Part 10

Summary: You and Bucky spend the day, and night, together.

Warnings: 18+, language, sexual content (if you’ve been waiting for smut, it’s now), p in v, unprotected sex, kind of rough, pussy slapping, pet names, dirty talk, cum marking.

This is rated P for Porn.

Credits: Dividers by @firefly-graphics . Beta read by @christywantspizza

A/N: massive apology to Christy because i rewrote this about 3 or 4 times and spent ages not being able to write it

Posting a bit early because I’m away this weekend, hope you guys enjoy it! ❤

Series Masterlist|Masterlist|Soundtrack

7 Weeks and 2 days Since the Snap

After breakfast you had to go for a medical and psych evaluation, leaving Bucky alone in the apartment. 

He kissed your cheek as you left, promising to still be there when you got back. He was worried about you, you’d complained that your head was still full of wool, confused and fuzzy, but both doctors said it was very normal. The painkillers would clear and then your normal therapy sessions would have you feeling better soon. 

Bucky was pleased to find you’d had FRIDAY send him a message as soon as you were done, letting him know you were on your way home. Home. You’d called the apartment home last night too, something neither of you had thought of until that moment. 

He hurried to set up the living room the way you always did in the evening, dimming the lights, lighting candles and getting FRIDAY’s help to pick a relaxing playlist from your collection. 

By the time he heard the tell-tale click of the lock, the apartment was warm and full of the smell of food and the quiet music drifting through the living room. 

“How did it go?" 

"Oh, alright, I guess. Just need some rest." 

He kissed the side of your head, as chastely as he had in the morning, nervous to take it any further, "Good, because food is ready. You just need to get comfortable." 

Without warning, he picked you up and sat you down at one of the high stools around the counter, surprised by the little noise you let out at the action. Maybe he’d gone too far, did you not want him touching you? 

Then you giggled and lent your head against his shoulder letting out an impressed whistle. 

"Sorry, sweetheart, I mean - is it too much? I don’t actually know how to cook, so I thought I’d better get lots of sides and then I made mac and cheese, they didn’t have the ingredients I needed at the store and-” He rambled, his ears pink and bottom lip pinched between his teeth. 

“No, it’s perfect, Jamie, thank you.” He glowed, stepping back into your space and running his hands up your thighs while you watched him, eyes twinkling. You tipped your head up, brushing your lips against his until he kissed you back, his tongue darting out to taste you, pulling back before you could deepen it, capturing your quiet sigh with one last press of his lips. 

“Good, because I have a lot of making up to do and I intend to start tonight. I’ve been a shitty roommate and a horrible team mate. You’ve been nothing but kind and friendly, I - I’m ashamed. Honestly. I’m ashamed." 

He watched you carefully, your shoulders sagging under the weight of the day before you lifted your head. "Thank you for apologising, I’m sorry if I annoyed you, before. I know I can be a lot." 

"No, no, you’re not a lot. This is your home and you can enjoy it, even if I’m an asshole. I don’t know how to- how to- live with someone. Especially not someone so full of…” Bucky struggled for the word. “Sunshine. I’m not used to it all the time." 

"I can tone it down." 

"No!” Bucky snapped, then repeated himself softly. “No, please don’t. I like it and I want you to be happy, really.”

“Thank you, for apologising. You were mean but then, I got mean too and that isn’t the way to deal with this stuff.”

“Think we can do better in the future?" 

"Definitely." 

The two of you ate in companionable silence, rather than the awkward, terse silence you’d endured a few weeks before.

"That was actually really good.” The last slice of garlic bread was calling to you, so you snatched it up quickly, humming in satisfaction. 

“You just want more food.” He teased and you laughed, but nodded all the same  Bucky pointed at the fridge, distracting you and reaching over and scooping out the last of your macaroni from your bowl. 

“Hey!” You hit his fork with your own and he dodged, dropping half back into your bowl but finishing anything he could get his fork into. “You’re a rude bastard, you know that? Make me dinner and then steal it for yourself?” You poked him in the side.  

“I need sustenance. You know I’m a super soldier right?” His grin turned cheeky, his eyes lighting up. This was what he’d enjoyed before, the only new person in his life who wasn’t always flinching away or looking at him with puppy dog eyes. 

“No, I didn’t know. No one’s ever mentioned it before. Does that gives you dibs on my food?" 

"Makes me very…” He looked you up and down, biting his lip, “hungry.”

“What if I’m hungry too?” You licked your lips, meeting his fiery gaze with your own and he faltered, nervous. 

“Then I would say, top shelf.”

“What?"  

"I got tiramisu.” He stumbled over his words, chastising himself for losing his cool. Since when was he frightened of women flirting with him? 

Breaking the tension you squealed and jumped down from your stool. 

“I love tiramisu!" 

"I know, you gonna serve it?" 

Dancing over to the fridge you tossed your napkin back at him. "You can take the man out of the forties.” You joked, rolling your eyes.  

You pulled the tray down and heaped two generous servings into glass bowls and slid one over the counter. 

Soon you’d finish your dessert too and then…would you leave? Go back to your room? Isn’t that what he had done to you, and worse, only last week?  You ate slowly, waiting for him to speak first. 

“You wanna watch TV? They have an 80s movie collection on Netflix, thought I’d catch up,” he suggested, “I’ll let you laugh at me when I don’t get the references." 

"Sure.” You seemed delighted, nodding enthusiastically and bursting into a lecture on the best 80s movies while Bucky led the way to the living room. You picked up one of the many cushions and, getting comfortable, curled up at the other end of the sofa, tucking a blanket around your feet. 

Bucky spread himself out over the coffee table, feet up and legs parted.

He looked over at you and pulled your feet until they were in his lap too, spreading the blanket back over you both. 

“Comfy?" 

"Comfy. Thanks. Jamie." 

A warm burst of happiness filled Bucky’s chest, light filling up each dark shadow in the corners of his mind. Would he ever get over how that sounded, your voice rounding out the soft vowels of Jamie, melting on your tongue like candy floss. It would always be as sweet to him. 

"No problem.” He rubbed his thumb across your instep, warm vibranium fingers inched their way higher and then back down, until he settled on your ankle, watching you lick the back of your spoon in a daze while you scrolled through the movies. 

Together you watched Ghostbusters, which made Bucky howl with laughter, and Dirty Dancing which, to your surprise, Bucky also enjoyed. 

“We could do that lift,” he said, apropos of nothing while tidying your glasses and plates away, “if you wanted.”

“You’d drop me!"  

"You think I’d let you fall?” Bucky crept up behind you, one warm arm circled your waist, the other holding your hand and encouraging you to turn in his arms, a slow waltz across the kitchen floor. “I’d never let you fall.” He felt you shiver as his words ghosted over your cheek. 

The waltz ended outside of your bedroom doors, leaving you both awkward and over aware of yourselves. 

“I should go to bed,” you whispered, not letting go of his hand, your body still held against his. 

“Me too." 

"Why does this feel like a date?” The atmosphere between you broke, replaced with awkward laughter and a tighter hold on his hand. 

“Why don’t we just say goodnight. And that’s it?" 

"Good idea, goodnight." 

"Goodnight.” He dropped your hand and took a step back to his own room. 

“Jamie?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Thank you for dinner.”

 Bucky beamed back. “Anytime, sweetheart." 

He closed his bedroom door behind him and slid down the cold wood to sit on the floor and berate himself before he got ready for bed. Why didn’t he kiss you, when you looked so inviting and warm? Why did he have to get so shy?! It was the perfect moment, like this morning, full of desire and familiarity. 

His head thunked against the door, his thoughts still on you, but drifting to all the times he’d heard you call him Jamie before, when he hadn’t understood.

His sweatpants suddenly felt very tight and uncomfortable. Would he hear you again tonight? Now that you knew he could hear you? His cock twitched at the thought and he scrambled onto his bed, just in case. Listening carefully, he held his breath, but it sounded like you were getting under the covers, you said goodnight to FRIDAY and the rhythmic sound of your nighttime playlist filtered in. 

Disappointed, he sighed and turned the lights off too. 

He woke to your gasps entering his subconscious, something far away dragging him out of the confusing images that swirled through his dreams. 

You cried out again, the mournful sound echoing through the apartment. He couldn’t just lie there, not anymore. He’d heard your nightmares before, seen the sheen of sweat across your brow and, even though he hadn’t been able to truly help, he wanted to be with you. 

The door swung open, your deep breaths and gasps filled the darkness as Bucky’s eyes adjusted to the light, helped by your open blinds, the blinking lights of so many high rises and towers taking up almost a whole wall of the room. 

He’d expected to see you curled in on yourself, as you had been in the hotel the first time he met you. Or at least clutching your blankets, arms rigid like your night on the sofa. 

But you were flat on your back, legs parted and sheets pushed down past your bare belly and between your legs. Bunched together you pushed your hands down and rolled your body, panting and moaning. 

Jamie 

He couldn’t take it any longer. After your next moan he climbed onto the bed, holding your arm and shaking you gently.

"Timber?" 

You smiled in your sleep, reaching out for him. "Jamie?” Your voice was sleep roughened, confused, but wanting, thick with desire. 

“I’m here, I’m here.” He pulled you into his arms, tangling your legs together so that your bed warm body fit against his chest like a puzzle piece. 

“Hmm, glad you’re here.” You pressed messy kisses into his shoulder and chest, wherever your sleepy mind took you, your body curling around his. 

Bucky took the opportunity to run his hands across your waist, your back, cupping your hip and holding you closer, feeling you and discovering your body in the darkness. 

“You dreaming, sweetheart?” He kissed the words into your neck, nosing behind your ear to feel you giggle and squirm against his hold.  

“Must be, you’re here,” you sighed. 

“You’re going soft on me.” 

You shut him up with a kiss, full of the desperation and need that had been building between you for weeks. Anger and frustration biting at each other’s lips, understanding sliding over his tongue, claiming your kisses for himself. 

His hands moved slowly over your body, feeling each curve, each bump, his fingers dipping into your soft hips and belly, pushing up under your pyjama top and cupping your breasts.

“Jamie.” You keened against his lips, so sweet and low, bumping your nose against his. “Please.” 

Your legs, wrapped around his, moved higher over his waist and pressed your damp panties against his growing cock. A deep moan escaped his chest making you writhe against him harder, his hands guiding you. He hadn’t been this hard since he first heard you, all those weeks ago, crying out a name that held so much jealousy and now so much desire. 

Silently, you sat up, pulling your shirt over your head and freeing your pebbled nipples, running your hands up Bucky’s bare chest, knocking against his dog tags, silver grasped tightly, pulling him to you. Bucky rolled a pert nipple between metal fingers, relishing in your gasps, the involuntary hitch of your hips and your joyous smile, illuminated by the flashing lights of the New York skyline.

“Barnes!” 

He chuckled, “I told you not to call me that.” Playfully, he rolled you both until you were pinned beneath him, his hands twined with yours, pinned above your head, he spread your thighs with his own.

“Jamie.” He bent to kiss you again, your chest pressed against his, your knees squeezing his sides. 

“I think you should tell me about this dream.” He insisted, earning a mischievous grin and a tug on the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Oh!Jamie!“You keened as he rolled his hips against you, the cotton of his pyjamas creating the perfect friction against your clit.

"Hmmm, I heard that part.” Bucky moved down your neck, making a note of each hitch in your breath, each minute movement of your body and cataloguing the exact spots to kiss, nibble, lick to elicit each response. 

“I thought - fuck- I thought you would." 

"Was I making you feel good, making you call out my name.” He licked across your collarbone, kissing up your neck, tweaking your nipple at the same time.

“Who said it was you?” You bit back, sucking at his bottom lip until he growled. 

“She did.” He reached between you, slapping you through your drenched panties. “So don’t lie, I know it was me making you wet, making you cry for me in your sleep.” He thrust against you again, his cock achingly hard, leaving it’s own wet patch on his boxer briefs.

“Yes,yes, God dammit! But you were a lot less annoying!” Your legs moved under him, your hips lifting, grinding. He was losing control, there was only so much of his own teasing he could enjoy before it became endurance, holding himself back from taking you. 

With another wanton moan, his resilience cracked, tearing the last of your clothes from your body. 

Shocked, you looked up at him, your eyes clouded with desire, bottom lip tugged between your teeth and pushed until you both rolled over, he kept his hands at your waist, helping you to situate yourself back over his cock. 

Your hands slid up his chest, sweat slicked and flushed, until you reached his shoulders. He watched you for a moment, drinking in the sight of you above him, eyes hooded and breaths shallow. 

Bucky only hesitated for a moment more before he thrust up, sheathing himself, feeling you clench around him before he had even moved. Your eyes rolled back, staying upright only because of his tight grip. Fuck. He’d forgotten just how good it felt to actually have sex, to watch your pretty face go slack because of him, to feel you around him and knowing he had put the dopey, blissfull smile on your face and he wanted to savour it this time. 

“God - I - fuck.” You panted, dropping your chin to your chest, pulsing at the sight of you joined together. 

“Fuck, yes, sweetheart.” He moaned, giving an experimental trust upwards, relishing the already cock drunk expression on your face and the perfect squeeze of your body. 

“Jamie, I need, fuck, I need -” you begged, practically mewling in your desperation, words lost to a haze of lust. 

The feeling wasn’t lost on Bucky either, feeling drunk for the first time in decades, he pulled you down for a messy kiss. 

“Whatever you want, it’s yours, take it, it’s yours” he chanted, moving your hands onto his chest, letting you press down to help you move. 

No girl had ever put her hands on him like this during sex, pinching and squeezing, exploring his body as much as he wanted to explore hers. But you, you were something else, you gave as much pleasure as you demanded. Rolling his nipples between your thumb and finger, feeling his pecs and shoulders, panting into his mouth. With every thrust you met the movement halfway, smiling into your kisses and swallowing Bucky’s own uninhibited moans greedily. 

He changed the tempo, swapping needy, shallow, rutting for deep, firm strokes. Your hands moved higher and higher with each snap of his hips, one ending up over his shoulder, planted firmly in the pillow next to his head, while the other sat loosely at the base of his neck. His own hands moved you forwards, changing the angle of his thrusts and finding your spot.

“Jamie! You keened, "I - I - I need-”

Blissfully Bucky tipped his head back, “Anything, sweetheart, it’s yours, fuck.” You clenched around him and he fucked up erratically. “You feel so - so fuckin’ good on my cock, Jesus, take it, it’s yours, fuckin’ show me it’s yours." 

"Mine.” Your hand tightened then relaxed with every precise thrust, your thumb brushing the scruff at his chin. 

He held you tight, helping you keep bouncing even when he felt your legs going weak.

“C'mon, sweetheart, I gotta feel you cum on my cock, fuck-” you dropped your weight onto him, grinding against him, your arousal dripping down his length making each movement sound obscene. 

“Fuck, Jamie!” He brushed his thumb against your clit, feeling you flutter around him as you came undone above him, going rigid and then limp in his arms. As soon as he felt your convulsions stop he rolled you onto your back, chasing his own climax. 

Fucked out and pliant you felt heavenly around him, drawing him in and continuing to roll against him, whimpering and sighing. 

Each movement built electricity inside of him until he couldn’t contain it any longer, holding back enough to stutter “Sweetheart - I - I’m gonna-” before  he pulled back, exploding and spilling over his hand, marking your legs and stomach with his release. 

Bucky fell to the bed next to you, drawing ragged breaths and wiping his hand on the sheets.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He groaned. 

“Yeah, fuck.” You laughed, settling back into his arms.