Question: Wintershock fic request please! “I am a personal space invader. “
Prompt Status: Accepting
anonymousasked:Wintershock fic request please! “I am a personal space invader. “
“Come on, please?”’
“Help me Bionic Kenobi, you are my
Letting out a groan of frustration she
falls back onto the training mats starring at the ceiling, beside her
Barnes never breaks his rhythm, shoulders never touch the ground as
he completes the smooth movements from upward facing dog into a plank
position. He’s not even sweating and Darcy is pretty sure he’s done
about a gazillion hours at this point.
“Barnes.” she’s not proud of the
whining quality of her voice but fuck she’s desperate, “Just think
of it as a mission—a good will mission for your old pal Darcy.”
the lights are starting to make her vision go blurry at the edges so
she rolls to her side. Keeping her eyes on his face (with Herculean
effort, damn those arms) on full display since his dark locks were
pulled back into a sloppy ponytail Darcy watches the seamless switch
between downward dog to the start of a handstand.
“It’s not gonna happen Lewis.”
“I will plead, beg and bake as
needed. Name your price.”
Somehow he manages to push himself into
a standing position from the handstand in a move too fast for her to
follow and she had to scramble back onto her feet to follow him.
Between his longer strides and head start Darcy doesn’t manage to catch up
before he is walking into the men’s locker room, shooting a smug
smile over his shoulder.
Son of a bitch.
“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!”
Sitting cross legged in front of his
locker she glances up from her phone, glasses sliding down her pert
nose before she brings a hand up to fix it. A look of shock colors
his features, mouth slightly parted and blue eyes widening in
disbelief. His towel was hanging low, water droplets sliding down to
pool at the sharp cut of his hipbone. Unlike Thor or Steve (who
somehow always managed to end up shirtless) Barnes had a light
sprinkling of chest hair that faded around his abs and gathered again
to hint at things she had no hope of knowing about below the towel.
“Have you never head of privacy,
Releasing the bottom lip she hadn’t
realized her teeth had been worrying Darcy lifts a shoulder in what
she hoped was a careless shrug (honestly it could have seemed like
the beginning of a seizure because she is not fully in control of her
mental capacities with a hot shirtless hottie—see, she can’t
“I am a personal space invader.”
“Clearly” he growls out, those too
blue eyes narrowing at her, “Mind clearing out so I can change?”
“Gonna say yes?”
“Then by all means, Sarge.”
She’s banking on his delicate 1940’s
sensibilities (the same ones that always have him standing when a
lady walks in the dinning area, opening doors for Hill despite her
glares and never letting Darcy carry a bag if she is in a 50 mile
radius of him) to keep that towel firmly wrapped around his waist.
She should have known better then to issue a challenge to Barnes
though, he had a competitive streak a mile long.
Bionic fingers untuck the corner of the
towel that is holding up the fabric, with a tilt of his head he
raises a questioning brow as if to give her one last chance to back
off. Lifting her chin she just extends her legs in front on her on
the bench and knocks her heels together, a small smile on her lips.
It’s not quite full frontal nudity, he
is in profile—facing the locker designated as his and digging
through it for something. Darcy has a glorious view of his ass,
muscles clench when he bends forward slightly to grab something from
a lower shelf. Long legs are slipping into a pair of boxers (which
answers that question) and soon the black fabric is stretched over
that perfectly round ass.
He tenses when her fingers drag up the
length of his back, she’s standing on what would be considered a
respectful distance away from him if he hadn’t been mostly naked.
Hair was still damp from his shower and it causes little drops to
travel down to her wrists as she pets the heavy mass (God she’s out
of shape, her calves are already protesting being on her tip toes).
The strands slip through her fingers as he turns to face her so she
settles on ghosting them over the rough scruff of his jawline. Darcy
runs the pad of her thumb over his plump bottom lip, his tongue peeks
out to tease her or moisten his lips (with Barnes it could be either,
he has a hell of an oral fixation).
His pupils are blow wide, cool metal
fingers are skimming over her left arm and it sends a shudder down
her spine that he is sure to notice (she doesn’t make an effort to
“That’s not fair.”
“I know, now say yes.”
With a groan he drops his head to rest
on her shoulder, her fingers still carting through his wet hair, and
his shoulders slump forward in defeat. She is surrounded by him, the
scent of soap clings to his skin, after a moment he drops a kiss on
her neck and pulls back.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Yes!” she goes as far as to fist
pump because she just broke the resolve of a world renowned super
assassin. “I will RSVP for two beef?”
He nods and turns back to his locker
continuing to get dressed.
“You wont regret it, Barnes.”
Glancing over his shoulder he asks,
“I’m already regretting it, and I see it’s Barnes again,
huh?” he tugs down his shirt, a generic Stark Industries t-shirt.
“Look, T-1000, it’s not my fault
you’re an easy mark.”
Closing the locker door he leans onto
it, arms crossed and water still dripping from his hair is wetting
the collar of his shirt. Darcy tries not to be distracted by the fact
that the sleeves of his shirt have been ripped off, leaving all those
muscles out to oogle.
“Plus, I got two words for you.”
she holds up a victory sign, “Open. Bar. My sister is marrying
“Can’t get drunk.”
“True, damn. That’s just sad.”
tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear she looks up at him from
under her lashes, “You have a suit?”
“I can get one.”
“Anything else you wanna extort from
“No, though I feel like since I’ve
seen you naked I at least owe you dinner.” fixing her glasses is a
nervous habit and she finds her fingers fiddling with the frames,
“Say, Friday at eight?”
“You asking me to step out with you,
“Only if that’s fossil for ‘going on
“Yes, I’m asking you to step out with me.”
“Okay, but since you did the asking I
expect flowers and wooing.”
“You are gonna be a pain in my ass,
aren’t you Bucky?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”