have i got a story for you | darcy/steve
This was supposed to be a little ficlet about Darcy lusting after Steve in a tank top and then…it wasn’t. Thanks to blackestglass for putting up with my whining for the last hour+ while I tried to figure out if this was where I wanted to go with this.
“Oh God.” Darcy swiped a hand across her face. Who knew that alien guts would be so goopy? Or taste like cinnamon? When she mentioned this to Captain America—because no matter how Steve Rogers denied it, no matter that he was dressed as a civilian, the way he saved her just now proved that he was Captain America—he stopped his scan of the warehouse to stare at her incredulously.
“You tasted it?” he asked, like she was some kind of freak.
“It exploded over my face. And not in a fun porn star way. It was hard to avoid.” His eyebrows raised almost to his hairline, his lips curving in amusement, but Darcy felt her cheeks burn. She’d spent the last three days trying to convince him that she was a professional and not some superhero groupie; talking about porn was probably not going to help her case. But she’d always relied on dark humor when she was rattled, and despite having met aliens, having one explode all over her was definitely enough to rattle her. Her companion, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered in the least. “Does this kind of thing happen to you often?”
“More often than pushy broads accusing me of being a superhero,” Rogers said with a grin. He turned back to her, apparently satisfied that they were safe. He, she noticed, wasn’t covered in any of the icky at all. “You okay?”
She pushed another layer of goo off her face—it was easier to think of it as goo instead of alien guts—and yup, it definitely tasted like cinnamon. She shuddered. “Yes. Just…goopy. And don’t think you can divert me. After what you did today, you cannot honestly expect me to believe that you’re not Captain America.”