Part 6

"You can't run."

"What else can I do?"

"Stay."

"I can't stay, Barnes."

Bucky stares at you as you mop at your face, brushing away the tears staining your cheeks. You're muttering, you're intent on leaving, but he doesn't want that. For your sake, and for his own; you're one of the few people he likes talking too, that he enjoys having around.

You can't leave.

"Well, you can't go. They'll find you, you're safest here." He watches as you step to the door that leads to your bedroom, flicking on the light as you search for the tissues you know are around. You hastily grab one, turning your back to him as you wipe at your eyes.

"How am I safe here? If they want, they can come in here and ---."

"Hydra will never get you." Bucky says flatly, your eyes flicking to him at this tone. He steps into the doorway, staring down at you with a dark gaze. "I won't let them. They won't do anything to you, they'll never come near you."

Right, touchy subject, you'd almost forgotten about that. Of everyone, Bucky knew most what could happen if Hydra caught someone. You want to avoid them, you don't want to be forced to hurt anyone. You don't mind tossing a few aliens around, but that's as far as you go with violence.

"Bucky..."

"Promise me you won't go," his voice is terse as he steps up to you, inches away; you can feel the heat from his body as you look up at him, seeing the darkness in his blue eyes. "Promise me."

"I can't ---."

"(Y/N)." His hands rise, and they gently close around your upper arms. His metal hand is almost rough, but he's not hurting you; he just wants you to understand how serious he is. "Don't run. Running is how they catch you."

"They didn't you."

"Steve found me."

Rogers.

"Just like he found me," you mutter, scowling. "I wouldn't be in this mess, Hydra wouldn't even know about me ---."

"Don't blame him, he feels guilty enough about it." Bucky interrupts you, not wanting to hear you down his best friend. "He didn't realize S.H.I.E.L.D. would get involved."

"Well, he should have thought about it," you grumble, not about to be told to let something go without one more gripe.

He actually rolls his eyes at you!

You scowl as he drops his hands, stepping back from you. You're embarrassed you went all teary eyed in front of him, but the world around you is on fire, and you don't even have a glass of water. You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to remind yourself what happens when you lose control.

It's not good.

Exploding lasagna.

Right.

You sigh, leaning your hip against the pale white dresser, staring at Bucky. How does he do it? How does he seem so calm all the time despite what's going on? Your inner self is in turmoil, and you've never been good at it. Usually you run when things get hard, it's always worked for you before.

"I don't know what else to do." You say simply, your shimmery eyes raising to his. "What do I do, Bucky?"

"Stay," he says simply, standing inches away from you, his dark eyes on your face. "Stay here."

"You keep saying stay, Bucky, but I ---."

"You can't go," he murmurs, and to your surprise his real hands rises, brushing damp hair behind your ear. "If you're here, I can keep you safe. I won't let them get to you, I ---."

"If you tell the others, I'll be trapped here."

"It's safer if they know ---."

"Bucky, please don't tell," you plead, your hand rising to press against his chest as you step closer, feeling him tense beneath your touch. "Please don't tell them. I don't want to be a prisoner. I've worked too hard."

"(Y/N) ---."

"Don't," you insist, and Bucky tenses as both of your soft hands press against his firm chest, his eyes wavering on yours. You're so close to him, he can smell your perfume, and he finds he can't look away from you, his resolve wavering.

"Please," you whisper, your fingers sliding up his chest, resting along his broad shoulders. "Bucky."

At the soft sound of his name, he sighs, his shoulders slumping beneath your touch.

"I won't," he murmurs, his hand hesitantly rising to rest on your waist. You give him a relieved smile, and after a moment your arms slip around his neck, your face coming to rest against his chest. Bucky holds his breath as he feels you press into him, your body soft where his is hard, your skin smooth and unblemished where he is covered in scars.

He just lets his arms close loosely around you, as if he's afraid too hold you too tightly in case he hurts you. You're grateful he's not going to say anything, you can only imagine the fit that Stark would pitch, what Coulson would do if he knew your ex boyfriend is Hydra. If anyone knew, you'd never get to leave the tower again!

You tighten your hold on Bucky just thinking about it; you didn't come into the Avengers expecting to like anyone, you'd expected to just eventually find a way out and return to your normal life. With Hydra after you now, though... you're never going to be free.

Is this what it's always going to be now?

You don't want to think about it anymore, you don't want to remember the look in Cody's eyes --- half desperation, half anger. What had Hydra done to him? Offered him? What's going to happen to him now that you don't want to go?

"It's alright," Bucky murmurs softly, his fingers hesitantly brushing through the hair trailing down your back; he likes your hair better loose, free around your shoulders instead of put up all the time. "You're going to be fine, you have nothing to worry about."

"You don't know that. What if they come ---?"

"They won't come here, it's too much of a fight," he disagrees instantly, and his hands come to a stop around your waist. You hesitate before you pull back, tilting your head up to look at him. He gives you a shy smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners, long lashes casting a soft shadow on his cheeks. "We'll tear them apart."

"I hope so," you murmur, leaning into him; it feels nice, actually, to have someone hold you. It's been a long time, and he's warm, and gentle, and you find it incomparably sweet. He might be a soldier, one of the best anyone has ever seen, but really ---.

You kiss him.

You're not sure why you do, or what possesses you, but you raise up on your tip toes and you press your lips firmly against his own. He inhales sharply in surprise, his hands suddenly tight along your waist, but you don't care. You wind your fingers into those long dark locks, pressing into his chest; if he pushes you away, you'll know you read some of the signs wrong, but if he doesn't --- maybe tonight you won't have to sleep alone.

"(Y/N) ---," Bucky gasps, tilting his head back a little, his eyes wide as he looks at you. "What are you doing!?"

"Kissing you, what does it look like?"

"But, but why are you ---?"

"Bucky," you almost sound exasperated. "Shut the fuck up and kiss me back."

He flushes, stubbled cheeks burning red, but he doesn't argue as you meld your lips against his own once more, this time much more forcefully. His lips part after a moment, allowing your tongue to meet his own as you deepen the kiss, tugging a little on his hair until he groans into your mouth, letting you know real quick how far you can take this.

He seems to have no tolerance against you.

You let go of his hair, your hands slipping down to roam his shoulders, pushing at the jacket until it's falling down his arms, hitting the floor behind him. You twitch your fingers, and the bedroom door shuts with a very final sound; you definitely don't want the kitten rushing in and interrupting.

You like the fact he's only wearing a sleeveless shirt, and that he lets you tug at the hem, ripping it off over his head and letting it disappear behind you. You take only a moment to let your eyes run down his chest, at the soft curls drawing down his toned stomach, the hard abs, the V of his hips.

Your eyes flick up to his, seeing his hesitation, how he tenses as you press your palms flat against his chest. You can see some scars stretching across his skin, some white, some still red and angry as they mottle his flesh. Is he embarrassed of them, does he think they bother you? Or is it his arm, where it goes from skin to metal?

Is Bucky Barnes self-conscious?

"I knew you were a hot cake," you murmur, letting your nails rake lightly along his torso as they travel downwards to his tight jeans, and he blinks at you, a little surprised.

"Hot cake?" he's never heard that before. But, you are a baker, so maybe --- oh.

Well.

You press your lips against his collarbone, your nimble fingers already working on his belt, tugging on the buckle until its open. You hastily undo the button to his jeans, drawing the zipper down; you don't want to waste any time, in case he changes his mind on you.

You grab his hands, curling them tightly around yours as you tug, pulling him towards the bed. His eyes flick from the cream-colored blankets back to you, an uneasy look on his face. You wonder how long it's been for him, why he's so nervous --- he has nothing to worry about, you don't bite too much.

You keep your mind focused on him, rather then the situation you're in, and what you're going to do to that extremely pleasing body of his. You twist, pushing him down on the edge of the bed, forcing him to sit. You press forcefully on his shoulders until he's lying back, his knees hanging off the edge as you gently kiss his lips.

"Tell me you're going to stay with me tonight," you whisper, pressing another kiss along his jaw, his hands suddenly clamping around your hips as you crawl over him, slipping your thighs on either side of his legs. "That you're not going to leave me alone."

You kiss a little lower, your tongue flicking out against his skin as you work to his throat, feeling him swallow. He doesn't answer you, but he doesn't say no, either, which is positive. You let your teeth lightly tug on the sensitive skin of his shoulder, your tongue drawing circles as you purposefully lean your hips down against his. You know what you're doing.

You're seducing Bucky Barnes.

Bucky exhales heavily as your hips rub down onto his, the feel of your mouth on his skin tantalizing. He closes his eyes, letting himself enjoy your touch, the first one he's felt in ages. He's briefly thought about you, how you'd feel on top of him... under him... in all sorts of positions. He's wondered how your skin would feel beneath his hands, how you would taste, what you'd sound like as he... The thoughts of it cause his hips to shift, and you groan after a moment, feeling that bulge through his jeans.

His hands creep beneath your shirt, brushing against bare skin cautiously. You're so soft, so smooth, and after a moment you lean up, your eyes flashing to his before you're pulling on your shirt, wrenching it over your head and out of the way. The action causes your ponytail to finally collapse, and your hair comes tumbling down your shoulders, framing your face and cutting deeply into Bucky's restraint.

You press your hands into his chest, watching his his blue eyes dilate at the sight of you, how they become riveted on the swell of your breasts, made even more prominent by the lacy black holding them; how convenient you'd chosen a cute one to wear today.

"You're so beautiful," Bucky murmurs, his hand rising to caress your face. Red tinges your cheeks, and for a moment, you feel a twinge of guilt before you lean down, cupping his cheeks between your hands and kissing him deeply, tongue finding his.

His hands explore your back, making easy work on the hooks of your bra before it's sliding off your shoulders, leaving your torso bare. His fingers are warm, one hand soft, the other rough as they go to your shoulders. You shiver as they trace circles down your spine.

Bucky is so careful with his every touch, so gentle and easy. At any moment he's waiting for you to change your mind, to stop kissing him and decide this is a bad idea. He doesn't want to get carried away, not until he's sure this is even real.

His hands finally come to a stop at your ass, hating the fact your lower half is still clothed as he gets a good feel for the first time, squeezing and causing your body to press tighter into his. You like how he groans into your mouth, feeling how firm your ass is, and now he wants to feel the rest of you so much more.

"Take them off," he breathes against your lips, and your eyes open in surprise at the order. Is Bucky Barnes getting a little impatient already?

"You first," you whisper, rolling your hips down onto his pointedly, causing his fingers to clench. His eyes flare, and after a moment you sit up, drawing your hair down one shoulder as he pushes against you. He reaches forward brazenly, quick fingers unbuttoning your jeans, jerking harshly on the zipper. He urges your hips upward, and you comply, letting him wiggle the tight material down to your thighs, where you then proceed to kick them and your shoes off into the floor.

Bucky's eyes light on your bare chest, the rise of your firm breasts that he's impatient to kiss. He brushes your long hair to the side as you finish undressing, his hand cupping one of the firm mounds. He rolls, forcing you beneath him, his lips descending onto your neck.

You sigh, tiltng your head to give him more access as your fingers tangle in his hair, perfectly content to let the super soldier have his way with you. His teeth nibble along your skin as his hands mold your breasts into their grip. You bite your lip as he toys with one of your nipples, pinching and tugging it between his fingers, his lips sucking hard enough on your neck to leave small, angry red marks against your skin. You can't help but squirm beneath him, feeling that flutter in your stomach, that rush of arousal as the gentle man on top of you starts to become a little rougher.

You can feel yourself starting to grow wet, and you swallow as Bucky's lips draw lower, feathering down your collarbone, eager to feel the rest of you beneath his tongue. His eyes are dark as they rise to yours, no longer that soft blue. He wants you, and the thought makes your pulse race as his lips close over your breast, his metal hand sweeping down to curl your thigh around his hip.

You're not sure what's hotter, the fact he keeps looking up at you like that or the fact his tongue is swirling your nipple, causing goosebumps to rise up on your skin. He leaves a wet trail to your other breast, and you gasp as he gives it a harsh suck, apparently losing any reservations that he had earlier. Your fingers knot in his hair, liking how he's taken the control from you, that he's doing what he wants.

You were afraid you'd have to take the lead.

"Bucky," you groan, letting your head fall back, feeling his teeth graze your sensitive flesh. He seems to like your breasts, the way they fill his palms, how sensitive they are to his touch. You react so much as he squeezes them, licks them, suckles and bites. He leaves red bites against your flesh, and you grow hotter at the fact he's marking you.

Your hips squirm again, shifting up to rub against the erection you feel. You want to get those jeans off of him, get your mouth on that hard cock of his. You want to please him, make him forget about all his troubles, distract him for a little while like he is you. You lick your lips at the image in your mind, and after a moment you're urging him to move, to roll back onto his back.

Bucky lets you straddle him, his hands on your thighs as you gaze down at him, your swollen lips parted. You bite your lower lip, dragging it between your teeth with a mischevious look in your eye.

"Hold still," you murmur, your nails lightly raking down his shoulders. He watches silently as you press a kiss against his chest, working your way lower and lower. Your tongue dips into his navel, your eyes flashing up to his as you pull at what remains of his clothing. He lifts his hips, letting you drag it off of him, his cock springing into freedom.

You smirk, pleased with what he's been hiding in those jeans for so long. You reach forward, taking him in your hand, slowly running your fingertips up his thick shaft.

Bucky doesn't say a word as he props himself onto his elbows, watching as your hand moves up and down his hard length. You draw your nails lightly around his head before leaning forward. He tenses as your lips press against him, as your tongue darts out to curl around his shaft.

Oh.

His white teeth dig into his lower lip as he watches you, his hands slowly curling in the sheets. Your eyes are on his as your tongue starts at his base, leaving a wet trail as you work your way to his head, treating his cock like your personal lollipop. Your hand slips around his shaft as your lips finally close around his head, sucking just enough to finally get a gravelly groan out of the back of his throat, his eyes drooping as his chest moves a little faster.

That's more like it.

He reaches forward thoughtlessly, his fingers tangling in your hair as you sink down, your tongue pillowing him between your lips. You quickly begin moving your mouth, up and down, taking him a little deeper each time until he's humming in pleasure, that hand in your hair painful. You chuckle, already able to taste the salty precum, feeling rather proud that you can make him this way.

You want to make him lose control, become so lost in the pleasure that he stops thinking for a while. You want to please him, make him feel good, almost as a way to say thank you for being so kind to you while no one else had. You don't say any of that, not that you could anyway with a mouthful of his thick cock. His hips finally buck when he feels himself at the back of your throat, your cheeks hollowing.

"Fuck!" You finally hear Bucky gasp, his head falling back. Your cheeks pinken, pleased. You used to be pretty good at deep throating, but you don't want to take it too far just yet. You keep your eyes on his face as you slowly lift your lips from his head, swirling your tongue around the sensitive slit until he shudders. You make sure his length is nice and wet before you shift, crawling over him once more.

The hand in your hair pulls, Bucky's lips forcefully claiming yours with a groan as his metal hand closes around your bare ass, squeezing hard until you whimper into his kiss. His cock is throbbing, his rapid pulse is all he can hear --- you certainly know what you're doing to him.

"I want you," you groan against him, reluctantly puling away enough where you can see his face, his lustfilled eyes finding yours. His fingers release their tight grip in your hair, letting it tumble down your shoulders once more before you feel them on the inside of your thigh, tracing upward to the heat that's only for him tonight.

He nibbles on your jaw as his fingers find your sex, exhaling heavily as he feels how wet you are. He carefully brushes through your wetness, coating his fingers in your desire. You start as his thumb nudges your clit, rolling a wonderful circle around it that sends a fireball of heat through your body immediately. You bite your lip as your hips press down eagerly against his palm, his mouth sucking on your throat once more, teeth digging deeper this time, enough to leave marks for in the morning; why does it turn you on so badly that he wants to mark you?

Your nails dig into his shoulders, moaning hotly as one finger finally slips inside of you, curling against your walls experimentally. You reach down between your bodies, closing your damp fingers around his cock once more, pumping him a few times until he's twitching beneath you.

Bucky is using all his restraint not to take you now, to shove you onto your back and fuck you until you're screaming his name. He wants to make sure that you're ready that he doesn't inadvertently hurt you, that this is still what you want with him. You're so wet though, you're soaking his fingers as you grind down onto his palm, your tight body practically begging for him. He grits his teeth, pressing his face tighter into your throat as you continue to touch him, making it extremely hard for him to focus on your body, your breasts pressing into his chest.

You whine as he forces a second finger inside of you, pumping them into your tight slit until your grip is faltering on his cock, your soft pants increasing in his ear. You're soaked, and Bucky's throbbing, so he hopes you're ready enough for him.

He pulls back enough to kiss you, drawing your mouth to his eagerly as he stops touching you, leaving you with a slight empty feeling before his hands close around your hips. He pulls until you're straddling him perfectly, the head of his cock nudging your slick entrance. You brace your hands against his shoulders, rocking your hips back and forth, causing both of you to moan at the friction.

You don't want to wait any longer!

You shift, poising your hips above him, your eyes finding his just as you sink down, his cock sliding into your tight, wet body. Bucky groans immediately as your heat consumes him, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as you take him to the hilt, your head tilting back, messed hair spilling off your shoulders.

He makes you feel full, and the initial sting of your body stretching to accommodate him is already gone. You bite your lip, your nails digging deeper into his chest as you sit still for a moment, your eyes shut as you feel him inside of you. His fingers flex around you, gently pulling, urging you to move before he loses his mind at the feel of you; so soft beneath his rough fingers, so pliable, so welcoming.

"Bucky," you say breathlessly as he shifts his hips, your own rising slightly. His fingers twitch, biting into your skin as you begin to move, rocking your body back and forth along his cock, bracing your hands flat against his chest.

You're so fucking tight, so hot, Bucky can barely stand it! His lips are parted as he gazes hungrily at you, watching the bounce of your breasts as you ride him, the ripple of pleasure up his torso making his nails rake across your hips.

You're not shy about making noise, about moaning when his hands clasp your breasts, when they squeeze and mold all the right parts of your body until you're a shuddering, wet mess on top of him. He likes the sounds you make, the fuel the fire burning inside of him, the urge to make you cum growing stronger and stronger the longer you fuck. You started this, and he wants to make sure you finish first, that you get all the pleasure he can give you before he finds any sort of relief himself.

There's a coil inside of you, already tightly wound, ready to snap at any moment, but you know you can't let it. You just want Bucky to finish, to enjoy himself, even if you can't reach your own. You grind your hips down onto him, your hands covering his where they're cupping your breasts, holding them there; you're concentrating on the movements of your body, and you know if he touches you anywhere else, your control will snap.

"Bucky," you whimper, your lower half starting to throb, legs burning with the effort of keeping you above him; he never fully leaves you, you can't raise yourself high enough, and for that you're relieved; you doubt you could take the full length of his cock pounding into you over and over, you'd cum in an instant and something explosive would happen!

He squeezes your full breasts, already sensitive from his earlier attentions, and you lean into his grip, feeling the sweat starting to coat your skin. You're trying hard, grinding, rolling, rocking your hips down onto him, digging your nails into his flesh, moaning --- fuck, why can't he cum already!?

Bucky shudders at the experienced roll of your hips, how expertly you're using your body against his. If you keep this up, he's going to cum before you are, and that's not what he wants! He can tell you're close, your walls are clenching and convulsing around him, and there's a glint in your eyes --- why are you holding back on him?

He thrusts his hips upward, catching you off guard and making you gasp, your grip on his hands slipping with wide eyes. He just barely hears something fall in the distance as you lean over him, the sound not registering in his ears as his hungry lips devour yours, hands clasping your ass tightly as he grinds himself into your squeezing channel, making sure your clit is caught between your bodies.

The sound you make against his lips sets his blood to boiling.

You jerk on top of him, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear something fall, your control suddenly thin as spirals of electricity zip from your lower half into your stomach --- this angle is torturing you, he's fucking up into you now, his hands on your ass and forcing your chest against his, letting him have all the control. He's hitting your clit, lifting and lowering your hips, the sound of your bodies meeting filling your ears.

"B-Bucky ---." You want to tell him to stop, that he needs to stop before he pushes you over the edge! You can't cum, you can't lose control --- you'd never intended for him to turn the tables on you! Your nails rake against his stomach as you cry out, your back arching as he suddenly hits a spot inside of you that sends fireworks flashing in front of your eyes, and you don't mean too, but ---.

Bucky gives a hoarse groan as you clamp around him, your body tensing as he finally fucks you in just the right way. You cry out, your face pressing into his chest as you start to cum, his hips still thrusting up to greet yours as your pleasure escalates. He doesn't even notice how the bed moves beneath the two of you, how pictures suddenly clatter off the walls, the mirror cracks --- for a few moments, you can't stop yourself.

You go limp on top of him just as he finds his own release, your hips sinking against his as you feel a hot, intense warmth inside of your throbbing lower half. You're gasping as you lay on top of him, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to catch your breath. His grip laxes on your hips, unaware of the fingerprints he's left there.

Neither of you move for several seconds, too spent. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts, to even remember your name --- you haven't had an orgasm in years, you just, you hadn't allowed yourself, afraid of what might happen. Your eyes slowly ghost open, finding the room hasn't turned itself inside out, there's not car alarms going off in the distance --- nothing is wrong.

Nothing happened.

You sag a little in relief, feeling Bucky's arms slip up your damp body, fingers splaying along your lower back as he holds you against him, his lips suddenly pressing into your hair.

"Are you alright?" he asks after a moment, his voice soft, and you nod the best you can, your fingers limp against his sides.

"Mmmhmm." Is all you can manage, your swollen lips pressing one small kiss against his ribcage before you force yourself to your elbows, strands of your messy hair falling in front of your face. You gaze at him for several seconds before leaning forward, kissing him hesitantly.

What happens now?

You hadn't thought this far ahead, of what he would want to do once you had sex. Did he want to stay? Leave? Pretend it didn't happen? It was amazing, by any standards, at least in your mind, but how did he feel? Are you doing the thing where you're getting nervous and overthinking again?

"Are you..." you hesitate, pushing yourself to your hands so you can see his face, his eyes still dilated, round as they gaze at you. The expression on his face is one of complete satisfaction, and you feel your cheeks heat. "Um, I didn't... you're okay, right?"

You feel silly asking the question, but you'd lost control, and that's unlike you. You want to make sure you didn't hurt him, that your power didn't lash out at him accidentally.

Bucky blinks, a little surprised as you ask him what he'd asked you.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He asks after a moment, reluctantly pushing himself up to his elbows, and you actually grimace as you sit up, perfectly aware that he's still inside of you, that you're in a very vulnerable position on top of him, sweat gleaming on your skin, desire staining your thighs. This isn't perhaps the best time to have this conversation, but...

"I just... I just wanted to make sure," you mumble, growing embarrassed. "I never --- I don't usually lose control, and my power..."

Bucky's eyes light up with understanding; he knows how much restraint you have, how your power is connected to your emotions. You have so much control over yourself it's admirable, he hadn't realized that --- so that's why you kept trying to get him off before you?

"I'm better then ever," he whispers, his hand rising to cup your face, strands of your wild hair clinging to his fingers. "I should be asking you if you're alright. I got... I was rougher then I intended to be." He admits, but you merely give him a wry smile, pressing a soft kiss against his palm.

"You could not have fucked me better, Bucky Barnes." You say, liking the flush that immediately coats his skin at your blunt words. You lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck, sealing his lips with your own for a passionate moment; you wonder if he knows how much this meant to you, that the heat inside of you for him suddenly has nothing to do with sex.

He's so kind to you, so sweet, and it absolutely kills you that you're going to have to leave one day, put him behind you like you have so many others in the past. You always run away in the end, it's what you do best, people tend to be safer when you're not around.

Bucky sighs into your kiss, his fingers caressing through your long hair as it waterfalls down your smooth back, although you start slightly as he touches your hips. He freezes instantly, pulling away from your lips in worry.

"I hurt you," he leans away, his eyes spying the black and blue marks already forming on your body, his chest pinching. The lights are on, but even in darkness he would have been able to spot the number he did on your hips and thighs.

You frown at him.

"Those are nothing, Bucky." You say quickly. "You should see what I did to your neck. If anyone asks, say I punched you there."

He snorts, caught off guard by the comment, his hand rising self-consciously. You smile at him, one that reaches your eyes and makes them sparkle. You lean forward to give him one more soft kiss, your hands curling around his shoulders. You're going to have to get off of him, and you dread it, you know you're going to be incredibly sore, and you don't want him to feel bad.

You wouldn't change a moment of what just happened between the two of you.

Even when you leave... you'll hold the memory close.