#ragwitch prompt party

[ragwitch]

I love your writing and have no idea why I wasn’t following you before, but that’s all fixed now. ;) I’d love a WinterShock fic (mutual pining, first kiss(es), no smut) pretty please!

Hello love!! Glad you found me!

Pairing: James ‘Bucky’ Barnes/Darcy Lewis

Rating: G

*Ping*

Bucky smiled as he heard the click of the connection in his ear.

“Morning, Darcy,” he said.

“Morning, handsome,” said his AI, voice warm and raspy. “How was your night?”

“Little spotty,” he said. “Couple nightmares, nothing I didn’t shake off this time, though. Kept makin’ myself get back to sleep.”

“Stubbornness is the key to recovery,” she snarked and Bucky grinned.

“What about you? Any sleep?” he joked.

“Sleep? What’s that? Can I eat it?” she teased.

The sliding glass door of the porch opened and Steve raised his eyebrows, passing Bucky a cup of coffee.

“Tell Steve I say ‘hi,’” Darcy purred in his ear.

“Darce says ‘hi,’” Bucky said and grinned at the way Steve’s cheeks pinked at the greeting.

He would make fun of the punk for letting a little computer program with an angel’s girlish voice get him as bashful as a pair of seamed stockings. But Steve knew that Darcy had a similar effect on Bucky. Stark must have spent a lot of time on coding ‘flirt’ into her.

“Punk’s got no manners,” Bucky said to her as Steve moved to the far end of the porch to curl up in a chair of his own. He grinned as Steve flipped him off.

“Aww, tell him I want to pinch his cheeks,” Darcy said.

“I will not,” Bucky answered tightly and he closed his eyes to listen to her laugh.

-Two months ago-

“Hello Sergeant, my name is Darcy,” her voice was smooth in his ear, clear even over the sounds of his keening screams buried behind clenched teeth. “I want you to follow the sounds of my breathing, as you’re able. Inhale,” and over the comm Steve had pressed into his ear was the slow intake of breath. She went through three cycles of breaths before he was able to hiccup an inhale through the scream in his throat.

“That’s it,” she whispered, soft and gentle, reminding him of the nurses in the army camps. “Let’s try another.”

_

“I don’t want some girl, some stranger in my ear all damn day, Steve,” Bucky hissed, pressing the comm under his thumb and shoving it across the table.

“She’s not a…Stark sent it to me,” Steve said, pushing the comm back. “Stark writes AI programs that…they’re a lot like people. Darcy is for your recovery.”

“I don’t want a robot in my ear either,” Bucky snapped.

“One hour,” Steve said. “One hour a day. And during panic attacks. You don’t gotta…tell her things. She’s just meant to…to be there.”

_

“Sergeant Barnes,” she appeared in little whispers in his ear sometimes. “You’ve been still for two hours.”

He blinked and looked at the bare wall of his cabin room. She was right. The sunlight had shifted from the dresser over to the closed door.

“Dunno what to do,” he said, and she hummed in response. He realized he liked that sound. “Don’t call me Sergeant Barnes.”

“Alright,” she said, and there was just a little note of defensiveness. Enough to make him blink and sit up in the bed. “What should I call you?”

He was quiet for a long time. “I don’t know.”

She hummed again and his shoulders eased with the slow note. “Alright, handsome,” she said and he blinked, startled. “You have a well-stocked kitchen and you and Captain Cute-Butt have been microwaving Hungry Man dinners for thirteen meals in a row. You’re going to make brownies.”

“Dunno how,” he said.

“Color me surprised,” she said, voice dry. His mouth twitched. “I’ll teach you.”

_

“Darcy?” He settled the comm in his ear, chest still heaving from the night terror, wiping sweat off his forehead.

There was a click in his ear and then, “Hey handsome.”

He paused for a moment, struck by the exhaustion in her voice.

“You sound tired,” he said, surprised. Sometimes it was hard to believe the voice at his side all day every day (it had only taken a week or so before he’d stopped taking her out after the first hour or two) was really artificial. She was so expressive, so full of human variety.

“Sleep is for the weak,” she said, voice brightening.

“Would you…would you talk to me? For awhile?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said. “Let me tell you about the fifteen baby penguin videos I watched today. Since you refuse to watch cute animal videos.”

“I like your descriptions of them,” he said, settling his back against the cool wall behind him, and watching the door to his bedroom.

There was a pause and then she purred in his ear, “Charmer.”

_

“Do people still go dancing?” he asked.

Darcy giggled in his ear for a long time and he waited, smiling and stirring at the gravy he was working up on the stovetop.

“Oh boy, do they,” Darcy said, still snorting. “Not the same. It’s kinda…sexier than what you’re thinking maybe.”

“Hey now,” Bucky said. “You dunno what I got up to in dance halls.”

“Ohhh I bet I can guess,” Darcy said and he could imagine the grin that might’ve gone with the words…if she were real.

He wiped his hand across his face and shook his head. Maybe one hour a day would’ve been better after all. Maybe he wouldn’t be feeling all young and smitten over a complex and beautiful AI program.

“You getting ready to go out on the town soon, handsome?” she asked.

Bucky snorted. “Only girl I’m taking out on the floor is you, princess.”

“I’ll hold you to that. I’ll pick out a cute dress and everything.”

For a moment, he just let himself pretend, chest aching and soaring through the ‘what if’s of that possibility.

_

“Darcy?” he whispered. It was later than he liked to bother her. Which was silly. It was so stupid. But Stark had written in this lovely little detail, the rasp and squeak of her voice late at night as if he’d just woken a beautiful woman up from her well-deserved sleep. And he couldn’t help but relish and regret the sound.

“Mmm what’s up handsome?” she asked a moment later.

“Will you still be there? Next week?” he asked. “When we move to the facility.”

“Dunno where else I’m supposed to go,” she grumbled.

He grinned at the answer and the petulance wrapped around it. “Okay, princess.”

“Okay, handsome,” she said, softer. She got all sugared when he called her that. He was losing it.

_

“You with me?” he whispered as he and Steve stepped out of the truck Stark had sent for them to drive in.

“Every step,” Darcy answered.

He took a deep breath and nodded, patting the weapon at his hip and shouldering the bag of his belongings.

“Hey Bucky,” she squeaked in his ear, and Bucky stopped still at the nerves in her tone. Darcy sounded a lotta different ways but he’d never heard nerves before. “I’m really excited to…you know, finally meet you.”

Bucky blinked and Steve finally stopped his steady march toward the facility to turn back and stare at him, brow furrowing in concern.

“Just…it’ll be good to see your face,” she said, voice going higher, growing faster. “And to…to shake hands, or whatever.”

Jesus.

Holy shit. Jesus.

He’d known it and not believed it and she was…

She was waiting to meet him somewhere in that building. A girl who had coached him through breathing. Bullied him into moving. Answered him at three in the morning and narrated goofy internet videos. Who said she was picking out a special dress to go dancing in.  Who always made him take the brownies out of the oven five minutes before they were really done.

“Darcy,” he said, and her name felt like…like brownie batter on his tongue. Too sweet and heavy. “I…I can’t wait.”

She laughed in his ear, and he let his head run wild now, imagining what that laugh might look like. What it would sound like in front of him.

“See you soon, handsome,” she said.

“See you soon, princess,” he said, picking up his pace and cuffing Steve hard on the back of his head.

Stark sent the comm. He made AIs. Darcy was for his recovery. And all of that had been true but none of it had been right.

There was a small crowd waiting in the entrance. Steve was stepping forward to shake hands with Tony Stark and the beautiful, familiar, redhead. But Bucky was busy, scanning the crowd. Was she the tall brunette? No, the woman held her lips shut tight in a thin smile and that wasn’t his girl. And she wasn’t the little messy one who was scribbling in a notebook. And she wasn’t-

No.

There.

Bucky felt like all the pieces of him unravelled and then put themselves together again, but stronger and tidier and whole again.

That was her.

The short one in the cherry red dress and little heels. She was bouncing on her toes and she had a goofy, lumpy gray cardigan just barely thrown on as if she’d decided she was too dressed up and wanted to disguise the fact at the last minute. She was grinning at him and there was a gap in her smile.

She was better than anything he had imagined and dismissed, thinking he was being ridiculous.

He walked over to her and her little in-step bounces stuttered to a stop and she bit her lip and held her breath.

“Hey, Darcy,” he said, grinning, taking his comm out of his ear.

“Hey, handsome,” she said, and she pulled hers out too and beamed at him.

_

-Three weeks later-

Darcy opened the door to her housing suite after the soft knock and found Bucky Barnes waiting outside her door. She chewed at the inside of her lip, trying to surpress the grin that was breaking loose. Bucky Barnes, in a navy blue suit, holding out a small bouquet of brightly colored flowers. What a sight!

“You’re late,” she said.

His eyebrows rose up on his face and he laughed and she liked the dimples that appeared underneath his trimmed beard.

“I was going over the finer points of a lindy hop with a very nosy lady,” he said.

“Come inside,” she said, and she pulled him in for good measure.

“Cute dress,” he said, standing close and she could feel the heat rising on her cheeks as he flicked his fingers innocently against the full skirt at her hip, covered in huge red roses.

“I had time to pick a good one out,” she answered, taking the flowers from his hand and adding over her shoulder. “Since you waited so long to ask me out that I had to do it first.”

“I was working up to it!” he said.

He was following close behind and Darcy was tempted to stop in place, letting him run into her back so she could feel him there, framing her. But he was quick and he’d probably manage to avoid the crash.

“So since I asked you out,” she said, grabbing a vase as he grumbled behind her. “I guess that sort of makes this date backwards by your vintage standards right?”

Bucky snorted behind her. “You gotta funny ideas about the 1940’s, princess.”

“I was thinking we could start the night the way it would probably end,” she continued. Putting the flowers down on the counter behind Bucky and standing just in front of him. She added, “With a kiss.”

Bucky blinked and then his smiled softened and his hands moved to her waist. “So you gonna kiss me, Darce? In keeping with your odd views about dating ‘back in my day’?”

“I am. Yeah,” she said. “Just a heads up.” And she settled her arms over his shoulders and grinned as he pulled her in against him.

She wasn’t really sure that it was her kissing him, because they seemed to meet halfway together, her nose bumping softly against his cheek as she found her way to his mouth. It was one warm, soft press, simple and sweet, and then she rose up on her toes and opened her lips to wrap them around his pout. She hummed at the taste of him, waxy chapstick and coffee, and he held her tighter, toes bumping against each other.

She scratched her nails softly against the back of his neck and they parted slowly, with pecking kisses, until she was leaning back to meet his smiling gaze.

“You gonna take me dancing, handsome?”

“Been waitin’ to, yeah,” he said, grinning.

[ragwitch]

Hey! I’m back with my prompt that the tumblr fairy ate. Steve/Darcy, Love at first sight AU. (Smut is ok and encouraged!)

Hey! I think it didn’t eat it after all but it was submitted anon. But this is better cause then you’ll know when it came in! No smut, but I think you’ll like it.

Big embarrassing, over-enthusiastic hugs to @wahwahwaffles for betaing this and sharing her love of large noses.

Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers

Rating: T for language

They said it sounded like bells in your ears when it happened. Or a little triangle chime of punctuation.

Ting, you’ve seen them!

But Jane had said it sounded like fanfare, blaring through her neurons and triggering a migraine. So she hadn’t taken Thor very seriously at first.

So when Darcy sat in front of the television screen with Jane and the camera panned and zoomed in on a soot streaked chiseled jawline and eyes the color of cornflowers on the side of the road, she knew what the bone jarring GONG that ran through her meant.

“Oh my god,” Darcy said, blinking and leaning in closer to the screen. “That’s Captain America. Janie, I love him!”

Jane’s hand patted at her back. “He punched Nazis, Darce. We all love him. Do you see- Is Thor-?”

“Jane,” Darcy said, happily soaking up every second the camera lingered on Captain America’s perfect forehead or his adorably large nose. “I love him.”

Jane blinked and turned to stare at her. “Oh. Oh! Oh, Jesus, we’re a mess.”

“Janie, we have to get to New York, stat!”

_

Stat! had taken four days. Thor was back off-world—Jane was crushed—and Captain America was out of town. And worst of all, not a single one of the other superheroes, not even the Robin Hood, would tell her where he went. Because apparently, she wasn’t the only who ‘loved’ Captain America.

“Unreciprocated Sight isn’t that uncommon,” some quiet redheaded SHIELD lackey had told her with an apologetic shrug.

“But this was like…bone deep,” Darcy pressed. “I mean, jelly legs and numb fingers. It wasn’t just a little bell.”

The redhead studied her for a long moment and Darcy suddenly found herself wanting to shrink under what had previously been a very disinterested gaze.

“Steve Rogers just woke from seventy years of cold,” the woman said with a razor edged voice. “The world, and all the people in it he cared for, moved on without him. So, bell, gong, or tsunami. It can wait.”

_

It waited. Whatever it was.

_

“I think,” Ian chewed at the corner of his lip, warm fingers fiddling with hers. “I think, when I saw you…there was a little ring, you know.”

He pointed up to his ears and raised his eyebrows suggestively but even then it took Darcy longer than it should have to catch on.

“Oh! Oh. Ian…I…” So maybe she shouldn’t have kissed the intern’s intern in the heat of the moment.

His hands pulled away and he flapped them, chuckling or choking. “No, maybe not. Just a little…Probably not.”

_

“There’s a party, at Avengers Tower tonight,” Jane said.

Darcy dug crust out of her eyes—oh, ew! disgusting amounts of crust—and squinted up at Jane.

“I forgot,” Jane said wincing. “We were invited and I was going to take you and then you would finally-”

“Don’t worry about it!” Darcy said quickly, turning back to stare incomprehensibly at the computer screen in front of her.

“No, really,” Jane said. “I found my reminder but…just now.”

“It’s okay,” Darcy said, making her shoulders relax as she turned back to Jane. “Really.”

And she meant it. It had been years and there had been moments where she was a day away from meeting Steve Rogers, Captain America, her Love at First Sight. But she hadn’t and that had to mean something, didn’t it? Lots of people had their Sight land on superheroes. She would have another one. Someday. Probably.

Not knowing was going to be better than knowing that his eyes glazed over her without a second glance.

_

“We’re…we’re going to need to talk to Stark,” Jane said, falling into the spot on the couch next to Darcy. “Now that Thor’s gone. And shit is so…”

“Fucked,” Darcy supplied.

“Yeah, fucked,” Jane said, nodding. “But are you…okay with that? You know, given the whole…”

“Given the whole superhero show down in the airport parking lot?” Darcy asked.

“We could try and get in touch with Cap-” Jane started.

“Nope,” Darcy said, popping the ‘p.’ “You and me, Janie? We were not designed to be fugitives.”

Jane snorted and raised her eyebrows, fighting a grin.

“Okay,” Darcy said laughing, erasing her words with a hand through the air. “We obviously were. But let’s…let’s call Stark. Lay low. Add exorbitant clauses to your contract so that we get designer apartments with jacuzzi tubs and shit.”

“The jets feel so nice on my back,” Jane mused.

“They feel nice on my-”

“Okay,” Jane said, leaping up from the couch. “I’m calling Stark!”

_

“Hey,” Jane said, coming up from behind and wrapping her arms around Darcy’s shoulders.

“Hey,” Darcy whispered, staring out of the Wakandan lab tent they had set up for themselves in a rushed seventy-two hours. “The world almost ended,” she added.

“It did,” Jane said, nodding her chin into Darcy’s shoulder.

“But it didn’t end,” Darcy said.

“It did not,” Jane agreed.

“We helped it not end,” she pointed out.

“Oh we fucking nailed it not ending,” Jane said.

Darcy burst out into laughter but there was a sob close behind, and then another after that until Jane had turned her and wrapped her up in a near painful hug. Every bit of her was shaking and every bit of Jane was shaking and maybe even the ground was still shaking after the crash.

But hey.

Fuck it.

They were alive.

“Janie,” Darcy whispered into copious amounts of tangled hair.

“Hmm?”

“I wanna meet him.”

_

“You’re about to break your fingers,” Jane said, trying to pull Darcy’s tangling twisting fingers apart.

“Better mine than yours,” Darcy said, and her voice was all air.

They were too short for this. Two diminutive women standing on their tiptoes in the remains of the universe’s army. And what a lovely and unusual army it was. She would really appreciate all the diversity (Ent! Raccoon! Goatee Wizard!) if her heart weren’t slamming itself around her ribcage like a wild animal trying to break free.

“Gong girl,” said a low, warm tone.

Darcy blinked at the small, beautiful, blonde woman. “Shield lackey,” she said. “Ohhhhh shit not- no, sorry, not a lackey, obviously. You are…you are…great,” she finished lamely. And then shot finger guns at the Black Widow for safe measure.

“I owe you an apology. And I have someone I’d like you to meet,” Natasha said.

“Heh,” said Darcy, feet turning to mud. But Jane pushed her lightly forward to follow the Black Widow through the crowd. “I’m gonna barf,” she whispered to Jane.

“Ultimately,” Jane said, glancing down at the ground. “That won’t really matter.”

“Hmm,” Darcy said with a delirious nod of agreement.

Then she stopped still. Because a man made out of boulders had stepped out of the way and there was Captain…Steve Rogers, sitting on the back of a vehicle with a bloody cheek and a-

“Sexy as fuck, beard, Janie,” Darcy whimpered.

“Jesus,” Jane agreed.

And he was leaning against another stupidly handsome man who was petting a pile of guns in his lap like cats. Natasha was far ahead of them now, just reaching the vehicle, and he looked up at her approach. And past her to where Darcy was standing.

But Darcy wasn’t a person, she was a pulse, a thundering heavy, panicked pulse.

He was staring at her, standing up.

“Go,” Jane whispered.

“No,” Darcy said, or thought. Because she needed to know. Was it a bell? Or was he feeling the ground shift under his feet, the sky turning sideways overhead?

He passed Natasha with slow steps.

“Darcy,” Jane laughed. “Go.”

“I can’t.”

It didn’t matter. He was coming closer, and there was a gash sealing up on his arm and tears in the knees of his pants and she was on fire probably but who could tell?

“You’re…” he stopped just a foot away and swayed toward her.

Darcy whimpered and held her lips shut tight.

He swallowed and she watched his adam’s apple bob in his throat. Then he closed the distance.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

She was going to laugh, she really was. But instead she just jumped up and he caught her. And it was a kiss or something like it. If kisses were hungry creatures that tied your throat in knots and tasted like blood and turned your hands into desperate birds, searching for more skin, every unfamiliar bit.

He was holding her a little too hard but she had the hair at the nape of his neck in a vice grip, so that was fair.

“I never thought I’d See you,” he whispered against her ear and she wanted to crawl under his skin at the feeling of his lips anywhere on her.

“I didn’t think you would either,” she said. “Really glad the world didn’t end.”

He barked out a laugh and it was a sunny sound so she swallowed it whole.

[ragwitch]

Soooo. Now I'm back with a prompt, because you deserve all the good things in life and I'll make it one step closer to a full prompt list! Because I saw that you were hoping that you'd get enough! Well here's one more! Darcy/Bucky soulmate au (where you only see in black and white before you meet your match). Ps. Never done a prompt before so idk if that is too specific or not specific enough but I like your writing style enough to let you take whatever liberties. I'm just here for the meetcute

I have A LOT of feelings about this kind of soulmate verse!!! This is more than I meant to write, and probably a lot of extra stuff that you didn’t need outside of your meetcute, haha! But I definitely want to play with this again, so thank you so much for the prompt! I really hope you like it.

Pairing: Darcy Lewis/James Bucky Barnes

Rating: T

When Darcy Lewis was sixteen, she did not believe in soulmates. Her parents weren’t soulmates and they were the happiest couple she had ever met. None of her friends had soulmates and they were falling in love left and right. Soulmates, the Hues, were fairy tales and the people who claimed to have them, see them, were stuck up liars.

She had Values, and the sharp brightness of the sun or the glitter over water, or the deep absorbing darkness of a shadow at night were just as beautiful as any color a Hue could claim to see.

_

At twenty, in the desert, after electrocuting a man to the ground, Darcy Lewis stood next to Jane Foster.

“The night,” Jane whispered, staring up to the sky with sudden tears rolling down her cheeks. “The night has hues. Oh my god.”

If Jane Foster, the most practical, scientific, no-bullshit person Darcy had ever met, could see hues then they must be real.

At twenty, Darcy Lewis believed in soulmates.

After the Destroyer had been destroyed and Thor had vanished, Jane drove them both to Las Vegas to the nearest pigmented shopping district. Jane bought a can of Night Without Light paint (Value #5279832 and nearly black to Darcy’s eyes) and Darcy bought a gallon of Kernels paint (Value #1854) to paint her room in.

“That’s…a little obnoxious,” Jane said, wincing at the hue card in Darcy’s hand.

“Perfect,” Darcy said with a shrug.

They bought patternless clothing, dresses and shirts and pants all in one value, one hue. Darcy picked everything based off it’s name. Cockatrice, Envy, Electrical Storm, Life Blood, Bitter. Jane bought Deep Lake and New Growth and Dirt.

“People will think you’re Hued,” Jane whispered into Darcy’s ear in the dressing room.

“Perfect,” Darcy said with a shrug.

There was a department of hues for the body, eye powders and lips stains and nail varnishes. Jane wrinkled her nose at it all. Darcy bought one thing, a lipstick called Kiss Me.

“They look silly,” Jane said on the way home after stopping at a gas station. “I never knew how silly everyone looked, dressed in values. Spreading them on their faces. They don’t match. It’s all…splotchy.”

Darcy stopped wearing any makeup but the hued lipstick and her Value #9999999 eyeliner and mascara.

“The world doesn’t match,” Jane told her, out in the desert while she stared up at the sky. Darcy wondered if she was still looking for Thor, or if it was the hue of the stars and the dark sky that she was in love with now. “They tell you everything will be in hues, when it happens. But the world is designed for Values, we’ve built over all the colors.”

The next day Darcy wore her shirt the hue of Envy because she burned with it.

_

When Darcy was twenty-four she believed in soulmates, she believed in Hues, and believed she would never meet hers, would never match Jane’s descriptions of grass and sky and skin to their actual tones.

“But you’re so young,” Thor told her as Jane napped, upright at her desk.

“Only eight percent of the world sees hues,” Darcy said, scribbling with pigmented markers into a blank notebook. Orchid and Cerulean were nearly the same value, a reminder that her world was incomplete, missing information.

“And how much of the world is your age or younger?” Thor asked. “There is no age-limit on meeting your soulmate.”

“I don’t have five thousand years to wait, Thor,” Darcy said, raising her eyebrow.

Thor smiled. “You believe I am Jane’s soulmate.”

Darcy stared at him. “Of course you are.” He had landed and Jane’s world was in color. Those were the rules.

“Perhaps,” Thor said with a shrug. “I would like that to be so. We have always lived in color on Asgard, and we have the notion of a soulmate but no proof of it like Midgardians. Do you know what I think?” Darcy didn’t want to know what he thought. She didn’t want Thor saying anything but that he loved Jane and Jane loved him and it was a perfect absolute that brought Hue to Jane’s life.

“What?” she asked finally, because Thor had been patient.

“I landed, and I proved Jane’s work,” Thor said, and his fingers brushed against Jane’s hand, making hers twitch and reach for him even in sleep. “Tell me my love’s heart does not belong to her work, that her soul is not entwined with the stars.”

_

Finding your life’s purpose was about as easy as finding your soulmate, as it turned out. Maybe Thor had been right about Jane. They were still in love, that much was clear. What was clearer was that Jane’s priority was understanding, perfecting, and protecting the pathways of the universe. And Thor’s priority had always needed to be Asgard. Still in love, but not at once, not in rhythm together. And Jane still saw hues.

So Darcy had a degree and after the disaster of the Accords she found her calling. Unfucking the relationship between the world and it’s heroes. She loved it. She woke up everyday ready to kick ass. She felt fulfilled and purposeful and happy and satisfied.

She stared at the world and she counted every shade, the thousands of values in the moving ocean, in the streets of cities, in the sky. Orchid and Cerulean were close but they were not the same. There were more than 999,9999 little strands of light to see in the world. It was an infinite spectrum of value and it was beautiful.

_

The world did not end. Not when it was supposed to. Not when they promised it would.

That was good too. That would make Darcy’s job a lot easier. Heroes saving the day always did.

_

She almost didn’t notice, not at first. The heroes were trailing into the tent, one after the other, and it was a gloomy day, although by all rights the sun should have made an appearance for their victory. The world was muted, values blending softly together.

It was the Black Widow’s hair she noticed first. A low value, but bright and…words she didn’t know. The Black Widow’s hair…was hued. Everything. Everything was hued. Darcy gasped, a broken rattling breath, and fell back into her seat. Her skirt on her lap was vivid, saturated, strange and violent and Bitter.

“Bucky?”

She looked back up and Captain America had The Winter Soldier by the shoulder, worry between his eyes as the man—there was so much to see, she felt dizzy with it—stared raptly back at her.

“Hues,” Bucky said.

Soulmate, she thought. And some tiny, silly voice at the back of her head thought, Not bad, Darcy.

“Well shit,” Tony said and Darcy realized they really ought to talk about how ridiculous the hues on his suit were. Even if only eight percent of the population had to see them. “Let’s give them a minute.”

One by one the others left the tent—it was in a value, the tables and chairs were all valued too, as if a part of her world hadn’t changed when it had—but with the flick of the curtain Darcy could see that the outside world was riddled with hues and it made her heart pound. Bucky Barnes hadn’t moved, only watched her warily. She stood up and nearly laughed at herself. She was wearing the most…obnoxious colors. She must have spent the last seven years of her life looking like a color-blind Hue.

He was dressed in values but the hues of the room, the hues of her, of his hair—rich and warm and she wanted to touch it—bounced off the polish of his metal arm.

“You’re so…” he started and then swallowed heavily, eyes growing big as if he just realized he was about to speak out loud. But he came closer until they were standing just a step or two apart. She felt like she was learning a whole new language without being given any words. She had understanding and no vocabulary.

“How does anyone do this?” Darcy asked, finding his eyes and feeling shy and urgent all at once, feeling like their sharp pale color was peeling away all her secrets. “It’s everything at once.”

“You…” he started again and Darcy watched his eyes drift down to her lips. “That’s…quite a hue.”

“Kiss Me,” she said.

Bucky blinked at her and then before she could explain, he was there, warm hand pulling her closer by her cheek and mouth slotting over hers. Darcy made a sound, half-surprised and half-excited, and then her arms were over his shoulder and he was groaning as she returned the kiss, wanting every texture and flavor of him all at once. There was Hue in this too, she thought, the warmth of a mouth was a color and the taste of a man’s breath was a color and the feeling of fitting against a body so much larger and brutally stronger than her own was a color.

They pulled apart with a gasp and Darcy grinned, seeing the electric splash of her lipstick smeared across his mouth. She lifted her thumb to wipe it gently away and he leaned into the touch.

“The hue,” she explained, smiling at him. “It’s called Kiss Me.”

A new hue spread over his cheek and Darcy touched that too.

“It’s a good name for it,” he said, the blush (she had a dress called Blush and she wondered if it would match this) fading from his cheeks as he nestled her closer against him, and Darcy’s skin blossomed at every lick of touch. “A hue like that feels like an instruction.”

“Follow it again,” she said, watching his eyes change, darken. (Value or hue, who cared now?)

“Yes ma’am,” he said, and kissed her again.

[ragwitch]

Ayy, milestone prompt here :) Darcy/Loki, and fire? xxxxx love youuuuuuu

FLOWERS. I love you. Gosh. 

Unrelated but I just saw: THIS IS MY 1,000TH POST (yes my blog is a baby)

Pairing: Loki/Darcy Lewis

Rating: G

Loki’s jaw clenched as the Muspelheim guards led him closer to Darcy’s cell. Her cage. He could see her through the wavering flames, balled up on the rock floor with her face hidden beneath the hood of her sweater.

“This was unnecessary,” Loki bit out.

The guard to his right, a towering and smoldering creature with eyes like black stars, shrugged. It spoke with a sparking, spitting tongue.

“This is a luxury by our prison standards, princeling.”

Loki turned back to the image of Darcy flickering through fire and clenched his fists beneath his sleeves. He had been a king. Now princeling. And he wasn’t for a moment convinced that Surtr, King of the realm and supposed ally—after the demand for negotiations with Thor that had gotten Darcy kidnapped in the first place—hadn’t been perfectly aware that it was a Bad Idea to put a Midgardian in a cage of fire. Realm standards or not.

“The gesture is noted,” Loki managed to say, and let his tone speak to the nature of the ‘note’. “May I retrieve our ambassador now?”

“At your convenience,” the guard hissed, stepping back.

The flames remained intact. Ah. Very well then. He strode through, fighting the urge to flinch and losing it as he crossed the threshold. It was a damn oven inside, worse than the Muspelheim deserts. Darcy was limp as he lifted her from the floor, his fingers tracing at her wrists and temple. Her pulse was fluttering but her skin was raw and dry, lips chewed and chapped.

He had a choice. He could toss her over his shoulder like he would any other one of Thor’s mortal friends. Or…He cradled her against his chest, pressing her forehead to his neck and cooling his skin to provide some relief. When he turned, the flames parted in a doorway.

_

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

They’d been traveling for hours. He had been traveling. Darcy had been…sleeping, for the most part. Waking when he stopped just over the threshold into Niflheim, a gasp on her lips as the suddenly icy air rushed over her face. He had wrapped her in his cloak and fed her ice chips for the better part of an hour, her eyes rolling unseeing over his face.

“You’re awake,” he said and buried the feeling of relief under his steps. “Did you expect Thor to abandon his friend?”

“I didn’t think you would come,” she whispered, shifting in his arms to try and sit up a little, trying to take in the icy mountain scape around them.

He almost hadn’t. Well, that wasn’t true. It was never a question of him coming, not as far as he was concerned. His mind was made up the moment he’d heard. But he hadn’t even been on the first short list they’d come up with. If Thor honestly thought Sif and Korg would have been a more diplomatic envoy than him… He was offended.

“It was an accident,” he said instead, not answering her question. If it was a question at all. “You were meant to be Jane Foster.”

“Duh,” she said. “Who do you think told them I was Jane?”

“You what?” He glared down at her and found her skin too pale around her lips and eyes, too flushed over her cheeks. She would go into shock if he wasn’t careful. He needed to get her back to her planet. Their planet, he remembered with a grimace. “You didn’t even know what they wanted with her.”

“No, but I knew Jane would be the one to figure out how to get me back,” Darcy said. She shivered and pressed her forehead against his jaw line.

It had been Jane who contacted them. Well, Bruce. He’d called it ‘playing telephone,’ Jane getting in touch with him to get in touch with Thor when her science couldn’t trace where they had taken Darcy.

“How go the peace talks?” Darcy asked.

“Muspelheim maintains their tentative truce with Asgard’s people,” Loki said, with a shrug that was more of an excuse to hold her closer.

“Nooo, the Thor and Jane peace talks,” Darcy said.

He huffed. “Not high in my current interests.”

“It’d be nice to see more of you,” she said and her lips bumped over his pulse. “If they were friends again.”

He was silent, biting hard on his tongue as they reached a wood of frozen trees that stretched so high into the sky the legends claimed they were grew down from the ice laden clouds, not up from the ground. It would be nice to see more of her. To excavate the feelings she had brushed at in the course of one evening when they’d first arrived in Norway.

“Loki,” she whispered. “I’m getting…cold? But I feel dizzy.”

“We are almost to Midgard,” he said.

_

He wasn’t exactly following directions by taking Darcy to his home instead of wherever Thor and Jane were undoubtedly circling each other like wary cats. But he wanted her well not harassed, so delay was a necessary evil. And Darcy said nothing against it.

“Drink more,” he said, handing her another bottle of water (lifted magically from the fridge of Tony Stark’s personal lab in New York, just for fun.)

“Are you trying to drown me?” she asked, but she drank.

She was sitting with her legs folded on top of his bed. He had taken the charred sweater from her when her hands shook too badly to unzip it herself, and had opened the windows to let cool fresh spring air into the room. The worst of the shivers he had removed with a little bit of magic to loosen her muscles.

He reached out and set his palm against the side of her neck to gauge her temperature and she leaned into the touch.

“You run cool,” she murmured.

“I can,” he said, trying not to feel so dazzled by the bat of her lashes over her cheek or the way she always seemed to be leaning closer.

She met his eyes and gave him a small smile, gaze gentle. She knew, then. That was just as well.

He stood and moved to sit behind her on the bed. “Lean back.”

She hesitated and then shifted back, scooting closer and relaxing against his chest.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

“Loki.” She started to turn her head to look at him and he stopped her, stroking at her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“Please,” he said.

Darcy sighed and he could see her lashes flutter in irritation as he stared down her nose, waiting. But they fell shut and stayed that way. He unravelled the Asgardian illusion. Thor had asked once, if it was relief to let it drop sometimes and he had simply said ‘No.’ The truth was it felt like peeling away a layer of his own skin, leaving him more than naked. An open wound.

“Oh,” she murmured, shoulders easing as he shifted to his Jotunn form. “That’s really nice.”

He felt a twitch of a smile on his face and then her fingertips were grazing over the bare skin of his arms where his shirtsleeves were rolled up. Her touch felt like fire, still feverish from the heat stroke. He stiffened in place, uncertain if he wanted to pull away or press closer. Her fingers tangled with his, palms against the sigils over the backs of his hands and knuckles, and she wrapped his arms across her waist.

“Do you mind?” she asked.

He realized he was still rigid and he forced himself to relax, arms squeezing carefully around her.

“I don’t mind,” he said.

[ragwitch]

Hi! Congrats on the followers milestone! Ehh... a Darcy/Steve with a mermaid!Darcy plot, please? Gracias!

Coming right up with a side of brine!

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Darcy Lewis

Rating: G

The groceries thunked on Darcy’s kitchen counter and Steve could hear a startled splash from the bedroom.

“Don’t shift,” he called out. “I’m just back with groceries for dinner.”

“I don’t mind-” she started.

“Sweetheart, just relax. You’re meant to be taking the week off your legs.” He appeared very quietly in the doorway of the bedroom.

Darcy was floating, tail down, in her saltwater pool, illuminated softly by the pink and purple pool lamps. Her hair was plastered wetly to her back and her scales were glimmering gold and violet at her temples and on her wrists. The rest was obscured by water.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she said, bobbing just enough for him to see her bare shoulders.

“Darcy,” he said softly, wishing that he could join in her in the water at that exact moment and show her how little he minded gills and a tail. He settled instead for saying, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable either. If it’s too much for me to be here, I’d rather head out for the night so you can get your rest. But I’d like to stay.”

There was a shimmer of indigo black under the water and Darcy swam closer to the edge of the pool, revealing the gold running down her spine like a trail of treasure coins.

“Okay,” she said, resting her chin on the ledge.

“Can I come give you a kiss?” he asked.

She winced for a moment and then nodded. “Better do it now before I have fish breath.”

He withheld a sigh and went to kneel at the pool ledge. He cupped her chin in his hands, careful not to brush his fingers against her gills under her ears. (He’d touched them out of curiosity the first night she’d invited him to her apartment to see her real form, and she’d whimpered and then looked nearly nauseous with shame.) He dropped a kiss on her lips, and then licked quickly at the salt on her lips. She laughed, small but he would take it, and pushed off the ledge, twisting and diving and flicking water at his ankles with the tips of her fins.

Darcy Lewis on two legs was brash and flirtatious, delightfully lewd and playful, confident and extremely open. And Steve had dated her for eight months before he’d asked her to move into his Tower suite and she’d finally revealed to him her heritage. His best girl was a mermaid. It hadn’t been so hard to digest, not after everything else he had seen.

What had been baffling was that Darcy Lewis the mermaid was almost an entirely different person. She’d only just been willing to let him see her shift in the water, and she’d nearly shook herself apart allowing him to run his fingers over the scales that ran up her forearms. He was wasn’t about to push her on the subject, but he was hoping she’d let him in soon on the basis for some of these insecurities and fears. For now he was willing to just take the little openings she offered him. Like admitting that she’d been wearing herself down playing human for days on end with almost no interruption, and she needed to recuperate in her own home.

Well alright, then.

Steve returned to the kitchen and put a bundle of seaweed, an ahi tuna steak, and some specially ordered tropical sea brine into the blender and made his girl a smoothie. He poured it into a large glass and dropped it off at the pool edge, watching Darcy swim circles under the surface of the water for a moment before going back to work. He twisted seaweed into roses—with oysters resting in the buds—on a platter, surrounding a small pile of roe and sliced thin sheets of flying fish before rolling them up like little straws.

Darcy was sitting up on the ledge of the pool when he carried in her dinner, and his own enormous tray of sushi. She stared at him with wide eyes as she sipped on her smoothie.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she murmured, staring at the plate as he set it next to her hip. But her tail was flapping happily under the water and she immediately picked up a small roe and popped it into her mouth. “I would’ve eaten sushi with you,” she added.

“This is better for you,” he said with a shrug.  He sat down on her other side and rolled his pant legs up to his knees so he could dip his calves into the water.

“I probably would’ve eaten sushi even without you,” she said, and she was grinning at him. “I haven’t…I haven’t had food like this in a long time.”

She spent too much time trying to blend in, he thought.

“I got mussels for breakfast tomorrow,” he said, keeping that thought to himself. He’d made his best guesses on what a mermaid might enjoy. He’d find her the delicacies of her people, if she ever gave him any clues.

“Steve,” she murmured, and she leaned against his side, bare breasts against his chest, and didn’t apologize for dripping on his shirt this time.

“I’ve been talking to Tony about putting a saltwater pool into the Tower for me,” he said and Darcy stiffened but stayed leaning against him. “Going on about the benefits and all that. He’s pretty well sold. Also I told him I wanted to take you on a nice vacation somewhere so he’s lending us some island. Ten miles of private tropical beach.”

“Steve!” She was pulling away now but when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, she put her own around his waist, beaming a bright smile up at him.

“Eat your dinner, sweetheart,” he said, grinning.

She narrowed her eyes at him but smiled and sucked down an oyster with a side of seaweed. He popped a slice of nagiri into his mouth and they both fought their grins.

“Do you want to swim with me later?” she asked after a minute. Her voice was quiet but her tail was brushing against his feet.

“Yeah, I do,” he said. He blinked and then added, “But I tend to sink so you might have to keep an eye on me.”

She laughed, head thrown back. “One eye and both hands, I promise.”

[ragwitch]

Would it be possible to get some Shieldshock "This person asked if I could hold their hand because their ex just walked in with someone new, so naturally I felt bad and held their hand for a while. Then it dawned on me, with no other couple in sight, that was the best damn pick-up line ever pulled." Pretty please?

Absosmurfly!!

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Darcy Lewis

Rating: G

She appeared at his side in the coffee shop line, the sweet, soft girl from the labs that Bucky kept calling his ‘little tomato’ because she blushed every time they passed her.

“Can you do me a favor?” she whispered at his side, glancing at him briefly from behind her glasses. “My ex just walked in with his new lady friend and I maybe kinda told him I’d moved on with someone new too. Could you hold my hand?”

Steve hadn’t had Natasha drilling him on fading into the scenery, or adapting to new information for no reason. He wrapped an arm over the woman’s shoulder and leaned down to mime pecking her cheek.

“Ohh you’re good,” she said turning stare at him with wide eyes that quickly grew wider. “Oh shit! You’re-”

“You’re Darcy, right?” Steve asked, grinning. “Thor talks about you a lot.” And so did he and Bucky for that matter but he wasn’t about to mention that.

She blinked and he wasn’t sure if she was consciously leaning into his side or… either way he liked it.

“You’re…Steve,” she said finally, and she looked anxious but she nestled in closer as the line moved and her hand slid across his lower back. “He talks about you too.”

“He shoulda introduced us,” Steve said and he grinned as she glanced up at him and blushed.

“I’ll chastise him,” she said, brightening. “I love chastising Thor. What are you doing in a coffee shop, though? Don’t you have lackeys for that?”

“I’m practicing blending in,” he said, and nudged at his baseball and glanced over his shoulder at the line behind them. Hmm. “How’s your ex looking?”

Darcy startled a little under his arms, eyes twitching nervously. Then she gave him a sheepish grin and said, “Convinced.”

Given that there wasn’t another couple together anywhere in the shop, Steve just let that slide. He’d been looking for an excuse to chat Darcy Lewis up for months, preferably before Bucky took the chance. And this was a very good excuse, with lots of touching.

“Can I be a good date and buy you a coffee then?” he asked.

“Only the very best dates buy me coffee,” she said. “So yes, honey cinnamon latte please. But I have to get back to the lab.”

“I’m on my way back too. Should we keep up the facade while we walk just in case your ex heads that way too?”

Darcy snorted and shook her head, then she smirked and her hand snuck down into the back pocket of his jeans.

“I mean…” she drawled with an exaggerated shrug. “I wouldn’t want him to think I was just picking up random broad-shouldered dudes in coffee shops with a poor excuse for a pick up line, now would I?”

Steve buried his laugh and stepped up to the counter to get their drinks.

They held hands as they walked down the sidewalk to the Tower.

“I should…I probably shouldn’t start a scandal walking into the Tower holding Captain America’s hand,” Darcy said, biting her lip. “…Should I?”

Steve took their joined hands and pulled them behind his back. “Actually,” he said, tucking her hand back into his pocket as she laughed. “I have some friends who think I dunno know how to chat up a beautiful woman. Mind helping me out with that?”

“Steve,” she said, settling back against his side as he opened the door for them. “I am available to clear up any misconceptions about your game.”

“Could take a lotta convincing with Bucky,” he said.

“Didn’t take much with me.” And then she squeezed her hand inside his pocket and giggled as he skipped in step.

[ragwitch]

If you still have prompties left, Pairing: Quicktaser, Prompt: Knitting? Congrats!

EEEEE KNITTING. This might not be accurate to science but NO ONE WILL EVER PROVE OTHERWISE (probably, I dunno) Basically, thank you love and I hope you enjoy this!

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff/Darcy Lewis

Rating: G

“Please, go,” Wanda whispered.

“I am going,” Pietro hissed back. But, for once, he wasn’t moving.

“She has a lovely,” Wanda waved a hand around the top of her head. “She’s lovely. And you are mooning and it annoys me.”

He scoffed. If they wanted to play that game, he had his own list of complaints.

“Go,” Wanda snapped, elbowing him in the back. “Or I will fill her head with embarrassing thoughts of you.”

She wouldn’t. She probably wouldn’t. He crossed the room, just in case. He tried to keep a normal pace, but there were little nervous squirrels running through his body so instead moving slowly he zipped and stopped and zipped and stopped.

It didn’t matter. Darcy was sitting in the window seat, the one Tony had bickered and bargained and ultimately lost the argument before filling with pillows for her. And her eyes were closed as he arrived, head leaning back on a pillow, face in the sun. Her hands were busy with two sharp needles whistling against one another as she wrapped and knitted, wrapped and knitted, fingers blurring as they flicked and twisted. She rolled her head and peeked one eye open before sitting up sharply.

“I didn’t mean to…to surprise you,” he said.

“You didn’t,” she said, but she sounded startled. Her fingers were still moving.

From what he had learned on the blogs and and the videos and the books and his own exceptionally frustrating experiences in learning, knitting was hard enough without doing it with your eyes closed. But he had overheard Darcy talking to Pepper about learning from her scottish grandmother when she was four and that eventually you learned how a stitch felt as you knitted it, so you could rest your eyes sometimes.

“Are you…did you need something?” Darcy asked, blinking at him, cheeks blushing.

“I know how to knit,” he said, abrupt and clumsy, twitching at the bag on his shoulder.

“Oh!” she said, and she smiled. “Do you wanna join me?”

More than anything.

She jumped slightly in place as he threw himself onto the cushion next to her.

“What are you working on?” she asked, settling in closer and craning her neck to peek into his bag.

“Nothing yet,” he said. He pulled an enormous ball of soft gray alpaca out of his bag, that he had wound and nearly strangled himself with, and a pair of metal needles.

Darcy went to settle back into her pillows.

He set the ball down on the floor, because nothing seemed to work for keeping it in his bag or at his side, and casted on. The ball twitched and spun on the floor as he put forty stitches on in a quick breath.

Darcy gasped. “Wait,” she said, laughing. “Can you…? How fast can you knit?”

He grinned. Darcy squealed as he went to work, crouching on her knees safely close to his shoulder, watching the needles blur and buzz and the ball of yarn hop and run across the floor as he sped through the length of it.

“This is amazing,” she said as he was halfway through. So he went a little faster. He had found a threshold for this, where the needles were too hot and the yarn too stressed, but that was alright because Darcy seemed to be perfectly impressed while he was at half speed.

She was clapping and giggling as he bound off the last stitch.

“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod,” she said. “Lemme see it.”

Pietro passed her the scarf.

“That is fantastic,” she said, running it through her hands. “Your gauge is actually really good. Oh! Dropped stitch, here I’ll get it.” She dug through her own bag and pulled out a little open hooked stitch marker, slipping it through the loose stitch. “You can just weave it in later.”

“Thank you,” he said, frowning at himself. Stupid nerves. He hadn’t dropped any on the last attempt.

“Hey,” she said, and she bit at her lip and he wanted to pull it free and soothe it for her. “Do you wanna try something?”

“Yes,” he said, blinking.

She passed him her project, something baggy and slightly resembling the start of a sweater. “Can you do three inches? Just knitting. It’s in the round.”

“Of course,” he said, and went to work.

Darcy’s ball of yarn launched itself out of her bag, and went flying around the floor as he knitted. He was more careful this time. No dropped stitches.

“This is…the best thing that has ever happened,” she said, eyes wide as he handed her project back to her. She gave him a soft, delighted smile. “You just saved me hours of work.”

_

It wasn’t…exactly the result of sharing his new skill that he’d been hoping for. But he did see her more often now.

“Hey Pietro,” she said, waltzing into the training gym one morning.

Steve caught him by the scruff of his neck in surprise and Pietro went sailing into the mats with an ‘oof!’

“Not the time, Darcy,” Steve said, folding his arms over his chest.

“Two inches of ribbing?” she asked him, ignoring the captain and smiling sweetly.

He had it finished before Steve had really worked up to his point in the lecture, and Darcy skipped out of the gym with a bright “Thanks!” over her shoulder.

And then there was movie night where she had whispered, “Twenty inches? Stockinette?”

And Tony had swiveled in his lazy-boy and stared right at him to ask, “Can someone turn their vibrator off?”

But she had curled up next to him when he had finished and that had certainly felt worth it.

_

“Hey Pietro,” Darcy said, finding him in the window seat in late afternoon. She had a wrapped box in her arms and she set it between them as she sat down.

“No knitting?” he asked. He was fairly sure he felt only a little relieved by this.

“Um no,” she said blushing. “Sorry about that. But…um…so there’s this thing. In knitting. It’s called…” she laughed and rolled her eyes. “Okay. It’s called the Curse of the Boyfriend Sweater. Basically, don’t knit your boyfriend a sweater or the relationship will end.”

“Sounds like a case of a stupid boyfriend,” he said, brow furrowing.

“Yes!” she said nodding. “It does. But, well, anyway, you aren’t my boyfriend and…and you did most of the work yourself sooooo…this is for you.”

Pietro had the box half ripped open before she finished speaking. It was a sweater. A lovely, soft, gray blue sweater. And, he was surprised to see, he had not done most of the work, despite her claim. There were pockets and a large cozy collar and buttons and it looked just on the comfortable size of too large for him.

“Does this…” he stalled and waited for the right words to come. “What if…I became your boyfriend?” he asked. “Would we be cursed?”

“No,” Darcy said firmly, with pink cheeks and a halfway smile that she was trying to bite away.

He reached up and plucked her bottom lip free, rubbing it gently with his thumb. “That was very clever of you,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “Pietro. You learned to knit as an excuse to talk to me. I’m gonna date the shit out of you, okay?”

He grinned. “Yes. Okay.”

[ragwitch]

First of all I love your writing so, so much. I hope that every time you have a doubt about your talent you think of the fact that I've reread the mermaid prompt you just wrote like FIVE TIMES and at least three were at work. Second, a prompt? Since you're still open to them maybe, if it tickles your fancy? Darcy/Bucky or Darcy/Steve (or hey I'd take all three): what these hands can do/Mr. or Ms. Fix-It

Thank you so, so, so much for this. It has been a weird week and I’ve been feeling funky through it and seeing this really brightened my mood

This fic went wildly awry from the prompt and I hope you forgive me/enjoy it all the same! (Most of these dates were rough guesses of mine for when things happened so if they aren’t right just blame time travel.)

Paring: Darcy Lewis/James Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

Rating: G 

“Darcy, you can’t,” Jane whispered, grabbing at her friend’s arm. She paused and then stared in the same direction Darcy’s eyes were fixed on. “Can you?”

“I dunno if I can fix it,” Darcy whispered, still staring at where Steve was ushering his skittish, solemn friend around the camp of hero outcasts Laura Barton had set up with them earlier in the spring. Bucky Barnes looked halfway between some poor abused animal just waiting to be struck, and an amnesiac. And the fact that neither of those were so far from the truth made Darcy’s heart ache.

“I don’t know if it will be perfect,” Darcy said. “But at least I can do something.”

“Is this even safe?” Jane asked.

“Umm no, Janie, it’s not safe,” Darcy said, huffing and finally turning to meet Jane’s eyes. She shrugged. “It’s time travel. I’m probably gonna mess a bunch of stuff up. But, I mean…ehnnnnn…I’ll fix that too. I just…I’m gonna do it, okay baiiiiii.”

Jane gasped and stumbled forward as Darcy vanished out of her hands. She looked up and there was Captain America and The Winter Soldier, gaping at her.

January 8th 1945, on a train over the Danube River

“Bucky, hang on! Bucky! Bucky NOOO!!”

Steve’s hands were grasping at air and there was a chorus of shouting. His own. Bucky’s. Something had gone still and dead in his chest. Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky.

“I just wanna say, I am so super sorry about this.”

He whipped around and there was a small, beautiful woman behind him. She was wearing glasses and odd, soft looking clothes and her hair was whipping in the air. She shrugged softly at him, sweet face scrunched with worry.

“Who-?” he started and then she kicked him, squarely in the gut and he slid out the open door of the train and into the frigid, empty air. A moment later, and what felt like miles of falling, his shield was spinning above him, following closely after.

March 4th 1945, on a plane over the Arctic

“Ahh!! You’re both still here, it worked!!”

Bucky spun and leveled his gun squarely into the face of the small, beautiful girl who was wearing glasses and the ugliest sweater he had ever seen.

“You!” Steve shouted, twisting in his seat as he tried to pilot the quickly failing plane.

“Who is she? Hydra? One of Peggy’s?” Bucky asked as the girl raised her arms sheepishly over her head.

“Ooohhh, you still have your arm!” she cooed, rising up on her tip toes and staring avidly at his left hand.

He shifted to block her view and tried not to find her so adorable or terrifying.

“She pushed me off the train after you,” Steve said.

“Hydra,” Bucky snarled. Adorable or not, he knocked a bullet into place on his gun.

“No, nononono,” she said, taking quick short steps back until he had her pressed between the nose of his weapon and the wall. She stared up at him with huge blue eyes and a trembling smile. “I’m not Hydra, I swear. I only wanted you guys to save each other. I figured you had a better chance of getting free of Hydra if he was with you. So I time traveled. And then, yeah, I pushed Captain America off a train car. But only with the best of intentions.”

His head was spinning. Steve had pulled him out of the water before Hydra arrived at the river. He had reset his arm. He had saved his life. If Steve hadn’t been there…

But he was and she couldn’t just take credit for it like she’d done them both a favor by kicking a man out of a train. Could she?

“Bucky,” Steve murmured as the girl chewed at her lip. “Shit. Bucky there’s nothing I can do. We can’t fly this plane to New York. Everyone there…”

“Aim for the ocean,” the girl said, throwing the words to Steve over Bucky’s shoulder. “That’s is….really everyone’s best option.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. Jesus, she was crazy. And they were crashing. And Steve was on the other side of this cockpit so what the hell was he bothering with her for?

“You looking forward to a long cold death, doll?” He asked, stepping back. Her shoulders eased as he lowered the gun, as if he couldn’t have killed her with a twist of his arm. It was some strange kind of innocence and it made his chest squeeze.

“Oh,” she frowned and shook her head, soft hair flicking over her shoulders. “No, sorry. I’m gonna skip that part.”

And then she just wavered and…vanished.

“Bucky,” Steve said, as the plane started to nose dive.

He blinked at the space where a girl had been a moment ago. A girl Steve had seen too, he wasn’t crazy. And then he turned and went to kiss the love his life before they crashed a plane into the bitter, unforgiving water.

April 3rd 2012, New York City

“Can’t believe we spent seventy years in ice to wake up to this,” Bucky’s voice growled in his ear and then there was a wet splat and a Chitauri warrior who had been sneaking up on Steve’s flank wilted to the ground, bullet hole square between his eyes.

“Thought you liked it exciting,” Steve said and Bucky huffed.

And then Steve heard, fuzzy and distant, “Ohmigod, yay!! Hi! You’re alive.”

“Jesus, it’s her,” Bucky said.

“Grab her!” Steve snapped, slamming his shield against another alien.

He wanted answers. He wanted to know what she knew. Why she had chosen them. Chosen Bucky.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he heard her over Bucky’s comm. “No, now, don’t get fresh, soldier! I just came to check on you. Make sure you made it through the ice!”

“Doll, you got a lotta explaining to do,” Bucky muttered.

She giggled and Steve nearly fell over his own feet at the bright sound, ringing over the roar of violence around him.

“That’s funny, you’re cute like this,” she said.

Oh Christ, they were flirting. Of course they were. He left Bucky alone for all of ten minutes after SHIELD resurrected them and he found a dame to chat up. All Steve managed to feel was light jealousy, that he wasn’t on the roof with them. Watching Bucky at his best kind of sparring. Seeing that pout of the girl’s again. Those hips. Something whizzed past his head and Steve shook the thoughts off, tried to focus on the city falling apart around them.

“I got her- shit! She just…I had her. She’s gone. She disappeared again.”

“Next time,” Steve said. And somehow he felt certain there would be a next time.

March 6th 2014, Washington D.C.

“Stevie, look at this,” Bucky whispered, pulling up the file on the holo-screen, and nudging it closer to Steve who was trying to nap next to him on their couch.

They were catching their first rest in weeks, back at Avengers Tower.

SHIELD had fallen, Hydra hadn’t died despite everything they’d been through. Their secrets were everywhere. And this secret too.

“It’s her,” Steve said, blinking at the picture and sitting up from the cushions. He read her name on the screen. “Darcy Lewis.”

Darcy Lewis. Political Science Degree. Associate of renowned astrophysicist Jane Foster. Affiliated with Thor. Red lips, blue eyes, gap-toothed grin. Prettier than Steve remembered, although he’d never really gotten a good look at her. Not like Bucky who had no qualms about bragging the fact.

“She’s real,” Bucky said, sounding surprised.

“Doesn’t say anything about the…you know…” Steve almost couldn’t say it. It was too ridiculous.

“Time travel,” Bucky said, with that awed and gleeful smile he got anytime someone showed him an especially innovative piece of technology.

Nerd, Steve thought fondly. “We could find her,” he suggested.

Bucky frowned at that, “I dunno, punk. In books…there are always rules. We might find her and she might not know what we’re talking about. If she hasn’t done it yet, we shouldn’t say anything to her about what she will do. She might not do it…But if she didn’t we wouldn’t be here so-”

“Okay,” Steve said, smirking and raising a hand. “I get it.” He didn’t, really. “We wait till next time.”

(There wasn’t a next time. Steve kept waiting through every disaster. Ultron, the Accords, the Avengers scattering apart to avoid detection, Tony playing the game with Ross to cover everyone’s tracks. Nothing. No sign of Darcy Lewis until…)

Now

“You made it!!”

Steve and Bucky had barely stepped foot onto Canadian soil when a small, beautiful, bouncing brunette ran up to them.

“You!” Bucky and Steve shouted together.

“Hi,” she said, and her grin was so wide it made even Bucky’s cheeks hurt. It flickered and then settled. “Umm…you’re not still mad about the train thing, are you?”

Steve stiffened at Bucky’s side and then gathered himself up to straighten and stare down at the girl. “I’m not mad,” he said, sober and even. “Just disappointed.”

Darcy Lewis broke out into cackling laughter. “Lulzzz, Captain America is a troll. What about you, Smooth Operator. You mad at me for not getting to keep that fancy metal arm of yours?”

Bucky blinked and turned to stare at Steve, who shrugged, equally clueless.

Darcy leaned in and raised her hand to the side of her lips to whisper to them. “It was sexy, but I don’t think you liked it very much.”

“I have a lot of questions,” Bucky said, frowning and trying to find some even footing in the conversation.

“Well I’d tell you to buy me dinner first, but we can’t go out to dinner around here,” she started, waving a hand behind her to where familiar faces were starting to appear out of little houses in the old ghost town.

“We’ll make you dinner,” Bucky said. They’d catch the damn animal and cook it if they had to. If it got this strange, lovely girl to sit down with them for a few minutes.

“Oh yeah?” Darcy asked, and there was pink on her cheeks and she started to shift in step, taking quick glances between the both of them.

“Yeah,” Steve said, grinning at Bucky and then at Darcy, that devastating wholesome smile that Bucky knew for a fact hid all sorts of wonderful sins.

“Well alright then,” she said, and the shyness that was starting to build in place of all her bravado had Bucky itching to chase her, tease her. “Janie!” she said brightening and greeting someone behind them.

There was another, smaller, brunette behind them. Jane Foster, Bucky remembered from the files.

“Look,” Darcy said, gesturing to the two men. “I did it! I fixed-it!”

Jane blinked and took a noisy slurp from her coffee mug. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Do you have my spectrometer?”

“Oh pffft, time travel,” Darcy muttered, flapping her hands at Jane who was already wandering away. She whispered up to Bucky conspiratorially, “You never get any credit for all the cool stuff you do cause nobody remembers how it was before it changed.”

“Tell us about it,” Bucky suggested, sliding a hand behind her shoulder. “We’ll believe you, right punk?”

Steve flanked Darcy on the other side. “Course we will.”

Darcy flustered between them and blushed again and Steve winked at him over the top of her head. “Well, maybe just parts,” she said, sort of leaning back and forth between them. “It’s a sad story, and anyways it’s all this way now.”

[ragwitch]

Darcy/Johnny/Bucky. Soul Mark AU.

Nix, my lady, my babe, I hope you enjoy this!

Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Johnny Storm/James ‘Bucky’ Barnes

Rating: T

They told him he had no soul. And his skin was clean (all but the scars that ran around his left shoulder where they’d made him into a machine) so he believed them.

So when the bonfire boy with the startling blue eyes had said to him—in the middle of a battle field, in the middle of the city, in the middle of the day—

“Well, hello there, beautiful. Would you like my number?”

And the feeling of flames spread down his left hip, licking and biting at his skin, he assumed they were real flames. And he threw the other man across the square and returned to his mission.

It wasn’t until they’d herded him back into the base, and stripped him for maintenance, that he saw the blue trace of fire down his skin and the spikey, twiggy words of invitation.

They wiped him and threw him in the cryofreezer.

But no matter how many times they told him he was a machine, he was their weapon to wield, he was nothing…

They silly words were on his skin, framed by blue fire.

He had a soul.

_

Darcy was sweating it out on the dance floor of some too loud, too crowded, too pricey club. But, fuck it! She finally had her damn degree. Now she could stare down the fathomless maw of student debt and limited job prospects like everyone else. Time to celebrate!

By herself.

With a bunch of strangers.

Cause Jane was definitely still in the lab, waist deep in theories, probably still sounding them out as if Darcy was in the room.

She couldn’t even be mad about it, really.

There was a body behind hers, like a heater inside of an already too hot club. And she was absolutely ready to turn around and tell them to politely back up to the next available booty cause she was really just here for the cardio.

Except she didn’t. She turned and he slotted them together, legs fitting into place like puzzle pieces, and she was staring up at muscles, and wicked blue eyes, and a suggestive smirk that was barely concealing a childlike grin of delight.

“You look like somebody who could take me home and keep me in bed for days,” Darcy said, blinking in surprise.  She added, “In a not creepy way.”

He stiffened in front of her, eyes puzzled, and a hand came up to settle over his chest.

He spoke and she watched his lips make the words, but there was no hearing him over the bass. It didn’t matter. A ring of spikey, sharp heat circled her hips, stirring up shock and arousal all at once.

They stood stock still on the dance floor, staring at one another. And then she took his hand and led him out of the club and into a cab. They went to her apartment and stayed in bed for days.

She explained that the geometric pattern that was now covering his chest was bits of circuitry she doodled when nervous and he explained why the words floating in the blue flames under her belly read, “I don’t know what you said but I promise to be good if you don’t run away like the last one.”

_

Darcy was eating Clint’s cheerios in the common room when Steve brought Bucky Barnes into the Tower for the first time. (After the de-conditioning and the early rounds of therapy and a long, quiet vacation in Canada while The Winter Soldier could be quietly brushed away from the public conscious and replaced with the POW and War Hero.) She froze behind the counter, debating on whether or not to sink down out of sight, or scurry from the room while they were turned the other way.

This was the guy. This was the guy.

It hadn’t been hard to figure out from Johnny’s description of him. Not after Hydra had burst forth from SHIELD like an Alien baby out of Sigourney Weaver.

Johnny’s other soulmate was James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier.

Tall and wide, wider than Johnny, with dark hair and icy sharp eyes. He had a beard growing in that Darcy badly wanted to scratch her fingers into. And while she’d always imagined him in the terrifying leather get up she’d seen blurry photos of, he was standing by the windows in jeans and a heavy sweater. Looking like any other outrageously handsome guy might, aside from the silver fingers peeking out from his long sleeve.

He was glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and Darcy could feel the blood rushing into her cheeks.

She needed to call Johnny. She needed to get out of here. She needed to know if she was part of a closed circuit or if she and this stranger were two links connecting to Johnny. (It was alright if they were, Johnny was near to bursting with love and Darcy knew she would never be an afterthought to him.)

So she put the box of cereal back on the shelf and made ready to escape.

Steve and Bucky were standing in her way, blocking her exit around the island.

“Buck, this is Darcy Lewis, she works mostly with Jane and Tony in the labs but she’s a bit of a jack of all trades really. Darcy this is my friend, James Barnes.”

“’S good to finally see a pretty face after months with this punk,” Bucky said to her.

The words were rusty, his tongue nearly tripping over them, and his expression was a little panicked as he spoke. But there were flurries around her chest, snowflakes kissing at the skin of her breasts and then warming like coals running across her ribs to her back. She gaped at him, at the tan calloused hand he had extended to her, and her own rose to meet his.

“Oh,” she said, and his hand twitched in hers. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and a smile was stretching so fast across her face it hurt her cheeks. “We’re all gonna be really happy, just so you know.”

Little lines and connections and branches grew out from under his sleeve down to his fingertips. He blinked at her and Steve stared between them, eyes wide.

“Do you know…?” Bucky’s metal hand traced over his hip and Darcy had to bite her lip to keep her face from cracking apart.

“Yeah,” she said.

He stepped up close to her, released her hand to wipe away the twin tears that had spilled over onto her cheeks.

“I’ll introduce you,” she told him.

_

Johnny let himself into Darcy’s apartment, hefting up the bag of groceries and wine and stepping inside. There was music playing and he could hear her speaking in the kitchen, a low and mellow voice answering her. His chest squeezed hard. (He’d heard about the news in the Tower. But this was just dinner with Darcy and he could settle down and not put those anxious hopes on his date with his girl.)

“Darce?”

There was a little squeak of excitement and then sock-feet skidding across her floor boards as she ran in from the kitchen to greet him. She pulled the groceries out of his hold and bounced up into his arms for a kiss.

“Hey, cutie,” he said, laughing.

She was giddy and his heart was beating too fast.

“Hi!” she said, beaming. “I’ve got somebody here to meet you so…yeah, come on. I have no chill!”

She had his hand in hers and was yanking him to the kitchen, and he couldn’t find his feet underneath him.

Darcy squeezed his hand once once in the doorway to the kitchen and then pushed him ahead of her. His other soulmate was standing against the counter. If Johnny had passed him on the street he might not have recognized this cozy, smiling, bearded babe for the sooty eyed warrior he’d flirted with in the middle of new york city ten years ago. Everything inside of him was spinning like a merry go round on a playground, some invisible hand pushing it faster, faster, faster, until he thought it might take off out of his skin altogether. He was probably too close to starting yet another kitchen fire in Darcy’s apartment.

“Hey good lookin’,” the other man said, grin wobbling anxiously. “Can I still get that number?”

Ice landed on his shoulders, melting in curling rivulets down Johnny’s back until it pooled at the base of his spine, warm and twisting.

He laughed, the nerves and panic and joy falling out of him with the sound.

_

A month or so later

Johnny was dozing on his stomach while Bucky and Darcy traced the frost and currents of patterns on his back, the words that lined down his spine.

“Just remembered,” Bucky said, and Johnny peeked one drowsy eye open. “These melting patterns ain’t snow. This is the old city subway system.”

“Our bridge and tunnel boy,” Darcy murmured and Johnny smiled, hearing their kiss.

Darcy shifted, worming her way from draped over them to snuggled betweean them. Bucky wiggled to make room for her but Johnny just hid his grin in his pillow and let her work for it. There was nothing he didn’t love about the feeling of a naked Darcy squirming against him.

“Does this mean I’ve got the G train somewhere on me,” he asked, frowning.

Darcy snorted but Bucky just traced his finger over one of Johnny’s ribs. “Yeah, right here.”

“What’ve I got?” Darcy asked, elbowing Johnny so she could spread out for Bucky’s perusal.

“Hmmmm…”

Johnny could hear the wet sounds of kisses landing against skin. These crazy fuckers weren’t gonna let him get any rest were they? (He loved it.)

“Here’s the Sea Beach Line…” Darcy hummed and wiggled next to him. “And here’s the Brighton…”

Johnny rolled to his side and sat up, watching Bucky lick across a diagonal line that followed Darcy’s shoulder blade. He glanced up at Johnny and grinned, leaning across Darcy’s back to kiss him. Johnny could taste the salt from her skin and faint traces of himself from earlier.

He could rest later.

[ragwitch]

Prompt: darcy x bucky, darcy has a pet bilgesnipe. congrats again

Thank you darling!! One bilgesnipe coming right up! 

Pairing: Darcy Lewis/James Bucky Barnes

Rating: G 

Bucky had just reached that beautiful tipping point where Darcy was on up on her toes, body rubbing against him and neck arching back to be kissed. She was making those perfect wordless whimpering noises and in just another second he would ask if she wanted to go inside and…  

And then something behind her front door whomped, and she froze.

“Get behind me, doll,” he said, trying to spin them on her front stoop so he was blocking her from whatever was moving in her apartment.

“Wait no, it’s- it’s fine, Bucky!” She spun them again and they ran into the opposite side of the door with a pair of “oofs!”

There was another WHOMP behind the door, this one heavier, and then a grinding scratch and a growl so deep it made the stoop quake beneath them.

“Wallace, no!” Darcy hissed through the door. There was a whine like the squeal of tires and Darcy looked up to him, face scrunching. “Sorry.”

Bucky blurted out a laugh and shook his head, heart slowing as the panic eased. “You got a dog or something?”

Darcy chewed at her bottom lip, glancing nervously at the door that was emitting softer whump whump whump sounds like a tail beating at the floor.

“Or something,” she said. “I was…I was gonna tell you about him. And like show you cute pics and videos and stuff before you met him. But…I mean, you’re a really good kisser and-”

Bucky grinned and bent, nipping at her lips until they were tangled up again, Darcy’s arms so tightly wound around his neck that he thought she might be dangling from there. So he lifted her up against him, their hips pressing tightly together. She moaned in his ear. Wallace scratched again. They groaned and pulled apart.

“You better come in and meet him or he’ll just hunt your trail back to the tower when I take him for a walk later,” Darcy said with a sigh.

It wasn’t exactly the invite in he’d been dreaming of but he liked animals and at least that meant the goodnight kiss wasn’t entirely over. Darcy unlocked her door and then glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Lemme go in first, settle him down a little,” Darcy said.

Bucky was about to roll his eyes, say that he knew how to respond to and respect a ruffled wild animal, let alone a house pet, but she squirmed through the open door and then it snapped shut in his face.

“Hey, heyyy buddy, hi!”

He smiled at the sugared tone in her voice and huffed at the shut door. She had said it wasn’t a dog. He frowned and wondered what was waiting on the other side. She wasn’t one of those people keeping a rare wild animal in the middle of the city, was she? But they’d been on a few official dates, and even more unofficial ones around the Tower and she’d never once mentioned a pet. She was definitely acting like it was a secret.

“Yes, I know, I missed you too,” she cooed inside. Bucky could hear heavy excited breathing in response. “Do you like this smell? Yeah? That’s my friend’s. You wanna meet him? You wanna meet him? Yes, you’re a good boy. Okay, Bucky.”

Bucky only got as far as the doorway, door hanging open, once he saw the beast standing in Darcy’s spacious entry hall.

“Close the door please,” she prompted gently.

He managed it with automatic, jerky movements, and didn’t so much as flick his eyes away from the animal. Darcy was standing, facing him, in front of a creature that looked like a cross between a rhinoceros, reindeer, and shark. She had her hands raised above her head, rubbing gently on the leathery hide of the animal who looked dangerously close to drooling on her head. Drool the color of acid.

“That’s…You…You named him…Wallace?” Bucky asked when he could finally managed words.

Darcy huffed and smiled up into the toothy maw of the beast, who cocked it’s head at Bucky and panted happily.

“Yeah,” she said, voice gentle and fond. “His whole family was killed by a hunting party on Asgaard and I stopped them from getting him too. And then we bonded and Thor said he’d probably need me to take care of him until he was fully grown. Bilgesnipe have very strong ties to their mothers.”

That did not answer the question of his name.

Bucky blinked. “Is he…not fully grown yet?” Because the antlers were nearly brushing the ceiling.

“Few more years,” Darcy said. “Can’t even imagine sending him back though.”

“Did you say you took him on walks?” Bucky asked, trying to wrap his mind around that idea. Did Wallace wear a leash? What did she do with his…waste?

“Very, very late at night,” Darcy confirmed. “Thor got us a permit actually but for the most part we’ve got a quiet route figured out. Do you wanna pet him?”

He did not. But Wallace was thumping a mossy green tufted tail on the floor and Darcy was smiling hopefully. So he walked up to Darcy and the bilgesnipe and reached up a hand—the indestructible one—to scratch at his massive wrinkled chin. One heavy, clawed, paw vibrated against the floor and Wallace rumbled, eyes slitting in pleasure.

Bucky snorted and then grinned as Darcy beamed up at him. “Okay,” he said. “He’s kinda cute.”

“He likes you,” she said, bouncing up on her toes to kiss Bucky’s jaw. He wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her close and she added, “He has good taste.”

[ragwitch]

Oh my goodness happy milestone!! If you’re still doing prompts I’d like to request Peter Quill/ Darcy, childhood frenemies meet again (smut is okay)

This is like a brotp for me with a side of mutual confused attraction and I’ve never written it before so that was super fun, thank you!

Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Peter Quill

Rating: G

“Ugghhhhhhh, Lewissss.”

Darcy stopped in her tracks at the hiss of her name, a familiar exclamation on a foreign voice. She turned in step and stared up at the man who was leaning against one of the small flight pods that had landed on the ground in the midst of the battle. He was handsome, with a horribly cocky smile, and a hideous red leather coat that belonged back in space and…

Oh. She knew those eyes.

“UGHHHHH QUILL,” she groaned at the top of her lungs, grinning openly as the rest of the remaining heroes all turned and raised their eyebrows at the pair of them.

Peter Quill, school yard arch-nemesis and general comic book fanboy (who had always insisted that she couldn’t be Superman’s biggest fan because he was and she was a girl) turned red and huffed up out of his leaning position.

“Dude,” he hissed.

“Are you joking right now?” Darcy asked. “Seriously? You have been living in space this whole time? As what?”

“A grifter,” Peter said, shrugging his shoulder, pulling his smirk back up his lips.

“A thrifter?” Darcy echoed. She heard him. This was just more fun. “Like you go to space thrift shops, and-”

“A grifter,” Peter said, loud and sharp. He shrunk and groaned behind his teeth as everyone around them turned to frown and stare again. Captain America looked especially��well Darcy wasn’t sure what that face meant. Disappointment, treason, indigestion. Who really knew?

“Oh,” Darcy said nodding. She added, “I maybe wouldn’t go around shouting that.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed and she tried not to smile. “Geez louise, Lewis, I disappeared off the face of the planet for like twenty years. I was a milk carton kid…I was, wasn’t I?” Darcy sighed heavily and nodded so he continued, “Aren’t you gonna say, like…’glad you aren’t dead in a ditch somewhere’? Or something?”

“I always just assumed you Huckleberry Finn’d it out of town,” Darcy said, shrugging.

Peter’s nose crinkled and she couldn’t help but feel annoyed that scrawny Peter Quill had grown up so…hot.

“I guess I kinda did,” he said. “But on a spaceship instead of a river raft.”

“That’s super weird, dude,” she said.

“No! It’s…I mean, it’s kind of cool, right?” he asked.

“No, it’s weird,” she insisted. She probably should have been somewhere else, doing something useful. But the world had just not ended and winding Peter Quill up was—despite the twenty year hiatus—still her favorite way of winding down.

“I’ll have you know that I am one of the Guardians of the Galaxy,” he said, walking closer to her with a finger pointed in her face.

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. Because, nope. “No you aren’t. I revoke that title.”

“You can’t revoke- it’s not like you can just…Can you?” he asked, suddenly puzzled.

“I just did,” she said and she would kiss Natasha later square on the mouth for teaching her how to keep a straight face.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I’m the liaison between earth and the Asgardian consulate,” Darcy said. She would also kiss Thor square on the mouth later for giving her that position. Well, maybe not cause it was complicated between him and Jane at the moment and she didn’t wanna get all up in that.

“Oh shit,” Peter murmured, eyes growing huge. “How the hell did you get that job?”

“I make Thor pop-tarts,” she said breezily, turning and waving him along after her. “Come on, Quillian, I’ve got a lifetime’s worth of comics to lord over you.”

“Hey! Have you ever heard of a Zune?” Peter asked, waving the saddest little mp3 player she had ever seen in front of her face.

“Oh my god, you are a thrifter!” she shouted and burst into laughter.

[ragwitch]

Congratulations! If you’re still doing prompts I’d love some Darcy/Tony, Darcy hacking Jarvis to troll Tony.

Can do!!

Pairing: Tony Stark/Darcy Lewis

Rating: T

He is ashamed to admit that it takes him until the chorus to realize what’s happening. He was genius-ing. That’s his excuse.

“There is no fear now, let go and just be free…I will love you unconditionally…”

“Jarvis,” Tony said, pausing with soldering iron in hand. “This is…what is this?”

“Katy Perry’s romantic power ballad Unconditionally,” Jarvis said as the singer wailed in the background.

“Katy Perry is unacceptable work music. Please…never do this again.”

“I’ve received strict instructions as to your care and entertainment for the following sixty-four hours,” Jarvis said.

“No,” Tony said shaking his head. “No you haven’t. I give you instructions. Who gave you instructions?”

There was a pause and then Jarvis bit out sheepishly, “She who must not be missed.”

Tony gritted his teeth and sighed, bending back to work.

_

“But I want a burger and onion rings,” Tony said, staring down at the medley of grains and roasted vegetables inside of his delivery carton.

“This is…impossible,” Jarvis said.

It wouldn’t have been impossible if he had gone out and got them himself, Tony figured. But he appreciated her not rubbing his dependence in too deeply via his AI.

“Jarvis, buddy, this is…it’s just not fair,” Tony said, arms flapping in protest.

“Sir, I’ve been instructed to inform you if you are behaving…petulantly,” Jarvis said.

Tony stared at the food for a long moment before finally picking up his fork.

_

“Oh for fucks sake,” Tony said, scrubbing his hand over his face and staring down at the glitter bombed steaming (pink) bath water waiting for him. “No.” He walked over to the shower and yanked hard on the handles for hot water.

But nothing happened. The handle turned and the water was missing.

“Jarvis,” he said, trying to keep the slightly pathetic note out of his voice.

“It’s…bath time…sir,” Jarvis said piteously.

“We’ll have our revenge, Jarvis. I promise,” Tony muttered, peeling off his t-shirt.

“Thank you, sir,” Jarvis said.

_

Tony squinted in the dark and rolled over to the source of the pale light behind him.

A hologram Darcy lay spread out across the top of his sheets in a pair of pajamas he bought himself but never wore. Only the tips of her toes were peeking out of the legs and her hands were folded away entirely in the sleeves.

“You’re a menace,” he said, voice hoarse with evasive sleep.

“Did you miss me?” she asked, grinning, propping her chin on her plaid clad arms.

“Very clever evil-plan, young lady. Harass me at a distance to ensure I survive without your company.” Yes, he missed her.

“How’s Jarvis?”

“He’ll need therapy because of you,” he said.

“Ha, faker!” she scoffed. “Half of it was his suggestion.”

“How much longer should I expect this torture to go on?” He raised an eyebrow and Darcy reached out one intangible hand from the depths of her sleeve to trace over it.

“Maybe just through your very nutritious lunch tomorrow,” she said. “We’re finishing up early and I should be home by the evening.”

He tried not to smile so wide at this answer but she was beaming back at him so it was a losing battle.

“Hey,” she said, face lighting up. “You ever fuck a hologram before?”

“Not one in plaid pajamas,” he said. And he pushed the blankets down past his hips to reveal his naked, glitter bombed body.

[ragwitch]

Ooooo, I'm so excited for your milestone! If you please, Logan/Darcy, bath bubbles. Smut ok. You're the best!

I didn’t make it to smut but I hope you still like it! If you squint this could be later on in the Birds and Bees verse but it really doesn’t need the context. 

Pairing: Darcy Lewis/Logan (Wolverine)

Rating: T

“Darce, you coulda joined me,” Logan said, stepping out of the shower (dripping all over her tiles even though the mat was right there two feet over) and staring at the bubble bath that was filling up her tub.

She raised her right eyebrow at him. “This isn’t for me. Well not just for me.”

He wrinkled his nose at the tub, or more likely the bubbles. “I just showered.”

“Bubble baths aren’t for getting clean, they’re for relaxing,” Darcy argued. “And anyway there was no way I was letting you fill up a tub full of water with all that grease and blood and soot you had on you. Now get your ass in the tub.”

Logan stood there, naked (and dripping on her floor), studying her for a long minute. “You gonna wash my back?” he asked, grinning.

“I am yeah,” she said, because he was teasing and she was not. “And if the Professor or anyone calls for the next twenty-four hours I am going to tell them to ‘fuck off and see you on Tuesday.’”

“Darce,” Logan huffed.

“Logan, get in the tub.”

His eyebrows bounced up at her tone but he was crossing past her and brushing at the bubbles on the surface of the water like he could make them move to their side of the tub while he sat in his own, more manly, side.

“No candles,” he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes but she was turning to grab a clean washcloth so at least he couldn’t see it.

“‘M alright, you know?” he said, watching her as she sat on the ledge and dipped the cloth in the water. He leaned forward and Darcy ran it down his spine. “No scratches,” he teased. “Don’t gotta nurse me.”

Right. Because with all that blood he’d been covered in, she was supposed to believe none of it was his. Like she didn’t know he had waited long enough to heal before coming home.

“Has it occurred to you that this is as much for me, as it is for you?” she asked, quiet. She could feel his eyes on her face, watching her over his shoulder as she stroked his back with the wet fabric, finding the faint pink mark of a scratch, Logan, you lying idiot. To be fair, he probably didn’t even know about that one.

“Know what would make me feel good, right now?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“Having you cozied up to me in these damn bubbles.”

She snorted and ignored him for a moment, washing at his shoulders. But he kept staring at her.

“Alright,” she said. She handed him the washcloth and stood up, stripping efficiently.

He’d moved to the far side of the tub by the time she was finished. She stepped into the warm water and fitted herself along his side, their bodies over-lapping and his arms going around her waist.

“‘M alright,” he repeated into her hair.

“I know,” she said. In all likelihood, Logan would always be alright. But that didn’t mean she liked seeing the evidence of exactly how much abuse he could take.

“I…do like when you take care of me,” he said. She tried not to laugh at the way the words seemed to cost him. “But I prefer takin’ care of you.”

His hand slid lower on her belly and she raised her arms to loop behind his neck. She wasn’t quite there yet, still a little jittery from watching him walk into their apartment looking like a crash scene. But Logan had a surprising tendency to work her up so slow and gentle so that she barely noticed the transition between lazy-calm-comfort to aching-need.

She found the washcloth floating under the bubbles and lifted it to wash down his arms.

“Kinda hope Charles calls,” Logan said and she twisted to show him her frown. “Just wanna hear you go off on him. He still thinks you’re all cute.”

“I am cute,” she said, snapping her teeth on his chin.

“Cutest little wasp in the beehive,” Logan agreed, grinning.

[ragwitch]

Sweet Heat

for @typhoidmeri 

Alpha/Omega verse and all the pretty things for you! <3

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers

Rating: G

The smell of dense, fudgy brownies was clinging to every surface of the suite, filtering out from the bedroom where Darcy was settling post-heat.

Wanda had managed to replicate the scent in a pan that was now coming hot out of the oven. She bent to soak up the heat and rich smell and it added a second layer of hunger and craving to her thoughts. Something a little more concrete than the hindbrain itching of the last few days, the wishing and wondering about Darcy’s invitation to join her and Steve. She had been finding strange excuses to wander past their door and when Steve finally called to let her know that things were winding down, and ask if she wanted to rest with them, she was only down the hall.

She hadn’t really known what to do with herself when he’d answered the door, shirtless with mussed hair and swollen lips, smelling like a truffle shop. He’d squeezed her hand and then stepped back to give her space to make her own entrance.

“We’ll be in the bedroom, but take your time and come in whenever you’re ready. I’m just grabbing some waters.”

She’d chugged a solid three glasses of water herself after the bedroom door had eased shut. Steve looked like he hadn’t slept in three days and their apartment smelled like some kind of confectionary version of a brothel. (They wanted her? What did they need her for??)

The baking had helped, added some order to the chaos of insecurity and unfamiliar need and curiosity and desire and craving and anxiety and…

She shut the oven door, turned the brownies out onto a rack to cool and made some white icing. (Darcy had a baker’s kitchen and it had been her own way of courting Wanda at the beginning, teaching her recipes, feeding her sweets, giving her a safe corner of the home she shared with Steve.) There was a murmur of voices from the bedroom as she cut big squares, icing melting over the edges. There was a stash of Darcy’s favorite gelato in the freezer and raspberry jam in the fridge they had made over the summer, so Wanda filled three bowls with layers of dessert and grabbed spoons.

She carried the tray of sundaes to the bedroom door and peeked inside. The curtains were shut and candlelight had turned the room rosy and warm. She was about to tap softly with her knuckle when Darcy spoke.

“I’ve been very patient, waiting to come steal those brownies.”

Wanda let herself in and stopped still in the doorway.

“She’s fibbing,” Steve said. “She tried to get me to go out and sneak her a taste of the batter as soon as you started.”

They were curled up in the bed, a massive mattress in the corner by the window with a barrier of mismatched pillows and velvet soft blankets surrounding them. Darcy was in a slippery looking pair of gray blue pajamas and was leaning back into Steve’s chest like he was her personal lazy-boy. And the room felt like she was walking into hot chocolate, thick and heavy enough to make her mouth water.

“Dude, open a window, she’s drowning,” Darcy whispered, leaning back into Steve.

“I’m not!” Wanda said quickly, although her whole body felt flush. “I’m fine, may I?” she asked, nodding to the bed. She didn’t really want the warmth of their nest running out an open window. She’d much rather wallow in it.

Darcy patted at the open spot next to Steve. She took the tray from Wanda as she started to climb over the mass of bedding—oh it was all so soft, she had never had a nest like this. She wanted Darcy to help her build her own. She wanted to build one with Darcy even more.

“Look at the yummy,” Darcy said slowly, gazing wide-eyed into her bowl. Steve took one for himself off the tray and set it down gently on top of Darcy’s head like his own little table. “Oh, ha ha, very funny, Rogers. Mmmm, Wanda these are better than mine. No fair. But thank you.”

She twisted against Steve just as Wanda managed to fold herself up next to them. There was raspberry jam already on Darcy’s lips and she looked so soft and rumpled and happy and Wanda hadn’t seen in her in three days so she just…kissed her. Darcy purred and softened into the kiss and Steve brushed gently at Wanda’s back.

“Missed you, wish you could have been here,” Darcy mumbled as she leaned away. Then she blinked, “I mean. Sorry, not that I-”

Wanda smiled and leaned across Darcy to take her own sundae bowl, kissing the other woman’s cheek as she drew back. “I missed you too. I think I’d like to be with you next time.” Then she leaned back into Steve’s shoulder and pressed another kiss to the side of his jaw, which was hanging loose. But his arm quickly wrapped around her and settled them altogether, Darcy twisting to the side so all of their legs were brushing.

“You mean that?” she asked, grinning with a little brownie on her front tooth so that Wanda had to fight back a laugh as she grinned in return.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, nuzzling into the top of her head.

“Yeah,” she said, trying not to squirm. Was she impatient already? “I wanna stay on the heat suppressants a little longer, if that’s alright-”

“Anything’s alright!” Darcy said quickly.

“-But I would really like to be with you both,” Wanda finished, and took a large bite of gelato and jam as if it could cool away the thoughts of joining them here for Darcy’s next heat. For the touches, the kisses, watching their bond on such an intimate level. They had discussed the idea in the past, a further step for Wanda to feel safe with Steve, watching him with Darcy.

Darcy always stated firmly that she had never felt more respected, cherished, or satisfied with any other partner than her Alpha. And Wanda saw that between them every day in the way Steve seemed to orient the rest of the room around Darcy, the way he had started to do it with her, how he listened with his entire focus. Darcy hadn’t seemed driven to please her Alpha the way Wanda had seen some Omegas—the way they had tried to make her. Steve seemed drawn to her because Darcy was the fastest to make him laugh, make him rest, make him take a breath for himself. A perfect fit for each other.

And she had thought at first that her value to Steve was Darcy’s interest in her.

(“I’m only hanging back until I know you want me there,” he’d said when she’d finally forced herself to ask him if he wanted her to pull herself out of Darcy’s gravitational orbit.

“If you want me there,” he had added. She’d seen it then, that big blue-eyed hope. He was waiting for permission to court her. So she gave it. Because she wanted him there. She wasn’t ready to lean into him the way Darcy did. Some days she wasn’t even ready to look up to him the way the rest of the team did.

“I don’t mind someone telling me I’m wrong,” he insisted, after she had and then panicked over it. “Well…I don’t mind most people,” he added grinning. “‘Cept Tony, if he asks.”)

“Our door is always open to you,” Steve said.

“My oven is always open to you, ohmigod,” Darcy moaned, taking another bite of her sundae. “Steve, if you are letting that melt, I will make you share it with me.”

“The brownie is warm,” Steve protested and quickly stuffed an extra large bite into his mouth.

“I brought pajamas,” Wanda said, studying her bowl with an unnecessary concentration.

Darcy squealed and kicked her legs playfully against Wanda’s. “Yes, yes, yes! I want cuddles. I wanna be the ice cream filling in the sandwich. Will you please braid my hair though because Steve thinks he’s funny and he just ties knots.”

“It’s contemporary,” Steve said and started to twirl a lock of Darcy’s hair around a finger catching Wanda’s eye with a wicked glint.

Darcy rolled her eyes and Wanda leaned in tighter, setting her chin on Darcy’s shoulder. “We will train him,” she whispered in Darcy’s ear and then nipped at the corner of her jaw as the other woman giggled and Steve’s warm fingers pinched her waist.

[ragwitch]

For @burtnee11

 I love your work! If you're still taking prompts I would love. Darcy/Bucky Cutting edge/Winter Olympics inspired piece. Bonus if Bucky is a hockey player.

I’m a little clueless about all of these sports, LOL! But I hope you enjoy, thank you! <3

Pairing: James ‘Bucky’ Barnes/Darcy Lewis

Rating: G

“Have you been skating in snow shoes, Barnes?” Darcy snapped, yanking herself out of his arms and pinning the ice with her toe. “What the hell? Where’s your form?”

“My form has been buried under 15 pounds padding for ten years, not,” he waved his hands in her general direction.

“If you’re about to estimate my weight, I’m gonna stop you right there,” she growled.

“…Assisting a perfectly shaped but very mobile woman. You move around and I dunno which way you’re going and we are skating on ice. I’m just trying to keep us from falling over, doll,” he said.

She stared at him for a long moment, eyes narrowing, and Bucky wracked his brains trying to find whatever inadvertent insult he might have let slip into his words.

“Did you hit your head on that last fall?” she asked. “I think you complimented me.”

Bucky let his eyes rove slowly over her. If she was letting him, he’d take the opportunity. “There’s plenty to compliment,” he said and she started to preen so he added, “But it don’t make you easier to work with.”

Shit. Her lips were turning white for how hard she pressed them together. Bucky stared down at the tracks in the ice and braced himself for the backlash. Another five thousand words on how clumsy he was, how oafish his strides were, how he lumbered down the ice like a mammoth instead of imitating her slippery, sinuous movements.

“This is my last chance,” she hissed. Bucky looked up and saw her blinking watery eyes. “I am twenty five years old, the chances of me keeping my spot on the team in another four years are essentially nothing. I need this, Barnes. Or else what the hell have I been doing?”

“Hey,” Bucky said slowly, taking careful mincing strides closer to her just in case the venom reappeared and she felt the need to knock him flat on his ass. He wasn’t wearing any padding in this get-up, that was for sure. “Hey. You’re a phenomenal skater,” he said, and risked having his finger bitten off just to chuck it under her chin and lift her face to meet his eyes. “Medals don’t change that.”

She winced at him. “They kind of do.”

“I swear, I’m thiiis close to landing a quad,” he said, grinning. Because he wasn’t even thaaat close to landing a triple.

She rolled her eyes and one of the tears slipped out. And she didn’t even knee him in the groin for swiping it away off her cheek. “You’re right about one thing,” she said.

“What’s that?” he asked, automatic, because they were really close now and she was damn beautiful when she was thinking and not sniping at him.

“You’re shit at lifts and holds,” she said, biting her lip thoughtfully.

He let it slide cause he was busy staring at the plush of that bottom lip. The little red worry marks at the corner where she would chew and fret while she stared at him with that hopeless furrow between her eyebrows.

“We should practice on mats,” she said, nodding once. Mind made up, that’s an order, soldier.

“Mats…not on ice?” he asked, hopeful.

“Definitely not ice,” she laughed, stealing his hand off where it had been testing out the smooth texture of her neck. “How do you feel about an afternoon of carrying me around, Barnes?”

“I feel great about that,” he said. And he wasn’t even lying.

[ragwitch]

Follower Milestone Prompt Party!

I just finished the (rough) writing of Command The Moon It Will Come Down!! It’s the longest fanfiction I have ever written. It also had me inspirationally tapped for awhile and I had to let a follower milestone go by until I was ready to go again. But it is wrapping up and…

MY FINGERS ARE ITCHING NOW.

So following friends! Prompt me.

Like this post, be my follower, and send a Darcyland pairing and prompt to my –> ask box <– from now until February 13th and I will write you (at least) 250 words! One prompt per person.

I will accept the first 50 prompts I get. (If I get 50 prompts, cause I dunno, but hey! we’ll see.)

Please keep your prompts fairly simple and let me know if you don't want smut. (Think word, trope, song, etc. Rather than an epic plot driven prompt I won’t be able to do justice to in the small word count. Also I can't guarantee smut but if you don't want it I wouldn't want to throw naked people at you unexpectedly.)

Thank you so much for all your support. I know this is a small bit of gratitude to show but it’s a start and I can’t figure out to send squishy hugs through the interwebs yet.

So let me write you a thing!