This Is Stella's Reality

March 10, 2015

Bucky's soft curls were damp with sweat as I tugged his hair again. He chuckled, deep in his chest as he held my hips tightly with his metal hand.

"You're so good to me, doll," he breathed as his free hand explored the hills and valleys of my body.

I leaned over him, adjusting my hips for a better angle. His face changed; the strength of his brow softened into pleasure as I bounced my weight on top of him.

A smile pulled at my lips. "Happy birthday, Sarge."

His eyebrows pulled up, and his cheeks flushed pink. Afternoon light poured over us creating golden pools of light in his mirroring eyes. He smiled and held my hair with his hand. "Marry me," he breathed.

"Where's my ring?" I asked with a tease in my voice. I adjusted my weight again and quickened our pace. He moaned with gratification as I pulled his hair once more.

It was longer now, easy to fist into my hands and curling just so around his ears and neck. The way he writhed underneath my touch sent fire through my veins. He loved to have his hair pulled, played with, touched in any way. I read his thoughts, jumbled with pleasure and praise.

"Fuck," he said as he threw his head back. His voice was raspy. I knew he was close. He bit his lip and pinched his eyebrows together. The pink in his cheeks blossomed into red roses.

His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, and his eyes shut in concentration. "I love you so much, Mrs. Barnes," he said; it was barely a whisper. It ghosted over my ears.

I smirked down at him, "Say that again. It sounded good." Confidence was surging through me, and when Bucky was unable to reply, I pulled his hair harder.

He moaned at the sensation. "I love you," he nearly shouted. His eyes tore open to bore into mine. He held my jaw with his fingers, "Mrs. Barnes."

My eyes lit up, and my blue magic swirled around him, encasing us in cerulean waves. It bristled through his hair, over his broad chest, clinked together the metal of our dog tags, and gushed over our hot skin.

Bucky shuddered, trembling under me and letting out a string of curses. He pulled my weight down and held me over his hips, rocking me against him as he finished.

His chest heaved with exhaustion, and I pressed kisses to his forehead. He was sticky with dried sweat. I laughed, "Let's get you cleaned up, birthday boy." I slid off of him, and he groaned in protest.

He tried to grasp at me, but his limbs were jelly, and I knocked his hands away easily. He looked up at me with puppy-dog eyes. I smiled, "You can't be gross and sweaty at your birthday party." My hands coaxed him off the bed.

The floors were cold on my bare feet, and Bucky hissed when he thudded down from the bed. Begrudgingly, he followed me into the bathroom.

His arms wrapped around my waist as I bent over to turn the hot water on in the bathtub. He pressed kisses along my back, and his finger rubbed circles into my thighs.

Gently, he lifted one of my legs to rest on the edge of the bath. I sighed, knowing Bucky would take full advantage of it being his birthday to do whatever he wanted.

He hummed against my skin. His breath was hot, and I whined from the anticipation. The ghost of a laugh rolled over me. "I'm not done with you yet, pet." His voice was dark, and a shiver ran up my spine.

His fingers wrapped around me, massaging my clit in slow and tantalizing circles. All of my confidence from earlier melted into submission.

This seemed to satisfy Bucky; his thoughts swirled into whispers of praise that sent butterflies hammering through my rib cage. His strong arms lifted me, carrying me to the vanity.