(“Soulmate"AU where you get a tattoo for every person you fall in love with)
Pepper’s tattoo is on her hip. Well, the one that isn’t faded yet.
There are five dull, grey ones scattered across her body, seemingly random and different in shape and size, but what do they matter? They’re done. It’s over. The only one she looks at these days are the sunglasses on her hip. They’re big. Obnoxiously big and shiny and she knows who they’re for, of course she knows. Tony has a little stiletto to match, right there on his ankle, bright blue and sparkly and the first time he showed her, she nearly apologized. It’s hideous and the both know, but it means love, so who’s gonna complain?
Understandably, no one is happy when the sunglasses start losing colour. At first, it isn’t even visible, the fade from black to grey barely noticeable, but then the grey becomes off-white and the glass loses its shine and Tony leaves, a bright blue stiletto still sparkling on his skin.
But Tony is fine, he said. Its fine, he’s fine - he’s always fine.
And Pepper sighs and strokes the steering wheel on the back of her hand that just appeared the day before.
When Natasha Romanoff
introduced Darcy Lewis to Steve Rogers for the first time, she hadn’t expected them
to know each other already and she definitely hadn’t expected Darcy to flip the
hell out when she laid eyes on Steve.
“You,” the normally chirpy brunette
hissed, pointing an accusing finger at a wide-eyed Steve. “What is he doing here?”
Natasha looked from one to the
other, suddenly very interested. “This is Steve Rogers, Darcy. Captain
Darcy looked stunned. She
snapped her gaze to him and said incredulously, “You’re the Captain? No! You
Steve carves out a spot for himself on the internet through an anonymous tumblr, a place where he doesn’t have to be Captain America. Darcy, starting back at Culver after a long break, isolated and alone, also restarts her own tumblr. They connect.
The Steve has a tumblr and no one knows it fic you never knew you wanted.
Thor sent her to help the Avengers, while he’s trying to find out who wants the infinity stones.
She is worthy and can hold Thor’s hammer(only her Mother Frigga knows about that) and also uses magic.
Steve is the first Avenger she meets. Maybe they don’t like each other at first, or are instantly attracted to each other. Natasha and Sam have fun being matchmakers. Could take place before or during Civil War.
Just a plot bunny that I will never write. So, does anyone want this as a prompt?
How about Darcy/Steve - making out in the back row of a movie theater
The lights dimmed and Darcy relaxed into her seat. It had been ages since she had gone to a movie alone, but she was certain she wouldn’t be able to convince anyone to see this one with her, which was fine because she enjoyed movies alone anyway. She took a sip of her root beer and took a handful of popcorn as she settled in for the previews. Just as the last preview ended, the seat next to her was suddenly filled by a man that had moved in so quietly that she nearly jumped when she realized he was there. She wondered why this man felt the need to sit right next to her when it was a midday showing and there were so many open seats, but he was quiet so she shrugged it off.
About 20 minutes into the movie the man stretched a bit and slid his arm across the back of her chair, “Really?” she muttered under her breath, preparing to turn and tell the guy off. However, her mind changed when she got a look at the hand connected to the arm and saw an absolutely ridiculous friendship bracelet on the wrist. She knew that bracelet. In fact, she had made that bracelet. That meant her mystery man was Steve.
Not quite sure what you’d call this, but when I finally post Geode to to AO3, it will have this scene added in there because the story seemed to demand it. How could I do a story about Steve and Darcy visiting museums and not bring up the fact that there’s a museum exhibit dedicated solely to Captain America?
While Darcy’s been to the Air and Space museum before (thank you, 8th grade class trip to Washington D.C. where one of her friends smuggled a naughty magazine onto the bus with them and they ended up breaking one of the beds in their hotel room because they were jumping from mattress to mattress and lied about it to the chaperones to stay out of trouble), she hasn’t experienced the Captain America exhibit yet. But the curators had called up Steve to consult on a new addition to the exhibit - which apparently was just asking him to verify if the items they’d found were actually his or just someone trying to blow smoke up their asses - and they’d decided to make a little vacation out of it. Some time that’s just for the two them, away from the familiar territory of New York and everyone who knows everything.
But the job comes first, of course, which leaves Darcy to wander idly through the fairly empty halls of the exhibit. It’s never entirely empty, not given Steve’s popularity and the fact that the entire museum is a tourist’s highlight, but on this Wednesday morning, Darcy feels like she can slip between the other tourists without being noticed, blending into the background as just yet another person who’s there to partake in the spectacle.
Steve is notoriously quiet about his private life - much to the dismay of the paparazzi who went in expecting another Tony Stark and got someone entirely different. Even so, word has gotten out to the gossip columns that he’d been seeing someone for quite a while now, though all they’ve been able to discover is that she’s female and brunette thanks to those few artsy photos of her shadowy profile Steve had put up on his Instagram page.
It’s funny though, no one ever seems to pay attention to them in the New York City museums. But that could be because it’s New York, Darcy thinks. New Yorkers don’t get excited about anything (or at least they don’t let people see them get excited), and as soon as Steve slaps a baseball cap and a jacket on he’s just one more meathead in the crowd that they don’t notice.
But in Washington D.C. Darcy feels exposed. Like there are eyes watching her from every direction, assessing her, determining her value and passing silent judgement that she’s not worthy of being Steve’s girlfriend. And rationally, she knows that’s bullshit. She’s entirely fucking worthy, and doesn’t even need to lift a hammer to prove it. But the whispers through cupped hands behind her back have always gotten to her, long before she’d ever even known Steve. Sometimes it’s hard to break through those years of old habits.
“Whatever,” she mutters under her breath, wrapping her cardigan even more tightly. “You are damn worthy.”
It’s hard to shake the feeling of creeping eyes on her, however, even if it’s probably only her head seeing things that aren’t there. So Darcy hunts for a shadowy corner in order to take a few minutes to regain her equilibrium, and finds herself wandering into the room where the Peggy Carter interview is running on a continuous loop. And boy, doesn’t that just make all the inadequacies come rushing back… Still, Darcy plonks herself down on one of the benches; it’s dark and quiet in there, the perfect little escape from the outside world.
Peggy Carter is an entirely formidable woman, even when she looks like she’s on the verge of tears. But then, it’s probably a natural response to have when one reminisces about the lost love of your life. When did you know, Darcy thinks, that this person - this magnificent and imperfect wonder - was going to be the one to get under your skin like that? That this person would be nothing less than the other half of your soul?
Darcy has never been good with emotions. She realized this long ago, and has accepted it as one of her deep flaws. That it’s far easier to be brash and loud, to put the safe parts of her personality out there for everyone to see because the soul, that inner part of her that bruises and sometimes doesn’t want to cope with the world, is soft and squishy and gets hurt all too easily. Why get hurt when you can get angry instead, has been the motto that’s gotten her over and through many rough times in her life. But this approach to the world has sometimes made her a little out of touch with her own feelings, she admits (if only to herself).
How do you know when you’ve found that person, the one who you don’t mind cracking open your skin in front of so that they can see the whole package of your emotions and not just the safe outer shell?
(Darcy studiously avoids thinking about the fact that Steve could be that person for her, because emotions are tough and the deeper she looks the more in over her head she might find herself. Romance is such a strange thing, in her experience. But that doesn’t mean that it’s not good for her, that having that imperfect and wonderful compliment to her soul would make her more like the true self that she wants to be instead of that facade that the world sees.)
Ugh, she gets awfully maudlin once the caffeine wears off. Darcy grimaces, and is incredibly grateful that the darkness of the film room keeps her hidden from the group of elderly ladies a couple of rows down from her commenting about how much they like Peggy’s suit outfit. It’s better to focus on Peggy than on herself, anyway. On the screen, Peggy makes a comment about how, even after his (supposed) death, Steve was always changing her life. Ain’t that just the truth, Darcy thinks in full agreement.
After a while Darcy needs to leave the movie room, because otherwise she might start crying at the intensity of Peggy’s emotions. They’re not obvious, because Peggy is a consummate professional, but Darcy knows the type (she’s one herself, after all) - never let them see you sweat or see you cry. So she wanders back out into the main exhibit, washing up in front of a display that outlines some of Peggy’s other accomplishments that weren’t related to her time with Captain America. It’s only a matter of seconds, however, before she sees a shadow loom up next to her, followed quickly by soft footfalls that come to a stop next to hers.
When she looks up at Steve, it’s all too easy to see the strain on his face, even half hidden by the baseball cap he’s got shoved on his head. His eyes are tight, mouth pulled into a slight frown. His shoulders are hunched over, hands shoved into his pockets, and, at least for this moment in time, he looks a hell of a lot less intimidating than she’s ever seen him. There’s no need to ask him how he feels when it’s written all over him, Darcy thinks. So instead, she just waves a hand at the display in front of her and says, “She’s a hell of a woman.”
“That she is,” Steve replies, the frown dropping away from his lips for a moment and replaced by something far more soft and pensive.
“Come on.” Darcy weaves her arm through his, tugging his body close to hers. “Let’s get out of here and see some sunlight.”
It’s one of those days that moves slow like molasses, thick and lazy, traveling along without any actual aim and just spreading about instead. It’s a good day, sunny and warm even though it’s late in November, and they stroll along the streets, wandering into bookshops and cafes and places that Darcy hopes won’t remind Steve of the past. Anything to take that frowny look of his face, she thinks. Eventually they head back to the hotel with the intention of getting ready for dinner…but the best of intentions are forgotten when Darcy all but pushes Steve back on the bed, and starts planting kisses down his torso, peeling back his sweater as he goes. After that, room service is the only dinner option that either one of them has the energy for.
“I know what you’re doing,” Steve says afterwards as he stumbles out of bed towards where the room service menu is.
“What am I doing?” Darcy sits up, dragging the sheets around her shoulders and attempting to bring some semblance of order to her sex-tossed hair. It’s a futile effort, but she has to try anyway.
Steve arches an eyebrow at her and crawls back onto the bed, menu in hand. “You know, you’re not as subtle as you think.” He presses a swift, firm kiss to her mouth. “It was a good day. Thank you.”
Darcy smiles back at him, followed swiftly by the sound of her stomach grumbling. “You’re very welcome. Now feed me.”
“As you wish.”
The picture that gets posted to Steve’s Instagram later is a simple one, overlaid with a black and white filter that just emphasizes the shadows coming from the small lamp off in the distance of the shot. The main feature of the photo, however, is the two hands tangled together, fingers intertwined, relaxed and resting on a pillow. And while nothing else is visible aside from the extension of their forearms, the implication that there are two people on the other side of those hands, snuggled up and resting together, is a given. The caption simply reads ‘a good ending to a good day.’
Ugh this has been sitting on my computer for more than a month. Take it, just take it!
Bucky: Did she just slap you?! Steve: [silently watches the angry nurse march away] Bucky: Who is she? Steve: [absently, as he studies the new surroundings] Darcy. Foster’s assistant. Bucky: Why is she here? Steve: How would I know, Buck? Bucky: Why did she slap you?
“I hate you.” Steve said, his voice laced with anger and disgust.
“You should’ve told me this six months ago.” Darcy said, standing in the doorway of the equipment room. “It would’ve saved me a lot of frustration, that came with having to deal with your stubborn ass.”
“Darce,” Steve started to apologize, but Darcy interrupted him.
“It’s okay, I knew you weren’t talking about me.” She replied, giving him a reassuring smile.
“Sorry for ruining your hour of sanity. I can only imagine how much you need it. Jarvis shouldn’t have called you.” Darcy tried not to laugh, as she watched Steve look up at the ceiling.
“J was only concerned about you.” Darcy explained. “Everybody here cares about you. I care about you, so no more apologies.”
Steve let out a sigh, feeling defeated. They could read each other like books. Something that he loved, and sometimes annoyed him.
“Just having a bad day.” He finally said.
“You need this more than me.” Darcy handed him the cup. “It’s my grandmother’s secret recipe.”
Steve took a big gulp. His eyes closed, and making a ‘mmm’ sound. There was a smile of bliss or pleasure on his face, as he savored the flavor. Real homemade Hot Chocolate, not from a packet or can.
“Do I need to leave the two of you alone.” She was unable to resist making a joke out of his reaction. Steve’s eyes opened wide, and he almost choked.
“Just feeling like a man out of time.“ He confessed, changing the subject. Darcy reached up with her right hand cupping his cheek, and Steve leaned into her touch. The lost and lonely look in his eyes slowly fading away.
“Don’t get me wrong I know I’m lucky, but I do miss my old life.“ He continued. “When people saw Steve Rogers, instead of just Captain America. I try to hide my frustration, and how pissed off I am.“
“Do you really hate Captain America that much?” Darcy asked the question, that had been weighing on the tip of her tongue. Steve removed her hand from his face. She immediately regretted her question, afraid that he was going to walk away. That fear quickly disappered when he didn’t let go.
“I know people sometimes forget about the man wearing the suit.” She felt him gently squeeze her hand, and Darcy was glad she hadn’t scared him away. “I’ve seen all the punching bags you destroyed. Who says that this is a lifetime job? You own the suit, it doesn’t own you.”
‘It’s not in me to quit.” Steve replied, sounding more emotionally drained than serious. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I did.”
“I know quitting isn’t you style. Remember, that you’re not alone.” Looking him straight in the eyes, and he understood how serious she was about this. “All I’m saying is stop being the SHIELD, and public’s version of Cap.”
“Make your own version of Captain America.” She replied, then repeated herself. “You own the suit, it doesn’t own you.” Before Steve could respond Darcy cupped his face in her hands, standing on her tippy toes and gave him a short but sweet kiss.
“Sorry for the interuption, Darcy.” Jarvis said. “But, Team Science needs your help.”
“What did the three stooges do this time?’ Clearly annoyed, and reluctantly letting go of Steve.
“Don’t forget your cup.” Steve said, still a little dazed and confused. “There’s still half left.”
“Keep it.” Darcy replied, standing in the doorway. “It tasted better on your lips.” She gave him a wink and a smile,
and then was gone. Steve finished the Hot Chocolate, looked at his suit one last time then left.
A week later Darcy and Jane are looking over, or rather arguing over some notes when Steve walked into the lab. The room was dead slience, but the only reaction he cared about was Darcy’s
“What do you think, Sweetheart?” Steve asked, showing off his new suit. Darcy dropped her coffee cup, staring at him speechless. “Good or Bad?”
Darcy just stood there staring, oblivious to anyone but Steve. Jane elbowed Darcy in her left side, bring her out of her trance. She babbled the only thing she had been thinking.
“Are you trying to kill me or turn me on? And, you owe me a cup of coffee.”
“How bout Hot Chocolate?” Steve smiled avoiding the puddle of coffee and glass, and reaching for her right hand. “It makes everything better.”
“Maybe we can figure out the secret ingredient together.” Darcy replied adjusting her grip on his hand, as they walked out of the lab.
Jane just shook her head and smiled, as she cleaned up the mess.
The first picture is a manip that I made. It’s the whole inspiration for this story.
[[ I liiiiiive! And I’ve returned to you with some writing! *distant cheering* I’m starting to work through my prompts, so if you’ve sent one in, never fear they have no been forgotten! For this prompt, @eclipseoftheheartandsoul asked for Deaged! Tony, Bucky and Steve, with Darcy calling baby Tony a stud. I hope you enjoy it, dear! ]]
The elevator lets out an obnoxious ‘ding’ as it arrives, the sound loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the room. The doors slide open to Darcy’s grinning face, “Okay, so it’s ass o’clock in the morning and there’s more blood than caffeine in my system. What’s the emergenc- whoa!” Darcy cuts herself off mid tirade and blinks as Natasha bears down on her. The usually immaculate assassin is now anything but; her hair in a riotous mass of curls around a pale face bare of makeup. There’s what looks suspiciously like a jam kiss riding high on her left cheekbone, and a matching chocolate one on the opposite cheek. Natasha’s clothes aren’t faring much better, covered in glitter and scraps of felt. “Okay, why does it look like a day care centre threw up on you?” Darcy wonders aloud, in the tone of someone who very much does not want the answer to that question. Natasha’s eye twitches worryingly, and Darcy spends a moment silently reciting her will, and then gets distracted by the thought of Thor carrying her coffin, alone and shirtless. The image is both morbid and hot, very hot. Muscles.
When Darcy returns to reality, Natasha is still staring at her, patiently, like she knows Darcy just briefly left the planet. “Children.” She enunciates carefully, when she realises Darcy is paying attention. Darcy blinks, and slides her gaze over the other woman’s shoulder to the disaster zone beyond. Bruce is sprawled across the couch, covered in glitter and snoring. Clint is dozing on the back of the couch, his hair spiked with an alarming green substance Darcy doesn’t dare identify. Even Thor looks exhausted, slumped on the floor and hugging Mjolnir like a particularly hard, hammer shaped safety blanket. Actually, now that she’s looking, the ends of his hair look a little singed. “Children did this?” Darcy finally gets out, and is treated to a repeat of Natasha’s eye twitch. “It looks like you were attacked by a horde of angry scrap bookers!” Darcy’s voice climbs in volume, and Natasha’s eyes go wide. She gets halfway through shushing the other woman when a soft ‘thump’ comes from another room, and Natasha goes still. “Oh, no.” She whispers, as Clint snorts awake on the couch and Darcy looks on in bemusement.“The young sirs are awake.” JARVIS says, in the same tones one might say ‘the bomb is about to go off’, or ‘the zombies are at the door and you just used your last bullet’. Darcy belatedly wonders if she should have brought her taser, at least for comfort since she can’t see herself tasering small children, no matter how demonic. And then the sources of terror enter the room, and Darcy forgets about the state of the other Avengers entirely.Bucky enters first, and is easily recognised for his tiny metal arm. He’s wearing Iron Man pajama pants and a Hulk shirt, looking tousled and sleepy-eyed as he wanders in. Steve is behind him, tiny and fey looking with his white blonde hair and impossibly blue eyes. He’s clutching a teddy in one hand and Bucky’s flesh hand with the other. Tony is the last, and his appearance takes the longest for Darcy to compute.
He’s wearing a suit. He’s a tiny, dapper, immaculate little gentleman and Darcy just wants to smoosh his fabulous little face. “Oh, my god look at them. Look at them.” Darcy whisper shrieks, and the kids blink at her with varying levels of suspicion. After a moment, Tony walks past the other two, crosses the room and holds his hand out to her. “Hello, ma’am. My name is Tony.” He says crisply, and while it’s adorable it’s also a little sad to see such perfect manners in someone so obviously young. Darcy grins and reaches down to shake his hand. “Hi, Tony! I’m Darcy.” She replies, like this is totally normal, and is treated to a shy smile. “You’re very pretty, Miss Darcy.” Tony whispers, like it’s a secret, and his little face goes all pink. Darcy almost swoons. Bucky barrels up next to Tony, Steve on the other side until Tony is smooshed between them. “M’Bucky, an’ this is Steve.” Bucky declares, glaring pointedly at Darcy’s hand where it still cradles Tony’s until she lets go. Bucky immediately links his arm through Tony’s and Steve does the other, mutinous blue eyes staring up at her until Darcy feels wildly uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you, boys.” She gets out weakly, and then can only watch as Tony is resolutely tugged away to a small table in the corner covered in art supplies. Evidently, the table is where everything started. Natasha stares mournfully after them, no doubt expecting another explosion of mess. “I told you,” She says softly, and Darcy nods dazedly. After a moment of watching the three boys carefully orbiting each other’s space, she grins brightly. “Dude, baby Tony is a stud!”
Darcy opened her eyes, blinking into the sun. “What the…” she sat straight up. “Oh my god…” she looked around the beach, the smoldering remains of the quinjet jutting out of it. Smoke rose up into the sky and she realized that she didn’t know where Steve was.
Steve, her sullen copilot, who hadn’t spoken four words to her the entire time they’d been in the air. Steve, who’d crashed a plane in the 40s and woken up seventy years later.
She got up, her sodden and sand covered clothes rubbed her in all the wrong places, and her ankle felt like it was probably sprained, if the shooting pain was any indication. “STEVE!” she called as she hobbled. “STEVE!”
She turned, whipping her head around until she saw Steve, over on the far end of the beach. His tactical gear was ripped, like hers probably was. But he was running towards her.
And he was alive and he was another human being. And she was so happy to see him.
When he grabbed her arm and yanked her in the other direction, she was confused at first, but when Captain America tells you to run, you run dammit.
So she ran, trying to ignore the pain in her ankle, or maybe it was the adrenaline of the whole thing keeping it from hurting. Whatever it was, she was well aware she shouldn’t be able to do what she was doing.
But when the quinjet exploded, she knew the reason for all the running, and she didn’t care if she was destroying her ankle. A destroyed ankle was better than being dead.
Steve pulled her behind some ginormous boulder stuck in the middle of the beach. And he covered them both with the shield as debris fell around them. Stuff bounced off the vibranium and Darcy was just glad that it wasn’t their heads, to be honest.
It finally died down and they were left with a blazing inferno of a quinjet mess and Steve was throwing the shield aside to spread out and take deep breaths.
“You okay?” Darcy asked.
He turned to face her for a moment, frowning as if he didn’t understand what she was saying. “Yes. Are you?”
NAT: the drunk af aunt who spills gov secrets and her drink but still looks classy af
VISION: awkward uncle who stands under the mistletoe in an ugly christmas sweater mumbling about symbolic foliage and its origins, wants to kiss Mysterious fam friend
TONY: wasted cousin from out of town who invited himself, spikes the eggnog with asgards strongest booze and trips over his own feet as he slurs and butchers Oh Holy Night
PEPPER: Wasted cousins wine drunk gf, rearranges vegetable platters to be symmetrical, smells good, only eats organic food
CLINT: second cousin twice removed, sneaks bites from the food before it’s time to eat, disappears into the woods for half a day with nothing but a bow and three arrows
WANDA: mysterious fam friend who carries a knife and tarot cards, speaks in metaphor, lives on spicy food
PIETRO: Mysterious fam friends twin, volunteers to do the shopping, finishes within less than 10min, uses a whole roll of tape to wrap a single present, buys expensive gifts, flirts with Hyped up espresso girl, won the olympics //track// for 3yrs in a row before quitting
BRUCE: acts like a 86 year old grandpa, comes in from out of town just to rage over the thermostat being touched and silently observe everyone, hogs the tv remote
THOR: super spiritual hot guy from out of town, invited by a cousin, unnatural height, broke a cup just by holding it, talks about the universe while downing alcohol like it’s water, never seems to get drunk
JANE: tries to explain physics to a group of children, it ends with them throwing shoes into the fireplace bc “she says it could be a portal” “i said no such thing”
DARCY: makes out with the santa impersonator, hyped up on espresso, talks too fast, friend of Physics (see: jane)
BUCKY: the hot grandpa who still looks 23, appears homicidal in fam pictures, sneaks off with his childhood pal during prayers, has kissed him under the mistletoe 6x and honestly he’s just rubbing it in the single relatives faces now, never married, may or may not have killed a man in 1943, dresses like he’s going to a funeral, listens to johnny cash
STEVE: hot grandpa’s pal, also looks creepily young, tells you to Watch your fucking language, claims he could kill a man with nothing more than a garbage can lid, prob isn’t lying, wears suspenders, still goes to the gym, owns a working record player
LOKI: that one snooty relative everyone avoids, makes babies cry by smiling at them, tells the kids santa isn’t real, insults hot spiritual man in another language, cops are called to break it up
SHARON: repackages store bought pies, pretends theyre homemade, watches It’s A Wonderful Life every year, dresses like she’s going to an office meeting, brings a gun to christmas dinner, small but deadly, leaves early with Gov secrets aunt
SAM: answers everything sarcastically, ex military, irons his clothes, swears a lot, argues about how to properly cook a turkey before taking over altogether, smells like soap and the outdoors, tells Wasted cousin to back the fuck off, leaves mid dinner bc he thought he saw a very rare bird, brings his pal riley who is also his secret bf but everyone knows
RHODEY: neighbor who tells the same stories every year but changes minor details, has too much spiked eggnog and knocks over the tree, butchers christmas songs with Wasted cousin, bonds with Ex Military Sarcastic relative over the future of aviation, no one knows his real name
SCOTT: fresh out of prison, spends the entire time oogling Hot grandpa’s pal, makes you look at a seemingly endless stream of pictures of his daughter, hates baskin robbins, has an ant farm, overly physically affectionate
WADE: tries to kiss his sisters boyfriend under the mistletoe, wears crocs with socks, brings a bag of chimichanga’s that he refuses to share, his plus one is his blind elderly roommate, blasts rap music at one in the morning, has a witty retort on the ready, shamelessly wears a lewd christmas sweater, winks at your mom, seductively eats candy canes while maintaining eye contact
PETER: 16yo nephew who collects comic books, designated amateur photographer, watches star wars religiously, climbs things he shouldn’t, thinks the 90’s are vintage, actually a danger noodle
((if you have a request lmk and I’ll make one for that character. this was fun))
Inspired by this post and based on @glynnisi’s insane prompt. If you want to blame anyone for the following piece of crack, blame her. I know I do.
For as long as he could remember,
Steve had been attracted to Darcy. She was smart and plucky, open to new
friendships and remarkably accepting of all the madness that surrounded their
lives in the tower. He had met her by accident, having ventured into the labs
for the first time in search of Bruce only to stumble upon her instead, standing
on a table and trying to get into the vent above. (“CLINT! You give me back my
taser or I’ll fucking end you!”) One look at her and Steve knew he would fall
hard. There was just something about her, something freeing, that made him want
to take her hand and run away, regrets and responsibilities be damned.
“Good Morning America!” Darcy said enthusiastically. “How’s the view from your part of the world?”
“It would be much better if you were here, Darce.” He replied honestly. “And, I just got up.”
“You’re slacking off, Handsome.” Darcy teased him. “It’s 8a.m. in New York. What happened to your ‘ass crack of dawn’ morning run?”
“Can’t sleep good without you, Sweetheart.” A hint of loneliness in his voice. “Been far away for far too long.” Darcy frowned. She knew that Steve hated losing time with people he loved. One of the side effects of his seventy years ice nap.
“I love it when you use song lyrics, to show how much you care about me” Darcy said, trying to make him smile. “Much better than any mixed tape.”
“That wasn’t intentional, it’s how I feel. But, I’m surviving without you.” Taking a bite of his corn flakes before continuing. “Not that I want to. Natasha kicks my ass when I start to mope. I guess I have you to thank for that.”
“Yes, you do.” Darcy explained. “No one likes seeing a sad Steve Rogers. It’s the equivalent of someone taking all cat videos off the Internet. It’s something that you don’t want to happen.”
“I must sound lonely, needy and desperate for you.” Steve replied. “It’s official, I’m in love. I’m blaming you.”
“Damn straight you’re mine.” Smiling and sounding very proud of herself. “And, you’re not needy or desperate.” You just miss your girl, and it’s nice to be loved and missed.”
“I’ve been away for a month, and the separation has been hard on me too. But, it proves we’re not clingy or joined at the hip.”
“At least the time difference isn’t that huge. London is four hours ahead of New York City. You could alway steal the Quinjet, and come visit me.”
“Always an option.” Steve said regretfully. “Unfortunately, I have to be a responsible leader. Putting my wants and needs aside, no matter how much I don’t like or want to.“
“Let’s blame Jane for our misery.” She continued. “How dare she be the world’s only expert on the Convergence. She’s finally getting the scientific acknowledgement she deserves, and a Nobel Peace Prize.“
“All the fame is keeping me away from my cuddly human space heater. At least, we both have our comfort foods.” Purposely slurping her coffee to prove her point.
“How’s your corn flakes, and what you call ‘real’ milk in the glass bottle?” She asked, and Steve knew what she was going to say next. “Do you know the real reason corn flakes were invented?”
“Some crazy doctor thought it was a way to stop people from masturbating. An anti-sex food.” It really was one of the most ridiculous, but true things that he had read about. “Internet so helpful.”
“And, how’s that working for you?” Darcy laughed. “You eat that cereal like it’s religion. Is it curing that craving?”
“Not even close.” He replied, his voice a little rougher. “You’re the only taste I crave.”
“Damn it, Steve! Now I need to have room service bring me a few boxes of corn flakes…you know for Science.”
“Save the science experiment for when you come home.” He laughed. “I’ll demand our money back if it doesn’t work.”
“Very funny.” Darcy said. “I already told Jane that when we get back, I’m taking a few days off to work on my science experiment.”
“Like Jane would have any say in the matter.” He replied. “I’ll probably go all caveman on you. Throw you over my shoulder, and carry you back to our apartment.”
“As long as it doesn’t end there.” She demanded. “I expect a lot of sex and cuddling when I come home. Phone sex, sexting you while you’re in a meeting and video chats don’t compare to the real thing.”
“I don’t sleep well without you either. She finished, stifling a yawn. “I need to feel you wrapped around me. Guess that means I’m in love. It’s all your fault.”
“Damn right it is.” He replied, and Darcy could picture the smile on his face. “I love you, now get some sleep.”
“Love you too, Steve.” She replied. “I’ll hang up, and let you have some quality time with your anti-sex food.”
Steve hung up the phone, and ate another spoonful. Whoever believed that cereal was a cure for masturbation, obviously didn’t have someone like Darcy Lewis in their lives.
(Yes, it’s crazy but true. In 1894, two brothers, Dr John Harvey Kellogg and Will Keith “WK” Kellogg, were running a sanitarium and health spa in the town of Battle Creek, Michigan. Corn flakes were originally invented as a way to stop people from masturbating. )