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sylvie

for sylvie

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“Yes, an actual bed,” Bucky says with a genuine laugh of his own, spurred on by lovely sound of Sylvie’s own laughter. He finds himself wanting to make her laugh again and again.

They get dressed and the blanket disappears back from wherever it came, and the walk back to Bucky’s building is pleasant and calm, even if he does feel anticipation rising in his belly. Sometimes she makes him feel as if he’s on fire, her and Loki both. He hasn’t felt like this since he was just a dumb kid whose only concern was trying to figure out which girl at the dance hall might let him under her skirt.

Once they make it into the building and inside the elevator, Bucky hits the button for his floor and then stands next to her with his hands behind his back, trying not to touch her, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he wants to so much that he’s afraid that he won’t be able to stop once he does.

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"That's right," Sylvie says when she sees Bucky link his hands behind his back. "You're a gentleman. Dinner and dancing before anything else, if I recall."

And she does recall, nearly everything about that night. She remembers the dance, the way they'd spoken of it, a euphemism for sex, how she'd asked him if it was always so much work or if someone could just have a need, an itch to be scratched.

They hadn't made it as far as her bedroom that night. She finds, despite her teasing, she's actually sort of looking forward to changing that. Having time with Bucky in a bed where they're not concerned with space or having been seen or whether there's going to be sand wedged into crevices when they're through.

"That's right," Bucky echoes, cheeks flushing again as he smiles over at her, happy to be teased. "I suppose I owe you a dinner and a dance, then."

Maybe he's being unnecessarily old-fashioned, but he means it. He wants to take her out for a nice dinner, wants to treat her well, because so few have done so since she was a little girl and he wants to change that. Not just for her, but for himself, too.

When the elevator doors open, Bucky makes a show of offering her his elbow and escorting her out once she takes it. Anticipation rises as they near his front door, but he knows that first they'll have to deal with Bopp, who has been cooped up alone for hours. He shouldn't need to take her outside until morning, but he's still unsurprised when she is right there when he opens the door, staring up at them with her tail swishing vigorously.

"Hello there," Bucky says to her, reaching down to scratch her between the ears before retrieving a treat from the jar near the door and feeding it to her. "We have company, so act right, huh?"

"Watch your tone, she's better behaved than most men," Sylvie answers, turning her attention to the dog. Her words could be biting, taken the wrong way, but she hopes by now Bucky has grown used to her tendency to be a bit caustic, even when she doesn't necessarily mean it.

Dogs are easier, though. She's said it to him before and she believes he'll remember.

Rubbing Bopp's ears, Sylvie smiles down at the dog and says, "I know you're always well behaved. Don't listen to him, he just had sex on a public beach. That's an arrestable offence in Darrow."

"You're not wrong about that," Bucky says dryly, chuckling a little as he locks the door and empties his pockets onto the small table next to it. What she says next startles a laugh out of her and a pleased flush rises to his cheeks as he passes by her, pausing with the hand on her hip. "Careful, you'll scandalize her."

He wants to drag him into his bedroom and throw her down onto the bed he hardly uses, but she was right when she called him a gentleman. Or maybe that ship's long sailed, but he can still try to be polite. He grabs two bottles of water from the fridge and two protein bars from the cabinet because all that exercise in the water (and on the beach) has him starved.

"Quick refuel first?" Bucky asks with an almost sheepish smile, handing her one of each item before ripping into the protein bar. "This isn't the breakfast that I promised, by the way."

"Well, I should hope not," she replies, giving Bopp another enthusiastic scratch behind her ears before she straightens and takes the bottle of water from Bucky. The protein bar she thinks she can do without, but she takes it anyway, then leaves it sitting on the counter.

She might need it later, after all.

After she's opened the water and taken a long swallow, Sylvie looks at Bucky, a smile curving her lips, then she turns and walks toward his bedroom. The layout of all these apartments is more or less the same and she assumes she knows the way.

Bucky's metabolism makes him need to eat a lot, so as much as he'd like to throw the protein bar down and follow Sylvie immediately, he waits for her to turn away and then shoves pretty much the entire thing into his mouth and chews quickly, watching Sylvie's hips sway their way down the hallway like she's just trying to drive him crazy.

He chews fast enough that Bopp up at him with her ears perked in concern, and Bucky shakes his head a little as he reaches down to put his hand on her head.

"Stay," he says once he's swallowed, patting between her ears and draining the bottle of water before dropping it and the wrapper, uncharacteristically messy, and then following her down the hallway. She's just made it to the doorway of his bedroom when he catches up to her, arms wrapping around her from behind. He buries his face in her neck and inhales, sliding his good hand up under her shirt and then her bra, palming her breast as he pulls her hips back against him.

"You drive me crazy," he says against her ear, chuckling happily as he walks her into the bedroom, kissing under her ear. "Absolutely insane."

Another situation, another person, Sylvie would have them on the floor by now for daring to touch her this way, but the sudden presence of Bucky behind her, wrapped around her, it just makes heat stir inside her. She covers his hand with her own, holding it against her breast as she leans into him and lets herself be moved deeper into the room.

The last time, she'd demanded they go to her place, knowing it was safer. Even so, she's looked for the exits here, knows where to go if they have to get out, but she feels relatively safe now. Not safe enough to entirely turn off those tendencies she has that she's built up over her life, but still safe.

That says a lot.

"And here I was just walking down the hall," she answers, tilting her head for him. "How will you ever survive when I'm actually trying?"

A few days ago, maybe even a few hours ago, Bucky never would have run up on Sylvie from behind. He wouldn't have dared, but now he feels more secure in his place with her. She's granted him a place in her life, trusts him enough to come inside of his home and let him inside of her body, so he feels more comfortable with her. Besides, she'd smack him if he overstepped, and she'd be right to do it.

"I have no earthly idea," he admits with a chuckle, kissing the side of her neck and then the juncture of her shoulder, sliding his other hand down the front of her pants to curl his metal hand over her cunt, squeezing lightly just to feel the heat of her. His cock is already hard against her ass and he groans, nosing up behind her ear.

"I promised you sex in a bed," he says in a low rumble, hearing the Brooklyn in his voice thanks to how relaxed and content he is. He wraps his arms more securely around her and lifts her until her toes leave the floor, letting out a pleased sigh. She feels weightless in his arms, priceless and precious, but not at all delicate. He lowers her back down and then slides his middle finger along her clit and then inside of her almost playfully, just trying to rile her up. "So, we better head over there, because this wall is lookin' real interesting to me."

It's as if a switch has been flipped. Sylvie has known Bucky wants her, just as she's wanted him, but he's been holding back, assuming it wasn't what she wanted or worried he might be intruding upon something. And honestly, she had considered the same, the only reason why they haven't been together like this again much sooner than this.

And now that he knows, now that she and Loki have figured out what they are and who they are, how they work, at least to an extent, everything feels different.

Which doesn't mean Sylvie isn't going to return to teasing him tomorrow and leave him wanting for a week or so, but now she'll only do it because it's fun.

He touches her now like he can't get enough of her and Sylvie moans as his fingers slides inside of her, tipping her head back against his shoulder. "The wall will still be there tomorrow," she answers, pulling free of Bucky, the loss of his finger inside of her causing a soft, shuddering exhale. But then she turns and lowers herself to the bed, pushing back on the mattress and arching her eyebrow, inviting him to join her.

Sylvie pulls away and Bucky groans at the temporary loss of her, but he’s immediately rewarded with the sight of her pulling herself onto his bed as if she belongs there, wearing that infuriatingly cocky smirk on her face. She sets Bucky’s blood ablaze, and now he no longer has to try to hide it.

After kicking off his boots and pulling his shirt over his head, he steps forward and does the same to her. She could disrobe with magic, but he likes pulling off her shoes and kissing the inside of her ankle, likes sliding his hands up her side to drag her shirt up until she has to lift her arms so he can remove it. He kisses up the inside of her arm, the crook of her elbow and the inside of her bicep, and then catches her mouth in a deep kiss as he reaches behind her to unclasp her bra.

Her breasts fall free and Bucky reaches up to cup them in his hands, thumbing at her nipples as he presses kisses to her chin, her jaw, the soft spot under her ear.

“How do you want it?” Bucky asks in a low voice, sliding his hands down to undo the button of her pants. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

By necessity, sex has almost always been rushed, an act meant to release tension, little else. Loki has taken his time with her since they began sleeping together, but it remains out of the ordinary for Sylvie, to the point that she’s still surprised when Bucky kisses her like he does, the inside of her ankle, where it turns out she’s shockingly sensitive, then her elbow, her bicep, before finally finding her mouth.

This is more than just sex, she realizes. Maybe that should have been obvious, maybe Bucky realized it long ago, but it comes as a shock to Sylvie to really understand for the first time that Bucky isn’t here just to fuck her. He cares.

It’s terrifying and she thinks about telling him that later, because at the moment she’s luckily too aroused for it to make her want to run.

“Mm,” she says, wriggling out of her jeans after she’s reached down to help her. “On my knees, I think. This time.”

Sylvie’s breath hitches as Bucky’s mouth drags across her ankle and he files that information away with all the other things that he’s learned about her, all the things that she likes, that make her feel good, that might make her happy.

“Your knees,” Bucky repeats, feeling a little winded by the image this presents in his head— her on her hands and knees with Bucky behind her, fucking into her. Just the thought is enough to make his cock twitch as he pushes his pants and underwear down to step out of them, leaving him naked aside from his ever present dog tags. “Okay.”

He leans over her to pull down her underwear, pausing to drag the backs of his metal fingertips lightly down the inside of her thigh before he climbs onto the bed on his knees, waiting for her to position herself with one hand around his cock, smiling in a way what’s somehow smug and shy all at once. “And I’ll come inside of you this time, if you want me to.”

For a moment, she doesn’t move, just lies there, propped up slightly on her arms, in order to watch him undress. He’s a spectacularly attractive man, thick with muscle in the right places, narrow through his hips, his cock a lovely place to pause and allow her gaze to linger for a moment. The simple sight of him like his, naked, aroused, flushed with want, it’s enough that Sylvie feels herself growing wetter and she squeezes her thighs together for that delicious bit of pressure it provides.

Still without speaking, without answering the unasked question in his words, she moves forward, gets onto her knees so she can come up to his level and kiss him. She lingers there, lips brushing his, her fingers finding his cock and wrapping around him for a few lazy strokes.

“I do want you to,” she answers, lips still on his. “I want to feel you later.”

Bucky is aware that he’s attractive. He’s known since he was young and he started getting sideways glances from girls and women, and even a few men, though they would both always try to ignore it. He knows it, but it’s not something he thinks about too often, at least not in recent decades.

But Sylvie looks at him like he’s something spectacular and Bucky likes how it feels to have her eyes on him like that, practically alight with approval.

She gets up on her knees to kiss him and Bucky cups her face in his hands, thumbing at her jaw and gasping softly against her mouth when her fingers wrap around him unexpectedly. His cock twitches in her loose grasp and he touches his forehead to hers, glancing down to watch, though he has to squeeze his eyes shut at the flare of arousal her words send through him.

“Yeah?” He asks against her mouth, resting his metal hand on her hip as the other reaches down between her legs, fingertips rubbing softly at her clit as she strokes him. Somehow it’s hot enough to nearly drive him mad, these exploratory touches while they share the air between their mouths, lips brushing, and he groans again at the thought of spilling inside of her, cheeks flushing at the thoughts that come to mind. “I like the thought of that, my come inside you even when I’m not around.”

“That’s the idea,” she answers, eyebrow arching as she grins against his mouth, her hips swaying forward at the touch of his fingers against her clit. She likes the touch of his cool metal fingers, she isn’t afraid of the arm like he worries people might be, but the touch of his warm fingers against her is perfect, too, and she strokes his cock again, slowly, to express her pleasure.

Sylvie kisses him again, tongue on his, her teeth grazing his lower lip before she pulls back. Her lips are still curved into a grin as she moves away, then turns on the bed, still on just her knees, her back to Bucky.

It’s a display of trust she’s given to only one other person, also here in Darrow. Fear trembles through her at the same time as arousal pulses down to her cunt and it’s an intoxicating mix. Still, he could hurt her. He could work for the TVA. He could be any number of things, but Sylvie takes a deep breath and doesn’t even so much as glance over her shoulder.

Another person might not think much of the way that Sylvie turns around and shows her back to him, head tipping forward to reveal the vulnerable nape of her neck, but Bucky knows exactly what it means, and to him it is a gift. His breath hitches as he reaches out to put his warm hand on the back of her neck, fingers slowly gliding down the slope of her spine.

It’s a clear display of trust, and Bucky wants to give it the respect that it deserves. He doesn’t push her down onto her hands, doesn’t bend her away from him at all. Instead he shifts forward and positions himself behind her, wrapping his metal arm loosely around her waist as he nudges her thighs a little further apart with his knee.

With his other hand, he positions himself and guides his cock into her slowly, rocking up into her with a soft grunt against her ear.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, wanting her to know that he understands what she’s giving him, and he wants her to feel safe here in his arms, on his cock. He rocks up into her slowly at first, shallowly, keeping his metal hand low on her belly as the other slides up to cover one of her breasts, holding her back against him as he thrusts up into her again and again, panting against the side of neck. “God, Sylvie.”

She wishes she could say she hadn't expected anything else, that she was certain Bucky would simply wrap his arms around her and slide up behind her like he has, but a part of her hadn't entirely believed it. A part of her might never believe it, might never be relaxed enough to think this won't all be torn from her in an instant, either when someone turns on her or by the TVA when they inevitably track her down.

They've taken everything and she can't believe this, and Loki, won't also be taken from her eventually.

But for now, she has this. And as Bucky's cock presses into her, as he loops his arms around her and holds her against his chest, she simply tilts her head back toward his shoulder and allows herself, if not to believe it will last, then to at least believe it's real for now.

She's quiet, but that doesn't really surprise Bucky. It's a lot, not just for her but for him, too. Her head rests against his shoulder and Bucky raises his hand to curl it loosely around her throat, thumbing at her jaw before gliding it slowly down her body, down between her breasts and over the curve of her ribs, down the flat of of her stomach and past her navel.

"You feel so good," he says against her ear, and maybe it's corny, maybe she'll roll her eyes at him, but he knows how he reacts to sweetness and praise. Even if he'd never admit it. Maybe she's like him in that way, too. "God, so good, Sylvie."

Like this, stretched out against Bucky, there is little she can do but just let herself be fucked, and Bucky encourages her to relax into it, murmuring against her ear and pressing kisses to her jaw and the side of her face as his hand slides lower. His fingers comb through the soft hair between her legs and then down further, circling her clit with the pad of his middle finger, applying direct pressure every few strokes.

"I'm right here," he says quietly, shifting the angle of his hips until he finds that the spot inside of her that makes her clench down around him, groaning as he strikes it again and again, doing his best to bring her to dizzying heights of pleasure. "I'm not letting go."

When he had asked how she wanted it, when she told him on her knees, this hadn’t been what she’d meant, yet now that he’s wrapped around her, now that he seems to be touching her everywhere at once, she’s glad she had stayed upright. At least at first.

It’s intimate, something she doesn’t allow herself most of the time, sees the danger in it even now. But it feels so good, not just his cock inside her or the fingers rubbing against her clit. It’s the closeness of his body, his chest against her back, the way the cradle of his hips fits against her ass. She won’t be able to stay like this for long, but for the moment, as she lifts one arm and reaches back, fingers tangling in his hair, it’s perfect.

“God,” she all but whispers when the angle changes and finally she needs to shift away. Bending at her hips, she drops her hands down to the mattress, head hanging, curls in her face, and tilts her hips up and back to give Bucky a better angle. “Hold my hips,” she tells him, shivering as she presses back onto his cock.

Sylvie's arm comes up, fingers burying in his thick hair, and Bucky turns his head to kiss at the inside of her arm, dragging his tongue along her soft skin to follow a bead of sweat. When she pulls away to fall forward, Bucky has to resist the urge to pull her back against him, but he understands how it can feel like too much, too intense.

She falls forward and Bucky follows only to sweep her hair away from her face, sliding his hand down her back to grab at her hips as instructed, fingers pressing in hard enough to bruise. He stares at the long line of her back and the salacious tilt of her hips, watching as his cock slides nearly all the way out of her and plunges back in slowly.

"Do you want it hard or slow?" Bucky asks raggedly, rocking back until just the head of his cock rests inside of her body, waiting for her answer.

Both, she thinks. Everything. She needs to be patient, this can’t all happen at once, and they have time. This one night doesn’t have to be all or nothing and Sylvie reminds herself of that as she tilts her head back slightly to look at Bucky.

Her lips curve, her eyes bright with want.

“Hard,” she says. “See if you can make me feel it tomorrow.”

They’re both strong, much stronger than the average person. She won’t break him and he won’t break her, which means they can let go, they can take and give what they want, fucking and rolling around and maybe at some point, slowly and sweetly having sex. It can be all these things.

Sylvie turns his head to look at him, eyes shining as she delivers him a clear challenge with a wicked smile, and Bucky feels heat flare up his spine as he gives her a wild grin in return. Knowing that he won't have to hold back nearly overwhelms him with need, and also with a certain sort of fondness.

"As you wish," he replies, sliding his metal hand up her back to curl around her shoulder, holding her in place as he pulls his hips back and slams them forward again, crashing their bodies together with more force than he's ever dared before. The sound of it nearly surprises him and he pauses, eyes wide as he waits to see if it was too much, but Sylvie is a god. She is stronger than he'll ever be and, secure in the knowledge of both that and the fact that she'll stop him if he loses himself, he gives in, fucking into her at a brutal pace that can only happen because of the level of trust and caring between them. He can let himself go, give into the animal inside of him, knowing he'll have someone to catch him on the other side of it.

"Will you feel me?" Bucky pants out, tightening his vibranium grip on her shoulder as he presses on her lower back with his other hand, changing the angle of his hips so he can strike her g-spot again and again. "Fuck, Sylvie."

"I think you're proving yourself up to the task," she answers, breathless, but her tone somehow still smug. She's aching wonderfully, the muscles of her thighs and her backside sore from both Bucky's thrusts and the way on which she tenses them, sending bolts of heat through her. Her cunt is swollen, flushed, as she shoves herself back against him, meeting his thrusts, gasping when he changes the angle of his hips again.

Her weight shifts onto one hand and she reaches down her body, her fingers circling her clit as Bucky fucks into her from behind. This is reminiscent in ways of the first night they'd spent together all those months ago, though without the implication one of them will be forced to leave at the end of it. If she wants to stay, she knows he'll let her.

"I'm close," she warns him, knowing he'll want her to come first, knowing he'll want to feel that. Her fingers move more insistently against her clit as she drops her head, breasts bouncing with every breath, every thrust.

Sylvie's tone is smug and breathless all at once, but Bucky can't help but to feel a little smug himself. Her pale skin is flushed and glistening with sweat, rocking back against his cock in a needy sort of way, and Bucky groans as she shifts her weight to reach between her legs.

"Good to know, but I'm not gonna stop," Bucky tells her in a low voice, falling forward to plant his metal hand into the bed next to hers, covering her back with her chest. His other hand slides from her hip to cross over her chest, grabbing at one of her breasts as he fucks her.

"Go on, come," he pants out against her ear, smiling wickedly as he tugs at her nipple. "And then I'll make you come again."

"It was more meant to be informative," she answers, surprised by her ability to be sarcastic even in a moment like this, overcome with pleasure, every part of her body aching beautifully. "You better not stop."

With his chest against her back, Sylvie falls silent, breathing hard, allowing herself to focus on everything she's feeling. Bucky so close, his cock slamming into her again and again, his fingers pulling at her nipple and then twisting in a way that makes her cry out.

It's enough to send her over the edge, too, her own fingers rocking against her clit, and Sylvie comes with a gasp, pushing herself into him at the same time, wanting more, wanting everything he can give her.

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