Thursday, December 25, 2014

A Bucky Barnes Lemon -- Sleepless People

Character: Bucky Barnes

Fandom: The Avengers / Captain America

OC: Aeriell, curly red hair and hazel eyes, impulsive, optimistic

Inspiration: Chinese Takeout.  Those fortunes are actually real, I looked them up cause I couldn’t think of anything.  They fit so perfectly that I had to use them ;3  Oh and Merry Christmas!!

Stark Tower is always busy.  There are always people bustling about and agents going here and there.  Tony Stark is always somewhere in the vicinity, ready to drop down to take you unawares just to prove that he can.  It’s always busy.  That’s why, tonight, Aeriell is so very surprised to find that it isn’t.
Perhaps surprised is not the right word.  She is surprised, surely, because it isn’t often that the Tower is empty.  But she is also wary.  Her agent background has given her little opportunity to relax and as a result, she is attentive and perched at the edge of her seat.  And, of course, she is also feeling hesitant because of one other reason: Bucky Barnes is sitting across from her and being so close to him makes it difficult for her to breathe.
They’re eating enough take-out for a group of six, at least, because of course Aeriell had thought that there would be six.  Bucky doesn’t say anything, as per usual, though he has taken his mask off so as to eat.  She finds that he is surprisingly good at using chopsticks.  The thought escalates and she wonders what else those fingers of his are good at.  And of course she makes herself blush from the shame of thinking about something like that when she’s only a few feet away from the man in question.  She often does this to herself.
“Wonder when they’ll be back,” she muses, trying to get her thoughts as far away from Bucky’s unexplored sexual talents as possible.  He raises his eyes to hers and for a moment she finds herself utterly lost to their darkness, the way they seem to pluck her right out of her seat and drag her closer.  It is thrilling, looking into those eyes of his, especially when the rest of his face smoothes their color out and turns them into a dominant winter sky, all gray and turbulent but somehow still blue.
He grunts.  Bucky isn’t a man of many words.  He’s quiet.  That’s how he was trained to be, brainwashed to be, and that’s how he is now.  Aeriell has always wondered at that, at the type of man he was before the tragedy struck.  She has always wanted to ask him about his life but found she never could.  For some reason, as of late, it seems like Bucky has been avoiding her where he wouldn’t before.  She is just surprised that he hasn’t left now, even though he looks highly uncomfortable.
She feels her heart clench at the thought.  If he truly doesn’t want to be around her then it’s not like he has to force himself.  Stark Tower is very safe and she is a trained agent who can protect herself and has many times in the past before she’d met him.  So she decides to just spare them both the continued awkwardness and sighs, glancing down at her uneaten plate of food. 
The dreary sound has Bucky looking over at her, though she doesn’t notice the way his eyes are crinkling at the edges with displaced, overflowing emotion.  She also doesn’t know that this sort of thing has been happening quite a lot to him lately, this overabundance of affection.  And whenever she’s in the same room it all raises up within Bucky and threatens to pour through all his carefully built barriers like a deluge of rainwater.
“You know,” she begins slowly, not allowing herself to look up and meet his gaze.  She feels it on her, knows he’s watching her, waiting for her.  But looking at him would ruin her.  Her words would fail.  They always do when he’s near, and she always turns into a stumbling mess.  She is not proud of that mess – she’s an important, dignified agent – but she can’t help herself.
She twirls some Lo Mein around her chopsticks idly, and murmurs, “You can leave.  If you want.  You look tired.  I think I might head back to my apartment anyway, so you don’t have to worry about – “
“You’re a woman,” he blurts out without thought, and Aeriell frowns in confusion and finally looks up at him, because she’s got absolutely no idea where he’s going with that.  She’s grateful that he seems to have realized such a fact, at least.  Even so, she raises her eyebrows with only the smallest shred of amusement (the smallest, really), and asks, “What?”
It’s obviously not what he’d meant to say.  She has never seen him blush before but Christ it’s adorable.  She watches that slight redness spread over his cheeks with such fascination that Bucky no doubts is yearning for his mask right about now.  He clears his throat and grips his chopsticks a little too hard.  “I can’t leave a woman all alone like that.  I should at the very least walk you home.”  His words are hesitant, almost reluctant, and a little bit confused as well, as if he doesn’t know why he’s saying what he’s saying. 
It leaves Aeriell baffled for a number of reasons.  One, because she hadn’t known he cared that much about her wellbeing.  Two, because it sounds so old fashioned, but then again he is old fashioned and she often forgets about that little fact.  And it’s not as if he’s undermining her or anything (despite the way her feminist sides rears its head in protest) but she’s just not used to a man being so concerned about her walking home by herself. 
She’s been doing just that for years and there hasn’t been a problem.  New York City at night is pretty much the same as it is in the daytime.  The lights never darken and there are always sleepless people.  It is an enormous mass of breathing, living space that never tires and never stops, and she’s never had any trouble before.  But hearing him worry about her makes her warm in places she hadn’t even known about, and despite the fact that she’d like to tell him she can hold her own thank you very much, she can’t bring herself to.
“Oh,” she says, then bites her bottom lip because fuck it all, is that the only thing she can say?  But being around him makes her feel like a young girl.  Perhaps it’s because technically she is a young girl in comparison, if you think about it.  She doesn’t particularly like to think about it though and just clears her throat, reaches for the take-out containers, and starts closing them up.  After a brief moment, he helps.  They work in a strange but lovely, companionable silence for a moment, and then she stands up and nods, “I live close by.  A five minute walk.  You don’t have to come, it’s a safe neighborhood – “
“Let’s go,” he cuts in, reaching for his coat.  She flounders momentarily because she’s really not good at this – crushing on someone that is – especially when that someone is so emotionless that she can’t ever understand him.  Before she knows what’s happening, Bucky is suddenly beside her, holding up her jacket and looking down at her with those dark and fathomless eyes. 
She swallows, glances at him, and turns around to let him help her into her coat.  It’s an odd feeling, standing so close to him, but also thrilling and inspiring.  His fingers linger very briefly by her neck, brushing just slightly against her warm skin.  His calloused fingertips force shivers down her spine.  She would like nothing better than to turn in his arms and kiss over those fingers, drag her tongue over them and feel just how rough they are.  She doesn’t and he pulls away.
Minutes later they’re stepping onto the windy streets of New York City.  Aeriell rarely bothers with the subway since her apartment is only a few blocks away, so they simply begin to walk down the sidewalk.  They both silently admire the Christmas charm that has taken a hold of the city.  The lights and the store windows and the Santas who stand on every corner with their charity bells and baskets.  She stuffs her fingers into her pockets because it’s cold, and surprises herself when her fingers brush over the fortune cookies she vaguely remembers putting there own her way back to Stark Tower.
She draws one out and sends Bucky a smile.  He doesn’t smile back of course, but his eyes do squint with confusion.  The confusion passes away when she hands him the fortune cookie, and they pause briefly at an intersection while the cars and taxis hurry by.
“Here, open yours up,” Aeriell tells him, focusing on her fortune cookie.  He doesn’t, at first.  Instead he watches her open hers.  He watches the way the lights of New York saunter over her face and brighten it.  He watches the way her eyes light up with eagerness as she unravels the little scroll of paper.  He watches the way she hungrily reads it, devouring the words with that playful gaze of hers.  Then she looks up at him and her eyes careen breathlessly into his, and Bucky can suddenly only stand there on the side of the street and stare.  What would she do is he were to push her up against the wall?  Devour her just as hungrily as she’d devoured those words.
“Go on,” she tells him teasingly, and nods to the fortune cookie he’d forgotten all about.  He looks at it now and swallows back all those desires, all those emotions that he must keep hidden, because surely a woman like her couldn’t be interested in a brainwashed emotion-impaired psychopath like him.  He unwraps it, unfolds the paper, and reads the words.  The sentence that greets him hits him shockingly close to home. 
Traffic stops and before either of them can inquire about the other’s fortunes, Aeriell is slipping her hand around his elbow and dragging him forward before they miss their chance.  He stumbles behind her, surprised because she never touches him.  And even though this touch is nowhere near intimate, it still makes him breathless because it’s her.  She’s gripping him.  It is her warmth that soaks through his coat.  And that somehow makes it more intimate than anything else in the entire world.
They cross the street and he thinks she’ll let go, but she doesn’t.  He’s glad she doesn’t, though he’s also confused.  And pleased.  And oddly intoxicated.  Her warmth presses just slightly against his side and he can smell the scent of her shampoo.  And when she goes to wrap her arm a little more firmly around his, Bucky thinks that perhaps he’s stumbled into some sort of saturated heaven which of course he doesn’t deserve but can bring himself to care.
“What was your fortune?” she asks when they pause a few seconds later, because apparently they’ve reached her apartment building.  She stops to fish around in her purse and he nearly protests when she has to draw her arm back.  Thankfully he doesn’t, but he can’t deny that he feels rather thinly stretched, like all his emotions are mere moments away from tumbling out of control.  He sets his jaw and watches her, then clears his throat and rather reluctantly holds up the fortune and reads, “It is now, and in this world, that we must live.”
Aeriell is in the middle of opening the door when his words stop her.  She feels herself stiffen.  When she goes to glance at Bucky, he’s watching her carefully with those endlessly blue eyes of his and it almost feels as if he’s waiting for something.  She knows what she’d like to give him, but she isn’t a very bold person when it comes to romance and can’t bring herself to close the distance between them.
Instead she chuckles, her lips pulling up as she turns back to the door and steps inside.  “That’s strange.  Usually these fortune cookies are really vague.  Yours seems to fit perfectly though.”  She doesn’t say anything about hers.  She won’t unless he asks her to.  Truthfully, she’s feeling rather strange about these fortune cookies and the way their words seem to match them both so flawlessly.  It makes her just the tiniest bit uncomfortable.
She half expects him to turn and leave her in the doorway, having fulfilled whatever duty he apparently had.  But to Aeriell’s surprise, Bucky steps in after her and gestures to the stairs, obviously intent to walk her right to her door.  Is it a traditional thing or just him?  She doesn’t dare question it.  Saying goodbye is something she dreads, especially after the enjoyable walk they’d had.  It’s not selfish to want him to stay.
Her apartment is on the third floor.  They walk up the flights up stairs in utter silence.  Save the sound of their own feet and the wind howling outside the rickety windows, it is absolutely quiet.  She thinks that’s that until the moment that they actually reach her door, but as she’s twisting her key into the lock, that’s when Bucky finally says, “You never told me your fortune.”
She stops, swallows, and turns to glance at him.  Something in his eyes makes her feel out of breath.  She can’t place the emotion so she decides to ignore it for now.  Instead she just gives him a strained smile and pulls her fortune out, pauses hesitantly, and then hands it over.  Reading it out loud seems too intimate, even though in truth there is nothing intimate about the words themselves.  The meaning behind them though, has shaken her down.
He takes it with those slightly confused eyes, studies her face for a moment, then peers down to take in the words: “If winter comes, can spring be far behind?”  As she’d expected, they make him stop and stare.  The meaning and the emotions behind each letter twists over his face.  The words have a startling potential to shake him down, too, especially when he looks up at her.  He suddenly finds that kissing her seems to be the only thing he can think about.
It’s almost like fate has intervened and is giving them the go ahead.  But the funny thing about fate is that even if the course of it is natural and desired, people still fight it.  The crannies of it, the slivers of hope, the unrest, the altitudes of right and wrong, they all provide many things.  For those people who are in constant doubt, these things aren’t necessarily welcome.  And when it comes to Bucky Barnes, being in doubt is just another layer of confusing emotions thinly scraped over too long a distance, which seems to corrode right through time itself.
Bucky is winter.  He is the coldness of a first snowfall; the hollowness of the last.  He is an endless, starless vacuum of night.  Aeriell is springtime, hope, innocence, and all manner of things that he is not.  But somehow it makes perfect sense.  They make perfect sense.
He steps forward.  Slowly, gratifyingly, he watches her press herself against the door.  He’s not sure if the action is to move away from his advance or not but his worries are soon dispersed.  In a small voice that threatens to make Bucky absolutely crazy, Aeriell murmurs, “Are you going to kiss me?”  Is he?  Suddenly he’s not sure anymore, and yet at the same time he’s never wanted anything so badly.
“…Yes,” he tells her.  His voice is gravel and it’s coated with an almost husky passion.  It doesn’t sound all that different from his normal voice, actually, minus perhaps that passion, but it still makes Aeriell shiver brilliantly against the door.  The sight of her body convulsing into those little shivers make his clench his teeth and step forward again.  He has to force himself not to go too fast, not to just push her up against that door with all his strength and kiss her with that hard passion.  Instead he settles against her gingerly, pressing his chest to her and raises his hands up to cup her face.
His eyes lock with hers and his thumbs burn over her cheekbones.  She can’t breathe, can’t even remember what oxygen is or why she needs it.  She can’t do anything but hang against the door and him and wait, wait, wait like she’s been tossed into purgatory itself.  He’s taking far too long and yet she can’t bring herself to make him hurry up.  And when his mouth finally (finally!) slides over hers with that too-gentle touch, Aeriell moans and curls her arms around his body, immediately pressing herself against him as her body arches up.
God, he’s never known a kiss to be so intimate.  But as he kisses her, it’s as if she’s craning her entire body to his, as if he has moved something deep within her psyche that will forever change her.  It is delicious and sinful and luxuriously hot, having her moan like that just from his lips, with all that breathless, sensual longing.  And what had started out as a (not so) simple kiss has suddenly transformed into something much, much greater.  Bucky has a strong feeling that he won’t be able to pull himself away from her anytime soon, and indeed Aeriell doesn’t seem to want him to go anywhere anyhow.
Her hands have fisted themselves into the back of his long sleeved shirt, stretching the fabric just slightly over his chest.  The movement of her lips has added all sorts of new emotions to the kiss and it feels as if he is burning as a result.  When Aeriell goes to curl one leg around his waist, pulling his lower half rather adamantly and swiftly against hers, Bucky has to swallow back a stifling wave of dense, callous desire. 
His breathing shortens but he doesn’t pull away from her lips.  He does open his eyes to look at her though, and the utterly wicked expression on her face has his cock twitching as blood rushes down his body.  He doesn’t remember much of his human life.  That is to say he has remembered the important details of it, the big picture, but the little memories are still only slowly coming back. 
What Bucky does remember, perhaps because it has been ingrained into his being since birth, is his respect toward women.  Which means of course that he is all too aware of the situation they are in and of the fact that he is getting shamefully hard because of it.  It also means that taking her tonight, regardless of the many months spent pining over her, would be going against a very specific set of moral codes.
When Aeriell drags his hips closer and shifts her core against the slight bulge in his jeans, Bucky finally breaks the kiss and breaks a great many other things, too.  His hands slip from her waist to her shoulders and he pushes her back against the door.  He extricates himself from her hips with a sharp inhalation and rushes to regain his lost breath. 
Aeriell just stares at him hard, her eyes filled with confusion and something else, something that almost looks like rejection – and he hurries to explain, “We haven’t even – I mean, I just kissed you, and – for the first time, and I won’t force you into – “  Thank God she interrupts, because he’s never been so tongue-tied or embarrassed in all his life.  (Or at least the parts he remembers.)
“Bucky,” she drawls, and the sound of his name, all low and filled with such desire, has him swallowing and closing his eyes briefly.  All this emotion seems so foreign to him after being brainwashed for so long and he has no idea what to do with it all.  But she seems to know, at least, and he’s happy that at least one of them does.  “I want you.” 
His eyes open and he stares at her in surprise.  In his time women were much less outspoken.  But there is something in that candid honesty that makes him feel as if the very essence of himself has disintegrated into tiny little particles.  He likes that feeling very much, likes that it is almost like he is detached, that his passion is another entity in itself.
She runs her hands up his chest, his shoulders, down the length of both his arms, and finally takes his hands from her body and clenches her fingers around his.  Their clasped hands hang between them but it doesn’t feel like a barrier.  It just feels warm, intimate in that simple desire, and he likes that too.
“I don’t usually do this either,” she tells him, referring to their rather brash coupling.  Then she gives him a little smile and steps forward, brushing her thumbs over his hands and then shifting her fingers to his sides to grasp the fabric of his shirt.  “But it feels like I’ve wanted this for so long and…and it doesn’t seem all that sudden – “  She’s rambling again, and she doesn’t really know how to stop herself, and she would have continued to speak if Bucky hadn’t decided that he really wants to kiss her again.
He does, and the swiftness of his mouth as it descends on hers is startling and beautiful and filled with such yearning that Aeriell immediately kisses him back with mirrored emotions.  “Mmm…” she moans, and it starts back up again.  Her body shifts into his and he settles against her and their hands fly over each other.  And while she really loves being pressed so diligently against the door like this, Aeriell thinks that perhaps it’s time to make use of her very empty apartment.
“Will you come inside?” she gasps as their mouths split apart and Bucky’s lips patter down her neck.  She never wants him to stop, and he never wants to either, so instead of pulling away Bucky just mumbles, “Mm,” against her neck.  She takes his answer as a ‘yes’, because it would be impossible not to when his mouth is so provocatively burning her.
She starts moving around to finish unlocking her door, but she doesn’t get to.  Bucky slips his thigh between her legs and presses her firmly to the wood.  She can feel his erection bulging against her and she clings to him tightly with a fierce moan.  Bucky’s hands curl around her waist, but they don’t settle on her body.  Instead he reaches behind her to the doorknob and blindly fiddles with the key.  Moments later they are stumbling inside and Aeriell is breaking into tiny peals of laughter because she’s never known him to be so impatient. 
He shuts the door and then almost immediately finds himself being pushed against it, and for a brief moment he thinks that this is all wrong, that he should be the one caging her in and not the other way around.  But when she kisses him again and runs her hands down his chest and over his thighs and – God, he’s never known anything to be so right in his entire life.
His hands slip around her rear and he drags her forward, then suddenly heaves her up into the air.  Her legs curl around his waist and their kiss slows, partly because she’s a little bit surprised by his move, but mostly because the atmosphere seems to have changed just a tiny bit.  The layers of romance, the dips and contours and beginnings and ends of it all filter away and then it’s just him and her, lovers-to-be hanging in the eaves of a very ardent affair.
He does not know the layout of her apartment, but he knows that her bedroom must be somewhere down the hall and so he stumbles in that direction.  He’s strong, his body corded with muscles from his training, and he stumbles only because he’s so overcome by the passion that it’s very hard for him to concentrate on anything else.  But he has to for now, and against her lips he asks one simple question: “Where?”
She knows what he’s speaking of immediately, because she is thinking about the same exact thing.  She drags her mouth from his to briefly murmur, “Second door,” and prays that he doesn’t mistake her words for the second door on the right because that’s the bathroom – but he doesn’t, and moments later Bucky is kicking her bedroom door open and depositing her right onto the mattress.
He leaves her there and stands at the edge of it, looking down at her and wondering suddenly what to do next.  He’s not a virgin (he doesn’t think) but he might as well be because he hasn’t done this sort of thing for decades.  Should he turn the light on or leave it off?  Did she have a condom handy?  Because he certainly is not the type to carry them around on his person like Tony Stark says he does –
Aeriell takes his hesitance into stride.  She shifts to the edge of the mattress and rises up on her knees, leaning over to flick the bedside lamp on.  The room immediately washes with dim light that basks over the both of them.  She shifts closer and runs her hands over his chest, then slowly slips her hands under the hem of his shirt and drags it up.  He lets her pull it off, lets her lean in and kiss his body, and then drags his fingers into her hair and tips her head back.  His mouth descends on hers just as her fingers slip to the hem of his jeans.
They’re stripped away soon after and he’s left in his boxer briefs, which cling low to his hips and do very little to hide his very hard erection from sight.  But he finds that he doesn’t care all that much, because that’s when Aeriell shifts her lips from his and moves them to that bulge, kissing it over the cloth and fingering him just lightly.
He watches her with increasing impatience, but can’t deny that it feels absolutely amazing to have her touch him like that.  The heat of her mouth makes him utterly crazy.  He’d very much like to return the favor but he doubts he’ll have the restraint that it requires tonight.  He also doubts that he’ll last very long.  It’s been a while since he’s partaken in sex and already he feels extremely restless and eager.
“There’s a condom in that drawer,” Aeriell tells him a moment later, drawing back to glance up at him.  Her eyes are big and blown with passion.  He stares at them for a long moment before nodding and reaching toward the bedside table.  There is indeed a condom waiting inside, but suddenly it becomes less important because suddenly Aeriell is smoothing her hands over her stomach and starting to lift her shirt.
He slides forward and catches her wrists with his hands.  “Wait!” he says quickly, pauses when he notices her raised eyebrow, and gives her a tiny little smirk that seems to surprise her.  Bucky leans forward, presses one knee on the mattress, and dips his hands around the curve of her waist.  “I want to undress you,” he murmurs.  The words inspire such sensuality that she can only bite her lip and nod.
“Hurry up then,” she tells him, sliding her hands up his arms to rest on his broad shoulders.  His eyes flash cheekily up at her and he chuckles, a deep, throaty sound that goes right to her core and makes her pound.  He takes his time pulling her shirt off, unbuttoning her jeans, sliding his hands into the fabric of them and wriggling them off.  When she’s only wearing her bra and panties, Bucky runs his hands over her sides and huskily whispers, “Turn around.”
Aeriell takes one look at those eyes of his and obeys.  She’s not usually the type to follow blindly but tonight she falls into that role flawlessly.  When her back is facing him, she hearing a rustle of fabric and knows that he’s removing his underwear.  Then the mattress dips and she feels him kneel around her, his thighs just barely touching her. 
Something about the situation, about not being able to see him but knowing that he can see her, makes Aeriell ridiculously aroused.  She feels his hands slide up her back and shivers from the coldness of his metal fingers.  His touch settles on the hooks of her bra as he undoes them.  When he shifts the bra down her arms, he presses a kiss to her bare shoulder and then moves his hands under her arms to touch her breasts.
She shivers and leans back, sinking against his body with a whimpered moan that, if possible, makes him even harder.  He drags her closer so that she can feel his erection, bare and raw and burning.  His lips kiss her temple tenderly and she looks up at him.  His eyes are everywhere, dipping over her body, studying her breasts as his hands knead over them, and it makes her very delirious.
“Touch me,” she begs him, because she’s aching something terrible and needs to feel those fingers of him go to work and spin her out of control.  He pauses only briefly before obeying, slipping down her stomach and lightly dipping over her panties.  After a moment his fingers curl around the damp fabric to touch her more intimately, and when he sinks them gently into her core Aeriell feels herself shudder uncontrollably.  It’s absolutely the single most erotic thing Bucky has ever experienced, at least so far.
He turns his lips to hers and kisses her again, this time deeper, splaying his tongue over hers and tasting her as his fingers stroke her harder.  He adds another; she clenches her fingers around his arms.  He thumbs over her clit almost roughly; she breathlessly murmurs his name.  He’s so hard he can barely breathe, and though he’d like nothing more than to keep up this deliciously sensual act, other desires make him shift and pull his fingers away.  She whimpers at the loss but she won’t be whimpering soon, because he plans to fill her up so entirely that she’ll never be the same again.
He wipes his fingers on the sheets and reaches for the condom.  A moment later he’s unwrapping it and Aeriell is moving to face him.  Before he can stop her she’s shifting out of her panties and then taking the condom from his slightly shaking fingers.  Then she’s skillfully slipping it on over his cock and he’s briefly closing his eyes because whenever she touches him it feels like he’s about to shatter.
Aeriell moves back and smiles at him.  “Come here,” she says, and Bucky can’t say no.  He follows her, nestles himself between her legs, and leans down to kiss her.  Against the kiss he whispers, “I won’t last very long tonight.”  He’s not sure if it’s something he should bother saying but he figures he should at least warn her.  Aeriell hums and wraps her fingers around his cock, guiding it to her core.  As he pushes his length into her, she mumbles, “Me neither.”  And it’s true; she can’t remember a time where she’d been as aroused as she is now.
He sinks into her with a sigh and a throaty moan, holds his arms above her head, and immediately starts off at a pace that makes her feel miles from earth.  It’s phenomenal and slightly faster than she’d anticipated but so so good that she can’t complain.  She wraps her legs around his waist and pulls him closer, lifting her hips with every thrust of his and melting beneath him with every hungry scrape of his cock against her inner walls.
“Oh God…” she whispers, careening forward.  Her back arches and Bucky’s hands caress a breast, in that rough-gentle way she’s come to expect from him.  He softly pinches her nipple and watches her eyes explode with passion.  “Bucky…!”  Her nails drag over his bare back, twisting shivers in their wake.  He can’t stop, can’t stop, he’s going to come, and then –
Suddenly Aeriell is hooking a leg around his waist and pushing him over, and he’s landing against pillows and mussed up sheets, and she’s tilting her body over his and lowering it against him.  Her breasts drag over the slight pattering of hair on his chest.  Her hands cage around his head and tangle into his hair.  Her hips shatter over his, dragging his cock deeper and deeper inside her with every forceful, chaotic thrust. 
And this, this is by far more erotic than anything else, and far surpasses all the other utterly sexy situations they’d found themselves in that night.  Because having a woman top him with such vehement dominance makes Bucky realize that it’s so much better than all the other love affairs he’d ever had, where he’d been the one in control and it was just the same, but for a different partner.
“Aeriell,” he gasps.  His hands curve over her rear and he drags her down, rocking his hips up with almost violent strength.  But it feels delicious, knowing that he is so desperate for her, knowing that he wants her so very badly.  And it makes them both splinter off into their finishes with barely any preamble.  But that’s okay because love has no preamble.  It hits suddenly and impulsively.  It lingers like a long winter getting ready for spring.
“Oh!” Aeriell cries, and her body twists up so beautifully that Bucky can only stare and follow after.  He watches her arch and toss her head back, watches her thrust her breasts forward, watches her hips nimble over his with such speed that he thinks he’s going to die.  But he doesn’t die, he just lives, lives and breathes and comes and pants, and when it’s all over he lies there underneath her and chuckles.  Because when he thinks about it, this was just what he needed to rid himself of all those pent up emotions.  He feels like a new person.
Aeriell hears his chuckle and looks down at her.  She brushes her fingers over his forehead and presses a kiss against his skin.  Bucky sighs in absolute satisfaction and wraps his arms around her waist.  When he sees the question in her eyes, he mutters, “That’s just what I needed.”  But even as he says it he realizes that sex itself wasn’t what he needed: she was.  It wouldn’t have been the same if it hadn’t been with her.
He rolls them over and tucks her into his side.  “You.  I needed you.”  The confession is soft, and hard, and all things in between, but Aeriell feels herself grow warm from his words.  She nestles closer then leans up to capture his mouth with hers.  Into the strangely deep, emotional kiss, she playfully laughs, “Oh?  Is that all then?  Now that you’ve had me you don’t need me anymore?”  The question is partly joking, partly serious.  Bucky sees right through it.
He rolls her all the way over and settles against her once more, kissing her roughly with the intention of showing her how much he really does need her.  Still, to make sure she wholly understands, he chuckles, “You know that’s not true.” 
His lips sink to other parts of her body, intent this time to discover more of her, to continue on at a slower, more temperate pace perfect for exploration.  She proceeds to melt all over again. 



  1. Omg!! I was geeking the whole time while reading this. It was absolutely fantastic! Aeriell was just how I imagined she would be and the fortunes were perfect!! This was fantastic!!! Thank you so so much for writing this for me!

  2. I have a request either boxer x ballerina or neville longbottom lemon or lash from sky high.

  3. I think Neville would be an adorable lemon, maybe one for Draco too? Since is such a stubborn obnoxious bugger ;)

  4. A sort of sequel to this as you implied (although it was intended to be a single) with the softer pace would be very interesting and appreciated. (I'm dying of a Bucky overload and yet want more.)

  5. I really loved how you wrote this! I was wondering... would you be willing to do a story for Bucky (Pre-war) and my OC Margo? I would be very happy if you didn't mind and I already sorta have an idea...