Steph was embarrassed at how loud she'd moaned when Bucky started to rub his fingers over her panties, and it only intensified when she thrust her hips in response, chasing that sweet friction. Yet even with her face burning, she couldn't bring herself to stop; it helped that her reaction only spurred him to continue instead of stop.
She let out a little whine when he pulled his hand out, only for her eyes to widen as she realized he was going to take his underwear off. She probably should, too, but she was immediately distracted by his cock, now in full view and within reach after years and years of just fantasizing about it. Oh, she'd caught glimpses in the past, most often during the war, and she'd relieved herself to wild imaginings of what they could do with it. Now she didn't have to imagine.
She'd been in the thick of battle countless times, felt the rush of blood in her ears, but all those times seemed to pale in comparison to his simple act of tugging down her shorts and panties. She was exposed, and she thought she might die of embarrassment, but the look he gave her as ran his gaze up her body made her feel the opposite. He thought he was beautiful. Most importantly, however, he loved her.
She met him in the kiss, eagerly capturing his tongue, only to moan open-mouthed — and even more loudly at that — when his fingers slid through her folds. "Fuck," she whimpered, for a minute unable to do anything else but groan and gasp into his mouth while she ground into his fingers.
Then, remembering that this shouldn't only be about her, she untangled her hand from his hair to wrap her fingers around his cock. Fuck, he was huge. And so, so hard. She wasn't sure if she wanted him inside her first, or inside her mouth.
Every moan Steph let out shot straight through Bucky. It was amazing, knowing he could make her feel like that, moan loud and curse with just his fingers and his mouth. He wasn't even thinking about seeking his own pleasure, too wrapped up with making her feel good. Bucky had always put Steph before himself, and it would definitely be no different when they were in bed together.
But then he felt her hand wrap around his cock, and for a moment, Bucky's brain went entirely blank. "Fuck, sweetheart," he moaned against her mouth. He moved his metal hand from the back of her neck and let it grip at the sheets beside him instead, not wanting to accidentally squeeze her too hard with it.
The way she continued to move her hips, though, worked as some encouragement for him. Bucky slid the tip of his middle finger over her opening before pressing it into her slowly. It was just one finger but he still groaned at the feeling of having her muscles wrapped around a part of him.
It wasn't that Steph didn't know how to give a handjob; she was just taking it slow and mostly feeling him up because, aside from simply being fascinated by the experience of getting to touch him in this way, she didn't want to accidentally grip him too hard and hurt him. If he wasn't doing anything to her, perhaps she could concentrate enough. As it was, she was too distracted by his fingers. Even the squelching sounds from when she'd slide along them was unexpectedly arousing.
She gave up when he started pressing into her. She let go of his cock and gripped his hip instead, and broke off from their kissing to bury her face into the side of his neck, her breath hot against his skin. "Fuck," she moaned, and it was as drawn out as the slow push and pull of his finger. More swearing followed, until she felt the urge to move her hips again; then she was gasping and even lightly biting on his shoulder. She could swear he was teasing her — because why wouldn't he? — but she was helpless against the new kind of high he was giving her.
"Do you—" she asked suddenly, breathlessly, "—do you want to—" He did something with his finger (fingers? she wasn't sure) then, one that shot a current of pleasure through her and made her cry out, after which she reached for his cock again. "Please," she practically whimpered, and she hoped he understood what she was asking.
Bucky groaned softly, biting down on his lip. He didn't mind at all that she let go of him, he enjoyed making her feel good, and apparently he enjoyed the feeling of her biting at his shoulder. But there wasn't much he wouldn't enjoy with her, dammit.
"I want to do everything with you, Steph," he turned his head to kiss her hair, bringing his other arm up to wrap around her shoulders as he added a second finger, sliding them in and out of her slowly. "Everything. But I don't have any condoms or anything." Getting the biggest box of condoms he could find would be going on the top of Bucky's to-do list, but he'd never had reason to purchase any before. He and Steph wren't together, and he'd never had interest in being with anyone but Steph.
But now they were together and Bucky was never going to let her go.
Was the serum working overtime, or was it just easy to ignore the pain and the exhaustion with how good it felt to have Bucky touching her? Steph didn't even feel embarrassed anymore that she was humping his hand as if it was his cock and moaning loudly into his shoulder, her mouth wet and warm over his scars.
"It's fine, I can take a pill if I gotta," she answered without even a hint of hesitation. Could she even get pregnant? She knew it would have been dangerous for her before the serum (and awful for the baby), and after... well, it didn't seem very smart to engineer the perfect soldier only to be unable to deploy her because she was on maternity leave. Not that she'd ever given it much thought, since she'd only ever wanted to be with Bucky, and he'd either been dead or seemingly uninterested.
But, God. That had been the dream once. They would get married, have a kid, and live in a nice house with a picket fence. And maybe a dog. Or a cat. She wasn't picky, she just wanted a pet since she was allergic and never allowed to have any as a child.
"Jesus, sweetheart," Bucky groaned softly just from the thought of being in Steph for the first time, and bare at that. "You sure," he asked, his eyes filled with lust as he looked at her. "Cause I want some time with just me and you before we throw a kid in the mix."
Had Bucky thought about raising kids with Steph over the years? Of course he did. He always thought she would be a fantastic mom, and he had hoped to be the lucky man to raise them with her. But that didn't mean he wanted to skip directly to that. They were already skipping enough steps.
That being said, like he would pass up the chance he was being offered.
"Y-Yeah, I'm sure. I got some in the bathroom. A few of the girls in my support group had wanted some, but didn't want to be seen buying them." It felt important to explain why she conveniently had some morning after pills, as she didn't want him to think she'd been seeing someone while he was dead. The rest of the story about her support group and the people she'd helped would have to wait, though. Just as their talk about kids. She was happy to hear he was open to it, but she was already too wound up to want to stop and just talk.
"So, uh, you wanna scoot back so you can lean on the pillows, or...?" She didn't particularly care who was on top, as long as he was inside her, but she figured their current position was the kindest for his leg. Still, they could switch if he wanted, or keep going for the time being. This was as much for him as it was for her, after all.
Support group? Yeah, that would be a question for later. Bucky was a lot more interested in the way their night was headed, but he would definitely be asking about that later.
Instead, he gently removed his fingers from Steph and scooted up the bed a bit, using his good leg to kick his underwear the rest of the way off as he moved. So there he was, leaning back against the pillows and headboard, completely bare for his wife. Grinning, he reached his hands out to tug her closer to him by her hips.
"I love you, Steph," he told her again. Bucky was pretty sure he'd never stop telling her that now that he was allowed to, just like he was absolutely positive he would never stop being in love with her. All those years of his silence were proof of that.
Steph was momentarily distracted by the view of Bucky completely naked before her. She bit down on her lower lip as her gaze traveled down his body, the throbbing sensation between her legs intensifying. Fuck, he was hot. She had never found herself particularly interested in muscled men, or even naked men in general, but, shit, those thighs. And that cock, which was a lot bigger and thicker than she imagined.
"I love you too, Buck." His hands on her hips reminded her that she still had her remaining items of clothing stuck on her legs, so she shifted off him and to a seated position to pull off her shorts and panties. Then she turned back to him, only to pause and reconsider. She licked her lips.
"Actually, do you mind turning that way and moving to the edge for a bit...?" Her cheeks were aflame again. Damn it, she could curse and say fuck without a thought, but openly talking about sex still got her tongue-tied. Thankfully, dumbass as he was occasionally, there would have been no way for him to misinterpret her sinking to the floor, on her knees, between his legs.
Moving to the edge of the bed like Steph had asked him to, Bucky couldn't help the groan that came out of him at the sight of her going to her knees in front of him. "Jesus, sweetheart," he all but breathed out, face going red as he watched her. It was clear that she was getting to do one of the many things he thought he would only ever get to imagine her doing.
Reaching out, he pushed the pieces of Steph's hair that were falling from her ponytail back behind her ear. "You sure?" he asked softly. From what he understood, a lot of people didn't enjoy going down on their partner. Bucky was pretty sure he would be into using his mouth on Steph, but there wasn't much of anything he could picture doing with her that he wouldn't enjoy. "I mean, I definitely want you to. Definitely. But only if you do."
She felt a degree of satisfaction at having surprised him and making him blush. Now she was even more determined that he would enjoy what they did next. "I don't know if I'll be good at it, but yeah, I wanna."
She sucked on his cock for a bit. Then he wanted to return the favor and taste her, so she sat on his face for a little while, until they both felt the burning need to finish with a proper fuck. Whatever expectations she had were blown out the window, and she understood, finally, why it was called 'making love'.
She was ready to pass out by the time she lay down next to him, out of breath and energy spent. "We gotta do this again, like, a lot," she murmured sleepily as she curled into his side. She was supposed to sleep on his right, but she'd rolled over to the other side after they finished and now couldn't be assed to budge. She clung to his metal arm, unbothered. She'd slept on harder and colder surfaces back during the war; at least this one was attached to a man who would kiss her and keep her warm. Besides, she couldn't sleep the other way anyway, since her left arm was in a sling.
"I love you, Buck," she added with a contented sigh. "I'm so glad you're home."
Bucky was perfectly content, a soft smile on his face as he rolled to hold Steph close, glad that he waited all those years for Steph to be the first--and only--woman he was with. "Good luck keeping me off of you after that, sweetheart," Bucky chuckled, closing his eyes as he rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. "That was better than I even imagined it could be." Bucky always knew it would be good, of course, but he didn't realize it would be that good.
He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then opened his eyes again to look at her. "I love you, too, Steph. I wish it didn't take me so damn long to tell you that." If he had known, he would have married her as soon as she graduated when they were young.
But the important thing was that they knew now. And he might have already thought of her as his wife, but at some point they'd go and make her his wife legally.
"Oh, don't worry, I can do this all day," Steph quipped with a grin, though her eyes remained closed. Honestly, Bucky wouldn't be the only one; she had realized that, with the right person, sex was so much fun, and that she might have a bit of an appetite. If she wasn't so exhausted from all the fighting she would already be trying for seconds.
She met his gaze after he told her he loved her though, and lifted a hand to cup his cheek. "We're here now," she reminded, as if their naked bodies tangled together wasn't enough of a reminder. But some things had to be said. "You can tell me every day."
She yawned then and curled back into him. "Shower sex when I wake up," she still managed to tease despite being half-asleep. "We both need a bath anyway. Might be out for a few days though. Help yourself to anything, this is your place now too."
"One of these days we'll put that to the test." After they were healed up, of course. They'd spend the entire day in bed. Or in the shower. Or anywhere, really, since it was apparently their apartment now, and the apartment had plenty of surfaces and walls.
"I'll tell you all the time. Can't let you forget it," Bucky said, smiling as he tugged her just a bit closer and let his eyes slide closed. He might not have been through all the shit Steph had for the last five years, but he basically went directly from one giant battle into another without more than two minutes of rest in between. He was worn out, too, and who knew how long he would sleep--especially with the love of his life in his arms.
They probably should have showered before falling into bed, but Bucky didn't give a shit about that. Instead, he just hoped that his ankle would heal up enough in time for the promised shower sex.
Steph woke up starving two days later, and would probably have slept for longer if she had any more food to burn. Her arm felt better, at least, so she took the sling off and let the limb stretch, opening and closing her fist to fend off the numbness.
She'd almost panicked to find Bucky gone, but she could hear him moving around the kitchen. Perfect timing.
She looked around for her shirt, then, seeing his left behind on the bed, she picked it up instead and put it on. It was the one he'd worn before they crashed into bed, but she didn't mind. She needed a shower anyway, and it still smelled like him, just maybe with a bit more sweat and blood.
She got up, decided to forego wearing anything else, and made her way toward the kitchen. The shirt was still a size bigger than she was but not much bigger, so the bottom hem barely covered her ass or her pussy. It was fine. There was no longer any need to leave anything to his imagination.
"Hey," she greeted, running her fingers through her messy hair. It didn't look like it was morning.
Bucky had only been up for a few hours himself, having slept for roughly a day and a half. His ankle wasn't fully healed yet, but it was good enough that he could move around without so much as a limp, just a slight twinge with each step.
Wearing nothing more than his boxer briefs (he really should get some clothes, but everything he had was back in Wakanda, if they didn't get rid of it), he was in the middle of emptying the dishwasher when he heard Steph speak behind him.
There was a soft smile on his face as he turned to look at his beautiful wife, loving the sight of her wearing his shirt with messy bed head. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, setting the dish aside and crossing the room so he could slide his arms around her waist and give her a soft kiss on the mouth. "Feeling better?"
Steph's arms slipped around Bucky's neck without any thought, the gesture as natural as breathing. It really was crazy in hindsight how neither of them had realized what was going on between them. "Yeah, I'm just starving," she said with a soft smile when they pulled back, because of course she was kissing him properly. "I'll go order us some food." Her phone had been blown up along with the Avengers Compound, but she was old-fashioned enough to have retained a landline and a phonebook in her apartment.
"You feeling better too, yeah?" He wasn't limping, which was good. Then she remembered something. "Oh! I might have a change of clothes for you." There was a second bedroom she'd meant to offer to him if he ever decided to leave Wakanda, but the Snap happened and she'd never touched the room since. She was pretty sure she'd bought something for him to wear already, just in case. "A few years old, but they should fit you," she said with a sheepish laugh.
"Sounds good to me. I've just been kinda snacking on random things I've found in here." The kitchen wasn't exactly well stocked, especially with everything they'd downed a couple of days earlier.
Letting go of Steph, Bucky moved back to the dishwasher to continue what he was doing. "Eh, still a little sore, but that's pretty much it," he said, shrugging as he started putting silverware in the drawer. Grinning, he continued. "Clothes would probably be good, though. Those pants had to be trashed, and it looks like my shirt got stolen, so I'm down to only underwear and socks."
Not that he minded Steph stealing his clothes like that. Hell, even when they were young he'd like when she so much as borrowed his jacket.
"I would draw you in that," Steph teased Bucky with a wink before excusing herself to order some food. She had a list of go-to places, but she wasn't sure if they'd been affected by the chaos that resulted from bringing back half the universe. Reminded of that, she turned on the TV and scanned the news channels while she made her calls, reading the headlines as they scrolled through the screen.
She had her go-to orders too, so it was just twice of that with another supersoldier in the house. It took her four calls to successfully place an order, long enough to have seen the big ticket news items.
"Well, shit." She sat down on the couch for a moment, frowning at the TV as she turned up the volume. As expected, there were reports about the battle (and how they have not yet had an official statement from the Avengers, as Tony was dead and apparently she was missing), but what threw her off was the chaos among the general populace and the government scrambling to respond. The media was calling the return of the Vanished the Blip.
Bucky quickly finished his task before following Steph into the living room and taking a seat beside her on the couch, draping an arm over her shoulders as he did so.
Bucky frowned as he watched the news with her, taking it in as best he could, but he had no context of before. "What was it like when we were gone?" he asked, eyes glued to the tv as he watched the chaos. Apparently, there were already housing disputes, people who remarried and had children, children whose parents had been taken and were suddenly back, all sorts of things. Five years was a long time for most people. "I really haven't stopped to think about it yet."
"Quiet." And New York was never quiet, not even during the days of their youth. "You know I once saw a pod of whales in the Hudson? The water was that clear, with fewer ships and all." The disbelief was still evident in Steph's voice.
She sighed, leaning back and resting her head on Bucky's shoulder. "I went MIA for a while after we... lost." It was still hard to talk about the last five years and the incident that brought it upon them, even if they'd already defeated Thanos and brought everyone back. "Locked myself up here and drunk myself blind. Natasha took over what was left of the Avengers because I wanted nothing to do with it." She chuckled darkly. "Only stopped because I ran out of booze. Thor was drinking New Asgard dry and didn't have any more to spare."
The unspoken question hung in the air: Did you try to kill yourself again? She had admitted attempting that, after all, in '45 — and they had won then. But she continued, "So I thought I'd do something with my life and started a support group, like Sam used to." She sighed again, gesturing vaguely at the TV. "I helped some of those people move on, Buck. Told them we gotta. Told them we gotta try and become whole again, and find purpose."
Then she jumped at the first, impossible chance to bring the Vanished back, because it would bring him back.
Bucky's arm tightened around Steph as he turned his head to press a kiss to her hair. "So what if you were a hypocrite?" he began simply. "You still helped people, sweetheart. Yeah, they're gonna have a little more drama right now, but you think that mom they showed-" he gestured at the news with his free hand "-that got her kids back is gonna be mad you're a hypocrite? Or the people who were gone themselves. You brought half the universe back to life, doll. And I think you woulda still done the same if you had moved on."
Sighing, Bucky let his head rest against hers, no longer paying any attention to the news at all. "Call me selfish, but I'm glad you didn't. Imagine if I had found you on that field, told you I love you, and you were just like, sorry Buck, too late." It would have torn him up if that happened, but he would have understood. He did make her wait a century, after all.
"Can't imagine," said Steph quickly, though that wasn't the point. It was true though. She had loved him for as long as she could remember that she couldn't picture anything else. When she'd first been thawed, she'd had at least two years to move on, but didn't. Then the last five years. She might not have known what to do with herself after the Snap, but she knew she wasn't going to find anyone else.
That said, she shifted to stand. "C'mon. Got something to show you."
She led him to the room that had been kept shut since he arrived with her. "Might be a little dusty," she warned before she twisted the knob and nudged the door open with her hip.
It was a furnished guest room. There was at least a bed, a nightstand, a closet and a chest of drawers. She hesitated for a second, then said, "I was holding on to this space for you, in case you ever wanted to move out of Wakanda. Then you were gone and I just... left it here."
She made her way to the closet and opened it with a quiet laugh. It didn't hold clothes, but a hidden weapons rack. She reached in to pull out the lone weapon in it: a sniper rifle. "Ta-da." They both knew she preferred handguns, as a primarily close combatant, so she clearly didn't get it for herself.
Bucky followed after Steph, proud of himself for only getting momentarily distracted by the way his shirt just barely covered her ass, especially when she bumped the door with her hip, but he was too curious to stay distracted.
As he looked around the bare room, it hit him. She really had been waiting. Not just for the right time to tell him how she felt, or waiting for him to tell her, she'd even been waiting for him to get well enough to just... be nearby. And he had been so close to that point himself before that first battle. His best days were already the ones when she came to visit.
He was about to say something about that when she opened the closet and pulled out a sniper rifle. "You know you don't have to buy me presents to get me to watch your back, right?" he asked, a tiny smirk on his lips as he looked the gun over, then back at her as he set it down, leaning it against the nightstand. Stepping close, he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. "I'm always gonna watch your back."
The smirk grew a little then, his natural hand moving to give Steph's ass a teasing squeeze. "Even if sometimes it's just me watching your backside."
Normally Steph hated jokes about her ass, but if there was anyone allowed to appreciate it, it was Bucky. Hell, he could objectify her and she would bask in it. So she had no objections whatsoever to his declaration, or to having his hand on her ass.
"But I got you more presents," she pretended to whine, walking them backwards to the closet until she was somewhat leaning on the unopened other door. She rapped her knuckles on the surface. "Not vibranium, but it's reinforced." Then she reached inside to push a button, the top rack folding to reveal a secret compartment. "And I recovered some of your old stuff."
There were some of his journals, some of his gear during his tenure as the Winter Soldier (including those damn exploding disks), a few letters he'd written during the war, and something that looked like a small book wrapped in craft paper. She'd taken them from the HYDRA bases they'd raided (she had a feeling Fury knew but turned a blind eye to it) and stolen the others from the CIA. Long story. Sam and Nat were involved.
"You're gonna have to do more than just watch my backside now," she teased.
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She let out a little whine when he pulled his hand out, only for her eyes to widen as she realized he was going to take his underwear off. She probably should, too, but she was immediately distracted by his cock, now in full view and within reach after years and years of just fantasizing about it. Oh, she'd caught glimpses in the past, most often during the war, and she'd relieved herself to wild imaginings of what they could do with it. Now she didn't have to imagine.
She'd been in the thick of battle countless times, felt the rush of blood in her ears, but all those times seemed to pale in comparison to his simple act of tugging down her shorts and panties. She was exposed, and she thought she might die of embarrassment, but the look he gave her as ran his gaze up her body made her feel the opposite. He thought he was beautiful. Most importantly, however, he loved her.
She met him in the kiss, eagerly capturing his tongue, only to moan open-mouthed — and even more loudly at that — when his fingers slid through her folds. "Fuck," she whimpered, for a minute unable to do anything else but groan and gasp into his mouth while she ground into his fingers.
Then, remembering that this shouldn't only be about her, she untangled her hand from his hair to wrap her fingers around his cock. Fuck, he was huge. And so, so hard. She wasn't sure if she wanted him inside her first, or inside her mouth.
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But then he felt her hand wrap around his cock, and for a moment, Bucky's brain went entirely blank. "Fuck, sweetheart," he moaned against her mouth. He moved his metal hand from the back of her neck and let it grip at the sheets beside him instead, not wanting to accidentally squeeze her too hard with it.
The way she continued to move her hips, though, worked as some encouragement for him. Bucky slid the tip of his middle finger over her opening before pressing it into her slowly. It was just one finger but he still groaned at the feeling of having her muscles wrapped around a part of him.
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She gave up when he started pressing into her. She let go of his cock and gripped his hip instead, and broke off from their kissing to bury her face into the side of his neck, her breath hot against his skin. "Fuck," she moaned, and it was as drawn out as the slow push and pull of his finger. More swearing followed, until she felt the urge to move her hips again; then she was gasping and even lightly biting on his shoulder. She could swear he was teasing her — because why wouldn't he? — but she was helpless against the new kind of high he was giving her.
"Do you—" she asked suddenly, breathlessly, "—do you want to—" He did something with his finger (fingers? she wasn't sure) then, one that shot a current of pleasure through her and made her cry out, after which she reached for his cock again. "Please," she practically whimpered, and she hoped he understood what she was asking.
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"I want to do everything with you, Steph," he turned his head to kiss her hair, bringing his other arm up to wrap around her shoulders as he added a second finger, sliding them in and out of her slowly. "Everything. But I don't have any condoms or anything." Getting the biggest box of condoms he could find would be going on the top of Bucky's to-do list, but he'd never had reason to purchase any before. He and Steph wren't together, and he'd never had interest in being with anyone but Steph.
But now they were together and Bucky was never going to let her go.
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"It's fine, I can take a pill if I gotta," she answered without even a hint of hesitation. Could she even get pregnant? She knew it would have been dangerous for her before the serum (and awful for the baby), and after... well, it didn't seem very smart to engineer the perfect soldier only to be unable to deploy her because she was on maternity leave. Not that she'd ever given it much thought, since she'd only ever wanted to be with Bucky, and he'd either been dead or seemingly uninterested.
But, God. That had been the dream once. They would get married, have a kid, and live in a nice house with a picket fence. And maybe a dog. Or a cat. She wasn't picky, she just wanted a pet since she was allergic and never allowed to have any as a child.
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Had Bucky thought about raising kids with Steph over the years? Of course he did. He always thought she would be a fantastic mom, and he had hoped to be the lucky man to raise them with her. But that didn't mean he wanted to skip directly to that. They were already skipping enough steps.
That being said, like he would pass up the chance he was being offered.
"If you're sure then yeah, I definitely want to."
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"So, uh, you wanna scoot back so you can lean on the pillows, or...?" She didn't particularly care who was on top, as long as he was inside her, but she figured their current position was the kindest for his leg. Still, they could switch if he wanted, or keep going for the time being. This was as much for him as it was for her, after all.
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Instead, he gently removed his fingers from Steph and scooted up the bed a bit, using his good leg to kick his underwear the rest of the way off as he moved. So there he was, leaning back against the pillows and headboard, completely bare for his wife. Grinning, he reached his hands out to tug her closer to him by her hips.
"I love you, Steph," he told her again. Bucky was pretty sure he'd never stop telling her that now that he was allowed to, just like he was absolutely positive he would never stop being in love with her. All those years of his silence were proof of that.
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"I love you too, Buck." His hands on her hips reminded her that she still had her remaining items of clothing stuck on her legs, so she shifted off him and to a seated position to pull off her shorts and panties. Then she turned back to him, only to pause and reconsider. She licked her lips.
"Actually, do you mind turning that way and moving to the edge for a bit...?" Her cheeks were aflame again. Damn it, she could curse and say fuck without a thought, but openly talking about sex still got her tongue-tied. Thankfully, dumbass as he was occasionally, there would have been no way for him to misinterpret her sinking to the floor, on her knees, between his legs.
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Reaching out, he pushed the pieces of Steph's hair that were falling from her ponytail back behind her ear. "You sure?" he asked softly. From what he understood, a lot of people didn't enjoy going down on their partner. Bucky was pretty sure he would be into using his mouth on Steph, but there wasn't much of anything he could picture doing with her that he wouldn't enjoy. "I mean, I definitely want you to. Definitely. But only if you do."
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She sucked on his cock for a bit. Then he wanted to return the favor and taste her, so she sat on his face for a little while, until they both felt the burning need to finish with a proper fuck. Whatever expectations she had were blown out the window, and she understood, finally, why it was called 'making love'.
She was ready to pass out by the time she lay down next to him, out of breath and energy spent. "We gotta do this again, like, a lot," she murmured sleepily as she curled into his side. She was supposed to sleep on his right, but she'd rolled over to the other side after they finished and now couldn't be assed to budge. She clung to his metal arm, unbothered. She'd slept on harder and colder surfaces back during the war; at least this one was attached to a man who would kiss her and keep her warm. Besides, she couldn't sleep the other way anyway, since her left arm was in a sling.
"I love you, Buck," she added with a contented sigh. "I'm so glad you're home."
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He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then opened his eyes again to look at her. "I love you, too, Steph. I wish it didn't take me so damn long to tell you that." If he had known, he would have married her as soon as she graduated when they were young.
But the important thing was that they knew now. And he might have already thought of her as his wife, but at some point they'd go and make her his wife legally.
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She met his gaze after he told her he loved her though, and lifted a hand to cup his cheek. "We're here now," she reminded, as if their naked bodies tangled together wasn't enough of a reminder. But some things had to be said. "You can tell me every day."
She yawned then and curled back into him. "Shower sex when I wake up," she still managed to tease despite being half-asleep. "We both need a bath anyway. Might be out for a few days though. Help yourself to anything, this is your place now too."
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"I'll tell you all the time. Can't let you forget it," Bucky said, smiling as he tugged her just a bit closer and let his eyes slide closed. He might not have been through all the shit Steph had for the last five years, but he basically went directly from one giant battle into another without more than two minutes of rest in between. He was worn out, too, and who knew how long he would sleep--especially with the love of his life in his arms.
They probably should have showered before falling into bed, but Bucky didn't give a shit about that. Instead, he just hoped that his ankle would heal up enough in time for the promised shower sex.
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She'd almost panicked to find Bucky gone, but she could hear him moving around the kitchen. Perfect timing.
She looked around for her shirt, then, seeing his left behind on the bed, she picked it up instead and put it on. It was the one he'd worn before they crashed into bed, but she didn't mind. She needed a shower anyway, and it still smelled like him, just maybe with a bit more sweat and blood.
She got up, decided to forego wearing anything else, and made her way toward the kitchen. The shirt was still a size bigger than she was but not much bigger, so the bottom hem barely covered her ass or her pussy. It was fine. There was no longer any need to leave anything to his imagination.
"Hey," she greeted, running her fingers through her messy hair. It didn't look like it was morning.
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Wearing nothing more than his boxer briefs (he really should get some clothes, but everything he had was back in Wakanda, if they didn't get rid of it), he was in the middle of emptying the dishwasher when he heard Steph speak behind him.
There was a soft smile on his face as he turned to look at his beautiful wife, loving the sight of her wearing his shirt with messy bed head. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, setting the dish aside and crossing the room so he could slide his arms around her waist and give her a soft kiss on the mouth. "Feeling better?"
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"You feeling better too, yeah?" He wasn't limping, which was good. Then she remembered something. "Oh! I might have a change of clothes for you." There was a second bedroom she'd meant to offer to him if he ever decided to leave Wakanda, but the Snap happened and she'd never touched the room since. She was pretty sure she'd bought something for him to wear already, just in case. "A few years old, but they should fit you," she said with a sheepish laugh.
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Letting go of Steph, Bucky moved back to the dishwasher to continue what he was doing. "Eh, still a little sore, but that's pretty much it," he said, shrugging as he started putting silverware in the drawer. Grinning, he continued. "Clothes would probably be good, though. Those pants had to be trashed, and it looks like my shirt got stolen, so I'm down to only underwear and socks."
Not that he minded Steph stealing his clothes like that. Hell, even when they were young he'd like when she so much as borrowed his jacket.
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She had her go-to orders too, so it was just twice of that with another supersoldier in the house. It took her four calls to successfully place an order, long enough to have seen the big ticket news items.
"Well, shit." She sat down on the couch for a moment, frowning at the TV as she turned up the volume. As expected, there were reports about the battle (and how they have not yet had an official statement from the Avengers, as Tony was dead and apparently she was missing), but what threw her off was the chaos among the general populace and the government scrambling to respond. The media was calling the return of the Vanished the Blip.
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Bucky frowned as he watched the news with her, taking it in as best he could, but he had no context of before. "What was it like when we were gone?" he asked, eyes glued to the tv as he watched the chaos. Apparently, there were already housing disputes, people who remarried and had children, children whose parents had been taken and were suddenly back, all sorts of things. Five years was a long time for most people. "I really haven't stopped to think about it yet."
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She sighed, leaning back and resting her head on Bucky's shoulder. "I went MIA for a while after we... lost." It was still hard to talk about the last five years and the incident that brought it upon them, even if they'd already defeated Thanos and brought everyone back. "Locked myself up here and drunk myself blind. Natasha took over what was left of the Avengers because I wanted nothing to do with it." She chuckled darkly. "Only stopped because I ran out of booze. Thor was drinking New Asgard dry and didn't have any more to spare."
The unspoken question hung in the air: Did you try to kill yourself again? She had admitted attempting that, after all, in '45 — and they had won then. But she continued, "So I thought I'd do something with my life and started a support group, like Sam used to." She sighed again, gesturing vaguely at the TV. "I helped some of those people move on, Buck. Told them we gotta. Told them we gotta try and become whole again, and find purpose."
Then she jumped at the first, impossible chance to bring the Vanished back, because it would bring him back.
"I'm a fucking hypocrite."
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Sighing, Bucky let his head rest against hers, no longer paying any attention to the news at all. "Call me selfish, but I'm glad you didn't. Imagine if I had found you on that field, told you I love you, and you were just like, sorry Buck, too late." It would have torn him up if that happened, but he would have understood. He did make her wait a century, after all.
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That said, she shifted to stand. "C'mon. Got something to show you."
She led him to the room that had been kept shut since he arrived with her. "Might be a little dusty," she warned before she twisted the knob and nudged the door open with her hip.
It was a furnished guest room. There was at least a bed, a nightstand, a closet and a chest of drawers. She hesitated for a second, then said, "I was holding on to this space for you, in case you ever wanted to move out of Wakanda. Then you were gone and I just... left it here."
She made her way to the closet and opened it with a quiet laugh. It didn't hold clothes, but a hidden weapons rack. She reached in to pull out the lone weapon in it: a sniper rifle. "Ta-da." They both knew she preferred handguns, as a primarily close combatant, so she clearly didn't get it for herself.
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As he looked around the bare room, it hit him. She really had been waiting. Not just for the right time to tell him how she felt, or waiting for him to tell her, she'd even been waiting for him to get well enough to just... be nearby. And he had been so close to that point himself before that first battle. His best days were already the ones when she came to visit.
He was about to say something about that when she opened the closet and pulled out a sniper rifle. "You know you don't have to buy me presents to get me to watch your back, right?" he asked, a tiny smirk on his lips as he looked the gun over, then back at her as he set it down, leaning it against the nightstand. Stepping close, he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. "I'm always gonna watch your back."
The smirk grew a little then, his natural hand moving to give Steph's ass a teasing squeeze. "Even if sometimes it's just me watching your backside."
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"But I got you more presents," she pretended to whine, walking them backwards to the closet until she was somewhat leaning on the unopened other door. She rapped her knuckles on the surface. "Not vibranium, but it's reinforced." Then she reached inside to push a button, the top rack folding to reveal a secret compartment. "And I recovered some of your old stuff."
There were some of his journals, some of his gear during his tenure as the Winter Soldier (including those damn exploding disks), a few letters he'd written during the war, and something that looked like a small book wrapped in craft paper. She'd taken them from the HYDRA bases they'd raided (she had a feeling Fury knew but turned a blind eye to it) and stolen the others from the CIA. Long story. Sam and Nat were involved.
"You're gonna have to do more than just watch my backside now," she teased.
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i had to now
yesssss
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