Chapter Text
Soft classical music played over the speakers, partially drowned out with the constant whir of the pottery wheel. With her elbows braced on her knees she held the design tool steady as it carved a smooth line in the clay. Her hands were chalky with the dried terracotta and her apron and pants were speckled with it. She poked her tongue out the corner of her mouth while it was bit between her teeth in a look of concentration. Leaning back and slowing the wheel she looked at her work, tilting her head back and forth before nodding with the decision to add another thin groove. As she placed the tool back against the soft clay a solid hand clamped over her mouth from behind as another softer arm wound around her waist just below her breasts. The hand muffled the shriek and she heard a deep chuckle as her surprise attacker rested his head on her shoulder. She threw her elbow back, jabbing him in the ribs as he laughed.
“James Barnes, I swear! One of these days either you’re gunna kill me or I’m gunna kill you!” she said when he released her mouth.
“You’re gunna kill me? How do you figure that?” he grabbed a chair and leaned back in it next to her.
She pointed the carving tool at him with squinted eyes, “There are a few dangerous tools in here,” she poked him in the stomach and ribs as he pretended it hurt.
“Noted,” he chuckled.
She looked back to her vase and frowned. A deep jagged line ripped through the thin ornate designs she had created.
“Look what you did,” she pouted.
“I’m sorry,” and he truly looked it, so she sighed and picked up a wet sponge to smooth out the vase and start again.
“How’d you get in here without setting off the alarm?” her voice was soft in the empty pottery studio.
“I’m an assassin, can’t give away all my secrets,” he smiled running his fingers though his hair. He stared, mesmerized by the spinning wheel and her slow delicate hands before speaking again, “Anyway, how’d you get in here after hours?”
“Me?” she scoffed, “I work here,”
He leaned forward on his elbows, leaning closer to her, “I thought you worked for Stark?”
“I do,” she shook off her wet hands and picked up the carving tool again, “But when I’m not runnin’ around trying to keep up with you guys… I’m here,” she sighed slowly as she lifted the tool revealing an intricate swirling mark, a small smile laid across her lips, “And after a hard day it makes good art therapy,”
“Rough day?”
The wheel slowed to a stop as she looked up at him and sighed. A dark bruise had taken up residence on his cheekbone and a split in his eyebrow was held shut with a few stitches. Long sleeves were rolled up enough to see his forearm had been bandaged and two of his fingers were taped together, she didn’t know what injuries were hidden under his clothes. The team had just come back from a mission early that morning. He saw her taking inventory of his wounds and gave her a small shrug and sad smile.
“Yeah,” she whispered, “Rough day,”
“We’re alright,” he replied just as quietly.
“No, you’re not,” she scoffed as she turned back to the wheel, “But you’re home… and that’s all I could hope for, I guess,”
As their assistant, she normally went with them on missions. Not to the actual fight, obviously, but she would be near enough and know what was happening; she was often in control of their communications and stayed with the jet. Sometimes, she wasn’t authorized to go along. The trouble was… she’d gotten attached. More than she should have let herself. And they had too. She was part of the team now… hero or not.
“Hey,” James put is left hand on her knee softly and she looked up at him, “We’re all ok,”
Her lips trembled a little as she spoke, “I know… I know,” she sighed and shook her head, trying to shake off the feelings of the day, “Just… a lot of stress today. And relief. Lots of…” she trailed off, looking down at the floor.
“I know,” he echoed. She nodded, looking down at the steel hand still resting gently on her leg, thumb rubbing slow soothing circles. The hand was never cold to her, circuits and motors giving off enough heat to keep it from being too chilly.
She returned to her work and he watched quietly. It was a new pattern now, not the one that had been destroyed. This one was softer, elegant, romantic. Her tongue poked out the corner of her mouth as she worked and he smiled at the sight. After cleaning up the last groove she leaned back and looked at it, turning her head as she had before, admiring her work, before nodding with a smile.
“Beautiful,” James said.
“Thanks,” she giggled, “Even though you messed it up!” he laughed too as she shoved against his shoulder.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he chuckled.
“Uh-huh,” she stood and wiped her hands on her apron, “Sure you are,”
He watched quietly as she cleaned up the studio, putting away tools and moving the wheel out of the way and set the vase on a shelf to dry. She walked around the shop barefoot while she straightened chairs and wiped off tables. She slipped her apron over her head and put it on a hook behind the front desk before sliding her feet into her shoes and tugging on her jacket, preparing to brave the chilly fall night in New York.
Bucky laughed as she wrapped a scarf around her neck and covered her nose and mouth, “You look ready to go out in a blizzard,”
“I hate the cold,” she mumbled through the fabric. He laughed a little harder and her eyes showed the smile that the scarf hid.
“Can I walk you home?” he asked. It was almost midnight and he didn’t like the idea of her being alone.
She pulled the scarf down from over her mouth and smiled, “You don’t have to… It’s just a couple blocks up the road,”
“But I want to,” he explained as he held his right arm out to her.
The smiled that laid across her lips was shy, it was a smile he hadn’t seen on her before. She looped her arm through his after locking the door and they started down the dim sidewalk. Growling against the icy breeze, she shivered.
He looked down at her with a smirk, “You’ll get used to it,”
“Doubt it,” she grumbled, “It’s almost making me miss the blistering heat in Georgia,”
When they made it to the door of her apartment building she wrapped him in a tight hug, taking him off guard. He hesitated only for a moment before hugging her back. She stepped away with that shy grin again.
“Thanks for walking me home,” she said quietly. Then, she quickly stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, darting into the building before he could respond.
Shoving his hands in his pockets he made his way back to the tower with a smug grin on his face. It was still there when he walked into the common area where a few of the others were still awake, taping away at computers or watching TV.
“What’s that look about?” Clint drew attention to the lazily pleased smile on the hardened assassin’s lips.
“You followed her again, didn’t you?” Natasha didn’t look up from her work as she smirked.
“No!” Bucky denied quickly.
“Creep,” she muttered, earning a glare from him.
“You know, if you looked your age you would very quickly get arrested for following her all the time,” Clint joked.
“Shut up,” Bucky complained as he chucked a coffee mug at him from the kitchen, Clint caught it easily from his spot sitting on the floor by Nat’s feet, he was leaning back against the couch.
Natasha started singing playfully, adding their names to a children’s song, “… sitting in a tree. K-i-s-s-i-n-g,”
Bucky groaned and rolled his eyes, “You guys suck,” he made his way to the hall to his room, “I’m going to bed,”
“Sweet dreams, lover boy!” Natasha and Clint could be heard giggling from all the way down the hall.
The next morning the news had been spread through the team and in the common area there was an enthusiastic discussion.
“How did you not know she co-owned a pottery studio?” Natasha asked Bucky, “Some spy you are…”
“Co-owns with who?” Tony asked from the kitchen.
“One of her friends,” Clint explained.
“I didn’t know she had friends!” Tony replied.
“Who doesn’t have friends?” she walked into the room and the laughing and teasing stopped abruptly.
“You! I must not be keeping you busy enough if you have time for pottery and friends!” Tony brought her usual morning coffee to the table for her.
She turned to where James stood with his back leaned on the wall and she raised one eyebrow.
“I told them about the studio.” Natasha spoke to save Bucky from the blame before mouthing, “You owe me!’ across the room to him.
That seemed to satisfy her silent questions, “Oh, yeah,” she played it off as nothing as she took a sip from her coffee, “I’m barely there anymore. Too busy trying to keep up with superheroes,”
It was her first full day with them back and she looked around the room at her friends. She had seen all of their tired faces the day before right when they got back, she was present for the debriefing and assigned to take notes, but now they seemed more rested. Bucky and Steve were remarkably more healed than the day before. Clint was apparently unable to stay at his preferred distance because his face and knuckles showed the signs of a close fight. Natasha had a busted lip and her knee was braced, raised, and had a bag of ice resting on it. Bruce looked exhausted, tiny scratches littered his body, probably from glass.
Bucky noticed her mentally checking them all, making sure they were all intact. She looked back to him and he nodded with a soft smile and mouthed, “We’re ok,” She returned the nod with a cleansing sigh.
And it went that way for a while. The team would return from a mission, she would go to the studio late at night, and Bucky would sneak in about an hour after she got there. He would keep her company, reassuring her that the mission was smooth, or playing jazz and singing along. Sometimes he’d try his luck at the pottery wheel, but the wet clay would get stuck in the crevices of his left hand, so he decided to resign himself to helping other ways. He always walked her home; she always kissed his cheek after wishing him goodnight.
On the front steps of her apartment building on a snowy night, she stopped halfway up the steps and turned back, “Do… Do you wanna come in?” She asked softly, almost drowned out by the sound of cars driving through slush.
An uncharacteristically wide smile lit up his face, “Yeah, I’d love to,” he closed the distance and matched her pace up the steps and down the hall to the elevator.
She pressed the button labeled ‘14’ and it lit up orange before it began moving. Once inside her little apartment, she started peeling away layers of sweaters and gloves. Bucky chuckled as she stacked everything on a chair near the door.
“Shut up,” she laughed too as she slipped her shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink? I think I’m going to make some hot cocoa,”
“That sounds good,” he followed her further into the small place. She made her way to the kitchen as he got distracted wandering around her living room, looking at pictures scattered around the walls and book shelves. Her smiling face in exotic places. Snapshots of the team. Selfies with Natasha. Photos of her family and her childhood home. A few were placed on a small table beside the couch, and among those was a beautifully shot picture of Bucky. It was from a mission, they’d set up camp and he was sitting on his own at a wood table with a book laid out in front of him. He looked intensely focused on his work, holding his pencil in hand.
“Do you remember what you were drawing?” she asked as she turned on the stereo to play softly. A therapist had suggested drawing to focus his mind on other things.
‘You,’ he thought before speaking, “Uh, yeah, kinda,”
She handed him a warm mug as he turned to wander back to the book shelf, “That’s my mom,” she said softly pointing to a photo, “And this was the field out behind our house. In the summer it’d get real tall and my sister and I would walk far out with a blanket and sit and hide, ‘cause once you’d sit out there nobody could see you,” the picture was two little girls running away from the camera hand in hand. He watched her eyes as she looked over the photographs. With only one lamp lit in the room, the moonlight through the window to his right seemed very bright, giving her eyes a pale blue light.
She looked up, catching him watching, but he didn’t look away, only smiled. Setting her mug on the shelf she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him with a sigh.
“I don’t know how to thank you for checking on me at the studio as much as you do,” her voice was muffled in his sweater.
He cradled the back of her head to his chest with his free hand and kissed the top of her hair, “The goodnight kisses have always been enough for me,” he whispered.
They stood that way for a while and his eyes looked over the pictures by the couch again. One in the middle caught his attention the most; it was a collage of pictures in a single frame. She had been teaching him how to take selfies and what they were.
~~~
“Now you just smile, or make silly faces, or… whatever!” she held the phone up in front of them and tilted her head on his shoulder before snapping a picture.
“But… why?” he asked.
“Well, lots of reasons. Some people think it’s vain, but it can help people too. Like, with depression, making yourself smile for a bunch of pictures and then looking at your own smiling face can actually help hormones in the brain. And for some people, it’s reassuring to have a picture to look back at… to remember the moment and be able to imagine themselves there again,” she explained. She nudged his shoulder with hers, “Now, take pictures with me!”
~~~
And that’s where the collage came from, she had picked about a dozen of them and organized them together. The one in the middle was his favorite; her head on his shoulder, smiling softly… but he wasn’t even looking at the camera, he was looking down at her with a small smile of his own. And she was right, it was great for memories, because he could put himself right back in that moment by just looking at the pictures.
She turned her head up to look at him with a tired smile, “Whatcha lookin’ at?”
“Our selfies,” he grinned, “From that morning in South Africa?”
She hummed happily, resting her cheek on his shoulder again, “I remember,”
“I love yo…” the words came out before he could stop them, and he saved it quickly, “Y-your pictures,”
She couldn’t help but giggle at the awkward pause as she looked up at him again. As her eyes met his, her smile faded slightly as she became a little more serious, “Why do you like them so much?” she whispered.
His eyes flicked between her lips and her stare as he battled with his will-power. Her face inched closer to his as he leaned forward at the same time.
A smile curled at the corners of his lips as they brushed against hers when he spoke, “Because the girl in the pictures makes me feel human again,”
With that she was done. Done letting him squirm with the same desire she felt. She closed the miniscule distance, pressing her soft lips against his gently and lacing her fingers behind his neck to hold him closely. With one hand in her hair and the other pressed against the small of her back, he pulled her body flat against his as she whimpered quietly.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she groaned into his hair as his mouth traveled to her neck.
“Why’s that?” his voice was low and rough against her skin.
“We work together,”
“I’ll quit first thing tomorrow,” he whispered before gently biting at her throat.
“You’ll quit?” she scoffed pulling back slightly.
“I’ll call right now, I don’t care if its midnight,”
She shook her head with a laugh, “You’d quit to get laid?”
“No,” he smiled, bringing his hands up to cup her face, “I’d quit if I get to have you,”
She sighed, almost inaudible, “Oh, what the hell,” with that she brought her lips back to his with more passion than before.
He moaned into the kiss, pulling at her hips and shirt, doing anything he could to get closer to her. He turned to press her into the wall by the bookcase and her hands tangled in his hair. Placing his hands under her thighs he lifted her and hooked her legs round his waist as he carried her to the couch, turning to sit with her in his lap. As soon as they sat, she pulled her shirt over her head and helped him do the same.
“Goddamn, you’re incredible,” he groaned before moving to kiss her shoulder as he slowly lowered her bra straps.
“Right back at ya,” her reply came in a breathless whisper. He pressed a smile laced kiss to her lips as he unclasped her bra before tossing it aside and leaning back to look at her.
His hands slid up her sides slowly to cup the sides of her breasts, “Absolutely incredible,” his thumbs circled her already hardened nipples. A moan slipped from her lips as she arched, pressing her chest more fully into his hands. She bit her lip to stifle her sounds.
“No,” he whispered, bringing a hand to her face and tracing her lips with his thumb, “I like your noises, I want to hear them,”
She kissed his thumb, then the palm of his hand, “But my neighbors probably don’t,” she smiled before slowly dragging her tongue along his thumb and taking it slightly between her lips.
“Fuck them,” he growled before leaning forward to catch her lips with his.
“Actually, I was hoping you’d fuck me,” she grinned mischievously.
“Oh god,” he groaned under his breath, “You’re damn perfect,”
She grinned and rolled her body against his, grinding down and pressing herself into his warm strong chest. Pulling her hips as tight against his as he could, she captured his lips again. No matter how strongly and roughly he wanted to take her right then, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He went slow, worshiping her lips and body. Covering every inch of her skin that he could reach with searing kisses. Every kiss against her soft skin made his lips tingle and his body burn to be closer. Her skin was hot with the desire to have every bit of him that she could.
He turned, placing her sitting on the couch and kneeling on the floor in front of her. Slowly, he unbuttoned her jeans while placing feather-light kisses along her stomach before slipping her jeans and panties down together. He nipped and kissed every new inch of skin revealed and then came back to smile up at her while his thumbs traced slowly along her hips. Pulling her hips closer to the edge of the seat, his hot breath ghosted along her already burning thighs. He pressed his lips into the dip her thighs made where they met her body on either side of her center before placing a gentle kiss to her folds as she sighed. He traced his fingers along her slit as he admired the slick silky warmth on his fingers and the way she glistened in the dim light. His eyes glanced up as he slowly caressed her heat with the tip of his tongue. Watching as her head fell back with her eyes pinched shut as high-pitched whimpers formed in her throat.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” he purred between agonizingly slow licks, “Let me hear you,”
“Oh, James,” with one hand she wound her fingers in his hair and with the other she laced her fingers through his, squeezing his hand as he squeezed back.
Carefully, he made her come undone, hair in a messy halo around her head from his fingers earlier. She rocked rhythmically into his blissful mouth as his heavenly tongue brought her closer and closer to the release she’d been craving from him all night.
“If you’re not… If you’re not careful… I – I – I’m gunna make a mess,” she panted.
“I’ll clean you up darlin’, now, come for me babe,” he rasped as he locked his lips around her, flicking his tongue perfectly.
As she fell into her bliss, her moans got higher and louder until she was chanting and practically screaming his name. Little spurts of hot fluid hit his tongue and dribbled down his chin and he smiled as he slowed down to match her declining release. He was the first to bring her to the peak with only his magical tongue.
“You squirt,” he stated with a smile, raising one eyebrow.
Her face flushed as she dropped her eyes. It made her self-conscious, some guys thought she was peeing, but it didn’t smell and it didn’t happen with every orgasm. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be,” he sat up to kiss her softly, her taste still on his lips, “I like it… it’s a good sign I’m doing my job,” he smirked and she pushed his shoulders back so she could stand on shaky legs, grabbing his hand and pulling him along behind her.
“Bedroom, now. Pants off,” she demanded.
Once inside the bedroom he spun her around to face him and kissed her deeply, “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered against her lips as he worked off his belt, walking her backwards until she fell back onto the bed. He slid out of his jeans and boxer-briefs before climbing over her, sliding up her body and leaving a trail of hot kisses up to her mouth. He hooked her legs around his hips and an arm around her back and crawled up the bed to rest her head in the pillows.
“We can stop if you want,” he muttered against her lips, his hard length very prominent against her thighs.
“James Barnes, I swear to god, if you stop now,” she growled but he silenced her with another hot kiss as he easily slid into her. She moaned lowly against his lips.
He set a sensually slow pace, rolling his body against hers and holding her as close as possible. Her nails pressed into his back as she arched into him. He wanted to melt into her and love every atom of her being. Gently, his hands roamed her body leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“So beautiful,” he panted into her hair as he dropped his head to her shoulder, “Wet and tight. So perfect,”
With every whisper of praise and endearment her whimpers grew higher until her legs were spasming with ecstasy. Her hoarse moaning voice calling his name right in his ear drew him over to join in the ultimate pleasure. Panting heavily, he collapsed into her and she continued to hold him tightly. Weak after moans occasionally crept through her voice. After catching their breath, he remained in her embrace as she trailed her fingers lightly across the heated skin of his back and arm. He hummed contentedly with his nose pressed against her neck when she turned to kiss his forehead. He shifted to one side of her body, ghosting his fingers up and down her arm.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to be with you,” he whispered against her shoulder, lips brushing her skin.
“Well, if it’s anything like as long as I have, then I’m a little sad we waited so long,” she felt him smile against her shoulder as he pressed his lips against her more firmly in a kiss.
They laid in silence a while, listening to heartbeats and slowing breaths. Memorizing the feel of each other’s body against theirs.
Finally he spoke as they were both drifting to sleep, “You really are and incredible woman,”