Pleasure Remains the Same -Helmut Zemo(eventual winterbaron) x Reader

Continued 11

The directions were simple.

"Go into the bedroom, you may help one another, and when you're done getting ready, wait for me on the bed. The collars are in the bottom drawer..."

Bucky follows you, his hands wandering; stroking your hair, your back, your neck. He's never going to be able to follow rule three if he keeps this up, you laugh swatting his hand away, trying to avoid his touch as you open the door to the bedroom.

Inside, he watches as you go to the closet and find the items just as Zemo said you would.

"How do we know which are which?" He asks from the bed.

You turn and grin holding them up.

His is thicker, heavier, and you wonder if these were in the crate Oeznik did not open.

"Me first?" You offer going to him.

"Sure" He says and watches you pull your tank top off over your head and toss it onto one of the plush chairs in the room. Bucky surprises you and finds the zipper of your skirt, pulling it down easily. He tugs the silk organza off your hips with a cocky smile as the fabric falls, giving you a little wink that makes you roll your eyes, giggling with your tongue between your teeth. Oh fuck it—your underwear comes sliding down your thighs too— no use pretending this won't escalate quickly.

"Come closer." He says and you stand between his legs.

He's breathing hard already, his eyes bright with the excitement.

You look him over thinking about how beautiful he is. This is an established fact stated so many times it doesn't need to be said. But you can't stop looking at him tonight and you know it's because you've lived with and loved him for more than a year now. The many connections between you run deep and now you'll share in this singular experience with him. You feel... special. 

Does he feel hesitant, you wonder eyeing his profile. You did the first time you ever had sex and you desperately want him to know that every time he's ever tried to play the hero to you, tonight you will be his should he need it— but James is a lucky man. Zemo actually loves  him. He won't find himself under some greasy haired, overly perfumed son of a Low Town gangster who thinks he's hot shit. You hold in a laugh at the memory of your "first" and his sad, selfish attempts to satisfy you.

Watching Bucky from the corner of your eye, you raise your chin and keep close so he can gather the leather around the back of your neck. He buckles it easily, and you feel that familiar sensation of your body waking up. The clink of the metal, the touch of the leather, your nipples perk, you feel the slippery response between your legs— it's all nice but you want to focus on him and you hope your desire to care for Bucky as he would you shows through in your own movements.

Pressing the center of the strap to his strong neck, you pull one side and then the other, pausing to kiss his jaw, nipping at his ear, you make him practically giggle involuntarily. He tucks his ear to his shoulder, leaning away from you. You smile and loop the ends, finding the perfect notch. "How's that?" You ask softly, running your fingers back around and down his neck.

His eyes close as he smiles. "Good. A little tight, but— I like it." How the tides have turned you think, remembering the first time he ever heard those words from you when he reluctantly fastened you into your restraints.

Your smile matches his as you stroke his scruffy cheek. "Perfect" You quickly unbutton his shirt and smooth your hands under the lapels sliding it off his shoulders and in doing so actually catch a glimpse of a metal loop you hadn't noticed on the back of the collar at first. "Oh wait. I think there's more." You say realizing what that other thing was in the drawer. "Hang on." You tell him, leaving Bucky shirtless on the bed.