A/N: Based on a prompt from glynnisi: /post/175489201620/kendryhills-eat-her-pussy-like-her-ex-is

Darcy was answering an email from Jane- she and Bucky were adding another week to their honeymoon, the scamps- when the news interrupted her Telenova with a special bulletin. A crazed HYDRA assassin had escaped from captivity and was on the loose. Civilians were advised not to approach him blah blah blah armed and dangerous blah blah blah anyone with information on the whereabouts of Brock Rumlow-

"Holy shit!" Darcy threw her phone aside and sat up as Steve rushed into the living room.

"What's wrong?" He was in full gear, no doubt getting ready to go find that killer.

"I know that guy," Darcy pointed at the screen. "I went on a date with him like a million years ago."

Steve looked like he just found out she was secretly his granddaughter. "You went on a date with Rumlow?"

"I didn't know who he was!" Darcy threw up her hands. "You think I'd knowingly go out with a pseudo-Nazi killer? I thought he was an FBI agent. He wasn't exactly honest on his dating profile."

"I am so glad I skipped breakfast." Steve sunk down on the couch, his head in his hands. Unfortunately, the mental images were already etched into his skull, never to come out.

"If it helps, he was creepy. That's why there was no second date."

"Why'd you agree to go out with him in the first place? He's got to be twice your age!"

"First off, you're four times my age," Darcy said, "second, creepiness aside, dude was hot. Have you seen his abs?"

"I'm not listening to this anymore."

"Also, he looked like he could do good tongue work," she shrugged. It was kind of a lie (Nazi dude, in fact, had a fairly average tongue), but rustling Steve's feathers was one of her favorite things to do. Right after sending screamer videos to trolls on the Jane Foster fan forum.

Steve averted his eyes, staring out the window at some trees. It was a sunny day out, warm and windy. A small family rode by on the bike trail and a woman read a book under the shade of an awning. So peaceful, it was almost nauseating.

Steve hummed the way he always did when he was deep in thought. Before Darcy could ask, he was towering over her. He sunk to his knees and had her jeans off in seconds. It was a real talent of his, as was that smoldering darkness in his eyes that just dared her to try and stop him.

He pushed aside her panties, which was good because they were about to soak through and dammit, she liked this pair. His sinfully perfect tongue slid along her pussy, up and down getting closer and closer to her throbbing clit. Darcy moaned and reached down to rub it, only for Steve to shove her hand away.

"Not yet," he growled.

He lapped up her juices, pinching her thighs to make her yelp. She reached under her shirt to rub her nipples. Thank the lord she went braless today. She nearly screamed when Steve finally took mercy on her and went for her clit. He attacked it full force, licking and sucking, keeping her on edge until her entire body ached with need.

"Steeeeeeeve," she moaned desperately.

That was all it took. He sent her flying to the moon with one final nip of his teeth. He kept going through her orgasm, dragging it out as long as possible. Darcy briefly forgot her own name and where they were. It came back as Steve pulled her into his arms, putting his tongue to use one more time to kiss the life out of her. She clung to him like she'd die without him, which of course was exactly what he wanted. He always got what he wanted from her.

"Wha- was tha- for?" she slurred. He laid her to rest on the couch, stroking her clit gently with one calloused thumb to give her a few extra waves of pleasures.

"Because I'm an asshole," he said.

"Huh?"

He threw the shield out the window. When he got ahold of it, she didn't know, but it sailed through the open space, slamming into something solid. A grunt of pain preceded a black-clad body falling out of the bushes. Darcy shrieked, running across the room, not caring that she was half naked for the world to see. Steve followed, gun drawn. He aimed at the man on the ground, but it wasn't necessary; he was out cold.

"Is that Rumlow?" Darcy leaned her body out the window to grab a nearby rake. She used it to move his head to one side. "It is him! Jesus Christ, how long has he been out here?"

"No idea," Steve said. "Long enough. I noticed him a few minutes ago. He's really lost his touch."

"Did you seriously just eat me out to show up a deranged killer I used to date?" Darcy snapped.

Steve had the decency to be slightly ashamed, but mostly proud of himself. "Well… yeah, I did."

There was a lengthy pause. Then Darcy grabbed Steve's collar and pulled his face down. "You studmuffin, you! Kiss me!"

He did, and it was several hours before either of them was coherent enough to realize they should probably call the cops.