah,” he said.
The way he was looking at her, she understood then that he knew. He knew her secret. With his memory, he would have the image of her ruined knees seared in his mind forever.
Yet there was no judgment. Darcy didn’t feel exposed. It felt like she should have known he’d accept her as she was.
He stayed by her side the rest of the night, talking about work, joking with her, other people coming by to chat. The night felt very tame.
“What do you like?” she asked, when they walked around the compound one night.
Darcy had her arms crossed while Steve’s hands were in his jacket pockets.
He knew she meant in bed. What do you like in bed?
Her stomach flipped when they exchanged a look, Steve’s brow lifting. She gave a little smile.
“I don’t know.”
Darcy tilted her head. “But you’ve…?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, smiling wider. “Just –”
“You haven’t done what I like,” Darcy finished. “But you know it’s not… necessarily common, in this century, too?”
They’d begun hanging out for the last couple of weeks. Darcy felt as though she had become a new project of his. He was trying to discover the parts of her she hadn’t shown him before.
“What about kissing?” she said, and she stopped walking, causing Steve to halt in turn.
He moved closer to her, his hand reaching to touch her face. His fingers on her skin, tracing her cheekbone, felt almost too tender. It shouldn’t feel that way, this simple gesture. It shouldn’t make Darcy want to grasp hold of him and never let him go.
She wanted to know him, fully. In whatever capacity he’d allow.
When he kissed her, Darcy sighed, closing her eyes. He poured himself into her, the glide of his tongue needy enough to create the sharp line to her cunt. She grabbed his shirt, pressing him into her, wanting more.
They broke apart, Darcy’s face still in his big hands. She pictured them around her neck, and she tried to not get ahead of herself.
“What do you want?” he murmured, practically speaking into her mouth, his long lashes distracting her.
“I want you,” she whispered. “But I…”
I don’t want you to think less of me, she thought. He wasn’t as knowledgeable of this kind of partnership. She knew he was a fast learner.
“I don’t do this because I think less of myself,” she said. “It takes the shit away, the stress, the things that annoy me.”
“I do that when I run,” Steve replied. “It helps. Punching bags, too.”
Darcy nodded, licking her lips. He glanced at her mouth.
“I want you, too.”
It was the third time they had sex when she introduced the concept of pain. The first two times were only minutes ago. It turned out that Darcy finally found someone with as high a sex drive as her. She didn’t understand why Steve didn’t advertise his complete lack of a refractory period. He said it was more of a burden than a gift. He told her of his libido skyrocketing soon after the serum, his dick seeming to have a mind of its own. Darcy sort of wished she’d known him back then. She would have gladly helped him out of that predicament.
Steve drew back from kissing her neck, his hips grinding. He looked her in the eye, his lips parting.
“Don’t ask me if I’m sure,” she said, before he could say anything. “I told you.”
She had a safe word – his middle name, Grant. She thought asking him for what she wanted would help him adapt. Soon he’d be able to take control.
He needed to understand that pain didn’t mean suffering. She wanted it, that rush of knowing it was a little wrong, the endorphins flooding her when her skin buzzed from the collision.
“Do you want to stop?” she asked, when Steve hesitated, his whole body going still.
He nodded. She mimicked him. It wasn’t fair to push him into it. That was the opposite of her goal. She touched his face, assuring him.
Half an hour later, he lay asleep beside her, Darcy’s hand stroking his head. Her heart felt heavy. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t want what she wanted, clearly.
She woke the next morning with Steve’s hand down her front. It took several seconds for Darcy to process it, his palm flat against her stomach, his hard cock rubbing her from behind.
“Please,” she whimpered, and he dipped lower, playing with her.
He took her to the edge, already learning what side of her clit she favored, remembering that she liked minimum three fingers inside her. His teeth grazed her neck, just enough to keep her gasping, wanting more. She tensed, his fingers speeding up.
When she was about to come he pulled out of her and Darcy let out a whine. He grabbed her wrists to stop her from finishing herself off, hissing in her ear:
Darcy squeezed her eyes shut, nodding. He let go of one of her wrists to grab her front, pawing roughly at her tits, squeezing hard, biting down on her neck. He kicked her legs apart when she tried rubbing them together. Lying on their sides, the angle was a little awkward, but he managed to pin her there, and Darcy could feel she was soaking wet.
She lay as still as possible. She waited, feeling him shift against her. He knew she could handle it. They both knew he knew that.
She felt the first impact of his hand on her ass cheek and grunted, gritting her teeth. The sting radiated down her legs, and her cunt clenched around nothing. She took deep breaths, the second slap a bit harder, almost enough. Almost enough to make her –
The third slap made her cry out, unable to control herself. Steve waited a few seconds, for her to speak if she needed to, if it was too much.
She let out a weak little moan when he rubbed her ass, squeezing her tit again. Darcy wanted to cry, it felt so good. She never wanted it to end, the cycle of soothing and punishment.
He did it three more times, three hard smacks, Darcy’s hips circling, unable to find a friction. She felt empty between her legs, and she knew Steve sensed it, too.
“You want it, don’t you?” he murmured, and Darcy nodded. “You want it so bad…”
He felt between her legs without warning and Darcy gasped, wanting to grip his fingers, trap them there and rub against him until she came all over him.
“You’re soakin’ my fingers, Darcy…”
“Please?” she whispered.
“Please can you give me your cock?” she whispered, and he shoved a finger into her, not nearly enough, and he knew it. “Please, please…”
His finger left her, and she heard him suck on it, humming his approval. A second later, he used the same hand to smack her five times in a row, and Darcy screamed, her cunt clenching.
He lifted her with ease, throwing her face first into the bedspread, pushing her ass into the air and shoving her legs apart with his thigh. Darcy felt his cock bump her stinging ass and she moaned, twisting her neck to glance back at him.
She watched him take hold of his cock, rubbing between her ass cheeks, his lip between his teeth. He sunk into her and Darcy balled her fists beside her head, turning to press her face into the sheets.
He was rough with her – rougher than before, fucking her like he was mad at her. He smacked her ass with both hands a few times, making Darcy clench down on him harder than ever. She felt so stretched, overwhelmed by the angle. She could hear the slap of his balls against her, she could hear that her cunt was dripping with excitement and she panted, moaning in time to each bone-shattering thrust. The thought had occurred to her that it was possible he could tear her up, if he wanted to. She knew he never would, but that would be the best way to go, at least, in Darcy’s mind.
She moaned, feeling she was close, her cunt gripping him, her hands latching onto the sheets. If it weren’t for him holding her in place, she was sure she’d have fallen off the bed from the force of him.
“You look so good, Dee,” he panted, laughing a little. “Taking me like this. Maybe I’ll tie you up and use you all weekend.”
“God,” Darcy moaned, because that would be a dream come true. “Steve.”
“You gonna come for me? It’s what you’re good for, makin’ me come, but what about you?”
Even in this little scene, Steve was thinking about what she wanted, what she needed. It was his way of asking her how he could help. Darcy was no fool – this thing was entirely for her benefit, but she could hear Steve enjoying himself, by how ragged his breath became as he drove into her.
She was focused on the sensations of him inside her, taking his pleasure from her, bumping her cervix when he slammed into her. As Steve reached between Darcy’s legs to pinch her clit, her body was alight and she let out a groan.
“Let me hear you, Dee,” Steve said, his tone more demanding than before. “Show me how much you like it.”
“Fuck,” Darcy whimpered, and she felt a sob bubble up. She knew when she was at the crying stage, she was close. It was her marker. Any second now, she knew she’d start to scream.
Steve slowed down, but smacked into her harder, her clit throbbing under his touch. He started to moan, his other hand biting into her ass.
“God, you’re gonna make me come,” he growled, and Darcy felt the smack of his hand, the scratch of his nails as he petted and soothed. “Tell me how much you want that, Dee.”
“Please,” she whimpered. “I want it so bad… I want it… I want you to make a mess of me…”
He sped up, and Darcy screamed, clamping down on him, writhing and helpless. She couldn’t see, at least not while she came back down, and she panted into the sheet, her legs trembling. Steve began to huff.
“Fuck, I’m – I’m comin’,” he panted. He let out a growl and went still, shoving as deep into as he could. Darcy felt him twitch inside her, and she squeezed him.
Steve laughed, breathless, smacking her ass once more.
“You’re… fuckin’ greedy.”
He pulled out of her, Darcy’s ass still in the air, and she felt the come seeping out of her. She was still twitching in earnest. Steve’s hand smoothed over her ass and Darcy squeezed again. She liked the audience, having someone examine her so up close.
“Fuckin’ greedy,” Steve said again.
Darcy let out a gasp, feeling his fingers play with her, three shoving inside her and pumping hard. She jerked her hips but Steve was faster, pinning her in place with his other hand. All Darcy could do was take it, and she loved it. She gave a guttural moan when she came, and Steve spanked her twice more, her cunt trapping his fingers.
He pulled away from her, Darcy panting, her whole body aching from tensing over and over. She let herself fall forward, face down on the pillow, closing her eyes for several seconds. She knew she wouldn’t be able to move for a few minutes, but she knew she had to clean up. She was not having a UTI mess her up. No sex was worth that, she had to remind herself time and time again. She managed to roll over and remember the layout of the apartment - she had stayed over at Steve's, and his place was a lot like hers...
She managed to get to the bathroom and clean up, and she couldn't help thinking of the last time she'd done this. The care involved afterwards was always a little blurry, because the recovery felt like a dream, so clear in the moment and yet forgotten by the time it was over.
Darcy must have made it back to the bed, because Steve was putting a cup of coffee on the bedside table a moment later, sitting while Darcy lay on her side, staring up at him.
"You were amazing," he said, and Darcy bit her lip, overcome.
It had to have done his research, anticipating what she wanted to hear. He was looking at her like she hung the moon. He moved down to kiss her, and it was the first kiss they'd had since last night. She slid her fingers into his hair and Steve sighed, wrapping his arms around her. He kissed her face, pulling back to smile at her.
"I love it when you talk dirty," she whispered, and he chuckled.
"Really? I couldn't tell..."
They laughed together, Steve's hand dipping down from her hip to glide over her still-stinging skin. Darcy gave a low hiss, and then pulled Steve into another kiss.
Chapter 6: Darcy/Bucky - Biting
A lot shorter today! Yay! ❤
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Darcy let out a high exhale, her hand on the back of Bucky’s head, mashing his face into her cunt as she came.
It felt all the more intense because he wasn’t stuffing her with his fingers so there was nothing to distract her, and she kept going, thinking it might be a blended orgasm…
Bucky began to chuckle, and she turned her head toward him, her grip loosening.
“What’s so funny?” she whispered.
Whenever he ate her out from behind, Darcy went bright pink at the sight of him being shoved up to her ass cheeks, and this time was no different.
“You’re still twitchin’,” he murmured, and his tongue swirled around, his hand patting her rear.
Darcy shivered, jerking her hips away.
“No, no… I’m… It’s too much…”
Bucky let out sound low in his throat, licking her still and Darcy gave a breathless laugh, closing her eyes.
“Fuck…” she glanced at him, seeing that determined glint in his eye, and she moved back, gasping. “You know I’ll have beard burn all over my ass, too…”
“I think you like it,” he replied, muffled.
His tongue began to flick and Darcy surrendered, closing her eyes, feeling warm and wet all over, from sweat and arousal. When she came again she lay down on her stomach, his mouth off her. It didn’t stop him from touching her, kneading her ass and nipping at the widest part of her hips.
She pushed her ass into the air and he moved up her body, pushing one leg up, rubbing his leaking cock against her. As he tucked inside her and began to rock his hips, Darcy sighed.
He kissed her neck, the side of her face. He caught her in a sloppy kiss, and Darcy could taste herself all over his skin. She knew he’d smell of her for hours.
“Go harder,” she whispered, and Bucky obliged, smacking his hips into her ass. “Yes, fuck – fuck…”
She felt so full, reveling in how they fitted together, his bulk pressing her down into the mattress, his panting in her ear. Darcy grabbed his hand, guiding it between her legs.
“Christ, Darce,” he gasped, as she clenched around him, squeezing him hard. “Drivin’ me crazy…”
“You love it,” she whispered, and they laughed together, breathing ragged.
“I do, I do…”
He moaned, leaning down and he grazed her shoulder with his teeth. Darcy shivered, smiling.
“Bite me,” she repeated. She glared at him. “Fucking bite me.”
She knew she would hate to hear that back on a tape, her voice all rough and demanding, but it seemed to work on Bucky, because he leaned back for a second, his eyebrows raised.
“You’re so angry,” he whispered, leaning forward, his eyes still bright with mirth. He slammed into her, and Darcy moaned.
He pinched her nipple and she shuddered, nuzzling her neck. Darcy let out a little gasp when she felt his teeth sink in, his thrusts speeding up.
Darcy felt like an animal, like he was marking her as his own, keeping her in place as he rutted. He kept her hovering above her climax, until she was begging for the release, his hand finally going to where they joined, rubbing her clit.
Darcy stilled, clenching him, panting. Bucky turned her over and tucked back inside her, kissing her hard. Darcy had barely recovered, panting, nipping at Bucky's mouth. She caught him and he groaned, his lower lip between her teeth.
He liked it.
"You heal too fast," Darcy panted, Bucky's mouth on her neck again, rocking his hips. "I can't - I can't mark you, right?"
Bucky drew back, his eyes black. "Uh... do you... want to try?"
Darcy got the feeling he was telling her he wanted it. Darcy leaned closer, rubbing her lips on his throat, licking his Adam's apple. His grip on her tightened, Darcy's firm kisses turning into little bites, her teeth latching onto his pulse point.
It wasn't a hickey. She hesitated, until Bucky made another soft groan, his hips grinding.
She bit him, hard, and Bucky moaned, his hips speeding up. His hands scrambled, gripping the sheets. Darcy broke away from him as he came, staring up at the little mark on his neck.
"Damn..." Bucky whispered, wiping his face, laughing. "Did you...?"
"It's fading," Darcy murmured, tracing the little dents where her teeth had been. "We could keep trying."
Bucky lit up at the suggestion.
Chapter 7: Darcy/Bucky - Aphrodisiacs
I was thinking about doing the quintessential sex pollen trope, but I wanted to avoid the dubious consent. I will tag this as dubious consent anyway, since Bucky accidentally eats an aphrodisiac before having consensual sex with Darcy. I'd rather warn you than NOT warn you. ❤
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
If it was anybody else, Darcy would think she’d been stood up.
She was running a couple minutes late anyway, as she came up from the labs to the kitchens in the common room, but Bucky was nowhere to be found. She waited half an hour before she decided to go to his apartment to check on him.
She lifted her hand to knock on his door.
No answer, and Darcy put her ear to the door, hearing the sounds of his TV. She pursed her lips, frowning. Maybe he’d fallen asleep?
She knocked louder.
“Bucky… honey, are you okay? It’s Darcy.”
She threw pet names around like confetti, but this was someone special, someone who reciprocated her feelings. At least, that’s what she thought when he finally asked her out yesterday. Darcy had hesitated because he was still twitchy, and pushing him too far was always a bad idea. When he asked her out for coffee, he promised to meet her in the common rooms, and then Darcy kissed him, a short peck on the lips.
Had she somehow misinterpreted his intent and gone too far? She didn’t think so. At the time, he’d blushed and dazzled her with a grin that was brief but memorable as hell.
“I… I don’t think I can make it to… coffee.”
Darcy’s frown intensified.
“Are you sick? Like a… stomach flu or something?”
She kept her ear to the door, waiting. He took a while to reply.
“Let me in,” she called. “I’m not squeamish.”
He didn’t agree to her suggestion and she sighed.
“Bucky, I’m not leaving until I know you're okay. Do you need me to get Steve?”
She thought about trying to talk him down from a ledge, and maybe his male friends were a better idea. She was pretty sure Sam was out of town right now.
“No!” she heard him call, a little sharp. “Uh, it’s… it’s not that I’m sick.”
What the hell was going on? Darcy tried for the knob.
“Bucky, give FRIDAY the authorization. I want to see you. Then I’ll go. I’ll leave you alone.”
She waited for a whole minute with no reply from him, and she sighed again. She turned to move back toward the elevator when she heard the door click and she turned back, grabbing the knob.
She opened the door, readying herself, but nothing happened. She walked down the hallway to see Bucky sitting on the couch, a cushion on his lap. His teeth were grit and Darcy could see the sheen of sweat all over his face and flesh arm.
“Are you okay?” she blurted, and she came over to him, searching his face. “Did you hurt your back or something?”
Bucky shook his head, and his eyes dipped to Darcy’s shirt and then he squeezed his eyes shut. He was breathing heavily and Darcy moved closer, sitting beside him, her bag dropped on the floor beside the couch.
“Look, this is,” Bucky started, and he took a deep breath. “You cannot tell anyone about this, or I’ll never live it down.”
Darcy’s eyes went to the cushion on his lap, tilting her head.
“I’m sure you’re not making me guess –”
“Yeah, I’m definitely not gettin’ a date after this,” he muttered to himself, glancing up at the ceiling.
He was sweating bullets. Darcy moved to touch his forehead and he shrank back.
“Not a good idea right now,” he blurted, his eyes a little wider.
“Bucky, your shirt is soaked,” Darcy retorted, and her fingers brushed his arm for a second, completely by accident.
Bucky groaned behind his grit teeth, his eyes shutting. He huffed.
“What triggered you?” Darcy asked, dropping her voice. She’d seen him anxious before, but nothing like this.
“It ain’t anxiety, sweetheart,” he whispered, gasping. “I… Fuck, I ate a cookie.”
Darcy screwed up her face in confusion. “What? A cookie?”
“One of the ones from the fridge in the kitchens…” Bucky mumbled, biting his lip, eyes still squeezed shut.
Darcy felt herself blush. The sight of him all torn up reminded her of a guy trying to not –
“Oh, my God,” Darcy said, realizing. “They weren’t… Thor’s?”
“I have no idea,” Bucky whispered, a little desperate. “I got nervous waitin’ for you so I ate whatever I could find and now I’m…”
Darcy vaguely recalled Jane telling her about these special cookies that resembled pink little macarons that Thor’s people ate to celebrate the end of winter. They were meant to help with the harvest, but Darcy knew it was about fertility.
“Did you eat the whole thing?” Darcy asked, and Bucky shook his head.
His eyes opened and he pointed vaguely toward his kitchen. Darcy got up, walking out to find the little cookie sitting on the counter, and she picked it up, sniffing it.
It had a vaguely floral scent and she broke a little piece off, assessing it up close.
“FRIDAY, can you analyze this?” she murmured.
“Yes, one moment, please.”
Darcy watched the little light beam down and run across the cookie that she held in her palm.
Darcy walked back to the living room, sitting down next to Bucky, waiting for FRIDAY. Bucky rubbed his face with his hand, his knee beginning to jiggle.
“The cookie contains a substance not found on Earth. Therefore it may not be suitable for human consumption. High quantities of this aphrodisiac may cause myocardial infarction, or, a heart attack.”
Darcy dropped the cookie, her eyes wide.
“Jesus.” She glanced at Bucky. “You basically just ate crack for your dick.”
Bucky laughed, weak and shaky. “I’d normally tell ya that’s funny, but… I’m…. goin’ crazy…”
“You’re poisoned,” Darcy amended. “How are we supposed to… combat the symptoms –?”
“Sargent Barnes’ symptoms of hyperarousal will take an hour or so to dissipate, if his metabolism is still functioning.”
“Is it?” Darcy cut in, and Bucky bit his lip, shrugging.
“I guess so. I ate a cake before I got to the cookie.”
He must have been really nervous, then. Darcy reached for him and he took her hand in his, swallowing thickly. Darcy looked down at the cushion.
“You… try to take care of yourself?”
It was wild that they were going from blushing friends with feelings to talking about masturbation, but Darcy knew this was just how her life operated now… in very weird ways. Also, why was Thor’s sex cookies in the communal fridge?
“Yeah,” he said, his face flushing. He averted his gaze. “I…”
“How many times?”
“Twice,” Bucky mumbled to the floor.
“You came twice?” Darcy blurted, and he nodded. “Wow. And that did nothing?”
“I dunno… I just… I keep wantin’ to…”
Darcy moved closer, and she could feel his body heat radiating off of him, her spare hand lying flat on the cushion.
He was staring at her mouth, his pupils so dilated they looked almost black. Darcy leaned toward him and Bucky sucked in a breath.
“Can I help?” she murmured.
“I don’t want – I mean, I’m not ready for…”
Poor Bucky was struggling to find his words, his eyes darting to her chest and then back up to her eyes, his blush deepening.
“Not all the way,” Darcy interjected, and he nodded.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, and she smiled at him, her hand gliding up his arm to meet his shoulder.
He tilted his head, moving in to brush her nose with his, wetting his lips.
“Kiss me, it’s okay,” she whispered, nodding. “I want you to touch me.”
He pressed his mouth to hers, moaning instantly, and his arm came up to wrap around her middle, pulling her toward him. Bucky’s grip on her tightened when she nudged the seam of his lips with her tongue. Their mouths opened and Darcy sighed, both her hands in Bucky’s hair.
She’d thought about the possibility of him being touch-starved because of HYDRA. She knew he might become overwhelmed, highly responsive to her, but this was something else.
Darcy didn't remember the last time she was kissed this way - all new and electrifying. He couldn't seem to get enough of her
He drank from her, moaning and mumbling her name, shoving the cushion aside and placing her on his lap. She felt his hard on and gasped. He couldn’t keep still, his hands moving around to grasp her curves, his mouth on her face and mouth, and then her neck, his hips rocking –
“Fuck, I – fuck, I –” he babbled, and Darcy began to laugh softly, feeling light-headed.
“Come for me,” she whispered in his ear, and he went still, cuddling her to him.
He let out a moan by her ear, making Darcy shiver. She glanced down a second later, seeing the damp spot on the crotch of his jeans.
He was panting, but his eyes were bright, still amped up. Darcy’s hand reached for him and he whimpered, a helpless sound low in this throat.
“I want it, I want it,” Darcy whispered, feeling like she had heatstroke by how warm she was in the face and neck.
She knew she’d find it all very undignified if she wasn’t so turned on, the frantic movements to get his dick out, his jeans shucked down his thighs.
He was messy, sticky with come and sweat, standing to attention as Darcy wrapped a hand around him, starting to stroke him. His cock was thick and uncut, with a curve Darcy could really picture enjoy riding, but she wasn’t doing that today.
“This okay?” she murmured, and Bucky nodded.
“Please… please keep touchin’ me,” he whispered. “Fuck, I feel like I’m gonna explode.”
Darcy ran a hand up his thigh and he shivered, his cock twitching. She tried to not overstimulate him, keeping the focus between his legs, her other hand cupping his face.
“What do you like?” she murmured, and Bucky hissed.
“I like… you touchin’ me,” he replied. “Your hands are so soft…”
Darcy smiled, encouraging him. “You have a pretty cock.”
“Christ,” Bucky hissed, closing his eyes. “You… I’m comin’…”
Already? She’d barely touched him. She looked down, and then saw the fresh cords of come splash over her fist and his stomach and Bucky thrusted into her grip, whimpering.
He panted, pulling her into a kiss, sloppy and desperate. He nipped at her skin, his mouth sucking hard on her neck.
Darcy gave a little whimper, his hand under her shirt. Bucky pulled back, panting, searching her face.
“I’m very okay with this,” she said before he could ask. “What about you?”
Bucky surged toward her, pushing Darcy so she fell down onto the couch, her name still pouring out of him, his movements as reckless as an animal in heat.
“Wanna come… wanna make you come, too…”
His hand cupped her through her leggings and Darcy dissolved into a moan, bucking her hips to meet his fingers pressing into the folds of her cunt.
“Don’t stop,” she panted. “Fuck… could you, inside my -?”
Bucky obliged, laughing breathlessly at the face she made when he got his hand down the front of her leggings, his flesh fingers on her wet cunt.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, pulling her into a searing kiss.
When Darcy came, Bucky followed her soon after, his sweat dripping onto her front when he tensed above her. She wriggled out, tugging off her clothes, Bucky doing the same. They tangled together on the floor, rubbing against each other, moaning and lost in the haze of need.
Darcy thought she was going to pass out when Bucky made her come no less than three times with his tongue and fingers. She was bright red from the rash he’d left behind, his face soaked with sweat and Darcy’s juices. He wiped himself with his shirt, panting on the floor.
Darcy was sure her face was rubbed raw, too.
She moved down his front, planting kisses across his muscles, his cock thick and leaking, waiting for her when she finally reached it, licking a firm stripe up its underside.
“How are you feeling?” she murmured, and Bucky blinked at the ceiling, his lip between his teeth.
He let out a gasp, his throat bobbing.
“Kind of… not so twitchy.”
“It’s wearing off?” Darcy asked, and he nodded.
He watched her take him to the back of her throat at then some, before she pulled back with a gasp, her eyes watering.
“Good,” Darcy said, sounding as though she wasn’t practically choking on his dick a second ago. “Because I want to taste your come and then go get coffee.”
Bucky let out a growl at her words, his hand shaking as he clutched the side of her face.
Darcy hummed, going for it, bobbing her head. She knew she probably looked like a wreck, but Bucky seemed to appreciate it, his cursing and praises intermingling as she worked him over greedily.
“I’m… fuck, I’m comin’,” he whispered. “Babydoll… yes, yes…”
Darcy laughed, before she went back in, sucking him through it all. His come hit the back of her throat and she swallowed, licking him all over as he came down. He pulled her off of him, strings of spit on her chin and throat.
They panted, Bucky’s arms around her, Darcy’s face pressed to his chest. She felt something tickle and pulled a little hair from her stomach, recognizing it as Bucky’s. Her eyes felt heavy, her limbs leaden and useless.
“You were nervous about our date?” Darcy asked, as if the conversation was never interrupted before by their little orgasm marathon.
“Yeah,” Bucky whispered, his mouth pressed to her hair. “I was stupid.”
“I was nervous, too,” Darcy admitted, and Bucky’s eyebrows hiked. She tilted her head, looking up at him. “Thought maybe I came on too strong.”
She knew that was ridiculous, considering what just happened. Bucky gave her a little smile, shaking his head.
“Nah, Darcy. That kiss was perfect.”
She beamed, cuddling up to him and sighing.
In Thor's defence, he probably hoped Steve would find one, too. He and Bucky aren't great with modern fridge etiquette. Also, Thor would refer to them as "love cuisine" or something like that.
Chapter 8: Darcy/Bucky - Sex Work
I wrote 8k words for day 8. My excuse is I was feeling lonely and drank a lot of coffee in one sitting. Also, I don't know why I'm explaining that. I don't think this needs to be a longer fic than it already is...
This takes place after Winter Soldier.
Shout out to sarahbeniel for being my emotional switchboard lady. Too bad we can't do this shit in person.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
"I'll be your baby doll and your bodyguard if you tell me to
I'll try to make it all not as hard if you let me through..."
- "Peach" by Kevin Abstract
He had the layout of the gas station in a matter of seconds. He went to the back, grabbing snacks and shoving them into his hoodie pocket, listening out for any new people. As far as he could tell, the clerk was by themselves, with no-one working out back.
The clerk was watching him from the enclosure behind the counter, the register locked away from would-be thieves. He counted four cameras, but he knew there were more. He thought about disabling them, and then he reminded himself to pick his battles. He was desperately hungry and needed to refuel. He didn’t think there was anything too distinct about him, just that he probably smelt a little ripe since the sponge bath two nights ago. He should probably go the bathroom around the corner and at least try scrubbing under his arms.
A truck pulled up outside and he swallowed, tensing as he watched it idle, the driver’s and passenger doors opening. A middle-aged white guy with a thick grey beard and bald head stepped out. His passenger was a young brunette woman wearing a tight long-sleeved shirt and jeans, all curves and soft skin. She walked ahead, ducking into the gas station.
He watched them walk past, and he headed to the refrigerators. He needed to hydrate, grabbing the biggest Gatorade he could find, feeling his heartbeat increase as he sensed the woman coming up behind him.
“Excuse me,” she murmured, and he sucked in a breath, her arm slipping past him to grab a smaller, purple Gatorade. She glanced up at him and smiled, a little one, but Bucky froze, his eyes widening.
It was like having a bright light shone in his face. She made him shrink back, overwhelmed. She turned away, walking toward the register. The bald guy was staring at Bucky, asking for some cigarettes without facing the clerk. Bucky shut the refrigerator door, his jaw tensing.
He slowly made his way to the register, the bald guy no longer watching him. He threw down several notes, asking if there was an ATM nearby. The clerk indicated the one in the corner near the door in accented English. Bucky stood several feet away, trying to focus on anywhere but the girl’s ass, which was distinctly heart-shaped. The bald guy walked over to the ATM and the woman turned away from the counter, opening her bag of candy.
She held Bucky’s gaze for a microsecond, and there was that smile again.
“Bye,” he replied, his voice rough. He didn’t know the last time he spoke. It was crazy that he did it automatically then. He didn’t need to be reminded he was allowed to speak. He stared after her, and then felt the bald guy’s eyes on him, somewhat territorial.
Bucky didn’t think he was her father. They looked nothing alike. Then the woman took the cash and stuffed it into her back pocket of her jeans, a little giggle escaping her.
The penny dropped and Bucky heard a clicking sound.
“Buddy, hey,” the clerk called, and Bucky blinked, turning toward the counter and finally stepping forward.
He shoved everything from his pockets toward the clerk, shelling out several notes. He felt a blush all over his face. He left a minute or so later, watching the red truck speed off into the night.
He tore open a Clif bar and bit into it, contemplating the girl. He was still getting used to things, but he recalled working girls growing up. It was the world’s oldest profession. He thought of her ass in those jeans and swallowed his food, something stirring in the base of his spine.
He washed up in the bathroom, counting eight spiders. His heightened sense of smell made him gag a couple times but he managed to get out of there without throwing up his food, stalking off into the night.
The warmer night meant he was less likely to freeze to death, but he kept his hood on, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he walked back to the hotel. He spotted the same red truck – without meaning to, he remembered the plates. The girl was there with her client. His lips parted at the realization, glancing around. He could hear people playing TVs in their rooms. He ducked his head, pushing aside the thoughts. If he concentrated too much he’d hear the buzzing of the fluorescent lights, and then he’d never sleep. Not that he did that too well, anyway.
He left the hotel the next morning, going to the library to read something and try and stay out of the heat. He got a few looks from other patrons but he kept his head down, trying to not disturb the peace, flipping a page in his chair. He chose a spot that gave him the full scope of the library floor, to stop anyone from sneaking up on him. He glanced at his page, trying to settle into the bean bag.
After a couple hours of reading, he heard a soft tutting and swung his eyes towards the source of the sound. He froze, seeing a brunette woman at a desk with her laptop open, frowning at whatever she was reading.
It was the girl from last night, wearing a similar outfit, except with a pair of glasses she pushed up, her lips pursed in concentration. Bucky blinked, feeling himself flush at the sight of her tits pushed up to the neckline of her shirt. He glanced down at her hips. She sighed in frustration, twisting in her seat to grab something from her bag, its strap slung over her chair, briefly turning her rear in Bucky’s line of sight.
I’d recognize that ass anywhere, he thought. It didn’t feel like it was his thought, though. Someone else’s, someone he thought he knew…
Fuck, he needed to get out of there. He sat up abruptly, the bean bag moving audibly, and he felt nervous sweat break out all over him, sure he was getting a couple stares. She was throwing him off, making him clumsy.
He put his book aside without shutting it, and walked past the girl, his head down. He made a beeline for the nearest exit, his stomach churning. He needed to leave.
He walked down the street to the park. He slept there two nights ago, after he swiped the wallets from the YMCA locker room. He sat under a tree, breathing heavily. He pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes, sucking in a shaky breath, exhaling roughly through his nose. He licked his lips, hands going to his pockets, pulling out the stack of notes he still had.
He thought about buying a bus ticket, then cursed himself for not checking that shit the second he got to the library earlier. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back to rest against the tree. His knee jiggled while he thought it over.
Then he spotted her coming out of the library, her laptop under one arm. She looked irritated, muttering under her breath as she walked closer. Bucky kept still, pulled his hood further down. He couldn’t make out the words so easily, but she knew she was cursing with fervour, and he felt his lips tweak in a brief smirk.
Damn, when was the last time that happened? He pushed his hoodie back, seeing her walking away to the parking lot. The car she stopped at to open was a silver Nissan something that Bucky recognized as a pretty shitty car, by the way it struggled to start. He heard it turn over and the girl backed out of the parking lot. Her music was very loud, something with a heavy bass.
He waited another fifteen minutes before he stalked back to the library, and in the spur of the moment he took the computer closest to the desk she sat at before. He wondered if he could smell her on the furniture, only to dismiss his intentions as creepy and wrong, before opening up a web browser to find a bus timetable.
He could catch the next Greyhound tomorrow. He could head north, maybe find a place remote enough that he wouldn’t run into anyone for a while. Was Nebraska a little too close to the cold he remembered? He thought about doing the opposite, heading further into the heat, but it would be full of kids having their summer vacations. It all sounded sad to Bucky, so he closed the web browser and decided to head back to the park. He opened his backpack, making sure he wasn’t being watched before he pulled out his notebook. He leafed through the pages, picking up a biro pen and scrawling ASS in one margin.
He felt guilty for the stranger he’d represented by a single word, but in all fairness, it was worth noting. He hadn’t shown any sign of sexuality for several days. And maybe it was perverted, but he was glad he was a little more human, his blood warming at the sight of someone else.
He kept watching the people walk by, moved a couple times when he thought it was necessary. The sun began to set and he thought about getting another hotel room. The place he was at was okay, but he wondered if he should wait until he left town to splurge on a mattress instead of a park bench.
He got to the hotel parking lot, his hands holding the straps of his backpack. He knew he’d have to move soon, make a decision.
He startled, seeing the girl from before, the little brunette. She was walking over to him, her handbag swinging. There weren’t a lot of people around, and he wondered how he managed to sneak up on him like that. He spotted her car in the distance, parked around the corner. She must have seen him standing there, staring into space like some slack-jawed idiot.
“Sorry,” she said, her hands up. “I didn’t mean to make you shit yourself. I walk sorta quiet.”
Bucky felt the heat rise in his cheeks, words failing him.
“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” she said, laughing a little, the sound awkward. “With the 7-Eleven last night and the library –”
“You saw me at the library?” he asked, not recognizing his own voice.
She smiled. “Yeah, I tend to notice guys like you.”
Bucky blinked. “Guys… like me.”
She giggled, and he could tell it was genuine. It burst out of her and she covered her mouth, her face changing.
“Oh, you’re serious,” she said, and she waved her hand. “Never mind. I just meant you’re easy on the eyes.”
Bucky thought of his wide, shifty eyes, his dirty clothes, his long stringy hair. She wasn’t making a lot of sense.
“Maybe consider buying a Groucho Marx pair of glasses or get plastic surgery if you mean to blend in,” she added with a wink, and she made to move past him, her hips swinging.
That name wrung some bell in the recesses of his mind. Maybe a movie? Did he see a movie with a guy called Groucho in it?
He could smell body odor, stale air in a windowless movie theater. For several seconds he felt the material of a dress on the palm of his hand, his arm draped around a dame. The air was full of smoke, a cigarette between the fingers of his spare hand.
The girl was walking away from him. She was wearing a pair of shorts, showing off her legs. He itched to touch her skin.
“Hey,” he blurted, and she stopped, turning her head.
Her eyebrows hiked and she moved back, stopping several feet away from him. A safe distance, Bucky realized.
“What’s up?” she said, and Bucky gaped for a few seconds. “You wanted something?”
There was a little relief, her words out instead of him trying to navigate it. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever made an exchange like this.
“Yeah,” he managed to reply, clearing his throat. “If…”
“I’m not free, sweetheart,” she said, her voice a little lower.
“Yeah,” he said again. He thought of the little wad of notes.
She moved closer, her eyes running up and down him, scrutinising. Bucky was reminded of the last time someone looked at him that way, assessing how much of a threat he was. It was a homeless guy in D.C., and Bucky very nearly broke his jaw when he jumped him with a couple other guys. Being reminded of that made his heartbeat pick up even more.
“Let’s get a room,” the girl said.
“Okay,” Bucky whispered, his gaze averting.
She began walking toward the reception, Bucky’s eyes on the ground. He thought about the likelihood of her being an enemy. He’d seen her three times now, so the odds were higher than usual. He couldn’t see any weapons on her, but she could be hiding something in her bag. If it came to it, he could snap her neck. The thought of having to do that made him nauseous.
When she pushed open the receptionist door, she flashed a smile at the woman at the front desk.
“We’d like a room for the night, please,” she said.
Bucky froze when she moved toward him, tugging him by his right arm. He dug into the pocket of his hoodie with his other hand, fishing out the cash as the receptionist narrowed her eyes at them. Bucky felt it was very obvious what was going on, but the woman made no comment, gave him a key wordlessly. They exited, Bucky’s heart racing, the girl’s hand still on his arm.
He read the number, 13, on the key’s laminated label and they walked down the alley behind the reception to find the room. He could hear the TVs like last night, the crickets and the hums of the vending machines that passed.
They stopped at 13, the girl murmuring, “Unlucky-lucky thirteen…”
Bucky thought about how she must hate this. She had to, with that tone. She sounded tired, weary. He thought about giving her cash and asking her to leave, but then she smiled at him, turning the key in the lock.
“Oh, well,” she whispered.
They ducked inside, and she flipped on the light. It was identical to the place Bucky stayed in last night, number 18. He would bet the faucet leaked, too. He waited, looking at the floor. The girl put down her bag next to the bed.
“How much?” he asked, and he hated it, he hated asking her that. He thought he could taste bile a second later, swallowing as he dared to glance at her face.
“Two hundred,” she replied. “I’ve got rubbers.”
Bucky nodded, his cheeks burning. He had no idea if that was her ripping him off or not. Inflation made things confusing and he hadn’t adjusted his expectations. Bucky took out his cash and counted two hundred, putting it between his middle and forefinger, moving toward her.
She took the money, flashing a smile.
She tilted her head toward the bathroom. “Go wash up and I’ll be out here waiting.”
Bucky nodded, and he walked off, exhaling shakily when he closed the door behind him. His reflection was terrified-looking, and wrong. He glanced away, feeling sick. He thought about her dashing off while he was in there, and honestly, he wouldn’t blame her. He’d be a little pissed off that he had wasted the cash, but in all likelihood… was anything even going to happen after he showered and went back out there?
He peeled off his clothes, including the glove that covered his cybernetic hand. He turned on the shower, the water pressure no worse than the last shower he took, and he ducked under. The lathered up with the little soap, washed his hair. He paused at his crotch, the water beating on his chest as he looked down. He rested a hand there for a second, unsure.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
He washed everything, not looking down anymore. He rinsed and shut off the water. He dried himself off, and he could hear the girl put on the TV, the sounds of someone talking, and then laughter. He took a deep breath and opened the door, slipping out to the main room. The girl sat with her phone under her nose, typing something in rapid succession. She glanced up, smiling.
“Just letting my girlfriend know how my date’s going.”
Bucky knew what she implied. Someone would miss her if she disappeared, so he better not try anything. He wondered what type of gun she had, because when she picked up her handbag again to put her phone away, there was a distinct thud when she put it back down.
She cleared her throat. “Feeling better after a shower?”
He nodded, feeling the water drip from his hair onto his shirt. He’d redressed, and he wondered what to do now. The sound of the late night talk show on the TV filled the silence as the girl shifted on her spot at the end of the bed.
“Sit down,” she murmured, and Bucky nodded, moving closer.
Sitting next to her, he could see how small she was compared to him. She smelt good, sweet. It wasn’t overpowering. Bucky wasn’t sure people were aware of how much they stank of the shit they spritzed themselves with. Whatever she wore must have worn off throughout the day, or maybe it was something in her clothes, like the soap she used to scrub everything. Bucky remembered people used machines exclusively now, at least in America. He saw the commercials. He’d spent enough time in laundromats. He had to keep reminding himself what was considered normal.
He met her gaze, and her eyes were warm. Her eyes were intensely blue, her lashes long and thick. He knew his face was bright red under her gaze.
“You got a name?” she murmured.
Bucky swallowed thickly. “Uh… J-James.”
She glanced at his mouth. He didn’t think she was convinced. In this line of work, she was probably up to her neck in fake names. She smirked.
They fell silent and Bucky looked down at her throat, then her arm, her wrist and then her little hands. The delicate bones, the red nail polish on each finger… his gaze snapped up to hers when she spoke again.
“You haven’t done this before.”
“No,” he whispered.
She reached for him then, her hand resting on his thigh. He could feel the warmth of her and he felt the goose bumps break out. He watched her move closer, her other hand coming closer, honing in on his lap…
“Can I kiss you?”
Dee paused, and she blinked. She seemed surprised, but she smiled a second later.
Bucky swallowed, wetting his lips. Her hands stayed still as he closed the gap, shifting so his head was tilted. She moved up, and he felt her breath on his mouth.
The kiss was slow and tentative, Bucky’s lips brushing hers. He thought of the last few weeks, and he never thought he’d do this – be this close to someone and actually touch them, have them touch him back. He felt himself flinch when her hand came up to touch the side of his face.
“Sorry,” he whispered, and Dee shook her head.
“It’s okay… has it been a while?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, a little relieved he didn’t have to explain.
She closed her eyes and he copied her, this time Dee kissing him. He tried letting go, focusing on her mouth, feeling how soft he was. He sighed, her lip between his two, and it turned into something more, the glide of their mouths triggering something he thought he’d forgotten. It was eerie, being aware that he’d done this before, years and years ago. The kissing was innocent enough but he felt that stirring again, this time in his gut, radiating down to his crotch.
Dee pulled back, blinking up at him. “That wasn’t so bad.”
Bucky got the feeling that she was being kind, but he appreciated it, more so than he could probably ever say. He felt his chest tighten, that she was at least acting this way with him. He sucked in a breath when her little hand rested on his belt buckle a second later.
“Let’s take these off,” she whispered.
Bucky blinked rapidly, remembering something without meaning to – hands shoving him into a cell, a jet of water that shoved him against a wall… he thought of searing pain when he was struck across the face… the hands that pushed him into the chair before the rubber bit was stuck in his mouth…
“James?” Dee murmured, her voice changing. It no longer had the husky timbre, she sounded concerned. “You okay?”
Bucky gulped, blinking reality back. “Yeah…”
“Are you here?” she murmured, touching his chest with her hand, leaving his belt alone. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have done that if I knew… sometimes I have dates with vets.”
How the fuck did she know that about him? His left arm was completely covered. He hadn’t used it around her yet. Could she be HYDRA?
“Afghanistan?” she asked, and Bucky nodded vaguely.
He tried to breathe steadily and waited for the panic to dissipate, Dee’s hand rubbing his chest over the fabric of his shirt.
“I wish they’d looked after you better, I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Bucky pulled away from her then, staring at her. “They?”
She tensed, and he realized his mistake – she thought he was about to hurt her for asking too many personal questions.
“I meant the government,” she said. She looked over at her bag for a second.
Bucky put his face in his hands, foregoing any sense of dignity, his knee jiggling. He spoke in a muffled mutter:
“It’s just… me rememberin’…”
“I’m sorry,” she said again, but Bucky knew she was apologizing for his situation, showing him compassion. She didn’t sound too frightened.
He took his hands away, letting his gaze swing to hers.
“I lost my arm,” he said, and she nodded, understanding. “Fucked up stuff happened.”
He went quiet for a full minute, watching the TV. The smiling people were jarring to him. He was reminded all the time of the universe’s indifference to him. He sighed, feeling tired. The emotions of the day had finally caught up with him.
“My dick don’t work too good anymore.”
He would have gone a deeper red if it was possible, staring straight ahead. Dee’s hands rubbed his arm, before he felt her fingers glide through his still damp hair.
He closed his eyes, the sensation so welcome that a little sound escaped the back of his throat. His eyelids felt heavy and he sighed again, taking a deep breath.
“Sweetheart,” she murmured.
He felt sleepy, opening his eyes to glance at her, and she gave a little smile.
“You deserve it. Feeling good,” she said, and it just about broke his heart. She sounded so sincere. “Does that feel good?”
He nodded. She shifted closer, lips grazing his neck, and he shivered. She moved up to the side of his face.
He nodded again, and he reached for her, allowing himself to feel her, his hand on her thigh. She petted him for a little while, kissing his face. She turned his head toward hers and she kissed him on the mouth, and he moaned, unable to control himself when her tongue nudged his mouth open, slipping between his lips.
“Can I touch you?” she whispered, and he pulled back, glancing down at his crotch, Dee’s eyes following. She reached for his belt and it was better watching her do it slowly, cautiously.
He didn’t know if he’d even get hard. He pictured her trying to get his soft cock to respond, the thing lying there, useless and sad. He took deep breaths as her fingers unbuckled the belt and popped the top button of his fly. The rasp of the zipper made him wince.
“Okay?” she whispered, and he nodded.
She reached into his boxers and Bucky gasped, raw and broken. He felt her – her fingers wrapping around his shaft. It was part of his body again, this thing between his legs. He felt a tingling, Dee’s eyes on him, her hand starting to move up and down.
As he predicted, his cock wasn’t working. It stayed soft in her hand as she pumped him, and Bucky tried to not read her face. Her face wasn’t neutral per se, her lips quirking as she massaged him.
“Handsome guy with this?” she murmured. “Lucky 13, I think…”
Bucky let out something like a laugh, the sound surprising him. She met his gaze, smiling.
“Very handsome,” she amended. She looked him up and down. “Sexy.”
He looked at her full lips and the way her eyes flashed, flirty and assuring. He let out a huff of a breath, feeling a warm rush through him – unadulterated desire, and he licked his lips, moving to kiss her mouth again.
It was sloppier than before and rushed, his skin tingling again when they broke apart, Dee’s hand rubbing his cock. He was still soft, but he didn’t mind so much. Kissing her felt really, really good. He squeezed her thigh, as gentle as possible, and she smiled at him.
The gap between her teeth – how had he not noticed that before? She was so cute…
She kissed his face, his jawline and further done to his neck. Bucky watched as she moved down to his chest, her nose brushing his shirt. She shifted off the bed, sitting on her knees…
“Is this okay?” she said, and her face was right next to his cock.
She waited and he nodded, transfixed, seeing her mouth that close to him. She stopped stroking him, making a cupping motion to move the soft skin and Bucky’s eyes shut, feeling the swipe of her tongue.
“God,” he gasped, and he opened his eyes, jaw clenching at the sight of Dee sucking his cock into her mouth.
There was that rush again, except he felt it intensifying around his crotch, and she let out a little sound, pulling back with an obscene popping sound.
“Lift off!” she whispered, and Bucky couldn’t believe it – he was fattening in her hand, his balls tightening. She smiled up at him. “That’s so good.”
He didn’t know what to say, except when she sucked him back into her mouth he moaned, his heels digging into the floor, his hands balling into fists.
As he grew, she sucked and licked at him, humming her approval. Soon enough she was drawing back with a contented sigh, strings of saliva falling from her mouth, sticking to his cock. She licked her lips, wiping her mouth, pumping him. Bucky could feel each new wave of arousal roll over him, his hips starting to rock, sounds ebbing from his mouth.
He didn’t think it would take much more, and he had no idea what would happen if he came. He couldn’t remember the last time it occurred. Sometime early on months ago when he was first in D.C., but it was shameful then, unlike now. Dee was watching her own hand play with him like she wanted to, like she couldn’t bear to look away.
“Dee,” he moaned again, trying to warn her.
She took him to the back of her throat, her muscles constricting around him, all tight and wet. Bucky tensed all over, sweat breaking out on his forehead. His eyelids fluttered and his hand came down to touch her, trying to get her to slow down, or stop…
She pulled off, panting. “It’s okay, it’s okay…”
He thought he might burst into tears, it felt so fucking good. His breathing picked up speed and he felt the white bolt of pleasure run through him, and he lost vision.
He thought it might never stop, the feeling of weightlessness, her hand still on him, and he whimpered. There were tears in his eyes as he came crashing down, letting himself fall back onto the bed.
He panted, the room coming back to him, the smell of his musk in the air, the TV playing in the background. He heard Dee get up and grab some Kleenex from her handbag, before ducking into the bathroom to wash her hands. He didn’t open his eyes, blindly tucking himself back in his boxers, but after a few seconds he was useless, collapsing completely.
He felt a weight of his chest and he squinted, seeing nothing there. It was his own exhaustion, pressing him down into the mattress. Even his racing pulse felt too heavy. He imagined falling through the floor into the dark.
He felt the bed dip and he blinked, feeling her beside him, something around his hairline. She was touching him again.
“You leavin’?” he mumbled.
The reality of that set in, that she was going, and he’d be alone again. He groaned softly as he lifted himself to rest on his elbows, Dee’s hand still touching his hair. She was looking down at him with a little smile on her face. He sat up, swinging his legs over the bed and moving toward the towel he used earlier, his hoodie in a little bundle beside it. He fished out the rest of his money.
“I… I don’t know how much I have,” he began, and Dee’s expression changed, her eyebrows knitted together. “Count it. I, uh… you should have it.”
She shuffled closer, taking it from him. She expertly unfolded them and counted in rapid succession, not pausing to think.
“There’s eight hundred dollars here. Eight hundred and twenty-three.”
“Take eight hundred,” Bucky said, and Dee’s eyebrows hiked.
“James, you can’t live off of twenty-three dollars. Trust me, I’ve been there,” she said. There was color in her cheeks. She was the flustered one now, pressing the wad into Bucky’s hand, trying to make him take it back.
“How much for you to stay the night?” he said, and Dee blinked, the words taking a moment to sink in.
“Uh… five hundred, I guess,” she murmured.
He counted out five hundred and handed it to her, curling her fingers around the stack.
“Please take it,” he said, and she stared down at the notes, perplexed.
“Why did…” She pressed her lips together, her sentence trailing off. She let out a breath, shaking her head. Whatever thought she had, she stored it away, picking up her handbag to put the money away.
She drew up her legs, crossing them and leaning forward. Bucky glanced down at the rest of his money.
“You had dinner? You hungry?” he asked.
He hadn’t said this much in months. The more he spoke, the more he noticed the sound of the voice that came out of him. It was still alien to him, someone else’s voice, speaking a different language. When Dee shook her head, she looked younger.
“No. I’m starving.”
Bucky gave a single nod, getting up to put his shoes on. He tugged the hoodie on, pulling the hood down and scrubbed his face. He could feel her watching him. He moved toward the front door, glancing at her.
“What do you like?” he asked, his voice small.
“Whatever you like,” she replied.
He held her gaze for several seconds, hoping she knew she didn’t have to say that. She was off the clock. She ducked her gaze, sighing.
“Don’t get me anything low-fat,” she murmured.
He left her to find the vending machines. He went a little over the top, grabbing several snacks and two drinks. He made his way back to the room, finding her still watching the talk show. She sat up a little straighter, her eyes widening.
He felt like a cat dropping a dead bird at his owner’s feet. He watched her for a reaction. She picked a little chocolate cake with white icing on it, opening it and taking a bite.
“I love Little Debbie.”
That was a relief. He settled down beside her as she ate, the two of them silent, watching the TV. At one point, she leaned toward him, resting her head on his shoulder. When the show was over, she got up, flipping the channel over to a movie. Bucky hadn’t seen it before, but he got the impression Dee had. She chuckled under her breath, murmuring bits of dialogue. He kept glancing at her, distracted. At one point, she caught him staring.
She was so beautiful. It made his chest ache. He could go on the rest of his shitty life never seeing something as beautiful as Dee ever again. His eyes prickled.
He sniffed, blinking. “Yeah. Tired.”
Instead of prying, Dee shoved the rest of the food away, brushing crumbs off of her lap, getting up to turn off the TV as Bucky lay back, staring at the ceiling. She crawled up next to him, looking down at him as she leaned on her elbow, her chin in her hand.
“Didn’t think a guy like you would need to pay,” she whispered, and Bucky turned his gaze to hers.
He’d never forget her eyes. Big and blue and endless. He didn’t know what to say to her. Any explanation he gave her was probably a lie. He didn’t like lying, even though he had to do it to survive now.
“My name isn’t James,” he replied, and she nodded.
“It’s fine… you don’t have to tell me,” she whispered.
Bucky’s throat felt tight. “I mean, I guess it was my name before… but… I can’t go back.”
Maybe it was a trick of the light, or his mind seeing what he wanted to see, but her eyes looked glassy for a moment and she blinked, reaching out to stroke his cheek.
“You can always go back,” she whispered.
“I can’t,” he replied, a little pained smile spreading on his face.
He wished he could tell her everything. It was too much. He could be putting her in danger, if he hadn’t already. He lifted a hand to touch her, his gloved one, brushing the hair out of her face. Her lips parted and she moved to kiss him, tender and soft.
Dee pulled back, pressing her face into the sheets and groaning. That confused him, and she lifted her head again.
“You’re making this harder for me,” she whispered, and he felt his lips quirk, imitating her smile. “You’re so hot. And sweet. What the fuck…”
She kissed him again, shorter.
“Hooker with a heart of gold,” she muttered to herself. “Jesus. What a fucking cliché...”
She made it so easy to like her, with her filthy mouth and sweet smiles, her scent all around him, the warm of her body pressing into his. He wrapped an arm around her waist, wanting to feel her more, hoping he remembered this well enough the next time he was alone.
She kissed him again and again, her breath hitching when he reached the skin under her shirt, tracing the muscles on her back, the curve of her breast. At one point, she pulled her lips away, to rest her head between his neck and shoulder, his arms around her.
“Go to sleep… You need it, I can tell…”
He drifted off, sure he was smiling like a fool in the dark, her hands in his hair.
He startled awake, tensing, gripping the sheet as the light seeped through his consciousness. He glanced to his left, seeing two bare thighs, Dee’s ankles crossed. His eyes snapped up to see her sitting with a can of Coke to her lips, looking down at him, her eyes creasing at the sides.
“Hey,” she breathed.
He blinked at her, remembering last night. He hadn’t dreamed it. He turned to his side, feeling different, rubbing his face. He hadn’t slept like that before. He could see the soft glow of dawn coming out from under the curtains.
“Full disclosure,” Dee said, putting her Coke aside, licking her lips. “I tend to ghost the guys I stay the night for.”
She lifted one brow and Bucky allowed himself to smile at her, tentative.
“I guess I decided to be an honest woman for once,” she said, and he felt his heartbeat pick up, because she turned toward him, hands wrapping around his neck.
Bucky felt something and he sucked in a breath, realizing. He woke up with a hard-on, the tent in his jeans obvious, pressing into Dee’s stomach.
He meant to apologize but she pushed him in the chest, and he rolled onto his back, letting her dictate everything, including the kiss she gave him. She unbuckled his belt, pulling down his fly, her hand pressing into the hard length of him, making him moan.
“Let me,” she whispered, and he nodded, his chest heaving.
She moved back, grabbing something from her bag, a little foil square. He felt himself flush, seeing the condom in her hand, and she ripped it open, the little ring inside smelling of latex. Bucky watched her pause to pull off her shirt, throwing it aside. Her tits nearly spilled out of her bra cups, and Bucky stared, licking his lips.
A soft laugh escaped her and she tugged his flesh hand to rest against her breast, pushing it down. He gave a little squeeze, wanting more. She seemed to read his face, chuckling again, her hands going to the strap on her back, unclasping it and pulling her bra off. Her nipples were like magnets to Bucky’s hands, and he cupped her skin, remembering something like this happening before.
But Dee seemed incomparable. She was more than two handfuls, so soft and warm. Her lips parted when he teased a nipple, watching her face. He surged forward to kiss her, nuzzling her neck and shoulder, pulling her into his lap. He shoved down his jeans to his thighs, Dee’s hand still holding the rubber, her other hand in his hair.
He started to tremble when she pulled down her underwear, rolling the condom on. She climbed back up, sitting in his lap, rubbing herself against him. He moaned, his fingers biting into her hips. He could make out the hair between her legs. He could smell her musk mingling with his. She shifted, her eyes glued to his, hands pressed to his chest.
They both gasped when he sunk into her, Dee taking him inch by inch, slow and tight. She took him to the hilt, a little sigh escaping her. She moved up a little, rocking her hips. Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes or mouth closed, not wanting to miss anything. She was so close her two eyes became one, her lips pressing to his.
She moved slow and deliberate, her little tight body all around him, making him feel light-headed, completely lost. She pulled his lower lip between her teeth, sucking on it, and he moaned louder, drawing his knees up until Dee’s ass brushed his thighs. He moved on instinct, rocking his hips, bucking into her as she pushed.
She gasped, catching him in another kiss. They kept going, kissing each other’s faces, Bucky’s teeth grazing her skin as he rocked into her, tongues tangling, and he felt it – she was wet, moaning in his ear. He took one hand and slid it down between them, remembering a girl whose name he’d lost, a girl from a lifetime ago…
“Dee, show me,” he whispered, and she looked down, before guiding him to the spot right beside her swollen bud, pressing down.
“There,” she whispered, and her eyes flew closed. She gave a happy sigh, then moaned again.
He watched her face, the way she seemed to fight with the feeling, the pleasure washing over her, and she tensed, squeezing him, panting. Bucky could feel it, too, the tightness, the need to release…
“Fuck,” he gasped, and he bucked into her, harder, and Dee’s eyes widened. “God…”
He came, shoving up into her, his grip tight on her hip, his finger still pressing down. His head fell back, hips stalling, ending it with a broken moan, feeling like every pore had opened up.
Dee leaned forward, kissing his face, moving off. Bucky felt a tug and glanced down, seeing her take off the condom and tie it off, walking away toward the bathroom.
He lifted his neck to watch her bare ass and he blinked, allowing himself to notice the satisfaction, the pleasure he’d had. He heard her flush the toilet and she was back, naked and covered in little pink marks, her fair skin flushed, her hands attempting the comb her hair with her fingers.
She caught him staring, dropping her hands, her breasts jiggling from the movement. She walked over, pulling her clothes out and tugging them back on. Bucky pushed down the blanket, pulling up his jeans and tucking everything back in place. Dee sat down on his side, Bucky’s hand finding hers.
“Did you…?” he began, and Dee blinked at him.
“Did I come?” she asked, and he nodded. “Yeah… You thought that was fake?”
He blinked at her, unsure of what to say. Dee turned her head, snorting.
“Well, that’s fair,” she whispered. “I wasn’t faking that.”
She moved down to kiss him and he sighed into it. Her hands cradled his face and he felt his chest tighten. She was so affectionate, and even though he paid her, he knew he’d wished he’d stayed longer.
“I have to go,” he whispered, and she nodded, knowing.
They separated, and Bucky got up to pee and pull on his shoes. He went to his hoodie pocket and tried again to give her more money, but Dee shook her head.
“Wherever you’re headed, you’ll need it,” she said.
“And you won’t?” he retorted, not sounding like himself.
Her eyebrow rose at his attitude. “I’ll manage.”
The thought of her doing this again with something else made him sad, and he looked away, clearing his throat.
“I can drive you,” she said, and he glanced at her, seeing she was serious.
“You don’t have to,” he said.
“I want to,” she replied instantly, and he believed her. He watched her pick up her bag and look around, checking if she forgot anything. “So let’s go.”
He followed her out. He felt the dread seep in the second he shut the door behind him, the key heavy in his hand. He took it back to the reception, pushing it through the mail slot.
Dee waited for him and they fell into step together, Bucky’s guts twisting. He had to go back to looking behind all the time, searching for threats. They reached her car and she unlocked it, slipping into the driver’s seat. Bucky slipped in beside her, glancing around. The backseat was covered in papers and black garbage bags full of stuff. She didn’t seem to be living anywhere permanent, either.
“You sleep in here?”
The question slipped out before he could stop himself. The thought of her fending for herself made him anxious, and he wished he could fix that somehow, her being vulnerable.
“Yeah,” she replied, turning the engine on with some difficulty. She didn’t seem bothered by his invasiveness, only frustrated with her vehicle. “Piece of shit...”
She gave a short sigh.
“I’m… in between jobs right now,” she added. She met his gaze. “I guess no-one really aspires to sex work. It’s hard to make ends meet…”
“You don’t have to –” Bucky cut in, feeling his cheeks flush. “I get it. I… don’t have anywhere to go.”
Dee turned off the engine, moving her body toward him, reaching out to touch his knee.
“I can drive you to a shelter. They could help.”
“No,” Bucky rasped, looking down at her little hand, missing the bed already, missing her naked and warm against him so much his eyes stung. “It’s okay. I’m gonna buy a bus ticket and get outta here. Can’t stay.”
“Right,” Dee breathed. “Okay.”
She started the car again and nodded at his seat belt. He kept forgetting about those. The last car he stole kept beeping until he noticed the little red light flashing SEATBELT next to the rear view mirror.
He pulled it on, glancing around. It was still so early that he was certain they were the only ones up. Dee reversed and took off down the street.
The main street of town was several minutes away. She put on the radio, some tune Bucky didn’t recognize bursting through, tinny and irritating. She dialled the volume down, reading his face. The silence between them felt heavy.
They reached the bus station at the edge of town, an early morning jogger passing them as Dee pulled up at the curb.
“Okay,” she said, signalling him to leave.
Bucky nodded, moving his hand to release the seat belt, grabbing the door handle.
He froze, turning his head. Dee’s eyes were a little wider, her face changed. She came back to life, turning to reach behind her, grabbing a piece of scrap paper. She took a pen out from the glove box in front of him.
“If I give you a number, can you call it?” she asked, and Bucky blinked at her. “I want to know you’re okay.”
He loved her then. She didn’t know him at all and he loved her. He blinked, ducking his gaze.
“I… don’t have a phone.”
“Then…” she uncapped the pen, scrawling something down, pushing it toward him. “My mom’s address. Send a postcard, let me know. She’ll call me eventually. Actually…”
She took it back.
“Pay phones still exist, so…”
She didn’t understand how ironic that was, her mentioning something antiquated to her that was a natural occurrence to him. She added her phone number, passing it back.
“Okay,” he murmured. He felt himself smile before he could restrain himself. He looked down at the paper. She’d written a name.
“Darcy,” she said. “My name’s Darcy.”
Before he could say anything more, she tugged him by his grubby hoodie, catching him in a kiss. He grunted, his hand coming up to touch her face. She didn’t let him go for several seconds, only separating to press her forehead to his.
“I’ll miss you,” she whispered, the admission hushed, and she sniffled. “I know it’s stupid…”
“It’s not,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, holding her to him. “It’s not, it’s not…”
Her voice wobbled. “Please take care of yourself…. Please…”
He couldn’t promise her that. He knew there was a very real possibility he could let her down. He kissed her face, trying to remember her behind his closed eyes, hoping she’d do the same…
Darcy pulled back, searching his face. She kissed his lips. She kept going in for more, in between her words.
“Write me… please…”
He didn’t want to let her go, but he had to. The longer he stayed, the worse it would get. He pulled back, his hand on the door handle again. It hurt, pulling away from her. He opened the door, stepping out. He walked to the curb, taking a deep breath before turning around, trying his best to keep still, to watch her leave.
He lifted his left hand, and Darcy copied him. There was a beat and he lowered his hand, adjusting the strap of his backpack. She turned her attention to the road.
Darcy turned her head, her eyes wide, and Bucky moved toward her door, her window lowering. He felt his heart in his throat but he kissed her.
“I’ll miss you.”
She gave a wet laugh, and he kissed her nose, pulling away. A moment later she took off, and Bucky glanced over at the bus station, the stores that were opening on the street.
Several hours later at a truck stop over the state line, Bucky bought a postcard. He didn’t think, just wrote the first thing that came into his head.
You made me remember it won’t always be this way.
He paused, before taking the next plunge.
My name is Bucky.
Chapter 9: Steve/Darcy - Lingerie
If you're not a fan of Dom Darcy and Sub Steve and would prefer the roles reversed, check out chapter 5 of this fic.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“You sick fuck.”
Darcy was watching Steve as she said this. She had a bird’s eye view of him from the tall windows of the labs, holding a cup of coffee during a rare moment of solitude. Jane was out with Bruce while Darcy was left to log data.
Steve Rogers was standing alone with his hands on his hips, the afternoon sun beating down on his six-foot frame, bending at the waist. Moments before, whatever illusions she may have had of Steve Rogers would have been shattered. She watched him take a deep breath through his nose, before tilting his head back and spitting on the ground.
Darcy heard about his fractured cheekbone through the grapevine, with his sinuses full of blood. It explained the disgusting loogies he spat on the pavement.
Darcy smiled. She finished her coffee, giving the labs a glance, thinking about what else she needed to do that day. It could wait. She put down her mug and walked out of the labs, through the hallway and down the steps, before pushing a glass door to exit the building. She almost walked straight into Steve, which she planned all along.
“Sorry,” he said, and then he paused, taking her in. His brows lifted.
Darcy hadn’t seen it up close before, the boyish face, the blue eyes and sharp jawline. She guessed it was his left cheekbone that fractured during the mission yesterday. There was a distinct mauve mark beneath his eye, and a cut on his lower lip. Darcy glanced down at his hands, seeing his knuckles were split.
“It’s Darcy, right?”
“Yeah,” she said, folding her arms. “I have a feeling you work here.”
She was rewarded with a smirk, his head tilting.
“Something like that.”
“So you might be trespassing,” she threw back.
He broke into a smile. Darcy moved past him, walking right past the bloody mess on the ground, turning her head for a second to see he was watching her. She turned away, heading back to her apartment.
“What do you know about Steve Rogers?”
Jane screwed up her face, sipping her glass of chardonnay while Darcy cut herself another bit of cheese to put on her cracker, shoving it into her mouth while her boss contemplated her question.
“You didn’t study the Howling Commandos in middle school?” Jane retorted.
Darcy shot her a look. “I mean post-ice, nowadays. Thor ever say much about him? They’re friends, right?”
“What’s your point, did you finally see his ass or something?” Jane muttered, her voice muffled with her glass. “He’s not your type.”
Darcy waited for her to say that, and she began to giggle, her mouth full of cheese.
“What’s so funny?”
“He’s… a weirdo.”
“What? Oh, no…. what did you do?” Jane groaned. “Actually – forget I asked. I’m not drunk enough to hear whatever pseudo-sexual mind games you’re up to. Just keep it out of the labs.”
Darcy drummed her fingers on the table, giggling.
Darcy sat next to Sam Wilson while Steve ran in the distance.
She was not the type to be up this early, her sunglasses blocking out the morning sun because it was way too harsh for her liking, since she hadn’t had coffee yet.
She put off coffee to be there. It was a big deal.
“Does he… like this stuff?” Darcy asked, and Sam chuckled.
“He heals fast. Being enhanced, he does double the shit the rest of us does. Wipes the floors with every one of us.”
“Except maybe Thor,” Darcy cut in, because she wasn’t going to let her favourite Avenger be forgotten, even though he wasn’t on Earth those days.
“Thor’s a god.”
“Don’t hold that against him,” she retorted, and Sam chuckled again.
Steve came to a stop in front of them, a sheen on sweat on his face.
“Hey,” he said to Darcy and she lowered her glasses a fraction, smiling.
He dashed off again, and Darcy felt Sam’s eyes on her.
“You… waiting for him to take a hint, or -?”
“I get the feeling he wants me to take the reins…”
Sam shook his head. “He is the most stubborn ass I’ve ever met.”
Darcy scoffed. “Please.”
They fell silent for a few moments, watching Steve racing around the field in the distance. Darcy pushed her glasses up onto her head, narrowing her eyes at Sam.
“Does he have stronger bones, like, a higher level of resistance?”
“No, he pops his shoulder all the time,” Sam said, sounding irritated. “It’s annoying. He jumps out of airplanes, shatters kneecaps, his cheekbone last week –”
“He feels pain the same way?”
Sam frowned. “Yeah. Why?”
She didn’t care what assessment he made of her. It didn’t take long for people to figure out she was strange. Asking questions about Steve’s pain threshold would raise some eyebrows, but she hoped it got back to him.
Darcy got up from her seat.
“See you ‘round.”
“Okay,” Sam replied, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
“You again,” she said, folding her arms.
Steve was coming from the kitchen, his face changing when he recognized her.
“You’re definitely on the payroll, right?” she said, pointing, narrowing her eyes. “Because I think it’d be a little awkward if you were just hanging around –”
“You wanna get a cup of coffee?”
Darcy snapped her mouth shut, her face flushing. She averted her eyes. She spoke to the ground.
“Tomorrow, I’ll come get you from the labs?” he said, and he moved closer, towering over her.
Darcy went still, holding his gaze. He looked at her mouth and then her eyes.
“Unless you wanna hang around when I run tomorrow, askin’ questions?”
Goddamn it, knowing Sam ratted on her made Darcy’s blush deepen.
“What about both?” she retorted, petulant.
He smirked, saying nothing.
“I mean, unless you got a problem with that,” she snapped.
Oh, that did something to her. Darcy mirrored his smirk, folding her arms again.
She liked looking after him. She knew it had something to do with her wanted to help fix broken things. She liked putting others’ needs above her own. She knew Steve was the same, to a fault.
Sam’s ‘stubborn ass’ comment was a fucking understatement.
Their first kiss was when he came back to the compound with three broken fingers, beaming at her. It started to nag her, the suspicion she had about him, that he liked the pain.
She tested the hypothesis when she bit his lip, Steve’s grip tightening on her waist, the soft groan escaping at the back of his throat.
He hissed, pulling back a second later, pupils dilated. He liked the hurt, a lot, and he showed her all his boo-boos.
Darcy started researching on the web. No judgment, only the urge to explore it. Steve was a freak, just like her. She didn’t want to do this the wrong way.
“It’s me,” she called, after she knocked twice on his door.
She adjusted her coat, waiting only ten or so seconds before Steve opened the door, his brows lifting at the sight of her.
He stepped aside, and Darcy walked in, her heart beating faster. She was nervous, not because she didn’t think he’d appreciate all this. She knew she might be too self-conscious to fully commit. It was a steep learning curve.
She wasn’t used to the heels yet, despite walking around her apartment in them for the last couple nights, stretching them in a pair of thick socks. Darcy walked slowly into the living room, glancing at Steve as he came up behind her.
“Take my coat,” she said, and he reached for her lapels, pulling the material away.
The cool air hit her exposed skin as Steve unwrapped her, revealing her maroon teddy with matching high-waisted mesh underwear and garter belt. Her fishnet stockings and patent high heels completed the look. Darcy assumed a no-nonsense expression, her hands on her hips.
Steve moved toward her, his eyes roving her, the color rising in his cheeks. There was a hint of a smile on his face and he lifted a hand, but Darcy stepped back.
“Yes, what?” Darcy hissed.
“Good. Let’s go to the bedroom.”
She walked ahead of him, trying to remain composed. She appreciated Steve buying her the outfit, but she was going to have to find a different pair of shoes. As she walked, she managed to not topple over, walking into Steve’s bedroom and pointing to the floor.
She clicked her fingers. “Kneel.”
Steve sunk to the floor, eyes bright.
That was the easy part, making him follow her orders. Darcy following through on the rest was the more complicated part. She knew she got a kick out of this, she just hadn’t done it with a work friend before.
Well, they were more than friends, but the work part stuck out. Darcy knew he’d never gossip about their little scenes.
“You look good on your knees, Steve,” she said, reaching out to touch his hair, run a finger over a fresh cut on his face.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Darcy smiled, a genuine one that broke character, but then she moved her hand away a second later, gasping when Steve turned his head to kiss her palm.
“I said, no touching. How dare you –”
She prodded his chest with a finger.
“Since you’re already on your knees, you can make yourself useful…”
Darcy moved back toward the bed, sitting down, spreading her legs. Steve’s eyes fell between her thighs, his tongue darting out to wet his lips on reflex.
“Steve. You cannot touch with your hands.”
“But I want to,” he murmured. “Please, ma’am?”
“No,” Darcy hissed. “You use your mouth. Nothing else.”
Steve moved toward her, Darcy’s hand going down her front to push her underwear aside, exposing her cunt. Steve sucked in a breath. Darcy felt a flare of inspiration, somewhere among her nervous anticipation.
“Does it look good, Steve?”
“Yes,” he breathed, moving his face toward her, kneeling in front of her spread thighs.
Darcy drew her legs up to rest the back of her knees on his broad shoulders. Steve licked his lips.
“Tell me more,” she prompted, pressing her heel down into his back.
“I want it, please, ma’am…”
Darcy smiled, biting her lip. “Okay. Since you’ve been so sweet…”
Steve lunged, and Darcy hissed, his tongue running up the folds of her cunt. She shivered when he began to suckle her clit, his moaning muffled.
“Make me come.”
Darcy’s breath hitched, his mouth working her over greedily. She saw him shift beneath her and she pressed her foot down again.
“No touching your cock. Not until I say you can.”
Steve made a pained sound, moving back, and it was obscene – the image of his wet mouth, his pink face.
“If I make you come, can I -?”
“You’re not fucking me, you’re fucking your fist,” Darcy snapped, and he nodded, sheepish.
He moved back to lick her again, and Darcy moaned. He ate pussy with such gusto, and he didn’t disappoint her now. Darcy needed a finger, so she pushed his face off roughly with a hand, his eyes meeting hers.
“Two fingers. And suck my clit.”
Darcy rolled her hips, shuddering as he stuffed her, his tongue working in time to his thrusting fingers.
“Make me come… make me come…”
Darcy could feel it, the building, her hips rocking to meet his mouth and fingers. She squeezed her eyes shut, clamping down on him, crying out.
Steve groaned, lapping at her, licking it all away, pulling out of her to sit back on his knees as Darcy panted, sweat on her brow.
She bit her lip, seeing his erection tenting his sweatpants.
“Take it out.”
Steve moved fast, his hand down his front, tugging on himself.
“I said, out. So I can see.”
He moaned, biting his lip. His hand moved hard and fast, the sound of his skin rubbing making Darcy blush, a smirk forming on her face.
“You’re thinking about filling me up with that, Steve?”
“Yes, Darcy,” he breathed. “I want you…”
“No,” she said, and it killed her a little, saying no to Steve’s big dick shoved deep inside her. She lifted a foot, pressing it to his forehead. “You stay down and come on the fucking floor.”
That’d be fun, watching him clean it up later. She pressed hard enough to leave a mark on his skin that faded away an instant later, and he screwed up his face, still touching himself.
“Please, ma’am –”
“Come for me,” Darcy commanded instantly, the words on the tip of her tongue.
“Oh, fuck –”
She saw the tendons stand out on his neck as he went still, and a second later he groaned, cords of come falling on the carpet, his hand still jerking until he had nothing left.
Darcy pulled him into a kiss and he whimpered, shivering. She pulled back, only to nip at his lower lip, his eyes flashing. They grinned at one another.
“You sick fuck.”
The gross bloody loogies thing is inspired by a Steve-O story told on Hot Ones. As in, Steve-O from Jackass fame. Anyway...
Chapter 10: Darcy/Bucky - Hair-pulling
sarahbeniel gave me the story, then I wrote it. This is was sweeter than the last Darcy/Bucky story, so expect fluff coming out the wazoo...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“Yeah, alright… go,” Jane called, waving her hand without looking up from her paper.
Darcy flashed her a grateful smile anyway, grabbing her bag from under her desk before turning off her monitor.
“I don’t want to hear about it!” Jane added, finger raised, and Darcy began to laugh.
Poor Jane. She’d been stuck with Darcy being a ball of anticipation for the last few days and it was finally over. Darcy wasn’t going to draw it out any longer, though she was enjoying Jane’s irritation. She had a guy to see.
She dashed out of the labs with her bag, nearly knocking into a couple interns along the way. She peeled off down the hallway and burst into the yard, half-running toward the quinjet she could make out in the distance.
She got close enough to see people disembarking, and she stopped still when the familiar figures of Steve, Sam and Bucky appeared.
Her heart was racing, and she stared as Sam and Steve saw her first, while Bucky glanced in the other direction, distracted. Sam nudged Bucky and his head swung the other way, and he burst into a smile that Darcy wish she could bottle for the days when he was away again.
She grinned, and she took off, running as Bucky moved toward her, the last several feet she laughed, dropping her bag. He caught her, picking her up, holding her above his head as he spun her around. She landed on the ground, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him into a kiss, gasping when she felt his lips crash into hers.
“Fuck…” she whispered. She knew it was going to be intense, but as always her imagination had never done the feelings justice.
Bucky’s grip on her waist never faltered, kissing her again and again, until Sam called out:
“Y’all are cute! And you’re disgusting!”
Darcy broke away, Bucky’s mouth pressing to her forehead, wrapping his arms around her so he cuddled her closer. Darcy felt the heat in her cheeks, and she glanced up at Bucky, seeing the look on his face.
“I missed you,” he whispered, and Darcy bit her lip, her eyes stinging. Bucky’s face changed. “Are you cryin’? Don’t cry…”
“No, it’s just something in my eye,” she muttered. She sniffed, wiping her eyes.
She glanced at Sam and Steve, before taking Bucky’s hand in hers, tugging him away. She picked up her bag and lifted a hand to wave at the guys.
“Let Steve get your stuff,” she said, before Bucky could say anything. “He’s a romantic, right? He knows.”
Bucky let out a breath of a laugh. “I’m really ripe, baby. Haven’t showered in –”
Darcy pretended to pinch her nose and he pulled her closer, kissing her forehead, wrapping an arm around her middle.
“Then we need to get you out of these clothes, huh?” Darcy finished, and Bucky’s wolfish smile had her stomach flipping, her blush deepening.
They were giggling all the way back to Darcy’s place, Bucky always touching her, his hand on her shoulder or back, waist or hip. They catching glances at one another, and she was giddy with the good feelings.
When they went inside, the door kicked shut by Bucky’s boot, he snatched Darcy up again, lifting her and pressing her into the wall. Darcy’s thighs hugged his hips, their mouths meeting in a hasty kiss.
Darcy moaned, closing her eyes, Bucky’s tongue slipping into her mouth. She felt the rush to her core, craving his skin, drinking from him. Her fingers went to his hair, Bucky’s locks coming loose from the tie at the base of his skull. Bucky made a grunt when Darcy’s fingers hit a knot.
Several knots, actually. It made Darcy pull her mouth away, awkwardly yanking her fingers back. Bucky let out a hiss.
“You need to cut your hair.”
“I know, I know,” he murmured, and he kissed her face, touching his mane, patting it. “It’s drivin’ me nuts…”
He put Darcy back down. Darcy tugged him by the front of his shirt, down the hallway. He followed her into the bathroom, peeling off his shirt and tossing it on the floor. Darcy knelt to help untie his boot laces, her eyes darting to the muck he’d left on the tiles.
“Jesus, you weren’t kidding about ripe,” she murmured.
She glanced up at his bare skin, seeing his Adonis belt speckled with dirt and other debris. There was more crud on the tiles when they finally got his boots off, and Darcy turned to run a bath. She grabbed the box of Epsom salts from the cabinet while Bucky unbuckled his belt. The sound peaked her interest and she glanced at him, waggling her eyebrows, giggling.
“You waitin’ for me to put on a show?” he murmured.
Darcy thought about waiting for him to strip for her, but instead she got up stand next to him. All joking was pushed aside and she could see he was a tired. Happy, but tired.
“I love you,” she said, taking his cybernetic hand between her two, and Bucky’s jaw tensed.
“Love you, too,” he replied, and he tilted his head to kiss her, sighing.
He kept going back for more, Darcy ducking away when the water was approaching too high. She switched off the faucet, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Bucky pull down his pants with his underwear. It was the quiet moments when he trusted her enough to bare all to her that Darcy treasured most. She liked the kissing reunions with an audience, but this respite in the bathroom made her heart fit to burst.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered, and she nodded, swallowing.
She glanced away, and then felt his hand on her shoulder and she touched it, rubbing. She knew he didn’t mind the tears. It was more that he didn’t ever like being the source of the overwhelming emotions.
“I’m happy,” she whispered. She was happy, and so relieved he was home safe again.
Bucky lowered himself into the tub, Darcy watching him melt instantly, groaning softly.
“Fuck, yeah,” he whispered, and Darcy began to laugh. She got a wash cloth from the cabinet and passed it to him. Bucky dunked it in the water, scrubbing himself with it.
Darcy paused at the doorway, tapping on the frame with a finger.
“You want me to stay?” she asked, and Bucky nodded.
She turned away, nodding.
“Be right back…”
She returned a couple minutes later with two beers, and Bucky burst into a smile, taking one from her and putting it to his lips.
Darcy sat on the edge of the tub as Bucky washed, splashing and drinking. At one point, he put his beer aside to go under water, wetting his hair before grabbing the bottle of shampoo Darcy handed him.
With his hair slicked back, he looked younger, the boyish charm, and the irresistible cheekbones.
“If you keep lookin’ at me like that, I’ll pull you in, babe,” he said, sipping his beer.
Darcy’s eyes went straight between his legs, and Bucky chuckled, sitting up a little. For a full minute they only looked at one another, Bucky’s eyes dipping to Darcy’s chest.
“You need help with those knots?” Darcy asked, and Bucky blinked, distracted.
“The knots in your hair, Buck,” she said, lifting a brow.
His eyes lit up, making Darcy smile.
Once Bucky was out of the tub and drying off, Darcy grabbed some of his spare clothes stashed in the bottom drawer in the chest of drawers by her bed. She came back to the bathroom, seeing Bucky rubbing his head roughly with a towel.
“Put these on, nudie,” she murmured, and he pulled her into another kiss.
Darcy felt his hair, the knots worse than ever.
“Bucky, we’re definitely cutting it. At least now you’re back. Look.”
She lifted a piece. “That could turn into a dreadlock.”
Bucky sighed. “Yeah…”
He dressed while Darcy grabbed a special brush from a drawer, and Bucky went out to grab a stool from the kitchen.
Darcy chuckled, and Bucky shrugged.
“It’s for me to sit because you’re too short.”
“Maybe you’re too tall,” she retorted.
She began brushing his hair, feeling it was already drying. It was thinner than hers so it took less time, but it was so soft. She pressed her nose to the space behind his ear and Bucky laughed.
“You sniffin’ me?”
“Yeah,” Darcy admitted, a little bashful. “I like it.”
“What do I smell like?”
“I dunno,” she murmured. “Sweet. Smell like you.”
She kissed the spot, resuming the brushing. She got to the knots and stopped, carefully, picking through them with her fingers. Bucky had gone quiet, but the good silence that meant he was relaxing. Darcy managed to sift through the worst of the knots, his hair loose and flowing to his shoulders.
“Rapunzel,” she whispered, kissing the tip of his ear. Bucky gave a short laugh.
She kept brushing, allowing herself to enjoy the softness, the smell of him everywhere. He felt so warm. Then she heard his breathing change when she pulled the hair a little harder. She had an inkling he enjoyed her grabbing a fistful of him, and sitting in front of her now was no different.
He let out a soft groan when she released his hair, her hand gliding up to scratch behind his ear.
She glanced down, saw the tent in his sweatpants. She bit her lip, scratching him some more, and he gasped a little when she pulled harder, enough for his head to fall back a little.
The sounds she pulled from him when straight to her cunt, and she dropped the brush with a soft clatter on the tiles, and she moved around to stand in front of him, before climbing into his lap.
They were kissing like before outside, the air taunt with want. Darcy scooted back, both of them tugging down Bucky’s sweatpants, his cock springing free. Darcy yanked down her leggings, kicking them off, before Bucky took her by the waist, pulling her back to straddle him.
She shifted her hips, her eyes glued to Bucky’s. He took hold of his cock, pointing it upwards as Darcy lifted up. He sunk into her, his eyes widening.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he gasped. “Fuck, Darcy…”
Darcy gasped, starting to rock. “I missed you, too. I love you so much.”
“I love you,” he whispered, gathering her closer, starting to push up into her, making Darcy’s grip on his scalp tighter. “I love you, I love you…”
He got like this when he was inside her, his words becoming a mess, but he was so adamant. Darcy smiled down at him, kissing him, loving him.
When Darcy came, his thumb was pressed to her clit, his mouth sucking her collar bone. Darcy’s hands were gripping his hair tight enough that he only lasted a few seconds longer, coming with a muffled groan.
Darcy gave a happy sigh, smiling down at him.
She pushed his hair back, Bucky smiling back at her with shining eyes.
“You don’t want me to cut this, do you?” she whispered, and he shook his head.
She pulled him into another kiss, whispering:
Chapter 11: Darcy/Bucky - Object Insertion
More fluff! Enjoy. ❤
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
When Darcy woke beside Bucky, it took a few seconds for reality to sink in.
She remembered him coming by last night, and they watched a movie. Darcy went all out, making popcorn and giving him her favourite cushion, throwing a blanket to cover both of them. She sat a polite distance away from him, until he put his arm on the couch behind her head.
Darcy held her breath like she was back in middle school, this male energy all around her, when all Bucky had done was put his arm slightly closer to her, shifting in his seat.
When they met it was the same thing. All he did was say hello and Darcy blushed, turning into this demure little thing. It didn’t help that he looked right at her when he said it, his voice low and rumbling, making her wet.
Darcy glanced over at Bucky lying on his side, facing her, his eyes closed. His mouth was slightly open, and Darcy could hear his soft breathing. He was lying on top of the bed covers, and Darcy recalled them coming in here when the movie ended.
He kissed her. Darcy remembered that distinctly, because she didn’t want to push him, make him do anything he wasn’t comfortable with. Allowing Bucky to dictate the pace made her taut with pent up desire and anticipation. When he kissed her, she moaned, and Bucky sighed, sounding relieved… Darcy blushed thinking of how she’d sounded when he’d barely touched her.
Darcy stared for way too long at his beautiful, sleeping face, deciding she needed to stop before he caught her. She began to slowly, carefully move her blanket off, swinging her legs out to place them on the floor. She moved to stand up, glancing over her shoulder at Bucky, who was still asleep. She took a deep breath, hoping the mattress wouldn’t dip too much when she stood up. She shuffled out the door, ducking into the bathroom.
She peed, washed her face, and brushed her hair. She stared in the mirror, taking deep breaths. When he woke up, she was going to kiss him. She was going to initiate. She wanted to. She just hoped he wasn’t going to run out the second he realized where he was. Her stomach was full of butterflies by the time she went back to her bed, slipping under the covers and facing him again.
He stirred, his eyes snapping open. For a couple seconds he stared at her, not seeing her. Then he blinked, his face changing, slackening in realization.
“Hey,” Darcy whispered. “We fell asleep.”
“Yeah,” he replied. His eyes scanned her. Darcy was sure he could smell the toothpaste she’d just used. “Sorry.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. “What? No. I’m glad. You needed it… to sleep.”
He gave a little smile, and his hand reached for her, tucking hair behind her ear. Darcy felt her heartbeat pick up. She felt as if she was under a microscope. He moved a little closer, and she was reminded of how big he was, with that masculine power. She tried to not resemble a deer in the headlights, but she began to tingle on her face where his hand rested.
Before he could reach her, she moved toward him, pressing a kiss to his lips. She made a sound, opening her mouth to him as he deepened the kiss, and she tugged him closer, until their bodies pressed together. He slipped an arm under her neck, hugging her to him, kissing her face, and Darcy sighed. She pressed her thighs together when he drew back, because he there was intent in his gaze.
“You’re not… leaving?” Darcy whispered, and he shook his head.
He kissed her hard, and Darcy moaned, her hands going to grab his shirt. The push and pull of their tongues left her breathless, her face hot with nerves and arousal. Darcy began to pant, grabbing at his arms, his hair, trying to not make it overtly sexual and failing so badly because of the sounds she was making, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. He groaned, tasting her, tugging her lip, sucking and cuddling her.
“Fuck, Bucky – tell me, tell me what to do…”
“You’re doing it,” he replied, kissing down her neck. “You’re lettin’ me kiss you…”
“Letting you?” she repeated, and she tugged him back up so their eyes were level. “Letting you? Are you serious? I want you to kiss me. I want… you… I want…”
She couldn’t come up with something better to say, her hands gliding up to run through his hair, and his throat bobbed, his eyes dropping to her mouth.
“Can I…?” he began, and Darcy nodded fast, making him laugh softly. “I didn’t even ask you yet.”
Darcy felt her blush deepen. She thought that might convey what she was too shy to say out loud – that she was more than okay with him doing anything to her he wanted.
“It’s been a long time,” he murmured, and Darcy nodded. “And I don’t think I can…”
He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. Darcy touched his face, rubbing her thumb along his cheek bone. He closed his eyes for a second, taking a breath.
“Can I touch you?” she asked, and Bucky blinked, his lips parting.
“Okay, that’s okay,” Darcy added hastily. “We can kiss, or -?”
“I wanna touch you,” he whispered, and Darcy broke into a smile.
He finally smiled, his eyes bright. “Okay, I’m gonna touch you…”
They laughed softly, and Bucky pressed a kiss to her lips, slow at first, until Darcy pushed her tongue between his lips and he moaned into her mouth.
Darcy laughed again, taking the plunge and pushing the blanket aside so Bucky could slip under. He rolled them so Darcy was under and she sighed. She was so excited, and she was sure it showed in the way she smiled up at him, his hair curtaining them. He kissed her so thoroughly that Darcy was whining at the end, missing his mouth, her hips shifting to meet his.
“Please…” she whispered, and he nodded, similarly affected.
“Fuck, Darce… I don’t think I can –” he ducked his head, shaking it, and Darcy hated it. She hated that he was feeling bad about it. “I need time.”
“Could you use your hand? Or maybe… in my drawer…”
Bucky glanced at the bed side drawer that housed her IKEA lamp, before reaching for it, opening the top drawer. She loved that he didn’t hesitate, and he wasn’t intimidated by what he found.
“Which one’s your favorite?” he asked.
He picked up a magenta vibrator, examining it. Darcy tried to keep her face neutral as he rummaged some more. She began to giggle when he found the glass dildo.
“This one?” he said, and the glass tapped against his cybernetic palm as he tossed it, a mischievous glint in his eye. “No, I think…”
He put the glass one back and picked out a light blue vibrator and Darcy winked.
“Bingo,” he murmured, and his face changed again once he shut the drawer, shuffling down to kiss Darcy once more.
“You’re not…” Darcy began, and Bucky met her gaze, frowning. “You’re okay with using that?”
“Why?” Bucky asked.
Darcy made a face. He was genuinely unaware. Darcy knew some men were insecure about using toys in bed. There was a reason why seeing him going through the drawer with curiosity turned her on – he was open and playful about it.
He looked down at the vibrator, turning it over, studying it.
“I wanna make you feel good,” he murmured. “Is that… is this okay? Is it too much?”
Darcy pulled him down to kiss him, to show him how okay it was.
“You’re already doing it,” she murmured, pressing their foreheads together. “Making me feel good.”
Bucky pulled back, looking at the vibrator again.
“It uh… vibrates. There’s a button at the – yep…”
Darcy was pointing and Bucky pressed the button at the base of the toy, and it began to buzz.
“Three?” he repeated, and Darcy laughed.
“This one’s sorta old school. I have others with nine speeds and different rotations…”
“But this one’s your favorite?” Bucky said, pressing it up to its highest setting, the toy buzzing its loudest, making Darcy giggle.
Bucky turned it off for now, turning his attention back to her once more, his eyes bright. Darcy’s hands came up to touch his face, tracing the planes of him. Her hand met his mouth and she traced his lower lip, Bucky watching her.
When he kissed her, it was softer, languid. Darcy sighed, Bucky copying her, and he eased into resting on top of her again. Darcy wrapped her thighs around him, gently rocking her hips into his. She heard the little gasp ebb from his lips, their eyes meeting when they broke apart.
Bucky shifted his hands, slipping his flesh one under Darcy’s sleep shirt, tracing the skin of her lower back. Darcy nodded, encouraging him, his hand coming around to move up her front.
“Bucky,” she gasped, when his fingers met her nipple, cupping her breast and rolling it.
He blushed, rocking his hips again, harder than before. He was seeking her out, and Darcy kept nodding, biting her lip.
He looked down at her chest.
“Can I… can I take this off?”
Darcy nodded, and he helped tug off her shirt. He immediately latched onto her nipple, making Darcy laugh, threading her fingers through his hair as he licked and sucked at her, kissing her all over.
“They’re so big.”
Darcy laughed harder, trying to smother it with one hand on her mouth, and she shook with mirth. Bucky drew back, smiling down at her.
“I sound like a dope, huh?”
“It’s okay,” she gasped, laughing. She wiped her eyes, shifting her hips again, teasing him a little by bumping into him.
Bucky picked up the vibrator again, turning it on. He trailed it down her neck and chest, all the way down her stomach to her crotch. Darcy hissed, wriggling a little. He stopped at her mound for a second before pulling it away.
His eyes were darker, trained on her face to gauge her reactions. He pressed the tip of the vibrator to one wet nipple and Darcy whimpered, thinking of how worked up she already was, wanting more.
“I’m rusty, gotta give me time,” he whispered.
“You’re teasing me…” she whispered back, and he let out a short laugh.
“Yeah, a little…”
He ran the tip down her front to her cunt, pressing it there lightly, and Darcy sucked in a breath, whimpering louder.
His hand snaked down to the waistband of her sleep shorts, and Darcy nodded, gnawing at her lip.
“Please, please, please…”
“That sounds so good when you say it, Darce,” he whispered, and his fingers grazed the wet lips of her cunt and she moaned, nodding.
“Please, you feel so good…”
She began to tremble when he circled her clit, the vibrator buzzing against her stomach and dipping lower.
“Jesus,” he hissed, his eyes widening slightly. “I felt you get so wet.”
“It’s you, it’s you,” Darcy whispered, and she would otherwise cringe at her earnestness, but she was so turned on, and he’d barely touched her. “You feel so good..”
He caught her in a greedy kiss, his fingers working her clit, the vibrator hovering above her mound. Darcy rocked her hips, their mouths missing each other, Darcy’s hands everywhere.
Bucky tugged her shorts down further, Darcy helping him, kicking them off under the covers. Her face burned as Bucky’s eyes went straight to the space between her legs, watching his fingers massaging her, spreading the wetness around.
“This is really happening,” she whispered, and his eyes snapped to hers.
“Yeah,” he whispered, soft. “Yeah, it is…”
He hesitated, glancing down at the vibrator. Darcy reached to touch his face, petting his hair while he thought it over.
Darcy put her hand over his, the one holding the toy and he looked her in the eye again.
“Show me,” she whispered, and Bucky swallowed, watching her mouth. “Show me what you’d do with me. How you’d touch me.”
He let out a breath of a laugh, sounding nervous. He didn't find his words so Darcy did instead.
She smiled at him. “I’d… maybe play with you a little.”
She demonstrated on the toy, taking it from him, moving her hand up and down. She put it close to her face.
“I’d want to… taste you,” she whispered, and she opened her mouth. “Suck on you…”
She made herself push aside how intimidating it was, demonstrating something like a blowjob to the hottest guy she’d ever met. His big blue eyes stared at her as she slowly sucked on the vibrator, before handing it back to him, lifting her hips a little toward him.
“Show me what you’d do,” she whispered.
He sat back on his knees, letting the vibrator dip below, down her front again to meet her mound. Darcy let out a little moan, all her sensory attention on her clit. Bucky rubbed it up and down, and Darcy let her head fall back onto the mattress, closing her eyes.
She opened her eyes once more when the toy left her clit, moving down to nudge against her entrance. Darcy glanced at Bucky, nodding.
“I can starting begging again –”
“I wouldn’t advertise that, sweetheart,” Bucky cut in, and Darcy looked at his crotch, seeing the hard shape of him there.
She licked her hips. “Please… Please fuck me.”
“God,” Bucky hissed, and he moved down the bed, wrapping an arm around her thigh and bringing it up to spread her legs wider.
Darcy shivered, trying to angle herself toward the toy, the vibrating tip bumping against her. At the last second, Bucky flicked the tip back up to her clit, making Darcy cry out.
“Fu-uck, please! Please!”
He moved it back down, sinking the tip into her and Darcy let out a shaky breath, starting to laugh. He began to work the toy inside her, watching it up close as Darcy made a happy sound, her hand reaching to touch his hair.
“Yeah,” she breathed. He began to experiment with the speeds, Darcy’s smile encouraging him.
She began to giggle, the toy buzzing faster inside her, filling her. She began to moan as he worked it in and out of her, her hand coming down to rest between her legs, circling her clit.
Bucky’s eyes darted from her face then her cunt then back up again, licking his lips. She reached for her, cupping her jaw, his thumb brushing her lower lip.
Darcy opened her mouth, running her tongue along the pad of his thumb and sucking him between her lips. It prompted Bucky to work the toy inside her faster, Darcy’s sucking his thumb harder.
“Fuck, your mouth,” he whispered, and Darcy opened her mouth to speak.
“I like the way you think,” she retorted.
“Fuck,” Bucky said with emphasis, the toy moving a little rougher. “You’re cheeky…”
Darcy’s giggle dissolved into a moan, her fingers grinding her clit. She looked at Bucky’s crotch again, thinking of what he hid away, and Bucky followed her gaze.
“For me?” Darcy whispered, and Bucky chuckled.
“Yeah, for you,” he replied. “Surprised I haven’t embarrassed myself already…”
Bucky glanced back at her, waiting.
“I mean, if… you’d let me, I could…”
Darcy didn’t exactly know what she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to push him, either. She could feel she was close, the tension inside her building. She knew she was wet and willing.
“We don’t have to –”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured, and he traced her mouth with his fingers. “I wanna take care of you first.”
Darcy was relieved, smiling at him. She closed her eyes again, feeling Bucky’s hand trail down to cup her breast, the toy moving faster, harder. Darcy went still, except for her hand, lifting her hips off the mattress. She huffed, coming with a grunt, the beautiful rush running through her, all the way to the edges. Her toes tingled, her hand slipping away as she panted, blinking up at Bucky as she smiled.
She reached for him, kissing him hard, the toy pulled out and switched off.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she breathed, his mouth on her neck, sucking her pulse point.
Bucky’s hand slipped between them, finding her clit, making Darcy gasp.
“No, just… I do want more, but I want – I want you…”
Her hands found his fly and she watched his face. He didn’t squirm or pull away from her, so Darcy popped the button and pulled down the zipper.
Their noses brushed and she kissed him, slipping her hand into his boxers.
Soft skin but hard as a rock, leaking at the tip. She felt around, Bucky’s eyes fluttering closed as she began to stroke him, pulling his cock out for a better angle.
He came on her stomach soon after, the warm mess making Darcy sigh. Bucky panted, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He moved to lie down beside her while Darcy reached for some tissues to clean up, tossing them aside.
She watched Bucky’s eyelids grow heavy, her hand stroking his hair. He mumbled something while he began to drift off:
“You… wanna show me how to use the other ones in your drawer later?”
“You look cute.”
Darcy grinned, the pretend cigarette between her teeth as she glanced at Bucky in her mirror. She’d been at it for nearly an hour, putting her costume together. She wore a colorful short-sleeved buttoned shirt and a pair of acid wash jeans with scuffed up boots. She’d just finished daubing the fake blood on her face before popping the cigarette in her mouth.
“Thanks,” she replied. She spun around. “I mean, that wasn’t the idea, but thanks.”
“Who’re you supposed to be?” Bucky asked, walking over to her, his hands reaching for her waist.
Darcy could wear whatever she wanted and still look good enough to eat. Bucky didn’t need convincing. The glint in her eye gave her an edge – it made him want to follow her to this damn Halloween party in the common room, even though he didn’t want to this time the day before.
“Jim Hopper, from Stranger Things,” Darcy replied. “I still need to watch with you.”
“You think I’ll like it?” Bucky said, and Darcy giggled.
“Oh, yeah. Nerdy sci-fi shit and Winona Ryder? You’ll love her.”
“Sound like you know me or somethin’,” he muttered, and he kissed her, slow and lingering.
Darcy made a little sound against his lips, pushing him back with a finger to his chest.
“You’re gonna mess up the costume.”
Bucky relented, trying to not outright grumble, feeling his cock already half-hard in his jeans. Darcy seemed to read his mind, tilting her head at him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said with a breath of a laugh.
Darcy grinned, moving past him, Bucky following her out of the bedroom. She grabbed her phone from the charger and checked it, pursing her lips as she read the time.
“You sure you’re not coming?” she asked, and Bucky stopped in his tracks.
The air seemed to change. Bucky blinked, averting his gaze.
“I dunno… about parties,” he muttered. “I’m not great at those. I… don’t even have a costume.”
“Sure, you have a costume,” Darcy said. “You can go as…”
Her sentence trailed off and she made a face.
“I could go as post-traumatic stress disorder,” Bucky said, and Darcy’s eyebrows hiked. He met her gaze. “You know, ‘cause I’d look exactly the same and it’s an invisible illness.”
A silence fell between them and Darcy frowned, crossing her arms.
“Come on, that’s funny,” Bucky said, coming toward her to kiss her face.
Darcy shook her head, but she was smirking. “Not that funny…”
He stroked her cheek with a thumb.
“I’m going to say no.”
“Okay,” she replied.
Bucky tilted his head. “You don’t seem mad….”
“Why would I be?” Darcy replied. “All joking aside, your recovery is not beneath a stupid Stark party. Most likely, I’ll get bored without you because there’s only so much Drunk Jane I can handle –”
“Yeah, who knew someone that small could be such an asshole?”
“Do not make a Rocket comparison when she’s in hearing distance of you,” Darcy said, raising a finger. “Because like him, she will bite.”
They chuckled together, Bucky ducking his head to kiss the tip of her finger.
Darcy pulled him into a firm kiss before walking toward the front door. Bucky watched her go, his eyes dipping to her ass.
“Yeah, yeah,” she called, not turning her head until she reached the door, opening it. She flashed him a smile. “You hate to see me go but you love to watch me leave.”
She winked, Bucky smiling back at her, his stomach flipping. He was a lucky bastard.
Bucky watched TV for an hour or so. He tried to not keep glancing at the front door, but it was hard. He felt guilty, even though Darcy hadn’t intended to make him feel that way. As far as he knew, she really didn’t mind at all. He had no reason to believe that Darcy would lie to him.
Maybe he just missed her, which made sense. He didn’t like thinking about how needy that made him. It wasn’t her job to make him feel better all the time. She took all that shit in her stride, not even thinking about it. It’s why he loved her so damn much, among other reasons.
He watched half an episode of Stranger Things before he heard the sound of Darcy using the keypad outside, and he glanced toward the door, seeing her come in. She smiled, noticing the TV screen.
“You started without me,” she said.
“Didn’t think you’d mind,” he replied, pausing it as Darcy tugged off her boots, sighing as she came over and flopped onto the couch beside him.
She watched his face watching the guy she said was Hopper. Bucky’s eyes swung from the screen to her, assessing.
“He gives you hot pants,” he muttered, and Darcy instantly blushed.
“Yeah,” she replied. “So what? He’s like a grumpy bear. I wanna… climb him.”
“Among other things,” Bucky muttered. He wasn’t jealous. He just liked seeing her all worked up.
“And? You don’t think Joyce is cute?” she retorted.
“I do think she’s cute,” he murmured, smiling.
They watched the rest of the episode, Darcy’s legs draped across Bucky’s lap, his hands rubbing her ankles every so often. When the next one started, Bucky turned his head slightly to regard Darcy.
“You got… cuffs like Hopper does?”
Darcy’s eyes widened a fraction, his words sinking in.
“Does the pope shit in the woods?”
Bucky snorted, and Darcy smiled at him, moving her legs off of him to rest on her knees, shifting closer to him.
“Did you think about that while I was gone?” she murmured, brushing his nose with hers. “Me cuffing you?”
“Yeah,” Bucky breathed, and Darcy’s tongue darted out to lick a short line from his bottom lip to his top one, and he sucked in a breath.
He’d thought about her racing around in a cop car, doing some intricate stunt work like something out of Magnum P.I. – he managed to catch some of that show in his therapist’s waiting room every week. He could picture Darcy holding up her badge, telling a perp to freeze.
Thinking of Darcy doing most things got him riled up, and he had wondered if the outfit came with handcuffs.
“You know I know they won’t hold you,” Darcy murmured, and Bucky nodded.
“Yeah, but… we could pretend,” he replied, and Darcy’s hand came down to rub him through his jeans.
“Yeah,” he said again. He licked his lips, narrowing avoiding Darcy’s mouth in the process. “Sit on my face.”
Darcy pulled back, huffing a laugh. All she did for one long moment was keep her hand on his crotch, staring straight at him with hungry eyes.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Get on the floor.”
She moved back, and Bucky did exactly as he was told, dropping to the floor on his knees, eyes still fixed on her.
Darcy’s heartbeat was racing when he told her he’d eat her out that way.
It was something about him, or maybe it was Darcy’s appetite, but she couldn’t get enough of Bucky. She knew she had to show some restraint, because she had other responsibilities. If she could, she was sure she’d spend every second with him under or on top of her. She knew about the honeymoon period. She knew people got tired of each other, tired of sex, but she hadn’t.
It had been months and she still scratched at the surface.
She didn’t want to frighten him. She didn’t want him triggered by her behavior. She was still careful, hence her moving away from him earlier, when all she really wanted was to stay inside with him all the time.
There was a danger in pouring herself entirely into a man. She’d seen other people do it and come out worse off. She needed to be her own person. She didn’t like it, being careful.
She grabbed her bag before she could lose her nerve, pulling out the handcuffs. She bought them from a costume store on eBay, so they weren’t very well made in the first place. The keys were still in the little lock, and she held them up, stuffing the keys in the back pocket of her jeans.
“Hands out,” she murmured.
On his knees, Bucky stuck his wrists out and she cuffed him. She pushed his chest with her hands and he fell backward to the floor, biting his lip as Darcy lowered herself to undo his fly.
She pulled down his jeans to his thighs with his underwear, his cock springing free. She grabbed him by the shaft, and Bucky grunted, the sound making Darcy’s nipples hard beneath her shirt. She jerked him, Bucky’s mouth falling open, his breath coming in pants.
Darcy moved up, her hands reaching for her jeans button and popping it. She hopped, taking off her jeans and kicking them aside, her lower half bare to him, and she stood back over him, Bucky lying between her two feet planted on the carpet.
She put her hands on her hips, watching him. Bucky looked at her cunt, licking his lips.
“Come on,” he whispered.
Darcy knelt, resting her ass on his chest, her hands going to cup his face in her hands. The silent question – was he okay?
Darcy tilted forward, taking a deep breath and letting it go, lowering herself so that her crotch was within range of Bucky’s face. Bucky’s eyes stayed opened as his tongue darted out to lick her, and Darcy gasped, her eyes fluttering shut.
She felt herself flood with arousal, her body tingling as Bucky lapped at her greedily. She opened her eyes, seeing his mouth working her over, kissing and sucking her folds.
“My clit,” she whispered, and he obliged, sucking it into his mouth and she sighed. “Fuck, yeah…”
He built her up and up, until Darcy came with a shudder, the sensation so intense she sobbed, her hand on the back of Bucky’s head. She let him go, falling back so her ass hit the floor, panting.
Bucky turned to his side, wiping his mouth on his shoulder as best he could, his wrists still in place in front of him.
She glanced down at his crotch, seeing his cock was pink and leaking, and she dove for it, Bucky letting out a shout when she wrapped her lips around him, taking him to the back of her throat.
She got like this – hungry for him, in more ways than one – and she knew he loved it, especially because he couldn’t shut up when her mouth was on him.
“Oh, my God…”
She hummed, and he moaned louder, helpless. Darcy hollowed her cheeks and went up and down, pulling back to pump him rough like before, his cock slippery to the touch.
His heels dug into the carpet as she attacked him over and over, until he was pleading with her.
“I’m gonna come, but – I wanna, please – Darcy, please…”
She pulled back with a gasp, their eyes meeting. She moved up his body, swinging her leg over to straddle his lap, tucking him inside her with ease.
He was a mess, and so was she, covered and sweat and trembling by the time they were done. Bucky’s teeth left a mark on her left breast, only for his tongue to soothe the hurt a second later, making Darcy hiss.
They lay on the carpet together after, panting and kissing lazily.
She didn't care. She didn't want to care, either, that she was happiest here with him, joined one way or another. She knew Bucky felt the same way, with how he was looking back at her, sighing contentedly.
Darcy looked at his wrists still cuffed and smirked, waggling her eyebrows when their eyes met once more.
“You wanna cuff me next time?”
Chapter 13: Nomad!Steve/Darcy - Creampie
Funny how the weekends are the busier days for me, hence this being posted a lot later. This is a longer fic again but I wanted to write a little Nomad Steve. Also thank you to suzieqsez for sending me the dialogue prompt "use your teeth".
Edit: on October 30th I caved and made this chapter and its sequel (Day 29) a separate fichere
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
She wondered how this was going to be discussed at a later debriefing with those in charge. If they made it out of there alive, that is. For a split second, Darcy weighed up the pros of dying at the hands of HYDRA – number one on the list being ‘I won’t have to file any paperwork’. Other people would, and then Jane would have to sift through Darcy’s belongings and try to figure out what to do with her life-sized 3D poster of Nathan Fillion from Firefly.
She knew she didn’t want to die, especially not in some dank dungeon with her hands zip tied behind her back, with a bucket in the corner of her enclosure, and a flickering light overhead. It all felt a little too on the nose for her tastes.
Darcy knew it wasn’t a joking matter, getting kidnapped. She was in for a shitload of issues stemming from this. She’d never be able to leave the house without having a panic attack and she’d avoid being in crowded places. She tried to think back on the last several hours and recalled that she was walking home in a well-lit area in Albuquerque suburbia. Why they chose to capture her now was completely lost on her. She felt as if that ship had thoroughly sailed, and she’d been able to assume the role of happy little idiot when she and Jane went their separate ways last year. They still spoke every day through texts, emails and phone calls, they just didn’t work together anymore. HYDRA deciding to kidnap her for information seemed too little too late, hence Darcy’s happy idiot stance on Jane and everything SHIELD related.
Darcy knew she missed it, being part of something greater than herself. She still had nightmares of the Destroyer and the Dark Elves. She’d check the news every day and miss the atmosphere of that world, even though at the time she always felt as though her days were numbered. Sitting in the dungeon now didn’t make sense.
Having a sense of humour might come in handy when she was going insane from being tortured. Or maybe it would just infuriate her captors more than ever, and they’d redouble their efforts to break her. Darcy gave short sigh, feeling her eyes prickle at the thought of being touched by forceful hands. Her stomach churned.
She heard footsteps and she tensed, waiting. Then came a loud bang and Darcy flinched, readying herself for some consequence. There was only so much she could do, sitting in the hard chair with her hands tied behind her back… which was kind of the point.
The door was wrenched open and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the first strike. She opened one eye and her mouth fell open.
“Oh. Hi,” she said.
A hairier version of Steve Rogers stood in the doorway, his eyes falling to Darcy’s. At least, she was pretty sure it was him. It had been a few years.
“It is Steve, right?” she said, and he nodded vaguely, looking dumbstruck.
“The fuck are you doin’ here, Darce?”
She attempted a shrug, a small smile forming. “I… search me. I have no idea. Aren’t you… a war criminal now?”
“Kinda,” he muttered, and he knelt behind her, examining her wrists. “You been here long?”
Darcy tried shrugging again, feeling the plastic cut into her skin some more and she winced.
“How’d you even know I was here?”
Steve went quiet and Darcy sighed.
“You didn’t know I was here?”
Typical. No-one really noticed her when she was part of this world before when she worked for Jane, so having the same thing happen now when she wasn’t her boss anymore shouldn’t surprise her. She closed her eyes briefly, shaking her head.
“Whatever. You got a knife or something?”
Steve let out a breath, sounding irritated. “Lost it before in some guy’s chest –”
“Oh,” Darcy said. “Use your teeth.”
She felt something wet on her wrist and glanced down, seeing Steve do just that, his beard scratching her as his teeth bit into the plastic, before he turned his head and spat away from them, Darcy’s arms slackening.
She glanced down at her wrists, seeing the skin was marked with blood blisters and broken skin and she rubbed them, shaking as she attempted to stand.
“You good?” Steve asked, and she felt one arm wrap around her waist, tugging her upright.
“How’s life treatin’ you otherwise these days?” he asked, and Darcy gave a short laugh lacking mirth.
“You really think I’m not going to ask about what you’re up to?” she retorted.
“Mine’s not as interesting to me,” he replied.
They began to walk out the door, Darcy’s arm draped awkwardly across his broad shoulders, his arm around her waist still as he held her close. Her feet dragged but she didn’t mind if it meant moving quickly. She wasn’t above rescuing. She didn’t think any woman really was, especially in a HYDRA facility like this one.
“Where are we?” Darcy asked, and she heard the distant banging on gunfire coming from somewhere outside the walls of the hallway they moved through. “I’ll be able to answer your question if you tell me.”
Steve let out a huff of a laugh, Darcy’s eyes meeting his. The close proximity of their bodies made it that much easier to see the thick lashes that framed his blue eyes.
“We’re just outside Xpujil,” he replied, and Darcy’s eyes bulged.
Steve nodded. “Nat saw your face on the dark web. From the looks of you, I don’t think you’ve been here long. Which is good…”
They turned a corner and Steve rose his arm, blocking a bullet that hurtled toward them. Darcy gave a yell, Steve’s body shielding her as they crouched. She watched as he punched a guy’s lights out, the agent crumbling to the floor, his nose a bloody mass in the middle of his face.
“Black Widow’s here?” Darcy asked, her heartbeat at a sickening pace in her chest. She was ready for it to pop from beating so hard.
Steve’s eyes met hers. “Yeah…”
Darcy looked at his belt. “You got a gun I can use?”
He nodded, taking a Glock from his holster and handing it to her, handle first. She took it, checking the safety was off, and held it in both hands.
“Transportation close?” Steve said, his finger pressing to a little black device in his ear.
Darcy could hear a static, muffled voice replying to Steve as she kept her eyes darting around the hallway, listening out for any sign of life.
“Yeah, Darcy’s fine,” she heard him say, and she glanced at him, blinking. “Stay where you are.”
There was a loud bang and Darcy jumped, gripping her pistol tighter, trying to find the source of the sound. Steve grabbed her elbow, tugging her along as they ran. She couldn’t feel her feet on the ground as the adrenaline coursed through her. She hoped it would keep her going until they were out of there. Steve kicked a door down and they ducked into a stairwell, their footsteps echoing. Darcy heard shouts and glanced down, seeing three guys yelling and running after them.
“Go, go, go!” Steve yelled, and they took off, their ascension swift.
Darcy stumbled, possibly twisting her ankle in her haste. She gasped when more figures came into view, blocking their path to the roof. Steve lunged forward, punching with both hands, Darcy’s back to his as she held her gun aloft.
“Steve, we need backup –”
She heard Steve get cut off and she spun around, seeing he was slowly being overpowered. There were ten of them, including Darcy and Steve, crowding in the narrow stairwell, limbs everywhere. Darcy shot two guys on top of Steve before he wrenched himself free, giving her a quick glance.
“Thanks, I owe you –”
“Shut up,” she retorted. “That was for getting me out of that chair.”
She ducked to the floor and Steve sucker punched the men behind her. Darcy rolled toward the wall, panting, her eyes darting around. Unconscious men lay around her, Steve standing with his hands still balled into fists. He offered her help getting back up and she took it.
“Your life isn’t so interesting?” Darcy said, and Steve flashed a grin.
“You were the one taken hostage.”
Darcy felt her stomach flip at his beautiful face, remembering those old feelings from years ago. She thought she’d lost them for good, somewhere in between then and now, but it seemed like she’d been lying to herself. It was easier to forget about a crush when your crush had become a wanted man, on the run for the last year and a half.
She slipped her hand into his, and they ran up the remaining stairs, bursting into the rooftop. Darcy could hear the quinjet closeby, and she rose a hand to wave at it.
“You thought it’d be an easy extraction?”
“This place was virtually abandoned, Darce,” he retorted, his hands on his hips.
She wondered if she stank. She caught a whiff of herself earlier when she came to, and it wasn’t anything riper than a long day without deodorant, but she’d rather not stand so close to Steve just in case.
They stared at one another for a beat, the quinjet’s ladder dropping as it lowered. Steve moved closer to her, taking her by the waist.
She smiled down at him, picturing him twirling her around, which he never did before. She never got a chance to ever get that close to Steve. It was hard to be bitter about it now, because he was wearing the hell out of this new rugged look of his, his gaze warm and drinking her in.
She saw a shape in her peripheral vision and turned her head toward it, seeing a figure burst out into the open, pistol raise. Darcy reached for the gun she tucked in her pants, lifting it up to aim at the approaching figure behind Steve’s back, squeezing the trigger.
The crack of the gun echoed in her skull, her ears ringing as Steve’s face changed, his eyes going wide. She stared as the man behind them fell to his knees, then keeled over, his gun clattering on the concrete.
Steve glanced behind them, before turning back, nodding at the ladder.
Darcy stretched, grabbing the ladder and began to pull herself up, grunting with the effort. She tried to not look down as she climbed, Steve behind her. When she reached the top, Sam Wilson was standing over her.
“You alright, Lewis?”
Darcy felt Steve’s chest hit her back and she blushed at the sudden contact, nodding up at Sam.
“You dumbasses couldn’t help him out?”
“You think that was my decision?” Sam threw back, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the quinjet.
Steve followed her, both men grabbing Darcy to keep her upright as the jet swayed. The door lifted and shut, and Darcy let out a shaky breath, glancing down at the pistol she still held tight in her hand.
She felt dizzy, and Steve took the Glock from her, Sam’s eyes searching her. She was vaguely aware of him asking her a question and touching her face, but Darcy fought to stay still, only to feel her whole body tingle. Darkness swallowed her up, and in that brief moment, Darcy felt safe.
She bolted upright, gasping as she nearly smacked her body straight into Steve. She glanced around, seeing she was in the quinjet still, her legs across two chairs as Steve knelt beside her, Sam standing close by.
“Nosferatu,” Sam muttered, and Darcy swung her eyes toward him.
“That wasn’t a dream?” she asked, and Sam shook his head. “Where are we going?”
“Base,” Steve said, and she felt his hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back to lie down again. “We’re another ten minutes away. You passed out.”
She felt her stomach flip as she tried to settle against the seats, staring up at Steve. His brows were furrowed with concern.
“It’s top-secret, right? Like maybe you won’t let me leave?”
Darcy recalled her war criminal comment from before and tried to not physically cringe at the memory. She passed a hand over her face.
“Look, I’m not even doing the science shit anymore,” she said to Steve, whose frown had intensified. “I work in human resources now. I have a pug bobble head on my desk next to my Hulk Post-It Notes. That’s how… in the game I am right now.”
Steve blinked. “I didn’t get that impression before. You saved my life.”
Darcy felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “What?”
“You two boys said ‘thank you’ yet?” called a female voice and Darcy gulped.
“Nat?” she called. “Can I call you Nat?”
She got up awkwardly, trying to not touch Steve as she shuffled toward the front of the jet, leaning against the empty co-pilot chair beside Black Widow. Darcy stared at her hair, which was a short white blonde bob. The spy gave her a little smile.
“Can I call you Darcy?” she replied, and Darcy nodded. “Then, sure. Call me Nat.”
“Steve said you were the one that found me on the dark web,” Darcy said, and Nat nodded. “Did you find out why I was even on there in the first place?”
“Probably something to do with a ransom. Or some kind of hostage exchange,” the spy replied. “I think we beat Tony by several hours.”
“Thanks for… coming and getting me,” Darcy said, and Nat flashed a wider smile.
“No problem. But don’t just thank me… I don’t think I’ve seen Cap like that in a while.”
Natasha’s smirk made Darcy pause, her mind reeling at the implications. Nat turned her head slightly to look at Steve, who was shaking his head, rubbing his eyes.
“I mean, not since…”
Sam and Natasha exchanged a look.
“Sharon?” she whispered, and Sam winked.
Darcy tried to stare straight ahead at the view of the dimmed lights she could spot in the distance.
“You know I can hear you,” Steve called, and Darcy bit her lip to stop herself from smirking at his irritability.
It was so tempting to turn around and flash him a saucy gesture of some kind, like dropping a hip and smirking at him. She cleared her throat.
“I need a shower.”
“Yeah. All of us do,” Sam muttered, and she didn’t bother suppressing her snort.
They landed at the base and Darcy was searched on arrival, until Steve stepped in and shook his head at the guy who was waving the special detector on her person.
She felt him touch the small of her back with a gloved hand and she tried not to be visibly react, walking on with Sam and Natasha with Steve right behind her.
“It’s better if you don’t know where you are,” Natasha said, before Darcy could ask. “Not just for our sakes.”
Darcy nodded, keeping her mouth shut. It was dark, the airfield they landed on home to three other jets. Everyone walking around was dressed in varying shades of black. Several saluted Steve and the others as they walked. Darcy recognized no-one and she supposed it was for the best.
“Oh, shit,” Darcy hissed, and Steve touched her arm. “My wallet. I bet some asshole has all my cards, fucking up my credit –”
“I took care of that,” Natasha cut in, turning her head to glance Darcy’s way once more. “Your keys, too.”
“How long was I out?”
“Maybe a day,” Steve said, and she nodded, biting her lip. “We’ll get you home later tomorrow.”
“We’ll find you a bed,” Natasha added and Darcy flashed her a grateful smile. “And something to eat.”
“None of those home fries, please,” piped up Sam, who rose his eyebrows at Darcy. “Can’t have Lewis knowing what a sorry state that kitchen is.”
“Susan is working on it,” Natasha retorted. “Good help is hard to come by.”
“Susan needs to hire someone who knows something about flavour,” Sam muttered. “It’s embarrassing.”
“We can’t all have hot sauce on everything like you.”
“Who said?” Sam snapped, and Darcy began to giggle. He caught her gaze. “No home fries. Maybe a sandwich. And no salads, either. That shit is sad.”
They reached a main building and Darcy ducked in, glancing around. It reminded her of the SHIELD facilities back in New York, all high ceilings and glass walls.
“You need to sign in for a medical,” Natasha murmured, nodding at a desk they walked towards.
Darcy let out a sigh. “Do I have to?”
“It’ll be quick,” Natasha said, nudging her. “Cap will keep you company.”
Darcy wasn’t exactly mad about it, but she could hear the conspiratorial undertone to everything Natasha said, and she suspected Steve could, too, by the way he looked at her when Natasha bid them goodnight. Sam rose a hand goodbye as well, leaving Steve and Darcy alone.
“Do I have to see a doctor?” she asked him, and he smirked.
“You did faint.”
“I’m fine,” she said, drawing out the word.
Steve looked at her for several seconds before nodding, looking over Darcy’s shoulder.
“Okay? I don’t have to go?” Darcy said.
His eyes swung back to hers, pinning her there.
“Yeah. I’m not the boss of you.”
“Well, okay,” Darcy said, putting her hands on her hips. “How about that sandwich?”
They were alone in the cafeteria, sitting at a small table with the food between them. They got the home fries, despite Sam’s forbidding them. They weren’t that bad. She’d eaten better, but right now, all she wanted was comfort food.
It began to sink in, what happened. She caught herself staring at her cup of coffee, thinking the last moments over before she woke up in that basement. Whoever took her knew where she worked. She shivered, hearing Steve say something she didn’t quite catch.
“You okay?” he said, his arms crossed, watching her.
Darcy blinked a few times. “Oh. Yeah, totally… just… thinking about…”
Her eyes stung, and there was a lump in her throat. The feelings overcame her so suddenly she gasped, surprised.
She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, letting out a shuddering breath. She was embarrassed, too, even though she knew it was stupid to be.
“We’ll get you home soon,” Steve said, and she felt him reach out to touch her shoulder.
She took her hands away, sniffing. She spoke to her coffee cup instead of Steve.
“Do I even get to go back? Now that I know you’re all here?”
There was a beat and he withdrew his hand, resting it beside his own coffee. Darcy could see his nails were short, and she could be wrong, but it looked like he bit them.
“Tony Stark and Ross won’t kick down my door this time tomorrow when I’m back in the real world?”
She glanced up to meet his gaze. Steve looked weary.
“I dunno,” he said eventually. “And I’m sorry it’s not a proper answer I can give you…”
Darcy nodded, thinking. She sighed. “You don’t know if I’ll be allowed to leave.”
“You will go back home,” he said, firmer.
“If you say so?” Darcy said, a little more bite to her tone.
She thought about what Natasha said earlier, about Tony beating them by several hours. She might have just missed him, and then she wouldn’t be dealing with being associated with Steve. She only had a vague sense of how badly the Accords really fucked up the Avengers, and she knew this made it more difficult, that Steve was the one to seek her out and pick her up.
She watched Steve mull this over, picking up his coffee and sipping it before putting it back down. Darcy glanced at his chest, seeing the outline of the star on his tactical suit. She wondered when he decided to tear that off.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
He blinked. “No, you’re right. I’ve dragged you into this. But I can get you back home. I will get you back home, Darcy.”
Darcy nodded, tried to believe him. She knew when he got an idea in his head he stuck to it, hence the Accords falling out with Tony. Darcy’s version that she heard from Jane had it sounding like it was a long time coming, this friendship ending abruptly. She knew it wasn’t so simple as men disagreeing.
“Why’d you come running?” she asked, unable to keep the question to herself any longer. “Why not wait for Tony to get me instead?”
Steve’s lips parted, his eyes focusing on her hands clutching her coffee cup.
“You… wanted to do the right thing?”
He nodded. “That and you reminded me of another time, when things felt simpler. Now it’s…”
Now he was on the run, in an undisclosed location, his appearance so drastically different Darcy was sure a stranger walking past him wouldn’t pick him as Captain America. She knew those eyes, and that voice. She remembered years ago when she was on the compound, his wry smirks and boyish face.
“The beard’s nice,” she said, and his brows hiked. “Unexpected, but… nice.”
“You look exactly the same,” he threw back, which made Darcy roll her eyes, unconvinced. “Except for the gun-savvy stance. When’d you learn to shoot?”
“Last year,” she replied, shrugging. She felt a little proud of herself, though. “Went to a range, did some classes. I thought about getting a concealed carry license but…”
Then she’d have to explain why she had a gun, if she had one. She’d have to tell her story, or some version of it to explain why she sometimes whipped her head around in crowded places, searching for danger.
“I’m glad,” Steve said. “Saved my ass.”
“I saved Captain America’s ass,” Darcy said, grinning. She picked up a bit of her home fries and dipped it in ketchup, popping it in her mouth. “I deserve a sticker. Or a t-shirt.”
Steve ducked his head snorting. “Right.”
“I mean, if there was one ass I could save, it’d be yours…” she muttered under her breath, averting her gaze to her food. She licked her fingers clean, Steve watching her.
He leaned back in his chair, glancing away, thinking something over. His eyes swung back to hers, and Darcy was reminded of the past. Sometimes Steve looked at her in a way that made her feel as if it was a physical weight. She felt a heat settle in her gut.
“This is the part where I ask about your boyfriend,” he said, and Darcy’s stomach flipped. “Ian… Boothby?”
Darcy knew about his memory, that he’d never in a million years forget a name unless he tried to, and she got the feeling he hadn’t meant to forget that she had a boyfriend the last time she saw him. Darcy crossed her arms, tilting her head.
“What a horse’s ass,” Steve murmured, and Darcy smiled. He copied her, waiting.
“What about Sharon?” Darcy threw back, and she thought she might regret it by the way Steve’s eyes pulled away from her.
“Kind of a relationship killer to be out of the country,” he replied, and Darcy nodded.
There was a brief silence and Darcy kept watching him, feeling braver. She tapped her cup once, twice, sucking in a breath.
“You and Nat?”
Steve shook his head. “Bucky and Nat.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. “Really? No shit?”
“No shit,” he echoed, his smile returning. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”
Darcy burst into a smile. “Good for Bucky.”
So that wasn’t just a rumor – he managed to escape with Bucky from Siberia after all. She didn’t dare ask where his friend was stashed. She knew her knowing that would put too many lives in danger, including her own.
Steve looked at her plate and Darcy nodded. She was done. She rose from her chair with her plate on her tray, walking over to put it aside for the kitchen staff. Steve got up from his chair, waiting for her. They fell into step and walked back toward the elevators.
“Never got the timing right, did we?” Darcy murmured, and Steve’s hand went still, hovering over the button to call the elevator. “Always… off.”
“It’s what I’m best at,” Steve replied, pressing the button.
“So don’t let it pass you by.”
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, low enough that maybe another person would miss them, but she knew his hearing. She knew he was attuned to her, a flash of surprise and heat in his eyes when he stared down at her.
“You didn’t leave me behind before,” she added, her voice a little clearer.
She was pointing out things he already knew. It didn’t stop her from blushing, wondering how far he’d let her go.
“Kind of takes the guessing out of the equation, right?” she said, “And we don’t have to promise anything to one another, since you’ll be here again long after I’m gone –”
“Darcy,” he said, cutting her off.
“I’m just saying,” she said, her voice smaller.
“I know,” he said, nodding.
The elevator doors opened and Darcy moved inside, Steve stalling outside for a few seconds, until the doors began to shut and his arm reached out to stop them, his eyes elsewhere.
“I’ll drop it,” Darcy began. “I’ll shut up and then –”
He moved fast, turning his whole body toward her, the doors shutting behind him. He pressed a button, the car taking off as he moved closer, crowding her into a corner. He pressed his hips into hers, his head tilting to meet her and he kissed her.
Darcy had no time to recover, her brain and body mismatched as he nudged her mouth open and pushed his hot tongue between her lips, his moan low in his throat but unmistakable. Darcy’s eyes shut as he grabbed her by the back of the head, his thigh between her legs as she arched toward him.
There was nothing tentative about it, no hesitation in his touch. He took from her, only coming up for air for her sake, his mouth already pressing to the column of her neck. His beard was softer than she expected, and Darcy shivered, the facial hair making her skin tingle.
The elevator dinged and he pulled back, tugging Darcy off the wall of the car, dragging her out of there. He placed his hand flat on the reader beside his front door and Darcy heard a click, still panting from earlier. He pulled her inside by the waist, pressing her into the closed door when they were safely inside.
He lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist and Darcy moaned, sure that she’d pictured this a hundred times over. There was no way she was about to question Steve manhandling her, his lips finding hers again in the low light of his apartment. She dug her fingers into his thick hair, and she was rewarded with his breath hitching, his hips bucking into hers.
Her face felt hot, and she wanted him closer – she wanted him inside her now, and she pulled back, searching his face.
“You want to do this here or in the bedroom?”
If she wasn’t wet already, the look he gave her would have broken her resolve. He gave a short laugh, his lips meeting hers, his eyes still glued to hers.
“Maybe I can’t wait,” he whispered, and Darcy laughed, feeling light-headed.
His hands fell from her waist to cup her ass and she hissed, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth.
“Can’t help feeling like you’re all talk, Steve,” she retorted. “You’ve been all talk for years…”
“That ain’t true,” he cut in.
Darcy lifted her chin in defiance and Steve moved to kiss her again, lingering and thorough. Darcy sighed, feeling his hips grind into hers.
“I better what?” he retorted, his voice rough in her ear. He nipped at her neck, sounding pleased with himself. “I better what, Darcy?”
“Fuck… me,” Darcy gasped. “Or don’t… but I’d rather you didn’t leave me high and dry…”
She felt too hot, sure that she was bright red from pleading in his ear, but he was looking at her like he wanted to eat her whole when he moved back from her throat, licking his lips.
“Well, let’s be real. I’m anything but dry right now –”
He cut her off again with a rough kiss, all teeth and tongue. Darcy was overwhelmed by it, feeling as though Steve was fucking her with his tongue, one of his hands on her butt moving up and under her shirt, squeezing her tit as he kept her against the door, his hips rocking.
Darcy was spun around, Steve’s arms wrapped around her as she kept her legs locked around him, his mouth on her front, pressing kisses to her shirt as he walked them down the hallway and through a door to his bedroom.
They landed together on the mattress and Steve pulled back, tugging his gear off, Darcy watching him in the semi-dark, and in seconds he was half naked and lying on top of her again, kissing her breathless. He pulled her shirt off, his hands already going to unclasp her bra, throwing it aside.
Darcy gasped when he sucked a nipple into his mouth, his beard tickling her sensitive skin, her cunt clenching in anticipation. She moaned, feeling his hands on the waistband of her jeans, popping the button and yanking everything down.
She jolted at the feeling of his tongue running up her slit, his shoulders pushing her thighs apart. He pinned her there, tasting her, lapping at her cunt as she dug her fingers in his hair, gnawing at her lip. She couldn’t keep it in, what he was making her feel. She whimpered, his broad tongue licking at her, making her tremble. He sucked her clit into her mouth and she shut her eyes, her breath coming in shallow pants. He kept her on the precipice of her orgasm, pushing a finger inside her to the third knuckle. Darcy couldn’t help herself, gripping him as tight as she could, wanting to trap him there as he worked her over with greedy licks and sucks.
“Fuck, you’re gonna… you’re gonna make me…”
It felt like it was too much, she couldn’t keep herself quiet if her life depended on it. She dug a heel into the hard muscle of his back, trying to keep herself distracted, even for just a second. It wasn’t enough, because he kept at it, never letting her go and Darcy crumbled with a moan.
She left that room, that secret place, wherever they were. She came so hard she lost vision, her whole body tensing. She was aware of her thighs pressing into either side of Steve’s head, trapping him between her legs before she finally let go. It was nothing short of euphoric, him making her come like that…
He climbed up and kissed her, smelling of her arousal. Darcy glanced down between them, her hands moving to grab at his pants. There was a shuffle, and Darcy felt the nudge of his cock against her. Steve’s lips were parted, his mouth opening wider when he pushed in, his eyes glued to hers. He sank into her and Darcy felt Steve’s pant against her face, heard the hiss as he filled her to the hilt.
“You don’t have to be nice,” she whispered, and Steve’s eyes went darker, his hips rocking shallow at first. She lifted her head to brush her nose against his. “No pretences, remember?”
She was goading him. He was balls deep in her and she was teasing him. He pulled back, slamming into her, Darcy’s teeth grit at the force of him. Her head fell back when he did it again, and then he was off – hips thrusting him deep and fast into her, Darcy’s nails digging into his back like claws.
“Is this how you thought about fucking me?” she whispered, and he let out a breathless laugh, picking up speed.
“Yeah, but you weren’t doin’ so much talkin’…”
“Then make me shut up,” Darcy retorted, panting.
“I didn’t say anythin’ about you shutting up –”
He pressed his thumb to her clit without warning and Darcy squeezed around him, feeling a fresh flood of arousal, feeling everything evaporate but where they were joined.
“Goddamn,” he gasped, and Darcy began to wail. “So – fuckin’ – tight –”
Darcy came with a yell, half-sobbing, half-laughing by the end of it. Steve flattened her to the bed and fucked her blind – she lost sense of herself as he kept her trapped beneath him, babbling to him about him coming inside her and messing her up.
He pressed his mouth to hers at the last second, smacking against her as he climaxed, sounding like he’d run a marathon by the time he resurfaced.
He pulled back, glancing down where they’d joined, inspecting her. Darcy’s fingers fell down, and she felt his come begin to leak out as she kept twitching, and she smelt it in the air.
She saw Steve’s cock was still standing to attention and she licked her lips.
He shook his head, a little smile forming. He rubbed his sweaty face, taking hold of his cock and stroking himself.
“Yeah? You got another load for me?” she whispered. When he nodded, she smiled in surprise. “Really? You could do a second one?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, and he jerked himself a little more, before shoving back inside Darcy, his hips moving rough and fast.
Darcy couldn’t help it – she giggled, and maybe she was a little delirious from the first time, but she began to moan, Steve’s forehead pressed to hers.
“That what you want, you want more? Fuck,” he gasped, his balls smacking into her. “You’re gonna smell of me for hours…”
“I want it, I want it,” Darcy hissed.
“Come here,” he whispered, and he shifted back, pulling out and turning Darcy over, pushing her knee up and tucking back inside her, his hips smacking into her ass.
Darcy could barely stop herself from screaming when she came, Steve’s hand between them, rubbing her as she pressed her face into the bedspread.
Steve tugged her up until she sat on him, jerking his hips and pinning her there, one arm wrapped around her chest.
“Gonna come again for you, Darce,” he whispered and she whimpered, nodding. “Fuck…”
He went still, his cock twitching inside her and Darcy gave a soft laugh, so happy.
They panted, Darcy’s hand coming up to touch his head before he turned her face toward his for a kiss. Darcy made a sound against him, the world flooding back.
Darcy walked differently the following morning. She was glad neither Natasha nor Sam asked her anything about it. She was sure the teasing would start up the second she was gone.
The plane ride home was full of glances between herself and Steve, her fingers twined with his as Sam and Natasha sat up front.
“I’ll call you,” he said, when they were alone.
She was about to jump on a bus and make her way back to New Mexico and the sun was setting. Despite what transpired last night, Darcy knew they weren’t about to shake one another because of distance or time.
“Have fun with that,” Darcy said with a smirk. “Bouncing satellites and whatnot.”
He smiled, squeezing her hand, looking down at it.
She knew it didn’t sit well with him, Ross and Tony probably putting several agents on her to watch her for any sign of where Steve was hiding.
“But no promises,” she added, winking.
Steve pulled her into a kiss, breaking away to whisper, “Now who’s all talk?”
Chapter 14: Steve/Darcy - Asphyxiation & Cunnilingus
Steve sluts unite! A kind of sequel to day 5, "Sadism/Masochism"...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Darcy let out a long groan as she trudged down the hallway, her shoes stomping on the floorboards. She dropped her bag and keys, walking into the kitchen to find Steve covering a plate with foil.
He turned his head to look at her and she sighed, passing a hand over her face.
“Oh, good, you got my text,” she mumbled, and she gave a weary smile.
“You want me to heat this up?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“Later, I’ll get something later,” she whispered.
She moved up behind him, hugging him. Steve leaned down to kiss her briefly and she sighed again.
“That bad, huh?” he murmured, and she nodded, eyes widening as she moved out of his way for him to take the food to the fridge.
“Every fucking time they do this. And if someone actually read my notes, they’d know to change the program. Recruits get skittish and it creates tension.”
She put up her hands, exaggerating.
“Y’know? And I’m trying to keep one kid off another because they’re fighting and they’ve met three seconds ago – and then the other kids are backed against the wall…”
Darcy rolled her eyes.
“I need at least one enhanced liaison, I don’t give a shit what that costs, I’m sick of trying to wrangle these kids with a taser and my two hands, just like, going ‘okay, okay, okay, okay’… but will anyone ever listen to me?”
She rubbed her eyes, Steve’s hand touching her shoulder and squeezing.
“How was your day?” she mumbled, and she knew it sounded like a total afterthought.
“Not as bad as yours, I think,” he replied, smiling a little. “You… need anything?”
Darcy had thought of that one her way back to the apartment, thought about texting him something about a scene, but instead of telling him she thought she’d rather show. She picked his wrist up from his side, putting his hand to her throat and wrapping his fingers around her neck, pressing him down.
She watched as Steve’s lips parted and he made the switch, becoming exactly who she needed. She was seized by the neck while his other hand worked his belt buckle, the familiar sound enough to already make her press her thighs together. Her response was purely Pavlovian in nature, her mouth watering as she was pushed to her knees, Steve’s cock pulled out. Darcy stuck out her tongue, Steve’s cock half-hard in seconds, pushing inside her mouth.
Darcy moaned, sucking him, her hands on either leg. She glanced up at him, Steve’s eyes full of heat. He gathered her hair in one fist and began to rock his hips, picking up speed as Darcy’s tongue lay flat against him. She arched her back, coughing.
“Keep your eyes open… that’s it,” he murmured, and Darcy moaned, her mouth full.
There was a flash of something, perhaps awe on his face and he growled, laughing a little as he fucked her face in shallow thrusts.
“Look at that smile on your face, you nasty little girl…”
Surrendering to her body and its basest desires was the most effective stress relief Darcy knew, so she was smiling because she enjoyed it so much, being his little toy. Both his hands were on her face and he was making her want to writhe around.
She was lost in it, the feeling of her throat being full and bruised, and she coughed again and again. She came up for air, only for Steve’s fingers to pinch her nose and make her gag. She laughed, or tried to, until Steve yanked her up by the arms and she let out a squeal of surprise.
She was thrown over his shoulder, his hand smacking her rear as he marched them out of the kitchen and down the hallway. She was thrown down onto the mattress, Steve’s hands yanking down her leggings and damp underwear while she scrambled to lean back on her elbows and watch him move between her thighs.
He made eating her pussy into a power play, pinning her down and working her over without mercy, his three fingers shoving into her just as she was making sense of the new surroundings. One hand came to paw at her chest, squeezing her over her shirt, his lips latching onto her swollen clit and flicking it fast and hard. Darcy began to huff, unable to angle herself away from him, her head falling back. He worked his pinkie into her cunt as well, dragging back and forth against her walls, pressing firmly down on her G-spot as Darcy began to wail.
“Please can I come?” she gasped, trying to dig her heels into the bedspread, her eyes locking with Steve’s. “Please, PLEASE!”
She began to yell and Steve lifted his hand from her front and smacked her chest, and she hissed, distracted for a whole two seconds, feeling her cunt begin to flutter around his fingers.
“You come when I say you can come, you know the rules…”
“I can’t help it!” she yelled and she laughed weakly, dissolving into another moan when he jabbed at her G-spot. “No… fair!”
Her thighs shook as she screwed her eyes shut, trying to hold off, Steve’s mouth still on her clit as he spoke.
“Who said it’s about fair, sweetheart?”
“Come,” he said, and Darcy whined, all sensation leaving her except her cunt, Steve’s mouth leaving her as she gushed, another surprised laugh falling from his lips as she quivered and moaned.
“Oh, my God…” she breathed, and then she gave a yell as he fucked her hard and fast, working her clit with his thumb. “Nnnnn… GOD!”
Steve pulled his fingers out of her and she clenched on nothing, missing him instantly, whimpering as he smacked her mound with his soaked fingers. She yelped when he patted her clit over the hood, cupping her and grabbing her by the throat again.
“I don’t think I’m done draining you. You got more for me?” he whispered, and Darcy nodded, whimpering as he shoved back inside her. “Come for me again. Come for me…”
It took a couple minutes, Darcy’s thighs soaking as she panted, Steve’s fingers wrapping tighter around her neck setting her off. She couldn’t breathe and she loved it, and loved that she trusted him so completely. Being an enhanced human always conscious of his strength made him the ideal playmate, and she was never going to take that for granted.
“Gimme me a kiss,” he whispered, and she sighed, his mouth sealing over hers, his fingers pumping in and out. He grunted when Darcy gripped him tighter, and he rewarded her petulance with a smack to her ass, his fingers leaving her.
Darcy tried reaching for his cock again that brushed her midsection and he took both her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head, her whole body pinned to the mattress, her hips trying to lift toward his. He grinned down at her, kicking her legs apart and lining himself up with her, rubbing his length along her.
Darcy whimpered, then began whining when he drew the moment out longer, teasing her.
“I want it… I want it…”
He flipped her over, Darcy’s triumphant grin hidden in the sheets. She sucked in a breath as he pushed inside her to the hilt, his hips setting a punishing pace.
Darcy shouted when he pushed the pad of his thumb against her asshole, her back bowing in surprise.
“It’s been a while since I was in your ass, huh, sweetheart?” he murmured, and Darcy made an affirming wail, tightening around him. “Not right now. Maybe later… I want this part of you now…”
He slipped a hand down her front to tease her clit and she gave a little sob, her cunt clenching in anticipation.
“We both know you’re greedy, so I’m sure you’ll want me in both…”
“God, yes,” Darcy breathed, and Steve began to laugh, his voice a little strained.
“Make me come, Darcy,” he gasped, and she turned her head, licking her lips as he sped up, his mouth falling open.
He wrapped a hand around her neck and she felt the steady thrum of her pulse become richer, the air leaving her lungs as he fucked her senseless. She felt herself begin to fade away, disappear into the sensations as he went still, coming deep inside her.
He let go and she sucked in a breath, the tingling of the oxygen returning delicious and the damn closest thing to perfect…
“Fuck,” she breathed, and Steve pulled her closer, resting inside her as their breathing returned to normal, sweat cooling Darcy’s skin.
Chapter 15: Steve/Darcy - Uniforms
This is short and cute and I do not condone sexual harassment in the workplace. So don't @ me.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“Hey. Darcy. Hello?”
Darcy glanced at Jane, who was snapping her fingers in front of Darcy’s face to get her to focus. It wasn’t Darcy’s fault that the windows were so big, showing all of the grounds surrounding the labs. She couldn’t lie – she knew it wasn’t the first time she’d been distracted by people walking across the grass while she sat at her computer. It was the first time that she’d missed an entire half of a conversation Jane was trying to have with her, though.
“You need something to wipe the drool off of your chin?” Jane added dryly.
Darcy narrowed her eyes slightly, pointing at her boss. “Rude. I call rudeness.”
“Why don’t you ask him out?”
Darcy scoffed. “Um, okay, Jane. I’ll do that. After, I’ll go find Tony Stark as well and demand a pay rise, shall I? Jeepers creepers…”
Jane’s gaze followed Darcy’s, both of them ogling Steve Rogers now as he walked on, his eyes on his phone in his hand.
“Now who’s drooling?” Darcy muttered, and Jane shot her a look.
“Okay, fair. But I still think you could get his number,” she said, turning away to pick up her marker, moving to write something on the interactive whiteboard. She pointed at Darcy, adding hastily: “And by that I mean get his number with his consent, not by means of hacking the SHIELD mainframe. Again.”
“Ah, you beat me to it,” Darcy said in a pseudo-wistful tone, snapping her fingers. “I was about to get onto the Pentagon, too, about eliminating fucking Daylight Savings…”
“You know that has nothing to do with the Pentagon,” Jane retorted, shaking her head, but she was smirking.
“They would put me onto the right people.”
Steve stopped in his tracks and Darcy’s eyebrows hiked.
“What, did he drop something and he’s backing his ass up?” Jane muttered.
Darcy frowned, and Jane came to her side, both of them watching Steve with baited breath. He dropped his phone to his side, turning his head in the direction of the labs.
“Oh, shit,” Darcy hissed, turning away. “Pretend like we’re laughing about something, ah ha ha ha ha…”
“He’s not buying it!” Jane said, though she was forcing a laugh, touching Darcy’s shoulder.
Darcy felt the heat rise in her cheeks, seeing Steve keep walking on in the corner of her eye and both women stopped laughing abruptly, Jane squinting after him.
“Still think I should ask for his number?” Darcy muttered.
Steve walked by again a few days later, wearing his tactical suit. Darcy sipped her coffee, her eyes trained on him, seeing the sun hit his blond hair, his crown glowing.
“Oof, you know that saying about men in uniform?” Darcy asked Jane without looking.
Her boss let out a short sigh. “No, Darcy. I have never heard a saying about men in uniform. Do tell me, since I’m not busy right now, you know, working…”
“Janice from finance probably has a better view from her office,” Darcy said, turning her head slightly, only for a second to not miss anything. “Whenever I go up to see her in payroll, she’s got a front row –”
“You know who you should see pretty soon?” Jane cut in. “Lauren. From HR. Because of an impending sexual harassment claim.”
“I’m not sexually harassing him,” Darcy muttered. “I happen to be looking out the window when he’s there. And I like what I see, but do I bother him about it? No.”
“You bother me about it,” Jane said under her breath, flipping a page in her notebook.
“Have you resorted to Googling his name and printing out his picture to put all over the inside of your locker yet?” Jane teased, and Darcy didn’t even grant her a cursory look.
It was a ritual every afternoon now. Every single afternoon Darcy would watch him walk across the grass, heading to training or wherever, and he’d be wearing his tac suit, his head bowed deep in thought. Darcy knew it was pathetic. It was pathetic long ago, but now she was actually feeling worse.
“Not ye-et,” Darcy sing-songed, despite feeling bad.
“Don’t use too many printing credits, because I will not let you borrow my card…”
Darcy nodded vaguely, watching Steve move out of sight. She sighed, turning away from the window.
He didn’t show up the next day and Darcy was glad Jane didn’t say a word. The data entry was gruelling, and she knew she’d start nodding off soon if she didn’t have a break. Having Steve to look at every afternoon helped break up the monotony, and Darcy wondered what he was up to. Not that is was any of her business. She gave a soft groan, putting her face in her hands, leaning forward in her chair until she hit the monitor with her forehead.
There was a knock.
Darcy’s eyes darted to the source of the deeper, masculine voice and saw Steve Rogers standing at in the doorway to the labs. She glanced at Jane, whose eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline.
“Hi,” Jane said, drawing out the word. “Can I help you?”
“I wanted to… talk to Darcy,” Steve said to Jane, and then his eyes swung to Darcy.
She felt herself blush, and her stomach dropped. Oh, God. This was it – he was going to tell her to stop watching him like a depraved little creep. He probably already spoke to HR. It would get out that she watched him for ten days in a row. She would never, ever live this down.
“Uh, sure,” she babbled, standing up from her desk. Her hip hit the small table with a distinct thud and she winced, ducking out of her office space to follow him.
She glanced at Jane, who was giving her a thumbs-up and Darcy mouthed:
The two women swatted at each other until Darcy slipped out the door, falling into step with Steve. They walked out into the fresh air and Darcy felt the sun on her skin as her heart raced.
“I… meant to come by earlier,” he said, and she glanced up at him, holding his gaze.
It was intimidating. He was way more handsome up close. His intense blue eyes took her in, his gaze dipping to her hands. Darcy was cracking her knuckles without realizing it and she dropped her hands to her sides as they walked on.
“How come?” she mumbled, and Steve ducked his head, giving a short laugh.
“My buddy Sam.”
Darcy tried to not visibly react again, nodding. When she didn’t say anything, Steve pressed on:
“He saw you… uh, looking.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, nodding. “Yeah…”
“So for the last few days I meant to put a name to a face, I’ve just been chickenshit, I guess…”
That confused Darcy and she glanced up at him again, tilting her head.
“When did your buddy Sam see me?”
“Last week,” he replied, and Darcy’s eyebrows hiked. “Yeah. Chickenshit.”
Steve had been walking past the labs for days knowing that Darcy watched him. Her stomach twisted and she passed her hand over her face before holding it up, and they stopped walking.
“Listen – I’m sorry,” she said, and she felt herself flush some more. “I… need to settle down. I’ll stop being such a freak, but I can’t guarantee I won’t have a complete mental breakdown if HR hears about this –”
“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” he cut in, and he began to laugh. “Darcy, I… put off askin’ you out. I… saw you in the kitchens last month.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. “W-what?”
They both laughed, and she was so relieved, and confused – how had she not noticed him looking at her last month?
“I’m lost,” she murmured. “I would have noticed you –”
“Okay, I lied,” Steve blurted. “I saw you through the kitchen window when I was walkin’ back after a mission. It was two in the mornin’.”
“Jane was pulling another all-nighter,” Darcy murmured, and Steve nodded.
“So… you’re not in trouble,” Steve said, and Darcy nodded. “Unless you want to be.”
Oh. Oh. Darcy felt herself blush again and she melted, giggling.
“I… I’m tempted to ask what you mean…”
He smiled wider, and she could see some color in his cheeks. “You busy tonight?”
Hours later Steve carried her down her hallway to her bedroom as they kissed, Darcy sighing against him as his tongue slipped between her lips.
They got dinner an hour ago and spent the time since then flirting and telling each other stories under the stars, Darcy’s knee swinging and bumping his. Things escalated from there, hence Steve pushing her bedroom door open with his boot. She’d specifically asked him to keep the suit on during their little date, which made him blush.
He lay her down on her bed, pulling her into another kiss, and Darcy dug her fingers into his hair as they rocked together. Seconds later, he was tugging at her shirt and pulling it off, his mouth trailing down to her chest, sucking at her skin and latching onto a nipple when he pushed the material of her bra cup aside.
“God,” he gasped, and Darcy bit her lip as she smiled. He was so cute, and so responsive. She loved that he didn’t hold back his enthusiasm, and she could feel his erection pressing into her thigh as he nuzzled at her skin in the soft lamp light.
“I want you,” she whispered and he drew back, his lips parted and wet. She caught him in a rushed, sloppy kiss that had him groaning into her mouth, making her cunt clench with anticipation.
He moved his hands down her front to grab at the waistband of her leggings and tugged them down, Darcy’s hips lifting to help him. Her hands went to the pants of his tac suit, her movements clumsy and fast. He chuckled softly, moaning when she managed to get her hand inside and stroke him.
He gave a little gasp and Darcy smiled at him, pulling him toward her by his shaft until he settled between her hips. He dipped inside her and Darcy tilted toward him, encouraging him, until he sunk into her, their eyes locking.
He worked himself inside her with a few short thrusts, and Darcy felt so full, her eyes fluttering shut as they began to rock.
“Chickenshit, huh?” she whispered, and Steve laughed, breathless and happy in her ear.
Her hands thread through his hair and she opened her eyes, glancing between them to watch him disappear inside her, his suit rubbing against her bare skin.
Chapter 16: Darcy/Bucky - Nipple Play
I wrote about half of this weeks ago with no direction, but then I dug it up for today.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“What’s a… what’s a ‘thot’?”
Bucky glanced up from his book, seeing the crease in Steve’s brow. Soon he’d be tilting his head, staring into space for a couple seconds before someone took pity on him, like Sam for instance.
“You mean, like a ‘thought’?” Bucky grunted, looking back at his page.
He’d read a couple hundred pages of A Court of Thorns and Roses, and he still couldn’t decide if he was enjoying it or not. Sam sat beside him on the couch, watching their exchange with a smirk on his face.
“Nope. T-H-O-T,” Steve muttered. “Should I Google it?”
“It means, ‘that hoe over there’,” Sam murmured, the TV remote in his hand. He kept turning it over three different sports channels. He tutted. “What? That’s a foul. Come on!”
“Is that bad?” Steve said, frowning some more.
“Depends,” Sam replied, and he groaned at the referee. “Dude’s not even watching the same game as me!”
Bucky closed his eyes briefly, closing his book but using his finger to mark the page.
“I’ve read the same sentence five times. Stevie, give us context.”
Steve shrugged. “Darcy called Tony a thot and then a thottie in the group chat.”
Sam began to laugh. “I forgot about that!”
“I’m guessin’ it’s makin’ fun of his choice of attire for the party tonight?” Steve added, and he was smirking too, seeming to understand the joke. “His tight shirt and tie combo?”
“Pot callin’ the kettle black,” Bucky muttered, getting up from the couch with his book, determined to go read in his bedroom. “You never wear shit in the right size.”
Steve quirked a brow at Bucky’s retreating back.
“For that, I’m definitely makin’ you come tonight.”
Bucky left his door ajar and settled on his bed, opening the book up once more. The threat was an empty one – there was no way he was going to the party tonight. It wasn’t his scene. It wasn’t because he was afraid of crowds or something – he’d got a lot better at that in the last couple of years back in New York – he honestly preferred doing boring things he hadn’t done since before the war.
Darcy called him a homebody. It meant he preferred being indoors, keeping to his place, doing comfort-based activities. There wasn’t anything wrong with that. Bucky hated he got defensive about it, too, like he should be blowing off steam constantly.
The book was Darcy’s. She’d loaned it to him the last time he saw her – that morning, specifically. She said the sequel was better, but he had to read the first book to appreciate it. Bucky took her advice, simply because she’d never steered him wrong before.
After half an hour more of reading, Bucky heard a soft knock on his door. He glanced up, seeing Steve with his hand raised.
“You gotta be shittin’ me,” Bucky retorted, and he laughed. The years hadn’t made Steve less annoying. If anything, he’d gotten worse.
“No, I ain’t.”
“Darcy will be there.”
There it was. It happened every time, and every time Bucky didn’t rise to the bait, he simply gave Steve a long look, never backing down. He knew Steve had his best interests at heart, but Bucky figured Darcy didn’t see him that way. He was pretty convinced she had a thing for Sam, actually. He wondered why nothing came of that.
“Good for her,” Bucky replied. “I’ll be here. Readin’.”
Steve rolled his eyes and walked off, smiling. Bucky settled back, turning a page. About ten minutes later, Bucky heard another knock and he glared at the source of the sound, seeing Sam standing in the doorway this time.
“So… big night. Book open. Maybe some tunes? A bubble bath, maybe?”
Bucky knew Sam was only half teasing. He was the one who told Bucky to occasionally splurge on aromatherapy and candles. He sent him a meditation playlist one other time.
Bucky looked back at the page under his nose.
“Yeah. You got a problem with that?”
“Nah. Just thought you’d like a beer, maybe talk about the book you’re reading with someone,” Sam said, and Bucky’s eyes snapped to his.
“Wouldn’t wanna steal your thunder.”
“What, with Lewis?” Sam said. He snorted. “Last I heard, she’s had a soft spot for the older types of guys ‘round here. Older and clueless.”
Bucky stared. “Really?”
“Yeah. Dumbass,” Sam said over his shoulder, walking off.
Bucky let that sink in, hearing the front door open and shut. He put the book down, sure he was damaging the spine. He sat for a few minutes, contemplating the last several days, staring down at the book cover.
There was a knock in the distance and he came back to the present, getting up from the bed, walking through the apartment to the front door. He put his eye to the little peephole and saw a pair of red lips and big blue eyes staring up at him.
“Buck? It’s me.”
His heart began to race and his hand hovered above the doorknob while he considered bailing. She knocked a few times again.
He wrenched the door open and she stood there with her fist still raised, frozen. Her lips parted in shock before morphing into a smile.
“Hey,” he replied, a little gruff. He cleared his throat. “Thought you’d be at the party.”
“The second Sam and Steve showed up without you, I knew I’d have to bring the party to you,” she replied, and she ducked under his arm and walked into the apartment. He held the door for a few more seconds before shutting it, running a hand through his hair.
She smelt good, she was wearing some kind of perfume that she spritzed on nights like this one. She smelt of jasmine. Bucky always associated the flower with her now. She’d managed to get in his head in more ways than one, and he had more than a couple sensory memories associated with her. He remembered the time her hair got caught in the plates of his cybernetic arm, and the struggle it was to untangle her from him without causing too much pain. Her hair was soft, and like now it was in one long wave down her back.
He was trying to believe her, that she’d come by to see him specifically. His mind was still caught on his presumptions being way off – that she didn’t have a crush on Sam.
“How’s the book?” she asked, and he blinked a couple times before he remembered.
“Oh,” he said. “Okay, I guess.”
“Hmm, I thought so,” she said with a little smile. “I promise it gets better.”
There was an awkward pause and Bucky watched her circle the living room. She wore a more dressed-up version of her regular clothes – instead of sneakers or boots she wore mules with brass details on the front, standing around an inch taller. Her jeans were deep navy and fitted, moulding to every curve of thigh and ass. Her sweater was cashmere and framed her chest perfectly. She looked like she’d be soft to the touch and Bucky’s hand itched to do just that, and they flexed at his side as he swallowed hard.
“Look, I’m not – I’m not great at patience,” she said, and Bucky watched her begin circling again, and he realized she was nervous. She paused mid-step, pivoting to face him with a safe distance between them. “I know it’s a virtue. Patience.”
“Overrated, though. It’s fucking overrated,” she said, and she was smiling, still a little unsure.
“Yeah,” Bucky said, trying to return a smile. His stomach was flipping. “Fuckin’ overrated.”
“Good, so you won’t mind if -?”
He cut her off, hoping to wipe her clear of any doubt she had, taking the few steps toward her. He rose his hands to take hold of her, cradling her face as he kissed her. Darcy made a surprised little sound against his lips and then her hands went to either side of his face, tugging him down.
Bucky pulled back with a soft smack of his lips, only to kiss her softer with his eyes open. Darcy had got bright red and she smiled up at him.
“God, I’ve wanted to do that forever,” Bucky murmured, and she smiled wider, the gap in her teeth showing.
“Me, too,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to scare you…”
They kissed again, soft little moans escaping as they grab at one another. Bucky hissed as Darcy’s teeth nipped at his lips, the want in her touch sharp enough that he’s hard in seconds, wrestling with her while they’re still upright, until –
They stumbled and Bucky landed beneath her on floor, Darcy’s giggles filling his ears as he tried to make sense of the new location. He tugged Darcy so she slotted against him, rolling them so he was on top of her, mouthing at her neck, his hands reaching under her sweater.
“This okay?” he whispered, and Darcy sighed happily, nodding.
He tugged at the material and she lifted her arms, pulling it off to reveal a little camisole covering her bra underneath. He dove to suck at the creamy skin of her collar bones, Darcy’s breath hitching as he made his descent to her bra cups.
He pushed one cup down enough to release her nipple, his tongue circling the pebbled skin, latching onto her a second later.
“God,” Darcy gasped, and her hands dug into his scalp, her lips rocking into his. “That feels so good…”
Bucky hummed, sucking on her while his hand reached into her other bra cup, kneading her other nipple. He tugged between his teeth, enough that Darcy gave another gasp, an unintelligible word ebbing from her lips. He kept at it, licking her, sucking her tits and giving the occasional bite and Darcy kept rocking against him, trying to tug him off of her before retreating and letting it happen.
“Bucky,” she whispered. “Thought this might be a… a No Pants party…”
He pulled off of her nipple with an audible pop. “No Pants party?”
He kept his mouth open, circling her with his tongue, their eyes locking when Darcy tilted her head slightly.
“Yeah… I brought a condom.”
He felt his hips buck of their own accord and he groaned, closing his eyes for a second as he nipped at her skin.
“Bit presumptuous?” Darcy said, a teasing lilt to her tone.
Bucky glanced up at her, hissing. “Fuck, no.”
Her hands went between them and she popped the button of her jeans, lifting her hips. Bucky moved off of her to help pull them down. He could see the pink marks where the seams had dug into her skin, and he could see her patch of pubic hair that dented the material of her underwear.
The jeans were a bitch to tug off her ankles. Darcy grunted, kicking them off eventually with Bucky helping her. She held up a little yellow wrapper, triumphant.
“Come here,” Bucky whispered, and he scooped her up, her thighs wrapping around him as they moved out of the living room and down the hallway to Bucky’s bedroom.
He felt around for the lock in case they had an intruder, but he knew if anyone were to barge into the apartment and saw a pair of women’s jeans on the floor, they’d have the good sense to butt out immediately.
They made out for a while, rolling around under the covers, until Darcy grabbed his cock through his underwear, her eyes blown with lust as she stared up at Bucky. Taking away their underwear before Bucky unwrapped the condom, Darcy’s gaze went straight to his cock and it twitched toward her.
“Told you it was a party,” she whispered, and Bucky took hold of himself, his other hand on her breast. “And patience is –”
The air left her in a sharp gasp as he pushed inside her, her cunt tight and warm, his lip between his teeth.
“Fuck, yeah,” he moaned, the words spilling out of him. “Overrated, fuck…”
“Bucky,” she gasped, and he began to move.
He couldn’t keep quiet, she felt so good. He wanted to stay this way forever, in this moment, his blood buzzing, his balls already tight as he fucked her in long strokes, their foreheads bumping. He wasn’t sure how long he’d last, hence the kissing and tit-sucking going on for longer than Darcy wanted…
“Tell me how to… make you come,” he whispered, and he went still, trying to slow it down, to process everything properly before it was over. He tugged her closer, letting himself fall back so that Darcy straddled his lap.
His head was half off the bed, Darcy’s eyes widening as he shifted inside her, bumping her at a new angle. He leaned forward, capturing her nipple and sucking as Darcy began to grind.
Her mouth fell open, her brow furrowing. Her hand went between them but Bucky intercepted her, brushing her clit with his thumb, feeling is resolve begin to crumble.
Darcy tensed, gripping him so tight that Bucky gave a broken moan against her breast, his vision turning white as he came.
He fell back against the mattress a couple seconds later, panting as Darcy pulled off, flopping down beside him. Darcy turned her head to give him a fond and slow kiss, before ducking out of the bedroom as Bucky tied off the condom and tossed it in the trash.
He crawled under the covers and Darcy returned, picking up the book that had toppled to the floor in their haste. She slipped under the covers, Bucky’s arm wrapping around her shoulder to pull her closer.
“What page did you get up to?”
“Two-hundred and something…”
“Wow, you read fast,” Darcy murmured, turning a few pages, Bucky’s lips brushing her temple.
“I do okay.”
Darcy giggled. “I’ll read you some sexy parts.”
“A No Pants and Reading party?” he murmured, one hand going to squeeze her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple.
He was rewarded with a greedy kiss, Darcy’s eyes bright.
Don't get it it twisted, I thought once upon a time that I'd be one of those "Sarah J. Maas owns this ass" type of fans but I'm objectively right about A Court of Mist and Fury being better than its predecessor...
Chapter 17: Darcy/Bucky - Masturbation
This was entirely sarahbeniel's idea.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Darcy threw back her head, rolling her eyes as Bucky gave a low chuckle that sounded like a rumble from deep within his broad chest.
“God, how much longer?” she whined, and FRIDAY promptly replied:
“ETA is in two hours, forty-eight minutes.”
“I can’t play anymore games of Boggle,” Darcy muttered, tossing her phone on the carpet with a soft thud. She crossed her arms, Bucky's eyes watching her.
“You don’t wanna watch another movie?”
“No!” Darcy said, eyes widening. “It’s one of those ‘I’m twitchy, feeling trapped’ kinda boredoms, y’know?”
She remembered who she was talking to, her dear friend who had been in HYDRA captivity for decades and she cringed.
“Fuck. I meant –”
“I know what you meant, Darce, it’s fine,” he cut in, raising his cybernetic hand.
She appreciated him saving her from that faux pas and nodded, clearing her throat. Bucky was flipping through the channels, the plane occasionally dipping. The turbulence was more noticeable when Darcy wasn’t distracted by other things.
“You want another soda?” Bucky asked, and Darcy met his gaze, shrugging. “Unless you’ve had enough, since you kept racin’ off to the bathroom earlier.”
Darcy frowned, and then she realized what he meant. “Oh! No… I didn’t need the bathroom.”
A beat, and Bucky blinked, the remote still raised in his grip.
“What were you doin’?”
Darcy put her chin in her hands, leaning forward in her chair, sighing.
“What, you never beat off to pass the time?”
Bucky blinked, eyes swinging to the TV.
“Can’t say I haven’t,” he replied eventually.
Darcy knew from the outside that this conversation wasn’t appropriate, but she didn’t feel embarrassed around Bucky, and she’d like to think he was the same with her. He was the one she complained the most to about her dating situation. He’s heard about the many times that she’d been stood up or left high and dry. Usually those conversations would turn into them drinking beers and watching TV together. No topic with Bucky seemed to be off limits.
“So you were…”
“Wanking?” Darcy said, and Bucky’s lips quirked.
“Yeah. Were you?”
“Why?” Darcy threw back, and Bucky’s eyes went to her mouth for a second before he swung his gaze back toward the TV screen.
“I’m… surprised I didn’t hear you,” he murmured.
“I ran the faucet the whole time.”
“Wastin’ water, huh?” Bucky muttered, still looking at the screen, not her face.
“FRIDAY recycles it,” she replied, shrugging.
Darcy watched the side of his face, and it was probably the twelfth time that day that she admired his profile. He was a very handsome guy. She couldn’t say her thoughts of him were entirely innocent.
“I might try that out,” Bucky said, and Darcy felt her face flush.
“Yeah, good one…”
She glanced at the screen, regretting the turn the conversation took, the silence beginning to hang heavy over them.
“You wouldn’t consider…” Bucky began, and Darcy snapped her eyes to his. He pinned here there with his steady gaze, unblinking. “Less of a solo solution?”
Darcy snorted, averting her gaze, saying again, “Yeah, good one…”
Bucky put down the remote on the floor beside his chair and stood up, stretching a little, before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Darcy heard him flip on the light, the fan inside beginning to whir. She rubbed her face, sighing a little. It was her own fault, being way too honest. She swallowed, her mouth feeling dry. She kept her eyes on the screen, unsure of what to do. She couldn’t ignore that his teasing got her hopes up a little bit –
A sound cut through the movie that played on the screen, a muffled human sound that Darcy’s brain chose to hone in on. She repeated it in her mind, recognizing it as a moan. She went very still, waiting.
There was another moan, a little louder, and she closed her eyes, pressing her thighs together. She remained seated as she heard the sounds floating from behind the bathroom door, until they stopped. The door opened a couple minutes later and Bucky walked back in, sitting down on the chair beside Darcy’s. She glanced at his face, seeing him push his hair back, and his cheeks looked different, sort of pink and he sighed.
“Did you –” she blurted, and Bucky’s eyes met hers. “I mean, I – you –”
“Did I just come?” Bucky said, and Darcy felt a flare of arousal, more than sure that his bluntness had made her wet. “Yeah.”
He swung his knee a little as he said it, but Darcy could see in his eyes that he was watching her, checking something. She nodded, giving her lower lip a bite before letting it go.
“I, uh… good. I’m…” Darcy swallowed a couple times, before putting her face in her hands. “Fuck, Bucky.”
She heard him shift in his seat, and then felt hands on her arms, the scent of him enveloping her. She took her hands away, seeing him crowd her into her chair, his hands resting on either side of her as he crouched between her knees.
He leaned toward her, their noses brushing, and Darcy sucked in a breath.
“This better not be a joke,” she whispered, and Bucky gave a short laugh. “I’ll kill you if you’re just playing me.”
“I’m not,” he whispered. “Come on, I’ll show you how much I ain’t kiddin’…”
“Fuck,” Darcy groaned, and she caught his lip between her teeth, her tongue slipping into his mouth.
He moaned, and it was the same sound as before but louder, unadulterated, and Darcy grabbed him by the shirt to get him as close as possible.
“If you were just jerking off, won’t you…?”
“I’ll last longer,” he whispered.
He picked her up off the chair and walked them into the bathroom, setting Darcy down on the sink, her back resting against the mirror. Bucky kissed her hard, his hands going under her shirt, and Darcy moaned.
“Is this actually happening?” she whispered, and Bucky chuckled.
“I hoped it would, sweetheart,” he whispered back, pulling back to search her face. “Unless –?”
Darcy shook her head, fast. “Take your pants off.”
He chuckled again, the creases beside his eyes showing as he moved closer, his mouth falling open when Darcy’s hand ghosted over his crotch, squeezing his shaft through his jeans.
“You’re still hard…”
“Yeah,” he breathed. He began unbuttoning his jeans and Darcy helped with his fly, reaching into his boxers and feeling he was indeed hard, and very warm.
She tried to not overthink the fact that she was holding Bucky’s dick in a bathroom of a SHIELD private jet, instead doing her best at being in the moment, stroking him as he kissed her neck.
Darcy lifted her hips, Bucky’s two hands and her spare one yanking down her leggings, her bottom half exposed to the cool air, and she shivered, moaning when Bucky’s hand went between her naked legs, feeling the wet folds of her cunt.
“C’mere,” he whispered, and he picked her up again, moving them so his cock was rubbing the seam of her, Darcy’s lip between her teeth as he began to sink into her.
It took a few short thrusts for Bucky to be fully seated inside her, his eyes fluttering shut as she tugged him into another kiss, a more languid one that before. Bucky shifted, the new angle making Darcy gasp as he pulled back and pushed into her. She locked her thighs around him, angling her hips to her ideal, Bucky’s panting so delicious in her ears, his cock stretching her enough so the world melted away.
“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he whispered, and they laughed together.
“Go a little harder,” Darcy said, goading him with a suck to his neck, nibbling the skin a second later.
Bucky moaning her name – that was something she would probably never stop wanting to hear. His hips sped up, each smack of their bodies together knocking Darcy into the mirror, their panting filling the air.
She was trapped between Bucky and the mirror, her hand snaking down to reach for her clit, and Bucky watched her play with herself, his eyes glazed with lust. He smiled as she came, her eyes squeezed shut as his hips drove into her, her cunt pulsing as she crashed back down.
“Fuck, yes,” he gasped, laughing as Darcy shook all over, her toes tingling.
He hitched her thigh up higher until her ankle rested against his shoulder, his hips pistoning. They shared a sloppy kiss, Bucky’s hand reaching between them this time, rubbing her. Darcy clenched around him, whimpering.
“Can you gimme another, sweetheart?” he whispered, and she nodded, panting. “Give it to me. Give it –”
Darcy fell apart, yelling as she came, the wetness down her thighs. When she caught her breath she whispered:
“Show me how you touch yourself.”
He pulled out of her, stroking his cock with his flesh hand, hard and fast. Darcy watched him gnaw at his lip with his eyes glued to hers, his cock pink and wet, leaking at the tip.
He dissolved into a growl, and Darcy ducked down from the sink, taking him in her mouth so that his come hit the back of her throat and he moaned, his whole body taut as a wire.
“Fuck,” he panted, and Darcy began to laugh, pleased with herself.
She pulled back, wiping her mouth, both of them panting. Bucky took her face in his hands, kissing her nose.
“FRIDAY, how much longer?” Bucky murmured.
“Two hours and sixteen minutes.”
He grinned down at Darcy, tilting his head.
“How’s that, huh? Not a bad idea for a boredom killer?”
Darcy reached for his spent cock, feeling it begin to fatten once more and she laughed, breathless.
Mile High Club, bitch
Chapter 18: Steve/Darcy - Latex
A sequel to Day 9 - "Lingerie". More Dom!Darcy and Sub!Steve. 😉
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Darcy couldn’t breathe.
Okay, that was a little dramatic. She had difficulty breathing was probably more appropriate. She wondered how the hell women ever managed to do this regularly. Then she remembered that the average life span of a woman who wore corsets on the regular was about forty, at least back in the day.
She found this particular outfit on a website she came across during research. She tried to find a middle ground. She believed, for the most part, you got what you paid for with sex stuff online. She knew not everyone wore this stuff for sexual gratification or scenes, but this was designed specifically to hug every curve, and Darcy liked everything about it – the dramatic story it told, the way it made her feel (powerful, and very cool), and how special it felt to see the notification for the package when it came that morning. She told the mail guy that it was dishwashing tablets. She knew she didn’t have to tell him squat, but she wanted to fib, wanted to feel a little naughty about the purchase.
It was a PVC cat suit with a cinched waist. The corset part of its top half was obviously made for a much smaller chest, and Darcy’s tits were stuffed into the garment as she turned in the mirror, inspecting it. She could send it back, ask for it to be modified. She loved how it looked, even though it felt like when Steve landed on top of her, heavy and suffocating.
With every movement there was a distinct scrunching of the fabric and she snorted, picking up her phone and unlocking it. She wrote out a message to Steve.
Steve’s reply popped up almost immediately, which made Darcy think he was either ignoring some work he was meant to be doing or he was done already and on his way over. Either way, the thrill of anticipation stirred in her belly.
How’s the fit?
Darcy’s typed back swiftly: Tight
She smirked, thinking of how that word would rile him up. She heard a key in the front door and footsteps approaching as she pretended to be preoccupied with her phone.
“You weren’t kiddin’,” came Steve’s voice, and she smiled, his arms wrapping around her middle, looking at her in the mirror, kissing the side of her face.
He closed his eyes, lips moving down the column of her neck and Darcy sighed, feeling him press into her back, the obvious erection he was already sporting after simply glancing at her. It was flattering, and she wanted to saturate herself in the feeling, of being special, of being desired so much.
“I got matching gloves, too,” Darcy whispered, and Steve’s teeth sunk into her skin.
“You should be so lucky,” she retorted, and he pulled back, searching her face.
She committed fast, pressing her hands to his chest and he lowered himself to the carpet, kneeling at her feet. Darcy rose her hands to stroke down his face, her fingers brushing the split lip he sported. He hissed and Darcy saw his eyes flash, showing her his arousal if the tent in his pants hadn’t already.
“Take off your clothes,” Darcy whispered, and he nodded.
She watched him undress, his hands falling to his belt and unbuckling it, pulling everything down, kicking things aside. He tugged off his shirt and t-shirt underneath, standing naked as the day he was born before lowering himself again, his eyes bright as he glanced up at her.
He looked eager to please and Darcy offered him a little smile.
“Stay still. I want to get my gloves.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied softly, and Darcy could detect it in his tone, the undercurrent of ‘I love you’ and ‘I love that I do this with you’, and she couldn’t stop her heart from soaring.
Darcy turned away, and he made a little sound that sounded like barely contained longing. She knew he was getting a nice view of her ass in the suit. She picked up the gloves from inside one of the drawers their toys sat it and she carefully pulled them on. She placed her hands on her hips and walked back over, tilting her head at him as if she was contemplating a problem.
She glanced down at his cock that stood at attention and it twitched.
“That for me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, his hands flat against his thighs.
Darcy thought this over, before turning abruptly on the spot and walked back to the toys drawer, opening it and inspecting the contents. She pulled out a little vibrating bullet and held it up.
“Remember the last time I used this?”
“Yes,” Steve whispered, and his cheeks went pink. “Yes, ma’am…”
She grabbed lifted up a little bottle of lube and gave him a crooked smile, and she watched his throat bob, his lips parting.
“If I put this inside you again, you’d probably never stop coming…”
Steve nodded. “Yes, ma’am…”
Darcy chuckled, moving back toward him.
“You know the rules,” she murmured, pressing the bottom of the little red bullet with her thumb so that it activated, vibrating in her hand. She reached to touch the very tip of it to Steve’s left nipple and he moaned between clenched teeth. She took it away. “You have to earn it.”
She smacked him across the face with the back of her hand, feeling the sting along her knuckles. Steve gasped, flinching away from her before turning his face up for more.
“Would you come if I yanked on your nipple?” she whispered, and Steve ducked his gaze.
“Probably?” she repeated, and she leaned down to do just that and he moaned, his hands flexing on his thighs as Darcy twisted him. “We both know for a fact that you’d be begging me…”
Steve seemed to be holding his breath, his eyes squeezing shut. When Darcy went still, not touching him at all, he opened his eyes again.
“Right?” she said, and he nodded.
“Yes, ma’am. Definitely…”
Darcy made a smug little sound, watching him put himself back together, try and hold back the pleasure and pain. She took a step back, hands on her hips again, a smile spreading on her face.
“Please?” Steve murmured, and she tilted her head.
“Please what? Use your words,” she said, and Steve glanced at the bullet, swallowing a couple times.
She moved far enough back that the backs of her knees hit the mattress and she leaned back, pulling her knees up and spread them wide, keeping herself propped up on her elbows, her tits almost brushing her chin.
Steve moved up but Darcy was quicker, and she loved it – loved to see the defeat on his face when her shoe hit his forehead, pushing him back. He gave a low plaintive sound and she tutted.
“I didn’t say you could touch. Maybe I’ll use this bullet on me and make you watch…”
He didn’t back down so she pressed harder to make her point.
He obeyed, licking his lips as he sat back down, and Darcy could see his cock was throbbing, precome leaking onto his thighs. Steve had amazing legs. A great ass, certainly, but people didn’t talk enough about his legs.
Darcy reached behind her back, skimming down to the tiny zipper on her backside, tugging it partway down. She peeled off enough to expose her cunt and some of her thighs, Steve’s eyes going straight between her legs, his throat bobbing.
“Get up here, now,” she snapped, and Steve moved toward her as if on instinct and Darcy grabbed him by his scalp, yanking hard enough that he moaned, pushing his face into her cunt.
His tongue was hot and sliding up to her clit, and he sucked like he was starved, moaning as Darcy rubbed against him, using his mouth. She kept him there until he needed to take a breath – and for an enhanced human like Steve, that was a long time. By the time she let go off him, his face was soaked and he was panting, already going in for more, without prompting.
She pushed him back, and he looked confused, before Darcy scooted back on the bed covers, pulling her cat suit pants all the way off, until they were caught on her ankles and she yanked them off with impatience.
“It’s not enough, get up here,” she said, and he climbed onto the mattress, and Darcy took hold of his shoulders.
She turned them so he was beneath her and she threw a leg over him, taking hold of his cock a second later, and she was reward with his sharp inhale, his head falling back onto the covers. Darcy lowered herself onto him, her hips beginning to grind.
When Steve’s hands went to her hips she snatched them away, pinning them above his head.
“When I want you to touch me I’ll tell you to.”
“I wanna… make you come,” he moaned, and she felt him buck into her and she stopped moving completely, just to see what he’d do.
He went still, his eyes closing.
Darcy grinned, and she moved her head down to brush her nose against his.
“So then pin me down and fuck my brains out.”
His eyes lit up and he pressed his heel into the mattress, rolling them so Darcy was beneath his broad chest with her nipples almost bursting out of the cups. Steve shoved inside her, both of them groaning.
“You feel so good,” Steve breathed, and Darcy began to laugh, but then she coughed –
Steve leaned back, his hands tugging at the corset, helping her untie it to shove it off. They lay back down, breathless, and Steve kissed her, sloppy and hurried.
“Do you think… we could still use… the vibrator?”
Darcy pulled back, seeing Steve’s hopeful face, the blotches of pink on his adorable face. She nodded, tugging his cut lip between her thumb and forefinger, until he nipped at her thumb, smiling down at her.
Chapter 19: Darcy/Bucky - Public & Formal Wear
Yet again this fic was sarahbeniel's idea. I was going to have this be set on Earth at someone else's wedding (lame) and she told me to make it Asgard with traditional robes (cool).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Darcy flopped down onto the arm of the couch, glancing at the TV in front of Bucky before she looked at him, seeing he was watching a movie.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked, and Bucky’s head turned slightly, barely giving her enough attention to assure her he was actually listening.
“Why?” he grunted, and Darcy’s mouth spread into a smirk.
“Jesus. Why the animosity?”
“Because the last time you roped me into somethin’ I was draggin’ your refrigerator down a flight of stairs in Queens.”
Darcy tilted her head, pretending it was a struggle for her to dredge up that memory when in all honesty she thought about that incident every couple of days to get herself through the week because it was so fucking funny. She could picture the look on Bucky’s face when she told him the elevator was out of service, and she could hear the pitch of his voice when he nearly fell down the stairs. It wasn’t something she was proud of, but he’d done worse to her. All she had to say was the phrase on my birthday and he’d put his face in his hands.
“You don’t need to help me move this time. I am happy living in the Tower,” she replied, holding up a hand to assure him. “I need a date to the wedding.”
Bucky frowned, ignoring the TV, crossing his arms. “That thing’s tomorrow?”
“That thing? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea how exclusive this event is?” Darcy said, laughing a little, incredulous. “This is like the SpaceX of weddings. I could auction off my plus-one and never work again. I could buy this building and turn every floor into a ball pit.”
Bucky closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head. “I have no idea what you just said.”
Darcy moved to slip into the space beside Bucky, crossing one leg over the other. “I’ll walk you through it. Tomorrow, I go to Asgard. That afternoon, Jane and Thor get married in front of the loyal subjects of Asgard. I will be there as one of Jane’s guests. I can bring someone along.”
“What,” Darcy said.
“Why ask me to go with you?” Bucky asked.
“Because you’re my friend and this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and you will appreciate space and Asgard, like, are you kidding me?”
Bucky pursed his lips, considering this. “What’s the catch?”
“Catch?” Darcy repeated. “Space travel isn’t enough of an incentive? What about…”
She glanced at the TV, seeing Veronika Lake. She smirked.
“Asgardian maidens all amped up on those good wedding feelings, my dude. My guy, my fella –”
“I got it,” Bucky cut in, raising one hand to stop her.
“Good,” she replied. She could see he was trying to not smile at her smugness, pressing his lips together.
Three texts came in the middle of dinner.
What about a suit, I don’t have one
I asked FRIDAY what a ball pit is
Can we get one – who do we talk to about that
It made Darcy smile as she twirled her spaghetti on her fork, before one more popped up that had her laughing out loud:
Seriously, do you know someone who can get a ball pit put in?
Darcy met with Bucky in the foyer of the Tower, sans suit, her arms crossed when he walked over to her, his eyes landing on the taco illustration on her t-shirt.
“Let’s taco bout it. Get it?” she said.
“Why is it wearin’ a sombero?” he muttered. “And a monocle? Seems like overkill.”
“Don’t overthink it,” she replied. She glanced at the clock on her phone before tucking it in her jeans back pocket. “You ready? Thor’s gatekeeper should be summoning us any second now.”
“Sure,” he said, sighing a little. “I mean, at this point, am I supposed to be surprised by anythin’ or -?”
His rant was abruptly cut off as blinding light flooded Darcy’s vision, the foyer evaporating. It was the longest couple of seconds of her life, before reality came back to her, and she stumbled, feeling arms catch her. She blinked around, seeing a figure standing with his broad arms crossed, his eyes large and golden.
“Yes. You are Darcy Lewis,” he replied, and she beamed at him. “Welcome.”
Bucky dropped one hand, his flesh one still holding Darcy’s elbow, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d stumbled or it was to prevent himself from keeling over. She pointed at him, still looking at Heimdall.
“This is Bucky. We’re here for the wedding.”
“Will you be… joining us?” Darcy said, her grin still wide.
She heard Bucky clear his throat and she shot him a look.
“What? I’m being friendly…”
Bucky began to steer her away and she waved behind them, Heimdall’s expression the same, just watching them walk across the stone floors. Darcy thread her fingers through Bucky’s, looking around as they walked through the giant doorway, hearing music coming from beyond.
“You good?” she asked, as Bucky had gone quiet, and she glanced up at him to read his face.
His eyes were wider and he was looking around, and Darcy smiled. She knew he’d appreciate it.
“Heimdall’s hot,” she said, and he frowned at her. “What? That guy – I’d climb him like a tree…”
“Sure you need me as your date?” he muttered, but he still held her hand, their footfalls echoing as they walked down a corridor. “Where are we goin’?”
“Last time I was here, I went down this hall and found Thor pretty quickly. I don’t think they’re the type to renovate that often. Maybe every few thousand years…”
They walked past high stain-glassed windows that made Bucky stare, and Darcy tugged him along, glancing around for any familiar faces.
Jane stood in an alcove, and she broke into a jog to catch Darcy in a fierce hug. She pulled back, glancing at Bucky.
“It’s always a lot,” she murmured, and Bucky’s eyes snapped to hers. “The first time. It feels like a dream.”
“You’re tellin’ me…” Bucky muttered, a little smile playing on his lips.
“We’ve got an hour until the ceremony,” Jane said, and Darcy saw the briefest sign of her nervousness, her boss’ hands balling into fists. “You guys need to wash up.”
Darcy pretended to be deadly serious, leaning forward and speaking in a stage-whisper:
“Can I have my hair in Princess Leia space buns?”
Jane narrowed her eyes at her. “No. Please keep the Star Wars references to a minimum. As well as all the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings ones, and Game of Thrones.”
“Right,” Darcy replied, doing a finger gun.
“This is really important,” Jane said, and Darcy nodded. “Darcy, I’m serious.”
“Shouldn’t have invited me,” Darcy threw back with a little grin. “Can you imagine what I’m going to be like when you finally do this on Earth with a bachelorette party, too?”
Jane shook her head, her eyes widening. “Hell, no. You are not in charge of that. My cousin Lydia will be my Maid of Honor –”
“Okay, Jane,” Darcy said, and she caught her wrists, moving closer to her, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I promise that everything will be fine. Including today.”
Jane let out a little sigh, her breath shaky. “Okay. I need to go scream in a pillow or something and then get back to the maids.”
Darcy tried not to snort as Jane hurried off, leaving Bucky and her alone in the corridor with a guard who walked by holding a spear.
“What're we supposed to be wearin’?” Bucky muttered.
The maids called the mirror ‘the looking glass’, which evoked a supernatural tone over the process of Darcy’s transformation. She shed her taco t-shirt, scuffed Converse and torn up Levi’s for a gown fit for Cersei Lannister – except she knew Jane wouldn’t appreciate the comparison as much as her. The gown itself was gold and deep maroon in color, with a cape down the back that made her shoulders look sharp and elegant. Darcy’s silhouette reminded her of a fishtail gown out of a Golden Age movie she’d seen Bucky watching. It was like Rita Hayworth went to live in King’s Landing.
She’d never worn something like this before. At prom she’d been the one to wear gaudy tulle gowns with Doc Martens underneath. She dressed for comfort. She knew how important this was for Jane, so she wasn’t about to ruin the aesthetic. Her hair was washed and curled, her mane falling in a long wave over her shoulder, her glasses stowed away. When she was whisked away earlier she was sure she’d hate the process, but the women helping her made her feel at home, and she hoped that Jane was not panicking as much.
The New York wedding coming up was for the rest of the humans in Jane’s life. This Asgardian ceremony was not legally binding, at least by Earth standards. Darcy knew this one meant the most, because it was Thor’s home, and Jane was the first human to marry an Asgardian, as far as they knew.
Darcy felt the excitement butterflies in her stomach and she was handed a bouquet of flowers she didn’t recognize by one of the maids who finished her lipstick minutes before.
“What are these?”
“Lady Jane said they weren’t on Midgard,” the maid replied. “But it’s like a… what did she say? A tiger lily?”
“Oh,” she murmured. She leaned forward to smell it. It reminded her of jasmine and lavender put together.
She kept sniffing the flower as she left the room, walking down the corridor with some of the maids to the great hall. A crowd had formed outside the large doors and Darcy glanced around, looking for Bucky.
She finally spotted him on the edge of the crowd, and people had begun to move inside the hall when she grabbed Bucky’s sleeve. She only saw him in profile, but she could see his outfit was drastically different to the one he arrived in earlier.
He turned his head, eyes glancing at the source and his brows lifted.
“Whoa. Helen of Troy.”
Darcy scrunched her nose, doing her best to ignore the way her stomach flipped.
“What? Shut up.”
He kept staring at her, taking a step back and looking up and down.
“I am a guy. And you look…”
“Thanks, I guess,” Darcy muttered, feeling the awkwardness set in.
He looked like he was better suited to Asgard than her, holding himself differently in his new clothes. His black tunic was velvet with silver embroidery, his hair pulled back in a half-up, half-down style, his beard trimmed closer to his skin.
“You look good, too.”
She sounded a little gruff, rolling her eyes.
“I mean – you always do…”
She felt herself blush and she averted her gaze, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She felt Bucky’s eyes still on her and she swung her gaze to meet his once again, tilting her head toward the hall.
“You ready to go in?”
“Yeah,” he replied.
He offered his arm and she took it, and they began to move inside. One of the maids from earlier motioned them to the front row and Darcy felt a wave of nerves, prompted by Odin sitting in front of her, the throne above the crowd gathered. It was intimidating the last time she was there, and this time it was no different. What helped was knowing that she wasn’t the only outsider there, Bucky’s fingers thread through hers as they sat down.
Harp music began to play and heads turned toward the entrance, and Darcy burst into a smile, seeing Thor walk down the aisle and stand at the front.
When he reached the front he turned toward Darcy and waved, before ducking over to hug her.
“You made it, I am so glad,” he whispered, and he pulled back, stroking her face. “And you look so beautiful.”
Darcy felt her eyes mist, Bucky’s hand still squeezing hers. She gestured to him, and Thor shook his hand.
“Thank you, Barnes.”
“I don’t really know what to say, except congratulations.”
“Thank you. Hopefully Jane will arrive soon, unless she’s decided otherwise…”
Thor moved back, and Darcy kept smiling until her face began to hurt and she pressed her lips together, watching the entrance.
“Darce, you’re gonna break my fingers off,” Bucky whispered and Darcy whipped her head toward him, seeing his eyes fall to her mouth.
She swallowed, pulling her hand away from him, brushing it against her gown.
She mirrored him, looking at his full lower lip. She thought about how it would feel, because it looked soft. She glanced up at this eyes, and she felt stuck. Something had shifted, and she finally looked away, seeing Jane standing there, looking like a Greek goddess.
Darcy and Bucky slid into their chairs at the reception, the silence between them heavy.
It had never felt this way before. Darcy felt as though she could do or say anything around Bucky and it wouldn’t make much of a difference, but sitting there now with him, she felt as though he was looking straight through her. It made her fidget in her seat, unsure of what to do or say.
Bucky reached for a gold goblet and poured water into it, placing it in front of Darcy.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He nodded, pouring more water for himself before sipping it, placing it down in front of him. They watched people start to bring food out and Darcy was thankful for the intermission. She tucked into something that tasted a little like turkey and gravy, as well as a little yellow pudding coloured with saffron that tasted of cinnamon. They ate in silence, until Jane came over to hug Darcy and Bucky, encouraging them to get up.
“We’ll start dancing soon,” she said, and Darcy nodded, not sure if she would enjoy it.
She had the idea of bringing Bucky because she didn’t want to be alone. She knew she could give him all types of incentives, but she should have just asked him nicely, been honest with him. She didn’t picture coming with anyone else.
When the dancing finally began, Darcy watched people pair off and move around like at other receptions she’d been to. The music sounded like something from a Renaissance fair, though. She smirked, seeing Jane awkwardly circle with Thor.
Darcy turned her head, and saw Bucky’s gaze was soft and assuring. She’d never danced with him before, but she trusted he had some idea of what he was doing, considering the time he was from. She remembered her great-grandmother’s stories of meeting her fiancé at a dance hall in Queens and how they did it every week.
“Okay,” she replied, taking a deep breath.
She took his arm as they moved toward the dance floor, Darcy’s hands pressing to his chest when they paused, Bucky’s hands lowering.
“Darcy, your waist,” he whispered, and Darcy felt her stomach flip. “You’re so tiny.”
She shifted closer as Bucky’s hands wrapped around her middle, sliding her hands up to rest around his neck. They began to move in a small circle, the other people moving faster. She glanced around at the fellow dancers.
“This bringing back memories?”
“Yeah, a little,” Bucky murmured, and Darcy watched his throat work.
“Is it… painful, or -?”
“No,” he cut in, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I can’t remember the last time I danced… must’ve happened before I shipped out…”
Darcy nodded, and she could see he meant it, he wasn’t distressed. He shifted a little, one hand splaying across her back and Darcy felt her heartbeat pick up, Bucky’s hips settling next to hers. His face was barely inches away from hers, his nose bumping her forehead.
“I’m glad it’s with you, my first dance in a while,” he murmured, and Darcy nodded, unable to speak. “Darcy…”
He held her as they turned together, his voice trailing off. She didn’t prompt him, afraid that if she did it would break the spell. He didn’t initiate hugs that often, and they only occurred during the holidays, usually. Darcy suspected the wedding and the reception dredged up good feelings, so she wasn’t going to take this to heart.
It didn’t help that she shivered when this lips brushed her cheek, a heat pooling in her stomach.
“This okay?” he whispered.
“Mm,” Darcy said, her hands slipping back down to his chest.
The song was forgotten as she waited, Bucky’s face pulling back a little so their noses brushed. Darcy swallowed, taking hold of his tunic when he tilted his head low enough to kiss her. It was slow and tight-lipped, Darcy’s breath hitching as she closed her eyes, and it was over fast. It broke her resolve, and she gripped him tighter, pushing closer for another kiss. She whimpered, tugging his lip between hers, and his tongue slipped into her mouth.
Her Bucky was kissing her, and he seemed to be barely holding back, both of them stopping their dance to kiss feverishly, until Darcy felt someone bump into them and they broke apart.
“Sorry, sorry,” she whispered hastily, feeling her face flush as she stepped back, Bucky’s hand on her waist still, steering her away from the dancing.
They ducked out into the corridor, seeing a few people standing around. Darcy grabbed his hand, tugging him along as she went searching, her hand reaching for random doors they came across. All seemed to be locked.
“Goddamn it,” she hissed, and Bucky came to stop behind her, chuckling, wrapping his arms around her middle. “I’m glad you find it funny.”
“Not really,” he whispered in her ear. “Can you feel how hard I am?”
Darcy’s hand slipped behind her and stopped still, and she groaned, feeling his erection pressing against his pants. She bit her lip hard, thinking of him pulling down his pants and filling her up.
“Fuck,” she whispered. “Let’s keep looking.”
They finally found a little broom cupboard of sorts and Bucky pulled her inside, pressing her against the door a second later, Darcy’s gasp cut off by his consuming kiss. Her hand shifted down the wood of the door and she broke away, huffing.
“Yeah,” he replied, kissing her face, his teeth grazing her throat. Darcy rolled her hips on reflex, closing her eyes.
“Everyone’s busy with the reception, no-one’ll be coming around here anytime soon…”
“I don’t need convincin’, Darce,” Bucky whispered and she gasped, feeling his hands ghost over her chest.
“Good, because I’m about to yank your pants off,” she replied.
He caught her in another kiss, sucking her tongue, his hands in her hair. They went back and forth, their breaths dissolving into ragged pants. Darcy came up for air, and Bucky pressed his mouth to her face, like he couldn’t stop kissing her. He moaned, rocking into her.
“Bucky, baby… I want you…”
He kissed her hard for that, grabbing her, Darcy’s thighs wrapping around him as best she could, her skirts pushed up to her waist. There was a struggle, Bucky’s teeth catching her lip as his pants were pushed down, his hair coming loose in Darcy’s hands. They both went still as his cock brushed her inner thigh, Darcy’s underwear tugged down, hanging off her ankle.
His eyes bore into hers, the hesitation enough to make Darcy’s chest squeeze. She nodded, pulling him into a slow kiss, until she felt the brushing of him over the folds of her cunt. Their mouths wouldn’t close, both of them drawing out the moment, breathing into each other.
“Nothing surprises you anymore?” she whispered, referring to yesterday. It was crazy that only a few hours ago, this was platonic, and she had no idea he could act this way around her. “Are you gonna change your mind when I turn back into a pumpkin?”
He sank into her and Darcy’s eyes widened, the feel of him stretching her overwhelming. He filled her slowly and steadily, his eyes glued to hers.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered, his hips beginning to grind. “You’re the same person as before. I meant to tell you… couldn’t think of when…”
“Did you want to on my birthday?”
Bucky averted his gaze, looking ashamed. “Yeah. And then I chickened out. Got so worked up I got you nothin’…”
“You told me you forgot…”
“No,” he breathed. “I’m sorry…”
She kissed him, hoping to put her feelings into her touch, cradling his face as he began to rock, her back brushing the door with each roll of his hips. Darcy moaned, spurring him on, his hands taking hold of her hips and slamming into her. She welcomed it, Bucky’s face falling between her neck and shoulder, his teeth sinking into her.
He panted, and Darcy moaned, tensing when he reached between them to find her clit, his thrusts hard and knocking her into the door. She loved it, how thoroughly he worked her over, and she clamped down on him, coming with a grunt. Bucky followed soon after, bringing her into a kiss as he spilled inside her, his hand pressing hers against the door above her head.
They separated, a piece of his hair in Darcy’s face and she brushed it away, her feet falling to the floor. She glanced around for something to clean herself with.
“I need a bathroom,” she whispered, and Bucky nodded.
She patted her hair, tried to put herself back together as Bucky tucked himself back in his pants, brushing his tunic.
He tugged her back to him, kissing her, holding her to him.
“When we go home –”
“It’s okay, we don’t have to…”
“Darce, I was gonna say, I can’t wait to do that again,” he whispered.
Darcy felt her stomach flip and she smiled up at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. When we go home I want to stay in bed with you.”
She laughed, biting her lip.
She went to open the door, moving away from him. She gave him one last glance.
“Smells like sex in here. Hope no-one comes by anytime soon.”
He smiled at her, his cheeks flushed, and he looked younger then, and so happy.
Semi-public sex, I guess, by technicality. Also, can you imagine that meeting Darcy will try and organize to get a ball pit?
Darcy doesn’t know how many times she’s seen him but it’s at least half a dozen. They don’t work in the same department, so she was surprised when he moseyed onto the office floor.
She was sure he could wear anything and look good. He tended to dress kind of old-fashioned in his civilian clothes, wearing a tucked in flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled past his sculpted forearms, his slacks creaseless, her gaze drawn to the silver belt buckle. She swallowed, turning a little in her chair, her eyes dipping to his ass as he walked straight past her.
He was making his way toward the large conference room, opening one of the glass doors to slip inside. Darcy tended to miss those meetings because the blinds would be down, but she had a full view of the room now, watching Steve Rogers sit down in a chair, taking out his phone.
She turned her eyes toward her computer screen, sighing. She knew if she kept staring she’d feel pathetic, but her afternoon was dragging.
The landline beside her began to ring and she glanced at the display, seeing the number was simply labelled ‘private’ and she picked up the receiver, putting it to her ear.
“Agent Darcy Lewis speaking.”
“Can I ask why you were staring at my ass just now?”
Darcy went still, feeling her stomach drop, keeping her gaze on the display for a few seconds. She knew that voice. It had a lower timbre than usual, an edge to it that had Darcy turn her head, moving her chair back.
He was staring right at her, his phone to his ear.
“I mean, you kind of just answered your own question.”
She wondered where this was going. She only saw him in vague passing most of the time.
“How’d you get my number?”
“I asked nicely,” he replied, and Darcy saw his lips move, hearing his low voice in her ear. “What are you doing here on a Saturday afternoon, Agent Darcy Lewis?”
He was teasing her. Not patronizing her, just pushing her enough that she didn’t want to hang up. As if she would, but he didn’t know that.
“Report writing. Left this shit to the last minute and it’s due Monday.”
“Ouch,” he said, smirking.
“Why are you here?”
“Meeting. Got here a little early,” he replied. He shifted in his chair to lean an elbow on the long table.
“So you thought you’d talk to me,” she murmured.
He gave a short breath of a laugh and Darcy felt her stomach flip. She liked that she amused him, and he was a welcome distraction. There was a pause, his face changing.
“Since you were looking at my ass, you wouldn’t mind me noticing your legs?”
“You noticed my legs before?” Darcy said, crossing one over the other, her skirt riding up a little from the top of her knees. Her foot bobbed up and down and Steve glanced at them.
“Only my legs?” she added.
She kept her voice levelled, though it was so tempting to be louder. She didn’t want any of her neighbours hearing her. She already had a reputation for being crass and lazy at work.
“No,” Steve replied. He even shook his head as he said it.
Darcy smiled, chuckling. “Is this phone call going anywhere, Steve?”
His smile broadened and she could make out the cheeky glint in his eye. It spurred her on, the desire pooling inside her, her thighs rubbing together for a second as she waited, holding her breath.
“Where would you want it to go, Agent Darcy Lewis?”
Darcy let out a sigh. “Oh, I see. You’re all talk until I cut to the chase.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You’re too polite to say what you mean,” she said, and he blinked, seeming a little surprised. “Or, maybe it’s just your upbringing. Nothing wrong with manners. I’d thank your mother for raising you well if I could –”
“She’d appreciate it.”
“- but you’re probably like most other guys.”
He blinked again, taking the phone away from his ear for a second to emphasise his obvious surprise, which made Darcy giggle. She knew she was stirring the pot, but he was the one who called. She was supposed to be working.
“I’m like most other guys...?”
“I mean, maybe,” Darcy said, shrugging one shoulder.
He didn’t say anything so she made a show of taking the receiver away from her ear, shrugging some more as she moved to hang up. He was saying something into his phone and she could hear his voice:
“Wait, wait, wait…”
“What?” she said, her phone pressed back to her ear. “I’m busy. And you have a meeting soon, right? Stop fucking around.”
A beat, and she blinked a couple times and for the first time she frowned.
She saw Steve’s throat work, his eyes unwavering.
“You were staring at my ass and I only noticed because I was staring at you, and I want to go somewhere with you right now and –”
“What would you do to me?” Darcy whispered, licking her lips.
He stopped abruptly, considering her question. Darcy thought maybe he’d reached a limit and she was right – he was all talk, and she’d blown whatever chance she had, because maybe he was old-fashioned and she was crass…
His voice came out in a rush.
“I’d bend you over this table and fuck you until you screamed.”
Darcy felt her face redden instantly as she sucked in a breath, Steve’s eyes trained on her as the words sunk in. She knew he meant every word.
“Yeah. If we were completely alone,” he said, his voice a little clearer. “What do you think?”
“When was the l-last time you… made love to someone?” she asked, passing a hand over her eyes to break the tension, her hand then balling into a fist on her thigh.
“Two years ago, with my ex,” he replied. “But I had sex last month.”
Darcy snorted and she heard him laugh.
Then he moved the phone away from his ear and Darcy heard the dial tone. He’d hung up on her and she put the receiver down, seeing his shape moving in her peripheral vision. Her gaze swung back and she watched him exit the conference room, coming over to her desk.
Darcy picked up her bag a second later, following him out the door. They were alone in the corridor and Darcy met his gaze, his hand reaching for her waist.
He tugged her behind a non-descript door, and Darcy’s heartbeat picked up.
“Didn’t want you to think I was all talk,” he whispered, and he kissed her.
Darcy dropped her bag, his hands scooping her up to cup her ass, his hand fumbling for the lock before he spun them around. The store room had shelves and a tiny table and not much else.
“You’re going to be late for your meeting,” Darcy whispered, already reaching under her skirt to pull down her underwear when he set her down on the table.
He caught her in a kiss, his hand going up her skirt, his voice rough in her ear.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” he hissed, and Darcy moaned, arching her back as he played with her clit, teasing her right to the edge. “You think I’m gonna go to that meeting when you’re soaking wet for me?”
He flipped her over, Darcy’s rear backing into his crotch and he gave a soft groan, his hand pinning her into place. She heard the sound of his belt buckle being undone and felt the tip of his cock press up against her and she gasped.
He pushed into her and they both moaned. He felt big and Darcy leaned forward, closing her eyes.
“You’re big," she whispered, her laugh shaky. “You feel big…”
He slammed into her and Darcy gasped, reaching to touch his hip. He turned her head to kiss her clumsily, putting everything into it.
His hand reached down and found her clit, Darcy’s breath hitching against his mouth and she squeezed her eyes shut, his hips still pistoning, the table hitting the wall with each roll of their hips.
“Think you can keep quiet?” he whispered, and Darcy could hear how pleased he was with himself, drawing the pleasure from her.
Each drag of his cock deep inside her was making her light-headed, and she shook her head, unable to find the words.
“You gonna come for me, Darcy?” he whispered. “Show me how you feel when you come. So wet for me, gonna make me come…”
Darcy pulled his spare hand up and covered her mouth with it, her body taut, her cunt clamping down on him, Steve’s appreciative groan in her ear as she gave a muffled moan…
“Fuck, I shoulda asked if you live nearby, wanna do this again… wanna hear you scream… fuck, I’m gonna – f-fuck…”
Darcy finally took a breath, aware that he was pulling out of her, and she stumbled, turning around at the last second to see him with his cock in his hand, and she ducked down.
She took him in her mouth, her eyes glued to his as he came, his hand in her hair. His eyes flew shut and he went still, his hips stalling…
They both panted, Darcy resting on her knees as he tucked himself back into his pants, buckling his belt. They smiled at one another, Darcy’s hand reaching for her discarded undies, pulling them back on.
“Back to work?”
“Yeah,” he replied, breathless.
She kissed him hard, sucking his tongue and grabbing him by the shirt. They broke apart and she wiped at the sweat on his brow.
“Should’ve said – you can come inside me,” she whispered, and his face changed, his eyes darker. “But I wanted to taste you.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” he whispered, and he smiled at her. “You’re trouble, huh?”
Darcy made a show of licking her lips and he laughed, pulling her into another kiss.
“Fuck yeah, you’re trouble…”
Chapter 21: Darcy/Brock Rumlow - Branding
I've never written any kind of omegaverse fic before, and I intended to write my first with a different pairing, but I got this prompt yesterday and it felt right... so I'm welcoming myself back to the Taserbones party. Here's another analogy - I'm swerving into this lane, excuse me...
if you are taking prompts, how about rumlow/darcy with a breeding kink? Thank you to the anon who sent me this. I feel very blessed to receive a niche pairing. Since this is a/b/o or omegaverse with heat cycles, a dubious consent warning is included.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
It was better if Darcy didn’t talk about the shit that was on her mind.
She hadn’t been in heat for years. She forgot how it felt, and she hated that the most. Well, second to the feelings she was experiencing. There was horniess and then there was a Darcy Lewis heat cycle, and the latter was painful. It left her so desperate for an alpha that she became reckless. She couldn’t help it. It wasn’t a little whoopsie like eating a second helping of cake without thinking. She was literally aching between her legs and in desperate search for a mate, writhing in her bed for two whole nights.
She wondered how it happened, and then she remembered going off of her birth control pills. She did that because of some discomfort during sex. She felt bad for the boyfriend she did that for – he had to go back to condoms, and by the time she’d got the extra hormones out of her system the relationship had fizzled out anyway. She almost resigned herself to never being in heat again, until her doctor began to warn her of the repercussions of stopping the Pill. And maybe Darcy was a little cocky (ha ha, but really not funny right now) and took her lack of heat cycles for granted.
Her mom wasn’t like this. Her family didn’t have a lot of omegas that Darcy was aware of. The doctor’s warning was stored away and forgotten about, until she felt arousal hit her like a blow to the gut. She thought it could be the flu, until she began to smell the random men like she was searching instinctively, and she realized she was, she was looking for a hard dick to ride… and her face burned with shame and longing.
When she snuck out of her room after the second night of agony, she hoped someone would take pity on her. She felt hungover and nauseous, craving salt and comfort. She throbbed with it, her thighs shaking as she walked.
It didn’t take long for her to peak someone’s interest, and thank God, because she was almost stumbling with it, the desperation.
Brock Rumlow was walking several feet away from her and Darcy saw the scent of her hit him in real time. He backed into the wall like he’d been pushed there, his eyes widening, and he blinked dazedly, shaking his head. His eyes met Darcy’s and she nodded, feeling the sweat pouring down her face.
He stalked over to her and grabbed her arm, steering her toward the elevator she’d just exited, and he looked livid, unable to keep it inside how affected he was.
“Jesus Christ, Lewis. You’re meant to give a guy a warning. Company policy and all.”
“I was on suppressant contraceptives, asshole,” she gasped, the simple warmth of his hand through her shirt enough to make her thighs squeeze together as he dragged her inside, the doors closing on them seconds later. “I ca-an’t help it!”
She gulped, managing to wrench her arm away from him, moving to the other side of the car.
“Of course you’re an alpha,” she whispered. “Just my fucking luck.”
“I had shit to do today, y’know.”
“Well, since you’ve smelt me, we’re in this together,” Darcy retorted, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m on the sixteenth floor.”
There was a pause and then the car began to move, Darcy’s eyes still shut as she tried to breathe steadily, feeling like all her pores had opened up. She let her eyes flutter open and regretted it instantly, Brock’s eyes on her face, examining her like he was stalking prey, waiting for the ideal moment.
“If you’re not on anything…”
“I can get pregnant, yeah,” she muttered. “Gold star for you. Did you need to consult the manual on that one, bud?”
“Christ. If I had a kid with you –”
“I’m a catch, fuck you,” she snapped. She didn’t like his tone, or the fact that he was acting like she was nothing but a nuisance. She wanted some sympathy.
He stopped his sentence abruptly, sighing. “I was going to say that it’d make things a little more complicated since we work in the same place. Hence the fucking… policy.”
“I didn’t realize this would happen. I haven’t mated with anyone since college,” Darcy muttered, huffing. “I guess it’s my body’s last attempt at finding someone before packing it in –”
“You’re not that old,” he said, and Darcy blinked at him, tempted to roll her eyes.
She wasn’t used to any mode besides asshole when it came to Brock Rumlow and all his STRIKE team buddies. She’d been one to walk past them and see them all stop talking, feeling eyes on her as she retreated. She preferred being in the labs all day and her apartment all night.
“Thanks, I guess,” she muttered.
The car finally stopped at her floor and she ducked out as quickly as her weak legs allowed. She kept her arm in the doorway to prevent it closing, glancing at Brock.
Wrong choice of words apparently, because his eyes flew shut and he took a deep breath, clearing his throat.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
Darcy took out her keys, fumbling a little before she managed to unlock it. She felt Brock’s body heat closing in on her, her stomach flipping in anticipation.
The door shut behind them both and Darcy gestured down the hallway.
“Bedroom’s that way. Don’t worry, I won’t expect you’ll wanna cuddle after, and you don’t have to worry about this shit spreading to your buddies –”
“What?” he grunted, and Darcy saw he was genuinely confused.
It occurred to her that this was the longest conversation they’d ever had. She could smell him better in the apartment. He smelt of something sharp and fresh, his musk sort of sweet underneath. The longer she allowed herself to bask in it, the more she wanted to reach between her legs and get herself off for the fifteenth or so time that day.
“What do you mean, ‘what’?” she said.
“Why would I worry about that?” he said, and Darcy shrugged.
“Jesus! I know you look down your nose at me. You and your macho buddies, always staring at me when I walk past.”
“Oh, my God, Darcy,” he said, and he laughed a little, the sound so foreign Darcy stared. “We look at you because we know you’re an omega. It turns our heads. It’s involuntary.”
Darcy blinked a couple times. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” he said.
Darcy glanced down and her eyes went wider, seeing the outline of his erection in his black tac pants. She closed her eyes, giving a helpless little sigh.
“Come here,” he said, and Darcy nodded, keeping her eyes shut, anticipating more pangs of longing, more desperate clenches of her soaking cunt.
His hands brushed her bare wrists and Darcy shivered, her eyes flying open, seeing him up close.
“It’s gonna be alright,” he whispered.
Darcy gave a humorless chuckle. “Only alright?”
From what she remembered from the mating in college, the alpha had made her pass out from the intensity of his fucking. This was why she couldn’t talk about this shit out loud. It made her sound completely insane, because she wanted that – she wanted to be fucked dumb, deaf and blind.
He took hold of her shoving her into the wall, and Darcy gasped, his mouth on her throat, sucking and biting her skin. She writhed, her hips rocking, seeking him out, craving the friction. She could come untouched – it had happened several times in the last two days – but she’d rather he was inside her, splitting her wide open.
God, she didn’t want to think about what her clit looked like right now, but she had some idea. All pink and swollen, her cunt puffy and glistening with arousal.
“Don’t you fucking tease me,” she snarled, managing to catch her breath as his pawed her all over her front, never hard enough for her liking.
She heard his deep chuckle and she whimpered, grabbing at his tac vest. She heard about alphas breaking things to get at omegas – but what about the other way around? She was sure omegas were just as unhinged.
She heard the material of her leggings tearing, his hands yanking everything down past her thighs, exposing her cunt to the air. He turned her around, and Darcy backed into him, trying to rub herself against him. His hand came down to keep her in place.
“I don’t want to wait,” she wailed, and he petted her rear, his breathing ragged.
“I know, I know,” he whispered. “But I just wanna…”
Darcy began to sob when she felt his tongue glide up her slit. He dipped inside her, lapping at her core, and Darcy came, her back bowing as her vision went white. It wasn’t nearly enough, and Brock knew that, keeping his tongue inside her for a few minutes, the wetness running down Darcy’s inner thighs as his nose was pressed up to her asshole, his fingers digging into her cheeks.
“Please. Please. I want to fucking… die…”
“Can’t have that,” he replied, finally letting her go, gathering her up to walk them down the hallway.
She landed face first on the unmade bed, Brock’s growl filling her ears as the scent of her sleeping space filled his nostrils. Darcy had some idea of what that did to an alpha, but she couldn’t feel sorry for him, not after what he just put her through.
His mouth was wet and pink, his chin soaked from her juices, Darcy’s gaze falling to his face when she waited for him to take his cock out. She wanted to reach for it, but instead assumed the position, leaning forward on her knees to present herself, her ass in the air.
“God, you look so fucking… open,” he hissed, and Darcy watched him stroke himself, his cock pink and leaking.
She bit her lip, whining a little. There was no dignity because it didn’t matter. All that mattered was him fucking her until she couldn’t walk, until he shot deep inside her. God, she hoped his slick would stick –
She gasped at the thought of that actually happening, and he seemed to have the same idea enter his mind, his cock twitching toward her.
“Do it,” she whispered. “Come on…”
He huffed, maneuvering himself to rub his tip against her cunt and Darcy kept perfectly still, gnawing her lip. She closed her eyes, unable to keep them open as she whined again, not wanting to hope –
And hope for what, exactly?
“I got you,” he whispered, and Darcy whimpered.
He sank into her, both of them moaning, her whole body trembling as he filled her to the hilt, shifting so he wrapped himself around her, his mouth hovering over her ear.
“I think… shit, I’m coming –”
Darcy felt it, his cock twitching inside her and he groaned – coming as Darcy clenched around him on instinct, trapping him there. Brock moaned again at the feeling of her gripping him tight, and she felt it, her marking him in her own way, his greedy omega.
“More, more,” she moaned, and he began to rock, Darcy’s speech slurring.
He tugged at her shirt, both of them ridding themselves of their clothes, his hips snapping, his cock moving hard and fast, dragging out each orgasm…
She felt drunk. If it were any other situation, she would suspect he’d somehow poisoned her, but his scent was the thing that set her off, plus the heat of his body and the way he rutted into her.
It was feral. That was the only word that did it justice, because it was primal and needy in every beautiful way. Darcy’s cravings only made worse by Brock’s.
His teeth sank into her neck as he took and took from her until she couldn’t feel anything but how her body cried out for him, and then she felt it – his cock expanding, exposing the knot inside her…
“I want it, I want it, please… please…”
“Beg so pretty,” he whispered, and Darcy was gone, lost to it, the sensations melting the world away.
She was elated, sweaty and smiling under him, built up and knocked back down…
She was vaguely aware of him turning her over so she lay in his arms, their legs tangling. She either passed out or fell asleep, but resurfaced a few minutes later, her mouth dry.
He left her, coming back with a glass of water and she drank it in a few seconds, gasping for air, glancing at his cock that was half-hard and wet against his broad thigh.
“Again?” he asked, and she nodded, reaching for him.
She paused at something on his hip, narrowing her eyes. “What’s that?”
“My… last mate,” he murmured, and he went to cover it with his hand but Darcy batted his hand away, inspecting the mark.
She gasped. “Oh, my God. You were branded?”
“It’s not that outrageous,” he said, and Darcy realized her mistake, seeing the flash of hurt in his eyes. “Not when you experience that kind of… relationship.”
“Matching marks?” she asked, her voice a little quieter.
“Yeah. But she died.”
Darcy blinked a couple times, her mind reeling. She never heard about any of this before. She didn’t even know he was an alpha before today. And just minutes ago he’d come inside her. It all hit her, how significant this all was. With her need lessened, she could see everything that much clearer.
“Brock, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he replied. “Long time ago.”
He turned her over but Darcy twisted herself back around, shaking her head.
“It’s fine, I’m over it –”
She cut him off with a kiss to his lips and he gave a little groan, Darcy’s tongue slipping into his mouth. She could taste herself on his skin, and she could feel his facial hair scratch her lips, making it feel more real. He grabbed her face, taking over, and she welcomed it – it was her natural role to be possessed, manhandled, taken care of…
When he drove into her, he kept kissing her, their eyes meeting again and again. It was overwhelming, and Darcy’s chest began to ache.
“Fuck, your knot. We didn’t talk about that… we didn’t even talk about condoms... I mean, we sort of did…”
“I’m lucky, alright?” he murmured. “I’m aware of the luck involved in this, me happening to be in the right place at the right time…”
“But it feels right,” she said, touching his face. “Don’t you feel that?”
He nodded, his face softening. “Yeah…”
They stopped talking, went back to touching and moaning, breaths turning to pants, both of them greedy. They rolled around, Brock tucking inside her and rocking into her, Darcy pinned beneath him.
“I want you,” she whispered. “Stay a while. Stay.”
His throat bobbed. He seemed to hesitate, even when he was deep inside her, their bare chests pressed together.
“Come inside me again,” she whispered. “Please… please…”
She kissed him, slow, drawing him out, making him moan. He shut his eyes, going faster, hitching her legs up to meet his shoulders.
Darcy came again and again, dissolving into the realm between being conscious and not, reality slipping away from her, aware that Brock was coming again, his mouth pressed to hers.
They lay together after, Darcy’s fingers brushing the mark on his hip. She couldn’t stop the questions falling from her mouth:
“What would you give me? What would we do to each other?”
Chapter 22: Steve/Darcy - Hand Jobs
This was going to be something else entirely but I had a really rough day and my rapid mood-swings really fucked with my creativity. Thanks to sarahbeniel for suggesting I go with a different prompt to my original idea.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Darcy got her period the day before their first date. She knew her cycle and it still managed to surprise her. She was feeling kind of shitty the week before and figured it was because of the amount of data entry she did in one sitting, her neck strained from hunching over at her desk.
She needs to get better at looking after herself. She keeps forgetting that she’s an adult and these things don’t just happen – she needs to form habits and be responsible... yikes. She will not turn into her mother, but she will need to sit up straight if she’s going to work past the age of forty.
This first date with Steve was a long time coming. At least, she’d like to think so. He indicated as much, something about him getting his head out of his ass. It was flattering, having a guy like Steve get all flustered and have to work himself up to asking her out. They knew each other pretty well. Darcy was used to seeing his face, if that were possible. It never got any less handsome to her, no less overwhelming. She masturbated about him a lot.
She wasn’t going to bail on a date because she had cramps and was tired. Her hormones were making her randy, and seeing Steve when he came to pick her up from the labs made her want to climb him, the afternoon sun on his skin making him glow.
“I thought we’d go for a walk and then get dinner,” he said. His little smile had her picturing backing him into the storeroom and putting her hands all over him, and maybe it showed in her eyes because his brows lifted, his head tilting slightly.
“Yep,” she replied, grabbing his hand and steering him out the door, and they began walking around the field.
Every so often Darcy would feel a cramp deep inside her and she’d tense, thinking about the bottle of Tylenol she had in her apartment, but she tried to keep talking and keep listening to what Steve was saying.
She hated her period. The only thing she ever liked about them was when they were over, and her skin would be recovered from the hormonal onslaught, and she’d feel less bloated. No wonder it used to be called The Curse. She was lucky she didn’t have endometriosis like her cousin.
Darcy felt a particularly painful cramp and clutched her stomach, going still. Steve stopped abruptly, his hand reaching to touch her shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Darcy murmured. She didn’t know how to talk about this with him. He was from another era. The subject had never come up before with him.
“Let’s go inside and sit down…”
“I’m fine, I swear,” she said, putting up a hand. “It’s nothing… serious.”
She knew she needed to use the bathroom soon anyway, to make sure her tight jeans weren’t stained at all. She usually wore looser clothing during that time of the month, but instead chose her best jeans for vain purposes – Steve-ogling-her-ass kind of purposes.
“C’mere,” he murmured, and Darcy watched him kneel, his back to her. “Hop on.”
She hesitated, before taking a deep breath and jumped onto him. Steve hitched them both up, and began walking back toward the buildings, the sun nearly set behind them.
“I was gonna cook…”
Darcy felt her stomach flip, her arms wrapping tighter around his neck. She liked the feeling of his fingers digging into her thighs, his broad body between her legs.
“What did you have in mind?” she murmured.
“Pasta or…. pasta.”
She chuckled, letting her lips fall to the space behind his ear, not quite kissing him. She could smell his skin, his scent stronger around his hairline. Her nose brushed him.
“Just what I’m in the mood for.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice softer.
He put her down when they arrived at Steve’s place, laying his palm flat on the reader to unlock the door, opening it for her. She ducked inside, smiling at him.
She went to the bathroom, glad that everything seemed fine. She couldn’t find any pain pills and remembered those would be pretty useless on Steve since his metabolism was so high… she went back out to find Steve in the kitchen.
They ended up cooking together. Steve was a terrible cook, not that Darcy didn’t already know that about him. She knew he was trying, but she was glad he wasn’t against her showing him exactly what to do. They boiled spaghetti and Darcy helped heat up the sauce to go with it.
“You’d be surprised how much of this can go wrong when I’m by myself,” he murmured, and Darcy began to giggle, straining the pasta in the sink as Steve watched.
They sat on the couch together, Darcy’s feet tucked under as they watched Mr. Smith Goes To Washington. Darcy made Steve laugh with her best Jimmy Stewart impression peppered with cussing. He clutched his belly and giggled, doubling over.
They both became hysterical by the time Jimmy Stewart collapsed on screen, and then Darcy scooted closer to Steve, her hand reaching to touch his hair, smoothing her fingers over his face.
The movie was forgotten, Steve’s eyes resting on hers, his gaze relaxed, almost sleepy-looking. He felt so soft, and Darcy leaned toward him.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, and Darcy nodded.
His hand reached for her, running up the side of her face to thread his fingers through her hair like Darcy had done to him, bringing her toward him to brush his lips against hers. He pressed his mouth to hers in a second kiss at an angle, closing his eyes. Darcy practically melted, sighing into it. She felt him purse his lips, before he took her lower lip between his two and sucked.
It was relatively tame, but Darcy’s fingers dug into him, and she moaned, the sound raw and involuntary. She’d wanted this for God knows how long. She remembered studying the Howling Commandos in middle school, for crying out loud.
One of his hands glided under her shirt, fingers brushing the skin of her side, clutching her a second later, Darcy’s mouth opening slightly, and he took the cue – his tongue nudged inside her and Darcy moaned again, shifting closer –
“Ow,” she hissed, breaking off the kiss and touching her stomach, feeling herself cramp.
She whimpered, and Steve’s fingers stroked her skin, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“You need something?”
Darcy pulled back a little more, hesitating. She rolled her eyes. She was a grown woman, with a functioning uterus.
“I’m on my… period.”
He nodded, and she realized he knew that already.
“You need somethin’ for the pain?”
Darcy nodded, moving to stand up. “Back at my place, I got pills.”
They put on their shoes and left his place to take the short walk to Darcy’s apartment. He held her hand until she slipped inside, grabbing her bottle of Tylenol after she went to the bathroom.
They headed back in silence, and she hoped the mood hadn’t changed because of her. She took the Tylenol when they sat back down, washing it down with water. He wrapped an arm around her middle, pulling her closer back to him, his lips brushing her cheek.
“Wanna kiss you,” he murmured, and she nodded, turning her head.
He overwhelmed her, more heat to his touch, their tongues gliding. Darcy rode the wave of him, sighing, closing her eyes, letting herself feel everything. He made sounds as well, sounds Darcy only imagined him making in her presence, and he wasn’t trying to keep quiet.
Darcy’s hips rocked a little, a little whine escaping her as he panted in her ear about how good she felt, how soft her skin was…
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and she could see his mouth was wet and pink from kissing, his eyes blown in the low light of the living room.
The movie had long finished, both of them breathless, Steve’s arms curled around her. She bit her lip, wishing she was a few days late, or early, or whatever it took… she sighed.
“I want you,” she whispered, kissing him slower, but no less intensely.
He moaned, his breath hitching when Darcy’s hand moved down his chest to his stomach, his muscles jumping under her touch.
“Want you, too,” he murmured.
Her hands moved to his belt buckle and Steve seemed to hold his breath, his eyes fluttering shut when she managed to slip her hand into his jeans, feeling the velvety hardness of his shaft, her thumb brushing over his wet tip, circling him.
“Fuck,” he gasped. “You feel so…”
He moaned, and Darcy watched his face, saw him overcome with pleasure, his face blotched with colour like she knew hers was. Every time she drew a breath he’d pull her back in, so responsive to her touch.
She didn’t want their first time to be this way. She had some idea that he wasn’t against it – except she was tired and sore, and she wanted the first time he was inside her to be nothing but pleasure. Maybe the build-up would kill her, but in the meantime, his moaning and writhing was enough to spur her on, his thick cock throbbing in her palm as she sucked his tongue.
“Mmmfuck,” he moaned and she chuckled, breathless.
He made a helpless little sound and Darcy tugged his lip with her teeth, her hand finally picking up speed.
She pulled back for a second, spitting between them, his eyes lighting up.
“That’s better,” she whispered, and he nodded, a little dazed. “Wanna make you come, Steve…”
“Fuck, I’m gonna explode, Darce,” he whispered back.
She hadn’t given a good ol’ fashioned handy shandy in quite a while. She’d never enjoyed them as much as now, drawing it out instead of wanting to check the time, hoping the guy would come already. Steve was making such a fuss over her fist she wondered how he’d sound when she finally rode him in a few days when her period was over…
Their kisses became mouths missing each other, and one of Steve’s hands moved up under her shirt, fingers slipping under her bra cup. He shuddered, lips trailing down to her chest, nudging the material away with his nose to reach her nipple. Darcy gasped when he latched onto her, speeding up her strokes to an almost painful speed, hearing him close to overflowing.
“I’m coming, I’m coming –”
The sounds he was making were downright dirty, panting and moaning against Darcy’s tit that was half out of her shirt, his hand still under her bra. He went slack-jawed, his breaths coming in pants, and Darcy glanced down to see the cords of come spill over her fist.
He moaned, making little struggling sounds as she wrung him out, stopping when his hand lay on top of hers. She could smell his come, could feel it warm and wet against her skin.
He gave a weak little laugh, nodding, and Darcy smiled back at him, pleased with herself.
Mr. Smith Goes to Washington Speech. My impression of Jimmy Stewart is more or less the same one John Mulaney does, with a little Rear Window a la The Simpsons... "There's a sinister lookin' kid comin' to kill me!"
And before you ask, no, I'm not on my period. My mood swings are a symptom of a pre-existing condition.
Chapter 23: Darcy/Bucky - Scars
This fic discusses self-harm and self-harm scars.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“I’ve got to see you again.”
Darcy smiled, adjusting the phone she held against her ear, sure that Bucky would hear it, how much he affected her. Everything he said didn’t feel like a line at all – he sounded sincere, and she had begun to trust he was. It didn’t stop her from wanting to hear more.
“Yeah,” he answered. “What’re you doin’ tonight?”
His accent came through more and she smiled, chuckling.
“Um… nothing yet.”
Or, no-one yet.
“Okay. Can I come over and watch a movie with you?”
Bucky and Netflix and chill. She felt her stomach flip.
Hours later, after polishing off dinner and setting up a movie, she and Bucky sat together for a solid three minutes before his hand reached for her thigh. Whenever he was around her nowadays he was touching her – hand-holding, fingers brushing skin, arms wrapped around her waist or her shoulders…
Darcy loved it, that he could express himself that way with her. It made her feel special, and seeing his eyes drink her in now made her feel wanted.
She lunged toward him, and he pulled her closer in retaliation, hefting her up onto his lap and kissing her. It felt as though this had been bubbling beneath the surface and they were finally letting themselves enjoy each other’s bodies. The last time they made out was two days ago, in the same place. Darcy made Bucky sit through Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and by the end of it he was laughing along with her.
His tongue slipped into her mouth with a needy glide to it, swallowing her moans as his hands skirted under the back of her shirt, Darcy’s hips shifting as she pushed him further into the couch. She grabbed him by the hair and kissed him hard, and she was rewarded with his low groan, her stomach flipping at the sound. She pulled back, panting against his mouth, her skin feeling hot.
“Fuck,” she gasped, and he kissed her again without closing his eyes, tugging at her lower lip, teasing her. “Fuck, Bucky…”
She moved back, reaching for the hem of her sweater and pulled it up, the long-sleeve shirt underneath, her heart racing. She moved to take more off, but hesitated.
“I, um… I have scars,” she murmured.
Bucky blinked a couple times, seeming to take a little longer for the words to register. She could feel his erection against her thigh and it wouldn’t be totally inaccurate to say all the blood had rushed there, his brain worse off…
“Yeah?” he said.
Darcy nodded. “I don’t… look, I don’t want you to worry, or be… triggered, or…”
“Why?” he murmured. “It’s just you.”
She bit her lip. No-one saw her arms or legs. She wore cardigans all year round. She didn’t do it for modesty’s sake. She was terrified of prying eyes.
“I got scars,” he added. “From…”
“Before,” Darcy finished for him, and he nodded.
“Yeah,” he breathed.
His hands smoothed her hair, his thumb brushing her lower lip. Darcy considered pulling back and waiting another day. She didn’t want to wait anymore. She wanted to touch Bucky all over, and she wanted to be naked when she did it…
“Okay,” she whispered, and she began to pull off her shirt.
His face changed when she tossed it aside, crossing her arms over her middle, gliding her hands up and down. She swallowed thickly, wondering what he was thinking.
“I used to… cut myself,” she whispered.
She uncrossed her arms, holding them palms-up, Bucky’s fingers brushing her wrists and then her forearms. Some of the scars were uniform, others were larger and chaotic, all of them white and standing out on her limbs.
Bucky had gone quiet, his eyes roving her skin. Darcy never felt more vulnerable.
“There’s more. Um, on my thighs.”
He nodded. Darcy let out a shaky breath.
“Please say something.”
Bucky’s hands left her and he motioned her to get off of him and Darcy obliged, feeling her face flush. She wrapped her arms around her top half, watching Bucky tug at his shirt. She was flooded with the scent of his skin, vaguely sweet, and he revealed his muscular chest. He was peppered with scars, the majority of the tissue surrounding his cybernetic limb. She hadn’t seen it up close before and she stared, before ducking her gaze to her lap.
Her eyes snapped to his and he tugged at her arms, unfurling them slowly, pulling her closer.
“You don’t have to explain,” he whispered, and she nodded, feeling her eyes sting.
She didn’t think it would be like this. The last guy she slept with hadn’t commented on anything he might have seen – she tended to have sex with her shirt on, and under covers in the dark. It made spontaneity that much harder, and she hated that. She knew it was significant that Bucky was seeing this much of her.
“Wait,” she murmured, and she moved back again, her hands going to her jeans.
She stripped, her heart racing. She stood in nothing but her skin, Bucky’s eyes falling to the marks before he reached back up to her eyes.
“C’mere,” he whispered, hand reaching for her. “C’mere right now…”
She landed on top of him, and he kissed her so thoroughly she whimpered, Bucky’s hands clutching her body, their hips rocking together.
They fumbled, his jeans pushed down and off, Darcy taking him to the hilt seconds later with shaky gasps.
Their noses bumped as they rocked together, her eyes fluttering closed from the sensations, wanting to be lost in them. She felt so full and cherished…
“Tell me this ain’t a one-time thing,” he whispered, and she took his face in her hands, their teeth getting in the way as she kissed him rough and deliberate. He sounded overcome. “Jesus, you make me feel amazin’…”
Darcy moaned, her breath hitching when he played with her clit, watching her face. The grind of her hips sped up as he rubbed her, and she clenched around him, his other hand gripping her hip as he rocked into her.
She came back to Earth, her eyes following her fingers as they glided up to meet his left deltoid, ghosting over the bumps of scar tissue. His eyes met hers and Darcy stroked his skin.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore,” he replied, and she nodded, ducking down to kiss the bumps, her hips still grinding.
She felt him tug and he caught her wrist, pressing it to his mouth, panting against her skin. She knew he was close, his eyes had a distinct glaze to them and he was slack-jawed.
“Come for me,” she whispered, and he hissed, pulling her into another smothering kiss.
Chapter 24: Bucky/Natasha/Darcy - Bath
This is a prompt fill for everythinghappens-love on Tumblr - "Bucky/Natasha/Darcy + Body Worship". Thank you so much for sending me a prompt! ❤
Is there plot? Maybe, if you squint. This is both the first time I've written Darcy/Nat and Bucky/Nat.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
She was Agent Romanoff long before Darcy managed to wrap her head around the spy being attracted to her.
She was Natasha after a party when Darcy took a drink from her, a smooth martini with a twist of lemon. She wasn’t a cocktail kind of girl, but Natasha never made her feel less sophisticated. She thought maybe she was being friendly, but never flirty. Her eyes had a sparkle to them, and Darcy was aware of the history between Natasha and Bucky Barnes.
She was Nat when Darcy was caught in the crossfire, ducking behind the elevator doors when a HYDRA grunt infiltrated the labs. Nat saved her life with very little effort, but something felt owed, an acknowledgement of some kind.
“Just doing my job,” she replied, and Darcy felt like a fool, so earnest, her hand reaching for Nat’s.
“Right,” she muttered, her face flushing. She let go of her, eyes averting.
Then Nat kissed her when the dust settled and Darcy froze in place, letting it happen, unable to react. The redhead drew back and Darcy felt the flood or arousal under those intense eyes, those full lips.
“Fuck me,” she gasped, and Nat began to chuckle.
“I’d love to,” she retorted huskily, which was enough to make Darcy’s thighs press together.
Darcy hadn’t eaten out a woman out in years, and everything about it felt almost too good to handle. Nat was so beautiful, all muscle and curves, her shapely legs bracketing Darcy’s head as she lay between her thighs.
Together in bed she didn’t feel as if Nat was putting on a show. She was truly vulnerable, open to her touch, but never taking a backseat. They spent hours together the first time, the adrenaline from earlier worn off and their moves slow and deliberate, Darcy’s hands mapping out the porcelain skin, the marks from battle, the pieces she hadn’t seen before.
She learned the secret pink parts of her, the ways to make her toes curl, showing off that delicate arch of her feet when they flexed…
She was soaking by the time Nat had waited long enough, biding her time like the spider she was named after. She pounced on Darcy, her strength overpowering her, fingers gliding through the wet folds of her cunt, filling her with two fingers, sealing her mouth over her throbbing clit.
“Nat –” Darcy’s hips lifted as she came, the name broken on her lips.
She was Natalia to Bucky, Talia when she was nasty. Darcy thought about whether or not she’d crossed some line, sleeping with Nat when she knew about that epic Soviet-era history, the shiny scar on Nat’s stomach.
How was she meant to compete with that? She never meant to. That would be insane, trying to measure up to such a partnership. That would be like trying to mosey into the Obama marriage, or something just as significant… all her frames of reference didn’t do them justice anyway. Sometimes she felt childish when she thought of those two together, their perfect bodies moulded so precisely.
Darcy turned down a corridor and nearly walked into Bucky two days after sleeping with Nat. He brushed her arm with his fingers and she felt her face flush. By the way he was looking at her, he’d heard about what happened. His eyes had changed from their usual stare. She felt her stomach twist as the silence fell between them.
“Listen, I –”
“It’s fine,” he cut her off, and Darcy frowned, a little irritated by the interruption.
“I was going to say, I’m not sorry it happened,” she snapped, and he blinked at her, something passing over his face. If Darcy wasn’t looking for anger, she’d notice the barest trace of surprise in his expression. “Not that you and Nat are any of my business. Just in case you were expecting me to beg for your forgiveness.”
Sleeping with Nat had made her change a little, knowing she was capable of satisfying a woman like her, someone so capable and desirable. She could remember the sounds she made when Nat came for the fifth time in row, her mouth at Darcy’s ear.
“Okay,” Bucky replied, the word drawn out. “Good to know.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t know how she felt about sharing someone. She hadn’t done it before so openly. She’d been the other woman and she’d been cheated on. She was neither at this point, Nat’s underwear in her laundry hamper in her apartment.
She stalked off, feeling his eyes on her as she left.
Most confessions of attraction came after some type of danger. It created contrast, brought the important things to the surface. She realized over the next couple of months that she was thinking of Bucky more and more. She’d sleep over at Nat’s some nights and wear one of his shirts. Not that he knew that, she kept the little crush to herself and Nat.
It was a bizarre turn of events but at this point, Darcy shouldn’t be so surprised. Another ambush, this time at a café, and Darcy took a bullet to her thigh that narrowly missed an artery, and Bucky held her hand for hours while she lay up in hospital. It was if he was afraid she’d disappear if he didn’t hold onto her.
They barely spoke, and yet it was understood between them that they were a little bit in love. She wondered when he first suspected it.
She was Darcy, then Darce, then Dee or Doll. He was Bucky all year ‘round, or Baby.
The first time they slept together, Darcy hadn’t slept with a man in months, the experience so obviously different to everything she did with Nat, and yet it was like the redhead was still there with them as they explored each other’s bodies.
Bucky ate pussy like he enjoyed it as much as the receiver, which was a nice twist. Not every man felt that way. He made love to her with his mouth until she came twice, before pulling down his pants and dragging her underneath him.
“I’m clean,” she whispered, and he pulled back for a second, glancing between them, seeing her hand wrap around his shaft and stroke him. “I won’t get pregnant.”
“I’m sterile,” he replied, and she blinked at him, surprised.
“So’s Natalia,” he murmured, and Darcy nodded because she already knew.
It wasn’t fine. She knew how that happened, in HYDRA labs against their will decades ago. The anger she felt toward the people who tortured and controlled her lovers was second to none, and she never knew what to do with it, she was inconsolable.
She lifted her hips, inviting Bucky, brushing her cunt against his cock.
He fucked her hard and fast. Some might call it brutal, but his kisses and looks were full of longing and love. He was a walking contradiction, gentle and rough all at once. Darcy took it all, aching afterwards as they lay together, smelling of come and sweat.
“I haven’t… been with any other gal but Natalia,” he whispered, and Darcy’s eyes widened.
“Not as far as I know,” he amended. “For decades.”
“Why me, then?” Darcy asked before she could stop herself. The second the question was out she cringed, thinking she may have just ruined it all.
“You know me, Dee,” he whispered. “You know me.”
The second time, he more or less tackled her when she was standing at the kitchen sink, drinking a glass of water. They tumbled together on the linoleum, Bucky’s teeth grazing her neck as he tugged her underwear down, kicking her legs apart. He lasted longer, hitching her knee up and slamming into her from behind, his arm wrapped around her bare chest.
It seemed that Nat knew about Darcy and Bucky sleeping together before they did, at least by how she looked at Darcy the following morning before she’d had a chance to say a word.
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” the spy replied, and Darcy shrugged. “He’s not off-limits. I’m not off-limits.”
“I thought maybe I… could be off-limits to him,” Darcy replied, her voice low.
Nat blinked. “Oh, you wanted us to fight over you?”
She felt her face flush, turning away. She felt Nat’s hand brush the hair from her face, turning her back toward her.
“You think about that often enough?” she murmured, and Darcy pretended to shrug, unamused. “How does that scenario usually go?”
“I can’t walk the next day,” Darcy replied, trying to keep her face neutral as she sipped her coffee.
Nat broke into a smile, those predatory eyes putting Darcy in her place.
“That could be arranged.”
Darcy hadn’t had a threesome since college, and back then she was drunk and inexperienced. She did it to impress a guy she liked – she cringed now when she remembered that detail.
Nat took her out to go drink at a bar down the block from the Tower, her fingers always close to her, brushing her exposed skin, threading through Darcy’s, brushing her face. She was so tender. She might be the tenderest person Darcy ever met, and God help anyone who tried to usurp her, because then Darcy would never recover from that kind of gentle, caring love.
“I wish time could stand still,” she whispered, and Darcy caught her hand, kissing her palm. “I wish we knew each other sooner.”
“Me, too,” Darcy replied, and she pulled her into a kiss, tasting the bourbon on her tongue.
They went back to Nat’s place, turning on some music in the living room, moving together in a slow dance. She heard the creak of Nat’s mattress in the other room and felt Bucky come up behind her. She was sandwiched between them, hips touching her hips and ass.
Kisses skirted over her bare shoulders and face. She thought of what she said earlier, about them fighting over her… and they began to move over her, hands brushing, clothes getting tugged away.
Bucky tugged her into a languid kiss, Nat’s hands pulling down the straps of her dress and bra underneath. Nat’s mouth met her nipple and Darcy moaned, the sound muffled by Bucky’s lips.
She managed to break away from Bucky to look down at Nat, seeing her suck and lick at her pebbled nipple. The redhead’s eyes were blown, her breathing ragged to match Bucky’s in Darcy’s ears. Darcy bucked a second later, feeling a hand slide down between her legs to tease her.
“I love how you say my name,” he whispered and she whimpered, his middle finger pressing down between the lips of her, finding her clit.
“I might wear it out,” she replied, and he chuckled, circling his finger. She hissed.
“You wanna get out of this dress?”
“Fuck yes,” Darcy whispered, and both of them chuckled at her enthusiasm. “God…”
“I’ll run you a bath,” he said, pulling back and Darcy blinked in surprise, Nat’s mouth moving off of her. Bucky patted her butt and turned away, walking down the hall.
“Freshen up first, Darce,” Nat murmured, drawing her closer, kissing her hard. She ended it with Darcy’s lip between her teeth.
“Hey!” Bucky called, and they broke apart, slower than usual. “You two better not be racin’ ahead without me.”
“I could make her come in about ten seconds,” Nat called back, a mischievous lilt to her voice.
It made Darcy kiss her again, cupping her face and gliding her hand over her chest, squeezing.
She was suddenly pulled away from Nat with a loud smacking of their lips and she was flush against Bucky a second later, his hands deep in her hair, gathering her in his arms.
He carried her down the hallway, placing her on her feet when they reached the bathroom. She saw the water rising in the tub, some soapy bubbles spreading around in the center.
They helped take off her clothes, hands rubbing and teasing her. Darcy sunk into the bath, feeling like they were her audience as she scrubbed at her limbs with a washcloth.
“I haven’t seen you two…” she began, and Bucky glanced at Nat. “Kiss or anything.”
“It’s been known to happen,” Nat replied, and Darcy sat back, the water sloshing.
“She’s teasin’, doll,” Bucky murmured, and he looked at Nat, expectant.
“What? You think you can look at me like that, Soldier Boy, and –?”
He cut her off with a kiss and Darcy smiled up at them, Bucky’s eyes resting on her as he kissed the redhead. He winked at Darcy, deepening the kiss, Nat’s hand reaching to tug his hair.
“We’re neglecting her,” she murmured, and Bucky gave the slightest nod.
Nat turned back toward Darcy, lowering herself to kneel by the bath, leaning in for a kiss. Darcy smiled into it, Nat’s tongue teasing her before slipping inside her mouth. Darcy moaned, closing her eyes as she relaxed into it, hearing the water splash a little, and then –
Nat’s hand went between her legs, pushing two fingers inside her with ease, Darcy’s eyes opening. She glanced down to see Nat’s arm disappearing into the water, the smirk on her face as she played Darcy like a fiddle…
Bucky settled down beside Nat, his eyes watching Darcy’s face as she leaned back against the wall, hips tilting for her ideal angle.
“It’s longer than ten seconds,” he cut in, and Nat threw him a look.
She redoubled her efforts, her other hand wrapping around Darcy’s neck as she fucked her hard and fast, water splashing as Darcy tensed all over.
“She likes it when you’re a little rough with her, too, huh?” Bucky murmured, and Nat made an affirmative sound, Darcy’s moan drowning her out.
She wrenched the orgasm from her, clamping down on Nat’s fingers as she gave a shout. Nat withdrew her fingers, keeping her other hand at Darcy’s neck.
Darcy gave a happy sigh, feeling sweat on her brow. She leaned back, Nat’s fingers letting her go to travel up to her mouth, rubbing her lower lip.
“You wanna come again?” Bucky murmured, and she glanced at him, nodding. He chuckled. “Of course you do, that’s a stupid question…”
Nat’s fingers tugged at her lip, distracting her.
“Get out of the bath, Darce.”
She stood up fast, water sloshing. She saw their eyes take her in, naked and wet, and she pressed her thighs together.
“Jesus,” Bucky hissed, and she flushed, smiling. “C’mere.”
He tugged her out of the bath, picking her up again and she laughed as he carried her out.
“Got a bed with your name on it,” he whispered, capturing her in a searing kiss.
He lay her down on the bed, the mattress dipping as Natasha followed them, Darcy between their bodies as their mouths skirted over her skin.
She heard Bucky take off his pants, her eyes on Nat who was doing the same with her shirt, tossing the clothes aside at the end of the bed. Darcy lay on her back, not daring to close her eyes even though she felt overwhelmed by the images of Bucky and Nat kissing her and caressing her.
“You okay?” Bucky murmured, and she met his eye, swallowing.
He kissed her, slow at first, and she felt hands on her thighs, pushing them apart.
Nat’s tongue ran up her slit and Darcy gasped, kissing Bucky back harder, feeling Nat’s thumbs rubbing up and down her inner thighs.
“You want Bucky to fuck you?” Nat murmured, swirling her tongue a second later, and Darcy’s toes curled, her heels digging into the mattress. “Darcy?”
“I can’t… think,” she moaned, feeling Nat suckle her clit, Bucky’s hands cupping her tits.
She felt close already, Nat’s tongue working her over. She knew her body well enough, bringing her to the edge as Bucky watched her face, scattered kisses over her cheek.
Darcy dissolved. Nat’s mouth moving to kiss the top of her mound and stomach, and she could feel she was twitching between her legs, her hands trying to grab both of them at the same time.
“You’re so beautiful when you come,” Bucky murmured, pressing a kiss to her mouth. “Can’t believe it took us so long to start this, doll…”
Darcy whimpered, and he looked at Nat.
“Talia wanted it, too,” he whispered. “Wanted to make you come, me here with you two…”
His hands glided over her chest, one slipping down to reach her cunt, circling with his middle finger.
“You made her so wet,” he murmured to Nat, his eyes on Darcy. “She’s so pretty and open for us…”
He moved down, biting her neck, and Darcy felt his erection brush up against her thigh. She sucked in a breath as he pushed his finger inside her with ease, Nat’s tongue back at her clit.
“Can’t get over how you’re built, doll,” he whispered, crooking his finger, reaching her G-spot.
It made Darcy’s heels dig in again, her legs wider apart as her thighs began to shake.
When she came, she felt wrung out, the world fading away. She felt airborne, and when Bucky withdrew his long finger and sucked on it at her eye level, she reached for his cock, stroking him hard and fast.
“I want you, I want you…”
He pulled her under him, hitching her thigh over his hip and pushed inside her, Nat crawling up to kiss her, Bucky’s hips moving hard and fast. She could hear his balls smacking into her, his groans when Darcy tightened around him, Nat’s fingers getting between them to tease her clit.
“You take him so well,” she whispered, and Darcy reached for Nat, wanting to play with her, include her in this somehow.
“Sit... on my hand, or… my face?”
They chuckled together again, Bucky’s pace slower but hard, his strokes making Darcy lightheaded, Nat’s fingers rubbing.
“It’s about you right now, Darce,” the redhead murmured. She glanced at Bucky. “Soldier Boy, tell her how good she feels…”
“So wet and tight, makin’ me crazy,” he whispered, panting a little. “Wanna make you come again, doll.”
“Flip me over,” she gasped, and Bucky growled, doing just that, pushing her ass into the air.
Nat scooted over, managing to wriggle under Darcy as she held her face in her hands, kissing her as Bucky fucked her senseless.
“You going to come for us?”
“Yes,” Darcy whined, and she tried her best to keep her eyes open, until she couldn’t take it anymore, succumbing to Bucky’s relentless pace, his hand reaching for her swollen clit.
She practically fell on top of Nat, half-sobbing, half-laughing as she came, Nat’s lips pressed to hers.
They fell asleep together many hours later, after they took turns with her, treating her both like a princess and a fucktoy. She was trembling by the end, and it almost hurt to come the final time.
She collapsed, feeling arms and legs wrap around her, holding her, treasuring her.
Chapter 25: Darcy/Bucky - Olfactophilia (Scent)
Dubious consent warning! Omegaverse Wintershock is upon us.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Bucky’s forehead was covered in sweat. His eyes were wide, his chest heaving. In any other situation, Darcy would interpret his body language as an impending panic attack. She knew better now, it just took her a few days to understand what was going on.
There was barely any space between them, and it felt like too much and not enough all at the same time. The elevator car was cramped, and Darcy’s scent was amplified, mingling with Bucky’s musk.
“Don’t look at me,” he hissed, and Darcy’s gaze averted to his feet, seeing him shift. “I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine,” she cut in. “I understand.”
Darcy knew about heat cycles well enough. She had one several years ago and she hadn’t been the same since. Sex didn’t compare to the kind she experienced with the alpha back in New Mexico. The man who chose her never learned her name, taking from her and leaving her in a hotel bed, and Darcy regretted it always because of how much it hurt her.
Sometimes she had dreams of being in heat and the man returning, his big arms holding her down, fucking her until she cried, his knot expanding inside her, ruining her for every other mate.
She was glad at least that part didn’t happen – there was no knotting involved – but she craved it all the same. She envied everyone she knew who’d found someone. She hadn’t managed to.
It wasn’t fun being an omega with inconsistent cycles. When she was in heat she was often alone and the time seemed to stretch on forever. Playing with herself for hours at a time never seemed to scratch that particular itch.
Darcy glanced up from her chopping board, seeing Steve standing there, inspecting the ingredients on the table.
“Yeah. What gave it away?” she murmured.
He smiled at her. It was obvious – the smell. Heavy tomato and garlic scents wafted through from the kitchens.
“You gonna share?”
“Maybe. Open a bottle of wine for me and let it breathe and I’ll think about it,” she replied, throwing him another look over her shoulder.
Darcy did a lot of cooking in the kitchens because her stove in her apartment didn’t have as much space. She didn’t mind the visitors, either, and she thought they liked her back.
She enjoyed the visitors until Bucky came by one afternoon she was preparing the same lasagne, his face changing when he spotted her there.
He blinked, and then backed out of there, a frown etching on his face. Darcy had rarely seen someone move that fast away from her, and then she looked down at the garlic she was chopping, sighing.
She went into heat later that night. It was unexpected and awful. She got hardly any sleep, watching porn on her phone, using her vibrators in a rotation, charging two while she used the third, wishing her body would let her rest, let her get her bearings.
It wasn’t fair. She thought about calling in sick and booking a doctor’s appointment, picturing herself jonesing for suppressants like an insomniac craving Seconals, and she cringed.
She didn’t want suppressants, because it would still mean a chance of her finding a mate if she was in heat every once in a while.
She was in the elevator trying to sneak back up to her room after she ran out to find some coffee grounds. She could have called Jane and begged her for help but she knew she’d die from the embarrassment if her friend accidentally brushed up against her, causing her to climax.
She thought she was in the clear, until the elevator stopped and opened, revealing Bucky Barnes in the doorway. Her face flushed and she ducked, staring at the floor with the bag of coffee in her arms.
He moved inside, pressing a button. They waited as the doors closed and the elevator began to move again. Darcy tried to think of anything but being alone with Bucky, in this tiny space –
The elevator jerked and Darcy fumbled the coffee, dropping it. Everything stopped, the lights flickering.
“Oh, you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Bucky muttered to himself, pressing a button repeatedly, growling a second later.
The sound went straight between Darcy’s legs and she whimpered. She bit her lip hard, standing up again with the coffee in her arms.
Their eyes met.
“You’re in heat,” he said, and she closed her eyes, pained. “Fuckin’… hell. I knew it.”
“What?” she blurted, watching him press his back into the wall opposite her, his throat working as he swallow. “What do you mean?”
“I sensed it, in the kitchen,” he bit out. “Christ, I hoped my sense of smell was off…”
“You’re an alpha?” Darcy said, edging towards incredulous.
That was a cruel twist of fate – a prisoner of war being an alpha, crying out for a mate for decades at a time, being tortured with the absence of touch.
“You don’t have a mate?” she added, and he shook his head.
He glanced away. “Thought that was… impossible for me now. I preferred not… seekin’ it out.”
The car remained still and Darcy’s eyes fell to his arms, which were bare and glistening with sweat. He looked worked up already.
“What do I smell like? Can you smell…?”
“It’s not my place to… say,” he managed to reply, his voice tighter.
“I don’t have a mate,” she said, and his eyes snapped to hers. “I don’t take suppressants, and my cycle’s a little… unpredictable. I’m sorry for this.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
Darcy could feel it, too, the taut atmosphere, the way her clothes felt prickly against her skin. She itched to shed herself of everything. She felt too hot, the space stifling. She moved a hand to wipe her sweaty brow.
She stared at him, his smell more obvious. His musk was vaguely sweet, and fresh. She wished she knew the notes, just so she could find them again elsewhere, later, when she was alone…
Fuck, she could feel she was getting wet just from smelling him. His breathing had picked up, his eyes widening. She heard about how alphas could smell omegas’ arousal.
“Don’t look at me,” he hissed, and then he backtracked. “I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine,” Darcy whispered to the floor, her gaze elsewhere. “I understand…”
“I don’t think you do,” he replied with a mirthless chuckle, and he groaned. “I feel like I can’t breathe.”
“We both know it won’t,” he whispered.
Darcy licked her lips, thinking. The worst thing that could happen was a little awkwardness afterwards. If he didn’t want anyone knowing, she’d keep everything to herself. She moved the coffee bag in her arms, placing it on the floor.
She turned toward him, seeing his eyes squeezed shut, his chest rising and falling fast. She took a single step, waiting. Then another, and then she was right there, reaching to touch his face –
The car jolted and Darcy stumbled back, her hand still raised, Bucky’s eyes wide again as he stared at her.
“I’m sorry –”
He took her by the waist and turned them, shoving her into the wall, his mouth covering hers, his tongue hot and gliding into her mouth, smothering her.
She clamped her thighs together as he drank from her, all tongue and teeth, his hands skirting over her chest and rear. He kicked her legs apart and pushed his thigh between hers, kissing her neck, rocking into her.
The elevator stopped, the doors opening, and he moved back, his eyes black, panting.
“My floor,” Darcy whispered.
She got out from under him, her arm reaching to stop the doors from closing. The spell had broken, and Bucky seemed dazed, his mouth wet and pink as he blinked at her a couple times. What had just happened seemed to sink in and he squeezed his eyes shut, covering his face with a hand.
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone about it. If… if that’s what you want,” she whispered, and she longed to reach for him, to squeeze his hand and assure him.
She didn’t know him that well but seeing him this way already affected her, and she knew it meant the hormones were working. Soon she’d crave him, writhe around with the aching longing between her legs, her fingers and toys never enough…
“Bucky?” she whispered, and he dropped his hand, looking at her.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve…”
“Do you want to come with me?” she whispered, and he glanced at her mouth, then lower at her chest.
He blinked, shaking his head. “Bad idea, bad idea…”
“You’re allowed to,” she said. “Do you want that?”
“What?” he said, looking confused. She realized he still wasn’t used to it – having choices.
“Do you want me?”
He didn’t pause for thought. “Yeah.”
She leaned toward him, grabbing his shirt, tugging him out. She unlocked her front door, Bucky standing beside her, her stomach flipping over and over.
When the door shut behind them, she turned toward him, his mouth on hers again. She melted into it, the haze of need surrounding her again, seeping into her pores.
“I wanna… I wanna…”
He was panting, some of his words incoherent, his mouth all over her face and throat, pawing at her as they stumbled through her apartment. They reached the bedroom and Darcy remembered – her scent would be everywhere, and she’d left some of her toys out on the bedside table, her bed unmade.
“God,” he gasped, and he knelt in front of her, hands going to the button of her jeans, popping it and pulling everything down.
He was so desperate to get at her that he tore her underwear at the seams, but she didn’t mind – in fact, she thought it was the most she’d ever wanted someone, and she welcomed the desperation.
“Smell so good,” he mumbled, face going between her bare legs, hooking her thigh over his shoulder and moving his mouth up her skin in hot kisses and bites. “Wanna taste you… please…”
“God, fuck –” Darcy dissolved into a surprised moan, his tongue gliding up her cunt, and he groaned.
He wrapped his arms around her thighs, latching onto her, his nose pressed up to her pubic hair, rubbing himself on her with those bright baby blues shining up at her. He was doing exactly as he wished – tasting every part of her, tongue wriggling, his nose bumping her clit.
She made a sound, sure she was losing control of the volume already, her hands reaching to yank his hair, Bucky’s sigh against her clit setting her off.
“Oh, my God,” she moaned. “Do that again.”
He repeated the motion, the vibration of him making Darcy shiver, a smile spreading on her face. She felt him chuckle, her cunt tensing at the sensation against her clit.
“Suck my clit, and – yes, oh…. Oh…”
She came, eyes flying shut as she went still, Bucky’s tongue lapping at her, her fingers loosening their grip. She wiped her sweaty face and he pulled back, kissing her inner thighs and pressing his mouth to her mound, his breath on her making her wriggle.
“I love how you taste,” he murmured.
“What do I taste like?” Darcy whispered, stroking his hair.
He closed his eyes for a second, licking his lips, losing himself in the sensation of her hands petting him, before moving back up to kiss her on the mouth.
Darcy moaned, tasting that musk, before he pulled back. He pressed a smaller kiss to her lips, his pupils so wide, and Darcy knew she was the same, not wanting him to stop touching her even for a second.
“Jesus, where did you come from?” he whispered, and she smiled, her hands going to his jeans and popping the button.
“What do you taste like?” she retorted, and she felt it – his cock twitching toward her, thick in his boxers.
Her hand slipped inside, and her eyes dropping to where her hand disappeared, feeling the length of him, all velvet and hard heat… she sucked in a breath, going on her knees and leaning down to pull him out to her eye level.
“Fuck, I can’t fit that all in my mouth,” she whispered, and he hissed, Darcy’s tongue darting out to run up the underside of his cock, her mouth sealing on the tip of him.
She tasted the precome on his skin, the semi-salty taste, and she wanted more. She worked her tongue around him, bobbing her head, daring to look up when she managed to get to the back of her throat. She reach for his balls, cupping them, and he let out a little sound. He bit his lip, his hand flexing against the side of her face.
His cybernetic hand was gripping her shirt sleeve tight enough that the material was stretching, threatening to split like her underwear.
He was glancing down her shirt and then her mouth wrapped around his dick, not seeming to be able to make up his mind.
“Want… you,” he said, and Darcy watched his eyes widen as she pushed herself further, taking him down her throat.
Never in her whole life would there be another look so satisfying as the one he gave her then, so overwhelmed. He snapped his teeth together, groaning, his chest beginning to heave like before.
Her nose brushed his pubic hair and with every ounce of effort she had, she rubbed her nose on it, smelling his musk flood her, making her wetter.
She loved the sound of her skin rasping against his, her hand gliding up his stomach, the other still on his balls, rubbing them a little. She was rewarded with another burst of precome and she pulled back with a happy gasp, strings of spit on her chin and his cock.
She moved forward, kissing his pubic hair, laughing a little.
“Fuck, I can’t stop… I just want to smell you…”
Bucky yanked her up from the floor and she laughed more, feeling drunk, the world tilting as he gathered her up, tumbling with her onto the mattress seconds later.
He flattened her to the sheet, his hands scrambling to push down his jeans, and Darcy peeled off her shirt and bra, Bucky’s eyes never leaving her as he tugged her by the ankle, flipping her onto her stomach.
He crawled up behind her, slotting against her ass with his hips, his cock rubbing against her, making Darcy arch her back to invite him.
“Your waist is so… tiny,” he whispered, and she felt his hands wrap around her middle, nearly joining his fingers together.
He grabbed her by the chin and turned her head enough to give her a messy kiss, her hand slipping behind to feel him and he hissed, her tongue flicking against his lips.
They kept their eyes glued to one another as he pushed her back down, and she only turned her head at the last second, when she could feel the head of him brush against her.
“You really have to ask?”
“I want to,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Ask you, I mean. We could… stop.”
“I haven’t been with an alpha in years,” she murmured, watching his lips plant on her shoulder and back, going further down to her ribs, distracting her. “But last time I checked, it’s not so easy for you to… just stop.”
His teeth grazed her ass and Darcy smirked.
“I could try…”
“Don’t stop,” she said, half blurting it, unable to stop her urgency from showing. “I want you. I’m… clearly in heat…”
She could feel the slickness on her thighs, the aching coming back. She wasn’t going to be satisfied from coming once on his tongue.
“Is that… okay?” she added, eyebrows lifting.
He moved back up, kissing her with more heat, his cybernetic hand in her hair, his other wrapping around his cock between them, pushing up against her.
“Are you kiddin’? Look at you…”
He slid home and Darcy felt her toes curl, every inch of him buried deep inside her. They both moaned, and she managed to turn her head and see his face, his eyes squeezed shut. They were perfectly still as Darcy tried to catch her breath, tried to rein in the urge to scream at him to just fuck her –
“Goddamn,” he whispered, and it set her off.
“Fuck me. If you don’t…”
She didn’t get the chance to finish that sentence. It was an empty threat anyway, trailing off as Bucky began to move, his hands on her tits, his mouth at her neck. His pace was hard and fast, enough that Darcy caught her breath, shuddering with the feeling of being so full, her hands gripping the sheets.
He bit her and she began to whine, taking it, his hips smacking into her, hearing his whispers flood the edges of her mind as she saw stars, clamping down on him:
“You feel incredible… please tell me it’s as good for you –”
“You feel better…”
“Doll,” he gasped, shaking his head.
His hand trailed down her chest to her stomach, finding her clit. Darcy whimpered. She needed to come. She felt her whole body shuddering with the effort, Bucky’s thumb pressing down on her, his balls smacking into her, the sound ringing in her ears, along with:
“Come for me, Darcy. Come.”
She let out a groan, twisting beneath him, losing her vision as she came.
“There it is…”
She began to laugh weakly, a little delirious. He sped up his thrusts and she began to pant, pushing back a little, planting her hands properly. She turned her head, meeting his eye, seeing his parted lips, his sweaty skin.
“Fuck me,” she gasped. “Fuck me until you come inside me –”
He pinned her down, bucking into her fast, never enough time for her to recover, his teeth back on her, sinking into her neck.
“Wanna come… want you… want you to… be mine….”
“Do it,” she whispered. “Do it.”
“Mine,” he growled, and he stopped, shoving into her as deep as possible, and she cried out, feeling him thicken inside her, his knot exposed.
He stayed there, his hips jerking, spilling inside her.
“Mine, mine, mine…”
He panted like he ran a marathon, the silence between them heavy. Everything that transpired happened so fast and Darcy’s mind reeled with it, the words, the physical act…
There was a violence to it that she craved more of, and she pushed up against him until he moved out, his come seeping out of her onto the sheets.
“You came so much,” she mused, and he nodded dazedly, flopping down on his back, sighing.
She glanced at him, seeing his dick was still hard, and she was inspired. On shaky knees she moved toward him, throwing her leg over him, her hands flat on his chest as she descended, taking him to the hilt, her lip between her teeth.
“Fuck,” he almost shouted, his fingers digging into her thighs, and she began to rock, his eyes widening. He sounded overcome. “Jesus… you’re so messy. Messy girl…”
“Your mess,” she said, speeding up, finding an angle she wanted. Her fingers ran through the hair on his chest. “Your mess because I’m yours.”
She knew they barely knew each other, but it felt good. Better than good – like they were made for this, building each other up and falling back down together, come-sticky and sweaty, their scents marking one another.
“I wanna come with you,” he murmured, one hand moving to her swollen clit, Darcy’s hips speeding up, using his body and hand.
“I’m close,” she hissed, and she tensed, keeping her eyes on his, ducking down to kiss him, first on his mouth and then his neck, rubbing her nose at the spot behind his ear. “You smell so good…”
“God, you’re gonna make me come so hard,” he laughed, and she joined him, kissing him again.
He rolled them, cuddling her close, fucking her in long strokes, still pressing on her clit, watching her face.
“There, there,” she gasped, and he pumped faster, sweat gathering, breaths shared and hot. Darcy went still, arching her back as she came.
He lasted another couple seconds, clinging to her as he came again, curling himself around her as his hips jerked until he ran out of steam.
They panted, Bucky’s nose brushing her cheek, featherlight kisses to her skin, his eyelashes brushing her.
“That ain’t it, right?” he whispered, and they both laughed. “When gravity comes back, I’ll…”
His voice trailed off and he rolled off of her, pulling Darcy flush against him, her nose in his chest hair as she breathed him in.
Why did the elevator stop working? I don't know. Who are you, the God machine police? Or, more accurately, the Alpha Dick machine police?
Shoutout to sarahbeniel who wanted more body hair (I did, too... it takes so little for me to do as others wish in the name of smut). It's the little things...
Chapter 26: Steve/Bucky/Darcy - Smiles/Laughter
Written for a prompt from everythinghappens-love - Wintershieldshock+ "W-why are you looking at me like that?"
Thank you for sending me this prompt! There's no plot! ❤
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
He stopped her in her tracks. That didn’t happen often with Darcy anymore. She thought maybe that time had passed, that men wouldn’t do that for her – surprise her, side-track her, and make her stumble over her words.
In her defense, she’d seen a lot of shit in a short amount of time. It was a steep fucking learning curve, and then she was expected to pretend like she was no wiser? She wasn’t about to bat her eyelashes at some guy because he’d given her the slightest bit of attention. She knew Steve well enough, she thought.
It all got turned upside down when they were at a party on the compound, and he brought her a drink and she kissed him on the cheek hello. He looked at her like she as precious. That made Darcy pause, smile up at him as she took the red cup full of beer.
“Where’s Bucky?” she asked.
“Around. Where’s your boyfriend?” he threw back, and Darcy tilted her head, grinning wider.
“Oh… you’re so obvious,” she murmured, and he laughed. “You know he doesn’t exist. I’m here all by my lonesome, which is why you got me this drink and you’re talking to me…”
“Hmm,” he replied, sipping his drink.
“At least you’re not like my mom, asking why I’m all by myself.”
“Not my business,” he murmured.
Darcy threw back her head and laughed, a genuine one. She covered her mouth for a second to smother the sound a little, leaning closer to Steve.
There was a flash of something in his eyes and she glanced away, drinking. She could see Bucky in the other room, leaning against a wall and talking to Sam. Her gaze swung back to Steve to see him still looking at her intently. Her stomach flipped.
“W-Why are you looking at me like that?”
“How am I lookin’ at you, Darce?” he murmured.
He looked like he was inspecting her, his eyes open and unblinking. He made her feel like she was stuck in place. He was getting better at that, making her feel like a target. Not that he meant anything by it. Maybe he was taking more lessons from Natasha.
“Like… like you’re flirting with me,” she replied, shrugging a shoulder. “But we both know you flirt with everyone, and you’re not serious… it’s harmless…”
Maybe that would burst the bubble, but she didn’t like people being fake around her. She didn’t think Steve was dishonest, she thought it was just him being Steve. Friendly and cheeky.
She went quiet, looking back at him, feeling the hairs begin to stand up on the back of her neck. She watched him take a breath and lean closer to her so his mouth was at her ear.
“We’re gonna have sex.”
He moved back and she stared back at him, frozen in place. He nodded, sipping.
She needed him to clarify he was joking. She needed to hear it said out loud again so she could dismiss it more easily. He was being incredibly unfair.
His lips pulled into a smile.
“We’re gonna have sex,” he said again.
She twisted her neck to make a show of looking at Bucky standing through the doorway to the living room. She half expected the Curb Your Enthusiasm theme music to begin blasting through the speakers that was currently playing Rihanna’s Birthday Cake.
“He knows,” Steve added, when Darcy looked back at him again. “It was his idea. Sort of.”
“Bucky’s idea for you and me to have sex?”
“I should clarify,” he said, touching her arm as if to assure her. “His idea for the three of us to have sex.”
Darcy gaped, and he smiled again.
“You’re making fun of me,” she said eventually, dropping her voice.
“A little,” he admitted. “I’m makin’ fun of you a little… but…”
He was serious. His demeanour changed and she saw it – the glimmer of hope. She glanced over at Bucky, to see him looking right back at her.
“Can we leave now?” she blurted, and she felt his hand touch her back, his low chuckle in her ear.
“Of course, the second Buck looks at you like that –”
“What, I would think you’ve experienced that up close.”
“I have,” Steve said, and he moved closer to her, his hand reaching for her face, taking hold of her chin to tilt her head up. “But I’m feelin’ a little jealous.”
His thumb brushed her lower lip. She went still, his thumb pressing down until her mouth opened slightly, and she blushed.
“Let’s go,” he said.
He let her go, and Darcy walked out, weaving through the people, feeling Bucky and Steve behind her. She waved goodbye to Wanda and other people who noticed her on her way, but luckily no-one asked where she was going, or why the Super Soldier boyfriends were trailing behind her like they were a three-person wolf pack.
It was dark and cool outside, the crickets chirping as they took the short walk toward the residence quarters. Darcy’s heart was racing, but she was pretending otherwise, walking precisely. She didn’t want to seem desperate, running ahead to kick down a door. She felt a hand – Steve’s, and she didn’t know how she guessed it right, but she did – on her shoulder, slipping to the nape of her neck and squeezing, her eyes snapping up to meet his.
She glanced at Bucky behind her other flank and held out her hand. She spoke to him earlier and she treasured every smile her ever sent her way, but this was different – his skin meeting hers made her stomach flutter with anticipation.
So you could say she had a crush. Or two.
They came to a front door, Steve steering her toward it, so she knew it was his place. It unlocked with his thumbprint on the pad above the doorknob and Darcy opened the door.
She walked down the hallway to the living room, seeing the sparse furniture and the bookshelf. She glanced at the ceiling.
“FRIDAY, put something on.”
“You want a drink?” Steve asked and she glanced at him, seeing the men standing there, watching her circle the living room.
She nodded. “Beer.”
Steve disappeared and Darcy watched Bucky, seeing his hands in his jacket pockets, his big blue eyes looking back at her.
“Something from my playlist, FRIDAY.”
A song began and Darcy turned on the spot, sighing, trying to relax. She felt incredibly sober, that beer from earlier doing nothing for her now. She swayed a little, the intro to the rock tune lingering, slower than she remembered.
Steve returned with a beer for each of them, pulling Darcy closer to him, smiling at her as she tilted her head back to drink. His hand felt very warm on her lower back. His pinkie was just above her ass.
“You don’t dance,” she murmured.
“I’m gettin’ better... what’re we listenin’ to, anyway?”
“Led Zeppelin,” Darcy and Bucky said together, and she looked at Bucky in surprise.
She would have kissed him for that alone. Steve chuckled. Bucky put down his beer on the coffee table and moved closer so Darcy was between them, lowering his head to press his lips to the back of her head.
“I love this song,” she murmured, lowering her bottle and letting herself move, feeling hands on her hips, closing her eyes.
Lips brushed her face and neck. She felt the tickle of Bucky’s facial hair, Steve’s firm but supple lips gliding down to her chin.
“How’re we meant to… do this?” she whispered, pressed between them, the air a little thinner the further they went.
“Can I kiss you?” she heard Bucky whisper and she turned her head, seeing him right there, his breath on her mouth.
His question seemed to answer hers and she nodded, his head ducking to brush his lips against hers, his hand coming up to cup her face.
It was a chaste kiss that turned more thorough, his tongue slipping between her lips as she felt Steve’s teeth graze her throat, hands wandering to her front.
She didn’t want to overthink it, she just wanted, wanted them both so much, in whatever capacity that was.
Steve’s rough grabs of her tits over her shirt made her moan into Bucky’s mouth, arching into him, feeling Steve’s mouth mark her skin on her clavicle.
She sucked Bucky’s tongue into her mouth and he groaned, his fingers threading into her hair and tugging her. She felt Steve descending, his hands splayed down her stomach and ass, fingers working her jeans, pulling them down.
She broke off the kiss to check she wasn’t imagining what was happening, seeing Steve expose her cunt, licking his lips. Darcy took hold of Bucky’s arms as she hopped out of the jeans, Steve tugging them off her ankles and tossing them aside.
Bucky kissed her again, Steve’s hands gliding up her thighs as he settled on the floor. She gasped when she felt his tongue start to lick up her in long strokes, dipping inside her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, kissing Bucky like she was trying to fight with him, yanking his hair, wanting to hear him unravel more. She kept moaning, feeling her thighs begin to twitch with each swipe of Steve’s tongue. She twisted a little, before Steve’s arms wrapped around her thighs to keep her in place. He moved up with a soft groan, suckling on her clit.
“Oh, my God,” she gasped, breaking off her kiss with Bucky, his mouth bumping her face as she turned away, a whimper escaping her lips.
Steve had a determined glint in his eye as he went for it, sucking her and petting her core with the tip of his middle finger, not quite pushing inside her but torturing her instead, bringing her closer to the edge.
She hissed when Bucky ducked to bite her neck, the cool metal of his cybernetic hand slipping under her shirt and cupping her breast.
Steve pulled back for a second, gasping, smiling, his hands rubbing her ass cheeks, before he dove back in, flicking his tongue fast as he hummed in appreciation against her clit.
Darcy felt her climax like a warm euphoria beginning at her core and seeping all the way down to her toes and the tips of her fingers. She panted through it, closing her eyes at the last second as she let go, Steve’s groan invading her ears as he lapped at her, never wasting a drop.
She stumbled and he caught her, chuckling against her inner thigh, and she touched his head, sighing, feeling looser.
“Steve,” she gasped, and he came up to kiss her on the mouth, wet and sticky against her.
She felt Bucky’s arm wrap around her middle and pull her away, and she gave a surprised little laugh at the look on Steve’s face.
“M’feelin’ left out,” Bucky whispered, turning Darcy to kiss her again, and he laughed against her mouth at her enthusiasm.
It was a beautiful sound, hearing Bucky laugh like that, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, putting everything into it, feeling Steve press up behind her, his hips against her ass.
He pulled back, moving to kiss Steve. Up close, Darcy could feel the intimacy of the moment so profoundly that she felt as though she was intruding, and all she could do was watch and wait for them to acknowledge her again.
“You okay?” Steve asked, his mouth at her ear, and she felt his hand dip down to cup her, his fingers gliding through her wetness. “I feel more than okay…”
“I want you,” she whispered. “Both of you –”
Bucky cut her off with a kiss, gathering her up again and she was lifted from the floor, and she smiled, managing to break away to look down at Bucky.
“Want to put my mouth on you…”
She was set down on Steve’s bed and she went straight for Bucky’s fly, his hands in her hair as she made her descent, feeling Steve’s hands on her back and rear end.
She glanced over her shoulder at Steve and saw he was unbuckling his belt and she smiled crookedly, and Steve shook his head at her, smiling.
“At the same time? How could you pass that up?” she teased, and she saw him take out his dick and stroke himself, hissing as she dipped her hand into Bucky’s underwear and felt the hard length of him.
“Take off your shirt,” Steve said, and she felt Bucky’s hands tug and they did it together, along with her bra.
She grabbed at Bucky’s hips and pulled him closer, smiling up at him as she took him out of his underwear, stroking him. His lips parted and he hissed, pulling her into another kiss. He let her go a second later, her head ducking to wrap her lips around the tip of him, swirling her tongue.
She felt Steve press on her back and then the brushing of him between her ass cheeks and she moaned. She began to bob her head when he sank into her, her breath hitching at the sudden fullness. When Steve began to thrust into her with his hands wrapped around her waist Darcy couldn’t keep quiet, letting Bucky fall out of her mouth as she tried to catch her breath.
“You a giver or a taker?” Steve whispered and she moaned, knowing the answer was both, they all knew it.
“Bucky,” she whined, and she reached him again, wanting her mouth full, wanting to distract herself from Steve driving into her, dragging against her G-Spot as she sucked greedily.
“Ah, fuck,” Bucky moaned, and his hands were in her hair, not pulling enough for her liking.
“Don’t be gentle,” Steve said to him, and Darcy moaned. “She got so much tighter just then –”
“Jesus,” Bucky whispered, and Darcy’s hand found his balls to play with them, swallowing what she could, feeling her eyes begin to stream.
Bucky’s grip tightened and she thought she’d see stars, Steve smacking into her hard. She felt feral, succumbing to it, letting herself lose control.
“Wanna make her come,” Bucky said, and Steve pinched her clit without warning and Darcy went still, not even moving her mouth.
She came with a muffled groan, Bucky pulling out of her as she began to shake and pant, falling down onto the bed. She was vaguely aware of Steve pulling out of her and coming on her stomach, before he leaned down to kiss her more gently than before.
“He wants to make you come,” Steve whispered, tilting his head toward Bucky, and Darcy nodded, a little dazed.
Steve rolled onto his side, watching Bucky climb over, hitching Darcy’s thigh over his hip.
“Tell him what you want,” Steve whispered, and Darcy nodded.
“Bucky, fuck me,” she whispered, feeling her face go a little redder.
Bucky leaned down, pushing inside her, gasping at the feel of her and Darcy followed, their noses brushing. Her stomach felt sticky with come and sweat, Steve’s hand kneading one of her breasts, his lips at her ear.
“You take it so well. He’s so happy, look…”
She laughed, a little delirious, until Bucky kissed her, slow at first, his hips beginning to grind. They were both thicker than she was used to, edging toward too much, especially, when he pushed Darcy’s leg up higher to his shoulder.
“This was all your idea?” she whispered, and she began to giggle. “It’s the quiet ones you’ve got to look out for…”
“Yeah?” he threw back, and his hips picked up speed, his grin dazzling.
“I think my… brain’s broken,” she gasped, feeling the mirth bubble up, giggling more, Steve and Bucky joining in. Her hips lifted as she felt Bucky’s cybernetic thumb rub her clit.
She laughed through the orgasm, elated. She kissed them both, trying to reach them at the same time, wanting to cling onto someone…
“I’m… I’m scared I don’t want this to stop,” she whispered, and she was smiling but she felt her heart sink. “I’m scared I’ll never want to let either of you go…”
“Then don’t,” Bucky replied, and he went still, taking her face in his hands, Steve kissing her cheek. “Don’t let us go.”
“Okay… okay…” Darcy murmured, nodding. She smiled, glancing at Steve and then Bucky. “I just wanna… keep smiling –”
Bucky kissed her hard, making her moan, Steve’s chuckle in her ear, before:
“Where do you want him to come, sweetheart?”
The question itself thrilled her, and the petname made her melt.
“In me,” she whispered, Bucky’s lips on her throat, and he moaned. “Fuck… Bucky –”
“Didn’t realize that inside was an option,” Steve cut in, and she laughed. “Maybe next time…”
“Yeah,” she breathed, “N-next time –”
Bucky devoured her, and she felt him twitch inside her, groaning. She was pinned to the bed, feeling Steve’s fingers thread through hers. Bucky moved back, kissing her forehead before flopping down beside her.
“Next time?” Darcy asked, unable to keep the smirk from her face.
She giggled as Steve tugged her under him, waggling his eyebrows, and she snorted.
“Give Buck about ten minutes –”
“Or ten seconds,” Bucky cut in, squinting at them both. “Don’t make me… come over there…”
Darcy began to laugh, and he turned onto his side, smiling at her.
Chapter 27: Steve/Darcy - Against a wall
Post-Infinity War angst and smut.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Sometimes he let Nat to Voicemail. He had a less crappy Tuesday morning, so he answered her call after a few rings.
“I wouldn’t bother you unless it was serious.”
“I know,” he murmured.
He glanced out his window, seeing two middle-aged men arguing in the street. It was 549 days since Thanos came to Earth. He saw the two guys at it yesterday, and last week, too. His neighbors liked to argue. He shut his window abruptly, closing the shades.
“What is it this time?”
Nat cut to the chase. In all the years he’d known her, she never acted like she wasn’t in the middle of something. The woman never took a vacation, never took a second to rest.
“It’s the same group, they’re operating all over. We’re stretched too thin to properly investigate.”
He waited for her to say it, but she didn’t, so instead he murmured:
“You need my expertise.”
That meant a lot of different things. Before the war, that meant drawing, on birthday cards or street signs. There was a time when Steve was an artist. Then came Hitler and HYDRA and Erskine, and his skillset expanded to his fists and enhanced abilities. He was a tactician, a weapon. After he woke from the ice, he was an Avenger.
And then Thanos fucked all of that up and he had to pick up the pieces, help those left behind. He knew Nat meant for him to use his words, to motivate others in need.
“I wouldn’t call her reckless, because that would mean there was a smarter way to do what she’s doing.”
“Who are you talking about?”
There was a pause on Nat’s end and Steve could hear the neighbors start up again.
“Do you remember a story Thor told us once when we got shawarma?”
Thor had many stories. Thinking of him now, what Steve remembered of the Norse god and who he’d become were two different people. He used to take pain in his stride. He and Steve would make it a competition, their friendly rivalry a balm for all the chaos of battle.
“The one about him landing in Puente Antiguo and getting tasered.”
Steve rubbed his eyes, picturing Thor’s animated face.
“The girl who tasered him, she didn’t dust.”
“She in trouble?”
“Maybe you should come by, see what I mean.”
It might break up some of the weeks that had strung together. He knew she was trying to give him a mission. Steve glanced at his car keys that rested on his desk.
“Her name is Darcy Lewis.”
He glanced at the holofile Nat had open, seeing a woman in her early thirties with a heart-shaped face and full lips, wearing a pair of glasses and a beanie.
“What did she do?”
“She’s an expert hacker. When she worked for Jane Foster over the years, there were a number of incidents involving her.”
Her file was sparse, showing she was born roughly seventy years after him in Chicago, her parents listed as deceased.
“She’s kept it up, and she’s got better.” She exchanged a look with Steve. “She’s almost as good as me. Almost.”
“Of course,” he replied, though he was sure Nat would never admit to being outwitted.
“She’s improved enough that she frequently remote hacks our systems, hence why the file I have on her is so small. I tend to keep hers as a hard copy.”
He didn’t believe Nat would involve him in something as simple as hacking SHIELD. She licked her lips.
“She won’t talk to me.”
“What’s she done?” he asked.
She began bringing up news articles, reports of online theft, data being dumped and so on.
“Her group hacks the rich so they can give to the poor.”
“And she’ll listen to me because -?”
“She’d consider you the type of person to look out for the little guy.”
He glanced at her photo again.
“Where is she?”
“Last spotted in the East Village two days ago. She operates all over the city. She sometimes has other people take her in, but as far as we know, she doesn’t have a permanent residence.”
“Why us, why not leave this up to the FBI, or -?”
“A familiar face would mean we could flip her more easily.”
“I’m not recruiting a random girl…”
“There are dozens in her little army. They’re currently redistributing enough wealth to cause another financial crisis.”
Steve dropped his voice lower. “The world economy is already screwed up, Nat.”
She sighed. “She’s going to get herself killed. I’d do it, but…”
Steve nodded. “Okay. I’ll see if I can make contact.”
He didn’t promise anything but Nat looked grateful.
“You stay here and keep the lights on,” he added, and she gave him a little smile.
Darcy’s movements reminded Steve of a well-oiled machine. Everything was measured. She took her time, giving the appearance of someone on their way to something urgent without seeming like she was fleeing.
He was better at pursuit and hiding since he was on the run, but she was better. At one moment when he managed to keep himself close enough to sense her in the middle of a crowd, he lost her, turning a corner to check if she had slipped away. He was met with cool metal at his throat, Darcy’s knife resting against his skin. Her eyes were sharp, her lips curling as she gazed up at him.
“I had a feeling it was you,” she murmured. “I just had to be sure.”
“Verdict?” he managed to reply, and Darcy blinked once, twice.
“That van’s been following us for the last ten minutes.”
Steve could make out an outline of a vehicle in the corner of his eye but didn’t turn his head. Darcy lowered her knife.
“Not with me.”
“I might be seeing things. But either way, we need to go,” she replied, and she moved on, slipping further into the dark of the alleyway.
She didn’t say a word, weaving through parked cars and pedestrians when they reached a main street.
“You’re buying me dinner,” she said without looking at him.
They ducked into a diner, only for Darcy to move to the back, the girl at the register lifting the bench for her to duck under and Steve followed, hearing heavy rap music playing from the room beyond. An overweight guy with a dirty black hoodie lifted a hand holding a joint in greeting, his eyes resting on Steve’s face.
“He’s not here,” Darcy said, and the guy nodded, leaving them alone.
She put a finger to her lips and Steve kept still, until Darcy was satisfied, lowering her finger and rubbing her face.
“I’m guessing this isn’t a curtesy call.”
“One incident would warrant that. But you’re more than a blip on our radar. From what I read –”
“I don’t see any cuffs on you,” she cut in, tilting her head to inspect him, and Steve felt a flare of something he thought his body had long forgotten – arousal – deep in his stomach.
“No,” he replied.
“And you're not armed.”
“I doubt it’d cost you much to take me out with your bare hands.”
He felt like he knew her, and maybe he did a little because of reading some of the case file Nat had been building. It was more than that. She almost seemed too familiar to him and years ago Steve would have welcomed it. Now, nine times out of ten that type of friendliness came across as false to him. He should know all about lying since he did enough of it himself.
“Why the trip?”
“Came to talk you down.”
Her brows lifted as she crossed her arms over her ample chest hidden beneath a men’s t-shirt.
“I’m not going to stop just because you asked me nicely.”
“Stop doing what, exactly?”
A moment passed between them and she smiled, glancing away.
“Oh… I’m not about to incriminate myself, no matter how much you try to make me swoon, Captain Rogers.”
Steve didn’t think he was really laying the charm on her, so her comment caught him off-guard, his lips parting to argue, but Darcy moved, slipping past him to take the exit. He was right behind her, watching as she threw herself up to grab a fire escape ladder and begin to climb.
“Where are you going?” he called after her, and Darcy glanced down at him, frowning.
“This meeting doesn’t require more than two sets of ears.”
He followed her up, ducking through an open window. It stank, the apartment abandoned evidently some time ago, and Darcy threw down her backpack, unzipping it and taking out a Clif bar. She held up a second one which Steve declined with the slightest shake of his head.
“You sure? It’s white chocolate and macadamia.”
“I’m good. You live here?”
“Not really,” she replied, chomping her bar.
It smelt vaguely of mint. She chewed fast and swallowed. He could see she was hungry. He thought about actually taking her somewhere for a decent meal, something hot and filling, with a tall glass of beer. He thought of those pubs in England he went to decades ago, the food disgusting but welcome.
“What’s the endgame here?” she mumbled, swallowing her mouthful.
He blinked at her, realizing he was staring. She was beautiful and weary, her eyes tired.
“I… don’t know,” he admitted. “Except that if you don’t stop, you’re going to die.”
She let out a short laugh like a bark, eating the rest of the bar. She shoved the empty wrapper away, contemplating the second bar before putting it back in her bag.
“I’ve heard it before.”
“You know it’s wrong,” he said, and she met his eyes, narrowing her own. He pressed on. “I don’t meant to sound patronizing –”
“And yet you are,” Darcy muttered.
“I’m told I do it so well,” he said.
“Who said that the last time? Tony Stark?” she said.
He hadn’t seen Tony in months. Their correspondence ran dry. He didn’t meet his kid when she was born like Nat had. It was clear that the friendship they shared was damaged beyond repair from the years Steve spent on the run, sticking to his guns.
“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you about wrong and right…”
“Hell fucking no, Steve,” she said. “I read the Accords and I’m on your side, I guess, but all of that was fucked up. And then you hid James Barnes –”
“I didn’t hide him,” he snapped, and he felt the façade begin to crumble, the one he’d used for months to hold himself together.
He was so angry inside, angry and hurt.
“If you know anything about Bucky, then you’d know he was in Wakanda,” he said, his tone levelled.
Darcy’s eyes flitted to her bag and she picked it up again, taking out her laptop. He watched her open it and connect some cables together, beginning to type.
“Agent Romanoff sent you because she knows I’d respond better to a guy like you,” she murmured, and Steve didn’t know what to respond with.
Honesty seemed the best policy. He only nodded, and she sighed.
“I wonder if she knows about the project I did on you when I was twelve.”
He felt his lips curl for a second as she smirked, the screen of her laptop reflecting in her glasses as she kept tapping on the keys.
“Knowing Nat? Probably,” he murmured. “Probably knows what grade you got on it, too.”
“B-minus,” she murmured, tutting.
A chuckle ebbed from his lips, the sound surprising him. Her eyes swung to meet his.
“That’s a shame.”
“It’s bullshit,” she amended. “I wrote a very compelling essay. I think my teacher didn’t approve of the amount of photographs I tried to include in my presentation.”
There was a silence and she kept typing, her gaze shifting back to him after a minute or so.
“You look the same. I don’t think you really age.”
He disagreed. Each morning that he saw himself in the mirror, he could see the years on his face. He knew arguing with her served no purpose, so he let it go. Then it occurred to him that it was her half-hearted attempt at flirting, the brief glimmer in her eye as he looked back at her.
“You can’t stay here,” he said, changing the subject. “It stinks.”
“I won’t,” she retorted. “I need to keep moving anyway. Since you know I’m here, I’m sure others will notice. And then you telling me my life is on the line –”
“Because it is,” he said, folding his arms.
She had the audacity to roll her eyes.
“I’m aware. And you people at SHIELD should stop trying to draw attention to me, too –”
“I don’t work for SHIELD anymore,” Steve murmured.
“Oh, I know,” she said, eyes slightly wider.
She kept typing the entire time, never once stalling for their conversation. If Steve was around it too long he was sure the incessant clacking of the keys would give him a headache.
“What are you doing right now, anyway?”
“Sending money to a battered women’s shelter in Ohio.”
He tilted his head. “Whose money -?”
She cut off his question with her own. “Did you know that before he dusted, Jeff Bezos was earning a billion dollars a week?”
Steve blinked. “I didn’t know that –”
“He was the founder of Amazon and he was earning a billion dollars every week. A billion dollars. Amazon workers earn less than fourteen dollars an hour.”
The pitch of her voice had risen a few notches, and she finally stopped typing.
“The people you’re stealing from are all dead,” Steve said, and she nodded.
“I’m evening the odds,” she murmured.
He closed his eyes, sighing. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
She sat up, snapping her laptop shut, startling Steve. She shoved it away in her bag, hitching onto her shoulder.
“Nat didn’t want to call you reckless,” he began, watching her pack everything up, her eyes wild. She glared at him. “And maybe she’s wrong –”
“I’m not suicidal,” she snapped. “I don’t need you analyzing me. I need you to leave me alone, so I can do something good –”
“What, like you?”
She turned toward him and he took a step back.
“Lying to people at your group therapy sessions about how you’ve moved on, when you’re constantly visiting the memorial?”
He stopped in his tracks, his mouth falling open in shock. In the time for him to process what she said, she was moving toward the window.
“Did you have people following me?” he whispered, and she turned her head toward him, her face slackening.
“I… I didn’t have to,” she said, her hands dropping to her sides. “I saw you myself, once.”
She looked at the ground, closing her eyes. She sucked in a breath.
She moved to open the window but Steve was faster, grabbing her wrist and twisting her around, his heart racing. It was too much, seeing her this way – and he wondered why it mattered, this stranger who was hacking and squatting in apartments. He wondered what she’d done to deserve his attention, when for months – because she was right – he had been lying to the people he counselled. It was why he no longer went into the street whenever his neighbors fought to try and break it up. He’d stopped trying.
He cut her off with a kiss, and she made a sound like a whimper, his hands taking hold of her and spinning her away from the window, backing her against the wall. She shuffled, her bag coming off her shoulders, his tongue slipping between her lips.
He wasn’t thinking. He wasn’t himself. He tried to justify it, when really, he just wanted her. He wanted to feel something genuine, even if it hurt. And he hurt so much, deep in his chest, and he could feel she was the same.
Her hands went to his slacks, unbuckling his belt and fly, his mouth on her neck, breathing in the scent on her soft skin. Something like baby powder, and sweat. Her body odor was making him hard – that, and the sounds she was making in his ear like she couldn’t contain herself.
He lifted her up, her thighs wrapping around him, their pants pulled down, and he saw between her legs, her pink little pussy. He kissed her hard, and he was rougher than usual, he knew he could try to be kinder – but he didn’t care, and she didn’t demand it, either, all she did was beg him to fuck her and he pushed inside her, his forehead pressed to hers –
She moaned, arching her back so she went further up the wall, exposing her neck. He began to move, hard and slow, both of them panting. He kept knocking her into the wall, lost in the tight slick of her, closing his eyes finally...
They rocked together, and he could feel it building, his balls already tightening, his breathing getting shallower. He wasn’t going to last much longer and kissed her again, trying his best to not think about it, how wrong this all was –
Her cunt suddenly tightened around him and he glanced down, seeing her hand between them, bringing herself off, her eyes squeezed shut.
“Fuck,” he groaned, and he pulled out of her, still holding her up with one arm while his other hand held his cock, coming in his fist.
It took three whole seconds for the guilt to set in, and he tucked himself back in his pants, looking down at the mess on his hand.
“Let me get you dinner.”
“What? No,” she said, and he glanced at her, seeing her face soften. “You don’t… have to. Just because we – Jesus Christ…”
She put her face in her hands and sighed.
He bought her a slice of pizza. He watched her eat it in silence as they sat opposite one another in a booth.
“You gonna be okay?” she murmured, which surprised him.
He tried his best to wash up in the bathroom earlier but he could smell her on him, and he wondered if he’d remember the scent long after he left her.
“Yeah. Do you want to get a hotel?”
He’d rather cut to the chase than try and teeter his way around it awkwardly. Barebacking in an abandoned apartment seemed to cut out his desire to keep some kind of distance from her. The longer he was around her, the more he wanted her.
He didn’t want to think about what it meant – wanting to help her, touch her. Make her smile, maybe.
She thought about his suggestion, looking out the window. She swallowed.
He kept looking at her as they rode the elevator up to their room an hour later. The hotel was moderately priced, advertising a great breakfast buffet option. Steve didn’t expect Darcy to stay the night to enjoy her eggs however she liked them in the morning.
When he unlocked the hotel door and let them in, Darcy walked straight into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Steve could hear her run the bath and let out a sigh, and he sat down on the bed and turned on the TV.
He was alone, listening to her splash around in there for a little while, and he lay down, closing his eyes. At one point he heard her drain the bath and open the bathroom door, steam flooding into the room. He felt the bed shift as she sat down and he opened his eyes, seeing her there, wrapped in a white fluffy towel.
Instead of saying anything, he moved up to kiss her, rolling them so she was under him, unwrapping the towel and tracing his hands over her exposed skin, so warm and soft from the bath.
He was slower than before, gentle. She reached for his belt buckle again, both of them gasping when he filled her slowly and steadily, her thighs wrapped around his middle.
Everything made more sense with her. He got what he wanted, he didn’t have to lie. They made love, her legs still tangled with his afterwards, his face hovering above hers.
“You don’t want me to die, because if I did – you’d be letting Thor down,” she murmured, and he nodded. “Both you and Romanoff feel responsible.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice rough. “But it’s also –”
“I know,” she murmured back. “I know…”
He didn’t have to say it – he was heartbroken. She knew it, and most likely felt it herself. He liked her, and he cared about her.
“I’ll… tie up some loose ends. Liquidate,” she said, tracing his face with her fingertips. “Most of the job is already done.”
They went quiet and he saw her eyes go glassy and she cleared her throat.
“Anyway. Gotta move on. We have to.”
“You really believe that?” he murmured.
“No,” she whispered, and they both smiled at one another, a little pained. “I won’t turn myself in, though.”
“Nat said you’re not on any other agency’s radar,” he said, and she looked surprised. “She made sure.”
The third time they had sex, she was on top, and afterwards he cried, but she never said a word, didn’t try to make him stop.
She left him a note about meeting him at the memorial in three weeks. The post scriptum made him laugh out loud:
At least we'll always have that wall in that piece of shit apartment.
Darcy heard the overlapping gunfire from the TV as she came inside, peeling off her sweater as she moved through the apartment.
She just worked out for the first time in weeks, and she suspected Nat knew that already, but it didn’t stop the former Russian assassin from kicking her ass. Darcy was seconds away from accusing Nat of being a sadist, but then the redhead flashed her a smile and handed her a new pair of expensive SHIELD issue leggings that fitted her like a second skin. She changed into the leggings and finished the intense workout, going to find Bucky when they were done.
“That you?” she heard him call, and she smiled to herself.
“Who’s ‘you’?” she yelled, going to the fridge to grab a couple beers.
She wandered into the living room, seeing his feet propped up on the coffee table, playing Call of Duty. She was happier to find him alone, but he seemed distracted. She put a beer down for him, kissing his forehead, his eyes flitting from hers and back to the screen.
“I thought I’d stay the night.”
“Mm?” he murmured.
He was lightning fast. She never dreamt of trying to beat him at this game. His reaction timing was superior to the point of it being unfair. She thought about the amount of money he could make playing games in tournaments.
“I was gonna stay over.”
He looked at her properly, smiling. “Yeah?”
He was too cute.
“Yeah,” she replied.
She sunk into the space beside him and he got back to the game. She shifted on her butt from side to side, glancing at his bare arms, seeing the tendons and hair. She didn’t know how, but he could seduce her by doing nothing at all – he was just a pleasure to look at. Even looking at his hands holding the controller was making her want to wrap her arms and legs around him and lick him all over…
She bit her lip, watching him stare straight ahead. She leaned back, sipping her beer, her eyes falling to his back, the broad muscles there. She scooted back reaching down to take off her socks. She tossed them, hitting his shoulder, one of them landing in his lap.
“Did you just throw your socks at me?” he said, a hint of a smile on his face.
They both knew he would have seen them coming and decided to let her get away with it. Darcy smirked.
“Yeah. What are you going to do about it?”
His voice trailed off and he shot several guys in a couple seconds before reloading. Darcy blinked at him, a little disappointed. She knew she was guilty of this as well, especially when she had food pictures on Instagram open. She moved off the couch and walked the few steps to the TV screen and stood beside where it sat against the wall.
Bucky’s eyes rested on her for half a second and she placed her hands on her hips, moving them down to grab at her shirt.
She pulled off her racerback top, tossing it on the floor. She stood with her sports bra on, looking at Bucky, smiling.
“You puttin’ on a show for me?” he murmured.
She loved that he wasn’t playing dumb. His eyes roved her bare skin and she felt her cheeks flush. She nodded, putting her hands in the air and doing a little spin, Bucky’s chuckle spurring her on. She knew she was being more dorky than alluring but he seemed to like it, leaning forward with the controller still in his hands, his blue eyes trained on her as she moved. Her hands glided down her sides to her hips, thumbs hooking on the waistband of her leggings as she gradually shimmied them down, showing a patch of bare hip and upper thigh. She rolled them down, shaking her rear a little as she turned, bending over as she yanked them off.
She quickly stepped out of the leggings and kicked them aside, seeing Bucky was up from his seat, the controller clattering on the floor, his game forgotten.
He wrapped his arms around her and she began to giggle, Bucky lifting her off her feet and carrying her back to the couch, landing so Darcy was in his lap, his lips brushing hers.
“I’m kinda sweaty –”
“You smell great,” he whispered. “It’s doin’ things to me…”
He kissed her neck, his hands reaching for her underwear to rub her over the material, Darcy’s breath hitching.
His tongue slipped between her lips, his fingers pressing down on her clit as she rocked, his other hand cupping the back of her head. She pulled back, shoving her underwear down and stepping out of them, Bucky’s hands going to pull down his sweatpants enough to get his cock free.
“You weren’t wearing underwear?” Darcy hissed, and he shook his head, unaware of what that did to her. “Fuck…”
She climbed back on top of him, rubbing her cunt against him as they kissed, Bucky’s moans mingling with hers, his hands going to behind her back to unhook her sports bra.
Darcy pulled it off, making a show of swinging it above her head before throwing it aside and Bucky laughed, his eyes bright.
“You’re so fuckin’ cute,” he whispered, and he kissed her hard, fumbling to get off his own shirt.
Darcy’s hands went up and down his chest, nails scraping, before she nuzzled at his chest hair, smelling his own musk. She reached between them and aimed his cock upwards, angling her hips to sink onto him.
Bucky brought his knees up until his thighs brushed her ass, and Darcy closed her eyes. It was always this way at first when he was inside her. She’d feel overwhelmed, treasuring their little world created together.
He began to rock and she opened her eyes, seeing his parted lips, his big blue eyes taking her in. He kissed her, lingering and sweet.
He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, refusing to close them as long as she was in his arms. It didn't mean he didn't become heavy-lidded, caught up in the sensations. Darcy liked him best that way - altogether clumsy and loving her, losing focus. He was his most human that way, so open to her touch.
They made love slowly, at least, at first. Darcy managed to get carried away pretty fast after the first orgasm and rode Bucky until he threw his head back and came, his nails biting into the widest part of her hips. It was deadly satisfying, every time - satisfying him.
After, sweaty and a little worn out, she sat in Bucky's lap with the controller, his lips pressed to her neck as she played, his hands covering hers.
"You're getting better at killing," he murmured, and Darcy began to laugh.
I don't think I'll ever get sick of writing these two. Never ever.
Chapter 29: Nomad!Steve/Darcy - Sleepy Sex
A sequel to Day 13. I wanted some more Nomad Steve.
Edit: should have warned about the angst, sorry
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Darcy lifted her head from the pillow they shared and she took in the surroundings, remembering where she was. She had only several hours left with him before Nat was going to knock on their hotel door, signalling it was time to go.
Twenty-four hours with her fugitive boyfriend. If that’s what he was – her boyfriend. Steve was definitely a fugitive. That was never disputed.
She’d spent the last several weeks holding onto their one night in that undisclosed base. Darcy knew she was being followed in Albuquerque. She was quite sure that her new neighbor whose name was Gerald was some type of federal agent. She never acknowledged this, though it was so tempting, especially with how folksy he came across at first. She was sure he’d make switch if she brought it up, and then she’d have even more trouble sleeping at night than she already did.
She was right about those nightmares cropping up after she was rescued. She dreamed of being snatched off the street, gloved hands over her mouth as she was forced into a van. She never went anywhere alone at night, she woke up sweating and shivering. She kept seeing parked cars in the street outside her apartment block, every one of them suspicious.
She was sure her phone was bugged, her apartment was probably bugged, her car, her cubicle at work. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t ask for Steve to rescue her.
Some weeks she was okay. Tentatively so, she was the word ‘okay’. The worst week she couldn’t leave her apartment without thinking she’d be gunned down and her mother kept calling and calling, asking her why she was getting these edible arrangements sent to their house. She didn’t know if she could try figuring out whatever code there had to be to the chocolate bouquets.
“It’s fine, Mom,” she murmured, when she finally called her back. “It’s probably some neighbor’s ex trying to get them back.”
“No, I’m sure they’re for you,” her mom replied, sounding like she was at the end of her tether. “Can you please come by and take them home?”
Darcy left that morning, a Saturday, seeing Gerald on her way out coming back from walking his dog. She wondered if it was government issued, the Chihuahua named Jim Morrison. It could be Gerald’s own dog, but she didn’t want to pause to figure it out.
“Nice day out,” Gerald said. His grin showed perfect porcelain chompers and Darcy nodded, giving a vague smile.
She missed Steve so much she felt sick with worry, and he’d probably know. She thought about General Ross kicking down her mother’s door, a SWAT team scouring every inch of the place. If anyone touched her mom, they were fucked. Darcy would make them cry. Never mind that it was the government versus her.
“Yeah. Hopefully traffic’s not too bad,” she murmured.
She was about to drive for four hours. If she came across as clueless it was better for her. She looked down at Jim Morrison.
“He’s so cute.”
“Thanks. Have a good day,” Gerald replied, and Darcy walked in the other direction, her hand up without turning her head to glance his way.
She was sure the second she was gone from the street he’d be inside her apartment. She walked down to the apartment garages and unlocked her car, pausing as she opened it.
She thought about flattening herself to the floor to check if there was something under the car. She opened her handbag and rummaged in it, pretending to look for something, passing her hand over her new firearm she got since returning to civilization. She decided to get that conceal carry license, and she found that touching it every so often brought her a bizarre comfort. She flicked a tampon onto the floor, the plastic casing scattering under the vehicle. She made a show of sighing audibly before crouching to grab it, seeing her car looked the same as yesterday when she last checked.
She put her key in the ignition and took another second to psyche herself up enough to turn it, not before picturing blowing up, her mother never knowing why her daughter had to die alone in a parking lot in Albuquerque.
Darcy drove without listening to the music that played, trying to think of everything that could possibly go wrong. Her mother could already be some type of hostage. She knew her mom would never sell her out, except maybe if they guaranteed her daughter would die if she didn’t. Her mom didn’t know anything about SHIELD or Steve Rogers. All she knew was that Jane wasn’t her boss anymore, and Darcy’s current job had nothing to do with Thor or superheroes.
When she pulled up at the house, she took note of each vehicle in the street. There was a florist’s truck that she knew was probably some type of surveillance setup. She knocked on the front door and waited half a minute before her mom answered, her eyebrows hiking.
“You lost weight. God, but your boobs, still, honey,” she murmured, pulling Darcy into a tight hug.
Her mom Rachel lived alone, a survivor of breast cancer, her house big enough for several other people. She always complained about the amount of cleaning she had to do but never moved. Darcy was sure it was something to do with her insecurities about change, whereas her daughter was able to drop everything and run with no notice.
“These flowers are driving me nuts,” she added, and Darcy tutted.
“Mom, throw them out.”
“Some of them look crazy expensive –” Rachel shut the front door and kept speaking, but she held up a hand to Darcy, which caused her heartbeat to pick up. “- so I don’t wanna throw them out just yet.”
Darcy went still, Rachel’s thumb gesturing to the kitchen beyond the hallway. Darcy followed her through, glancing around, seeing three different baskets on the table with several smaller bouquets dotted over the rest of the bench and flat surfaces.
She picked up a card and flipped it over, her eyes widening. Donald Blake.
“Mom,” she began, and Rachel shook her head, but Darcy went on. “That florist left these here? The one parked outside?”
“Nope,” her mom replied, popping the word.
They stared at one another and Darcy wondered what to do. She picked up each card from the arrangements, all of them labelled Donald Blake. With nothing else to go by, she couldn’t say if there were any instructions. In a court of law, she couldn’t say if there was a code she could follow. She wouldn’t be lying.
Rachel didn’t ask who Donald Blake was. Darcy wondered when she’d figured out that this wasn’t a one-time mistake.
“You staying for lunch?” Rachel asked eventually, and Darcy nodded.
They hand sandwiches and drank lemonade, watching The Wizard of Oz. Darcy’s hand slipped into her mothers, both of them tense the entire time. She didn’t know how to make it right without causing more distress. She just hoped her mother would forgive her one day, since there was no way she’d ever turn Steve in if she knew where he was.
She went home the following day, seeing Gerald when she got to her front door. Jim Morrison was nowhere to be seen.
“You’re back,” he said, and Darcy nodded, unsmiling.
“I don’t know where he is,” she said, and Gerald blinked at her.
“I don’t know where he is,” she said again, not adjusting the volume of her voice, not providing any context.
She stared at Gerald for several seconds before she ducked inside her apartment, hearing Gerald’s footsteps fade away. She went around the apartment and turned everything off, including her router. She swept for bugs, destroying the three she managed to find. She knew they were there, but since she’d acknowledged Gerald, she didn’t see any benefit in letting those stay. She went to her freezer and got her bottle of vodka from behind her ice cream and opened it, pouring herself a whole tumbler of the stuff, drinking it steadily when she put it to her lips.
She didn’t sleep well that night despite being drunk. She lay on her back in bed, thinking of Steve sitting opposite her in that mess hall.
Nat would know about Donald Blake from SHIELD. It was the name Thor used in his fake I.D. to try and get Mjolnir back years ago.
The flowers must have meant I’m thinking of you. She picked up each card and studied them, seeing the same logo and embossed lettering.
She picked up her phone first thing that Monday morning, putting on her best imitation of a stuffed nose.
“I’m so sorry,” she whined into the receiver. “I can’t come in today. If anyone needs me, I’ll keep my phone on me.”
When Darcy hung up, she immediately logged onto a VPN, beginning to type Donald Blake into a search. A lot showed up, nothing very distinct. Her bit her lip, wondering if it was up to her to send something out.
She made a blog with his name in the title, using a photo from a free image hosting site. She tried to think of something distinct that only Steve, Nat or Sam would know. She stared at the near-empty blog, chewing her lip. She thought of maybe eating some breakfast, but her hunger wasn’t really there –
“Yes,” she whispered, and she began to type into the search engine, finding pictures of home fries. It’s what she ate when she sat with Steve in the mess hall, despite Sam warning her not to.
She put up two different recipes, writing little comments beneath the photographs:
Needs hot sauce
I’ve had better
She logged off, hoping something would pop up in Nat’s searches.
She made herself a pot of coffee and listened out for Gerald for the better part of an hour before she received a comment on the bottom of Donald’s blog entry.
Her heart leapt and she clicked the blog name, seeing a sparse account with no profile picture. She sent the first message, only needing to wait a couple minutes before she got a reply.
Big dope’s been missing you.
She couldn’t help it – through all the stress and sleepless nights, she’d been holding out for something like this and she smiled, feeling her heart soar. Steve was undoubtedly the big dope, she wondered if it was him messaging her now or Nat.
Me too. I’m going crazy.
Her email she used for the blog got a spam e-mail for meeting singles and she clicked on it, coming across a nearly blank website, all black, except for a tiny spot in the corner that she clicked on. It was like chasing the white rabbit.
She got to a chatroom and saw she and one other person was online, GenEngraversTrot. Oh, that sweet nerd Steve was… it was an anagram of his full name. She grinned, starting to type as Guest:
People are watching my apartment. Are you safe?
I’m so sorry.
When he didn’t add anything else, Darcy frowned, typing her reply.
I want to see you.
She waited a couple minutes, sitting back, wondering if this was all just an elaborate way for him to apologize and cut her off. She stared at the username until her eyes watered.
She thought she might cry in relief. She typed back:
He was gone and she sucked in a breath, crossing out of the page.
She bought a bus ticket to Dallas, telling her work that she needed time off. She never said out loud where she was going, and bought the ticket at the bus depot, waiting there for half an hour before she boarded. She left her phone at home, unsure if she was coming back any time soon. In a way it was freeing, walking away from everything. If she got this right, she wouldn’t have to worry. She sent her mom a ticket for a Canadian cruise, their emails between them superficial. One day she might tell her mother everything.
She arrived in Dallas and went to the Sunshine Rio Grande Motel, her taxi dropping her off as the sun had begun to set. She walked into the reception with her backpack slung on one shoulder, feeling the nervous sweat break out all over her again. It was easy enough to pretend that she was a little overheated, making a show of wiping her brow as she approached the front desk.
“My name is Susan Chambers, I had a reservation –”
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Chambers, your husband checked in earlier.”
The concierge grinned at her, holding up a set of keys. She took them trying to keep her composure.
“My husband, was he in good spirits?” she asked, and the concierge laughed.
“Oh, yes. Very keen to start your honeymoon.”
She glanced down at the keys in her hand. She wondered why she was getting them so easily.
“He gave us your I.D. earlier.”
A fake, but with a very real photograph of Darcy. That made sense. Darcy nodded, giving another smile.
“I’m exhausted, so I’ll…”
She walked out, hoping she wouldn’t give herself away as she weaved between two staff. She could hear trucks on the highway as she walked around the block to the stairs and walked two at a time, finding the right room down another corridor.
She held her breath as she stopped at the door. After all of this, it could still be Tony Stark on the other side.
She slotted the key in, turning it in the lock. She opened the door, ducking inside the dark room, readying herself.
She turned, seeing Steve sitting on the bed several feet away from the front door and she broke into a run, his arms wrapping around her and picking her up when she reached him.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “You’re here.”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “God. Look at you.”
He put her down, her hands on either side of his face, seeing his eyes shining at her in the dark. She could feel his beard under her hands, could smell the scent of his skin.
She kept tracing his face as if to check he was real, his eyes scanning her to do the same, and she heard him swallow a couple times before he finally kissed her.
She made a sound against his lips, the weeks of waiting falling away, and they were back to where they were before all this, mouths pressed together as his arms wrapped around her tighter. The kiss deepened, his tongue pressing between her lips and Darcy gasped, grabbing him by his hair and pushing her hips into his.
He spun them so she was beneath him on the bed, his hand going to turn on the lamp to flood the room with yellow light, and she felt the tears spring in her eyes, seeing all of him so clearly, staring down at her.
“God,” he breathed again, “You’re so beautiful. Jesus, I missed you.”
She gave a little wet laugh, kissing him again without closing her eyes. Her hands fell to his neck, then down his front to his pants.
The sex was fast and desperate, practically tearing each other out of their clothes, mouths missing each other as they rutted. When the world righted itself afterwards, he told her:
“I’ve got until tomorrow and then Nat will come get us.”
Darcy nodded, her heart aching already at the idea that they’d have to separate again so soon. He began to kiss down her face and neck, sucking a nipple into his mouth, Darcy’s eyes fluttering closed as he laved her tits and cunt with his tongue, making her come with his head squashed between her thighs.
They dozed off, only for Darcy to wake several minutes later, afraid that it had all been a dream. She went to the bathroom, flipping on the light when she slipped inside. She stared at her naked upper half in the mirror, seeing the marks on her chest and neck from where Steve sucked at her skin. She glanced down, seeing beard burn on her thighs.
She sniffled, leaning against the sink for a couple minutes to ground herself. It felt like every emotion she’d felt had finally caught up with her. She cried quietly, covering her mouth. She stopped after a few minutes, wiping her face with the backs of her hands, taking a few deep breaths.
She went back to bed, picking up Steve’s arm and tucking herself under it, burying her face in his chest.
She woke later, feeling Steve had rolled over, pressing their chests together, kissing her neck and face as she blinked blearily.
“Hmm?” she murmured, as he hitched her thigh over his hip.
She ate peanut M&Ms from the minibar while Steve slept beside her. When she was finished, she watched him, the blankets pushed away, his naked body stretched out beside her.
He had hair everywhere, not just his face and chest. Her hand slid down his front to his stomach, studying the trail of hair from his navel to his crotch, seeing his spent cock resting against his thigh. He sighed, stirring.
Darcy scooted closer, her fingers brushing his bare hip, nails scraping through the soft curls of his pubic hair. She glanced at his face, his long eyelashes against his cheek. She moved up onto her knees, leaning down to kiss his stomach.
She heard him take a deep breath, her movements still slow as she began to stroke him, feeling the warm weight of his cock in her hand begin to grow hotter.
She met his eye, seeing his sleepy gaze on her, naked and hunched over with his big dick near her mouth.
“Want you,” she whispered. Her tongue darted out to lick him lazily, circling the crown of him.
He moaned, soft and quiet. She sucked him into her mouth and his breath hitched, his jaw slackening.
She felt the arousal pool between her legs, and she wanted him as bad as yesterday, as bad as last week. Forget that they’d fucked several times in between the moment the hotel door shut behind her and now. She didn’t just want him to go down on her again, either. She wanted it to last, to have there be evidence of him left behind.
She wanted him to fuck her hard until he came, bruising her skin with his hands and mouth.
She felt his fingers dig into her shoulders and she let him go, his cock standing to attention, wet and pink. He pulled her up to kiss her, before pushing her onto her back. Her ankle rested on his shoulder as he pushed inside, her back arching off the bed.
She was going to be a wreck when this was all over, if she didn’t somehow end up in a body bag because of Gerald or someone else.
How was she supposed to not think of this always, Steve with his big dick, making her lightheaded and slurring the words that ebbed from her mouth? How was she ever meant to recover from this slow, fulfilling sex?
He worked her over in steady, lingering thrusts, Darcy’s eyes slowly closing over time, her exhaustion beginning to set in once more.
It lasted longer, Darcy flattened to the mattress by the time it was over, the air smelling of the fresh scents of sex. Steve rolled off of her, their legs tangled as she failed to fight off sleep.
She felt like the only way to breathe was to scream.
“Please,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers as he rutted into her.
She ached all over, shaking her head. She couldn’t come again. She’d pass out if she did. Her heart would give out. She’d need to be scraped up from the bed and shipping back to her mother’s house in a glass jar.
He pressed her clit precisely where she needed it, knowing her body so well now that he could pull it out of her.
“Fuck,” she wailed, and she came, gripping him as tight as possible, the edges of her vision blurring.
He followed her soon after, cradling her as his hips gave out.
“I’ll miss you,” she whispered, their fingers thread together as they sat beside one another.
It was nearly 24 hours to the exact minute since she got there, and she heard the knock on the door, her stomach dropping.
Tears sprang in her eyes and Steve kissed her hard, making a sound against her when she gave it back to him, the desperation, the longing.
He answered the door, Nat standing there with her glowing silver hair, her mouth set in a line.
“Time to go.”
Darcy didn’t care about embarrassing herself. She kissed him again, her hand over the place where his star used to be. She tried her best to memorize the taste of him before, and she didn’t know if it would ever be enough. She sensed Nat give them some privacy, only for a few moments before she said it again, Steve’s answer curt before he apologized:
“We know. Sorry…”
“It’s okay,” the spy murmured, and Darcy wondered if she was the same with Bucky. “Five minutes. I’ll meet you out front. Darcy’s cab will be waiting.”
They nodded and she left them.
“Have to go,” she whispered.
Steve drew in a ragged breath and kissed her again, pulling back to bite his lip, a sound like a sob bubbling up.
“I’ll be okay,” she lied. She cleared her throat, attempting to laugh. “Just don’t go finding someone else to have marathon sex with…”
He didn’t humor her. “You should.”
“No,” she whispered. “Never.”
He squeezed her hand hard, his eyes glassy.
She closed her eyes went he went to leave, and didn’t open them for quite some time, the idea of being alone almost too unbearable to face.
Chapter 30: Steve/Darcy/Natasha - Breast Worship
I was sent a prompt from the lovely everythinghappens-love - Steve/Darcy/Natasha+ "Shit! I'm sorry I didn't mean to-I umm should have knocked. I'll just go.". I haven't written Steve/Nat before so I hope this turns out okay. Thank you for sending me this prompt!
I rewatched Winter Soldier today for the first time in about nine or so months and it really fucked me up, hence some of the angst in this.
I can't believe I've only got one more day of this. Shortest/longest month of my writing life. ❤
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
The whole friends-who-also-sleep-together thing only started after Steve was nearly killed in D.C. The façade of the Black Widow was stripped away and they both were more than a little lost. It made sense, especially after the whole “I’m not ready for that” admission on the rooftop. Sure, he was 95, but he wasn’t a monk.
Nat hadn’t mentioned the brunette with the glasses and hourglass figure. Steve thought she would have. They didn’t mean to come across her anyway, or more–
"Shit! I'm sorry I didn't mean to-I umm should have knocked. I'll just go."
They weren’t above making out in conference rooms. The girl walked in, her eyebrows almost disappearing into her hairline as Nat and Steve broke apart. She exited, turning bright red as she backed out.
“Who was that?” he asked Nat, whose eyebrows had also hiked.
“Really?” she retorted, and Steve gave her a frown. “I spend a better part of two years getting you a date and you find a girl by yourself?”
“Another girl by myself,” he amended, and she narrowed her eyes.
He didn’t know where the girl came from but Nat was quick to fill him in. Darcy Lewis was recruited post-HYDRA, and worked with Dr. Jane Foster for years during and after Thor’s first visit to Earth. The planets aligned, but he didn’t know whether she’d appreciate that space metaphor.
He watched her walk across the compound field in her little boots and soft sweaters, her wavy hair looking so soft even from a distance. Nat caught him several times but he didn’t know how to navigate that, the idea of asking her out for real.
“Don’t overthink it,” Nat said one day, much to his irritation.
It’s all he ever seemed to do those days. Thinking and fighting and trying to find Bucky. When he wasn’t staying up with his insomnia, he was scouring intel for any sign of his childhood friend. He was still doing the missions as well. Nat managed to break up some of that, but he couldn’t get Darcy out of his head, and he didn’t know her at all.
“You do know her,” Nat said, reading his mind. “And she knows you.”
They knew of each other. Thor was their friend. That wasn’t the same thing. Nat threw him a look that meant she knew what he was thinking.
“Let it happen.”
Steve only glanced away from her, not acknowledging her increasingly sage advice. He didn’t need Nat analysing him any more than she already did.
He came across Darcy when he couldn’t sleep. He went for a walk around the compound and he found her with her nose in her phone, sitting under a tree.
“Hey,” he said, and she glanced up, her eyes widening a fraction. She was probably remembering the last time she saw him up close, Nat’s arms around him, his face flushed with arousal.
“Hi. Steve, right?”
“Yeah,” he replied.
He wandered over, standing beside her with his hands in his pockets. She moved up to stand, putting her phone away.
“Why are you -?”
“Jane’s pulling an all-nighter. Or, she was. She sort of passed out about ten minutes ago.”
“Why aren’t you sleeping, then?”
“I… can’t,” she replied.
They both smiled at one another and he sensed the companionship Nat hinted at. The girl seemed to put him at ease.
“Don’t stay out here too long,” he said, and she smiled at him wider.
He couldn’t seem to help himself. She leaned against the tree, biting her lip. She was really beautiful. He got the feeling that she wasn’t the one to be center of attention, but she didn’t seem to be pushing it away. She appreciated him looking back at her with the same look on his face, a little cheeky.
“You can’t sleep either?” she said, when he was turning away from her.
He looked down at her.
“I met Natasha,” she said, and he blinked.
Something passed over her face and he blinked again, feeling something settle in his stomach. A weight that felt close to disappointment. She wasn’t without shame, her head ducking for a second. He wondered how many times they’d slept together. It wasn’t as if he was in charge of that part of Nat’s life. It wasn’t his business, and they never talked about being exclusive. Still, he felt a frown form as he nodded in acknowledgement.
He didn’t want to be one of those jealous guys. He knew a lot of them growing up. They hit their wives, started fights in bars when their girl got attention. They were scum, thinking they were entitled to a woman’s whole life when they weren’t – and Nat didn’t owe him shit. Neither did Darcy.
“It’s fine,” he added, hoping that if he said the words out loud they’d stick.
Darcy nodded, falling silent. He left her there, walking back to his apartment. He had no idea how long she stayed out there.
It did bother him, those two sleeping together. It turned him on, it got him angry. He never said a word about it, even though it took just a passing of Nat’s eyes over his face to read it all, to see the secret feelings.
“She likes you,” she said one night when she’d landed beside him, unbuckling the parachute from her suit. “She wants to get to know you.”
“How does she figure she’ll do that with all the time she’s spending with you?” he retorted, feeling a little less patient with Nat.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to be there,” the redhead retorted. “Or are you pretending like you’re all alone again?”
He hated that, when she hit nerves to make a point. He was an outsider, the same as her. He doubted Darcy was the same. As beautiful and extraordinary she seemed in the brief encounter they had, she seemed far more normal than him. She was practically a civilian.
He was wrong. It was always a bad thing to be wrong about people sometimes, and Darcy proved it all too well when there was an explosion in the labs. An intern sold them out for their mom’s safety, and Darcy was thrown against a wall, glass flying everywhere.
Again, he couldn’t help himself, finding her at the med bay with Nat beside her, holding her hand. The two women were having a tender moment that he interrupted. Darcy’s face was covered in scratches and her wrist was bandaged.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, instead of a greeting.
There was a brief silence and Nat exchanged a look with Darcy.
“We should talk,” the brunette said, her voice rough. “And don’t hate me for using a near-death experience as an excuse to trap you in conversation. I think the universe owes me.”
He felt his lips curl in a smile, moving closer to sit down on her other side, feeling two pairs of eyes on him. He glanced at her other hand, wondering if he should take it.
“I like you,” she murmured, and he looked up at her face, seeing her sincere eyes, so big and blue behind her glasses.
“I like you, too,” he replied, and she smiled at him, a small one that made her look shy.
“Finally,” Nat muttered, but she was smiling, too.
“You know what, Romanoff…?”
Going from dateless to having two girlfriends was bizarre when he thought about it for too long, but Steve was getting better at not questioning everything all the time, especially when it came to the people closest to him.
They didn’t talk about it much outside of their own little trio, partly because it was harder to explain, and Nat was still not great at being honest all the time. Darcy said something about wanting to brag about how she won the Bisexual Lottery, which made him laugh and want to make her come.
There wasn’t much Darcy did that didn’t warrant that urge. She was a balm for the harshness of life, and he suspected she knew that, with how she touched him and made him feel treasured. She even managed to get Nat to relax every so often, which was something he’d never managed to do.
He’d catch Nat with a goofy look on her face and he knew Darcy was the source of it. He sometimes got jealous – he was human – but he didn’t stop to push either of them away.
“Hmm?” Steve replied, starting to unwrap Darcy’s dress as she stood in front of him while he sat on the bed.
“Is he an ass man or a tits man?” she asked, and his brows lifted.
“You wanna ask him?” he retorted, and she smiled down at him crookedly, mischievously.
“I’m tempted,” she said, and he leaned forward to nip at her breast that was exposed, her dress pooling at her feet. “I’m kidding.”
“I’m not sure what Sam is,” he murmured, nuzzling at her skin. “I don’t know what I am, either. Why are we talking about Sam, anyway?”
“Thought I’d get him to ask out Angie from Billing.”
Steve broke into a smile, shaking his head. He pushed down her bra cup enough to pull her nipple out, the areola already pebbling in the cool air. He swirled his tongue around her, tugging at her nipple as Darcy bit her lip, hissing.
“You and Nat tryin’ to play matchmaker?”
“Maybe,” she replied. “Oh, my God…”
Their date was pretty uneventful. He liked her dress, how it hugged her waist and flared out at the bottom. They ate burgers at the restaurant and walked around the park, the warm air of the summer still lingering into fall. It gave Darcy a chance to grumble about global warming while they held hands, stopping to kiss every so often.
Nat wasn’t the biggest fan of dates, off training while they were out. Steve wondered when she was going to show up, and as if on cue, he heard the key in the front door down the hallway from the bedroom.
Darcy’s hearing was not as sharp, so she lit up when he pulled off of her, murmuring:
She pulled him into a kiss, her tongue pushing into his mouth. A minute or so later, he sensed Nat coming in, hearing her soft footfalls.
She pulled Darcy into a long kiss, Steve’s face between them, his hand reaching up to grab Nat’s ass. The redhead pulled back, her eyes on him as she kissed Darcy’s face and neck, her hands cupping the brunette’s full tits.
“Hmm,” Darcy murmured, a happy sigh escaping. “I think Nat’s a tits girl.”
“Yeah,” Nat said, smiling. “At least, these tits…”
He watched them kiss, his chest feeling tighter, his cock starting to leak in his boxer briefs as he shifted on the bed, trying to pull them onto the mattress with him.
“C’mere,” he whispered.
They lay together with Darcy in the middle, both he and Nat kissing and licking her front, and more than once the same old joke was made:
“Well, at least I got two of ‘em. One for each of you.”
Darcy had the ability to bring out the best and worst in him - he liked to tease her to the brink of begging to let her come, his mouth sealed over her twitching, wet cunt while Nat held her down. He and Nat were partners in crime, the best of friends.
In the afterglow Darcy would stroke their hair, even while sweaty and slurring her words.
"Thinking too much," she murmured to Steve, who was still awake as Nat slept on her other side.
He shook his head, kissing her face.
"Thinking about you."
She smiled at him, and Nat stirred, her hand gliding over Darcy's bare hip.
Chapter 31: Steve/Bucky/Darcy - Toys & Double Penetration
Oh, so you're telling me it's over? Okay. I guess I can go lie down for eternal slumber now. I'm clearly lying. Thanks for being part of this. Thanks for every kudos and comment and little hit. Is my thirst quenched after 31 days of writing explicit content featuring Darcy Lewis? Not even slightly! I have learned NOTHING and that's on ME.
Today's finale is a combination of whatever the fuck I want, so.... there. Have it. ❤
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
“How’d you know we’d come back?”
Bucky’s thumb was grazing over her lip as he asked this, Steve’s hands tugging down her leggings. She was mildly distracted by the feeling of the air on her bare skin, sitting naked on her bed with her thighs wide apart.
“My mind is so powerful,” she replied, a slow grin forming on her face. “Call it my slutty sixth sense.”
She was rewarded with two different smiles. Steve’s was muted, his face obscured when he turned away to tug off his shirt. Bucky’s smile was broad and impish, the kind that mad Darcy aware of how long the night would be. They’d come back from a mission, both of them squeaky clean from showers. Darcy was staying up late out of habit, and honestly got it into her head when she was hopping in the shower that they could be on their way home.
For all her irony and wry smirks, she loved them both a lot. She still wasn’t the best at expressing how much they made her worry, but they did. Having them safe and in her apartment was enough for her now. Maybe tomorrow she’d tell them both how much she’d missed them, if the way she showed them physically tonight didn’t suffice.
Bucky kissed her first because he was closest. His lips brushed hers, asking for permission and she smiled, feeling his hand glide down from her face to her neck, wrapping his fingers around her throat and pressing just enough to make the thrill run through her. She was aroused so easily by them both, and she sometimes caught them being a little smug about this. Steve stripped as Bucky kissed Darcy slowly, purposefully, pushing her against the headboard, her wrists tugging against the restraints of the two silk ties they’d attached to her.
Steve moved up the bed, lifting Darcy to move behind her and wrap his arms around her middle, her bare butt resting in his lap, rubbing against his cock that was half-hard already. Bucky’s eyes went from Steve to Darcy, kissing her again before moving toward the bedside table he’d already delved into earlier.
Without Bucky’s mouth on her, it was Steve’s opportunity to twist her neck toward him to kiss her. It was clumsy but made her whimper, his other hand reaching to cup her mound and press a finger between the damp lips of her cunt, rubbing her clit.
Bucky turned back, watching Steve play with her as he murmured in her ear:
“You want as both at the same time?”
She nodded, the anticipation spurring her on, Steve’s cock pressed against her ass as Bucky held up the vibrator, his eyebrows hiking.
“Please,” she added, and Bucky grinned.
She nodded, another smile forming. She liked being shameless. She liked trusting them both with this part of her – all parts of her. She shifted, a brief hiss escaping Steve as he grabbed her hip to grind against her a little. She felt his lips press to her shoulder as Bucky turned the vibrator on, crawling up the bed to reach Darcy.
He pulled her into a kiss, the buzzing of the toy more prominent in sound amongst the hushed anticipation of her bedroom. Darcy’s breath hitched as she felt the toy glide down her stomach, her muscles jumping at the sensation. She moaned against Bucky’s mouth when he reached her mound, Steve’s hand leaving her, the toy resting against an enticing spot just above the hood of her clit.
“You want it?” Bucky murmured, watching her face.
She nodded emphatically, earning her another smile. He began to rub her lower and her mouth fell open, her whole body tensing. She tried to maintain eye contact with him, seeing that glaze of lust begin to form in his eyes.
She could feel she was close already, but she usually did it in stages. Bucky knew that, they both did, but the point of using the toy on her was that he was dictating exactly how much she was feeling. It was a lot, the buzzing toy relentless against her swollen clit with no relief. She began to whine as he turned it up, making her start to pant and try to writhe.
Steve held her in place, his mouth at her ear:
“Tell him how good it feels.”
“It feels so fucking good, Bucky,” she blurted, and both men chuckled.
She dissolved into a desperate moan as the toy worked her clit as Bucky rubbed it up and down. He moved it down further to her entrance and Darcy panted, gnawing at her lip. She did what she could to try to distract herself, but she couldn’t.
“Come, Darcy,” Bucky said, and her eyes flew shut, the world melting away as she gave into it, the overwhelming sensations.
She was pretty sure she made a little mess while she did it, her thighs wet as she whimpered. The warm euphoria that spread to her fingertips and toes made her limbs turn to liquid, but they were nowhere near done. She felt Steve lift her hips, then his thumb pressing down against her asshole as Bucky let the toy drop again lower off her clit.
“This type of lovin’ gettin’ you off faster?” Steve whispered in her ear, and Darcy bit her lip again, her back trying to bow as he smeared her hole with her arousal. “Tell me, is it true, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” she hissed, and she felt his teeth nip at her skin as he pushed a little more, her muscles resisting on instinct.
He kept his thumb pressed against her as Bucky went back in, rubbing her up and down. She came again, yelling. Bucky kissed her hard, teeth and tongue, as Steve pushed a finger inside her.
“Steve,” she hissed, and he began to work another finger into her, the stretch enough to burn.
She heard him uncap the bottle of lube and then the cool sensation of the slick inside her and she closed her eyes, picturing the mess he’d leave inside her.
“You ready for him?” Bucky murmured, grabbing her chin. “Why don’t you come first and then he can fill you up?”
He made the question sound almost innocent, like suggesting someone take Tylenol and then call him in the morning. He pressed the vibrator to her clit again and Darcy went rigid, squeezing her eyes shut as she succumbed to it, the feeling of being outside of herself.
She was hefted up, Steve’s hand on her hip, the other on his cock as he aimed upwards. Darcy turned her head to look down, straining her arms a little before she remembered she was still tied up. She let out a near-hysterical giggle.
So that was how she ended up losing all sense of time as well – with Steve’s dick in her ass and her vibrator pressed to her cunt. She’d moan and wail and laugh breathlessly. At one point she tried grabbing for Bucky’s cock that was leaking on his thighs and he laughed, pulling her into a tender kiss, pressing down on her clit with the vibrator in retaliation. He pulled back, looking down.
“I think you could fit this whole thing in there,” he murmured, pushing a little more, and Darcy whined. He scanned her face, checking. “Yeah, right in there…”
Darcy could feel her eyes fighting to not roll back and she let it happen. She was pretty sure the last time she fitted a wand that big inside her she was drunk, and she felt that way, now.
“When I get it in there, I’m turning this fucker on high,” Bucky warned, and Darcy whimpered.
“NnnnohmyGod,” she babbled, and she gasped. “Fuck, I can’t –”
“You took it from me, look!” Bucky said, and she glanced down, seeing the wand had sunk into her, stretching her wide and bright pink. He let go of the toy and she seemed to pull it into her body. “You snatched it back.”
“Fuck,” Steve murmured into her hair and Darcy panted, her toes curling enough to ache.
“Steve, I want, I want,” she began to pant, and he kissed the side of her face, lifting her off a little and pushing her back down. “Fucking… God.”
“He’s not gonna last much longer,” Bucky murmured in warning and she nodded, a little relieved.
“I want you to,” she whispered. “Please come in me.”
Bucky turned the toy on high just like he threatened when Steve began to thrust into her faster, the sound obscene and wet. She must have asked for her arms back, because Bucky was reaching for the ties to undo them and her hands were free again, tugging Bucky by the hair to kiss her as Steve emptied inside her.
She wriggled in Steve’s lap and he caught her, a low chuckle in her ear as he sounded wrecked.
She grabbed him to kiss him, rough and unyielding, and she felt him twitch inside her, growing hotter. He was oversensitive and shivery like her, but he stayed inside, as Bucky began to pull the toy back out of her steadily.
He gave her a last rub with it on her clit when it was out before switching it off, all three of them panting as they kissed and kissed, limbs tangling.
She was between them again, Bucky on his back, splitting her cunt open with his sticky cock, Steve rocking into her as Bucky pushed up.
She lay between them after they all showered, and she could still smell her bedroom reeked of sex. By the morning she would be used to it, the memories of their scents all she had. She tried in vain to fight off sleep. She kept trying to keep track of whose hand was on whom.
She murmured something about wanting to somehow continue this in her dreams, if her subconscious would allow.
“Probably can,” Steve murmured, his lips brushing her neck.
“Your mind is powerful,” Bucky added, kissing her cheek.