Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Relationship: Established OT3 Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers/James "Bucky" Barnes

For Darcy Lewis Smut Week on tumblr for Monday's prompt, 'dessert' (but as usual the prompt has very little to do with the story!)

Originally written for the Going on Facebook Darcy Lewis fic exchange on livejournal. The prompt included things like: Darcy has a bad relationship with her mother, Starbucks coffee, raspberries.

"Borg? Sounds Swedish."

- Star Trek: First Contact

Darcy's mother is disappointed in her. Horrified, and disappointed, but that's nothing new. In fact, it's been the default setting for a while now. It used to be confined to specific events—the time Darcy was caught smoking at 14, the gay rights rally she attended at 17, the ankle tattoo she got at 19, the abortion she had at 20—but these days it's the status quo.

Even before Darcy unlocks the door to the Upper East Side apartment, she can hear the muffled sounds of the TV coming from within. She turns the handle and takes a step inside, but just one step, because the sight that greets her deserves a moment's appreciation.

The living room is off to the left, and from this vantage point she can see them, but they haven't spotted her yet. They're chilling out on the couch, watching The Brady Bunch of all things, bless them.

Bucky's arm rests along the back of the couch. It's not actually around Steve's shoulders, but it's a near thing. Bucky is in his cargo pants, Steve in his sweat pants, and they're both naked from the waist up, of which Darcy approves.

Bucky almost seems to have trouble keeping a shirt on inside the apartment, but a shirtless Steve outside of the bedroom or bathroom is rare sight. She can guess how it came off, too, and a coil of warmth unfurls low in her belly at the thought of Bucky dragging it over Steve's head for him. She doesn't need to guess how they've spent their afternoon off.

Steve says something Darcy doesn't catch, and Bucky chuckles, drawing him in a little closer to plant an easy kiss on his temple. Something in Darcy's chest both blooms and contracts at the same time. They're so adorable it's almost painful.

Watching them is nice, but being with them is better, so she shuts the front door behind her and drops her bag on the floor. They both turn towards the sound.

Bucky's face splits into a grin. "Hey, doll."

Steve smiles too, and it's not as easy or wide as Bucky's, because it never is, but somehow that just makes it all the more precious.

"Hey," she grins back at them, walking over and perching on the arm rest next to Bucky. He slides a hand down her thigh and squeezes lightly just above her knee.

"Heard your mission went well this morning," she says, "catching that crazy Swedish scientist guy."

"Professor Borg?" says Steve. "Yeah, he went down without too much of a fight."

"Borg?" Darcy repeats with a smirk. "You know the guy probably just wants his arm back, right?" she says, patting the cybernetic hand on her leg.

Steve and Bucky share a look that says, 'do you know what she's saying? Because I have no idea what she's saying,' and Darcy rolls her eyes.

"No, that was gold, you guys, seriously, because on Star Trek? There are these aliens called the Borg, who..." She abandons the explanation with a melodramatic sigh. "My brilliance is wasted on you two."

"No it's not," Bucky says matter-of-factly, as he pulls her into his lap for a kiss.

Sunlight streams determinedly through the gaps around the heavy curtains of Darcy's bedroom, but all three of them are blissfully unaware of it.

Darcy is lying on her side, kissing Bucky and stroking him slowly as Steve thrusts lazily into her from behind. Bucky is rubbing gentle circles between her thighs, and it's all a lovely, half-awake thing. They've been at it for ten minutes, or maybe an hour, she couldn't say, when Steve starts to pick up the pace. She hums contentedly, pushing back against him. Bucky groans softly against her lips as she strokes him firmly in time with Steve's thrusts.

Darcy comes first, with a quiet gasp. She feels a spill of warmth over her hand moments later, and Steve gives a few final thrusts before collapsing against her back and slinging an arm over the both of them.

She falls asleep for a bit after that, but she wakes when the mattress dips on Steve's side of the bed. She reaches out without opening her eyes and manages to grab something—a thumb.

"Where do you think you're going?" she mumbles into the pillow.

Steve turns his hand in hers so he can lace their fingers together. "To get us some breakfast," he says from somewhere above her, and presses a kiss to her knuckles.

"Mmmph," she concedes reluctantly, eyes still closed. She lets him go, but only for that.

When she finds her way into the living room after a shower, Bucky is putting plates on the table as Steve unpacks his purchases, which would seem to include bagels, lox and cream cheese, as well as a tray of Starbucks coffees.

"Dude," Darcy says, drawing out the vowel in the middle to show her appreciation, because being articulate before midday on a Saturday is just showing off.

There's one small bag from the bakery that hasn't been unpacked yet. "Is that what I think it is?" Darcy asks.

Steve just gives her a knowing smile from under his eyelashes as he slices a bagel in half. She opens the bag to find a single raspberry tart, her favourite treat.

"My hero," she smiles, kissing his cheek before sitting down at the table.

Bucky stops beside her chair to put a butter knife down next to her plate. "Dessert for breakfast?" he asks sceptically.

She tips her face up towards him. "Is that your way of saying I'm sweet enough already?"

"Let me check," he says, and leans down to kiss her. He pulls back and runs his tongue thoughtfully over his lip as he takes a seat. "Sweetest girl I ever met," he informs her, tearing a chunk off a bagel.

Darcy grins as she bites into the tart. Her mother may be disappointed, horrified, even, at her choices in life, but Darcy no longer doubts her own judgement. She doesn't intend for her mother to ever find out about her boys, but even if she did, it wouldn't matter. Darcy is wise enough these days to trust those who love her for who she is, not those who love what they think she should be.

AN: Thank you, as always, for reading. If you liked this at all, I have a longer story with this OT3 called Some Nights.