Reaching Out | Bucky Barnes

7 | Wednesday, June 2nd (18+)

When I wake up the next morning, I have no idea what time it is, although it must be morning because slivers of light peak through the edges of the black-out curtains, giving the room a soft golden hue.

Beside me, Bucky is still passed out cold on his stomach, with an arm under the pillow and hair draped across his face. Without thinking, I reach the few inches between us and brush the locks away gently, biting my lip when he twitches. He doesn't wake up and I find myself brushing my fingers through the hair at his temple, the same way he has to me.

My mind wanders back to last night, and I wonder how often he has nightmares.

Trying to imagine him as an assassin is almost impossible; to me, they're two different people. I'm so far removed from that situation that I find I have to remind myself of the trauma he has gone through... trauma that I don't know if time could heal. I can't even imagine what he went through and what he's constantly reminded of, and now he's going back to the viper's den... And I know he had whatever brainwashing reversed by Princess Shuri, but going back must be terrifying—or, at the least worrisome.

My eyes slip down to the scars where his skin meets his metal shoulder, before returning my eyes to his peaceful face.

Why is he so gorgeous?

My fingers are still running through his hair when he lets out a hum and opens his eyes.

"Now I see why you like that so much," he says huskily before closing them again.

"Just trying to return the favor," I smile.

"You sleep okay?" he mumbles.

"I did. No nightmares or hallucinations," I laugh. "How about you? I noticed you didn't try to choke me this morning. Gotta say, I'm kinda disappointed."

Bucky's eyes fly open at that, but they're not mad or scared. It's an entirely differently emotion that has his pupils blown wide. "Now Y/N, you can't say things like that and not expect me to react."

"Who says I didn't want you to react?" I whisper, pausing my fingers in his hair while I spread feeling to his arm.

He eyes me for a moment before pushing up on his right arm and cupping my face with his left and letting his thumb brush across my cheek as he leans down to press a soft kiss against my lips.

Slowly, his lips trail down from my lips to my neck, while his hand traces a path down my chest, stomach, and past where it should go, to my leg. He makes teasing circles up and down my thigh all while his lips and tongue attack my neck.

I tilt my head into the pillow at the feeling, bracing the back of his neck to pull him closer while my other hand squeezes his shoulder.

"What happened to 'slow and steady'?" he chuckles against my skin, sending shivers down my back.

"I'm okay throwing 'slow and steady' out the window if you are?"

"We can always circle back to it later," he nods, crashing his lips against mine.

I smile and roll to straddle him, his hands immediately roaming my body; squeezing and caressing. My hips grind against him, and he groans against my lips while the feeling of him harden makes me press further against him. "Say if you want to stop," I say between kisses.

"Don't you dare stop," he says hoarsely.

"Yes, sir," I laugh airily, grabbing the corners of my t-shirt and pulling it off. He sucks in a breath and his hands begin exploring once again, pulling an approving hum from me as I reach my hand down to palm his length.

He presses against my hand, and I kiss him one last time, before trailing kisses down his bare chest to the band of his black sweatpants, where I look up to see him watching me, chest heaving. I smile a little, trailing my fingers along the band; making teasing brushes against him and watching as his eyes darken.