Ive Been Waiting For So Long || Tony Stark X Pepper Potts SMUT

I’ve been waiting for so long || Tony Stark x Pepper Potts SMUT

WORD COUNT: 1754

SUMMARY: Tony & Pepper’s first time.

WARNINGS: pure smut ☺

AUTHOR: Killer raccoon

It wasn’t because she had any question about her feelings for him, or even any question about his for her. It was just a big change for both of them. They both had so much at stake- they had gradually become the center of each other’s universe, so to speak. Well, she knew Tony would always be his own gravitational force. But she also knew that he needed her, even if his world didn’t revolve around her, it couldn’t exist without her either. They both had a lot to lose.

Tony was being a gentleman, waiting patiently for Pepper to be ready for intercourse- even if it was really hard for him. Of course that didn’t mean they didn’t have some fun together. They were adults with a decade long relationship who were in love and very sexually attracted to one another. But Tony always stopped himself before it got too far, or else he feared it would be impossible to stop and he didn’t want to be a jerk or get testy with her.

 Pepper had spent the night several times, but they mostly kissed, fooled around and slept tangled together. He hated when she left for the night so even if it was incredibly difficult to keep his hands to himself it was better than her leaving him alone every night.

 After the invasion of New York, all bets were off, everything changed-including Tony. He almost died and Pepper didn’t want any regrets. She wanted to anchor Tony to something solid and good, he seemed worried and a little more distant. She wanted to take him in her arms and make him feel safe and loved and show him that she believed in his commitment to her. She began spending almost every night with him-afraid to leave him alone.

 It had been a week since the attack. They both had long days of work but Tony was focused on upgrading his suit for the next potential threat and she had to drag him from the workshop up to clean up for bed. She laid out his sweats for him and changed in the bathroom. He laid in bed, waiting for her to return, he was always happy she was there. When she joins him on the bed he immediately begins kissing her. It isn’t too much or an unwelcome advance, she needs him too.

 He touches a bit of bare skin on her hip between her pajama pants and where her tank top has ridden up to expose her tummy, he’s stroking it gently before he drags his rough fingers across the expanse of her midriff to the front of her stomach, right above her low hanging pants. His touch is like fire on her skin, he pauses. She leans up and whispers in his ear “don’t stop there- please don’t stop.”

 He pulls back and stares at her, mouth slightly ajar. She nods a little. She is ready.

He leans back down and kisses her again, slowly but deeply. When he pulls back, he sits up a little so he can position himself to remove her pants. She lifts her hips to accommodate his movement and he swears he can hear his own pulse pounding in his chest. When he’s tossed her pants off the bed she reaches for the hem of his shirt and removes it, tossing it beside her discarded pants on the floor.

 His skin feels amazing against hers. When he is back beside her, hovering just over her, she places her hand gently against the arc, feeling the faintest whir below her fingertips. The last time she actually touched it she was panicking and replacing it- an entirely different experience. His big brown eyes are locked on hers, they are both exposed and vulnerable. After a moment he places his hand over hers and brings her fingertips up to his lips for a gentle kiss.

 She moves her hand up to cup his check and pull him down for another searing kiss as he moves between her legs. She wraps her leg around his hip and begins to slowly grind against his growing hardness as they continue to kiss. She is getting really hot. He can faintly feel her nipples through her tank top. He reaches between them to trace his fingers over the soaked crotch of her panties. She is already so wet. The touch makes her jolt- but it is too brief. She begins to desperately tug at the waist band of his pants, she wants them gone, she wants more contact and less between them. After a few attempts to push them down she begins to grow desperate and frustrated and he pulls back to abide by her clear desire.

 He pulls his pants down and his hard length bobs free against his stomach. He feels relief at the freedom. And the sight, and size, of him only turns her on more. She quickly removes her tank top and lays back down, mostly bare before him. The only barrier that remains is her panties. Her chest is flushed, a beautiful blush is creeping up her pale chest to her freckled cheeks. He is in awe of her. He places a wet kiss on her neck before he licks her and begins to suck at her pulse, marking her for his own.

She is rubbing her legs together attempting to relieve some of the pressure building up inside of her. His hand trails up her ribcage until it reaches her breast. He massages he briefly before slowly tracing his thumb around her hard nipple. Her hand is at the nape of his neck holding him against her as she beings to pant and undulate her hips against the empty space between them. When he comes up for air, he looks at her laid out before him. He moves between her legs and pulls her panties down in agonizing slowness. She misses him against her already. His warm body pressed against hers, shoulder to toe.

 When the final barrier is removed, he places his hands on her hips in a moment of uncertainty. She reaches down and places her left hand over his right and gives it a gentle squeeze before slowly dragging his hand beneath hers to where she wants his touch the most. He touches her gently, watching her face, watching how her eyes close, her mouth gasps on that first contact. Her other hand blindly reaches out for his. Their fingers tangle on the bed beside her hip and she is gripping his hand fiercely as he slowly caresses her open and she moves her hips against his hand begging for more.

 He wants to taste her but as he leans down- she tells him she won’t last and she wants him inside her. He’s grateful. It’s been a long time and he could use some relief, and he settles for licking his fingers clean, savoring his first taste of her.

He reaches over into the night stand for lubricant. Her pulse is quickening, even though she didn’t think that was possible, as she watches him prepare himself for her. He is so hard, she hasn’t even gotten a chance to touch him. She reaches out to help stroke the lubricant over him, together they slide their hands over his length. It’s a brief encounter but there will be plenty of time for that later. He lays her back down and positions himself. She is incredibly wet as he is rubbing his head over her opening, increasing her anticipation in a slow tease she can barely stand.

 He finally takes mercy on her as he lines himself up and takes one deep, long, slow thrust inside. When he is fully embedded inside her he hears her squeak. He looks at her face for reassurance. Her eyes are clouded and unfocused, she asks for a moment to adjust. It’s been a long time and she is a little tight.

 He reaches out and pushes a piece of her hair behind her ear, and then places his hand on her neck, tracing soothing circles with his thumb, back and forth, until she is ready. He is waiting for her signal and taking in every feature on her face. When she lifts her leg over his hip he begins a slow, deep grind against her, not wanting to rush. They move their pelvises together, slowly building passion until he is desperate to pull back and thrust against her. She can tell what he needs- she needs it too. She trails her hand from his shoulder blade down to his supple butt- gripping it to let him know its okay. He follows her lead and begins a stream of harder thrusts against her.

 They make love hesitantly. When he feels he can’t take anymore he reaches down between them and slowly rubs her clit., hoping to make her cum. He bends over and simultaneously takes her hard pebbled nipple into his mouth and begins to suck. That does the trick and she cums hard, gripping him like a vice and crying out against him.

 He places his head on her chest, between her breasts, thrusts five more times and begins to cum himself. He pulls back and stares into her eyes as he is emptying everything he has inside her. He bursts over and over again.

 He lays his head back down and they don’t move for a few moments. He can feel her sweat begin to cool against his face as she rubs soothing circles on his exposed cheek before he finally moves. When they separate the cold air hits his drained cock with a hiss. Not wanting to leave for the bathroom, he fetches his sweats from the floor by the bed and moves to wipe them both clean before pulling the blankets up and over them. She is touched by his tenderness and already missing his closeness, feeling emptiness where he recently occupied.

 They lay in bed facing each other, her hand on the pillow beside her head. He reaches over and takes her fingers in his before scooting closer to her and rolling onto his back. He takes her hand and places it gently over the arc- resting his hand on top of hers before she snuggles even closer into his side and drapes her leg over his.

 “That was worth the wait” she says softly.

“Baby.. I never knew I was waiting for anything until you” he says back, smiling at her.



The chronicles of the winter || Part XI

Part II  || Part III || Part IV || Part V || Part VI || Part VII|| Parta VIII || Part IX || Part X continuation of imagine 

Word Count: 6770

Warnings: strong language, blood and injuries

Author: Beast

"You're safe, you're safe…"

The words reached him gradually, spoken softly and warmly as his tentative grip on reality tightened. He felt awful, head swimming and senses dulled. He wanted nothing more than to give in to the lull of sleep, to let go of consciousness and fall back into the waiting darkness, but he knew that would leave him vulnerable. The awareness of his own body was painfully slow to return. He was lying on something soft, his shoulder ached with a pain like broken glass in his head, his mouth was far too dry and something was touching him.

For some odd reason, he wasn't as panicked as he thought he'd be. Concerned was a more accurate word; concerned about what was near him and who was speaking, but the voice was comforting and gentle, and his guard wasn't so quick to build up. It was familiar in some odd way that he couldn't quite put his finger on; it was nothing like the barking orders and fearful murmurs of the white-coated men who pulled him from the icy depths of cryostasis. He couldn't have been in cryo for that matter, he felt too warm for that, and waking from that death-sleep never happened on something soft; he always awoke strapped down on a metal table, alone.

Movement in front of him; someone was standing, walking away. He heard wooden floorboards creak softly underfoot. Not in the facility. That was assuring, but also alarming. Where the hell was he, if he wasn't back there? Memories came back in a fuzzy tangle of pain and confusion, not at all clear and providing no answers. All he could definitively pick out was running, running, running, and suffocating pain. It was too much of a jumbled mess to make sense of.

Testing his body was difficult. The pain was sharp enough to register through the programming, indicating that something was damaged severely. His thoughts were too sluggish for him to adequately catalog his own wounds in his mental checklist to relay to his handlers. Wait—the handlers are dead. That realization forced his eyes open, mind in desperate need of affirmation for that line of thought. The light, however dim it might have been, was oppressive and overpowering. He blinked several times before he could make out any semblance of detail. The walls were painted a warm, light color, with pictures and furniture scattered around the room. It was nothing like the sterile space he typically woke in. Everything about it was different, but not in an uncomfortable sort of way. He could see a pile of bloody clothes—mine?—off near the door, and was suddenly quite aware of how defenseless he felt.

"… Bucky?" the voice was so sudden it caused him to twitch, body suddenly tense and ready to spring when he caught sight of someone peeking in from a doorway across the room. His vision was still blurry but he thought he recognized him. When the person stepped closer he was sitting up in an instant—and instantly regretted it. The sharp movement caused a burst of warmth on his shoulder, choking down a yelp at the intense pain. He chanced looking away from the man, metal hand cautiously touching the back of his shoulder. The limb lacked tactile sensation, but he did determine there was something spongy and yielding there, and when he removed the hand, the fingers were covered in fresh blood. My shirt was removed and wounds tended to. Did the man do this?

The couch, he'd realized he was lying on one a few seconds prior, dipped slightly as the man sat down next to him, keeping enough space between them so he wasn't crowded. The fact that he had approached without him noticing was enough to alarm the asset into immediate guard. He pressed himself against the arm of the couch, back against it and wound as far away from the other as he could get it. He studied him intently, looking for any weapon or any item that was a danger. He was ready to defend himself at the slightest provocation.

"I brought you some juice, if you want something to drink." The man with the bright eyes spoke softly, offering him a clear plastic cup filled about halfway with the liquid, smiling at him with familiarity. It was brightly colored and somewhat unusual looking, but it smelled rather pleasant and his dry throat was suddenly at the forefront of his awareness. The confusion surrounding how he got here was still taking precedence in his mind, but the man, he remembered something about him. His voice was the one that had said he was safe. His hands were faintly stained with blood and his shirt was marred with it as well. He must be the one who treated me. He wasn't entirely sure why that thought was comforting, but it was.

Moments passed with no movement between the two, the assassin distrustful and rightfully wary. Kindness and compassion were both incredibly foreign concepts, locked out of him by layers and layers of ridged programming and conditioning. There had to be some reason this man was doing this. Was he being prepped for something?

He swallowed thickly, the dryness of his throat too much to ignore, and cautiously extended his metal hand out to take the offered cup. Eye contact was never broken, not giving the other the chance to do anything that could threaten him. The cup was fragile, thin plastic, and it took a little testing to make sure he wouldn't break it before he took it from him.

"Its orange juice," the man started, "I have milk or water if you'd rather have that?" was he asking for his preference? That was… he didn't really remember any time when anyone had asked what he'd wanted. He didn't respond and regarded the juice warily, but he eventually deemed it safe. It wasn't logical to go through all the effort of tending to his wounds just to poison him. Even with that thought in mind, his first sip was hesitant. It tasted overwhelmingly sweet, enough so that it almost made him gag, but he was so thirsty he probably would have taken just about anything.

Emily was standing on the corridor, listening to the conversation of two men. She sighed sadly, knowing that something was about to happen..

"Will you let me look at your shoulder?" the question was entirely unexpected, causing icy eyes to cut over to the other man, "It's bleeding again, and I'd like to get an actual bandage on it, if that's alright with you." He was asking his permission. The concept was almost intangible to his methodical mind. He had rarely been told what was happening to him, let alone given anything resembling a choice; when things needed to be done, things were done, and he had no say in them. He was interested in his wellbeing, so perhaps he was a new handler, to replace the ones that were dead.

"One round, sniper rifle, distance of several blocks." He repeated all the information he knew about the injury, "Bullet didn't exit, needs extraction." His voice was monotonous, not looking away from the man at his right. Several moments of silence passed before he watched the other man retrieve several items from the floor before sitting back down next to him, much closer this time. In response the soldier moved, sitting so that his back was to him so he could reach the wound easily. He was operating on programming and instinct, otherwise he never would have turned away from him.

"I'm going to take off the bandage now, let me know if it hurts and I'll stop." His voice was still that gentle tone that held a familiarity that he couldn't place. He didn't respond, just sipping the juice he had been given as he felt the other peel the blood-soaked fabric from the wound. To distract himself he tried to focus on the events that ended with him waking up in this place. He remembered something about the Strike team, about HYDRA, about desperately seeking out someone, about Robrax.

The asset tensed absentmindedly when he felt the other man dab at the wound with a cloth, wiping away the blood. He heard a hastily mumbled "sorry" from behind him before the work was continued, gentler than before. Minutes passed in silence, with the weapon sitting stilly and obediently as the taller man cleaned and dressed the wound. The disinfectant stung but he didn't show any discomfort, allowing him to clean the wound thoroughly as he let himself be lost in his own thoughts.

A hazy memory trickled into his mind of a cold and dimly-lit apartment, with himself and someone else sitting on a ratty old couch covered in moth-eaten blankets. The other person was scratching the stub of a charcoal pencil into a small sketchbook, bundled up in as many of those pathetic-looking blankets as he could and sitting as close to—me?—as was physically possible. He remembered feeling Steve, his name was Steve, shivering horribly even through all those blankets. It was winter, he'd just gotten over pneumonia, and he remembered how scared he'd been thinking he was going to lose him. But... why did he remember this? Were those memories actually his?

"… you still draw, don't you, Steve?" the soldier suddenly questioned, the degrading programming loosening its grip on his awareness now that he was fully awake. The other man, he remembered his name now. He was Steve Rogers. Captain Steve Rogers. He was the only face he could recall with any clarity, therefore he had to have held some significant importance to him at some time.

"I—" Steve faltered, finishing up wrapping gauze tape around his shoulder to hold the sterile packing in place, "Y-yeah I do, Buck. You… always liked watching me draw." His voice was tentative and hopeful, something the asset made immediate mental note of. He heard Steve putting away things behind him, and he took it as a sign that he was finished.

"… do you still keep a sketchbook?" the assassin wasn't sure why he was so interested, but the memory had been rather clear and he took it as an opportunity to possibly learn if it was real. He tilted his head to glance back over his shoulder, and saw Steve nod slightly. "Can I see it?" he wasn't used to asking questions, to voicing his own thoughts, and he felt a need to try it. Seeing the smile that broke across the other's face was oddly rewarding.

"Of course you can." Steve nearly fumbled over his own words, eyes alight with some emotion he couldn't place, "Here, Bucky." A shirt was held out to him when he turned to face him fully, "Your shirt was ruined, so you can use one of mine." Blue eyes regarded it somewhat warily, but he took it from him regardless. It was little more than a plain grey shirt, but it was appreciated. "I'll go and get you some more juice and my sketchbook. I'll be back in a moment." The empty cup was retrieved from his hand, the assassin not startling at the sudden movement, before the man left the room. Bucky. There was that name again. His name. He dimly recalled it—yes, it was his name.

The shirt was a little difficult to put on with his arm and shoulder injured, but it was managed. The horrific grinding and popping of his joint when he pulled it over his head confirmed that the injury had to be set. He added it into his mental list of injuries. The garment was a little big on his thinned frame, but it was clean and comfortable. It had a somewhat familiar scent to it as well that he couldn't quite recall. Even in as much pain as he was, he felt better than he had in a very long time. Not physically better; he felt absolutely awful physically, but maybe a little better mentally.

He had confirmation that his name was the same as the Sergeant memorialized in the museum, and that this other man was the same Steve that he could dimly remember. There was still an odd disconnect between himself and his past, between himself and the man known as Bucky, but this was a fragile thread that tied him back to it. There were a lot of blank, empty spaces where memories should be in his mind, and he doubted he'd ever get everything back, but this felt… right? Being here with Steve felt right. Yes, he was fairly certain this was the right thing to do.

Tired eyes caught sight of a few folded blankets on the floor near his feet. He might have just regained consciousness but he still felt absolutely exhausted and drained. One of the blankets was picked up, wrapped around him tightly to try and block the cold. It was one of those odd constants that never left; cold seemed to follow him like his own shadow, sinking teeth of ice into his flesh every waking moment. No matter what he tried he never could seem to warm himself up. He curled up tightly under the fabric, feeling a tentative safety for the first time in a long while. All the running and fear and paranoia was starting to melt, bit by bit, as he allowed his eyes to close willingly. By the time Steve returned, he had already dozed off, huddled against the arm of the couch with his back to the door; a small, fragile sign of trust. It was the first deep, peaceful sleep he could remember since he woke from stasis.

When he opened his eyes this time there was no light, the space dark and silent, the reason for just why he was awake unclear. Several moments passed before he realized he was staring into fabric; the back of a couch, he determined. Unease breathed at the back of his neck, but nothing seemed outwardly wrong around him. However, something still felt off. His memories were slow to catch up with his awareness, but he pieced together where he was soon enough. This time his return to consciousness didn't come with any overwhelming paranoia, just a faint acknowledgment of his surroundings; it was a first for the soldier.

He hadn't moved at all since falling asleep, the skill of remaining completely motionless honed into a fine art. It was an ability he'd possessed even before HYDRA's conditioning; he half recalled something about sniping. The downside was that he was now rather sore, and he was sure the injuries he'd sustained earlier in the night had only been compounded by his lack of movement. He'd slept on his right arm, which hadn't done his dislocated joint any favors. He would be sure to alert his new handler to the injury come morning.

There was a momentary lapse before he corrected his thought. Not handler, Steve. The man was an odd sort of mystery in his head. He wasn't a handler, wasn't a white-coated tech, wasn't anything he was familiar with. Steve was Steve. He was a strange exception in a world of ridged rules and protocols. Normally such an obvious outlier would make him nervous, but Steve's presence was comforting and nonthreatening and achingly familiar.

Movement was difficult; now that the adrenaline and shock had worn off he felt the full force of the pain. Every muscle seemed to ache, a deep-seeded burn that spread from his skin to the deepest parts of him. His prosthetic creaked and the servos whined pitifully, the weeks of abuse and ill-care wearing at it. Getting into a sitting position took much more effort than he expected, but now that he had a clear view of the entire room he felt a little safer. The tentative feeling of security let him will himself to take stock of his situation.

The room hadn't changed except for the light having been flipped off, but the darkness was of no hindrance. He could see rather well at night, but whether or not that was inherent or due to HYDRA tampering he wasn't sure. Despite the fact that this place exuded a sense of safety that he'd never experienced before, checking the perimeter and his surroundings was so ingrained in him that he felt a compulsion to do it.

As he moved to get up, he noticed there was a second blanket covering him. Or had been, before he sat up and caused it to tumble off of him in a heap. Absentmindedly he reached out to pick it up, wincing a bit at the metallic whine of his artificial joints and tendons. Several of the plates were jarred out of place, clanking together unnaturally and restricting his range of motion. Dried blood mired the reflective surface, coming not from himself but from nameless HYDRA agents. As soon as he had recovered enough to be effective, he had gone and destroyed every safe house he knew of, killing every HYDRA agent he came across. He was going to destroy HYDRA all on his own if it came to that; they were going to regret ever having created him. He'd see to it.

"Mm, Buck?" the sleepy hum of the Captain broke the silence, the soldier's eyes cutting over in that direction. He hadn't even noticed the other man had placed himself in a nearby chair, now-open eyes regarding him tiredly. Keeping an eye on me? Making sure I don't escape? The second thought made his brow furrow a bit. No, that's not right. He somehow just knew that wasn't why he had opted to rest out here instead of returning to the bedroom.

The asset didn't respond verbally, but gave him a brief nod before he carried through with picking up the blanket. The nervousness was once again settling into the pit of his stomach, the sort of feeling he expected prey felt before a predator sprung from the shadows. It was such an unfamiliar feeling, as he was usually the lurking predator in question. He could hear Steve stretching and moving to get up, so he decided to remain seated; he had a feeling the Captain would fuss if he tried to get up and walk with his wounds.

"Feeling any better?" the other's voice was far too bright for it being so early in the morning. The assassin just watched as he tapped at a phone, glancing to him after the screen lit up. He took a moment to check himself mentally before he responded. His metal fingers hesitantly relinquished their grip on the blanket, instead wrapping gingerly around his shoulder joint, where the Captain had dislocated it in their struggle.

"… arm hurts." He mumbled quietly, lacking the robotic, monotonous quality that had previously dominated his voice. He knew that the Captain had seen the deep bruising and discoloration around the joint, as the bullet wound was plastered in the middle of it, but he was well aware that there was likely little he could do for it. Even he wasn't sure if it was just a dislocation, or if there was a fracture as well. The frown that appeared on the other man's face at his words was enough to make the nervousness he was experiencing leap to the front of his mind.

"We'll get it looked at, don't worry." His voice was always so soothing, "But…" discomfort, possibly even fear crept into the other's tone suddenly, serving to heighten the soldier's apprehension. His gaze was at his phone again, tapping his finger against it nervously. "… we can't stay here, we need to get somewhere safe." The sense of urgency was contagious, it seemed. The hairs on the back of his neck were on-end again, and the assassin was on his feet in a few seconds.

"Buck, are you sure you're alright to be up and.." the glare he directed at the Captain was much more threatening than he meant it to be, but he got his point across as the rest of the man's sentence withered in his throat. He wasn't fragile, he wasn't to be coddled; he was a weapon that was damaged and malfunctioning, not broken and useless. Weakness wasn't tolerated, his handlers had made sure to drive that into his programming.

"Give me a minute to get ready and get you a jacket, then we've gotta move out." Those were words the soldier remembered and associated with. Location compromised, moving to safety. It must be why he woke up; HYDRA must be closing in. It was enough to make his muscles stiffen with readiness, not wanting to be taken by surprise like last time. They wouldn't have that luxury. Not again.

 Emily also had packed some necessary stuff earlier. She was standing in the middle of the room, with a backpack hanging over her shoulder.

“Guys…” she whispered. “We don’t have much time.”

Waiting was not in the Winter Soldier's repertoire, and instead of remaining still he was up and moving. The pistol he had dropped earlier was retrieved, inspected and placed into his pocket. There wasn't a lot of ammunition left in it, but enough to be useful. He'd done more damage with much, much less. Now that he was up he decided to do that perimeter check he'd been planning on. Steve was doing something in his room, so he avoided that room and checked every other one. His pass through the kitchen produced the knife he'd left that first night, still sullied with the Captain's blood, and a worn sketchbook. There was a twinge of guilt in his stomach that passed quickly as he placed the blade back into the sheath at his ankle. The small book, likely the one Steve had been bringing to show him, was tucked into his pocket.

The dull, aching burn in his muscles was pushed out of his awareness; now that there was a clear threat to him all pain was ignored. It was how he had been conditioned, trained and taught; pain was a weakness and only useful for determining damage after a successful mission. He hated to admit that he was nervous, but he was. He had the beginnings of fragile trust in Steve, but this had the makings of a trap. Suddenly relocating after arriving? Departing hours before the sun rose, when no one would ever notice their passing? It was enough to set off warning bells in the soldier's mind.

"Buck," the Captain's hesitant voice broke his thoughts, eyes cutting over to where the other man was peeking in from the door, "Are you ready?" again with questions, again with asking him things. It was still a strange and unusual concept to the asset, used only to demands and orders. He responded only with a curt nod, taking a jacket that the other offered to him. It was somewhat big on him, but worn and soft and comfortable nonetheless. Nothing like the rigid combat gear HYDRA had outfitted him with. In a way he felt vulnerable, missing the reassuring weight and constriction of his body armor.

Steve had a small pack slung over his shoulder, the contents of which the soldier didn't know, and shield strapped to his arm. It was clear, however, that they were likely not coming back, not for a long time at least. There was no sentimental attachment to this place for him, he didn't have any sentimental attachments honestly, but he did know this place and knew it was safe in his mind, so leaving it didn't sit right in his mind. He did know, however, that staying would end in certain HYDRA custody or death.

Ushered out into the hall, the soldier only moved when prompted by his new handler. No, Steve. His senses were on alert, although still dulled and sluggish from the blood loss earlier. The sleep and bandaging had improved his awareness a bit, although even with his serum it would take a few more hours before he would be in a condition he was comfortable with. He just watched as Steve tapped at his phone, door pulled shut behind him. It was only after he read some text message for the fifth time that he suddenly froze.

"Shit." Now that got a reaction out of the soldier. He tensed up and stood perfectly still, the tone of Steve's voice setting off warnings and alarm bells that something was catastrophically wrong. His tone had been nothing but softness and warmth up until now; the swear sparked just the ghost of a sensation in his head, of cold wind and the smell of gunsmoke as he peered over a trench in some long forgotten battlefield.

"We need to move. Now." the words spilled out of the blond man suddenly, a hand grabbing his right arm without warning and tugging him down towards the stairs. Normally such an unexpected action would have warranted a swift punch to the jaw, but the startled tone in the other's voice alerted him that something was very, very wrong. He didn't resist, letting Steve lead him swiftly down the stairs and towards a back door, the other man mumbling the entire way about something about the text having been wrong. Muffled voices—HYDRA, Strike team—filtered through the walls from outside, formless shadows visible through the frosted glass of the front doors.

Subtly was thrown out the window as Steve kicked the back door open and bolted outside, the asset stumbling and fighting to keep up with the jolting motion. The man had yet to let go of his arm, guiding him through narrow alleyways and side streets in a path that seemed predetermined. He didn't know the plan, which was a source of anxiety in and of itself, but Steve clearly had something in mind, so for the first time he—trust was too strong a word—relied on the other's decisions to get them out of harm's way.

HYDRA agents were all over, dressed in varying uniforms of Strike and police and others he did not recognize. They shouted as they tried to corner them, seemingly appearing from nowhere from alleyways and cars and from behind objects. Steve did not engage them, instead pulling him along as he ducked and weaved dizzyingly between buildings and sleepy streets. He had a set destination in mind, the asset could tell, and even though the sight of HYDRA angered him into considering pulling away to fight, he knew it was too risky to separate himself from the Captain.

Unfortunately, HYDRA did that for him. There was a sudden, jarring shout from one of the alleys they were about to blow past, and before either could react the darkened space filled with blinding light and a concussive sound. Flashbang. Steve yelled something but the asset didn't hear, the grip on his arm lost as the other covered his ears. Even before the white left his vision, formless shapes surrounded them as agents appeared to spring from the very walls to box them in. Wordlessly, the assassin and the Avenger stood back to back, fitting into formation as easily as if it was something they did every day. The pistol was pulled from his pocket, knowing that even with little ammo it would be more effective at the moment than a knife. There was a brief flash of familiarity in his mind, but the situation around him drowned it out almost instantly.

"Drop your weapon and surrender the asset, Captain Rogers!" a husky voice barked out, a dozen barrels of a dozen guns aimed at them. He could feel Steve tense against his back, but so vastly outnumbered and outgunned any outburst now would likely end in one or both of them dead.

"… Steve." He wasn't sure just why he spoke, or why his voice was softened and hinted with an accent he only vaguely recalled, but he did. It was a sort of rash, sudden need to ground himself in the present, to remind himself that the man behind him was indeed the Steve he could so faintly remember. His statement, however, had an unintended consequence.

"The asset's compromised," that growling voice spoke again, "he'll need to be wiped and reconditioned if we're going to salvage this." That statement triggered an intense, shattering terror in the assassin the likes of which he could not recall. Broken memories of deafening electricity crackling madly, of being tied down and unresisting and passive, suddenly swam in his mind and broke through his calculating combat mindset. Without thought he pressed himself further against Steve's back, as if somehow he could hide from his own horrifying memories in the other's presence.

"Buck, it's alright," voice hushed and gentle, the Captain spoke only loud enough for him to hear, "You've got to work with me, we're going to work together to get out of this, just follow my lead." It wasn't worded as an order or command, and as such disoriented the soldier for a moment, but that fragile ideal of trust settled in to fill in the gaps and his only response was a slight nod that went unseen. They could do this. “Emily. I’m gonna take their attention, you need to run. If they will take us three, nothing will left.”

She nodded slightly and before the fight, she ran toward the nearest window. She stopped in front of it, taking a look back at her men. Steve was looking at her above his shoulder, he gave her a nod, so she followed his order and jumped out of the window, disappearing in the darkness of the night.

There was no warning for the HYDRA agents, shield thrown and colliding with several and incapacitating them while three expertly placed and near-simultaneous bullets downed three permanently. They moved in sync, still keeping each at their back even after separating and lunging at the ring of agents that surrounded them. The now-useless pistol had been abandoned in favor for a blade, which was used to swiftly and efficiently disable and kill two more agents before they could even fire off a round.

The resonant clang of the shield behind him let him subconsciously track the Captain's movements, even as he threw himself into the tangle of agents in front of him. He used the knowledge that he was wanted alive to his advantage, as he knew they wouldn't dare try to shoot him at such close range as it would likely irreparably damage him and they would lose their prized asset. It couldn't have worked better for him, as he was just as comfortable and deadly dispatching a target at close range as he was sniping.

An agent was slammed against the nearby wall, razored blade deftly sliding between neck vertebras to kill his target instantly. Without a moment's hesitation he was upon another, moving with all the predatory grace of a hunting cat, throat slit and body casually dropped as if it were little more than a discarded jacket. The remaining two agents in his field of view turned and bolted, and had he been on his prior missions of annihilating HYDRA installations around the city he would have pursued them relentlessly, but now he barely acknowledged their escape. Instead, he spun on his heel to where Steve was fighting, wasting no time engaging the remaining agents that swarmed him.

His blood-sullied blade dipped into the throat of a Strike member readying to shoot Steve's back, a gurgled wheeze of horrified shock the only noise that escaped before he was roughly shoved aside. Sticky crimson soaked deep into his jacket and clothes beneath but little regard was given to it; the horrors of his actions seemed as commonplace as any daily act to him after decades of repetition. Another HYDRA infantrymen lunged at Rogers with a stun baton, but the soldier intercepted him, slashing with a precise stroke that opened the man's torso as easily as a zipper. He fell noiselessly into a jumbled heap of blood and viscera at the Captain's feet, a non-threat.

Soon only a few hostiles remained, mostly stepping far back and firing as many rounds as they could at Captain Rogers. The asset refused to leave the man's side again, tucked up close near him in an effort to deter any more firing, and to his dim surprise it seemed to work. The agents backed away even farther, guns raised but triggers untouched, eyes locked on them. He took the brief lull in fire to glance at Steve for a moment, to assess his condition. He was on his feet, but blood had soaked his right leg from a bullet wound to the calf. A slash from a knife tore through his jacket and into his side, while red dribbled from his saturated sleeve from another entry wound. He was standing, for the moment, but the soldier knew that even with the serum the blood loss would catch him quickly.

Steve asked something, something about how he was holding up or the like, but the assassin didn't catch it. Instead his attention was elsewhere when his eyes caught a brief flash of light from the roof of a building two streets over. His heart fell into his stomach and his shout of warning was lost to the rifle crack when the realization hit. Of course, the bullet hit first, just not in the place HYDRA had wanted it.

The soldier had reacted instinctively, kicking the back of Steve's injured leg hard enough that he buckled. His sudden movement meant the bullet, aimed for a kill shot on the Avenger's heart, instead struck and slid off the slant of his shield and hit his collarbone. A second bullet, fired milliseconds after the first from a likely second sniper, caught him across his already-slashed ribs, blossoming open as if it were a grotesque flower. The strangled cry of shock and pain that left the man as he crumpled to the ground snapped something buried deep beneath HYDRA programming, and within a half-second he had grabbed Steve by his arm and pulled him into a small alcove between two buildings. He heard two more bullets strike the asphalt where they had been moments before, and knew that HYDRA was likely not going to take Steve alive.

All thoughts of the remaining HYDRA agents were abandoned at the sound of Steve's raspy breathing, the assassin leaning him against the building wall as to hopefully ease it some as he leaned down to his level. Even though the shield had absorbed most of the energy of the round, the wound was devastating. The bullet had shattered his collarbone, flesh torn and ripped and blood dripping freely. A dribble of the crimson stained the Captain's chin, breath labored and choking and heaved in and out. His lung's been punctured, probably collapsing. The second bullet had no doubt shattered his ribs, and the awful torn wound was jagged and blown apart by the unimpeded bullet's passing. It was a grim prognosis.

The sounds of the agents trying to regroup from the attack were hardly registered, hands pressed to the man's injury in a desperate attempt to stem the flow of blood. A pained cough escaped him, reddened mouth slackened open as he tried again and again to fill his lungs full to no avail. "B… B-Buck…" he slurred wetly through the blood, half-lidded eyes beginning to glaze over as unconsciousness loomed, "… got t-to… get… a-away…" shock was setting in, body trembling under the assassin's hands, but he mustered the energy to nudge him with the shield in a halfhearted attempt to push him into running. He wanted him to leave him behind, to save himself from falling back into HYDRA's control. The very thought of it twisted the soldier's stomach in a knot and caused his breath to catch in his throat.

"S-Steve," his normally-controlled voice was shaky and small, fear filling every inch of him as trembling, blood-stained metallic fingers brushed golden hair away and cupped the Captain's cheek to hold his gaze on him, "You've gotta hold on," his eyes began to sting as an unfamiliar heat and blurriness began to build, "I-I'm not leaving you behind." Something had woken up deep in his mind, faint ghosts of memories of battles long past. Of fights in alleys where both refused to run away, never leaving the other's side. It was such a strong emotion that consumed him that he couldn't ever hope to fight it, and strangely enough, he possessed no will to resist it.

Footsteps and barked orders behind him drew him from his withdrawn, focused state. It was like a switch flicking in his head, the sharp focus of combat and programming setting in, and within the space of a breath he had taken the shield from Steve's faltering grasp and spun around, keeping himself between the agents and his injured partner. His vision was blurred and his eyes stung fiercely, an unfamiliar wetness trailing down a cheek, but he didn't move from his defensive stance, rooted to the spot with shield held solid in his metal prosthetic. The plates whirled and slid together with a groan of protest, ready to lash out with the vibranium disk at the slightest movement.

"Get away!" he snarled in a voice so loud it startled the men, "Get away from him!" he swung the shield at an agent that dared to approach, knocking him clean off his feet and sending him tumbling. The sharp, ripping pain as his own shoulder wound tore caused him to wince, but it was immediately stuffed down as he had much more important things to focus on. Seeing their own knocked away so easily, even while he was in such a state, caused the others to take heed and back away a few feet. Even though his joint protested, he retrieved and hid a blade in the palm of his injured arm, keeping it disguised behind the shield. If they got close again they would be in for a nasty surprise.

"This is… unexpected." The same agent who spoke earlier piped up, rifle trained on the pair with deadly intent, "Looks like the programming has decayed more than anticipated. General Lukin isn't going to be pleased." That name was familiar, and struck a fear like a dagger of ice into the soldier's heart. He pressed himself back, shield held higher in a desperate attempt to keep the agents at bay. Steve moved behind him, whimpering in pain, and a moment later the former Soviet felt his hand press reassuringly to his back in a wordless gesture of trust. It was enough to steel his nerves, to dispel his own fear just enough to focus on the agents who had chanced to venture further.

With an almost animalistic roar, he leapt at the nearest agent, jamming the sharp edge of the shield into his ribcage, crushing it like a flimsy can. He dropped into a tangle of limbs, and he used the moment of confusion to swing at another, feeling the agent's skull cave under the impact. The shield was brought down on the neck of another agent, while the knife in his right hand pierced the torso of one rushing at him. As he swiveled to lunge at the seeming-commander he froze mid-strike, eyes wide with terror, when he saw that another agent had a gun trained to the downed Captain's head.

"No!" the word clawed its way out of him, shield and blade falling from his hand in a show of submission, eyes wide with feral panic. "D-don't do it." He'd never demanded anything from anyone, not in all his active years, but he was now. He was scared, desperate and out of options, pleading like one of his victims to spare the other man's life. The commander's gravelly voice broke into a laugh behind him, but before he could round on him he felt a pinprick on the back of his neck, followed immediately by a burst of warmth that spider-webbed through his body. His knees buckled and vision swam, awareness growing fuzzy as he collapsed to the ground. He gasped out Steve's name, tried to push himself back up, but he couldn't even prevent his eyes from sliding shut a heartbeat later. His hearing muffled, but the last thing he was aware of was that growl of a voice ordering the surviving agents to take the both of them before everything drained away into nothingness.

When I Take Over Control || Bucky Barnes x reader smut drabble

Words: 3959

Warnings: SMUT!

Author: Rouge

I hated Bucky Barnes. He was ruining me. He sent absolutely filthy texts to me at work, making my face flush and the afternoons long and miserable. I had to painstakingly pick tops and accessories that covered the bruises and love marks scattered across my neck and shoulders. My muscles were nearly always in delightful agony from our rough sessions together. He took any opportunity that presented itself to strip off his shirt in front of me. The pleasure he derived from watching me blush and try to tear my eyes away far outweighed any reservations he still had about his metal arm. He owned me and he knew it. Although HYDRA had tried their best to snuff out James Buchanan Barnes, the charming, cocky little shit he had been in the 40s had gradually reemerged. Bucky and I made a habit of going to the Tower’s gym together just about every day. He would work his body and fight his demons. He never voiced it, but I knew he appreciated my presence. He spotted me lifting weights, pushed me on runs and had insisted on teaching me self defense. It gave him a little peace of mind knowing I was strong and could take care of myself. He was also greatly amused when I constantly told him “Fight me.” after we spent a week on hand to hand combat. Bucky was usually all business while working out, but he was in rare form today. He spent the entire elevator ride up standing behind me, sliding his palms up my sides and groping my ass. When we reached the gym floor I stepped out ahead of him, dodging a very sweaty and tired looking Clint. Bucky nodded to Clint and followed me out of the elevator, landing a resounding slap onto my ass as he passed me. An hour later I had collapsed to the gym floor in a puddle of sweat. Bucky was lying on a bench across the room, pressing a bar that weighed more than two of me. As I lay there trying to breathe normally again, I took the opportunity to admire him. His bare chest and abdomen glistened with sweat and heaved with exertion. His gym shorts had ridden up slightly, and the brawny muscles in his thighs bunched as he dug his feet into the floor. His metal arm shone in the fluorescent light. The quiet whirring sound it emitted and the delicious grunt he huffed out with every rep made catching my breath more difficult. I was enthralled with every move his tantalizing body made. I pushed myself up off the floor and sauntered toward him as his bar clattered back onto the rack. He sat up and I bit the inside of my cheek as I leaned against the machine next to him. The veins in his forearms were bulging as he pulled his arm across his face, swiping away sweat. A stray strand of dark brown hair had fallen from his loose bun and was plastered to his damp neck. The sweat that had pooled in the dip of his collarbone rolled slowly down his chest. My eyes followed as it trickled its way to the waistband of his sweats. I swallowed heavily at the almost overwhelming impulse to follow the wet trail with my tongue. “Enjoyin’ the view?” I ran my tongue over the indention my teeth had left in my lip, still ogling him shamelessly. “Its the only enjoyable thing about coming here.” Bucky huffed out a short laugh and unscrewed the cap off his water bottle. “Better quit lookin’ at me like that, doll,” he took a long gulp of water, letting a droplet escape the corner of his mouth and trickle down his chin. “That door doesn’t lock and I’d hate to accidentally give somebody a show.” He sat the bottle down, fixing me with his clear blue gaze. “You know, I’ve always been a bit of an exhibitionist” I purred, brazenly meeting his intense stare. His stubbled jaw tightened. “But I think you have one more set left,” I smirked as I bent to grab his water bottle, giving him a up close look at my sweat-sheened chest. I straightened, removed the lid and took several long sips, being sure to let a significant amount of water escape and rush down my neck and through the valley between my breasts. Bucky blinked. I made a show of deeply swallowing and let out a satisfied and slightly sensuous sigh. I noticed Bucky’s flesh hand twitch and I relished in giving the teasing bastard a taste of his own medicine. I winked cockily as I pivoted and strutted across the gym to retrieve my bag, feeling proud of myself for finally gaining one small victory in this game we played. As I reached the treadmill where I had haphazardly dropped my bag, I heard the weights rattle as Bucky began to press the bar again. Bucky was always a silent worker in the gym. Heavy huffs were the only noises he had ever made. But the bastard was now grunting with every press. Husky, lustful sounds that made my core flutter. They were sounds I had only heard in moments of fiery passion. Blurred images of hot skin, gripping hands, rolling hips and euphoric cries flashed through my mind. I slowly turned back to face him as he brought the bar down for his last rep. He pressed it from his chest. Bare, shining skin, every muscle straining, a pornographic sight… and then he moaned. The fucker unabashedly moaned. Bucky deposited the bar back onto the rack and let his arms flail to his sides. As I stared, captivated with his immense, muscular form, his ribcage began to bounce as he chuckled. “What the hell are you laughing at?” I hitched my gym bag strap onto my shoulder and glared at him. Bucky just swung one powerful leg over the bench and stood. Pinning me with his lecherous gaze, he crossed the room in a few long strides. He stopped close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off his body, and the sweet musk of sweat, soap and leather surrounded me. The combination was potent. I fixed my eyes on his and tried to ignore the intoxicating effect he had on me. I inhaled shakily as his metal hand snuck its way to my skin. “You can try teasin' me doll,” his words dripped from his mouth like honey, smooth and decadent. He drew his cool metal finger down my side. “But it's a game you just won’t win.” The fog clouding my brain grew thicker the lower his hand drifted. The tip of his finger lightly curled just under the hem of my shorts just as his tongue dragged a short path from just below my ear to my lobe, which he delicately caught between his teeth. I involuntarily shuddered and he instantly stepped away. I blinked blankly into his face and exhaled sharply, my mind a muddled mess. Bucky winked. “See you upstairs.” He then spun on his heel and strutted out of the gym. I gaped at his broad back until he disappeared. The door slammed behind him, jolting me from my dazed state. Damn him. I knew what he wanted. He expected me to fly after him, a quivering mess of need and want, begging him to take me in every possible way. While there is absolutely nothing wrong with being taken every which way by Bucky Barnes, I was not going to do it this time. I was going to win a round once. I knew he would be in the shower, waiting for me to fling the glass door open and pull him under the water, throwing myself onto his wet skin, skimming my hands over every reachable inch of his chiseled form, tangling my fingers in his dripping hair… as I always did. But not this time. I stomped toward the gym shower, thankful that I had a tiny travel bottle of body wash and an extra t-shirt buried in my bag. I stripped and stepped under the near scalding spray. The water flowed through my hair and over my skin, the steam enveloping me for the next 10 minutes as I imagined all the indulgently dirty things I was going to do to Bucky Barnes. I knew I didn’t have long before Bucky would come back looking for me, so I hurriedly swept a towel over myself before shrugging on the oversized shirt. It stuck to my still damp skin and my hair left wet spots on my shoulders. I decided to forgo my sweaty underwear and shorts, making sure my shirt covered my ass and held the bag strategically placed over my front. I dashed for the elevator and prayed everyone else was otherwise engaged in the Tower. I breathed a small sigh of relief when I arrived at Bucky’s room without encountering any of the others. As I tapped the code to open the door, I bit my lip, shivering at the thrill of what was about to come. I let the door close with a bang behind me as I sauntered into the apartment, tossing my bag onto the couch. The bedroom door flew open and a very irritated looking Bucky stepped out. He had obviously just finished his shower. The ends of his hair were still shedding tiny droplets of water and several small strands stuck to his forehead. He glared at me, clearly disgruntled after being left to shower alone. He was also naked from the waist up, only wearing low-slung black sweatpants. Damn, if he wasn’t the most sinful looking piece of heaven I had ever seen. “Where did you go? Why do you look like you've already showe-…” He trailed off mid sentence, noting my appearance. His eyes roved over my figure, assessing my half dressed state. “What are you wearing?” he asked in a low voice. “A shirt,” I replied flippantly as I leaned over the couch, rummaging through my bag for my water. I exaggerated the stretch, making sure he got a glimpse of my bare ass. “Yours, actually.” I thought I heard him growl. “Tell me you did not come all the way up here in that.” His tone was menacingly calm. I straightened and faced him, tossing the cap from my bottle over my shoulder. “I came all the way up here in this.” Bucky’s eyes darkened. I took long swallows of water and stared back insolently. “What if someone had seen you? What if Tony had happened to step in with you?” I drained the bottle. “So what?” His jaw clenched and I grinned audaciously. “You’re mine.” I crossed my arms. “You don’t own me. I don't belong to anyone” Bucky took one slow step toward me. “You’re mine.” Then another. “You’re my girl.” Another step. “You’re my dirty little girl. It's my cock fillin’ your mouth and your tight cunt. It's my name you scream every night. No one else’s.” He was now so close that my breasts, bare under the thin shirt, grazed his massive chest. His soft breath in my ear contrasted with the rough stubble scraping my cheek. I wanted to give in. To fall into him, let him ravage me and indulge every lustful craving. But this time, even if it was just this once, he would fall apart under me. “You can’t resist me.” I tilted my chin, smiling defiantly up at him. My fingertips slithered up the inside of his right thigh and I squeezed his hardening erection. Raising up on my toes, I giggled airily, pressing against him until my lips brushed his as I spoke. “You’re so right.” Bucky’s breath hitched. I nibbled on his full bottom lip before sucking it between my teeth. And then I abruptly pulled away, pushing past him toward the bedroom door. “What the hell?” he rasped behind me. I bit back my smirk. Got him. “Is there something you need?” I inquired sweetly as I turned to blink innocently up at him. Bucky growled, his metal hand lashing out to grasp the back of my neck. I stopped its advance, clutching his forearm in front of my face. His eyes flashed beneath his dark brow. “I said, is there something you need?” I asked again forcefully, letting my gaze wander from his eyes, to his inviting mouth and back up. “You know what I need,” he whispered hoarsely. “Tell me. “I need you.” Say it,” I murmured. Bucky flexed his jaw. He loved being in control. “Say please, Bucky,” I breathed alluringly, releasing his arm and running my fingers over his stubble. “Say it and I can give you everything you want.” He sighed softly, his crystal eyes peering into mine. “Please… I want it.” “Tell me you need me,” I whispered against his lips. “I need you.” With his throaty plea, the desire consumed me. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” I teased as I kneeled in front of him. I slid my palms up his powerful thighs and hooked my fingers in the waistband of his sweats. My tongue skimmed along the line where fabric met skin from one hip to the other. As I gently tugged them down, I placed feathery kisses on every inch of newly revealed skin. When the pants dropped to his ankles I let my eyes travel up his frame. He was a solid wall of taut muscle. His hungry eyes were smoldering at me behind wisps of dark hair. He was the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen. I kept my eyes locked on his as I took the tip in my mouth and whimpered when the sweet taste of his precum coated my tongue. Bucky’s eyes dilated, dark pupils nearly blacking out sky blue. He brought up both hands to grasp my head, but I and snatched them away. “I didn’t say you could touch me.” Bucky arched a brow, bemused. I licked a long stripe from base to tip, still firmly squeezing his wrists. He sucked in a tight breath. “No touching” I ordered, dragging my lips along the underside of his cock. I released his hands and engulfed him in my mouth. Sliding my head up and down, slicking him and taking more and more of his length. Soon the head was hitting the back of my throat, producing a wet, choking sound. I took in a long gasp of air through my nose before pushing my head down, until he was fully sheathed in my throat and my nose had almost reached the short, black curls at his base. I swallowed around him, the walls of my throat massaging his girth. I gagged once and sat back. Bucky was clenching and unclenching his fists, his abs tightening with each gasping breath. I slipped a hand up the hard ridges and dragged my nails back down. His cock muffled my mewl. My other hand wrapped around his shaft and I began to jerk him as I sucked on the head. My tongue circled the tip with each pull of my hand and mouth. Bucky’s head fell back. His fingers flexed at his sides, battling the impulse to roughly grip my neck and fuck my throat as he so often did. Frenzied gagging sounds and guttural grunts filled the air. Saliva, forced out of the corners of my mouth with every plunge, rolled from my chin and slid down my throat. It was all so vulgar and everything I craved. Bucky tipped over the edge with a hoarse cry, swelling in my mouth. “Ah… fuck… ssshit…” He convulsed above me as pleasure wracked his body. I pressed my palm against him, and his warm, calloused hand gripped my wrist for support as he panted. The other came to rest on the back of my head, thumb stroking through my hair as I eagerly drank his load. I moaned around him, shamelessly begging him for every last drop. He was looking down at me as I slowly released him from my mouth. Chest heaving, pupils blown, eyes glazed over from his high. “Now.. Lay down.” Bucky blinked. “What?” I almost felt bad for impeding on his post-orgasmic bliss. Almost. “On the couch. Lay down. Now.” He took two steps back and lowered himself onto the couch, still looking slightly disoriented. “Don’t move” I murmured. I stepped up next to him, so close my knees brushed his shoulder. I lifted the hem of his shirt over my head, revealing my naked form underneath. The cool air raised chill bumps on my newly exposed skin. I let the shirt drop to the floor beside me. Bucky’s eyes never left mine as I brought one knee to rest between his head and the back of the couch. I placed the other on the sofa’s edge and my hands on the arm rest behind him. I could have come solely from the sight beneath me. Bucky was gazing up at me from between my legs, his eyes blazing with desire. His cool breath caressed my slick folds. I shoved a hand through his soft hair and tugged his face up to my pussy. “Make me come, Bucky.” He didn’t have to be asked twice, immediately running his tongue from my entrance to my clit. His hands came up to clutch my ass, burying his face in my cunt. The harsh scraping of his stubbled jaw on my inner thighs would be well worth it. He enclosed my bundle of nerves in his lips and began to flick his tongue over it while sucking gently. “Buck… Bucky, shhhit, oh god…” My high pitched whimpers and breathy curses filled the room. Both of my hands were twisted in his hair as I rode his pretty mouth. His fingers dug into the flesh of my ass and he matched my rhythm, tongue stroking from my dripping entrance to massage my clit with every roll of my hips. “Oh fuck… don’t stop… I’m so close, baby” I panted breathlessly. Bucky groaned against my sex and my legs trembled. His rough flesh hand stretched up and tangled in the hair at the nape of my neck. He wrenched my head down, arching my body back over him. His cybernetic arm wound around my waist, firmly holding my pussy to his lips, working my cunt for all he was worth. Alternating between delicately nibbling and sucking my clit, he landed a sharp slap to the back of my thigh that sent me spiraling into bliss. I trapped his head with my legs as I shuddered in pleasure. His unyielding hold on my hair kept me bent backward, broken and raspy screams falling from my throat. Eventually my muscles slackened and my cries faded to elated gasps. Bucky’s mouth lingered against my glistening folds, the tip of his tongue lazily lapped at my pulsing clit. His swollen lips kissed gingerly, and gentle tremors shook my body as I floated back to earth. I crawled down his body until I was straddling his waist, clasping the back of his neck with one hand and splaying the other through his long hair. He sighed at the sensation and I pressed my lips to his full mouth. His face was soaked with my orgasm. The taste of my arousal on his hot tongue drove me wild, and the moan that surged from my throat was swallowed by his fervid kisses. I was on fire, burning with the need to be surrounded by him, filled by him. I tugged his hair, yanking his head back and exposing his neck to my wandering lips. “Do you want me, baby?” I whispered, my tongue gliding out to taste his skin. “You want to fuck me into this couch?” A low moan rumbled in Bucky’s chest as he sat upright. He wrapped his cool metal arm around my hips, crushing my soft frame to his hard body. His other hand skimmed up my side and clamped onto the back of my neck. My palms grabbed at his shoulders as he stood from the couch, his massive strength sweeping me up as if I was weightless. He turned, delving his tongue into my mouth. I captured it between my lips and sucked lightly. “Put your mouth on me.” He obeyed instantly, dipping his head to slide his lips up the column of my throat. “Yes, baby… so good,” I whimpered as Bucky ventured lower, sealing his mouth onto my nipple, biting softly. “So good for me.” “Take me, James,” I purred. “I want you inside me.” Bracing one hand against the arm of the couch, Bucky guided himself to my opening, swiping his length back and forth through my wetness. “Now, Bucky,” I pushed, digging my fingertips into his ribs and wrapping my legs around the back of his thighs. With a throaty groan, he plunged forward, burying himself fully in one thrust. With both hands grasping the armrest, he ground his hips against mine, driving as deep as he could. All the air flew from my lungs as slammed into me with all the power behind his hips and arms. With each punishing snap of his hips, he hit a spot that made my head spin and my walls seize around his thick cock. “Yes, god… oh fuck, Bucky!” I screamed, clinging to him for dear life. Blinding ecstasy swept my body. His breaths came in irregular heaves and every muscle was trembling. I knew he was close to coming undone all over again. “No. Not yet.” “What?” he grated out. “You’re not done yet,” I gasped, reaching down to the firm flesh of his ass, jerking him flush against me. “I want more. Give me one more.” Bucky growled harshly and pulled himself from me. His hair was falling around his face, casting dark shadows across his glinting eyes. Sitting back on his knees, he towered above me, making a ferocious sight. Snatching my ankle, he hoist my right leg onto his metal shoulder. As he sank himself once more into my pulsating cunt, he tossed my left leg over the other. He planted his palms on either side of my head, his bulk forcing me into the cushions. Slipping completely from me before ramming his length deep into my center, he desperately drove me toward my undoing. My knees were pinned against my shoulders, and with every unforgiving thrust, Bucky reached a place within me he had never been. “Don’t forget to breathe, darlin’.” His voice was strained, betraying his struggle to keep his own end at bay. He held my gaze as our bodies, slick with sweat, fused together again and again. Hair wisped against my face and each breath he took fanned across my skin. I choked for air and clung to his immovable arms. His name was the only word I knew and it fell from my lips in broken gasps and moans, over and over with each euphoric surge that wrecked my body. As I writhed below him, Bucky lost control over his climax. “Shit baby, I can’t… fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come..” His body went rigid and his cock throbbed inside me. I felt the rush of warmth spread through my core. Prayers, pleas and profanities spilled from his mouth. With one final rough cry, Bucky collapsed on top of me. His forehead rested on my breastbone as he struggled for breath. My eyes drifted closed and I tenderly carded my fingers through his hair as we basked in paradise together. “Look at me.” His cerulean eyes peered into mine, so trusting and vulnerable. “I’m yours, Mr Barnes. Always.”

My little treasure || Part III

Teaser || Part I || Part II

WORD COUNT: 2930

WARNINGS: none

AUTHOR: Cass

It was only two days after whole Andrea’s accident. She stayed in S.H.I.E.L.D.

Andrea was looking at white wall still lying in her bed. Suddenly she heard a voice .

“Hey… How do you feel?” It was grant. He solely sat on Andrea’s bed when she sat up.

“Good… but I still feel bad… because of this what happened two days ago.” She said sadly.

Grant smiled softly and stroked her hair. “It’s okay, nothing too bad happened. Everything is fine now.”

Andrea sighed heavily and quickly broked down. She started cry. “No! It’s not! I’m a monster! Machine… next Hydra’s experiment!”

Grant looked at her. “Hey hey hey… Shhh…” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. “It’s okay now. Andrea… please calm down.” Grant said and pulled her onto his laps.

“But… l.. look… What I did… I hurt my dad… I wanted hurt you… Why… Why you tried to stop me… I could kill you..”

Grant stroked her cheek and sighed. “Because you are important to me. I wasn’t scared… I will always try to protect you… I could die for you.” He told her.

Andrea looked at him in shock. “G-Grant… what are you saying..”

“All I’m saying is…” He said slowly and kissed her. Andrea blinked but didn’t pull away, she kissed him back.

“I just love you.” He finished after braking the kiss “I will never let anything bad happen to you.” He said and Andrea only nodded. Grant laughed softly and kissed her again.

After few minutes they both jumped surprised when they heard angry voice. “Am I interrupting in something?!” It was Steve and this time he was really pissed.

Grant looked at Steve. Andrea also looked at him, he was really scared. “Dad…. I  just… I mean we…” Grant looked at Andrea.

“I can see what you two are doing! I told you, she is Hydra’s experiment. She showed what she is capable to. She is a dangerous creature!” Steve growled in a low voice of his.

Grant let Andre sit on bed and he got up. “No! She is not! I love her! And I don’t care anymore what you think about her. Because I LOVE HER!”

“And you are my son, MY son! And as long as I’m alive you will do what I say.” Steve grabbed Grant’s arm and pulled him out of the room. “I don’t care what you think about her. She is walking monster!” Steve growled at Grant.

He suddenly saw Bucky. “And you! Keep this thing away from my son!” Steve yelled at Bucky and left hospital with Grant.

Bucky blinked confused and watched as blond man left the building. “Um… it’s nice… to see you two too..” He said slowly and went to Andrea’s room.

Girl was hiding under her blanket, Bucky looked at this really worried. He sat on bed and rubbed her back.

“Go away Grant… your dad hate me…” She whimpered.

Bucky smiled “I’m not sure if my name is Grant.”

Andrea sat up and looked at Bucky from under blanket, “DAD!” She whimpered happily and hugged to him tight.

“Calm down, or you will break more of my ribs.” He giggled and hugged her back tight, “I missed you, little one.”

“How do you feel… w-what I did to you..” Andrea asked and looked at him.

Bucky only smiled at her “For me more important is how you feel but… I only have few ribs broken. I don’t know how many… I didn’t listen. I was more worried about my daughter.”

Andrea sighed and looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I… I didn’t mean to dad… I don’t know… I was so angry, scared. This rage, it ripped me from the inside. I wasn’t controlling myself. I’m sorry.”

Bucky looked at her and put his hand on her cheek. “Sweetheart… please, shhh. It’s okay, I understand, I good know this feeling.” He told her.

Andrea nodded and hugged to him tight. Bucky spend few hours with her before he had to go back.

Martha knocked to Andreas door. “Knock knock. How’s my favorite patient?” She asked and slowly sat on Andrea's bed .“I hope you feel better, Andrea. Just I wanna you to know that Bucky will be able to take you home soon, I hope you are happy.” She smiled.

Girl only smiled sadly and nodded “Yes… I wanna go home, to dad.” She said quietly.

“Andrea… something’s wrong? I can see that you are quiet… and I’m sure that this time it’s not because the thing that happened two days ago.” Martha sighed and got up from bed. She walked to girl. “Come on tell me..”

Andrea looked at her. Andrea felt bad because of everything. Because of thing that happened, because of Bucky and Steve and because of Grant. She told everything to Martha.

Martha giggled. “Finally my son had shown some balls…” She muttered to herself and sighed. “You know what… I think you shouldn’t think about this. Everything will be fine. Things like this won’t happen again, Bucky is quickly returning to health and Steve… He is himself, but don’t worry. I won’t let him separate you with Grant. Now… It’s getting late, you should try to sleep a bit, okay?”

Andrea smiled and nodded, now she felt much better “Thank you..” She said.

Martha nodded. “No problem Kid… I will be back at morning to check upon you. Good night and see you tomorrow.”  

Andrea spent few days in hospital, after this time Bucky took her back home.

Girl happily flopped on her own bed in her own home, Andrea sat slowly on bed and looked at Bucky. “Dad… I… can we talk about me? I mean… about what I am?” She looked at Bucky with her big puppy’s eyes.

Bucky smiled sadly and nodded, he sat next to her. “Just… remember, no matter what I always love you.” Andrea nodded “Sure… I love you too, dad.” Bucky smiled sadly. “So… it was fourteen years ago..” He began.

 ~~~~~~ fourteen years ago~~~~~~

 “Everyone's down?” Steve sighed heavily picking up his shield from floor.

“Well, no one shoots to us anymore, so I think yes, Cap.” Bucky looked around and smiled at his friend.

Steve nodded and put shield on his back. “So… Agents will go there and we will go to main lab.”  Steve ordered and few agents that were with them left them alone on the corridor “You okay, Buck?”

“I just…” He looked around again, Bucky felt really uncomfortable. “Just… bad memories.. but let’s go. We should check what those sick bustards were doing here.” Man muttered and started walking toward main lab.

Steve followed his friend.

Main lab was a huge room, filled with all kinds of weird things. Many books, boxes with documents. Photos of some creepy stuff.

Bucky looked at documents. “That makes sense…” Bucky muttered.

“What is it, Buck? What do you mean?” Steve asked.

“Look at those photos, Steve… they were experimenting on people, kids… even unborn one…” Bucky put few pages of documents on table.

Steve looked at them. “Yes… Look… This woman… She got missing few weeks ago.” He picked up documents and started looking trough them. “13 years old girl… pregnant woman… Man from store… Mother and her newborn son… Everyone that ever reported missing from city below.  Just reading their treatment makes me sick…” Steve shook his head and shivered.

“I never really met with such a cruelty from Hydra… I mean I knew they can be cruel…” Bucky muttered, walking around in room, checking under tables and other place where they could find something.

“I think it’s more like new… branch of Hydra. All those adults that think they can make Hydra great again… Like we can see they left really quickly… or those few that we met were last one in here. I have no idea.” Steve shrugged “I will have to move all those stuff to S.H.I.E.L.D, and I will have to send letters to families… You know… When we were at war. I thought it is hard, but it's harder than I ever thought.” Steve said and looked at Bucky.

But Bucky wasn’t really listening to his friend, he found small room. It had working light and it was warm. There was small bed inside, some toys, small clothes were laying on floor and on a small chair. “What the hell…” Bucky muttered and walked inside. “Bucky…” Steve blinked and followed his friend slowly.

Bucky looked around, room was really small, but only now Bucky could see pink walls covered in childish drawing, whole place looked better than whole place. Bucky also saw table with long  tablecloth. He could hear some quiet sounds from there. He slowly walked to table, man got onto his knees and slowly moved tablecloth up.

There was sitting a small girl. With short dark brown hair, she had big green eyes, small pink lips and she was really skinny. Girl looked at Bucky scared and moved herself away from man.

“Hey hey… shhh… look, I’m not one of those man. They were coming to you? They were bad? You are scared of  those man?” Bucky asked quietly.

Girl whimpered and nodded three times.

Bucky smiled at her. “Hey, we are here to help you, little one. We will take you home, to your mommy and daddy. Come on now… look I have this special hand… It will protect you.” He said and pulled out his metal arm toward girl.

She looked at him but after a minute she moved closer to him.

“That’s it. You are a good and smart girl.” Bucky said softly and wrapped arm around girl. Bucky hugged girl and got up from floor. “You are safe now, no one gonna hurt you.”

Steve looked at him. “What the hell are you doing with this child?!” Steve frowned.

“Calm down Steve… She is just a child, she’s not gonna hurt us.” Bucky smiled.

“Look at her! We know nothing about her. She is Hydra’s experiment. We don’t know what sit in her.” He growled and took his shield in his hand “We can’t let her live.”

Bucky frowned. “Are you kidding me? She is just a child.” Bucky said hugging again scared girl to him. “I don’t let you kill her, she is so small.”

“She is Hydra experiment. You think why they keep her alive?” Steve said.

“Then why you never killed me, Steve? I was an experiment too. Good man changed into killing machine by HYDRA.” Bucky said and looked at girl. “Let me take care of her… I promise… I will do everything.”

Steve frowned. “Fine…” He put shield on his back. “But if anything ever happen because of this thing… it will be only your responsibility.”

Bucky nodded and looked at girl. “You see… I told you.” He smiled when girl looked at him and smiled back. Her smile was still caused by her fear but Bucky could feel that she was really happy because she was safe now.

Whole paper work in S.H.I.E.L.D took a lot of time. Bucky saw girl's documents but he didn’t like what Steve wrote there. He agreed at those words only because Steve promised she won’t ever see those documents.

Girl was sitting at big metal table in lab. Bucky stayed close, while Martha was examining her.

“She looks healthy, I mean. She isn’t sick… but there is one thing.. that made me worry.” She said and looked at Bucky.

“What is it?” He blinked, he started feel something weird inside. Since they found her, he got really attached to her. It was weird but nice feeling for him. It was something new, something that made him feel warm inside. He wanted this girl to be safe whole time. Was it because they shared similar life. Hydra's experiment, good person destroyed by sick people, loners found by good person. He had no idea… but he really liked this feeling.

“I mad X-rey. She has a metal hand…” Martha said.

Bucky looked at her and at girl. “Um… Sorry Martha.. but I don’t see it.” He said really confused.

“I also thought it but look..” She walked to girl. “Will you let me show Uncle Bucky the magic trick with your skin?” Martha asked, looking at girl.

Girl smiled at woman and at Bucky, she nodded and giggled quietly.

Bucky felt even more warm inside when he heard this quiet sound, he felt… good, he felt happy.

Martha nodded and slowly pulled off skin from girl’s hand “It’s some kind of… bionic skin, I think I will send it to Stark. He will know what to do with it.”

Bucky looked at hand “They… hide it… but why?” He walked to girl and took her small had into his hands.

Martha shrugged. “Maybe she had to be some secret weapon. We will never find out I think. But as far as I see she is fine. We didn’t find anything bad in her. She is just too skinny, but it will quickly go back to normal. You talked with Steve?”

Bucky nodded and sat on table, girl climbed on his laps by herself and put her hand on his arms. Then smiled at him. Bucky smiled softly “Yes I talked with him,  I want adopt her. Take her with me to home.” He said.

Martha blinked. “Are you sure? I mean we don’t know if she is 100% okay.”

Bucky nodded. “I was in similar situation too… Steve helped me. It’s time for me to help someone, we both are from Hydra's hands… Who else will be able to help her better than me.”

Martha smiled softly. “If you say so Bucky.” She nodded. “She is three years old but she doesn’t have a name.” She said and looked at Bucky.

“I thought about one… Andrea, I like this name. I think it will be perfect for her.” Man said and girl smiled at him.

Martha smiled. “Okay, fine. Better go home now. She needs rest, food, water and love.”

First few months with Andrea were hard. It took Bucky long time to figure out what girl like to eat and what she doesn’t like. What she likes to wear and what not.

Bucky was giving Andrea almost whole his time. When she was asleep he was preparing room for her. She was getting sick many times what meant that Bucky spent many nights with girl in his bed, making sure she is okay. It was hard, Bucky was making so many stuff at once that he slept when he could, while waiting at microwave to stop, when Andrea was with Martha at her research, during girl’s nap time.

But it all was worth it. After few months Andrea started talk, she started eat properly, she started smile more often, many night were peaceful for Bucky and for Andrea. Bucky lived moments that he thought will never come to him. Visits at playground, trips to cinema to see new move for children, walks to zoo. Bucky couldn’t be more happy than He was with his adopted daughter.

He was often leaving Andrea with Steve’s son and their babysitter. Steve wasn’t really happy because of this fact, but Martha was really good in calming down her stubborn husband.

When Andrea met Grant she was even more happy. Bucky had to learn her good manners, how to act around other people and explain girl that she isn’t weird but special.

Andrea looked at him. “Dad… m… maybe you aren’t my real dad, but I never knew my real parents… I love you… and… thank you for everything. All those sleepless night that you spend with me, all this time that you gave me trough my whole life.”

Bucky smiled and hugged her. “It was all worth it… Because now I have wonderful young lady… and she is my lovely daughter.”

“Dad… Can you do something for me?”

“What is it, sweetheart?” Bucky sighed softly.

“Can… can you do something so Grant will come here. Steve really made sure he won’t visit me… and… I miss him.” She said sadly.

Bucky smiled and ruffled her hair. “I will try my best. Now try to relax you are finally home.

Next Andrea got up really late. When she walked to kitchen she saw Bucky, Martha and Grant.

Grant saw her and quickly walked to her. “I missed you!” He said and hugged her really tight.

Andrea giggled and nuzzled to him. “I missed you too… soo much!” She whimpered happily. Grant smiled and kissed her, after a long kiss he looked at her. “I missed you harder…” He muttered happily.

Andrea giggled happily and suddenly realized that Martha and Bucky were watching them whole time. Grant saw how her face became red and looked at Bucky and his mother.

Martha was watching them, smiling gently. Bucky was looking at them with big smiled on his face. “I am puking rainbows!” He yelled and laughed “So cute. Go upstairs… She missed you. Just you two have to be quiet there.”

“Daad!!” Andrea whimpered and her face became even more red. Bucky only giggled and shook his head. “Go go, I will talk with Martha and think what to do with our cap.”

Andrea nodded and took Grant up stairs.

Martha smirked. “They look cute together… I don’t understand why Steve hate her so much.”

Bucky nodded “I don’t understand since We found her…” He said softly.

PLEASE, WAKE ME UP.

WORD COUNT: 1300

SUMMARY:  Tony has a nightmare.

WARNINGS: none

AUTHOR: Killer raccoon

It was the quietest morning there'd been in months, save the dull croak of the piano and the moaning of the floorboards beneath the pianists tapping foot.

Tony stood behind the rows of white chairs, stiff and unmoving, hands clasped tightly behind his back. Across the quickly filling room, Bucky noticed him and attempted a smile, but immediately his lips began to quiver and he turned down to look at his feet before Tony could try to return the gesture. 

Bucky, the only one in this room who fully understood Tony's presence here, the only man who knew what had been going on behind closed doors. Because Steve had insisted he know, had told Tony that if he couldn't trust Bucky, then what were they even doing?

Tony watched Sam slide in next to Bucky, place a hand on the man's shoulder and sit him down, and then Tony was alone again. Something he hadn't felt in years.

The more people filed into the room, the more sullen the mood became. Natasha sat on the other side of Bucky, and Clint next to her, and Tony's throat tightened in anguish as even Nick Fury, accompanied by Phil and Maria, made their way down the rows of chairs. It didn't matter if nobody had the time for a full blown ceremony: they made time. 

Sam had pulled him aside a few days ago to assure him that he'd be welcomed with open arms, but Tony had his doubts, and therefore kept his distance. He was somewhere deep in his own head anyway. He didn't even notice Pepper next to him, brows furrowed as she tapped furiously at her phone, or Rhodey, dressed up in his navy blue suit, hands also clasped behind his back, but in respect rather than anxiety. Tony knew he should have been one of the men carrying in the... but of course he chose to stand next to Tony, and in some lost part of his conscious mind, Tony appreciated that. 

But when the music slowed and died and what was left of the hushed conversations among the room was cut off, Tony was sure his heart stopped. He was able to keep himself composed, lips pursed and face blank, all of his muscles tensed to keep from shaking. However, when the first two soldiers stepped into the room, shoulders straight and hats in their hands, and Tony knew what would be following them, he fucking lost it. His breathing shortened, his head swayed dizzily, and before he knew it, he was busting through the side door into the empty hallways, straight towards the wall to keep him right side up. He pressed his forehead against the cool, brick walls, gasping for air. Luckily he was in the back, so he hardly disturbed anyone. 

But of course, one man had noticed. One man had dashed out after him, was now placing a hand on Tony's shoulder, gentle, but firm.

"Breathe." 

Both hands were on him when he wouldn't calm down, and he knew that they learned this in the military, he understood, but with the steadiness of his voice, with the serum, Bucky sounded and felt too much like Steve, all those restless, summer nights when Tony was kept up and he had been there for him, and it made everything worse. He couldn't get air into his lungs, his eyes spun in and out of focus, and he trembled violently beneath the other man's grasp. And who the hell was Tony to Steve, to be comforted by the dead man's best friend. It was absolutely unfair to Bucky, and Tony felt sick with guilt and selfishness. He turned around, gently pushing Bucky away from him.

"I'm sorry," He wheezed, and Bucky was shaking his head like Tony had no reason to apologize, but he absolutely did. 

Within the next few seconds, Rhodey was in the halls, pushing Bucky to the side to get to Tony.

"Thank you, Buck, but I can handle this." He said.

"I don't think you understand" Bucky protested.

"The hell, I don't understand." Rhodey snapped. "I know Tony better than he knows himself. I'm not stupid, and I'm not blind." He looked up to Bucky then, and his face softened apologetically. 

"Please, you are the last person who should have to do this. Go pay your respects to Steve. I'll take care of him." He said. Bucky nodded silently and turned to leave. 

By then, Tony was catching his breath, letting a warmth flood through him and calm his nerves, though his hands still shook hard. 

"You knew?" He asked quietly, and Rhodey, despite everything else, managed a smile. 

"You thought you could keep a secret like that from me? I mean, honestly, Tony." 

Tony huffed, just then realizing how foolish it was to actually believe that he had kept the relationship between he and Steve from Rhodey. 

"He's gone," he breathed suddenly, clasping a hand over his mouth in awe at what had just escaped, a electric shock shooting through him as the words rang true, and then Rhodey was pulling him into a hug, burying Tony's face into his shoulder. Tony clenched his teeth, refusing to cry, but breathed heavily through his nose, gasps shuddering through his body as he held it all in, and Rhodey became the only thing holding Tony in one piece. 

Steve was gone okay, and did Tony ever fully appreciate when he was around? Did he take the time to let him know that? Looking back, he knew it had always been a frantic, desperate rush of fumbling fingers and clothes strewn across the floor. Tony always thought they'd have time to take their time. 

Did he even ever tell Steve that he loved him? That he was doubtlessly, unconditionally in love with him?

Did he even know at the time? 

Tony shut his eyes tight, held on to Rhodey tighter in horror as his knees buckles. He could feel his heart wasn't going to hold together, could feel the world around him crumbling, and when he managed to open his eyes...

 There was darkness. Tony blinked once, twice, realized he was on his back. His hair, shirt, and the mattress beneath him were all soaked in sweat. Tony shot up, the force causing an immediate headache, and searched the room as his eyes adjusted to the dark. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, fear in his throat as he chanced a glace at the weight he felt against his hip. He sucked in a breath.

"Steve?" He croaked. There was a small, groggy yawn and then two large, muscled arms that peaked through the covers, revealing a half asleep, but definite Steve Rogers as he stretched, shifted to turn around, and put an arm around Tony's waste, pulling him back down and against his own body heat. Tony's sigh of relief came out as a choked sob, and he pressed his nose into Steve's chest in an attempt to muffle his sudden sounds. However, that startled Steve completely out of sleep.

"Tony? He tried to sit up, pulling Tony away from him and brushing his damp hair out of his face. "Tony, are you okay?" He was pouting at him as Tony quickly regained control of his emotions. 

"No, I'm not okay. I love you." 

Steve stared at him, confused in his half dream state, cheeks flushed with the heat of the summer night, hair sticking up in a way that warmed Tony's heart. 

And then he was kissing him, the slowest kiss they'd ever had, and Steve kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. Tony felt dizzy as Steve took his hand and pressed his lips gently to his wrist, the palm of his hand.

"I love you too." 

Smartphone || drabble

Words: 1059

Warnings: none at all

SUMMARY:  Bucky and Steve and their first time with smartphone

Request by: Anonymous

Author: Cass and Beast.

It was a day like many else before. Bucky, sitting on the couch at the Avengers' Tower, was playing with a little object in his hands.

Steve walked to him and looked at lil object. "Is it Stark's phone, Bucky? I think he told you to not touch his stuff." Steve muttered and sat next to his friend.

"Yeaaah, I've heard all this before, pal" Bucky shrugged slightly, moving one of his metal fingers over the screen. "I like to make him mad. Besides. It's only a piece of metal and glass."

"A piece of metal and glass that is really important for him, just like for everyone in these days." Steve only shrugged. "I have no idea what interesting is in those smartphone or whatever... In our times we didn't have stuff like this." He muttered.

"Heh" Bucky rolled his eyes. "That dude can't spend even 5 minutes without this device. I'm curious what he would do if I would hide it somewhere..." Bucky giggled under his breath. "Our century was much different, Steve. Maybe harder, but better."

"One day he will kick you out of here. You are cruel for him. Father's day and Stark gets a cup from you.. With words "I love my dad" and you HAD to add "Sorry Tony" using permanent marker." Steve rolled his eyes and looked at his friend. "What are you doing there?" He said and slowly looked at phone.

"Oh, c'mon Stevie!" Bucky poked Steve's leg. "I just wanna see his reaction" brunette got up and looked around. "Maybe here..." he approached the bookshelf and when he tried to put phone behind books, he accidentally unlocked the screen. "Fuck!"

"Hey, hey!" with flash hand he carefully moved his finger along the screen. "The fuck is that, Steve? I've never seen something like that before.."

"It's just a phone Bucky. I saw how Tony uses it, he just moves his fingers and touches it and the phone do whatever he wants."

"Lemma try this" Bucky, without a blink, started to click each of the icons on the screen. "Oh.. How many numbers... Mom.. Mostly to women. Precious informations" Bucky chuckled darkly.

Steve gently smacked Bucky in the back of his head. "Remember that those numbers can be also important for him." He said. "Maybe try to touch the other... lil picture on this phone." Steve said, he couldn't help said he became a bit curious.

Bucky looked at his pal. "Really, man?" he rolled his eyes annoyed. But he followed Steve's advice and he touched another icon. "Shit, man, I've just started recording... Wait!" Bucky raised his hand with the phone in it. "Hi, Tony! Don't worry, your phone is a good hands!" Bucky waved to the camera.

"Just don't kick him out Tony, please. Turn it off back. Now" Steve muttered. "Gimme that." Steve took the phone and returned to the couch. "What else can be here..?" Man said and looked at his friend.

Bucky eagerly followed his friend and jumped on the couch. "Hey, I wanna see too!"

"Stark is gonna kill us pal." Steve smiled softly and opened phone's gallery. "Oh... look at that, photos... and there is our video... shell we look at all photos?"

"Are ya kidding me, Steve?!" Bucky blinked. "Sure! We have to!" Bucky wrapped his metal arm around Steve's shoulders to see phone better.

Steve laughed shortly. "Sooo..." He started look trough photos. "So... there is Pepper... Rhodey in hospital... This new kid, Parker, and of course... photos with many different women... Now you Buck." Steve said and gave phone back to his friend.

"Pepper would be soooo mad" Bucky pretended to be sad. "Well.. Wait.. I recognize that funny thing looking like a bird." Bucky clicked the icon and entered Stark's twitter.

"You aren't good in pretending." Steve shook his head and moved closer to Bucky. "What is it, pal?"

"Once I saw how Stark was.. How he said.. Was updating his status on.. Twitter thing... Or something like that.."

Steve only shook his head. "I think I'm too old for this, Buck."

"Me too... But.." Bucky managed to use the keyboard.

STEVE & BUCKY WERE THERE. XOXO

After writing he presses on the "post it" button. "Done."

Steve laughed. "Soo! What now? Maybe he has some music here? I'm wonder what is he listening to."

Bucky tried to click another icon, but somehow he clasped the device in his metal hand and he crushed it. "Fuck me."

Steve blinked. "Yea! I told you." He frowned. "What now?"

"PAAAARKEEEEERRR!" Bucky yelled loudly.

"Really, Buck. What he's gonna do? He is just a kid." Steve muttered looking at his friend.

"PARKER, move your lazy ass here!!!" Bucky yelled again.

"What WHAT! What?! Aliens? Thanos? or something else what is very evil?!" Peter jumped into room really surprised and confused.

"Catch it, kid!!" Bucky threw crushed phone at Parker's direction.

“Woohoo! Wait! This is Mr. Stark's phone… What have you done?" He asked. Steve shrugged. "His fault." He pointed at Bucky.

"Traitor" Bucky poked Steve's shoulder. "I accidentally broked this. But.. Now you are holding this.. So.. None of my fault" he giggled.

"Um..." Peter looked at Bucky even more confused.

Steve sighed deeply. "Bucky, he is just a kid. You can't treat him like this." Man slowly got up and walked to Peter, he took the phone from him. "Go to your room. I will take care of this.”

Peter slowly nodded and quickly left the room.

~Few hours later~

"My phone... Where did I left it?” Tony muttered to himself, looking into every place where he could possibly left his phone. Kitchen -no. Bathroom - no. living room - no. Bedroom - no. "F.R.I.D.A.Y, do you know where my phone is?! If not, can you locate it for me?" He muttered deeply annoyed. "I can't do that Mr. Stark, but I want to inform you that Steve Rogers left something in your office.” Tony rolled his eyes and quickly went to his office. He saw something on his desk, he also saw small note. Tony walked closer and saw that this 'something’ was his phone. Crushed. He looked at the note. "Hey, Tony... Your phone had small accident... Bucky is sorry. - Steve" Tony could felt how anger was growing inside him.

"BARNES! I TOLD YOU SOMETHING ABOUT TOUCHING MY STUFF!"