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It was no secret that you got nightmares. Nearly every night, at least one Avenger would be woken by your muffled screams through the walls as you were jolted awake by a terrifying memory resurfacing through your subconscious. No one ever faulted you for it. They understood. Being an Avenger, the team sees some pretty gruesome things. They all get nightmares sometimes. When Bucky joined the team, it was almost relieving not to be the only one tormented with a constant barrage of horrible images. It was actually surprising how much you two had in common. Both coming from Hydra, trained as assassins, tortured, severe mental trauma, etc etc.
That being said, you and Bucky weren't exactly close pals. You've shared a beer once or twice before, and you had to admit you were quite attracted to the man, but he always seemed closed off. Not that you didn't notice the lingering stares he would give you, but you chose not to put much thought into those. He stared a lot, at most people. The only time you'd seen him smile was when he was joking around with Steve. Granted, it was also a little bit your fault, being almost equally as closed off as him. So you were shocked to see him standing by your door one night after you had once again woken up in a sweaty panic.
"I had one, too," he said. You blinked, forcing your heaving breath to slow.
"A nightmare?" You noticed he also looked slightly pale, his eyes darting around the room and his posture made himself small.
He nodded. “My… therapist says that I should share my experiences with someone who has gone through something similar. And… well… you get nightmares too, so we could share the experience… if that makes sense.”
“I think they meant sharing as in talking, not… sharing as in doing it together,” you laugh.
“I’m giving it my own interpretation,” he responds, also amusedly.
The room went silent as he stared at the ground, embarrassed.
It took you a second to realize what was happening.
"So you… wanna sleep together?"
He chuckled at the innuendo (your first time making him laugh, you realize). "Well, when you put it that way…"
You breathed out a laugh as well. You lean over the bed to pick up the shirt dumped on the floor and put it on to cover your chest scars and scoot over to make room for him.
You weren't uncomfortable with your scars. You just weren't comfortable with coming out to Bucky just yet. Sure, Steve was cool with it when he found out, but Bucky isn't Steve. It's hard to gauge how 100-year-old men will react to trans folk.
Bucky was glad that the room was dark so you couldn't see the embarrassed red dusting his cheeks. He shuffled into the bed, laying on his back and taking as little blanket as possible. Your bed wasn't exactly large, but he sure was trying to put as much space between you two as possible. The energy was awkward, so you turn on your side, back towards him, and listen to the sound of his breathing as you drift off. Amazingly, no nightmares come to torment you or Bucky for the remainder of the night.
You and Bucky never mention this event to each other, though several days later you find yourself in bed with him again. This time, it was you popping into his doorway. The dream that night had been especially horrific, and you trembled as your hand settled on the door handle, though it was not only from the dream. Before you could turn it all the way, the door opened, and there stood Bucky in dark sweats and nothing more. You hoped that Bucky blamed the red on your cheeks from being startled at the door, and not the way his muscles rippled with every movement, the scars around his left shoulder contorting with the movement of his metal arm.
“I saw your shadow under the door. Sorry if I scared you,” he says kindly. You shake your head quickly and move into his room as he moves his body out from the doorway.
His room was dark and warm. You wondered if the curtains were blackout, as not the moon nor a single lamppost was shining in. His bed was bigger than yours, with a large, thick comforter that you noticed was made neatly, edges tucked underneath the mattress and three pillows aligned at the head. On the floor, at the foot of the bed, illuminated by the T.V quietly playing an episode of Jeopardy, was a simple blanket and a fourth pillow.
“We don’t have to sleep on the floor. I’m not quite used to my bed yet, so this is more comfortable for me right now.”
He pulls out the comforter’s tucked in sides and climbs underneath. You follow suit. Immediately you notice that this mattress is quite firm. You had been out of Hydra’s grasp for significantly longer than Bucky had, having adjusted to normal society, and then to Avenger’s lifestyle, but in a way, it was comforting to be laying on such an uncomfortable mattress, ironically enough.
As the red numbers on the digital clock across the room tick away, and the subtitles on Jeopardy flick across the screen, delayed by several seconds, you and Bucky make quite nice conversation. Perhaps the first real, deep conversation you two had shared. It doesn’t slip your notice that you are significantly closer to him than you had been, and eventually you both fall asleep, arms touching lightly. Once again, a dreamless sleep.
Your third night with Bucky happened only two days after the second night. This time it was once again Bucky at your door, though this time he said nothing, simply closing the door gently and slipping into your small bed. Clearly, whatever dream he had woken from had left him with few words. You wanted to reach for him, but just like the first night he was as far away as he could physically be. This time, you turned to face him.
He was laying on his back, his eyes staring, unblinking, at the ceiling. You admire his profile for a moment before speaking.
“Are you alright?”
Finally he blinks, a long, slow blink that made you think he had simply gone to sleep. When his eyes open again, he speaks softly.
“I am now.”
Not knowing how to respond, the air soon got quite awkward. You found the amount of space between you and Bucky to be almost hysterical.
"You know you might as well just sleep in your own bed if you're gonna be this uncomfortable in mine," you crack a joke, uncomfortable with the vulnerability you felt from this whole situation. Bucky glanced at your face and cracked a smile.
"Sorry, just… not sure what the boundaries are here."
You weighed your options over the next move you were going to make and decided that, at this point, you had nothing to lose. You closed the distance and rested your head on his chest and your arm across his stomach. You felt his breathing stop for a second, his hands lifted up like they're not sure what to do. When they decided, his metal arm wrapped around your torso and his flesh hand rested on his stomach, next to yours.
"Is this okay?" you whispered. Bucky whispered a "yeah" back.
And for the third night with Bucky Barnes, the nightmares evade you both.
At this point your arrangement has become quite the regular occurrence. Of course, the nightmares didn’t fully go away. But now, when either of you wake in a thrashing panic, sweating or screaming, the other simply has to wrap their arms around their body and whisper comforting words until the trembling ceases. Bucky would kiss your forehead, and you would run your hands through his hair.
It continued randomly for a short while, before eventually you both stopped just appearing at each other’s doors and simply started going to bed together. You would switch rooms every night. Despite the smaller bed, Bucky claimed he liked your room better, but you loved the way his room smelled like him and had a comforting vibe you couldn’t explain. Bucky never gave you a reason as to why he liked your room, though of course he would never admit that the smell of your cologne made his heart pound and he adored watching you move so comfortably across your own room as you cleaned or put away laundry or simply got ready for bed.
You eventually did come out to him, and just like Steve, he was perfectly fine with it. He even mentioned that he had a friend like that back in old-timey Brooklyn, “It wasn’t quite as uncommon as you may think.” You were relieved that he didn't start treating you any differently. You ditch the t-shirt you wore while sleeping. You slept nearly naked together, only boxer briefs preventing it. You could feel yourself falling harder for him every day.
Tonight, you were in Bucky’s room. You sank into his duvet, but Bucky was not there with you.
Perhaps it was a little weird that you were sleeping in his room while he was out on a late-night mission, but to be fair, it was his room’s turn to be slept in. This was also, surprisingly, the first time you and Bucky had not slept in the same bed since you started making it a thing. Truth be told, you were terrified that if you didn’t sleep in his room tonight, you’d get a bad one. He wasn’t supposed to be back until mid-afternoon tomorrow, so you’d have to fight this yourself tonight. Nothing you’ve never dealt with before, but it had been a while since you had felt the heavy dread that came after the sun had set.
So you snuggled deeper into his fantastic comforter and inhaled his scent on his pillow and reluctantly drifted into sleep.
You wake thrashing, trying to throw off the hands of the Hydra agents grabbing at your arms and legs to hold you down. Of course, this was just in your mind, but your heart pounded in your chest as the remnant pressure of their hands faded away. A glance at the digital clock tells you only an hour has passed since you laid down. You groan, wrapping the comforter around you once again and forcing your eyes shut. Clearly this is going to be a long night.
And long it was. It continued like this, every hour you tear yourself out of another nightmare, each more unbearable than the last, until finally, at around 3 in the morning, you simply lay curled in a trembling ball underneath the heavy duvet, refusing to close your eyes.
You sit up quickly as the door of Bucky’s bedroom clicks open, an hour later.
Bucky is silent as he throws his bag onto a chair and makes his way to the bathroom, pulling his shirt over his head as he moves. The sound of the shower echoes off the bathroom walls and you turn the TV on as you wait for him, the same channel playing late night Jeopardy reruns appearing on the screen.
When he finally emerged from the shower he had only a towel wrapped around his waist. Surely he knows I’m in here? you think to yourself as he makes his way to his dresser, shedding the towel (facing away from you unfortunately) and grabs some boxers from the top drawer. When he turns around to you, your face is beet red and your eyes are unmoving from the screen as a bald man fumbles his double Jeopardy. He climbs into bed next to you.
“Can’t sleep?” he murmurs, clearly noticing your dead tired eyes, clammy skin, and the comforter which has been ungraciously tangled, flipped around, and wrinkled heavily where your hands gripped it tightly. You simply shake your head. When you finally glance at his face, you notice his eyes are also dark, looking at the TV but not really watching.
“You’re back early,” you realize. He nods, suddenly pulling your body over to his to sit snugly in his side. The action makes your heart flutter, but you ignore it as he speaks.
“Things started going south, so we had to ditch the mission. Our cover was totally blown. We probably won’t get an opportunity like this one for months.”
“Is everyone okay?”
“Everyone is fine, thankfully. Things started getting ugly but we made it out without a scratch.”
You knew something else was bothering him.
“And… are you okay?”
He was silent for a moment, metal hand lightly tracing up and down your thigh, which only strengthened the flutter in your chest.
“It was another one of these damn nightmares. When I woke up, I kicked something, a can I think? Steve swears up and down that there were already enemy agents closing in on us, but it’s still hard not to feel like it wasn’t my fault.”
Sighing, he sorts out the comforter, then slides onto his back, pulling your body so that your entire weight was on top of him, your head resting on his sternum, legs tangling together. His hands were resting on your hips, tracing small circles into the skin, and it was moments like this that you were glad your boners were so inconspicuous. You loved laying on him like this, listening to the steady rhythm of his thumping heart. One of your hands snakes up to tangle themselves into his hair, massaging his scalp. With each breath he can feel the tension in his body ebbing away. He was back in his place of comfort; not just in Avenger’s headquarters, or his bedroom, but with you, resting on top of him, absorbing your presence and breathing in your scent. He wished you could just sink into him, flesh and blood and bones melding together, impossibly close. He had to dismiss other thoughts of how he could get you impossibly closer to him, as his boners were… not quite as inconspicuous as yours. Much… much less, in fact.
"Well I'm glad you're back safe…. I missed you," you whisper.
He hums. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was away. I didn’t want to leave you alone. It felt wrong. I hope things didn’t get too bad.”
Your lack of a response seemed to be response enough for him. He slides one hand between your shoulder blades, the other wrapping across your lower back in a hug. “I’m sorry.”
You lift your head to look him in the eyes. Your faces were so close, but you ignored that for now. “Don’t you dare blame yourself, Bucky. Not for my nightmares, and not for the mission, either. What matters is that everyone is safe. You made it home. You're here with me now, and that’s all I could ever ask for.”
He stares into your eyes wordlessly, and you stare back. Now, it became harder- nearly impossible- to ignore just how close you were to each other. His breath fanned over your face, and his quick glance at your lips did not escape your notice. Your own breath catches in your throat as his face seems to inch ever closer, and you yourself can’t help but glance at his lips, parted slightly, glistening from his tongue wetting the lightly chapped skin.
Unable to contain yourselves any longer, you both collided in a kiss that seemed to set your very body aflame. You couldn’t feel anything except for where Bucky’s skin burned against yours. Even the cool metal of his left arm left trails of fire as he caressed up your side and cupped your cheek. But the hand on your face was less of a gentle gesture than an attempt to pull you even closer, deepening the kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you reciprocated until even this became almost too much to bear.
He was animalistic in the way his tongue thrashed against yours, low moans erupting from his throat. The sound enraptured you completely, you wanted more, you wanted to hear every possible sound he could make. You didn’t even notice the sounds of your own moans, which drove him just as wild. He wanted to know just how loud you could get. What will you sound like as he touches you, as you lose yourself in him, as you bounce on his cock?
His cock, which at this point was very conspicuous between the two of you, twitched in his boxers. It was impossible for you to ignore, and you relish in the gasp he gives as your hips grind down slowly.
“I need you,” he growls, and your stomach flips. You thought this day would never come. You continue to grind into him, his dick rubbing against your own through your boxers in a way that had you trembling, both from the pleasure and the complete, utter desperation for more. You needed him, needed to feel him against you, inside you.
You can feel his abs flexing as he begins to sit up, and you quickly scramble to fix your position. You're now sitting on his lap, legs on either side of him as both his hands grab your hips, moving them himself so that you grind down even more forcefully. You moan, loudly, which flusters you, but Bucky simply captures your lips in another desperate, fiery kiss. His cock strains at the thought of himself unraveling you so easily.
His lips move from yours to kiss their way down your jaw to your neck. He sucks lightly, not leaving any marks but still making your stomach churn at the feeling of his lips on your sensitive neck. Licking, sucking, kissing, biting, it all sends waves of arousal to your core. Your head is thrown back, soft moans coming from your parted lips, and a hand is tangled in his hair. He continues down, to your collarbone, where he does, in fact, start leaving marks, but you don’t care. You wouldn’t have even cared if he did leave marks on your neck. Slowly, he makes his way back up your neck to your ear, where he whispers your name, low and sultry
“Please, I need you,” he repeats. “I wanna feel you.”
There were only two pieces of clothing in the way, your boxers and his, and your heart raced at the thought of them disappearing. Your hand trembled as it made its way down, and you lifted your hips to palm at his straining cock. You were also embarrassed to find a prominent wet spot from where you had been grinding on him, though slightly less embarrassed as your fingers slip past the waistband of his boxers and find he is already precumming.
As you are freeing his cock from its confines, his own fingers have infiltrated your boxers. They travel down, down, grazing over your dick, which elicits a shiver, before dipping into your dripping core. You feel his cock strain once again as his fingers circle your hole.
“Fuck, so wet already…”
“All for you.”
He groans at your words, and you have to maneuver yourself quickly to get your boxers off as he practically is ripping them off. He slides his own boxers down and you have to stop yourself from making a strangled noise as you finally see the… full package. Admittedly, you feel slightly self conscious at being completely bare with him, but the way he hungrily takes in your body, dick twitching repeatedly, quickly banishes these thoughts. In fact it was hard to have any thoughts that didn’t feature him fucking you into this mattress.
Your fingers wrap themselves around him, stroking slowly from base to tip, as his fingers continue to tease, never fully putting pressure on your own throbbing dick, and never dipping inside you. He wanted to hear you say it, to beg for him. And fuck did you want it.
“Bucky please…” you whimper. Your legs were beginning to tremble. “I need you. I need to feel you against me, I need you inside me.”
Clearly you were affecting him. His eyes were dark with lust and he captured your lips in another hungry kiss. Taking his cock in his own hand, he rubbed the tip against you, your own wetness mixing with his precum. You grind into him, sliding up and down on his cock. It sends waves of pleasure through your body, and he groans as the tip catches on your hole. You also gasp, looking into his eyes as he circles the head around your hole slowly.
“You want me inside you?” he whispers. You nod vigorously. “Need,” you could barely choke out. Finally, he aligns himself with your hole, and you sink down onto him.
Typically, you’d allow for some more foreplay. However tonight, clearly, foreplay was not on either of your minds. You felt completely feral, the slow slide of him finally filling you up pushed any rational thought out of your mind. There was only him. And to him, there was only you. Your skin stuck to his, and it just reminded Bucky of how close you were. Finally, so impossibly close. Not melting into him, at least not in the literal sense, but this would do for now. He bottoms out.
You have to stay still for a moment. The intensity of the moment was getting to you, but he was… large, and you didn’t want to end up hurting yourself. But fuck, did he feel good. So deep inside, so big. You can feel him twitching inside you as he waits for you to move. His hands were on your hips, massaging your skin comfortingly.
Both of your hands tangle themselves in his hair as you place a kiss on his lips. You can tell he is restraining himself. He wants nothing more than to hold you down and fuck you until you’re screaming his name, with nothing on your mind except the feeling of his cock pounding into you. Admittedly, you want that too.
“Fuck,” he moans. “You’re so wet, ‘n warm. So tight. I can feel you clenching around me, it’s driving me crazy.” His words set your core on fire. You slowly shift your hips, circling them, feeling every movement inside of you, so fucking deep it made your brain fuzzy. His eyes roll back, clearly also able to feel every movement as you continue to roll your hips into him, getting wetter and wetter every second. Finally, you move. All the way up to the head, then sinking right back down, just as slowly as before. You wanted him to break. To break you.
Again, pulling out all the way to the tip, then back down. You felt every inch of him, stretching you so deliciously you could hardly think. Then again, all the way to the tip, before his hands tighten on your hips and he pushes you down himself. A moan is ripped from your throat as his cock forcefully slams into you. Finally, you give in.
You begin bouncing on his cock, relishing in the way it fills you up, rubs your walls. Fuck you couldn’t get enough of it, you felt like you were being torn apart from the inside out.
He begins thrusting his hips up to meet you, which just adds even more force. At this point you could hardly shut up, moans and whimpers escaping your mouth, filling the room. His own sounds were driving you crazy, gasps and low moans.
Bucky could hardly believe how good you felt, clenching around him, so wet. He could hardly think straight, just wanting more, more, as much of you as he could get. He felt every inch of you, as you felt every wonderful inch of him. But this angle, while he loved, loved, the sight of you losing yourself on top of him, was not giving what either of you deserved.
His big strong arms wrap around your torso, metal arm making you shiver, stilling you and holding you tightly. He moves, shifting around so that you are now resting on your back, all the while, he still twitches inside of you.
Now on top of you, though still with his arms wrapped tightly around, he resumes the movement of his hips. Him now completely in control in this new position, you felt like you could hardly breathe from the force of his thrusts. Every slap of his hips against you was accompanied by loud gasps and moans. You felt like you could almost cry, this was so overwhelming. Each thrust inside sent waves of pleasure up and down your body. Pretty soon, it started pooling in your stomach, and you knew you were close.
You were clenching tightly around Bucky now, and he felt his legs beginning to tremble from the pleasure he felt inside of you. Fuck, if he kept this pace up, he was gonna-
“Bucky, fuck, I’m gonna cum. Fuck you feel so good, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped out, interrupting his thoughts.
Well fuck it then
“I’m close too. You feel so good around my cock, darling, I’m so close,” he growled in your ear. His words only sent even more shocks of pleasure to your core, you were almost there.
“Please, please cum inside me.”
How could he say no to that? You, begging for his cum, clenching tightly around his cock, and moaning in his ear. He continued thrusting, hard, until finally he felt you coming undone around him. Waves of pleasure wracked your body, your nails clawed at his skin. The pulsing of your core around his cock finally sent him over the edge, and you felt as he shot hot, thick ropes of cum deep inside you, all the while still fucking you through both your orgasms, albeit, unsteadily.
Minutes later, as Bucky had begun softening inside of you and your breathing and heart rate had finally slowed to a less concerning rate, was when you felt like a conscious human person again. Slowly he lifts himself off of you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.
“That was…” he doesn’t even know how to finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to though. You understand completely, and kiss him once more.
Slowly, he slides out of you, but you see his cock twitch once more as he watches his cum drip slowly out of your hole. You felt like you could hardly move, but he made his way to the bathroom and procured a wet towel for you. He cleans the both of you up, tosses the towel into the laundry hamper, then once again climbs into bed next to you. He holds you close, and finally the exhaustion hits and you both trail into comfortable, dreamless sleep.