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Darcy bit softly into her lower lip, watching closely as Bucky plucked another lemon from the crate on the table and held it above the top of the glass beverage dispenser. He could feel her eyes taking him in hungrily as he squeezed it in his bionic fist, juices running over his metal fingers and splashing against the glass.
"How much longer do I have to keep doin' this?" he asked, tossing the crushed fruit on to the discard pile and retrieving a fresh lemon from the crate.
"I'm not sure. I've never actually made lemonade before," she conceded. "Try filling it a fifth of the way and we'll add some water and sugar and see how it tastes."
"Maybe you oughta look up a recipe," he replied, squeezing the juice out of another lemon effortlessly. "I hate to think that I'm doing this for nothing."
She couldn't prevent the escape of a breathy sigh as she watched him compress it in his fist. It was just so goddamned hot. "You still with me, doll?" he smirked, pitching the juiced fruit and grabbing another.
"Huh?!" she sputtered.
"A recipe," he chuckled.
"What recipe?" she asked in bewilderment.
"I was saying that you oughta look up a recipe for lemonade," he replied as another stream of juice cascaded into the dispenser.
"How hard can it be?" Darcy mused. "Let's just mix it up until I like how it tastes. If people don't like it, tough shit. We're giving it away for free."
"I guess you're right," he said, glancing at her mischievously from the corner of his eye. "Besides, half the fun's makin' it, right?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied, watching as he rolled another lemon in his fist and the plates in his metal arm buzzed and shifted. The hot pulsing between her legs grew slicker and she squirmed in her seat uncomfortably.
"Would it help if I took my shirt off?" he asked with a flick of his brow.
"Well, it couldn't hurt," she said with a grin.
"Why don't you come here and give me a hand?" he invited, wetting his lips seductively.
She stood up and walked towards him, taking him in slowly. Even after months together, she sometimes still found it hard to believe that he was really all hers. Her arms snaked around his waist, her hands slipping under the front of his shirt as her fingers traced over the ridges of his perfectly sculpted muscles greedily. She pressed her face against his back, breathing him in deeply and he let out a low rumble that she felt all the way down in the soles of her feet.
"You said something about needing a hand," she offered. "You want help squeezing those lemons?"
"Take a look and see what you think," he replied, placing his right hand over her own and sliding it down past his waist. "If we're all through with the lemons, I might have something else for you to squeeze." He pressed himself into her palm with a soft groan that made her go cross-eyed.
"I had no idea that citrus fruit got you so hot," she teased, peering around him and finding the dispenser filled with precisely the right amount of juice.
"It's not the lemons," he ground out. "I saw the way you were watching me. Can't help gettin' worked up when you look at me like that."
Darcy withdrew her arms and picked the glass canister up off the table, moving carefully towards the kitchen counter. Bucky strode over to the sink, washing his hands and watched as she started rooting through the cabinets. She returned to the dispenser with a bag of sugar and a measuring cup. He came up from behind, wrapping her in his arms and held up a wooden spoon as he pressed a kiss against the back of her neck.
"Mmm... Thanks, Sarge," she sighed, slipping the spoon out of his hand and leaning back against him comfortably as his lips covered her skin in soft kisses. "We should cook together more often."
"We tried that but for some reason we never managed to finish anything," he purred, slipping his hands up under the hem of her tank top and pawing at her roughly. "For the life of me, I can't remember why..."
Darcy set the dispenser in the sink and filled it up halfway with water, stirring in a cup of sugar and trying her best to focus as Bucky continued to maul her. She moved it back to the counter and poured some into a glass, wincing as she took a tentative sip.
"Guess you should've looked up a recipe, sweetheart," he crowed.
"Pfft. No," she retorted. "I'm not finished yet. Patience, old man."
She set the lemonade back under the faucet and added more water and carefully stirred in another cup and a half of sugar.
"Let me get that for you," he said quietly, withdrawing his hands from her shirt and lifting the dispenser out of the sink with his arms at either side of her waist. She melted into him as he peered over her shoulder and gently set it on the counter.
"Alright," she sighed. "The moment of truth."
"Hold on," he said, stepping away to grab two more lemons and a knife. She watched as he quickly sliced them into the mixture and gave it another stir. He poured some into her glass and took a sip.
It was perfect - exactly the right balance of sweetness and tartness. Pure liquid nostalgia, bringing back fond memories of another time. He did his best to hide his excitement and somehow managed to maintain an expression that was hard to read.
"So?" Darcy asked, reaching for his glass impatiently. "What's the verdict?" He held it up just out of her reach and the corners of his mouth started to twitch. "Come on! Quit jerking me around!"
"I dunno," he balked, handing her the empty glass. "Maybe Steve and I should've just left the lemons where we found them."
"In the street?" she asked, pouring some of the lemonade into her glass. "I think it's adorable that you've still got that Depression Mentality. Life gave you an over-turned semi full of lemons and you couldn't stand to let them go to waste." She took a sip from her glass and grinned. "What are you, the Russian judge? It's perfect. Guess I should've used a recipe though, right?" He snatched the glass out of her hand and emptied it.
"It really is perfect," he admitted reluctantly. "Are you sure you still want to give it away?"
"Absolutely," she replied as he set her empty glass on the counter. "The lemons were free. It was fun to make. I've got some Solo cups left over from Steve's birthday. Why not pay it forward and make the world a brighter place?" His eyes followed as she removed four ice cube trays from the freezer, emptied them into the dispenser and screwed the lid in place. As much as he admired her generosity, something about the whole thing left a bad taste in his mouth.
Bucky quickly set up a card table and two folding chairs outside the front of the tower while Darcy scrawled "FREE LEMONADE" on a piece of cardboard and taped it to the front edge. She arranged the cups and the dispenser and took a seat next to Bucky behind the table.
A steady stream of harried New Yorkers walked by, glancing towards the lemonade stand suspiciously. Not a single one stopped for a sample. Bucky looked at Darcy from the corner of his eye and swallowed hard, she looked so disappointed that it made his stomach lurch.
"Maybe this was a bad idea," she said uncertainly. "Maybe we should call it a day and go back inside."
"This is a great idea," he replied, slipping his hand into hers reassuringly. "People are idiots. Just give them a few minutes to figure things out." Darcy's breath caught in her chest as the breeze tousled his hair just slightly and she lost herself in his cool blue gaze.
"Is it organic?" a voice sharply cut in.
"Sorry?" Darcy asked in a daze.
"Are the lemons that you used or-gan-ic?" a sour-looking man demanded in as patronizing a tone as possible.
"I'm not sure," Darcy replied, glancing towards Bucky uncertainly.
"Well, can you find out? I only consume organic produce," the man pressed.
"It's free and it's delicious," Bucky growled. "Now take some and thank the lady or get lost."
The man's hands started shaking so badly that he struggled to fill a cup and take a sip as Bucky continued to glare at him.
"Wow! That really is good," the man said looking at Darcy in genuine surprise. "Thank you!"
"No problem-o!" she replied brightly, watching as the man turned and walked away. The satisfied smile on her face made Bucky giddy and he let out a long unsteady breath as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"Oh, lemonade!" a heavily-perfumed woman in a colourful kaftan exclaimed. Her bracelets jangled noisily as she eagerly grabbed a cup and filled it to the brim. Darcy's face lit up as the woman took a long sip and moaned obscenely.
"I haven't had lemonade like that in ages," the woman mused. "Not since I spent summers with my Nana, rest her soul. Thank you, sweetheart. You are a treasure."
Darcy smiled widely, unable to muster a response as the woman walked away.
"See? I told you this was a great idea," Bucky drawled. "Did you see how happy she was? All because of you, doll."
"Not just me" she replied with a grin. "Team Barnes & Lewis."
"That's a mouthful. How about Team Wintern?" he asked with a flick of a brow. "You know, since I'm The Winter Soldier and you're Doc Foster's intern-"
"Lab Coordinator," Darcy corrected. "My title is Lab Coordinator."
"Well, that doesn't work at all," he sighed.
"You got a permit for this?" a man in a safety vest, holding a clipboard inquired.
"We're not selling anything," Darcy replied. "It's free."
"So, you don't have a permit then..." the man said dryly, making a notation on his clipboard.
"Do we need one?" Bucky asked, pinning the man under his icy gaze.
"I-" the man sputtered.
"Who are you with?" Bucky pressed. "The police? The municipality?"
"Neighbourhood Watch," the man responded. "We're a community policing-"
"Are you fucking kidding?" Bucky interrupted. "Take some lemonade and thank the lady or get lost."
"If we don't police ourselves, how else will we stay safe?!" the man challenged.
"Safe from what? From lemonade?" Bucky sneered. "Take some and thank the lady or get lost but either way make it quick because you're skating on thin ice here, pal."
The man set his clipboard down, poured some lemonade into a cup and sniffed it suspiciously. He took a small sip and let out an appreciative hum, filling the cup the rest of the way. Bucky watched incredulously as he retrieved his clipboard and turned and walked away without another word.
"You're welcome, you goddamned ingrate!" Bucky called after him. "Boy, some people have more nerve than a toothache."
"It's alright," Darcy said. "I think he liked it."
"Yeah but at the least he could've thanked you for it," Bucky replied.
A group of teenagers approached and each poured themselves a cup, thanking Darcy politely. A police officer on a bicycle stopped and did the same, complimenting Darcy on her thoughtfulness. An elderly woman exploring the city with her granddaughter chatted with Darcy for at least ten minutes unwilling to accept that she hadn't used a recipe.
"Is there sugar in this?" a woman on a cellphone interrupted.
"Of course there is, dear. It's lemonade," the older woman helpfully replied.
"Well, why isn't there a warning posted?" the woman with the mobile demanded. "If I was diabetic, it could kill me."
"Oh, my!" the elderly woman exclaimed. "You're quite serious, aren't you? You do realize that this fine young woman is offering you something delicious for free."
"Yes, but-" the woman with the phone replied as the older woman's gaze darkened.
"I suggest that you take some and thank her or get lost," she growled menacingly.
Darcy glanced at Bucky from the corner of her eye just in time to see his lips turn up into a wicked grin. The woman on the phone skittered away with her tail between her legs and Darcy thanked her new friend as she took her granddaughter by the hand and they headed off on the next leg of their adventure together.
"That old broad was something else," Bucky quipped. "They just don't make 'em like they used to."
"Oh, really?" Darcy asked, snatching her hand away and folding her arms across her chest stiffly.
"C'mon, sweetheart. I wasn't talking about you. You're perfect," Bucky said, placing his hand on her thigh. Darcy looked at him knowing full well that staying angry at someone so pretty was essentially an exercise in futility. "Lemonade's almost gone. Why don't we call it a day, head back upstairs and see if I can't sweeten that sour puss." Darcy rolled her eyes unconvincingly. He really was the worst. As she looked at Bucky wondering how he could possibly be so unbelievably good looking, a familiar figure approached the table and poured herself a drink.
"Alright," Darcy said smiling at Bucky as the woman set something on the table top and walked away.
"Hey, wait! I think you dropped something," Darcy called out. Her eyes moved to the folded scrap of paper the woman had left behind and she picked it up curiously. She opened it, revealing a hand-written note: "Not sweet enough for my taste and way too lemony. I was so high that I finished two thirds of it before I could concentrate on what I was drinking. I kept waiting for it to get better. To be honest, I don't like lemonade. Too lemony." Darcy blinked in stunned silence and read it again just to make sure that it was legit.
"What's wrong?" Bucky asked with a hint of concern.
"Maryann from the third floor just left this for me," Darcy sighed, passing the note to Bucky. He read it over carefully and crumpled it up in his bionic fist.
Darcy sulked as Bucky disassembled the lemonade stand and they returned to their apartment in silence. He was simply too furious to find the right words to comfort her. She kicked off her shoes and shuffled off towards the bedroom, flopping down on the mattress face-first. He took a few minutes to put things away before he joined her, snuggling up beside her.
"I had so much fun with you today, sweetheart. Seeing the smiles you put on all those faces. It seems like an awful shame to let one asshole spoil that for you," he said softly.
"It was a stupid idea," she ground out.
"No," he replied bitterly. "Drinking lemonade and complaining that it's too lemony is stupid. Leaving someone a really shitty comment without giving them the chance to respond is stupid and gutless and so fucking dirty. I'm so sorry that she hurt you like that. It's not right."
"I know that I shouldn't let it upset me but I can't help it," she sighed, rolling on to her side and looking at Bucky with a frown.
"Would it help if I took off my shirt?" he asked with a flick of his brow.
"It couldn't hurt," she replied with a shrug.
"How about if I told you that Maryann's been moved to the basement because she just can't seem to play nice with others?" he added, sitting up and peeling his shirt off over his head.
"Very interesting," she responded, climbing on top of Bucky and working on tracing over every chiseled inch of his exposed chest with her lips, fingers and tongue.
"And what if I told you that I know the exact location of her new desk?" he asked, shucking her tank top off and tossing it aside.
"Hmm... I like where this is going," she purred, glancing up towards him heatedly. "Tell me more."
"Steve's still got a full crate of lemons in his apartment," he said with a lopsided grin. "And in case you haven't heard, he and I go way back."
"You don't say," she marvelled, unclasping her bra and dropping it on the floor. "Anything else you'd like to disclose?" Everything became a swirl as she was suddenly pinned beneath him and she gazed up at his pretty face, hardly able to believe that he was real.
"I'm so in love with you," he sighed dreamily. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. Let me make this better."
It was hardly the first time he'd told her that he loved her but something about the way he said it made her melt. He hovered above her, brushing his thumb against her cheek and wet his lips as his eyes drifted over her face taking her in insatiably.
"You work fast," she teased. "I feel better already."
"I think there's still plenty of room for improvement," he observed, rolling his hips against her and brushing his lips over hers in the lightest of touches. "God, I want you. I want to make you come until you forget all about that note. I want to fuck the Maryann right out of you."
"Sounds like a solid plan," she replied between increasingly insistent kisses, "but aren't we a little overdressed?"
"You make a good point," he said, rolling off of her and standing up at the side of the bed. She clumsily unbuttoned her shorts as her eyes mapped out the topography of his perfectly sculpted torso, widening slightly at the sight of his hands unbuckling his belt so slowly that it left no doubt about whether he was doing it just to fuck with her. Bucky bit into his lower lip, delighting in teasing her as she slid her shorts and panties off completely. Her eyes moved lower as he undid his zipper and she swallowed thickly as she took in the sizeable bulge in the front of his pants.
"My eyes are up here," he drawled, smirking as she met his gaze. She rolled her eyes and his metal hand suddenly grasped her ankle and dragged her across the mattress towards him. The next thing she knew, she was tossed her over his shoulder and he was murder-strutting out of the bedroom.
"Bucky, wait! Where are you taking me?" she demanded, squirming under his grasp.
"Ever since you had me squeezing those lemons, I haven't been able to stop thinking about this," he replied, setting her on the kitchen table. She landed directly on top of the pile of crushed lemons and they slid beneath her with a wet, squishy sound. She gasped, looking at Bucky indignantly and he dropped to knees, licking his lips hungrily. Several soggy lemons rolled off the table and hit the floor with a splat as he impatiently settled her legs over his shoulders and pulled her towards him, pressing his mouth against her eagerly. She took in a sharp citrus-scented breath as his hands squeezed her hips and he lit into her with reckless abandon.
She moaned incomprehensibly, grabbing a handful of his soft dark hair and gazed into his bright eyes as his tongue traced over her clit devilishly, flooding her with white hot pulsing pleasure. Her heels dug into his back as he filled her quivering heat with two thick fingers, driving out a breathy cry of his name.
She ground against his face shamelessly, her legs trembling against his shoulders as his fingers brushed up against a spot deep inside of her that made her insides twinge. His tongue flattened against her as he pressed the same spot more firmly this time and she could feel the curl of his lips as the rushing of her heartbeat filled her ears. He knew her so well, including each and every one of her weak spots and she knew exactly what came next. He was going to continue to wring her out, just like those lemons she'd watched him squeeze earlier, until she squirted him right in the face.
"Oh, fuck, Bucky! Please don't stop," she moaned, tugging on his hair as he sucked her clit and his fingers continued coaxing her to come apart at the seams. She glanced down towards him and found his icy eyes drinking her in thirstily as he pleasured her relentlessly. He hummed obscenely as her breathing became ragged and her fist tightened in his hair in a silent plea for release. Every part of her throbbed in time with the beating of her heart as he drove her on a collision course with oblivion, winding her so tightly that she wasn't sure how much more she could stand. She became lost in the warmth of his gaze as her heart raced and he shot her a sly wink. It was ridiculously hot, so hot she couldn't, so hot that she erupted in a hot filthy rush all over his pretty face.
Her eyes snapped shut as a spectrum of lights flashed behind her lids and Bucky anchored her against him as every muscle in her body sharply contracted in exquisite bursts, drenching him in tart liquid excitement. She resonated with warm waves of euphoric bliss, pulsing rhythmically around his fingers and called out a long string of strangled curses as she began to shiver uncontrollably.
Bucky huffed out a laugh as several used lemons rolled off the table and hit the ceramic tile with a wet smack. His breath buffeted against her delightfully and she let out a long contented hum. He removed his fingers from her gingerly and sat on the floor, pulling her down into his lap and wrapping her in his arms. She melted into his embrace bonelessly unable to muster the strength to recoil from the sensation of his slick face and chest against her skin.
"Better?" he asked softly. Her eyes fluttered open slowly and settled on the glistening lower half of his face. It was so delightfully raunchy that her lips twisted into a wicked grin.
"It's a good start," she replied, "but I think there's still some room for improvement."
"Oh, really?" Bucky asked with a flick of his eyebrow. "The way I got you off, I thought for sure you'd be down for the count."
"I still feel some residual Maryann," she responded, pressing a delicate kiss against his lips. "Got anything for that?"
Bucky abruptly rose to his feet forcefully pulling her body against his as he kissed her ravenously. She clung to him with her arms behind his neck and her legs around his waist, thrilling at the taste of herself on his lips as his tongue brushed over hers. He took several careful steps and pressed her up against the kitchen wall, thrusting into her without the slightest hesitation as if he couldn't stand to wait a moment longer to feel her tight heat wrapped around him. She broke away calling out a breathy cry of his name as he filled every inch of her with hot throbbing Howling Commando. The room filled with a coarse squelching sound as he drove himself into her. It was so unbelievably nasty that she could hardly stand it. She began to smoulder deep inside with a familiar tightness and the tender ache between her legs pulsed more insistently.
"Mmm... So juicy," he said, pinning her under his icy gaze.
"Harder," she replied, tugging his hair sharply. He winced slightly and wet his lips, descending upon her in a passionate frenzy. The cold press of the wall against her back made her shiver as he thrust into her with powerful strokes, forcing out harsh puffs of her breath.
She sucked his tongue and her hand drifted to his bionic shoulder as her fingers gently outlined the edges of the metal plates exactly the way she knew he liked best. He moaned into her mouth and she swallowed it down eagerly, tugging on his hair and eliciting a low growl that echoed beneath her skin delightfully.
She hummed warmly and he drove into her harder, modulating the sound with each sharp thrust. The auditory feedback was so deeply satisfying that he stilled, momentarily struggling to hold it together as his cock twitched inside of her and he let out a muffled groan.
"Please, Bucky. More. Don't stop," she panted as her nails scrabbled over the edges of the plates in his arm desperately.
The muscles in Bucky's jaw tightened as he took in a fortifying breath and began thrusting into her like his life depended on it.
"Please, Bucky. More. Don't stop," she called out again and again, her voice rising and falling as he forced the breath out of her with each powerful stroke. Her cries became increasingly hoarse and urgent as he nailed her against the wall ruthlessly.
Bucky's movements slowed and he kissed her deeply as he felt her nearing the end. She closed her eyes, surrendering to him unconditionally as he attempted to coax out her climax with long firm strokes. His metal hand slid up along the side of her body, squeezing her breast and continued upwards, settling over the base of her throat. Her eyes snapped open, meeting his as his thumb brushed over her pulse point and she wrapped her hand around his bionic wrist. She squeezed and he applied the exact same amount of pressure with his bionic fingers around her throat. It was so strangely intimate that it got her off every time without fail.
She came in a flurry of nonsensical profanity and violent shuddering as Bucky unloaded inside of her in a series of disjointed thrusts and a torrent of coarse Russian. It was messy and beautiful. He covered her in soft kisses, murmuring her name against her skin as she flushed with warm pulses of sensual release and steadily slowing contractions of tender muscles deep inside.
Bucky removed his hand from her throat and placed it on her back, holding her close as he stepped away from the wall. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck as he held her against him effortlessly and retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge. He carried them in his right hand as walked back to the bedroom and set them on his bedside table. Darcy groaned softly as he withdrew from her and gently set her down on the mattress. He opened a bottle and chugged it, turning off the bedroom light and climbed in next to her. She rolled on to her side and sighed adorably as his metal arm wrapped around her waist and he snuggled up against her.
"Better?" he whispered, nuzzling the soft spot behind her ear. She hummed a lazy agreement.
"So, do you still want me to pick up that crate of lemons from Steve and dump them on Maryann's desk?" he asked, arching a brow.
"Why waste them?" she replied drowsily. "I love you. Stay here and squeeze me instead."
"Anything for you," he sighed holding her tightly.
Besides, the pile of squeezed, limp, discarded lemons in their kitchen would work even better he mused with a twisted grin...
"You're scheming, aren't you?" she chuckled.
"Who me?" he replied, squeezing her tighter. "Wouldn't dream of it..."
"Promise me you'll leave it alone," she asked soberly. "Whatever her reasons were for leaving that note, I don't care anymore. No more scheming, Sarge!"
"Alright, alright!" he conceded with a dreamy sigh. "But it'll cost you another batch of that lemonade, doll. And this time, I'm keepin' it all for myself."