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bucky

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"Why are we here?"

Sylvie doesn't generally go shopping. Not for her clothing. It's easy enough to just cast a spell and change her clothes when she wants to, though she does have some good basics in her clothes. Expensive denim, a good pair of boots, shirts that are both functional and beautiful, as well as some t-shirts, and even one dress she'd purchased out of sheer fury when it was too warm for her to consider trousers. That's enough for her.

The boutique store they're in makes her uncomfortable. Somehow they've ended up here and she doesn't know why or how. Did he drug her to get her in here? Did he distract her somehow? It's his fault, she knows it is, because she wouldn't have come in here on her own.

The clothes are nice enough, she supposes, but that still doesn't tell her why.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" she almost demands of Bucky. Part of what she likes about him so much is that he's as functional and practical as she is. Somehow she can't imagine him in the baby blue sweater that hangs on the rack next to her, no matter how soft it looks.

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Bucky had been expecting Sylvie to push back against him, to bite and scratch, but it doesn't happen. Instead she relaxes against him, and it takes Bucky a moment to realize what she's doing. Not submitting herself to him, no, but something like it. Something better. She's trusting him, handing over the reins, and that sends a rush of sensation through his body, heart throbbing in time with his cock.

He breaks the kiss with a breathless grunt and sinks gracefully to his knees, kissing her breasts, her stomach, then her hip on his way down. His fingers hook into her pants and underwear and he yanks them down almost roughly, shoving them down to her knees and then eagerly burying his face between her legs, practically growling with need as he presses his tongue into her, then up over her clit before he closes his mouth over it and sucks hard.

"I'll take care of you," he promises when he pulls back to take a breath, looking up at her for a moment before diving in again, holding her hips back against the door as he laps at her cunt, pulling out all his tricks just like she had done in the alleyway.

He wants her to come fast and hard, yes, but that's just the beginning. He wants to make her come again and again, as many times as she can stand and then maybe one more time after that, too.

That he understands what she's doing shouldn't surprise her. It doesn't. Bucky knows what's being offered and he also knows it doesn't necessarily mean she's looking for gentle.

At times, yes, that's what she wants. It's a rare thing she allows herself, something she doesn't often acknowledge, but not now. Now she wants Bucky to make her come, she wants his cock inside of her, and she wants to feel good. It's an incredible thing, to have both that and trust, something she never imagined.

"Oh, you better," she answers with a laugh, winding her fingers in his hair and giving a tug. "After my performance in a bloody alley."

“It was a masterful performance,” Bucky says as he presses two metal fingers into Sylvie’s cunt, still cold from being outside, and drags his tongue over her clit again and again. He fingers her hard, licks at her eagerly, and it occurs to him that he doesn’t even know if Loki is in the house.

What would he do if he found them like this? Would he join in, or would he watch? Just the thought makes Bucky even more turned on, and he presses his fingertips hard against that spongey little spot inside of Sylvie that makes her twitch, rubbing insistently as he sucks at her clit, nose pressed to her pelvic bone.

She’s close, and Bucky carefully eases a third finger inside of her just to feel the stretch, glancing up at her to see her reaction even as her cunt clutches greedily at his fingers, holding them inside of her body. He doesn’t want to pull away enough to speak, so he lets out a demanding growl of a sound instead, wanting to feel her come.

Despite her teasing, Bucky never disappoints, not with technique or enthusiasm, both which matter. Her fingers twist in his hair, holding on as his tongue sweeps over her clit, as his fingers go deeper inside of her, and she gasps for air, holding tight. Standing isn't the easiest position for this, but she leans back and lets the door support her, just as Bucky presses a third finger inside of her.

"Fuck," she breathes at the same time as he growls. That sound against her clit is what tips her over the edge, the vibrations enough to break the edge of her orgasm and it washes over her as her muscles pulse and her head drops back against the door.

Right before Sylvie comes, Bucky shifts one of her legs over his shoulder to help support her, lapping at her clit as she goes impossibly tight around his fingers. He works her through it, using his fingers and his mouth and only pulling back once she stops twitching against him.

His fingers slide out of her and he climbs to his feet, wiping his face on the inside of his forearm before pulling his sweater over his head, tossing it aside before he grabs Sylvie's shirt and tugs it open, sending buttons flying across the foyer.

"Shit. You can fix that, right?" Bucky asks against her mouth, laughing as he pulls the shirt back over her shoulders, leaving her in just her bra. He wraps an arm around her and lifts her easily, spinning them around and heading for the stairs. He makes it a third of the way before giving up and laying her back on the stairs, dropping to his knees and leaning over her as he reaches down to hurriedly undo his belt.

"Fuck, I need you," he pants out, feeling slightly crazed as he pushes his jeans and underwear down just enough to pull his cock out, positioning himself between her legs and sinking into her with one quick, smooth thrust. He bottoms out and groans against her jaw, grabbing at her ass to pull her against his hips as he starts to fuck her with quick, shallow thrusts, foreheads tipped together as he stares at her. "Sylvie."

"I don't care," Sylvie answers about the shirt. She can replace it if she cared that much and she doesn't. All she's thinking about in the moment is Bucky, how he feels, the touch of his hands, the fact that they haven't even made it all the way up the stairs.

The sweater he's just purchased has been discarded somewhere, which makes it all the funnier. The necklace he bought her, though, hangs between her breasts, the dagger against her skin. It's strange how romantic that feels even as Bucky is sinking into her, his cock stretching her delightfully as a shiver goes through her.

The edge of a step is digging into her back in a way she likes, that slight bite of pain as she wraps her legs around Bucky and presses her heels into his ass to press him closer.

She’s so warm around his cock, warm and wet and tight, and Bucky lets out a shuddering breath as he bottoms out and rests there for a moment, just to revel in the sensation of being inside of her. His eyes dip to the necklace, a gleaming silver dagger resting against glistening, pale skin. It’s a cheap trinket, nothing of high quality, but it means the world for Bucky to see it there.

Because no matter how euphoric being inside of her body is, it’s nothing compared to how good it feels to know that she’s let him into her heart. She took down the walls enough for him to crawl inside, made space for him there, and he knows just how hard that was for her, and how special that makes him. Bucky knows, because he’s done exactly the same for her.

He reaches between them and slides his hands up her chest, between her breasts, and then takes the pendant between his thumb and forefinger. He tugs at it hard enough for her to feel the pressure of it against the back of her neck, but not enough to break the chain. He uses that hold to drag her into another deep, sensual kiss, and then lets go of the chain to take her hand instead, one and then the other, lifting them over her head and holding both of her slender wrists in his metal hand.

She’s stretched out at his mercy, because Bucky remembers what she asked him for. She wants him to take control, and even though they’re madly in love, he doesn’t have to be gentle right now. She doesn’t want him to be gentle. So he isn’t.

He holds her hands above her head and fucks her hard, rolling his hips and sinking his cock into her with quick, deep thrusts as he stares down at her face. She’s stretched out and wrapped around him, letting herself get fucked hard enough that the dagger pendant bounces a little on her chest with each thrust, and Bucky is absolutely enraptured.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, knowing full well that normally such a thing might get him understandably smacked, but it’s different during sex. In bed, specifically with them, Bucky eats up praise that would normally make him uncomfortable. “You’re so good for me.”

And he means it. She isn’t good because she listens to him, or behaves, or anything like that. She’s good for him. She’s a beautiful, chaotic light in his life, and she’s a good thing. She’s so fucking good, and he wants her to know it.

She might punch him if the words didn’t somehow work for her.

On the run for years, Sylvie had never bothered much with sex. She’d had partners, even a mailman once, as she had joked to Loki, but sex had rarely been high on her list of priorities and, when she had felt the need, it had been rushed, hurried, rarely anything more than a race to the end. A release. Everything was always dangerous at all times, she never really had a chance to rest, and even in the midst of sex, she was on guard. Prepared for danger.

In Darrow, for the first time, she gets to enjoy herself. Stretched out on the stairs, Sylvie opens and closes her fists, liking the way her bones and muscles move in the tight grip of Bucky’s metal hand. She could probably get free if she really wanted to, but she doesn’t.

“I’m the best,” she teases, breathless, laughing, a glint of danger in her eye. She drives one heel harder into the muscle of Bucky’s ass. “Aren’t I?”

Sylvie seems to shiver at the words and Bucky files that away for later, unsurprised by her response. She laughs and Bucky swears that he can feel it around his cock, or maybe she just looks so beautiful that it makes him ache.

After another few quick, hard thrusts, Bucky slows a little and pulls out of her only long enough to wrap one arm tight around her waist and roll them over, reversing their positions. He guides her back down onto his cock and then leans back to rest his elbows on the step behind him, planting his heels against a step below.

"Mm, I don't know," he murmurs, smirking and giving her an amused, challenging look. "Are you?"

"Watch how you answer that, I'm in possession of a very important bit of your anatomy at the moment," she replies, her hands braced on his chest. As if a threat, Sylvie tightens all the muscles of her pelvis, knowing Bucky will feel it, and she grins at him. The threat is clearly empty, the heat apparent in her eyes, and she rolls her hips on top of him, sinking further onto his cock.

Her thighs ache pleasantly on either sip of his hips from the stretch, her knees pressed against the stair, and she leans forward, putting one hand on the step behind his head, the other remaining on his chest.

"Aren't I?" she asks again, her voice low, hips moving in an agonizingly slow roll.

“Yeah, but I happen to know that you’re pretty fond of it,” Bucky replies, hissing and gritting his teeth as she clenches down around him. He laughs breathlessly and hums his approval, putting his hand on the sensual curves of her hips.

When she leans over him, Bucky tips his head back and looks her over, lifting his good hand to slowly drag it down the arm she has stretched over his head, over her armpit and one of her breasts before putting it on her hip again. She looks amazing, pale and glistening with sweat, and Bucky squeezes at her ass as she rolls her hips in a way that makes his toes curl.

“You’re a very good girl,” Bucky says in more of a teasing tone this time, but his expression shifts as his mouth goes slack. He stares at her, lifting his metal hand to her face and thumbing at her bottom lip. When he speaks again, he sounds far more serious. “You’re the best.”

Sylvie rides him slowly, stretched over him and pinning him back against the stairs, and Bucky rocks up to meet her, groaning as she sinks down onto him again and again, clutching at him with her body.

“If Loki came home now, he’d get quite the eyeful,” he admits with a breathless laugh, biting his lip as he moves his hand to the back of Sylvie’s neck. He never thought he would like anyone watching him have sex, and he supposes that’s still true. Loki and Sylvie aren’t just anyone. They all fit together in a way that somehow works, against all odds. “Wouldn’t that be a nice treat for him?”

Sylvie's lips curl into a victorious grin when Bucky says she's the best, even though she can sense the emotion behind the words. She feels it, too, the way her heart thumps harder at the sight of him, the fact that she's wearing this necklace at all, that they'd fought over something as stupid as a sweater.

She doesn't know how to communicate any of it. That Bucky is as intertwined in her life as anyone has ever gotten since before her timeline was taken from her. He and Loki both are part of her in a way she would never have imagined allowing herself to have.

"He should be so lucky as to walk in on this," she answers as she rides him, hips rolling, sweat glistening on her skin. "We're beautiful."

"Of course we are," Bucky says easily, because he has many insecurities, but what he looks like isn't one of them. He knows that they must make a one hell of a picture right now, and he considers himself lucky to see the best part of it. Sylvie's skin is pale and glistening in the afternoon light filtering in through the windows, glinting off of the dagger hanging between her full breasts, nipples tight and dusky pink, muscles of her stomach and thighs flexing as she rolls her hips.

She's so fucking beautiful, and Bucky stares at her face for a few long moments before letting his gaze drop down to where their bodies meet, watching as his cock sinks into her slick cunt again and again. He reaches down with his good hand, moving his fingers through the soft hair between her legs, tugging at it between his knuckles.

"Do you think he'd try to join?" Bucky asks breathlessly, sliding his fingers down to feel where she's stretched open around him. He feels dazed, almost dizzy with lust, and when she sinks down, he nudges the tip of his ring finger in alongside his cock, stretching her just a bit wider. "Do you think he'd fit?"

The stretch comes with a brief flare of pain, but the good kind, the sort that makes Sylvie gasp and arch her back. Would Loki fit? Maybe. They could make it work, she thinks, the three of them. In a strange way, they seem to make just about anything work.

"I think we'd certainly try," she answers with a gasp and a laugh. She braces her hands on Bucky's chest, her hips still rolling, picking up the pace, knowing she's close to coming again.

"Can you imagine it?" she asks. Loki may not be here, but they can certainly think about how pretty it would be, his long, pale body along with theirs on these steps.

"Definitely," Bucky groans out, sinking his finger in deeper and shifting his hand so his thumb rubs against her clit every time she sinks back down. She looks so gorgeous, glistening with sweat, mouth open in pleasure. He can practically see Loki over her shoulder, lips stretched into that devilish grin, and Bucky grits his teeth as he thrusts up into her.

"We should ambush him when he comes through the door," he says breathlessly, letting out an amused grunt and pulling his finger free so he can sit up on the stair, wrapping his metal arm around her slim waist to drag their bodies closer together. He grips the stair behind him with his good hand and thrusts up into her, panting as he tries to hold back his orgasm for just a little bit longer. "Include him in round two."

He thinks of the alley, and his own smile goes a bit devilish as he drags her down hard onto his cock, leaning forward to bite at her shoulder. "Or would it be round three?"

"I've lost count," she answers, rolling against Bucky. "I'm a bit distracted."

She's close now, the heat rippling through her, building in her cunt and rolling out, like she's being burned from the inside. It's a perfect feeling and while Sylvie has never been as fixated on sex as others, she can understand why people chase this sensation. Perhaps she'd never bother with others, but with Bucky, with Loki, she often feels like she can't get enough of them.

Dangerous. It's all so dangerous. She can't let it go.

"God, Bucky," she breathes, panting hard as they move together, her teeth pressed against his neck. She can smell him, feel him, she's wrapped up in him completely and she's so close.

"I know," Bucky assures her, because he feels it, too. It's intense, and such strong emotions can be terrifying for them both, but he knows that it's okay because it's her. They're dangerous people, and they've done countless terribly things, but the safest place that they can be with with each other, or with Loki. Even after all he's been through, Bucky feels so exceedingly lucky to have found not one, but two people that he can feel safe with.

"I've got you, it's okay," Bucky says in a low voice, thrusting up into her hard as he rubs at her clit, arm trapped stiffly between their bodies. "I'll come with you, sweetheart. I'm so close."

So close that his toes are curling, teeth gritted against the pressure building in his groin, but he won't come until she does, no matter how long it takes.

He could hold off, she thinks, for as long as she wanted him to. If she made him go longer, he would, or if she told him not to come, but to make her come again and again, she thinks he would. At the very least, he would try.

There's a certain type of power in that knowledge, a kind Sylvie doesn't want to allow herself to abuse. In another situation, she would. It would be too easy and she would take full advantage, but things with Bucky have been different, almost from the start. That first night, she hadn't been in a place to really want anything, but to pretend it hadn't been the start of something would be foolish.

So now she leans back again, braced against him, meeting his thrusts with each roll of her hips. He's deep inside her, his fingers against her clit, and Sylvie comes with a cry, some sound that's almost Bucky's name, riding high on the pleasure of the orgasm.

It takes all Bucky has to hold out, breath hitching as he grits his teeth, thighs tensing as his toes curl. When Sylvie comes, her body clenches down around Bucky's cock and he cries out, head falling back as he drags her down against him, burying himself in her body as his orgasm hits. They fall against each other and Bucky leans back, feeling the stairs press into his back as he wraps his arms around her.

"Fuck, Sylvie, fuck," he pants out, hips jerking as he empties inside of her. There's a wet mess between their bodies, both of them glistening with sweat, and Bucky's head hits the stair with a dull thud as he holds her against his body.

Once he catches his breath, he grabs the back of Sylvie's head and kisses her hard, slicking his tongue against hers as he palms at her ass. "I'm never gonna be able to walk up these steps without thinking about this," he admits against her mouth, smiling and biting playfully at her bottom lip.

"Good," she replies simply before kissing him again. With every memory created in this place, it becomes more theirs. She's never had a home before this townhouse and now, within less than a year, she can point to nearly every space and remember something that happened there.

Something with Loki. Something with Bucky. Others, too, the friends she's made. What a strange world she's found.

She kisses the edge of Bucky's jaw, hiding her face slightly as she does, so she can murmur, "I love you," without feeling too vulnerable.

"I'm so glad," Bucky pants out sincerely when she says that she loves him, still awed to hear the words from her and to know that she means them just as much as he does. "I love you, too."

He gives her a moment to shield her face, knowing that she needs it, and then gently palms her jaw and shifts her face until he can press a soft kiss to her forehead, and then another to her mouth. After a few moments, Bucky curls his metal arm around her waist and grunts as he lifts her off of his cock. His come leaks out of her, rolling in a thick bead down her thigh, and he palms gently at her swollen cunt just to feel for himself how warm and wet she is.

Bucky takes his hand away and meets her eye as he sucks the pad of his thumb clean, tasting them both with a bashful sort of grin before holding onto her and getting to his feet, holding her against him as if she weighed nothing at all.

"Probably time for a shower, huh?" He carries her the rest of the way up the stairs and toward her bedroom, stopping briefly to press her back against the door and kiss her again, slow and deep, pouring affection into it.

"A shower, a nap," she agrees, smirking slightly at the way he carries her as if she weighs nothing at all. To him, she supposes it isn't much effort, the same as it might be for her. She's not quite as strong as he is, but there's certainly more strength in her than even a regularly strong man.

He stops to kiss her and Sylvie's arms snake around his shoulder, holding him tight as they kiss. It feels different than it did only moments before. Intimate in a different way. A kiss that isn't necessarily a lead in to sex and she finds she loves this moment as much as any of the others they've shared.

That alone ought to be frightening and it both is and isn't. She's prepared to be terrified, as it turns out.

“Mm, are you saying that I wore you out?” Bucky teases between kisses, palming at her ass and the backs of her thighs as her full breasts press against his chest. He doesn’t think that he’ll ever tire of touching her all over, whether it leads to sex or not. Her skin is so soft, so smooth, and Bucky wants to touch his mouth to every single inch of it.

Bucky carries her into the bathroom and, as always, blushes slightly at the sight of the tub. It’s where the three of them first came together, back when Bucky had no idea how it all would work. Turns out that it just does, despite all the reasons it probably shouldn’t, and he’s grateful for that.

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t get on my knees and go down on you one more time?” He teases as he steps into the shower and closes the glass door behind them, finally setting Sylvie back down on her feet and grinning down at her, hands sliding up her sides. “Pity. I was even gonna let you pull my hair.”

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