Sylvie wriggles in his grip and Bucky immediately sets her down, knowing that he’s already pushed it a little by snatching her off of the street. The last thing he wants to do is push her boundaries, but he thinks that he’s gotten pretty good at reading her. That in itself is a point of pride.

Her feet touch the ground and he leans in to kiss her, but before he can make contact, she spins him around and presses him against the brick. She drags his sweater up and Bucky’s mind goes a little hazy with arousal, hips jerking and breath hitching as she licks at his nipple. The air is cold and dry against his skin, at odds with the warm swipe of her tongue, and Bucky bites his lip.

“Yeah, that definitely did it,” he says in a low rasp, because his cock is twitching to life in his jeans. It seems to do that whenever he’s in close proximity to her or Loki, like he’s thirteen year old hit with a stiff breeze. It’s kind of ridiculous.

His good hand goes to the back of her head, not pushing or guiding but simply holding in, feeling the silky strands of her hair slip through his fingers.

“I never knew those were so sensitive,” he admits with a breathless chuckle.