Chapter Text
Darcy had never been what anyone could call shy. Her nights off from work with Jane usually included a very small shirt and mini skirt combo in a very loud club with heavy bass pounding through her body. Though she was more a tease than someone who banged a different guy(or girl, she wasn’t picky) every night, she couldn’t help it if she needed to let some extra steam off every once in a while. Her tattoos caught everyone’s eye which made her all the higher on the attention and feeling of the bass and hot bodies against her.
She was pretty sure Jane didn’t even know she had tattoos, at least not this many. Her Anchor with and NJ to either side of the column on her wrist was fairly obvious. Her horoscope symbol, the sideways 69, that sat just behind her right ear was more than a little suggestive and she knew it, but she loved it. Her massive curtain of chocolate curls usually covered it, anyway. The ones Jane didn’t see was the large multi colored phoenix that started at the crest of her left hip and wound down to her mid-thigh, the ‘You can’t take the sky from me’ that spanned the entire width of her shoulder blades, and the Celtic knot work on her right hip, among others. She was addicted to ink! What could she say? Less with the piercings, though she’d recently branched out with a small purple ring through her left eyebrow.
Meeting Steve and being one of the few that didn’t walk on eggshells around him had put more than a little bit of a spoke into her usual routine. She traded her club nights with too much alcohol and not enough clothing for cozy nights in pj’s and movie marathons. Steve had a lot to catch up on, after all. After a few months they’d covered that he didn’t like movies about ghosts, or war – fair enough. He loved animation, chick flicks including but not limited to Rom-coms, and period pieces. Shakespeare in Love was a favorite, as well as The Lord of the Rings (“You’re crazy, and no longer a friend of mine if you don’t love it,” Darcy had encouraged at Steve’s skeptical gaze.)
A Saturday like any other, except this time Steve was half a world away instead of in her apartment in Stark tower, looking at her with something just a little more than friendly appreciation, picking a new movie from her and Stark’s expansive collection. He texted early in the evening to say that he was fine and hoped she was having fun without him. She promised she was, but that she missed him, as she applied her brightest red lipstick to match her strappy pumps with a black leather mini skirt and a black ripped back crop top that had ‘Bang it out’ plastered over her chest. Practically living with a man that could be considered a Greek god had taken its toll on her – she was looking to get some tonight and push the thoughts of Steve’s expansive, perfect chest out of her head.
[Text – incoming: from Jane Foster] Hey, what’re you doing tonight with tall, golden, and perfect gone?
[Text – outgoing: to Jane Foster] Just going out like I used to. It’s been too long. Thinking about seeing some girls from High school.
Darcy felt a little bad about the lie as she finished perfecting her dark eyeliner, adding a little silver glitter. She just needed to make sure that Jane wouldn’t try to invite herself along.
[Text – incoming: from Jane Foster] Oh! Fun! I’ll see ya Monday, then? Or maybe we can do dinner tomorrow, if you’re not too hungover?
Cue relieved sigh and large smile from Darcy.
[Text – outgoing: to Jane Foster] Of course! I’ll text you tomorrow. Or just show up in the lab since I know that’s where you’ll be. Don’t even lie!
[Text – incoming: from Jane Foster] >.< …you’re probably right… xD Have fun!
Darcy darkened the screen of her phone, tucking it into her tiny clutch that wouldn’t get in the way of her dancing. The club she frequented was just a block to left of the tower and she was so used to her impractical shoes that she didn’t give walking a second thought. At reaching the door though, she paused –
“Jarvis, my main man?” She questioned, peering up at the ceiling.
“Yes, Miss Lewis?” the AI responded in his cool British tones, sounding suspiciously like an actor she liked.
“Is anyone in the halls or elevator?”
“No, Miss Lewis. All Avengers seem to be on a mission or in for the evening. What shall I say is the reason you’re not home, should anyone ask?”
Darcy beamed at the ceiling, the AI always knowing what needed to be covered. “Late dinner on the other side of the city with some high school friends. Thanks, J-man!”
“Of course, Miss Lewis. Have a good evening.”
She nodded, knowing he’d …it? would see her and headed out the door.
It was only a little after 8, but she made it to the club in record time, just nodding to the bouncer who beamed, greeted her by name, glanced down at her barely concealed chest and let her in without a second thought.
Maybe she needed a new place she thought to herself as she made her way to the bar, the pounding beats of a techno song sinking into her bones. She sat at the bar for a few minutes, nursing her ‘sex on the beach’ before a remix of Neon Hitch’s ‘Fuck You Betta’ blared through the sound system. She hopped up and pushed her way to a somewhat center spot on the dance floor and started swaying a little. After a few seconds, she felt hands on her hips, a small blonde woman with crystal blue eyes who had a tall dark haired man grasping her rather small hips from behind. She stayed with them through the remainder of the song, but excused herself with a small kiss to the blonde’s jaw when it ended.
Making her way back to the bar, she felt pleasantly buzzed from the heat and drink. Not buzzed enough, she thought as she ordered a ‘God of Mischief’. This particular bar had a small drink menu dedicated specifically to the Avengers (and apparently Loki) that had been implemented about two weeks after the Battle of New York and all the options had quickly become patron favorites. She downed nearly the whole thing and was tipsy enough (god, when did I become such a lightweight? She scolded herself, silently) that she would remember little of the following interaction.
“Hey, doll,” The man that appeared next to her said in a clear Brooklyn accent, tipping his head down slightly in greeting.
“Well, hey yourself, handsome,” she replied, grinning as seductively as she could without her jaw dropping at the sight of his eyes – they were almost the exact shade of startling blue as Steve’s, but the dark hair and playful smirk made her think of someone else that was awfully familiar, but she couldn’t place it and didn’t care to when she noticed his eyes had wandered to her ample curves. He took her in with all the attention of a starving man, eyes catching at each tattoo. His tongue peeked out to wet his lips and that was all she needed. She wasted no time and no more words in dragging him out to the dance floor where heavy remixes of Breathe Carolina had started. She swayed a little to get him going and boy, when it rained it poured.
He wasted no time in setting one had to her hips, the other tangling in her hair and pulling her close, grinding gently, the smirk still in place and an eyebrow raised in challenge. She couldn’t help but lick her lips, thinking an eyebrow ring would make that move extra hot. She blinked, shook her head minutely, and then gave as good as he was giving. Her hips moved rhythmically of their own accord against him, her skirt inched up, revealing more of her tattoo than was strictly decent. About halfway through the second song she turned around, her ass pressed to the bulge in his overly tight black jeans. Mystery man’s hand shifted down to the hem of her skirt, the one in her hair moving to rest on the top of her phoenix.
She lost track of time and didn’t need alcohol to feel drunk off the sensations. After another song, grinding dirtily enough that she was surprised they hadn’t been thrown out or just started the sexytimes on the dance floor (sexytimes? Really, brain?!), she suggested they leave and mentioned her place was close. He nodded and followed her out.
He paused for a second outside the tower as though he were scared of it, but shook his head and followed her in. Within seconds of entering the elevator to the seventh floor (that was entirely hers. God, she loved Stark. She might have owed him something dirty if he wasn’t already taken.) she had this man (what is his name? Did I ask, did he tell me? I should maybe find out..)pressed into the corner, her lips slanting over his in a deep, passionate kiss that left no room for interpretation of what she wanted. He rested his right hand on the phoenix again, his hand large enough that it practically covered what was visible of her tattoo. His left however was hidden behind him, holding his balance(like he has balance troubles.. well, that is a lot of muscle) Her own hands were occupied as well, one settling on the back of his neck, tangling in the long wavy hair, the other settling on his chest. The elevator chimed far too soon and she rushed to door, making quick work of the lock and handle and yanking him in.
He took the hint, letting out a soft chuckle and pushed her up against the door, reconnecting their lips as though it was as necessary as oxygen. She sighed against his mouth and tugged gently on his hair, tilting her head to deepen the messy kiss that devolved into the clacking of teeth and inhaling of each other’s soft moans as she rolled her hips up to meet his. He settled his hands just under her thighs and lifted her, legs locking around his hips automatically.
“Bedroom,” Darcy mumbled as her head tilted to the side to allow him room to kiss and nip at her throat, eliciting a gasp when he sucked hard on her pulse point.
“You got it, doll,” he murmured against her ear, flicking the lobe between his teeth before carrying her down the hall to the unnecessarily large bedroom. When they reached it, her set her down on the edge of the bed. She yanked her suggestive shirt off over her head and quickly removed the skirt to reveal a black lacy bra and panty combo. Once his own shirt had been removed, he glanced down at her, his pupils blown and his eyes a little wider.
“Well, aren’t you a sight,” he whispered, a little incredulous. Darcy blushed under his intense gaze and lowered her head, though she caught the shine of the street lamps off his… metal limb (?) and saw the scarring around it. She thought better than to ask, but wondered how he was so charismatic and magnetic after something so tragic.
“Get back down here,” she muttered breathlessly. When he did, flicking up the button of his jeans, first, she slotted her hands back into his hair and kissed him, wiggling until he settled between her spread legs. The metal fingers lowered slowly as they kissed, deftly removing her underwear and his own jeans with her barely noticing, though she noticed there was nothing under the jeans. (That couldn’t have been comfortable. Also definitely not that drunk… right? Just drunk on touch! Shut up brain…)
He broke the kiss and slid slowly down her pliant body, pressing kisses and marking the pale skin with small bites and licks. Though she had enough presence of mind to know what was coming, the first flick of his tongue over the most sensitive part of her body still made her jump, almost her whole body coming off the bed with a sharp gasp. He chuckled lowly, hands resting on the Celtic knot and phoenix, the cold metal making her shiver as she lay back
“Relax, doll,” he muttered just loud enough for her to catch before tilting his head back down, licking a stripe up her folds in earnest, appreciating the gasp that devolved into a low moan. After a moment of acclimating her to his tongue, he dove in devouring her. Every flick of his tongue and every time he sucked her clit between his teeth made her see stars. (and thank Stark silently for making sure everywhere in the tower was sound proof. She was making more noise than she thought strictly necessary, but couldn’t stop herself) He slid two fingers of his flesh-and-blood hand into her, scissoring gently to prepare her, pressing gentle kisses to the inside of her thighs. When he added a third and pumped them in and out of her, brushing the spot inside her with every thrust, she moaned a little louder, squirming under his ministrations. Without dislodging his fingers, though taking longer because of it, she reached into her bedside table and brought out a condom, using her other hand to remove his fingers from deep within her. He looked up, eyebrow raised again and opened his mouth.
She spoke before he had the chance. “Want you in me. Like, right the fuck now. Get up here,” she demanded, eliciting another laugh from him.
“Mm, the mouth on you,” he replied, taking the condom from her , opening it and sliding it on, while she brought forward a small bottle of lube, pouring a bit into her palm. He watched, utterly mesmerized while she reached for his cock, stroking slowly to evenly coat with the lube but not enough to get him anywhere. When she was pleased with her work, she laid back – hair spread around her pillow like a halo – and guided him into her. Her tight wet heat made him want to jerk forward, but he bit his lip, resting one hand on the bed beside her ribs, brushing the words across them that he couldn’t quite make out softly, the right one settling in the curve of her neck and shoulder.
Darcy let out a low gasp, eyes screwing shut as she adjusted to the fullness. How she hadn’t noticed that he was a little bigger than she was used to, she’ll never know. His own eyes slipped shut as he bottomed out, hips flush with hers and they moaned in tandem, low and deep.
They both stilled, their sounds of their slow, deep breaths, filling the room and the air between them. Her hands had rested on his hipbones and finally she drummed her fingers on one side and mumbled ‘move’ in a soft, desperate voice. He obliged instantly, sliding back out, groaning at the delicious drag of her insides against him, the pushing forward. Her small keening gasp made him a little crazy, wanting to pull more wonderful noises from deep within her. He kept his thrusts slow to feel every inch of her beautiful body around him. Memories of a different time and a very different body under him flashed behind his eyes, but he shook them off and started moving a little faster as if to chase them off. Each moan that slipped from between her lips got a little louder and a little higher as his speed increased.
“Ohgod… fuck yes, right there, c’mon, faster,” she babbled, unable to hold the stream of words back as he filled her so completely, the drag more intense than anyone else she’d ever been with and wondering as a quiet afterthought if he’d just ruined sex with anyone else for her.
He couldn’t hold back a small laugh, but had no more words, just kept up the speed like a champ, never seeming to tire or slow, though his human arm shook just slightly. She turned her head, brushing her lips against his wrist, as her ankles pressed against the meat of his ass, forcing him a little deeper each time. She threw her head back against the plush pillows and nearly screamed when he held himself hard against /that/ spot inside her, tremors wracking her body with the force with which her orgasm overtook her. Her entire body clenched, holding him inside her and the increased tightness forced his own release on him without warning.
He lowered his body to hers gently so as to balance his weight, and they stayed entwined as their breathing slowed. When her legs slid off his body, releasing him, he slid out of her, forcing another soft moan from her at the stimulation of her over sensitive nerves, and collapsed next to her.
“Damn, doll,” was all her murmured, turning his head to look her cheeks flushed and chest heaving. “Didn’t even get to see those beautiful tits,” he added in a joking tone, eyes flicking down a bit.
She laughed around her breathlessness and leaned up, unhooking the bra and tossing it to the floor.
“Better,” she challenged, raising her pierced brow and scooting to the head of the bed and under the covers she raised for him as well.
He nodded and removed the condom, tying it off and tossing it into the wastebasket before sliding under the blanket and curling up next to her. They both passed out within moments without another word.
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When she woke the next morning, she saw the hulking (ahahaha! Hulking… ohgod…) body beside her, sprawled on his stomach, still naked and hair covering most of his face.
“Damn. Darcy did good,” she muttered under her breath so as not to rouse him, then found a large t-shirt to thrown on, along with her panties, to make some coffee. She was a champ at the morning after at this point and exited her room in near silence.
He stirred at the smell of fresh coffee and wandered out to the open space of kitchen, dining room, and living room, his jeans on and zipped, but not buttoned and no shirt. She turned, two mugs sitting on the counter in front of her. “Morning,” she said around a grin in his direction. “Don’t know how you like your coffee, but I’ve got everything.”
“Black is fine,” he mumbled, eyes taking in the apartment from the stacks of movies on the coffee table to the overly formal, untouched dining room table. A picture of Darcy and Steve (both bodies had been under him… Steve? Smaller… right? Asset doesn’t know Steve) sat by a lamp on a corner table to the left of the couch.
Darcy stepped up to him, holding the two mugs, the one with plain black coffee in it extended to him. He still felt overly familiar, but she was definitely gonna be more than civil til she placed it. “Here ya go,” she handed the mug over then moved to sit on the couch with her feet tucked under her once he took the proffered cup and took a small sip. She held her own in both hands, eyes slipping shut as she took deep drinks.
He set the mug on the pristine dining room table and disappeared down the hall. When he came back, shirt and jacket had been replaced, shoes on. He looked a little stricken.
“I have to go.”
Darcy’s eyes snapped open just in time to see him dissipate behind her door and the door itself slammed behind him. She shrugged it off as weird, morning-after behavior and went about her day as usual. She cleaned up her entire apartment to the overly loud sounds of A Day to Remember, texted Steve and Jane, and planned to finish a little work for Jane she’s been procrastinating on. Even with a perfectly clean apartment, she couldn’t find the papers she needed to read. A burst of realization hit her and she giggled when she looked under the couch and found the stack of scientific journals….and one of Steve’s sketchbooks. She flipped through the pages carefully, smiling at each piece she found. There was one of Pepper, clearly annoyed with something Tony had done but the admiration in her eyes made Darcy’s stomach flip, one of Bruce mid-eye roll (probably also because of Tony, she noted), a few of her, all profile from when they were watching movies, and the last one….
Her breath caught hard in her constricting throat and the sketchbook fell from her hands, her body frozen in place at the realization.
Those eyes… the striking blue eyes, locked with hers as his body moved above her… the ones that seemed so terribly familiar.
Bucky’s eyes. James Buchanan Barnes (minus a limb, but looking no worse for wear from it). Steve’s best friend from the 40’s. Longer hair… alive?! Was it him… had to be.. he never had kids so it couldn’t be a grandson. And she’d seen weirder things.
“Oh god. What have I done?” She squeaked to the empty room.