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You were objectively a good friend. You had to be, to have flown to Germany at such short notice. Sam's message had sounded urgent. You may not be Avenger's level, but you were smart and good with a gun, that was enough for him.
You found Sam waiting outside a building where he greeted you and gave you a simple debrief. More super soldiers being created; great. Just what the world needed to come back to. At the sound of someone walking toward you, you turned and met a familiar face; your heart skipped a beat. Bucky.
"Hey." His greeting was short and curt. Although minimal, it was enough to send your thoughts spiraling.
"Hey." You repeated, a polite smile on your lips. You hadn't seen him since Tony’s funeral. He looked different. His hair cropped, his once full beard was now cut down to a stubble. Different, but it suited him. You wanted to appreciate how handsome he was, but looking at him now only served to remind you of what was probably the worst day of your life. The day you saw him turn to ash; the day that Thanos won. Seeing him fade into nothingness, you remembered your heart turning to stone, dropping to your feet. You thought you'd never get to see him again, that you'd never get a chance to tell him that you…
Well, you never got to reflect on it too much, since shortly after you were gone too, another victim in Thanos's war against the universe.
Bucky began to lead you and Sam into the building by flashlight. You trailed along behind the two of them, unable to overhear their hushed conversation until Sam’s voice raised.
"What are you talking about? You wanna break Zemo out of jail?" Sam asked astounded.
"Woah," you interjected, reminding them of your presence, "I thought we were in Germany to talk to him. Break him out?"
"We have no leads, no moves, nothing," Bucky responds, more directly to Sam than to you, still leading the way. You couldn't see much, but you appeared to be surrounded by tools, some type of workshop maybe?
"What we have is one of the most dangerous men in the world behind bars," Sam argued. He and Bucky went back and forth a bit before Bucky turned on a light. Your eyes adjusted; you realized you were in some sort of garage. "Can you tell him this is a bad idea?" Sam asked you.
Turning to Bucky, you spoke honestly, despite the eye contact twisting your stomach. "I have to agree, it's a bad idea. We can't trust Zemo, who knows what he'll try to pull if he gets out." You couldn't tell if you were imagining it, but a small twitch in Bucky's eyes suggested he was disappointed by your disagreement. You just chalked it up to wishful thinking, as if he could be affected by you in any way.
"Look Bucky, I know why this matters to you, but, come on, it's pushing you off the deep end," Sam was trying to sympathize with the former soldier who seemed unwavering in his stance.
"Sam, we don't know how they're getting the serum. We don't even know how many of them there are." Bucky defended. Sam turned, clearly tired of the conversation. "Look, let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?"
You looked at him quizzically. Sam turned back at Bucky with almost a glare. "What did you do?" It was almost a statement.
"I didn't do anything…" Bucky started, going on about a hypothetical prison break-out situation. You examined the garage around you. You could feel in your gut, that you knew where this was going.
"I don't like how casual you're being about this. It's unnatural." Sam interrupted. "And where are we man?"
A door closed in the distance, and the three of you turned to see who was coming.
"Woah, woah, woah..." Sam started towards the man who just walked in wearing a guard's uniform; Zemo you assumed.
You lost track of the ongoing argument between Bucky and Sam, instead, you examined the latest arrival to your little team. You had never met Zemo before, you just helped in the fight against him indirectly, providing intel and equipment to Steve, Sam, and Bucky when they needed it. On paper, you couldn't help but consider him horrid, dangerous, and evil. You held a small reserve of sympathy for the reasons behind what he did, but the actions he took were unforgivable. Especially seeing firsthand what the effects were on people you had grown to call friends.
But as you took him in now, you couldn't help but admit that he was rather handsome. You also felt inclined to draw parallels between him and Bucky. The angular jaw, the sharp eyes that seem to observe everything, with keen focus. It seems you had a type. When Zemo's eyes met yours, you couldn't help but feel warmth draw to your cheeks at the almost indiscernible smile that drew across his lips at the sight of you.
***
A few hours later, the four of you found yourself on the Baron's private jet. He was being surprisingly complacent despite the unspoken understanding that he would be going back to jail eventually. You supposed you'd just have to see how long his willing participation would last. You had to admit it was kind of fascinating to learn more about his moral code. You almost understood him. Not everyone was as good as Steve; it was risky letting people give themselves more power than they knew how to handle.
Throughout the conversation, you couldn't help but look at Bucky. Worrying about him. When the conversation turned to Steve, you wondered how Bucky felt now that he was the only man out of time left. The only person who could've possibly fully understood him was gone. The last remnant of who he was before the Winter Soldier.
You caught yourself looking at him for too long, so you quickly turned away, only to catch Zemo being the one staring at you. His brows slightly furrowed, like he was studying you. He looked briefly at Bucky before his gaze returned to you.
Squirming under the weight of his scrutiny, you turned towards the jet window. You'd hoped that the sight of the clouds would take your mind off of everyone else who was in this jet with you. You were only half-listening about the lawless ways of Madipoor and the plan for when you all arrived when your name caught your ear.
"Excuse me??" You exclaimed, taken aback by what the Baron had said.
"The only cover suitable for you would be for you to be my lady for the night," Zemo repeated.
"Absolutely not," Bucky interjected sternly, which surprised you. You looked at him, stunned by the tone with which he spoke.
"Why can't I be anything else?" You questioned Zemo.
"We are already entering Madripoor with the threat of the Winter Soldier in our midst. We need to maintain the illusion that we are there for pleasure, not a fight. Having a beautiful woman on my arm may serve to convince our hosts of that." Zemo explained eloquently, his eyes never leaving yours.
"She isn't doing it." Bucky declared, leaning forward in his seat, turning towards Zemo. You were perplexed by the sudden and seemingly random shift in his attitude.
"I can speak for myself Bucky, thank you." You turned to look at him, although his eyes were still hyper-fixated on Zemo, nearly glaring the Baron to death. "He makes a good point," You added with a sigh, looking to Sam for suggestions.
"Hey, whatever you're comfortable with." Sam shrugged, not wanting to get in the middle of anything.
"I'll be a perfect gentleman," Zemo added, hand over his heart in an attempted display of authenticity.
Turning back to Bucky, you leaned towards him in your seat. "Hey, you're the one we should be worried about, are you sure you're comfortable with being the soldier again?" You asked, wanting to comfort him in any way you could. He leaned back in his seat, putting distance between you.
"I'll be fine." He muttered, turning away from you to look out the window. You, Zemo, and Sam continued to look at Bucky, unsure what to make of his reaction. The rest of the jet ride went on in silence.
***
You tugged at the hem of the most scandalous garment you have ever worn. The sleek black number barely came down to your mid-thigh, and you were rocking more cleavage than you would ever consider appropriate for a mission. But that's what it means to be undercover, right? Fortunately, you were no stranger to heels, so you managed to keep up the pace as the four of you approached the club.
Making your way to the bar, you stood at Zemo’s side, playing the part of his arm candy. You hated to admit, so far it wasn’t half as bad as you thought it would be. Not for you, anyway. Bucky had seemed disgruntled the entire way there. He was doing a good job of hiding it now, his face stoic, eyes alert; full Winter Soldier mode.
You stood between Sam and Zemo. You nearly turned away with a grimace when the bartender started cutting into a snake to prepare “Smiling Tiger’s” drink. You grabbed your shot and clinked glasses with Zemo and Sam before downing your drink in one gulp. Your eyes widened in impressed disbelief at Sam’s ability to swallow the snake cocktail. You had to turn your head so that the bartender couldn’t see your reaction to something that wasn’t supposed to be out of the ordinary.
“Was that really necessary?” You asked about Sam’s drink, leaning your head against Zemo’s shoulder so that only he could hear you.
“Appearances, dragă,” Zemo practically whispered into your ear, bringing a blush to your cheeks. You pulled away slightly.
“And am I keeping up with mine?” The liquid courage was quickly running through your veins, placing your hand on the lapel of his rather extravagant coat.
“Indeed you are. Although James appears to be unhappy with tonight’s arrangement.” He teased, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, continuing your play-flirting.
“I don’t see why,” Your eyes turned towards the crowd, your heart feeling heavier at the thought of Bucky, “It’s not like he’s jealous.” Zemo hooked his finger under your chin, pulling you back to look at him, his warm brown eyes locking with yours.
“Do you want him to be?” Zemo inquired, almost challenging you, daring you. Your brows furrowed in surprise at his brazen suggestion. Maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was the accent, or maybe it was the way he was looking at you, but something about Zemo had emboldened you in a way you hadn’t felt since long before you were reduced to dust by Thanos. You wanted to feel alive again. Plus Bucky would probably never look at you the way you wanted him to, so what was the harm? Your eyes flicked to Zemo’s lips before returning his gaze.
“Yes.”
Before Zemo could make another move, a man came up behind him with news from “on high.” You followed the conversation, something about a Power Broker. In less than a minute, another man had come up behind Zemo, but he was ready, ordering Bucky to attack.
“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo quipped, which made you frown. You worried about what was going through Bucky’s mind as he played the role that Hydra had forced upon him. At least now it was just pretend, but it had to be affecting him somehow, even if he didn’t say it. You wondered if he was still having nightmares, something he confided in you about when you visited him in Wakanda, before the Blip. The crowd around you cocked their guns, leading Zemo to pull you behind him. “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us,” he whispered as Bucky pinned the attacker against the bar.
“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interrupted, thankfully. You felt yourself longing to ask Bucky if he was okay, but decided to stay in character to let Sam take care of it. You caught up with Zemo and followed him to Selby’s location.
You let Zemo guide you since you were still playing the role of his mistress for the evening. He took a seat on the couch opposite Selby, a short-haired eccentric-looking woman. You thought he would place you at his side but to your surprise, he guided you straight into his lap. You rest your head against Zemo’s shoulder, the fur of his coat soft against your cheek. You pretended that you were completely uninterested in the conversation between him and Selby; nothing more than some ditzy hired escort for the night.
“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” Selby questioned Zemo.
“People like us always find a way don’t we?” Zemo answered smugly. “Besides,” he added, “The company here is far better.” When he spoke, he ran his hand up the exposed portion of your outer thigh, eliciting a small gasp from your lips. He moved on with the conversation, but your mind was still focused on the warmth of his glove on your skin. You shifted your gaze with subtlety to see if Bucky noticed; he did. His eyes were glued to where Zemo’s hand was on your leg, but aside from that, his face was otherwise emotionless. Squeezing your thigh, Zemo moved you off of him, so that he could discuss his offer of handing the Winter Soldier to Selby.
You pulled down the hem of your dress as you readjusted yourself on the couch. You watched Zemo advertising Bucky like he was just some machine, some object to be pawned off. You hated it. Bucky just stared straight ahead; he barely noticed. For a brief moment, his eyes met yours and you wondered if he could sense your worry, but nope, he didn’t seem to care at all. He was stone, as always.
Zemo reclaimed his seat by your side bringing his arm to rest across your shoulders, drawing you into him once again, while Selby informed him of the details of how the serum came to be. All was going well until Sam’s phone went off.
When the gunshot went through Selby’s chest, you immediately jumped out of your seat with alarm. You were surprised to find it was Bucky’s hand that pulled you aside, his grip firm, pulling you from Zemo’s side. The four of you hastily made your way out of the club at Zemo’s guidance; you tried not to twist your ankle in the process.
You were all speed walking through the streets of Madripoor when more gunfire outside caused the group to split. Bucky took your hand once more and pulled you along, Zemo running off in a different direction.
“I can’t run in these heels!” Sam yelled, and you shot him a look.
“Oh don’t you even start,” you yelled back, doubling your heeled steps to keep up with Bucky, whose hand was still gripping yours tightly. The three of you started down a road, shooters on your tail. Gunshots rang out from above you, and the men chasing you on their motorcycles dropped to the ground. When the shots finally seemed to cease, Bucky turned to you, his eyes scanning over your body for any injuries. "Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm- I'm good. I'm okay." You panted out. His hands moved up your arms to further assess your physical state in case the adrenaline kept you from being aware of any wounds. His eyes found yours and for the first time that night, you saw genuine concern in his gaze. God, you missed when he looked at you like that. When the threat seemed to be over, a voice came out of the nearby alley. As though he was jolted back to reality, Bucky's hands dropped back to his sides, taking a step from you.
“You seem to have a guardian angel,” Zemo remarked, stepping out from the alleyway. You were surprised he didn’t take advantage of an opportunity to get away. Seems he was telling the truth about not leaving his work unfinished. You tried to catch your breath, and a new voice emerged.
“Well, this is too perfect.” You all turned, and you recognized Sharon Carter as the one who saved your lives. She was reasonably aggravated at the sight of Zemo among your group, but Bucky and Sam were able to explain the current situation. Hearing about Sharon’s circumstance reminded you of your own. You had been on the run for a bit after you helped Steve Rogers and his side of the Avengers split. After everyone had been unblipped, you went home and were pardoned almost immediately, and you briefly wondered why this wasn’t the case for Sharon. No matter the case, you were grateful to find her in Madripoor now. Soon enough, the five of you were off to Sharon’s place in High Town.
***
You awoke sometime in the middle of the night, the sun not yet risen. You were in one of Sharon's guest rooms since the group decided to go after Wilfred Nagel in the morning. You'd all been through enough in the past day. You were surprised you had been able to sleep at all; your mind was racing with concern for Bucky. He hasn't spoken much to you, especially not directly. Your mind returned to the way he pulled you along, as you ran from the gunfire. The way his hand dwarfed yours, the contrast between the leather of his fingerless gloves, and the warmth of his skin. The feel of his hands examining you for wounds, trailing gently up your arms, the sensation lingering even after he pulled away.
You felt yourself warming at the thought of his touch and decided to get a glass of water to cool you down. You managed to find your way to a very spacious kitchen when you saw that someone else had the same idea, a small kitchen light barely illuminating the area. Bucky was seated at an island, his glass almost empty, which made you wonder how long he'd been there. He seemed lost in thought until the sound of your approach caught his attention.
"Good morning," You joked, with a small smile, slowly approaching the island. You barely discerned the slight upturn of his lips, before he took a sip of water from his cup.
"Morning'."
You noticed the darkness under his eyes, along with the disheveled nature of his hair, like he had been tossing and turning.
"Couldn't sleep?" You asked. Still looking down at his glass, he shook his head impassively. You frowned, weighing whether or not you should push forward.
"Are you still having nightmares?" You added softly, head tilted with concern. He looked away, still not meeting your eyes. You noted the way the muscles in his jaw tensed, you figured he didn't appreciate your question. At his silence, you continued hesitantly, "You can tell me you know…” You leaned across the island, resting your hand on his forearm. His arm tensed immediately, and he still wouldn't look at you. You sighed in defeat and pulled away from him. "You used to…" you added on quietly, unsure if he would hear.
Apparently he did; his eyes finally turned to meet yours, almost defensive. His lips parted, as though to speak, but this time it was you who turned away. You walked over to the fridge to pour a glass of water for yourself. When you returned you took the seat across from him on a rather tall stool, your feet not touching the ground. You could feel him watching your every move now. You suddenly felt very self-conscious about your loose t-shirt and short shorts.
"I wasn't sure if you still cared." Bucky finally broke the silence; his words surprised you.
"Why would you think that?" Your heart stung a bit from what he thought of you. Of course you cared. You cared about him probably more than he wanted you to.
“Haven’t heard from you since the funeral.” He stated, looking at you for answers.
"I just…” You were unsure how to start. “I know you've been through a lot. I figured you needed some space, you know. To focus on the therapy, being pardoned, your new life.” You explained. He looked unconvinced, so you continued. “And Sam told me you weren’t talking to him either. I figured you’d probably ignore me too." The last thing you wanted to do was distance yourself from him, but you thought it was what he wanted, what he needed so that he could focus on living a normal life. You didn’t think that his new life included you. He never reached out, so you took it as a sign that you should move on, although clearly, that hadn’t happened. Bucky rose from his seat.
"I didn’t need space." Bucky asserted."It doesn't matter anyway, you’ve found other ways to keep yourself occupied now." You sighed, catching on quickly to what he was referring to.
"Bucky, everything with Zemo tonight was just an act. I was just playing a cover. It doesn't mean anything." You defended. Bucky slowly rounded the corner of the island while you spoke and you turned in your seat so that he was now standing in front of you.
"Maybe not to you, but he's probably already thinking of you like you're his," Bucky spoke more quietly now given the decreasing proximity between you. From your seated position, if you parted your legs, his hips could easily slide between them. Why were you noticing that?
Looking up at him, you responded. "I'm not anyone's." Your voice came out more softly than you intended, but you couldn’t compel any more strength when he was looking down at you the way he was. Your heart rate began to accelerate as Bucky’s right hand came up to cup your cheek. The skin of his thumb felt rough against the softness of your bottom lip as he traced it gently. Your hands were now gripping the sides of the stool you sat on, frozen. Bucky lowered his head to bring his mouth to your ear.
“Wrong. You’re mine.” His words, coupled with the way his lips grazed your ear caused your entire lower body to tense, your thighs squeezing together.
“Since when?” You whispered in confusion, breathing between tiny gasps as Bucky’s mouth worked its way across the exposed skin of your neck. His vibranium hand came to rest on your waist and you gripped the metal arm to keep your balance on the backless stool.
“Since always.” Bucky spoke against your skin, “Since the first day I met you.” He placed another kiss against the side of your throat. He took your face between his hands, “I’ve just been too much of a coward to tell you.” He placed another kiss on your forehead, and your eyes closed at the gentle touch. He placed his forehead against yours. “But I’ll be honest, doll. As scary as it is telling you how I feel right now,” he sighed, “It isn’t half as scary as the thought of you being with someone else.”
You didn't know what to say, so you closed the small distance between you and pressed your lips to his. He responded immediately, his lips warm and soft against yours. You could hardly process his words, your mind was moving fast and slow like you were caught in a dream. You smiled against his lips, before pulling back slightly. "You're right. I am yours." One of his hands left your face to entangle itself at the roots of your hair, pulling just enough to cause a delicious amount of pressure.
"Say it again." He said breathlessly. You took a moment to appreciate how gorgeous Bucky looked, seeing him this way for the first time. His lips and cheeks were slightly flushed, his pupils wide, almost desperate. The lust was new, but there was something familiar still. A solidity in his stare that you could only describe as power. Power over you. He needed to be in control. But not as the Winter Soldier anymore, as himself. He had that control in his life now. And you were willing to give yourself to him completely. You looked deeply into his eyes.
"I am yours, Bucky." You dragged out the enunciation so that he wouldn't miss a syllable and his lips crashed back to yours. His metal arm circled your side, his palm resting at the small of your back. Your legs parted and immediately Bucky closed the space between you, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your own hands came to tangle in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You moaned into him, and he took it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue finding your own. Bucky felt your thighs clench around him. He ran his hands down your sides, before sliding them under your ass and he lifted you off the stool.
You wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders, trying to support yourself in his arms. His lips parted from yours just far enough for him to get one question out.
"Room?" You nodded, before returning your lips to his. You couldn't get enough of it, of kissing him. The way his tongue moved playfully against yours, the quick bites to your lip, which you returned. Bucky moved skillfully through the dark hallway despite your welcome distractions and came to a stop at the second to last door in that hall. He supported your full weight with his vibranium arm, using the other to open the door to his guest suite.
You didn't care to take in the room since you were busy placing more kisses across Bucky's jaw and down his throat. He leaned against the now-closed door, and a slight nip to his throat elicited a low swear and a generous squeeze to your ass.
"You're gonna have to pay for that, doll," Bucky warned, carrying you over to the bed.
"You promise?" You smiled against his shoulder, already writhing in his arms in anticipation. He laid you down, your ass on the edge of the bed, your legs hanging over them. Bucky took both your wrists in one hand, and brought them up above your head continuing his assault on your neck.
"You'll pay for that and all the other shit you were pulling tonight." Bucky stood up and began pushing the hem of your sleep shirt up towards your waist. You took the hint and sat up, pulling the shirt the rest of the way off, revealing your bare chest to him. You froze momentarily while he appreciated this newly exposed part of you. You calmed a bit when he cupped your cheek. "You are beautiful." Your eyes closed at the gentle whisper of your name, relaxing against him. He let his hands trace your sides again, already learning how much you appreciated the gentle touch. Goosebumps arose in response to the slight chill of his metal hand, but you found it to be a pleasant contrast to your warm flushed skin. He leaned over you, bringing his mouth to your breast while the vibranium hand cupped the other. He massages the weight of it in his metal hand, occasionally brushing his cold thumb over your stiff nipple. He hummed against your flesh and you moaned softly in response to the vibration.
He eventually moved his mouth to your other breast, switching to his vibranium arm to support his weight. His flesh hand laid against your thigh as he used his thumb to stroke your slit through the thin fabric of your pajama shorts, feeling the dampness already soaking through. He pulled his mouth away from you, which caused your eyes to open and see him looking down at you.
"Will you let me have a taste of what's mine?" Bucky asked, a filthy and playful smirk across his lips. Both his hands were now at your waist, his fingers eagerly caressing the top of your shorts.
“Yes, please.” You answered, lifting your hips just enough for him to pull your shorts down your legs. You felt completely exposed now, though your legs were still shut. Bucky ran his hand up your outer thigh, almost exactly repeating Zemo’s move from when you were in Selby’s office, though Bucky’s hands were now eliciting a far stronger reaction. He squeezed your thigh in silent encouragement, getting you to part your legs for him. Sinking to his knees, he hooked your thighs over his shoulders and began running his tongue along your inner thighs, his stubble slightly scratching the supple skin.
The warm softness of his tongue had you clenching with want, and you placed your hand over your mouth to contain some of the louder moans that tried to escape you. You were punished with a sharp bite to your thigh, that only served to make your core throb even more.
“I didn’t say you could be quiet.” Bucky voiced disapprovingly. You sat up to look at him, resting your weight on your forearms. It was hard to focus given how insanely hot he looked between your thighs.
“Well, aren’t we gonna disturb Sam?” You asked thinking back to the second and only other room in the hall.
“It’s not Sam’s room.” He responded bluntly. Your brow furrowed momentarily, but before you could ask any further questions, Bucky returned to your core and licked a slow broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit. “Fuck, you taste amazing,” he murmured against you, causing one fist to curl against the sheet as you brought the other to the short brown strands of his hair. All consideration for noise concern flew out the window when Bucky started using the tip of his tongue to rub circles against your clit.
“Fuck Bucky.” You moaned his name like a prayer, and truthfully it might have been because the way his mouth moved against you was nothing short of a blessing. He varied his movements, his tongue sliding across your labia like he couldn’t get enough of your taste. His moans sent vibrations through you that made your thighs quiver against his shoulders.
His hands massaged your thighs while he was devouring your sex, but eventually, he moved to your hips so he could hold you still against his mouth. His grip was firm, you couldn’t escape him even if you wanted to, which you absolutely didn't want to. His tongue returned to your clit, stroking the bud of nerves side-to-side gradually building you up.
“Please, please...” You begged. His movement had you gasping for breath between words as you could feel your orgasm on the horizon. Bucky kept a consistent pace, drawing you nearer and nearer to the edge. He suddenly stopped. “What the fuck,” You panted, bringing yourself back up to your forearms. Bucky was looking at you with a sly and pussy-slicked grin.
“Doll, I think you forgot you were being punished,” He reminded you. He pressed a quick chaste kiss to your still very-stimulated clit, which evoked a whimper from you. “You had your fun teasing me tonight. Maybe I should tease you now?” His metal hand stayed at your hip while the other came to cup your mound, the base of his palm grinding against you, slowly reintroducing your lost orgasm.
“Whatever you want Bucky, I’m yours.” You whispered, answering honestly while also hoping to further stroke his confidence. You wanted him to feel sure about what he meant to you, and you trusted his intentions, even if he wanted to be a little playful first. You placed your hand on top of his vibranium one, interlocking your fingers with his. Your hand squeezed his when the other middle finger sunk into you with ease. He lowered his mouth back to your swollen bud, maintaining eye contact. It didn’t take long for him to add another, stretching you around his long digits. You tried to stay up as long as you could, but the combination of his fingers fucking you, his tongue stroking your clit, and his eyes searing into yours was making you deliciously lightheaded, so your head fell back against the mattress. Your free hand reached down to stroke, then grip his hair when you began to climb toward a new peak. Still stroking against your inner walls, Bucky spoke, lips still grazing your clit.
“I want you to cum okay? Cum all over my mouth, let me feel you on my fingers. Just cum for me, doll.” His words provided the sexiest mental stimulation you had ever encountered, pushing you right up to the edge, but you needed more. His mouth was secure against your cunt as his tongue, ever precise and skilled as the rest of him continued its motions against you, finally… finally sending you over. Your orgasm came in wave after wave of pleasure, as you cried out. One hand had a death grip on his vibranium hand and another gripped his hair. You tightly clenched around his fingers which were still stroking slowly to gently bring you down from your high. You were trembling against his mouth as he slowly came to a stop before bringing his mouth to languidly kiss your thigh.
Eventually, you felt your limbs go limp, your thighs gently placed back on the bed; the rise and fall of your chest finally started to slow to a somewhat normal breathing pace. Your eyes were still closed, you let the fog in your mind begin to clear and form competent thoughts.
“Come here.” You sat up and pulled Bucky up by his shirt, crashing your lips to his, moaning at your taste in his mouth. He moaned in response to your eagerness, your tongue stroking his. “I need this off.” You told him, bunching up his t-shirt in your impatient hands. He stood up in front of you and swiftly pulled the t-shirt over his head.
You had to resist the urge to spend the next few hours running your hands up and down his chest and torso, examining, kissing, and appreciating every scar, blemish, and muscle that his body was adorned with. You could feel Bucky tense at the attention, so you leaned forward and gently kissed his abdomen to reassure him. Your next kiss was more sensual and lingering, your lips moving against his abs, followed by your tongue. You could hear Bucky swear under his breath as a hand came up to fist your hair. You brought your hands to the top of his sweatpants desperate to see more of him. You slowly dragged the sweats down his hips until they were low enough to fall the rest of the way. Left in just his grey briefs, you eyed the thick length that was straining against the fabric. You let your hands run up his firm muscled thighs, drawing closer to his bulge. Before you allowed yourself to touch him, you pulled away with a smirk and moved to lay further up on the bed, inviting him to join you.
Without hesitation, Bucky finally finished undressing and was completely naked before you, your breath drawing quicker at the sight. He was more than you anticipated in every way. He moved up onto the bed, on his knees between your legs. His thighs rest between your own, which immediately found their way around his waist, as though your bodies just clicked into place. You whimpered at the feel of his cock resting against your very sensitive cunt, your hips rocking against him, begging him to fuck you. His hands came to your sides to try and stop your teasing, but he didn’t make another move after that. After a couple more moments of stillness, you opened your eyes to see Bucky looking down at you with concern. You stopped your motions.
“Bucky?” You asked, your brain trying to decipher where things might have gone wrong. His hands were firm against your hip. His figure was taut, but his eyes were running along the length of your body, trying to memorize something. “What’s wrong?” You could sense his hesitation, his thumbs tracing circles into your skin until your hand came to cover his own. Finally, his eyes found yours again, and he spoke.
“I love you.” It was almost a whisper, a confession, a realization. Your heart nearly stopped beating.
“What?” You returned, your voice barely above a whisper, very caught off guard.
“I know this is probably shitty timing on my part. I just- I couldn’t keep going without telling you.” He glanced down at where your bodies were so nearly joined, “I don’t think I’d feel right doing this without you knowing that I am…completely in love with you.”
You didn’t think you would cry, but looking at him… Bucky had never been so openly vulnerable. You thought you had gotten close before, pre-blip. Visiting him in Wakanda, checking on his progress, his road to freedom. It hadn’t been unusual for him to open up to you before. And you were already here melting at his touch at the revelation of him just having feelings for you. But this? The way he was looking down at you now, with adoration, vulnerability; with love. You could feel a slight sting building in your eyes as you reached up to pull him down to you, finding his lips with urgency.
“I love you.” You answered back against his lips, reveling at the smile you could feel forming. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner,” You added with a small laugh, half-apology half jest. Bucky’s attention moved to kissing any area of skin he could reach, kissing your cheek, your temple, your collarbones, your throat, all the while moving to pin your hands above your head while you lay underneath him.
“I should’ve called you sooner.” He remarked, still worshiping as much of your body as possible. He used his metal hand to hold your wrists above you, allowing his flesh hand to stroke and gently squeeze various parts of your figure, trying to understand how he was lucky enough to have someone like you writhing in pleasure for him. The shuffling between you two was causing friction; he was practically grinding against you now. You cried out in pleasure at the sensation.
“Bucky,” you begged. “Please. Can you fuck me now?”
Instead of responding, he shifted his weight onto the vibranium arm, using his free hand to grip his length, guiding the flushed and swollen tip to your entrance. You looked into his brilliant blue eyes, your hands resting on his shoulders, desperate for his next move. Without taking his eyes off yours, Bucky began to push into you, allowing your warmth to stretch around him. He began to lose himself in the feel of you squeezing him, trying with difficulty not to slam into you. He buried his face in your hair, crying out your name as you bit down on his throat, teeth sinking into the skin next to where the vibranium shoulder begins.
He slowly rocked his length in and out, pushing in deeper each time until eventually, you were taking every inch of him with ease. You muffled your moans against his neck, instinctively trying to temper down the gasps of pleasure he invoked in you as the speed of his thrusts increased. The vibrations from your mouth sent shudders down Bucky's back which you felt beneath your fingernails running them over the flexing muscles.
Bucky sat up, pulling your hips to his so that he stayed deep inside you. He pulled your thighs from around him, and stretched them out, parting your legs as far as they could go, holding them by your ankles. He almost fell into a trance, mesmerized by the way your hips were grinding against him, trying to fuck yourself on his length. He returned to his slow, tantalizing pace, pressing only the first few inches into you before pulling away again. You were panting, your brows furrowed, squirming beneath him in a silent plead. But that wasn't enough for him.
He reached for your cheek, using his thumb to pull your bottom lip from between your teeth, before wrapping the metal fingers around your throat. He wasn’t applying any pressure, but just having your throat in his grasp sent fire through your veins.
“Would you like me to keep fucking you?” Bucky asked. You whimpered, desperately tilting your pelvis, trying to get him deeper inside you, but he was relentless, still teasing. “Yeah? I think you do, but you gotta prove you want it, doll.” In one forceful stroke, he bottomed out inside of you.
“Oh fuck Bucky, please.” You grasped at anything around you, the sheets, his arm, your breast, needing something to ground you, losing yourself in his touch.
‘That’s right,” Bucky growled, his thrusts picking up speed. “That’s what I wanna hear, doll. No more hiding that beautiful voice from me, I wanna hear who you belong to.”
“You, Bucky. I’m yours, just yours.” You promised, between moans and swears. He moved his hand from the front of your throat to the back of your neck, pulling you up for a kiss. The angle shifted the feel of him inside you. He felt bigger, deeper pushing further into you with every stroke. You begged, and cried, your words a rambled mess, not asking for anything in particular, you just wanted more of him.
He let you fall back against the mattress, bringing your legs up to rest your ankles on his shoulders. You were practically bent in half on his dick, the angle bordering just on the edge of being too much. The muscles of his arm flexed under your hand, your nails digging into him as he plunged into you with increasing force. Cool metal fingers moved between you to circle your clit, and the temperature difference between his hand and your skin sent a shock through your body as you shuddered around him.
Your brain was spiraling, unable to acknowledge anything other than Bucky’s unbridled strength as he played with your body like it was made for him. You were overwhelmed, surrounded by him, his fingers, his cock, his tongue now running along the pulse in your neck, you were hurdling towards the edge again. He was groaning, crying out your name in bliss against your throat, urging you forward. Your legs grew weaker as you approached another orgasm, and they fell to wrap around Bucky’s waist once more, your arms embracing him, pulling him closer.
“That’s it.” He panted, dazed by how good it felt to be inside you as you got closer and closer. “That’s it, cum for me.” At this moment, your body was his to obey and at Bucky’s instruction, you began to fall apart. You came around him, your walls pulsating relentlessly. His name tore from your throat, nearly reverberating off the walls of the bedroom.
Your thighs squeezed his solid frame, but his pace never faltered, still chasing after his high. You ran your fingers through his hair, nails gently scratching; your focus entirely on him now. You whimpered sultry encouragements into his ear, rollings your hips against his. His vibranium hand grasped your wrist, then moved to interlock his fingers with your own. Your hand squeezed his, astounded at how a body so capable of destruction and violence, could move so gently against yours. How he could bring you nothing but pleasure, and only the most desirable kind of pain that comes from his teeth sinking into your shoulder. With a muffled growl, the movement of Bucky’s hips starts to falter, you lock your ankles behind his back, holding him still against you when his climax blazes through him. You felt him throb, and the accompanying warmth of him spilling into you caused both of your bodies to quiver synchronously. Your bodies were one, merged as you held him against you.
Eventually, the aftershocks began to fade, and you were both still, limbs entangled on the bed. He was still buried in you, but he made no effort to move, and you weren’t going to ask him to. The only movement either of you made was in the rise and fall of your chests as your breathing returned to normal. Bucky’s head laid against your chest, listening to the fluttering pace of your heart, and you let him remain at peace there, while you stroked his short brown locks, and traced meaningless lines across his back with your fingers.
When Bucky’s erection started to slip out of you, he pressed a quick kiss to your stomach before rolling onto his back, pulling you with him and maneuvering you both so now your head was resting on his chest. He laid another kiss against your slightly sweaty forehead, whispering “Mine,” softly against your skin. You smiled and responded with a chaste kiss on his chest before answering back with affirmation. You looked up at him, and his eyes were half-closed already, quickly falling asleep in a bed that for some reason didn’t have any pillows. You could feel the slick dripping out from between your thighs and figured you should get out of bed soon to clean yourself up. But then Bucky spoke again. “I might actually fall asleep in a bed for once,” barely a whisper, muffled into your hair. Your heart panged, and when he turned you so that he could spoon you from behind, that is when you noticed the pillows and most of the blankets were on the floor. Evidence of his earlier attempt at falling asleep. And now he was here, with you, on the precipice of comfort, holding you like he’d float away or sink if he let go. You could clean up later. He was letting you use his human arm as a pillow, and you pressed one last kiss to his bicep.
“I love you Bucky.” You were unsure if he was still awake, but you didn’t mind. You would tell him again tomorrow. And every day after, for as long as you could. And then, at last, scarcely cutting through the silence.
“I love you too.”