Something More

Laying in bed next to Bucky that night you felt like Goldilocks nothing was right.

 At first it had been too warm in his room to sleep. Then it had been too cold and when you went to reach for the covers he had them all hogged. Then it was because the bed was too soft. Then it was too hard. 

Tossing and turning you groaned in frustration unable to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Rolling onto your side you peered into the darkness weighing your options. Trying to fall asleep was proving useless which meant you could continue to toss and turn and risk waking Bucky up or you could go into the living room and watch tv. 

While that idea had some promise it had been impossible for you to find something to watch earlier leading him to put on a stupid science fiction movie you had seen countless times before. There was the option of grabbing a book and trying to read, but you knew you wouldn't be able to concentrate on the words. Hell you couldn't even shut your mind off long enough to let sleep overtake you. 

Thoughts of what had taken place on the couch consumed you from the inside out. 

When the two of you had managed to untangle yourselves and gotten cleaned up only to end up back on the couch cuddled together your head on his chest his fingertips ghosting up and down your arm all you could think about was the way he had slipped his fingers past your soft folds making you see stars. And when you had started to drift off when he put that stupid science fiction movie on and he had kissed the top of your head all you could think about was the way he had let his lips skim across your heated cheek when you had been moving over his lap. 

When you had gotten ready for bed and had seen him in nothing but his boxers hanging low on his hips all you could think about was the bulge in them the first time you had made out, the way you could feel him pressing against your clothed core making you wonder what he would feel like in the palm of your hand, slipped past your parted lips, inside of you. And when he had pulled you close to him kissing your forehead bidding you goodnight all you could think about was the way he had peppered your face in loving kisses after bringing you to your second release. 

And when he awoke and rolled over wrapping his arms around your middle pulling your back flush against his chest all you could think about was the way his large hands had cupped your breasts that first time, the way his fingers had dug into your ass pulling and pushing you over him. His breath was warm against your neck, his voice husky in the darkness when he murmured your name making you think about the way he had teased you with such dirty words earlier in the evening. Whining you unintentionally pushed back against him smiling when he groaned and mumbled a quiet fuck followed by his hands dipping underneath your shirt and caressing the soft skin of your stomach. It wouldn't take much for his hands to slip a little higher, for his thumb to brush over your nipples. Wouldn't take much for him to kiss your neck. Wouldn't take much for him to slip his hands into your underwear again. Emboldened by the low groans he emitted you pushed back against him again harder this time. 

The fire he had ignited in you earlier was burning hotter burning brighter.

Shifting in his warm embrace you rolled over so you were facing him. Your movements were awkward and clumsy, but he didn't seem to mind as he pulled you closer tangling your bodies in a mess of legs and limbs. Hardness and softness. It was hard to tell where you ended and he began. 

It was quiet in his room, but you could faintly hear the television playing a laugh track to some old school sitcom drifting through the walls courtesy of one of his neighbors. Every couple of minutes his bedsheets would rustle when he pulled you closer to him only serving to further ignite that burning fire in the pit of your stomach. Tilting your head up you pressed your lips against his in a whisper of a kiss.

"Sorry I woke you." And you were. It hadn't been your intention. 

Keeping your lips close to his your eyes fluttered shut at the way your warm breath mixed with his. Lifting your hand up your fingertips gently danced over his beard before you slid your hand to the back of his neck your nails skimming down his tanned skin.

"You can go back to sleep you don't have to stay up because of me," you offered, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth in a lingering kiss.

"'S okay," he murmured. "I don't mind staying up." 

Tilting his head down he returned the action pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth. It wasn't enough, you wanted, no, you needed more and when you whined and he only chuckled you took the opportunity to press your lips to his.

 The kiss was slow, but sexy each of you taking your time. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip begging for entrance granting it to him you both moaned when his tongue slowly entered your mouth taking his time to explore. Breaking the kiss he caught your lower lip between his sucking it gently between his own before releasing it with a quiet pop. Brushing his nose against yours he let out a content sigh smiling when the sounds of your uneven breaths filled the room.

"Are you sure you don't mind staying up?" You whispered. It was a silly question. His kiss assured you as much and the hardness pressing against you let you know that neither of you were going to be lulled into sleep anytime.

"Tell me what you want, honey," he coaxed, his lips skimming across your cheek and you want to kiss him again, want to jump him, want to cry with happiness with the way he's so in tune with you. You chalk it up to the long length of your friendship, but as his words drift through your sleepless mind all you can think about is the way he used those same words earlier in the day. The way he had begged you to tell him what you wanted. The way he had sunk his teeth into your neck. The memories have heat flooding to your core and you wonder in the darkness if he can tell how aroused you are right now. If he knows how much you need him. 

The laugh track from his neighbors television drifts through the walls again buying you some time as you struggle to gather your thoughts. His lips are still working their way across your cheek down your jaw behind your ear across your forehead. When all of this is over when you guys go back to being just friends you know you're going to miss his kisses the most. Melting into his touch and letting out a content sigh you know it's only a matter of time until he asks his question again and deep down you know if you don't tell him now you'll lose your nerve.

"Bucky?" Your voice is soft in the dark, a little shaky, a little shy despite everything you guys have been through and you take a deep breath sucking in all the courage you can muster. "Do you wanna have sex?"

His lips still against your skin and your mind jumps to the worst conclusion. "You wanna have sex now?" He asked.

"Yeah I mean... neither of us can sleep. And I'm ready, Bucky," you started, hating the way your voice still shook with nerves. "Unless you don't want to or you changed your mind." Your words are rushed and the heavy silence that greets you does little to put you at ease.

When he does finally speak his voice is low and sets the fire he ignited in you earlier burning into a raging inferno.

"You have no idea how much I want to, Y/N." 

When his lips move overs yours you're taken aback by the passion in the kiss. Gone are your earlier sweet and sleepy kisses and in their place are kisses full of tongue and moans from each of you. His tongue explores expertly inside your mouth and as you continue to skim your nails up and down the back of his neck his hands grip your waist pulling you closer to him. 

You're not sure either of you can get any closer, but that doesn't stop you from trying. His legs are warm as they tangle with yours, his teeth sharp as they nip at your lower lip, his hands callused as they skim underneath your shirt caressing your back. And though it feels good it's not where you want or need his hands right now.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss your breathing is uneven in the darkness of his room, but that doesn't stop him from pressing another kiss to your lips. Giggling against him you slide your hand from the back of his neck to his chest gently pushing him back as you break the kiss again. "You have protection, right?" 

"Course," he murmured, stealing another kiss before untangling himself from you and rolling over. Flipping his bedside light on you squint at the sudden brightness that floods his room, but once your eyes adjust they go straight to the unmistakable bulge in his boxers. 

Chewing on your lower lip you lift your eyes to watch as he roots around in his drawer. Pulling out a foil packet he tosses it on his table. His normally ocean colored eyes are as dark as the night sky when he swings his gaze back to you and the intensity that lingers has your underwear growing slicker.

"If you change your mind or you wanna stop you gotta tell me, honey," he said softly, laying back down next to you.

It doesn't take long for your limbs to become a tangled mess again as his hands move to your hips pulling you flush against him. Your own hand rests on his shoulder before sliding around to the back of his neck your fingers toying with the silky dark hair. "Promise? 'M serious, Y/N."

"I promise, Bucky."

Satisfied with your answer he leans forward closing the small gap of space between your lips. The kiss is soft hesitant almost which surprises you given how passionate your last kiss had been. You're not complaining though you'd take anything he wants to give you and it's not long before his tongue is swiping at your lip not long before you're parting your lips granting him access. Melting into his touch both of you groan when he deepens the kiss and when you press yourself against him the moan that he emits has you tugging on his hair as you eagerly search out more.

Never breaking the kiss Bucky gently rolls you onto your back as he settles himself between your parted thighs. 

Slipping his hands under your shirt he caresses the soft skin of your stomach. His touches are light loving even and despite the obvious arousal each of you are experiencing he’s in no hurry to rush this. A fact that’s made more obvious when he breaks the kiss. Resting his forehead against yours your warm breath mingles as his fingers still caress your stomach and you’re left wondering how he’s so composed right now when all you can think about is ripping his clothes off.

Your eyes open and are met with Bucky’s own. The lust is evident, but still he’s not making a move to touch you or to kiss you and the lack of contact is driving you insane.

“Bucky, please,” you murmured breathlessly. 

His fingers inch a little higher, but it’s still not close enough to where you need him. Arching your back he kisses you softly swallowing your pathetic whines. Brushing his fingertips on the underside of your breast you gasp into the kiss your fingers curling in his hair and tugging roughly as you silently urge him for more. Bucky chuckled against your lips and you want to groan in frustration want to call him a tease but any coherent thought slips from your mind when his thumb brushes across your nipple. It’s still not enough, but it’s better and when he pulls back from the kiss you pout.

“Please,” you tried again, not caring how needy you sound.

“Baby,” he croaked, his voice low and muffled against your lips and you can feel heat pooling between your thighs. He’s barely touched you and you’re already a mess. “You gotta tell me what you want. Just tell me.” 

Unlike earlier in the day you’ve learned your lesson, learned that if you tell him he can make you feel so fuckin’ good and he did and he does.

“Touch me.” It’s only two words, but there’s an unspoken weight behind them. Your lips are inches apart your warm breaths mixing and mingling together and it’s so intimate and it’s so hot and when his large and callused hand envelopes your breast and gently massages you’re only slightly embarrassed at the strangled moan that slips through your swollen lips. 

His lips brush over yours in a whisper of a kiss and once again it’s still not enough, but it’s better and when his tongue swipes across your bottom lip and his hand massages your breast with a hint of more pressure you find yourself melting into his touch, into his bedsheets, into his body. 

“Touch you like this?” He murmured, words laced with a teasing that any other time would have you cracking a smile, but right now only have you whining in his embrace. 

Unable to talk you tilt your head back granting Bucky the opportunity to press an open mouthed kiss to your neck. Shivering you can practically feel him smiling against your neck as he presses another kiss to your heated skin. His hand moves to your neglected breast, his thumb circling over your nipple once, twice before massaging gently. 

The breathy little moans that escape you have his cock twitching in his boxers and when he rocks his hips into yours it’s unintentional at first until he hears you gasping for more. “Yeah? Keep touching you like this, honey?”

You don’t understand how he’s able to talk let alone speak in full sentences when your head is so full of lust all you’re able to do is whine and moan and gasp. His words leave you aching and when he presses his hips into yours again with more pressure you swear you’re going to combust. 

And when his fingers pinch your nipple earning him a surprised squeak from you you know that he needs an answer and fearful he’ll stop you struggle to form even one word. Nodding your head instead you hope it’s enough, but when you feel his hand slipping from your breast and trailing down your stomach you whine in disappointment. 

Lifting your shirt up to reveal a sliver of your stomach he chases the exposed skin with a kiss. His lips are warm, his beard scratchy against your skin, but it feels so good.

Tugging on his hair you whine your back arching as you struggle to find the words to verbally answer him. He pushes your shirt up higher,his lips chasing after it. Taking his time he kisses every inch of your stomach and you swear by the time he’s done your skin will be rubbed raw from his beard, but you don’t care when he pushes your shirt up to your neck his lips wrapping around your hardened nipple he sucks greedily. 

“Oh god, Bucky,” you moaned. 

Threading your fingers through his hair you cradled his head to your breast. Hissing when his teeth graze across your nipple he’s right there swirling his tongue and peppering kisses to ease the slight stinging.

Releasing your nipple with a quiet pop he kisses his way to your other breast giving it the same treatment. Swirling his tongue around your hardened nub he slips his hand up to cup your cheek the action is sweet a stark contrast to the dirty things he’s doing with his tongue and mouth. And when he pulls his lips away he’s as breathless as you are, but that doesn’t stop him from kissing you sweetly. 

“Can I take this off?” 

“Please,” you gasped.

“That the only thing you can say?” He teased. Helping you sit up he discards your shirt tossing it to his floor.

“Stop it,” you giggled. 

“Look at that you can say other words.”

Laying back down you pulled him with you your giggles filling his room as the bright smile on his face makes your heart flutter. 

It’s moments like these when your bodies are tangled, when jokes are exchanged, when laugher is shared that you marvel at how easy it is for the two of you to slip from something more to best friends and back again. 

It’s moments like these that have you convinced after tonight nothing is going to change in your relationship because how could it when you guys have managed to navigate everything so well? 

It’s moments like these that you want to smugly tell Natasha and Steve and even Bucky that their worries over one of you getting hurt were unfounded.

And it’s moments like these that you marvel at how handsome he looks with his tanned skin and his mussed hair and his bright smile and the crinkles around his eyes whenever he laughs at something you say.

The fire he had lit inside of you dimmed for a brief moment when you guys drifted back to being friends, but laying underneath him staring up at him feeling his hand cupping your cheek again has the fire burning with a renewed heat.

“You can take my shorts off too.” And with those seven words you’ve shifted back to something more. He doesn’t ask if you’re sure and you wonder if he can see the desire burning in your eyes. You think he must when he keeps his gaze steady on yours, when he lets his fingers trail so lightly down your neck, down your chest, down your stomach to the waistband of your shorts. His eyes never waver from yours not even when you arch your hips so he can pull them down your legs. In what feels like an hour but couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds your shorts land on his floor with your shirt.

Leaning down he cups your cheek again, his lips barely touching yours as he asked softly, “This okay?”

“More than okay,” you assured him. “But you don’t have to keep asking. I’ll tell you if it’s not.”

“I want to,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours. “I know you think this isn’t a big deal, but you still deserve to have your first time be with someone who’s gonna treat you right and who’s gonna take care of you. The last thing I wanna do is hurt you or for you to have any regrets. So let me keep asking, yeah?”

"Okay," you agreed softly. 

His words replayed in your mind like a broken record causing your heart to flutter and your stomach to flip. You were growing impatient with the slow pace, but a part of you wanted to slow this down even more to stretch out each moment until it’s burned in your memory like a favorite lyric or quote able to pull out on a rainy day to find comfort in.

He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to. The tenderness in his eyes, the careful way he's cupping your cheek as if he's afraid he'll hurt you, the loving way he smiles down at you. And when he kisses you it's so soft, so gentle that for a second it takes you a moment to realize his lips are finally touching yours. It's a kiss that reminds you of the end of a first date in its hesitancy and sweetness and its briefness. Stroking his fingertips up and down your side he kisses you again and unlike the previous kiss this one is a little more sure, a little longer, a little deeper. It's a kiss that reminds you of a promise of more to come. A promise you can't wait to unwrap.

Grasping his wrist you slowly guide his hand down to the waistband of your underwear. "Keep going," you urged in between kisses. "I'm sure."

Instead of making a move to slip your underwear off he slips his tongue past your lips causing each of you to moan. And when his fingers wrap around the waistband of your underwear and he tugs gently you break the kiss your breathing a little uneven both from the kiss and the nerves that are flowing through your veins. 

"Just... don't stare," you whispered, your voice shaky.

"I won't, sweetheart." Kissing your forehead he keeps his eyes locked on you. An arch of your hips, fabric sliding down your legs and the garment is discarded on the floor with the rest of your clothes. It takes all his self control to keep his word. “This still okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you whispered, your eyes searching his and the utter gentleness reflected back has your body relaxing with each shaky breath. 

Sensing your uncomfortableness his fingertips stroke your side and when he sees your lips curl into a small smile, sees your eyes flutter shut, sees the way your body melts into his touch it’s then and only then that he breaks his word.

His eyes slowly leave yours to trail down to your swollen lips, to the dark bruises littered on your neck and breasts, down to your stomach, down to your parted thighs spread out so beautifully for him glistening and ready. His eyes trail lower down to your legs, your calfs, your ankles before slowly making a descent back up. Pink tinges his cheeks when he sees your eyes boring into his and he feels like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“You said you weren’t going to stare,” you mumbled, your teeth gnawing on your lip. Blindly reaching for a blanket to cover yourself with you stop when you feel his lips on yours in a searing kiss.

“I know,” he cooed in between kisses. “But you said you weren’t going to bite your lip so it’s only fair.”

“I never said that and that’s not even a fair trade!”

Giggling you swat his shoulder and you want to thank him for always being able to make you laugh, for always being able to get you to relax, for being the perfect best friend, but the words get caught in the back of your throat when he speaks again.

“Dunno how you expected me not to stare. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N.” 

You could count on one hand the number of times he had called you beautiful. 

The first time you had been sixteen and you were about to go on your first date. Granted it had been a group date that included both Bucky and Steve and their girlfriends at the time, but you had been a nervous wreck gnawing on your lip, tugging on the hem of your dress, puttering with your hair. When Bucky had seen you he had told you you looked beautiful and you hadn't given it much thought because a moment later Steve had told you that you looked nice and when your date had seen you he had also complimented you. Bucky had only been trying to ease your nerves.

The second time you had been seventeen and Bucky had asked you to his prom. His girlfriend at the time had dumped him the weekend before the dance and when he had asked you had been surprised, but had quickly agreed. Scrambling to find a dress on such short notice you swore you had hit every thrift store and boutique in the city. The day before the dance you had lucked out on a beautiful bright blue floor length gown that matched Bucky's eyes. It felt like fate and even though the dress had been a little out of your price range you splurged feeling only a little foolish for spending so much on a dress you'd probably only wear once.

When he had picked you up the night of his prom wearing a black tuxedo looking so handsome he had taken one look at you whistling under his breath and telling you you looked beautiful and you hadn't given it much thought because you had told him only minutes before he looked handsome. Prom had been disappointing. Still heartbroken over his ex girlfriend you guys had stayed for an hour before you dragged him out telling him you had a better idea. 

The rest of the night had been spent running around the city stopping at every twenty four hour diner and cafe you could find in an attempt to find the best piece of dessert. Spending all night out he had dropped you back off at your mom’s place early in the morning. The bottom of your dress stained from dirt and his suit jacket draped over your shoulders you had never felt happier. Hyped up on coffee and too many sugary desserts he had kissed your cheek thanking you for the best night of his night.

His words send your heart spiraling, but like the first two times he had called you beautiful you don't believe him. 

"You're only saying that because you're about to have sex," you teased quietly. The flash of hurt that flits across his eyes happens so quickly you're convinced you made it up.

“‘M not,” he said firmly and the sincerity in his voice has you wanting to believe him, but deep down you know this is nothing more than sex between friends. But when he kisses you it’s long and it’s passionate and you swear you can feel the kiss in your toes, swear you can feel the sincerity in his words seeping into your lips, seeping into your soul. And when he breaks the kiss you swear you’re just a little closer to believing his words. 

It’s a thin line between friends and something more. A line that only grows thinner when you pull him back down to kiss him hungrily. Gone are the earlier teasing words, the shyness, the vulnerability of being laid bare and in their place is a renewed sense of passion, of urgency that wasn’t there when you had woken him up. 

Heavy breaths fill his room. The earlier light touches turn a little rougher his fingers move with more purpose down your side caressing your hip as he peppers your jaw with rough kisses and nips. Your head tilts your fingers rake through his hair your back arches and when he presses his mouth to the shell of your ear to speak all you’re able to do is claw your nails down his neck and whine pathetically.

“I know you don’t believe me, honey, but you have no idea how beautiful you are. No idea how much I need you right now.” His teeth nip at your earlobe before he continues. “Let me touch you. Let me make you feel good like earlier.” 

“Oh,” you whimpered. You never knew that hearing someone say they needed you could sound so alluring, never knew how hearing those few words could make you grow so slick. Your legs part on their own and though you’re still a little apprehensive about being so on display for him the desire flooding through you outweighs it. 

His fingers dance along the insides of your thighs and you can’t determine if he’s teasing you or waiting for you to verbally tell him it’s okay. If it’s the latter you’re both going to be waiting because when he lifts his head from your neck to look at you the fire burning in his eyes takes your breath away. You’ve never had anyone look at you the way he is, never had anyone look at like they’re ready to devour you, never had anyone look at you like the only thing they want to do is spend the rest of the night worshipping your body.

“Please.” Your voice cracks. It doesn’t matter that he got you off twice earlier in the day. Your body is on fire your walls clenching around nothing your heart pounding your thighs parting just a little further in a silent plea for him to end your misery. 

He’s teasing you. It’s the conclusion you come to when he keeps his gaze locked tightly on yours as his fingers dip lower. His thumb brushes your clit and the moan that you let out has his him groaning as he tries to ignore the uncomfortable tightening in his boxers. 

Licking his lower lip he allows his eyes to drag down your body again. Unashamed in his staring he circles your clit another time enjoying the way your body squirms underneath his, enjoying your little pants and shaky breaths. With two fingers he spreads your slickness around his thoughts filled with wondering what you taste like wondering what you’re going to feel like clenched around his hardness. With his fingers coated in your slickness he slowly oh so slowly parts your lips and slips a finger past your tight folds. 

It’s a tie on who’s moan is louder and if you weren’t so needy right now you would have found the situation humorous. Your hands are all over him tugging on his hair raking down his neck down his back clawing at his biceps when he begins to move his finger in too slow strokes. His eyes are still on yours scrutinizing every facial expression you make in an attempt to discern what you like the most. 

Eyes flutter shut, heavy breaths spill from kiss stained lips, nails dig crescent moons into biceps when a second finger enters you. And much like earlier there’s a second of uncomfortableness, but the feeling ebbs when his thumb circles your clit when his husky voice reaches your ear begging you to keep your eyes open and on him.

You want to do as he asks, oh, how you want to, but it’s so hard to do anything except whither and whine underneath him when his fingers gently stroke your walls when his thumb flicks at your clit. 

Every touch is tantalizing, every touch makes that fire burn brighter and hotter and when you begin to feel it’s about to consume you from the inside out to leave you scarred it stops. Your eyes fly open, a pathetic plea stuck on your tongue, but as soon your panic stricken eyes meet his he picks up where he left off.

“Keep your eyes on me, honey,” he commanded. “Just like that wanna see you.”

His words are dirty and sweet and his eyes are filled with love and lust and his fingers are slick and deep and you never knew it could feel like this. 

Sweat trickles down the back of your neck dampening his pillow and when you call his name and arch your back in need you can feel sweat dripping down your hairline. It’s not attractive, but you find you don’t care when his hand cups your breast his fingers toying with your nipple and you’re done trying to keep your eyes on his. 

The pleasure is too good, too much and he doesn’t seem to mind your eyes shutting when he removes his hand his mouth dipping down to wrap his slick lips around your hardened nub. 

“Oh, oh god, Bucky, please,” you moaned, the words tumbling from your lips you’re half convinced in your current state of euphoria it’s all gibberish. But his fingers pick up the pace, a squelching sound filling his room mixing with your heavy breaths your cries of pleasure. Arching your back his teeth tug on your nipple earning him a harsh tug to his hair. 

It’s too much and not enough.

Lifting your hips up to grind on his fingers he growls the sound deep and attractive and you wonder what you have to do to get him to make it again.

“Bucky, please. I-I need-,” you gasped.

Pulling his lips away from your nipple with a quiet pop he leaves a trail of spit dangling from his lips and when you open your glazed over eyes the sight makes you moan.

His lips are on yours in a second the kiss is messy bordering on rough with tongues battling and teeth clashing, but it’s hot and it’s exactly what you need when he curls his fingers inside of you.

“Tell me what you need, Y/N,” he growled against your lips his teeth nipping at the flesh. 

When you don’t answer right away he slips his fingers out of you and you want to cry in frustration, but he’s right there his voice cooing his lips peppering your heated cheeks with kisses that are meant to calm, but do the opposite.

And when he sees how distressed you are he slowly, oh so slowly slips his middle finger past your dripping folds. A second finger follows when he feels your nails digging further into his biceps when he sees your head nod quickly yes your lips searching his out he knows that as much as he enjoys teasing you he enjoys this so much more.

“You! I need you, Bucky,” you begged. 

It didn’t seem possible, but his eyes grow darker his fingers quicken his breathing intensifies and the tightening of his boxers grows more painful. His head drops to the crook of your neck a muttered fuck escapes before he kisses your heated skin.

“Baby,” he croaked. “Let me take my time with you.” 

His fingers slip out of you again to spread your slickness around further and when he adds a third finger he’s slow, careful, his eyes scrutinizing your face watching the way you tense up for a moment. He’s quick to press his lips to yours coaxing you to relax, murmuring that he’s got you and when he hears you exhale, feels your nails loosen on his biceps he slowly, oh so slowly drags his fingers out before pushing them back, stroking your walls, searching for that one spot he remembers from earlier that made you see stars.

“I wanna make this good for you,” he cooed.

“It is s-so good,” you praised, your teeth pulling at your lip in an attempt to reign in your moans. 

Loosening your hold on his biceps you snake your hand between your bodies. Palming him through his boxers you whine at the hardness at the fullness that’s begging to be released and the low groan that he emits has you smiling, but before you have a chance to dip your hands past the waistband of his boxers to return some of the pleasure he’s giving you he’s gently grabbing your wrist and pinning your hand by your head.  

“So let me take care of you. I promise you’ll have all of me soon but you gotta be patient, baby can you do that?”

With wide eyes and a pretty pout on plump lips you push your wrist up against his hand eager to feel him in your palm, but he’s not letting up. And you want to whine, want to beg, but he’s curling his fingers inside of you and you swear you see stars behind closed eyes.

A kiss to your jaw. A warm breath floating against your ear. A low moan. A growl of your name. A quickening pace of his fingers. A gentle coax to let go. A quiet reminder that he just wants to make you feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart.

Your walls clench around his fingers and you’re so close you can almost taste your release on the tip of your tongue. Arching your back you grab the back of his neck guiding his lips to yours in a kiss that nearly devours him.

“Right there, god right there,” you panted. His fingers were so deep curling against that one spot that drove you insane as his thumb rubbed fast, tight circles against your clit matching the pace of his tongue as he effortlessly tangled it with your own. 

“Honey,” he cooed upon breaking the kiss. The normally sweet sounding word came out sounding sinful upon his lips and you’d do anything to hear him say it again. “Look at me, honey. Wanna see you when I make you cum. Wanna see how beautiful you’re gonna look.” 

“Oh,” you moaned. A final arch of your back, your eyes locked on his, his fingers intertwining with your hand that’s still pinned by your head, it’s all so intimate and sweet and loving and when he curls his fingers again you’re a goner. Your eyes slam shut, stars exploding in the blackness, your body tensing as your orgasm washes over you in a tidal wave you’re not sure will ever ebb. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you to climb back down, but you’re aware of the little things. The way he squeezes your hand, the loss of fingers inside of you, the way his lips ghost over your sweaty forehead.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” He whispered and you wonder how is voice can sound so nice when only a couple minutes ago he was murmuring such filthy things to you.

“I think so,” you murmured breathlessly.

“You think so?” He chuckled, his laughter sounding so wonderful to your ears that you join him.

“That was amazing.” It’s ridiculous after what just took place, but your voice is shy and when you open your eyes and glance up at him through your lashes the lust that’s dancing through his darkened eyes has your walls clenching again.

“Yeah? ‘M glad.”

It's silent for a couple of minutes save for your still heavy breathing and in that time you can't help the way your eyes drift down to his unmistakable bulge. You expected him to call you out on your staring, but he doesn't and when you finally tear your eyes away to meet his you're met with a carnal desire.

"Still wanna keep going?" He asked and though you know he's only checking in you want to shout yes, but you don't. You don't stay anything but nod your head and reach out with shaky hands to the hem of his boxers.

"Can I?" 

"Yeah," he breathed, his voice dropping an octave.

Biting your lip you keep your eyes locked on his though all you want to do is watch each new exposed sliver of skin as you slowly, oh so slowly pull his boxers down. He lets out a hiss when the material brushes over his hardened length and it's then and only then that you tear your eyes away from his and glance down. 

He's thick, bigger than you're used to. His tip is red, throbbing and leaking precum and you want to dip your head down and wrap your lips around him tasting everything he has to offer. With his boxers pulled down to his thighs you hesitantly reach your hand out to give him a gentle stroke. 

The moan that escapes from his mouth is loud and you swear it's the most attractive thing you've ever heard. Running your thumb over his leaking tip you smear his precum before stroking him again. Your pace is slow, hesitant as you focus on his labored breathing. Each stroke brings another moan tumbling from him that's louder than the last, each stroke brings you a little more confidence. 

All too soon though he's grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand off of him. A groan from him at the loss of contact, a whine from you at not being able to bring him the same kind of pleasure he had been gifting you with.

"Y/N," he groaned, pulling his boxers down the rest of his tanned legs before tossing them to the floor. "Tonight's supposed to be about you and if you keep that up this will be over before we even start." 

Leaning down he kisses the side of your head before reaching over to his bedside table. Tearing open the condom wrapper he rolls it down his length and you find it impossible to take your eyes off of him. A fact that doesn't go unnoticed.

"You're staring," he teased, shooting you a playful smirk.

"You're one to talk," you shot back. "You spent how long staring at me? I think it's a fair trade." 

"That's different." 

"How?"

"Told you," he murmured, repositioning himself between your parted legs. "You're beautiful."

He says it so easily. Says it like he's saying the sky is blue or his favorite dessert is chocolate cake. 

But that doesn't stop your heart from speeding up, doesn't stop the warmth that seeps into your cheeks, doesn't stop your mind from replaying his words over and over again. You still don't believe him, but it's a nice thing to hear. His fingertips brush over your cheek in a loving gesture and you can feel yourself melting into his touch. 

You're nervous, more nervous than you thought you would be and you wonder if he can tell. You think he must when he gently, oh so gently reaches down for you hand to intertwine your fingers before pinning it by your head. The action is sweet and in your current position it feels intimate, more intimate than it should for two best friends, but it's also comforting and when he squeezes your hand gently it brings you back to the present. 

"So are you," you blurted out and staring up at him you realize how true it is. 

Bucky Barnes is beautiful. You never realized just how beautiful he was. Sure, you had always known that he was cute, he always had girls flirting with him, falling over him, crushing on him, but it's not just his looks that make him beautiful. It's his huge heart, the way he's always able to get you to laugh, the way he's never judged you, the way he's always been there for you in the good times and the bad. You've always considered yourself fortunate to be able to call him your best friend. But right now with your fingers laced together, with him settled between your parted thighs as if it's where he always belonged you're so unbelievably grateful that he's going to be your first. Biting down hard on your lower lip to keep your emotional tears at bay you're thankful, so thankful when he speaks and he's able to coax a much needed laugh from your nervous body.

"Think you mean handsome."

Cupping his cheek you giggle. "No I definitely mean beautiful." Your voice is hushed and when he grasps your hand bringing it up to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your palm you swear the line between friends and something more disappears. Intertwining your fingers he pins your hand by your head. 

It's quiet in his room. The laugh track that had been drifting through his walls throughout most of the night is silent and you wonder what time it is. You wonder what Bucky is thinking as he stares down at you, wonder if he's as nervous as you are. 

"I'm ready, Bucky," you whispered and you're surprised when your voice only shakes a little. 

Taking a minute to search your eyes he brushes his lips lightly across yours in a kiss that sends your heart racing. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me if I hurt you." It's not so much a statement, but a question and even without seeing his eyes you can hear the tinge of pain that laces his words at the thought of ever hurting you. You want to tell him that he's not going to, but you both know that would be a lie. You fully expect there to be pain, but you try not to focus on that. Instead you focus on the way his hands feel holding yours, focus on the way he kisses you again, focus on the way his lips are warm and slightly chapped, focus on the way he tastes like mint, focus on the way his body feels tangled with your own. 

And when he pulls his lips away from yours you focus on the way he stares so deeply into your eyes, focus on the way you can faintly see his lips curling up into a smile as the two of you embark on this new chapter and when he slowly, oh so slowly pushes into you you focus on the way his callused hands are keeping you anchored. You focus on the way he moans, so deep and low, focus on the way he's staring at you. Focus on anything other than the burning of him stretching you.

Squeezing his hands you tilt your head to the side clenching your eyes. It's so hard to focus on anything other than the pain. You had seen and felt how thick he had been, had seen how large and though you had heard stories about the slight pain you hadn't expected it to hurt this much.

His name falls from your lips in a whimper, but like earlier he's right there peppering your skin with kisses meant to soothe, cooing words of encouragement as he continues to push slowly in. You're not sure he's ever going to be done and though you try to remember Natasha's advice of relaxing, of taking deep breaths it's so hard when you swear to god you can feel the burning through your whole body.

"Do you want me to stop?" His voice is gravelly and though he doesn't want to be getting pleasure when you're in distress he can't help the shaky groan that escapes when he feels how tight you are.

"No," you mumbled through gritted teeth. 

A quick nod of his head, another groan and he's kissing you so sweetly in an attempt to get your mind off the pain that you're worried you're about to cry over how perfect he's being. Bottoming out he has to remind himself that this is about you and not him, but it's difficult when all he can think about is pulling out and thrusting back in until you're screaming his name in pleasure. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just... I need a minute." 

His lips never leave your face and as his beard rubs against your chin, your jaw, your cheeks you can't help wondering what's going to hurt more when all of this is done; the burning between your legs or the burn from his beard. 

"I promise it's gonna feel better soon, honey. Gonna make you feel so good, Y/N," he cooed, kissing his way down your neck.

"You can move," you whispered before adding, "I'm sure."

He continues to kiss his way down your neck before dragging his lips across your jaw giving you an extra minute to adjust. Barely pulling his hips back he pushes back in keeping his thrusts slow and shallow doing anything he could to make this good for you.

"Still okay?" He mumbled, searching your lips out in a slow drawn out kiss. 

It still hurt, still burned, but there were tinges of pleasure peaking through with each movement of his hips. Moaning into the kiss you longed to run your fingers through his hair, run your nails down his back, wrap your arm around his shoulder to pull him closer to you. You were addicted to him, to his touch, to his kisses, to the slow drag of his length against your wet heat. 

"Keep going," you urged desperately.

Nipping at your bottom lip Bucky let out a long drawn out moan sending heat straight to your core. Arching your back you pushed your hands up against his when he pulled his hips back all the way before pushing back in. His pace was still slow, still a little hesitant for fear of hurting you, but his thrusts were becoming longer leading your breathing to become a little more labored as each thrust brought more pleasure and lessened pain.

"Y/N," he panted, against the shell of your ear. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. So good. Fuck."

His words spurred you on and when you hesitantly lifted your hips up to meet his thrusts you worried you had done something wrong when he quickly untangled his hand from yours. Gripping your hip so tightly you knew you'd have bruises come morning he helped to guide your movements sending waves of pleasure shooting through you. 

Tilting your head back you whimpered when you heard the animalistic growl that flowed from his lips. With one hand free you wrapped your arm around his shoulder pulling him down closer to you. Pressing your mouth to the shell of his ear you let him know just how good he was making you feel with each whimper and cry that oozed from your lips.

“Yeah, just like this, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his hand never leaving your hip. “That feel better?”

It did, it really, really did, but the words wouldn’t come out. Opening your mouth to speak all that came was a strangled moan and when it mixed with Bucky’s own it sounded so beautiful.

Your nails dug into his shoulder when he rocked his hips into yours a little quicker, your breathing picked up and though you still felt the burning when he moved too quick or thrust too hard the pleasure was far outweighing the pain.

“Oh... oh god I feel so full,” you panted, your hold loosening on his shoulder as you threaded your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

Guiding his lips down to yours you kissed him quickly as the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout his bedroom further spurring you on. And when his hips rocked into yours again with a little more force knocking his headboard against the wall and making the bed squeak below your sweaty bodies all you could do was giggle against his lips, squeeze his hand and urge him to keep going.

Lips part, tongues dance in a complicated pattern, hips lift upwards, hips drag downwards searching for spots that bring falling stars to the blackness behind closed eyes, backs arch, gasps and moans and growls mix and mingle in a beautiful love song only meant for two people.

Sweat trickles down writhing bodies to stain bedsheets, limbs become tangled together as one making it difficult to know where one person begins and another ends. It’s messy and hot and carnal and it’s a mess of lust and love and confusion, but it feels so good.

Heavy breaths mix with needy pants silently begging to keep going, to not stop, to never stop mingle with the urgent begging of just wanna make you feel good, to not gonna last much longer, to  the silently whispered I love you told through kisses and touches in a langue only one understands. 

Releasing his grip on your hip Bucky slips his fingers between your connected bodies as his thumb searches out your clit. Circling over the sensitive nub with slow lazy circles he watches with half lidded eyes the way your head tilts to the side, lips parted, your breathing coming out in heavy pants. He watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust of his hips, watches the way your nipples come to perfect points just begging to be kissed. 

He feels the way your fingers alternate between tugging and threading through his hair. Feels the way you continue to lift your hips up just like he showed you. And he’s overcome with the need to slow this down to remove his thumb from your clit, to slow his thrusts until he’s barely moving inside of you so he can stretch this out for a few more minutes to remember every single detail of this moment. 

But when he feels your walls clenching, when he watches the way your pearly teeth tug on your swollen lip, when he sees you glancing up at him with wide innocent eyes that are so glazed over with lust and when he hears you calling his name out softly at first before becoming more urgent he realizes that this moment isn’t about him, it’s about you and your first time being good. 

“Tell me what you need, honey,” he groaned. “Cause ‘m not gonna last much longer.” He’s not embarrassed to admit it. In fact he’s surprised he’s lasted this long.

“You, Bucky, I need you,” you gasped.

Rolling your clit between his thumb and his forefinger he listens to the sounds of your moans increase, feels your walls clenching around him again and he knows it’s not going to take much more to push you over the edge.

“That all?” He teased before moaning. “You already have me, Y/N, you know that.” 

There’s a seriousness that belies his tone, but it’s lost on you when he manages to brush against that one spot that makes you see stars. Tugging on his hair you try to tell him again, but when you open your mouth the only sound that comes out is that of an obscene moan, one that’s so loud it manages to drown out the sound of his squeaking bed and slamming headboard.

Burying his head in your neck his breath his warm, his fingers quick as they circle your clit, his thrusts a little slower, but they’re deeper and they manage to hit spots inside of you you weren’t even aware of.

It’s too much. Everything is too much. And when he nips at your neck it’s enough to push you over the edge. 

“Oh, oh, Bucky!” You cried out, your fingers tugging so hard on his hair you’re worried you’re hurting him, but it’s the least of your concerns when your orgasm washes over you. It’s strong, stronger than the previous three he had given you and as your back makes contact with his bed again you swear to god you’re never going to be able to see straight again or breath normally.

Loosening your hold on his hair you whine as his fingers continue to toy with your clit and you want to shove his hand away because it’s too much. You’re too sensitive, but you find you’re unable to when you hear him mumbling that he’s going to cum. His thrusts become more erratic, more sloppy and you want to do something to help him bring him to his own release, but you find yourself unable to do anything as you’re still coming down.

A mumbled fuck, a final thrust, his body stiffening before collapsing in exhaustion and though he tries to keep his weight off of you he needs a minute to collect his senses. 

His room is still save for your heavy breaths. You want to ask him if he’s okay, but you find it impossible to do when his lips are on yours. The kiss is so soft, so sweet that once again you have to blink back the emotional tears that are threatening to spill. And when he lifts himself up, when he slowly, oh so slowly pulls out of you and notices the way you hiss, the way your body tenses he’s right there brushing back your sweaty hair and peppering your face with kisses.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you too much did I?” 

“I’m okay,” you murmured, reaching for his blanket to cover yourself. It’s silly given what just took place, but now that it’s over with, now that you guys are moving back to being friends you feel too exposed being naked. You’re not sure how to handle this. Are you guys supposed to talk about it? Pretend it didn’t happen? Continue making out? 

Nobody had prepared you for this and you feel a myriad of emotions wash over you. Whenever anyone talked about their first time all they talked about was the pain, how it was awkward, if it was good or bad, if they had been treated well or not, if they regretted it or not. Nobody ever talked about the emotions that came afterward. 

You didn’t regret it. You were glad that Bucky was your first and you knew you couldn’t have asked for someone to treat you better, but it was still overwhelming and confusing and you didn’t know how to talk about this with him.

With his back turned as he disposed of the condom you quickly swiped away your tears. Securing the blanket around yourself you got up from his bed and reached down for your clothes. Your hands shook, your legs felt like jello and you could already feel an uncomfortable throbbing forming between your legs. 

“Are you okay?” You asked and you hated the way your voice shook and all you could do was pray he wouldn’t notice.

When he turned around you missed the brief frown that formed on his face when he saw you standing by his bed.

“‘M okay. You know you don’t have to get dressed right away I don’t mind if you wanna sleep naked.”

“Bucky!” 

“What?” He asked, laughing his features relaxing when he saw the smile that curled your lips up.

“I’m um gonna go get cleaned up.” You don’t give him a chance to speak before you clutch the blanket tighter to your exhausted body and head for his bathroom.

With the bathroom door closed you drop the blanket and your clothes onto a pile on his floor. Inspecting yourself in the mirror you take in your swollen and red lips, your messy and matted hair, the hickes that adorn your neck trailing down to your chest and breasts. Physically you don’t look different, but you feel different. 

Your opinion on the matter of sex hasn’t changed. It’s still just sex to you, it’s not a big deal, but you can’t deny the little nagging feeling in the back of your mind trying to tell you otherwise. Sighing you go to the bathroom, wash your hands, splash some cold water on your face to try and hide the fact of your few fallen tears and get dressed in his tee shirt and a pair of underwear. 

Entering his room you hover in his doorway surprised to see him sitting up in bed with the light still on. You don’t know why you feel so shy all of a sudden, but as you shift your weight from foot to foot you smile when he catches you. Patting the spot on the bed next to him and murmuring a quiet c’mere your feet move on their own.

Dropping the blanket on the end of his bed you climb in next to him, but you make sure to keep a bit of space between you two.

“I thought you would have been sleeping by now,” you whispered. It somehow feels wrong to talk too loud in his room and he must feel it too because as he reaches over to shut his light off his reply is quiet.

“Wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

His words linger in the air between the two of you and you think about asking him if he wants to play honesty, but you don’t deciding it’s best to just rip the bandaid off and tell him.

“I’m okay. I just... I don’t regret what we did, but I don’t know I guess I didn’t think it was going to be so... emotional either you know? It was overwhelming in a good way, Bucky I promise. I guess I’m just struggling to process everything.”

In the darkness his hand searches for yours and though it takes a couple minutes of sheets rustling and limbs fumbling and giggles spilling he finds it. Intertwining your fingers again he gives your hand a gentle squeeze in the dark and though it doesn’t fix the emotions swirling through you it does help to calm your racing thoughts and anchor you.

“That’s normal,” he murmured, his voice so soothing you swear it could put you to sleep. “It was a big step for you. We did a lot of stuff the past twenty four hours and I’d be worried if you weren’t a little overwhelmed, sweetheart. Do you wanna talk about it?”

The correct answer was yes you knew that. You guys needed to talk to figure out where you went from here, but you were exhausted and you knew he was too. 

“Not right now.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

One minute, two minutes, three minutes pass and by the gentle way Bucky’s breathing can be heard next to you you worry he’s fallen asleep before you can ask one final thing.

“Bucky?”

“Mmf yeah?”

“Can you... can you just hold me? Please?” You hate how needy you sound, but all you want is to be wrapped up in his arms, to feel safe, to know that everything is going to be okay.

“You really gotta ask? C’mere, honey.”

Even though it’s dark in his room and you can’t see him very well you can picture him with his arms open and as you scoot over to close the distance sighing when he wraps his arms around your shoulders pulling you right to him. Resting your head on his chest you close your eyes listening to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.