Welcome Home | Mini Series

Part Five

Frankie woke with a start.

Every night had been like this. For six damn months. Waking up in a cold sweat. He'd pull her close in his sleep. She'd be lulled back to sleep. And then she'd do it again.

She was stalking someone. Her breath was shallow. Her mind was focused.

Follow. Don't be seen. Eliminate.

The glint of metal shone in the moonlight. Black and gold. It was beautiful, actually. She wanted to touch it.

No, focus, Sparrow. Get it done.

She reached him, but he was still. Too still. Something was wrong. So, so wrong.

She moved in front, only to find him lifeless, a bullet hole in the middle of his chest. His blood was everywhere.

****

"Fuck!," she moaned, sitting straight up. Her heart was beating like a drum. She looked over, he reached for her as he turned on the lamp. "Baby? Hey," he cooed. Her eyes were wide, she could barely breathe.

"Mary?," he whispered, that certainly focused her mind.

"I'm here," she panted, looking up at him. "It's okay. I'm okay. I promise, Buck."

"Same dream?," he asked softly and she shook her head. No, this one was so much worse. It was a nightly occurrence. Always a dead Avenger. Always a bullet hole in the chest. Always blood everywhere.

But this time it was Bucky.

"Was it me?," he whispered and she burst into tears, clutching his t-shirt like a lifeline. "Oh, baby. My Sparrow. I'm here. I'm okay. Look at me."

She reluctantly looked at him and it almost instantly calmed her. Something in those eyes. It was home. It was her safe place. He was her everything.

"Anything I can do?"

She nodded, her hand trailing down his chest, giving him pleading eyes. She needed a distraction. She needed to feel him close. She wanted him, all of him.

He smiled and gently pushed her to her back and pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. "I've got you," he whispered and she shivered at his tone. He certainly did. "Focus on me, okay?"

Her eyes bore into his, letting him know she agreed. He nodded slightly and worked on her clothes. "God, you're beautiful," he said, almost in awe of her. She stunned him every time. "My girl. My love. My Sparrow."

"My pretty little bird."

****

She gasped as his vibranium fingers brushed over her folds, gathering her wetness. "You know I'm gonna take care of you." It was soft. Raw. Honest. And she nodded. She knew he would.

"Love you," he murmured against the skin of her neck, inhaling her scent. He could get lost in it, he was sure of that. "Need you," she replied almost desperately. He chuckled low, it vibrating in his chest.

"Be patient."

He slipped a finger inside, pumping it a few times, earning a soft moan. He needed to hear more. He loved it. "You gonna sing for me, Frankie Girl? Hmm, gonna be my best girl and let me hear you?"

He added a second finger and she cried his name. He always had her so close to the edge. Every damn time. His fingers worked her expertly, making her moan louder and louder. Absolute music to his ears.

Her back arched and her toes curled. Legs shaking she came hard, a long low moan escaping her perfect lips. He leaned over, kissing her passionately as he worked her through her release.

"Always so good for me, aren't you? Does exactly what her Daddy wants?"

Her eyes fluttered shut and she nodded. He chuckled again, his flesh fingers trailing up the inside of her thigh. She opened her eyes and he was watching her closely. He loved how responsive she was to his touch.

They didn't make them more perfect than Frankie. He was convinced of that. Everything about her set him ablaze. Lit a fire inside him. And it burned so brightly. Just for her.

"Need more?," he teased with a wicked smirk and she nodded again, a small 'please' uttered. He'd give her anything she wanted. Without question. He'd give her the world.

He sighed softly, trailing his lips up the inside of her thigh. She huffed impatiently when his lips ghosted over her core. "So, so impatient, little one. You know I'll give you exactly what you need," he promised, emphasized by his tongue darting out, tasting her.

"Always so good."

He growled, a deep, feral sound. Like a wild animal hunting its prey. It made her moan in response. "Good, good girl," he purred, his tongue flattened against her, a long lick from her entrance to her clit. His tongue swirled over the bud and her hands flew into his hair.

A harsh tug made him growl again. He loved it when she did that. Turned him on like nothing else. Absolutely every damn time. "Mhmm," he moaned, repeating his motions several times, making her cry out.

He sat up on his knees and took in her fucked out state. Her hair was messy, her lips were parted just a bit. Her eyes were dark, hooded, as she looked up at him. He grinned as she propped herself up, watching as he lazily stroked his cock with the metal hand.

"Dirty girl," he teased, watching her bite her bottom lip at his ministrations.

He slid into her, slowly, taking his time. Letting her feel every inch of him. The ridge of his crown rubbing against her walls. She was squeezing him so tight and he had to close his eyes and bite down on his lip to keep from shooting off too early.

"You gonna come?," he panted, feeling her flutter around him. She nodded furiously, words escaping her. She dug her nails into his back and completely let go, a loud cry spilling from her lips. His release followed, unable to keep it at bay any longer.

****

"I love you, Sparrow," he whispered, his lips pressed against her head, pulling her into his side as they lay back on the mattress. "I love you, Buck," she replied.

"So glad you're home."