#TFATWS fiction

[eufezco]

BUCKY'S SECOND FIRST TIME

bucky x fem!reader (smut with plot) no use of y/n

All of this... Bucky hadn't had time to think about when it would happen again, he didn't even think it would ever happen again. He didn't even think deserve to have that kind of intimacy with anyone, didn't think that anyone would want to be in that situation with him.

It's been decades and now his head was full of bizarre thoughts. He had nightmares every time he tried to get some sleep, so the idea of spending the night with somebody was completely out of the table. He was witnessing a complete stranger take over his friend's shield and identity. He had not crossed a name off his list of amends for weeks, he had not answered any of Sam's messages and his psychologist was putting more and more pressure on him.

But in all that chaos there was you who always showed him a kind smile, who always asked him how his day was when you saw him come into the bar, exhausted. You who had his favorite drink ready before he arrived and who looked at him with hearty eyes. You thought you were being too obvious but it had been so long since anyone had looked at him that way that he didn't even notice it.

The day he took Sam to your bar was when he realized, and not even on his own. You were thrilled that he finally introduced you to one of his friends (his only friend in fact) and Sam was so funny and he was always picking on Bucky which made their dynamic even more fun to watch. They arrived almost at closing time so it was just the three of you. That night you ended up closing two hours later, inviting them for a few beers and being walked home by the two of them since it was already very late at night.

—Dude, she's so into you —. Sam huffed a laugh while they walked back from your house.

Bucky arched his eyebrows in surprise and then frowned. —What?

—Oh come on, you gonna tell me you haven't noticed?

Bucky was getting more and more confused. —Noticed what?

Sam stopped on his feet and looked at Bucky in surprise. —Steve told me you used to be a heartthrob back in the day.

—Yeah, back in the day. When I was seventy years younger.

Sam rolled his eyes. —Two things. First, as much as I hate to admit it, you don't look a hundred and seven, and second, I can assure you that this girl is head over heels for you. —Bucky was silent, thinking, so Sam spoke again. —Ask her on a date.

So yes, he asked you out on a date. Well, if inviting you to his house for a drink could be considered a date. He didn't like to be seen in public places too much and fancy restaurants didn't go with him, so while he thought of something better for the second date, his house would work for this time. Bucky shook his head as he found himself thinking about a second date.

Bucky always tried to keep everything tidy, clutter annoyed him and made him even grumpier. But now as he let you walk into his house first he realized how empty it was. He barely had any furniture, only one chair, a small sofa, and a TV. He hadn't even bothered to buy a bed because he slept on the floor. He wondered what was going through your head when you saw his home.

—This is nice —. You stated. At first, you didn't realize how empty his apartment was, you were just appreciating that he had trusted you enough to take you to a place as private and intimate as his home. Then you did notice that some things were missing but you assumed that's all he needed.

Bucky was relieved when he heard those three words come out of your mouth.

You noticed how he kept his jacket and gloves on while he took out two glasses to pour you a drink. Whenever he came home the first thing he did was to take those two things off but with you there, it was different yet when he thought about it, he realized that it was fair that you knew and ran away if you wanted to. So when he caught you looking curious, he first got rid of his gloves, and you could already see the metallic fingers of his hand. Then he took off his jacket, revealing how the metal shaped his left arm.

—You're not going to ask about it? —Bucky thought he was getting ahead of you, saving you from the awkward moment of asking about what happened to him. He poured some liquor in the glasses.

—Do you want to be asked about it?

Bucky looked at you and shook his head. You nodded, understanding his decission. You figured he wouldn't want to talk about it, much less on a first date. Your question caught him off guard yet his answer came almost automatically. He didn't want to talk about it and it was the first time he had been given the option of not doing so.

The rest of the night went great. Bucky was very interested in everything you said. He didn't talk much yet you managed to get some information about him. He had a sister, his favorite fruit was plums, he enjoyed 40s music, and he was a cat person. Every time he told you something about himself, no matter how irrelevant it seemed, you found it fascinating.

You noticed that he was very observant, his icy blue eyes never stopped looking at you for a second. You found it cute, intimidating at times not knowing what thoughts went with those long, intense stares. His eyes were beautiful, captivating, so you could tell every time he broke eye contact to divert his gaze to your lips and then back to your eyes.

Each was on one side of his kitchen island, that way you could look at each other's faces while talking. You were leaning more and more on the table that separated you, taking advantage of the moments of laughter to get closer to each other until that way you kissed him.

At first, you felt him a little stiff even though the sigh that he had let out when you had finally kissed his lips told you otherwise. You parted ways. —Is this okay?

Bucky nodded and immediately after, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours again. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone that he didn't know if his lip movements were being too clumsy, if the clash of his teeth with yours was bothering you, or if his tongue slipping past your lips was okay. He did not know how to control his breathing that's why he let out little moans against your mouth, trying to catch his breath without having to leave your lips.

He felt like a teenager again. The tingling sensation in his lower abdomen made him want to run away and hide but at the same time did not want to part from your lips for anything in the world. He was afraid of the way you made him feel but at the same time he didn't want that feeling to ever go away.

Didn't know how or when but he ended up sitting on his couch with you on his lap. Your lips and his had come into perfect synchrony and the kiss was getting deeper and wetter. Oh God and he wasn't gonna complain. Your hands were pulling from the root of his hair, your hips rolled subtly against his crotch, his right hand was resting on your hips. Bucky felt how his jeans tightened right where you were sitting.

Bucky tried to keep his left arm away from you, holding your body on top of his just using his right one. He was aware that the touch of the metal was not the most pleasant in the world. It wasn't soft, it wasn't warm, it was nothing like a flesh-and-blood hand.

—It's okay. You can touch me, James —. You moaned against his mouth. Yet he was still a bit reluctant to do so.

In the end, you would have to be the one to gently grab his metal arm and guide his hand to your waist. You kept your hand on top of his metal one while pressing down so he could hold you as tight as he was doing with his other hand, also to assure him that it was okay. You moved your hand from him once you felt his metallic fingers carefully close and grip your body. You smiled in the middle of the kiss, the firm grip of both of his hands encouraged you to grind harder against his crotch.

You pulled his t-shirt over his head and allowed your fingers to travel down his abs until you reached the button and zipper on his jeans. Bucky hissed at the sudden contact and held your hips tighter.

—Wait —. Bucky said against your lips. He pulled away and you were afraid that you had done something wrong. All you had to do was pull down the zipper, but your hands immediately stopped what they were doing when he spoke. You ran your tongue over your lower lip, already missing Bucky's, and you noticed how pink and swollen his were. —It's been a long time since I —. He confessed.

—Oh. —You said in a sigh. —We can't stop if you—

—No. I just— I just wanted you to know. —Bucky groaned. —I'm sorry. I've ruined it. —He let his head fall on your shoulder.

You giggled and you brought your hands to his cheeks so that he would raise his head and look at you. —It's okay, James. You've not ruined anything. I'm glad you've told me. —You gave a quick peck to his lips. —I was just saying that if you want to stop or need to slow down I'm okay with that.

—I don't want to stop.

—Good. Me neither.

And Bucky crashed his lips against yours again. You finished what you started and unzipped his jeans while he pulled from the hem of your shirt and threw it away. Bucky cursed and brought his mouth to the skin of your breasts, using his lips to suck and kiss on it and his teeth for small bites. You moaned and pulled harder from his hair, making him groan. His hands wasted no time and right after they were unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans while his mouth left a trail of kisses from your boobs to your neck and collarbone until he reached your mouth again.

Your lifted your hips from his lap so your hand could sneak inside his underwear. Bucky did the same with your panties. Your fingers wrapped around his hard dick and Bucky's found their way to your clit. You moaned and closed your eyes shut when he started rubbing your bundle of nerves and Bucky's lips parted and let out all the air that he had in his lungs when your hand moved painfully slow from the tip of his cock to the base of it.

You pressed your foreheads together. Your thighs closed around his hand but he continued drawing circles on your clit and his mouth reached for your lips again. Bucky's hips thrust into your fist while some of his moans died in your mouth. He felt a wave of heat running through his body and that sweet knot formed in his lower belly.

—I need you inside, please —You whined.

You didn't have to beg anymore. You moved from his lap so you both could get rid of your jeans and underwear. You straddled him again, using your hands on his shoulders for stability when your fingers brushed the scarred skin that connected with the metal of his arm.

You noticed the worried expression on his face. He was looking at you with his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for a reaction from you. A reaction of disgust. He could feel his chest rise and fall slowly because of his deep breathing and he was wondering what was going on in your head at the time.

You pressed your lips against his one more time, your hands moved to cup both of his cheeks. —It's okay. Just focus on me —. You mumbled into his mouth and he hummed in response.

Without stopping kissing him, your hands began to travel down. First his neck, then his broad shoulders, feeling again those scars he was so insecure about, and then his arms. His right one was strong, with perfectly defined muscles and the softest skin. His left one was cold and hard, not at all unpleasant to the touch. Your lips moving on his kept Bucky from overthinking.

He gasped when you reached his well-defined abdomen. You would have spent the whole night caressing and feeling his body under your fingertips but you were getting impatient. Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock to line it up at your entrance and gently lowered yourself. Bucky's mouth opened in a perfect "O" form as he gripped your waist tightly. You had to wait a few seconds to get used to the sensation before you started moving, he needed those seconds as well to get used to your tight walls squeezing him.

You started by rolling your hips against his, it was the best way to adjust to his size. Despite how wet you were you could feel that sweet sting caused by his width. You rested your forehead against his, you both were panting when you began to lift your hips and drop them back onto his cock. The sounds that came out of his mouth were music to your ears, the grunts coming directly from his chest made you vibrate.

You hugged him to feel him even closer. Bucky tried to hold on as hard as he could, he kissed your shoulder and softly sank his teeth into your skin there, getting a whine from you, but it was too much. Every time he felt his dick going fully inside you, the knot on his stomach became tighter, every time he heard you moaning his name in his ear he did his best to last a little bit longer but in the end, he found it impossible.

Bucky emptied himself inside you while he dropped his forehead on your shoulder and apologized for coming so quickly. —Don't worry. We have all night —. You played with the hair on the back of his head and allowed him to come back from his high.

And you spent the whole night until you heard the birds chirping. The stamina he had thanks to the super soldier serum was truly something else and he made it up to you until you felt completely disconnected from your own body and Bucky had to snuggle you next to him on the couch to let you sleep.

Bucky didn't sleep that night. He was afraid that if he did, he'd hurt you or scare you with his nightmares so he stayed awake all night, but he didn't mind either. He had his right arm around you and he held you against his body, your head was on his chest as well as one of your hands. He felt the warmth of your naked body against his under the blanket.

[tom-whore-dleston]

Bed Chem

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f. reader

Word Count: 541

This fic contains: smut, pwp, fwb dynamic, spanking, lingerie, Bucky has different sides in bed, light choking, hair pulling

Summary: Being fwb with Bucky has amazing benefits.

Notes: look, after the release of the teaser trailer of Thunderbolts*, I’ve been feral for Bucky okay 🫣 I couldn’t think of a good title for this fic so I settled for my fave Sabrina Carpenter song lol This is my submission for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt: Change in Tone.

You and Bucky had a different kind of relationship. You weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but you were both more than friends. For lack of a better term, you and Bucky were friends with benefits. And those benefits were the best terms you both agreed on.

Every time you had sex with Bucky, it was a different experience. Sometimes, his touches would be gentle and feather-like. Other times, his hands would be rougher and he’d grip you tighter in a possessive manner. Then, there was his voice. During his more tender moments, his voice was smooth like whiskey. On the flip side, when he was a little more aggressive with you, his voice was lower and animalistic. Bucky’s range in the bedroom taught you that sex wasn’t a performance but rather an experience. And each time you both ended speechless and satisfied.

In this current situation, you found yourself on all fours on top of Bucky’s bed wearing in a sheer lingerie one-piece. Bucky stood by the bed, admiring your backside with a smirk that you couldn’t see from your position, but could still sense. Bucky wore a crisp white shirt with the buttons done enough to get a peek of his chest hair and sculpted pecs. If you had seen how his sleeves were rolled enough to reveal his forearms, you would have melted into the bed sheets without him having to touch you.

You feel the bed creak under your hands and knees and suddenly Bucky’s bulge is right against your thigh. His fingers ghost above your spine, sending chills down to your cunt. Your breath hitched as you craved to feel his fingers down where your sensations were traveling to. All of a sudden, a hand crashes down on your ass, causing you to yelp in shock. Bucky chuckled, soothing the sting with his palm.

“Tell me what you want, darling, and I’ll give you that.” Bucky muttered, his lips dangerously close to your earlobe, his favorite part to tease.

“I want…you,” you gasped. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough for Bucky.

“How do you want it?” His vibranium hand sensually traces the curves of your body. “Do you want it soft and sweet?” He places a kiss on the back of your shoulder, causing you to smile and bite your lip. A moment later, that same hand yanks you by the hair, pressing your back flat against his chest. “Or would you like it hard and rough?”

You were unable to conjure words. Only a broken moan left your vocal cords. Bucky’s flesh hand cupped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. You gulped before Bucky smashed his lips against yours with fervor. His grip on your hair tightened as his teeth grazed your bottom lip. He let go of you once you attempted to grind against his hardness.

Bucky pushed you back down on the bed, your face in the pillow and your ass waving in the air. He unleashed a feral growl as he hurriedly unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down. The tip of his cock teased your entrance, making your voice drip with need like your pussy.

“I’ll give you what you want, darling, but I’ll give it to you how I want it.”

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[tllgrrl]

Checking In… by @tllgrrl aka Nefertiri Jones

Relationship: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson | Rated: SFW | -500 Words

Characters: Bucky Barnes-Winter Soldier/White Wolf . Alexi Shostakovich-Red Guardian . Yelena Belova-Black Widow . John Walker-US Agent . Ava Starr-Ghost . Sara Wilson (mentioned)

* * * * * * * * *. *

“Hey, Sarah. Yeah…I’m okay. Nah, I’m fine. I—what? No, you’re fine. Fine as…never mind. Don’t get me started. I’m not exactly alone right now.“

Alexi tilts forward and whispers, “Yasha has a girlfriend!?”

Yelena raises an eyebrow, tilts in, “He and Captain America’s sister Sarah Wilson are Doing It.”

“What?” Walker all but yells. “Really?! Sam’s sister? Wow! Say, did you know my wife is—“

“Yes,” the others say simultaneously, in various tones of utter exasperation. “We all know.”

“Hey!” Bucky throws daggers at them with his eyes. “Pipe down.” He wishes he could throw actual daggers. He has more than enough knives on his person for each one of them, but he maintains a cool demeanor on the phone.

“So,” he continues, lowering his voice and turning his back for more privacy, “about Christmas. I…I might be kinda late getting back. No. Just some idiots I gotta take care of here. I’ll call you later tonight if I can. Hug the boys for me, okay? Ndiyakuthanda.”

“Aww!” Ava practically squeaks. “I don’t speak Xhosa, but I know what that means.”

“I’ve seen pictures of Sarah Wilson,” Alexi smiles and nods approvingly. “Good choice, Yasha. Beautiful woman. Nice frame. Almost as nice as your mother’s, Yelena. A good, sturdy woman, your mother. Ahhhh, the way she fills out her blue jeans is—“

Yelena’s chin drops to her chest. “Oh my god, Dad! Stop!!” If her hands had been untied, she would have buried her face in them…after using them to choke him out.

“What!?! Am I wrong?”

“Hey, Bucky,” Walker says brightly, “We do have something in common. We both have—“

“No.” He pockets his phone and feels the hilt of the knife in his shoulder holster.

“Okay, pal,” Walker grins. “I mean, we—“

“We’re not the same,” Bucky growls and stalks away. “If Val doesn’t call back soon, I swear ta God…”

* * * * *

@fleurdelouvemonth 2024: SarahBucky Bingo - “Free Space”.

The photo is from Entertainment Weekly’s preview of THUNDERBOLTS* and shows Alexi, Yelena, Walker and Ava tied up, and Bucky is on his cellphone while watching them.

Thank you @khululekile for inspiring me to finish this little drabble as we laughed about Walker trying to bond with Bucky over their wives, and Bucky wanting no part of that conversation, especially with the likes of him.

* * * * * * * * * *

Fleurdelouve Month 2024 | SarahBucky Bingo

[melles1276]

New chapter is online!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56470924/chapters/158510032

Excerpt:

Chapter 21 - It's not over yet

Ahmad’s back and enters the hut unnoticed by Steve. It’s only when the man kneels next to him that he becomes aware of his presence. While he says a few words to Bucky in Dari, he holds a long-stemmed, slim pipe to Bucky’s lips, the tobacco already burning in the bowl.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks irritably and is about to take the pipe from Ahmad. They don't have time for things like that. Instead, he tries to hold Bucky tightly, but the sobbing man keeps tossing and turning away from his embrace in pain. If he hadn't stopped him, Bucky probably would have fallen out of bed.

But Ahmad shakes his head firmly and raises his index finger in warning. Additionally, he gives Steve a stern look and scolds him in his native language. Undeterred, he continues to talk to Bucky, this time supported by Jamila.

“Please… make it… stop! Please!” There are these sonorous voices that hold him back. Pulling him down. That envelopes him, grounds him. He knows these voices. Trusts them. And he feels something on his lips.

“That’s no use,” grumbles Steve.

The old man doesn't let up and talks to Bucky, encouraging him to take a puff on his pipe. As with the broth, it takes Bucky several tries, but he finally manages to inhale the smoke.

To Steve’s amazement, Bucky complies and inhales the smoke as best he can before he starts coughing and exhaling it through his mouth and nose. Over and over again.

A few minutes of waiting passes, which Jamila bridges with a prayer.

And something else catches his eyes. Just a moment ago, Bucky had almost crushed Steve's hand. Now it’s as if all the strength is gone. Bucky's hand, no, his entire body, goes limp and his head rolls to the side.

The blackness is pushed back. Not completely, but the bright, warm light expands more and more, envelopes him, and makes him float. It feels good. Really good. He feels safe. His body rises upwards as his hand falls weakly down.

"No no no no! Don't do this to me now, Bucky! Please!” He frantically pats Bucky’s cheeks and reflexively feels for his pulse. A wave of relief washes over him after he feels Bucky's heartbeat under his fingertips and he looks at Ahmad.

The man looks serious but satisfied because he nods at him.

Frowning, his gaze goes back to Bucky. What the …?! , Steve is peeved until he realizes what the old man wanted to achieve with the pipe. The aroma of the smoke lulls him. Drugs!, flashes through his head. And by all accounts, it’s really good stuff, because Bucky actually seems...high as a kite. His eyes are glassy, but his breathing is no longer quite so ragged, his facial features are more relaxed, although still slightly distorted with pain. Overall, the changes are clearly visible, but Steve becomes increasingly aware of the seriousness of the situation.

Bucky mutters incomprehensible syllables quietly to himself, seeming so incredibly fragile.

Steve still holds him in his arms, but he can feel how little by little all the strength drains from the man’s limbs. A deeply sad sigh escapes his own lips. His emotions rush over him, while he buries his face in Bucky's hair, sobbing, because he’s sure his friend won't survive the next few hours.

[annikityk]

I also low-key have a headcanon that Bucky is actually rich in the present due to some investments in the 40s, so whenever Zemo tries to impress him with his wellness, Bucky's just "been there done that"

[violetmuses]

Hot Take 🔥

If Bucky and Sarah aren't OFFICIALLY viewed as a couple by the time Cap 4 is released, I'm leaving the theater. 🎟

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

I missed bucky’s birthday and I’m kinda upset with myself about it idk why

[queen-daya]

Happy Birthday Sam Wilson! (April 14, 1975)

[transexualpirate]

people comparing john walker straight up murdering an unarmed defenseless person and being treated as a bad guy because of it to steve disarming tony to defend himself (and bucky) and leaving him there alone but also being treated as a bad guy because of it is like. my 14th reason. one of these things is not like the other. one of these guys actually brutally and violently murdered someone and the other just got up and left. how can you actually think these are comparable

[bigbadripley]

Hiiiii can you write a Sam x fem reader where it's sam's birthday and he isn't with his family so he's sad and reader wants to cheer him up

Sad? On Your B-Day?

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader (Feat. Platonic!Bucky)

Warnings: No use of y/n, established relationship

Words: 517

Title from "DR. WHOEVER" by Aminé

"Happy Birthday!" You shouted, throwing your arms in the air as Sam entered the kitchen. He smiled with his lips but not his eyes as he sat at the breakfast bar. 

"Thank you, sugar, but I already told you I didn't want to celebrate this year." He said with a bummed tone. You placed your elbows on the bar and rested your chin in your palms, prompting him to look at you. His eyes were dark and dull, not a single shimmer in sight.

"And I told you that's too damn bad," You replied. "You don't get to age around me and expect me to leave you alone."

Usually, Sam would laugh at your stubbornness, but he kept his gloomy expression. It wasn't like him to act this way. You cocked your head at him, trying to gather what could be wrong from his eyes, but you weren't getting much. "What's troubling you, my love?"

Sam exhaled heavily before he responded, leaning back on the stool and crossing his arms over his chest. "Just hate not celebrating with my nephews. They facetimed me, but... I dunno." He explained the best he could. "It's not the same."

It all made sense now and caused you to frown, knowing he was sad on his big day. For as long as you've known Sam, he always made time for his family on his birthday, but after returning from a mission the day before, he didn't have time to return to Louisiana. 

You realized it was up to you to make this birthday special for him, so you called Bucky to explain the issue. He arrived within the hour and had picked up a few things from the drugstore party section. 

"Smells like cake in here," Bucky said upon entering. You nodded,

"Devil's food. Just pulled it out." 

You noticed he was carrying a balloon with Sam's face on it, dawning the Captain America getup, and couldn't help but burst out laughing. "That's your idea of cheering Sam up?" 

The loud chuckle erupting from your chest caused Sam to enter the room again, spotting his giant floating balloon head the second he stepped in from the bedroom. "Aw, what the hell is that, Buck?"

"It's true to size," Bucky answered, pulling the string between his fingers to the edge of the balloon and holding it next to Sam's head for comparison. "Happy birthday." 

Sam tried his best to hold back his laugh, face clearly contorting to keep his stoic expression in response to the joke. You motioned for him to come to you, and he did, snaking his arm around your waist upon arrival. He looked at the unfrosted cake, and the smile he was hiding peeked through again. 

"Sam Wilson, if you don't smile for me-" 

"Thank you, baby." Sam cut off your fake irritation and pulled you closer to his side, hunching slightly to kiss you. In the kiss, you felt the smile. As you pulled away, you saw the toothy grin and met it with your own. 

"I won't have to give you a birthday spanking after all."

[eufezco]

A FRESH START 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

synopsis — after leaving wakanda, bucky starts to rediscover who he is while living with you, slowly bulding a new life. his dispair deepens and you offer him a fresh start with a simple act: cutting his hair.

angst. fluff

—you have to stop thinking that every time something good is happening to you it's because something worse is on the way. that´s not a way to live, buck —. you said softly, your voice steady but with a hint of concern.

bucky shook his head, running a hand over his face as a sign of desperation. if only he could remember what life felt like before hydra took him, before all those wasted years. after so long he was still trying to figure it out, still trying to find a version of himself that didn’t feel like a stranger. trying to get used to his new life in the city, far from the peace he had known in wakanda. all these sudden changes only made him more confused and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to adjust, it was that he didn’t know how.

it had been a almost a year since bucky had moved in with you, since you had defeated thanos and steve had left. when the dora milaje declared him ready to live a normal life, bucky stood there, unsure of what that even meant. he had no place to go. louisiana crossed his mind for a moment, sam had always extended an open invitation but the thought of intruding on sam’s family life stopped him, and steve was gone, something he chose not to think much about, so for the first time in over a century, bucky was truly on his own.

except he wasn’t. you were there.

when you found out he needed a place, you didn’t think about it twice. he resisted at first. ayo told him you were the right person to star building his new life. you trust her, you trust her more than you admit. that is where you begin. trust. she is the right person to help you build this new life, james.

and he couldn't remember what you two had shared before hydra took him, before everything fell apart but there was a pull. by the things steve told him, you three were best friends once, inseparable. he spoke of nights you spent laughing, of how he’d head home early, leaving you and bucky behind, knowing that bucky would arrive later, with a big smile on his lips. steve chuckled when he mentioned your lipstick, smeared on bucky’s mouth when he finally made it back. you never wiped it off, you wore it like a badge of honor.

bucky tried to imagine it, those moments of joy but the memories never came. but he could still feel it. he felt it that day in wakanda, when you arrived with steve and natasha to fight thanos. you smiled at him, just a brief moment in the chaos, but it stayed with him. there was something so familiar about that smile, something warm and he felt it too every time you visited him or sent him what had once been his favorite sweets, little reminders of a life he no longer remembered but somehow still carried with him.

so, he showed up at your door a few days later, a bag hung over his shoulder and a sad look in his eyes. he didn't try to argue this time. —you sure about this?

you didn’t hesitate. —absolutely.

living with bucky was easy. he was quiet, he didn't need much space. after months, he started making it his place too, little by little. he left his shoes by the door beside yours, the book he picked up from one of your shelves appeared on the coffee table, his leather jacket draped over the back of a chair.

—it's not that easy —. he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

you watched him. —i know it’s not, —you said softly, stepping closer to him. —but you don’t have to do it all at once. no one expects that from you.

he shook his head again. —feels like they do, —he said, his blue eyes looking directly into yours. you could see the sadness and the guilt of the moments he couldn’t take back. —feels like every time i mess up, it’s just proof that i don’t belong here. as if this life was not made for me —his voice was low, barely more than a murmur. —what if the only thing i'm good at is killing?

you took a deep breath. it was hard to hear him say that, to see the man you’d known before hydra, who was your best friend and the love of your life, now drowning in self-doubt and guilt. —you’re more than what they made you.

—am i? because that’s all i’ve ever done. all i know how to do.

—but it’s not who you are, it’s what they forced you to be. the fact that you’re even asking this? that you’re fighting to be someone better? that’s proof enough that that wasn't you at all.

he closed his eyes tightly and ran his hands through the long strands of his hair. for a moment, you just stood there, watching him. you wanted to pull him back from whatever dark place his thoughts had taken him, but you hesitated, ayo told you to do so, to let him space to feel this, to fight against it, even if it hurt.

—i can still feel him inside my head, i can hear his thoughts. he's not gone.

bucky’s fingers suddenly grabbed the roots of his hair with a little more force. his breathing grew faster, his hands shook and his eyes squeezed shut. you couldn't see how deep his pain was and not do anything to stop him from hurting himself.

you stepped closer. —bucky, hey… —your hands sneaked into his hair, softly pulling his grip from his scalp. his hands were trembling, and for a moment, there was resistance in him like he wasn’t sure he wanted to let go of the only thing he could hold onto. but your touch was soft, familiar and something shifted, almost imperceptible, but you could feel the tension in him loosen.

—the bucky i knew isn’t gone. he’s still in there. i see him every time you fight for something good, every time you try to make amends, every time you care about the people around you, about me.

his shoulders fell, and his head hung low, he didn’t want you to see him like this, weak and broken. but you had seen him in his darkest moments as the winter soldier and you had experienced thanos taking him away from you with the blip. the years without him had been a painful, you thought you lost him forever. yet there he was, standing before you, alive, and you weren’t about to let him go again.

your hands gently moved to push the back of his head, guiding him to rest his forehead on your shoulder. he was still a bit unsure about how to handle this type of physical contact, used to years of torture, where touch always meant pain, control, or something to fear. now you held him close to your body, his arms hanging limply at his sides.

—why don’t i cut your hair?

—cut my hair?

—yeah, it´ll help you to see yourself in a different way. a fresh start.

bucky pulled back a little, he wasn’t sure if you were joking. —you think cutting my hair will fix everything?

you smiled softly, you wished it could be that easy. —no, —you admitted. —but ayo told your new life will be built on small things.

bucky sighed.

the idea of letting go parts of himself that tied him to the winter soldier felt like a whole world. first, it was his metal arm, the one with the red star, when tony ripped it off of him, bucky felt relieved, like tony was cutting one of the heads of the hydra to end the monster. in wakanda, he learned to live using only his flesh-and-blood arm until they gave him a new one which he only intended to use for good.

and now you were asking to cut his hair.

—ayo did say that, didn’t she? —he murmured, almost to himself.

—she’s a smart woman and besides, it’s just a haircut. if you hate it, it’ll grow back.

a small smile appeared in his lips. —if it ends up bad, i’m blaming you.

you took a chair from the kitchen to the bathroom and he sat down in front of the mirror. bucky stared at his reflection as he pressed his lips into a thin line and sighed. he didn't like mirrors, he avoided them as much as he could. he didn't like the person staring back at him, he didn't know who that man was and now sitting on that chair there was no escape.

there was a difference this time. next to one of the things he most hated to look at—his reflection—was one of the things he liked the most to look at—you.

his blue eyes moved from his reflection to yours. you stood behind him and ran your hands gently through his hair. he felt that familiar tickle in his stomach, the one he first felt almost a century ago and that, even after all the years, it hadn't gone away.

he felt it every morning when you entered the kitchen, hair a mess from sleep, mumbling a soft “good morning” to him. he felt it when he came home in the evenings and dinner was ready and you were sitting at the table, waiting for him. he felt it most when you would fell asleep on the couch and he had to carry you to your bed, careful not to wake you. and you'd ask him in your sleep to stay, and he'd freeze, he wanted to say yes, he wanted to stay. but he couldn’t risk it, his nightmares were still too real. so bucky would gently place you in your bed, making sure you were well tucked in, and whisper, i’ll be in my room, if you need anything.

—are you ready? —you asked him, bringing him back from his thoughts. you already had the scissors in your hand and bucky shifted in the chair at the sight of them. —it'll be okay, buck.

—feels like more than just a haircut.

you nodded, understanding. —well, that's what we wanted, isn't it?

bucky swallowed and nodded.

—why don't you close your eyes? i'll let you know when i'm done.

with a deep breath, he did as you said. your lips curved into a small smile even though he could no longer see you. you were aware of all the progress he had made. you knew he trusted you with his heart because on no other occasion he would willingly keep his eyes closed with someone standing behind him, scissors in hand and when your hands rested on his shoulders, he hadn’t flinched at the contact.

—okay, i'll start.

with his eyes closed it was much easier to feel the delicacy with which you treated him. the way your fingers combed through his scalp and then the sound of the scissors, followed by the sensation of the strands falling and taking with them the weight he had carried for so long. and you talked, about anything that crossed your mid so he did not feel that he was in danger or he had to be alert at any time.

—maybe we could get a cat, —you said. —i think it’d be nice. do you think you’d be a good cat parent?

—maybe —. he said after a pause. —i definitely prefer a cat to a dog.

you switched to the clippers, you left the hair at the top of his head a little longer, while the rest of it was cut shorter. a very chic haircut for someone born in 1917. you carefully checked that his hair was even and then you styled it with your fingers.

—okay, i'm done, you can open your eyes.

bucky hesitated for a moment, then opened his eyes. your breath caught in surprise as you watched him take in the sight of himself. it was like having the bucky you once knew staring right at you through the mirror. his features were the same, just a bit more more defined and mature.

he felt the same relief as when tony ripped off the metal arm that hydra embedded in his body, like a part of him that had once been used against him, now freed. he turned his head slowly to both sides to get a better look and to be honest, he liked his new look. physically, he could see the resemblance to the man in the photos you had shown him, the young soldier who smiled to you, in love.

—how do you feel? i think it suits you —. you asked gently.

bucky nodded. —i like it —. he caught your gaze in the mirror. the eye contact was so intense that you had to look away. you cleared your throat, hoping to ease the tension, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

—alright, come on, —you tapped his shoulder for him to stand up. — i'm going to sweep your hair off the floor.

bucky got up from the chair and turned his head to look at you, not through the mirror this time, but directly, and the sudden closeness made your breath hitch. —thank you for doing this.

—you don't need to thank me, buck. i'm glad it turned out well, it was my first time doing it.

—you sure about that? —he asked—it doesn’t feel like it was your first time.

you laughed, still avoiding his gaze. —guess we got lucky, then.

there was a silence; you were both too close, but not close enough yet. bucky’s eyes moved to your lips for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make your heart race. you could both feel the tension, an invisible string pulling you toward each other, daring one of you to close the gap. you didn’t want to take the first step, you didn’t want to push him into something he wasn’t ready for, the last thing you wanted was to break the fragile trust he’d built with you.

you opened your mouth to say something but he talked first.

—can i kiss you? —his voice was low, almost shy.

you were surprised because you didn't expected him to ask so directly, but consent was so important to him. he spent too many years under someone else’s control, forced into actions that weren’t his own, and now he was determined never to cross those lines. it wasn’t just about asking to kiss you, it was about making sure that you were comfortable, that you wanted this just as much as he did.

—yeah, —you whispered —you can.

bucky stepped closer, his flesh-and-blood hand reaching to cup your cheek, his fingers gently brushing against your skin. he leaned in, his movements careful, giving you every chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you leaned into him instead, your lips finally meeting his.

he felt strange. he had wanted to kiss you for what felt like forever, and now that he had, he wasn’t sure what to do next. his mind raced, trying to remember how this was supposed to go. he forgot about kissing, forgot about the rhythm of it, the give and take. his hand slipped from your cheek to fall awkwardly at his side as he pulled away from your lips just enough just to say:

—i don't... i don't remember how to do this.

—it's okay. you're doing just fine. there’s no right or wrong way. just… follow me.

this time, when your lips met, you moved slowly, guiding him. his tension disappeared as he mirrored your movements, his right hand returned to your cheek, the other, his metal one, moved to hold your hips. it wasn’t perfect, the movements of his lips were still hesitant, but there was something honest about the way he kissed you.

as he kissed you, bucky became more aware of his body and where his hands were and realized that his metal hand was resting lightly on your waist. he pulled the hand away quickly. —i'm sorry, i didn't mean to...

you shook your head, one of your hands flew to the back of his neck to connect your lips while your other one grabbed his vibranium arm and guided his hand to where it was before. as the kiss deepened, you felt him relax, stop worrying about whether he was doing it right or wrong, about the touch of his cold hand on your skin, and he just kissed you.

you hummed before parting ways. his cheeks were flushed, his lips were a bit swollen and glossy, his breathing a little uneven and you couldn't help a little laugh from escaping your lips.

—okay, now you're just laughing at me.

—you're so cute, buck.

[tom-whore-dleston]

the three of them

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f. reader, Joaquin Torres x f. reader, Sam Wilson x f. reader

This fic contains: angst, multiple situationships, implied poly!reader, long distance, implied infidelity, poetry format

Notes: This is my submission for this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial theme: Great Expectations. The dating life is currently all over the place and I just wanted to dump all my feelings towards the relationships I have in a poetic way.

“What do you want?” They ask.

Isn’t it obvious?

You want Bucky.

But you also want Joaquin. 

And then there’s also Sam.

In a perfect world, you would have all three of them. 

Maybe even more if you wanted to.

Your heart is big enough to love them all the same.

Bucky feels a strong connection with you, yet he has Natasha.

It’s so confusing to both you and Bucky.

But Bucky makes you feel oh so good.

More than any other man has in your life.

Joaquin also wants you, but the distance between you both is greater than the yearning you have for one another.

Joaquin admires your artistic abilities and your passions.

He sees himself in you, hence why he loves you the way he does.

Someone said they see why you and Joaquin click.

Because you and Joaquin don’t take life so seriously.

You both know how to have fun and be silly.

You met Sam amongst the storm that is Bucky and Joaquin.

He is a safe haven for you. 

But this safe haven will be shipped off to the other side of the world before you know it. 

You have all this love in your heart that you’re ready to give.

But is now the right time?

Perhaps, there is another man, maybe woman, that is Bucky, Joaquin, and Sam combined.

They could be out there in this world.

It’s up to you if you want to explore that possibility.

But you’re not ready to let go of Bucky, Joaquin or Sam yet. 

You suppose that’s okay.

Until those dreams manifest into nightmares.

What do you want?

Who will you choose?

In the end, you must choose yourself, no matter what or who you want.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Joaquin Torres Masterlist | Sam Wilson Masterlist

[tllgrrl]

Relationship: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson | Rated: M (At the end.)

* * * * * * * * * *

“We’ll keep the lights on for Santa Claus and for you,” the boys told him the night before when he called to let them and Sarah know he’d be on his way home soon, arriving in time for Christmas.

”I’ll just say be prepared,” she chuckled. “They really got into the spirit this year.”

Even though the house was set back a little ways, as the SUV approached the driveway, the glow was visible from the main road.

Not only was the house brilliant, lights were also wrapped around a few of the trees in the front-yard.

“Wow!”

“Exactly what I was thinkin’,” Bucky grinned. “Thanks for the ride home, pal.”

“My pleasure Sergeant Barnes,” the white-haired older man smiled, eyes twinkling. “I’m on my way home, too. Been a long day. Y’all have a merry Christmas.”

“You and yours too,” he nodded, giving the driver a generous tip and a wave as the car pulled away.

He placed his bags on the porch, did a quick perimeter check of the property, then stood in the yard and took in the decorations before mounting the steps.

He smiled, and shook his head in wonderment at the display of lights decorating the house.

“Thanks, guys. It’s beautiful.”

He unlocked the door, touched the door jamb, whispered “Bast wam, sikelela le ndawo,” and entered the house.

The first thing he smelled was the tree, which was softly aglow from tiny lights. These were much more subdued than the ones on the exterior of the house.

The living room was festive, but also calm and cozy.

Next came the aroma of the freshly-baked cookies that were arranged on a plate in the middle of the coffee table. On another plate was a bunch of carrots.

And there was a note, carefully printed and signed by the boys:

Dear Santa

The cookies are for you and Uncle Bucky. Mama helped us make them. The carrots are for the reindeer. We picked them out of our garden.

Merry Christmas and Thank You!

Cass and AJ

He snagged a cookie, opened his duffle, pulled out several wrapped parcels, placed them under the tree, and took the duffle into the mudroom, leaving it on top of the washer to get to later.

Snagging another cookie, he picked up his backpack and headed for the downstairs bathroom where he showered, brushed his teeth and slipped into the pj bottoms and t-shirt that were waiting on the door hook.

Avoiding the squeaky step on the way upstairs, he looked in on the kids, then stepping quietly into Sarah’s room, he set his backpack in the corner, carefully pulled back the covers and crawled into bed, relaxing for the first time in hours. In days.

“Mmmmmm…” Sarah hummed as he pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arm around her, kissing the back of her neck, burying his face in her curls, and inhaling the scent of her hair.

Bucky knows she fell asleep while trying to wait up for him because she usually puts her hair up before going to sleep.

She snuggled herself into him, and reaching back, ran her fingers through his hair as he cupped her breast before running his hand down under the waistband of her sleep shorts.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he softly growled. “I’m home.”

Quietly giggling, she parted her thighs and purred, “Ahhhhh…’zat you, Santa Claus?”

* * * * * * * * * *

Also posted HERE on The AO3.

* * * * * * * * * *

Happy ChristmaHanukKwanza! Happy All The Holidays, including Festivus!

[melles1276]

New chapter is online!

I wish you all a Happy New Year! 🎇🎆❤️

Excerpt:

Chapter 20 - Ordeal

“You no good?” Khadim kneels down next to Steve and carefully places his hand on his shoulder.

Tears of joy are still streaming down Steve's face and he isn’t ashamed of them. During the conversation he paced back and forth to keep his nerves somewhat under control. Now, after Clint has assured him that four soldiers are on their way to rescue them, his legs feel like jelly, and he simply collapses onto his backside. Blinking through the veil of tears, he says with a sniff: “No! I'm okay!. I'm just... so glad! Help is on the way! Help is coming!”

Khadim claps his hands with a satisfied nod. "OK!"

And then suddenly Steve finds himself in a hug that he wasn't expecting but that feels so damn good. They lay in each other's arms crying, while he keeps mumbling “Help is on the way” because he can't believe it himself.

Some time later, Steve looks undecided into the distance and then back to the settlement that lays below their current location. On the one hand, it felt so good to be able to talk to Sam or Clint. On the other hand, he really wants to go back to Bucky and tell him the news. However, reception will not be possible in the village itself. But constantly commuting between two places isn't in his interest either. After he comes to a resolution, he raises the radio. "Hello? Clint?”

“Hey! What's up, Steve?"

“I, um, I have to get back to Bucky. But the reception in the village is non-existent and…”

“No problem, man. Tell Buck Alpine is waiting for him.”

“Alpine? Who is-"

“Oh, that’s our, no, their mascot. I'm no longer part of that chaotic group. It's a white goat that Buck adores. She is staying here at the camp, and he usually takes care of her. Now I have to do it. He owes me big time, you can tell him that. He won’t get out of it that easily.”

“O-okay,” Steve nods, unsure how to deal with these facts. He lowers the radio and is about to plug it in when he changes his mind and presses the talk button again. “Um, Clint?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“I, um, I wanted to…” he pauses, searching for the right words but only manages to say one. "Thanks."

“Not for that man. Take good care of the Sarge until we get there, okay?”

"Will do."

"See you."

“Yes, I’m…” He falls silent again. "See you later."

[annikityk]

I'm so not normal about the fact, that in any other pairing Zemo would be the "a little bit older, a black leather jacket" type, but in winterbaron dynamic… it just screams Bucky

[blackleatherjacketz]

Ghosts: Chapter 2

Bucky Barnes x Original Female Character

Summary: After seeking out an old partner he has history with, Bucky gets invited up to her apartment to see just how deep their connection goes.

 Warnings: Mature Content, Intense Sexual Flashbacks, ANGST, Kissing, Face Holding, Groping, Clear and Sexy Consent, Bucky Cutting Off His Hair, Mentions of Doctor Strange, Steve Rogers, Shuri, T’Challa and Sam, Spot The Deep Cut Sebastian Karaoke Reference

Word Count: 1.6+K

Tags: @bullet-prooflove @skittle479 @letsby

Read Chapter 1

That eerie feeling from before slowly shifts from a phantom sighting to a dreamlike state, one where she knows exactly who she’s looking at and who he’s supposed to be, yet his presence in her apartment is still nothing short of surreal. There are similarities with who he once was, the thick and heavy silence that lingers around him, the way his lips pout as he scans his new surroundings and the height of his shoulders as he crosses through her doorway, but that seems to be the extent of it. Everything else about him is different. It’s as if her brain had pieced together fragments of memories from their time together that she’d buried along with her past to make this version of him appear before her.

The only other common thread between them was how badly she wanted to touch him again, to get as close as they were back down at the laundromat, but their brisk walk back up to her place had disrupted the delicate dance they had begun on ground level. She hoped they wouldn’t have to start from the very top to earn his trust all over again, but his demeanor was much like that of a wild animal in a cage, pacing around his new environment before feeling comfortable enough to open up to her again. Despite his changed behavior and startling appearance, the danger of his past still looms over him like a darkened cloud in the sky, holding her vulnerability hostage.

“What were you going to do?” She starts, trying to break through the silence as he eventually turns around to face her. “If I had a family, a husband, kids, all that stuff?”

His eyes drop down to his feet before he looks back up at her to answer, his shoulders nearly touching his ears as he shrugs in hypothetical defeat. “I guess I just wouldn’t have bothered.”

“Really?” She steps toward him as he leans against her wobbly bookshelf, hoping to warm the chilled air between them. “That easy, huh?”

“Strange didn’t… if he had seen anything like that, I wouldn’t have…” Bucky stammers as he remembers knocking on the good doctor’s door in the middle of the night, that annoyed look on his face particularly exaggerated by his impromptu presence.

The two of them had never actually spent any time alone together, their interactions limited to the last fight against Thanos amidst thousands of other warriors. Their allegiance to each other was based on nothing more than a slew of loosely connected friends that happened to live in the same city, and a team that had disbanded after an insurmountable amount of loss. He didn’t expect the doctor to give him what he wanted right away, but he at least had to try; and thank God that he did.

“I would have left you alone,” he tells her, pushing off the bookshelf to stand up straight as she walks closer to him. That option had surprisingly never even begun to cross his mind, not once. But now that she mentions it, he couldn’t bring himself to imagine the devastation he would have felt if that were the case, if Strange had somehow left that out of his description before sending him off to see her. “If you were happy.”

“You don’t think I’m happy alone?” She jests, trying her best to lighten the mood or at the very least, make him smile.

“I just meant…” he trails off, his brow furrowing in frustration.

“I’m kidding.” She stops just short of him, the trepidation whirring through his nervous system as it buzzes in his skin and out into the air around him.

God, he’s really been through it, hasn’t he?

“You cut your hair.” She changes the subject, standing on her tiptoes to run her fingers through it in another attempt to ease the palpable tension in his body, to anchor herself in this very real moment. She stares at his familiar features as she cards her fingers through his locks, watching the muscles in his face relax just the slightest bit as his lids drop down over tired eyes.

“I needed a change.” He allows her to touch him, standing still as her fingers press into his scalp in one of the few welcome forms of physical touch that he can remember. “I wanted to change,” he corrects himself.

The extreme length of his hair had been with him for as long as he could remember, growing out in between periods of cryo as the only real way he could measure time during that period in his life. He could tell how long he’d been out on missions in between stages of freezing, personal hygiene being the last thing on Hydra’s agenda when he had a target to eliminate. After Steve had found him and set him free, he continued to let it grow, healing and survival being his only real goals in the midst of everything else going on in the world around him.

In Wakanda it had become a point of pride for him, a gauge of emotional and physical growth with each session of deprogramming he had with the Dora Milaje. The local children had pulled its length up into ponytails and buns before Shuri decided to braid it to match hers, only to have T’Challa pull him aside and tell him to take it out. After that he was frozen again along with Shuri, Sam, T’Challa and damn near everyone else he knew, only this time it was different. He didn’t have the nightmares he came to expect when Hydra had locked him up and frozen him away in stasis. He didn’t have any dreams at all, for that matter; no thoughts, worries, fears or anything else that might even come close to that… just an endless sinking darkness.

After he came back and Steve had left, he grew to resent the hair that he had been so proud of over those past few years. Every time he looked in the mirror he saw the man his best friend had fought so hard to bring back from the very depths of hell, only to leave him stranded the first chance he got. He tried cutting it off himself with his pocket knife in the bathroom mirror, but the tears in his eyes prevented him from shearing off more than just one jagged, lopsided lock.

Sam had brought him to his barber shop the very next day to fix the damage, trying his best to help him in whatever way he could. He remembers solemnly nodding to grant permission for the man to cut off his ponytail, to sever that metaphorical connection to the past; a weight suddenly lifted off of his shoulders as it silently fell onto the floor. It was as if that was the last domino to fall in his healing process, allowing him to finally feel light and free as if all of that grief and turmoil were finally behind him: Hydra, Tony, Thanos, The Winter Soldier and even his beloved Steve Rogers.

“I’ve wasted too much time doing what they told me to do,” He swallows his words down as his hands find their way onto her hips, her caramel eyes practically glowing as they draw him out of his painful past and into the present. “What they forced me to do.” He smooths his palm up the side of her torso as she gently walks him back against the bookshelf, cupping her face before the space between them nearly closes completely. “I thought it was time I start doing what I want.”

“And what do you want?” she whispers, bringing her lips closer to his as her heart rate increases, instantly warming her skin in anticipation.

The man she used to know would have shifted his weight against hers to change their positions, shoving her up against the shelf with a hand around her throat. He would have tasted her lips as he pulled them in between his teeth, taking control of the only thing he could without hurting anyone else in the process, but that was the assassin from the past. That wasn’t him, not anymore. Any remnants of that version of himself had been swept away along with his hair, never to be seen again.

“I want to kiss you.” He confesses, gently brushing his thumb across the apple of her cheek as it flushes. “I want to kiss you until I forget about everything else.” He leans in and presses his lips to hers, smiling against them as he feels her return the favor with a tender intensity that nearly knocks a few of the books off the shelf behind him.

All of that fear of who he once was, of who he still could be seems to melt away as he embraces her, his hand caressing her face as she realizes just how different he feels from all those years ago. His lips are no longer roughened from ages of dehydration and neglect, his hand soft and gentle as it holds her near. The scent of carbon no longer lingers on the dusting of gunpowder in his hair, the musk of black leather a distant memory as his tongue, now rich with flavors of coffee and chocolate, brushes softly against hers.

That distinct saltiness of his skin still remains somehow, triggering her subconscious to recall the very best parts of their forbidden trysts from so long ago. She holds his head with both hands as he exhales a moan into her mouth, letting him run his hand through her hair as his metal fingers wrap themselves around her belt loops to keep her close.

“I want that, too” she manages to say in between breaths, pulling back just far enough to look up into his darkened eyes.

“You sure?” He asks, holding onto her as tightly as he can for fear that if he lets go she might disappear entirely. He kisses her again to make sure her body’s speaking the same language as the words coming out of her mouth, her quickened pulse and hungry eyes calming his fear almost instantly.

“I’m sure.”