Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The forests are surrounded by a deep winter that doesn’t seem to have an end in sight. But that matters not to the base hidden between the trees and carved into the permafrost.

Down here, deep underground, hid the Nazi-founded HYDRA. Here, they kept patients, experiments, prisoners of war, weapons, and prototypes. There were many levels to this underground base, each floor dedicated to a specific area of interest.

You had no idea what floor you were kept on, whether it was the patient floor or the experiments floor. You only know that you mostly followed people around, people like guards or scientists. You got to see a lot, like fights between people in semi-controlled, glass contained, impromptu fighting rings or morally-questionable experiments.

But what took up most of everybody’s time was HYDRA’s most prized experiment. The Winter Soldier, a prisoner of war turned experiment. He was their deadliest weapon and their most successful experiment.

You learned from the scientists that you followed around that the Soldier was originally a sergeant from America. He’d been captured and experimented on by HYDRA before. But he was rescued by his fellow American comrades, who failed in a successful rescue when their sergeant fell from a train into a ravine. Afterwards, HYDRA had captured the Soldier once again and started their experiments up almost immediately.

You had seen how successful HYDRA’s experiment was and how deadly the Winter Soldier really was. It really showed in his fight training, either against one or against many, and during weapon training. You could count on one hand how many times the Winter Soldier had been bested in his own field. It was scary how strong and agile such a large man could be, especially when he was so quiet. You were thankful that the doctors deemed you too weak to be a plaything for the Soldier.

But there was a kind side to the Soldier. It was something he only showed when his main doctors or training generals weren’t around, and it seems to be only particularly around you (maybe because you were one of the five or less women on this particular HYDRA base).

The Winter Soldier, when he was around, often held open doors for you or followed you around when you were left to wander, watching your movements and actions curiously. Whatever limited hobby you were allowed to do, the Soldier was hovering over your shoulder (quite literally) to watch whatever was going on. He’d also smuggle warmer clothing to you whenever the chance arose, as the coldness of the concrete base often seeped through the thin cloth of HYDRA’s provided clothes.

There were also times where the Winter Soldier had become your sole protector.

In the common areas, the men captured by HYDRA could get rather rowdy, whether that was because they were fighting for dominance, the side effects of their subjected-to experiment, or they were simply going insane from the lack of heat and sunlight was all beyond you. But when a tussle broke out near you or because of you (cons of being the only woman not a scientist or receptionist), the Winter Soldier was there to shield you away and separate the fighting men.

The Soldier also seemed to dislike whenever said men got near you or sat beside you. He was always shouldering his way between you and whatever man that decided to bug you at that moment. Thankfully, compared to the scrawny, underfed men that filled the experimental chambers and captor’s cells, the Soldier was tall and burly. His shadow easily towered over any man that resided in the common areas. These interactions had led to you being left alone when the Winter Soldier was in the room and was either sat beside you or lurking in the shadows of a far corner.

But, much to HYDRA’s dismay, their Siberian bunker was not as hidden as they liked.

Blaring alarms and flashing red lights woke you suddenly from a semi-deep slumber. You gasped, sitting up. You heard the thudding of boots marching down the concrete hallways, along with occasional rounds of gunfire. You could hear exclaims in russian and screams of agony and pain at inflicted wounds.

A loud, blaring alarm rose above the current noises for a few seconds. A metallic thunk followed and your room, as well as your across-the-hall-neighbor’s door, slowly swung open. Minus the alarms, the gunfire, and voices of shock and agony, it was silent for a few moments. Suddenly, the scrambling noises of footsteps and the cheers of men sounded out. You recognized that as your fellow bunker comrades running from their rooms and down the hallway, which had caused more russian voices to sound out.

You stayed in your room, pressed into the corner where your bed lay and shielded for the most part with your thin bed coverings brought up to your chest. You weren’t entirely sure what was going on, and was too scared to go find out.

It wasn’t too long until a tall figure stalked its way into your room. You almost didn’t recognize the figure until you saw the glint of a large metal object hanging down from the figure's side.

It was the Winter Soldier.

The Soldier glanced around the room before seeing you. He comes forward, offering you his right, leather bound, hand.

You take it.

The Soldier pulls you up to him and gazes at you for a few heartbeats before turning and dragging you out the doorway of your room and down the cold, concrete hallways.

It’s not until you were shoved against the cold, hard hallway with a rough arm that you realized that the Soldier was fully armed. A holster with various pockets and places for weapons and ammo was sinched around the Soldier's waist. Another smaller holster was wrapped around the Soldier's right upper thigh that held a pocket for a small knife and another gun. A final gun was held in the Soldier's right hand, pointing it at the now-downed guards that were set to block your way.

The Winter Soldier let go of you for a few moments, ransacking the lifeless guards for weapons and warmer clothes.

A pair of leather boots with fluff inside were handed your way. A thick jacket followed soon after.

You put the hand-me-downs on as fast as you could before the Winter Soldier grabbed you once again to continue dragging you down the hallway and up some stairs, away from the gunfire and screams.

At the top of the stairs, the Soldier shoves a door open. You're blinded by the very bright light coming from whatever is behind the door and the only thing you can hear is the metallic screech of the rusty door whining against the motion of being opened too fast.

Cold air rushes it way into your face and squeezes it's way into the crevices of clothing that does it's best to shield you away from the air. The cold is unlike anything you've ever felt. You didn't think anything could be colder than the concrete bunker you've been in for who knows how long now.

The brightness nor the cold could slow the Winter Soldier down. He trudged through the newness without a second thought and trampled over the strange "crunch crunch" of the ground.

You were blinded by both the light and icy wind for far too long than you were comfortable. It was when your eyes finally did get used to your new surroundings were you winded, and not just from running.

Ahead of you was a large field, covered in stark white snow. Springs of dead, long grass peaked up through the thick, solid snow throughout the whole area. Above you both, the full moon lit up the whole field, leaving nothing to the imagination. At the edge of the field, surrounding the whole edge, was a dark forest, full of tall and thick trees. It looked as if the bright moon wasn't strong enough to break through the branches of the tall trees.

You looked back as you heard shouts of people behind you.

At the mouth of the dark gray building behind you, about ten or so people stood and shouted, waving around something in their hands.

A "tink" against the Winter Soldier's metal arm made you realize you were being shot at. Before you could fully react, you stumbled forward as the Soldier pulled you up to him to match his pace. He was turned back slightly, shooting back the russian soldiers with a gun in his metal hand.

Before either of you were hit by bullets in any fleshy parts of your bodies, you were encased in darkness. Above and around you were trees. Below you, you heard the snapping of twigs as you trampled through the forest like a pair of frightened deer.

The Soldier used the trees to both of your advantages, effectively using the dense forest to hide you both and disappear from the Russian soldier's views.

Neither of you stopped running, whether it was due to adrenaline or fear is what you weren't sure of.

Before long, you smelled smoke that smelled like burning wood. A light flickered between the trees ahead. If you squinted against the dark forest, you could make out small buildings with pointed roofs dotting the forest. You could barely make out a clearing ahead where the small buildings became more closely packed together.

The Soldier slowed and inched towards the town, gun still held in his left hand and your hand in his right.

You both stopped a good few feet from the furthest-out house. You weren't sure exactly what you were looking for so you looked up at the Soldier, waiting for the next move.

The Winter Soldier observed the houses with squinted eyes. His breathing was labored, breathless. He made no sign that he was winded, nor that he was tired from the running, other than the flaring of his nostrils. The Soldier's shoulder-length hair had been tossed about in the cold wind of the open hair, causing a few strands to stray out from the rest. His jaw was tense and his gun was still held in his hand tightly.

After a few moments of waiting, the Winter Soldier began moving forward. He was careful to not make too much noise as he moved through the semi-sleeping village.

You followed his eye-line and spotted an empty house ahead, nestled on the outer area of the small village. The house was dark and only showed its weather just a bit, but otherwise looked like it would keep you two warm.

The house was small, you noticed as you stood in front of it. There were only about four steps up onto the small porch that the front door stood upon. Said door creaked when opened, and showed a small but decently sized open floor plan that contained a small kitchen, a table to the side for a dining room, and a living room that contained little furniture. Down between the kitchen and the impromptu dining room was a hallway that presumably led to more rooms, possibly bedrooms.

The Winter Soldier went in first, his gun poised at action just in case. He poked around corners and particular dark shadows and in the cabinets. He ordered you to stay near the front door with a grunt and pointed look before disappearing down the hallway to the other rooms.

It wasn't long before the Soldier came back into the main room, situating his small handgun into the holster on his waist. He came over to you, shouldering you gently aside before securing the front door and pulling the raggedy curtains closed to provide both of you some security from prying eyes. He turned back to you, observing you once again. You watched his eyes flit from one location to another. The Soldier grabbed both your hands cautiously, bringing them up between you two.

You followed his gaze down to your own hands. Due to the lack of gloves, your hands were pale and a little purple towards your finger tips. They looked… small in his hands. The Soldier’s hands were large with thick fingers. His right one wore a leather glove and the left lacked one, exposing his metal hand. His hands turned yours, examining them for who knows what. He moved his fingers to grab onto one of yours, holding your hands up and shaking them by a grip on the tip of your middle fingers.

“So.. маленький,” the Winter Soldier muttered. Small.

He let go of your hands and gripped your shoulders gently. You looked up at him to find the Soldier staring at you very intently. You weren’t entirely too sure why until the Winter Soldier lunged forward, smushing his lips onto yours.

You let out a noise of surprise and moved to grip the Solider's wrists. Your eyes were wide at the sudden close contact, leaving you with a close up the Winter Soldier's closed eyes and furrowed brows. After a few stuttered heartbeats, you finally relaxed. You shut your eyes and pressed into the larger man, loosening your grip on his wrists.

The Winter Soldier pulled back just a bit, tilting his head the other way before coming back in and connecting your lips once more. He presses into you, stopping for a moment before he comes closer and closer to the point where you almost topple backwards.

You stumble backward, catching yourself from falling over. But your companion keeps pressing forwards so you're forced to keep stumbling backwards.

As you two move and stumble, the Winter Soldier keeps giving you pecks. He never moves beyond that form of kissing, even as he keeps pressing you back.

The back of your knees hit something firm and short, causing you to be dead-legged and fall back. Your eyes fly open again and you briefly let go of the Soldier, hands scrambling for something more stable to grab onto. You decide that the Soldier's over-the-shoulder holster straps would be stable enough to grab onto and hold your weight. Despite the fight for stability, you both fall over.

You land with a small puff of air pushed from your lungs onto something soft and cushy. It's the couch that sat just a few feet from the living room's fireplace.

The Winter Soldier grunts at the impact, his hands leaving your shoulders to catch himself on the back of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric. The man's lips lose contact with yours for a moment, but he's back on you as quick as he can. Suddenly he moves from your lips, leaving a trail of pecked kisses over your right cheek and under your jawline. He pulls the fluffy collar off your jacket aside, continuing his journey down your neck.

You shiver from both the sudden cold and the feeling of the Soldier's lips against your neck.

"You're so warm," Your large companion murmured, voice low and rumbly against your skin.

You whimper, tightening your grip against the Soldier's shoulder holster straps.

The Winter Soldier takes your noise as a form of encouragement, using his metal hand to pull the collar of your shirt away a bit to allow your companion to discover more skin. He starts leaving open-mouthed kisses along the skin of your throat and the top of your shoulder, mixing in tongue and the scrapes of teeth.

You can feel him get a little more aggressive with his ministrations, nipping and pulling at your skin. As much as you were enjoying the moment, you knew that it wasn't neither the time or the place to indulge in your mammalian urges.

"Sol-Soldier," You stutter, using the only name you've ever heard used for the man above you.

Your companion pulls away instantly, looking at you with concern and curiosity, with a bit of desire mixed in. He looks at you, waiting for your next words.

"Maybe..," You trail off, glancing down to where you fiddle with the shoulder straps and then back up at the Winter Soldier's blue eyes. "Maybe not now. Another time."

"Not now?" The Winter Soldier asks, wanting to confirm your answer.

You nod, "Somewhere.. warmer."

The man nods, backing away from you and straightening up. He sits down beside you on the couch, pressing into you. The Soldier wraps his metal arm over your shoulders, pulling you towards his much larger and warmer body. He pulls a gun from a holster on his waist, holding it readily as he rests that hand on his thigh.

"Sleep," the Soldier orders gently, voice grumbly.

You obey, pulling your legs up onto the couch and wrapping your big winter jacket around you to conserve as much body heat as you can. You lean into your companion, resting against the firm tactical gear.

Over the next few months, you’ve practically disappeared from HYDRA’s radar. After the raid, they’d lost the Winter Soldier and had no way to track him down. Until something dings on the radar in Romania two years after you’ve settled down.

You and the Soldier had travelled south, slowly making your way from Russia and away from HYDRA. And during those travels, the Soldier seems to change. He’s still grumpy and stern, but he grows a little gentler and softer spoken around you in and in the private of your shared apartment. Slowly, your companion reveals to you that he’s starting to remember a past, his past before the Winter Soldier. Along with these memories came a name, James Barnes. He’s sure there’s a middle name that starts with a ‘B’ but he can’t remember the word. And he’s sure that he was in the military and that he was a sergeant, which has earned him a new nickname from you.

The more memories that arise, the more you settle down into a quiet corner of Bucharest, Romania. You two have stable jobs and a comfortable apartment that you fill with personalized knick knacks and comfy furniture.

It’s comfortable here. No trouble has arisen. It’s quiet.

Until it’s not.

There’s a strange man in the apartment.

The man is dressed in a red, white, and blue leathery looking uniform. He lacks a helmet, making no move to hide his identity. He tall and strong, the form fitting suit showing this off.

The strange man sits on the couch in the living room, which sits just out of sight if you were coming down the small foyer of the apartment.

The man warns you not to speak or call for help, gesturing to the kitchen when a woman in a black, form fitting suit comes through the kitchen doorway and into the living room.

Both strange people calmly gesture for you to sit in the small, plush chair that sits adjacent to the couch and in the view of the front door. They tell you to wait.

You do. You can’t do anything as you’re the only one of your companionship home. Well you can’t do anything physical, but you can leave a subtle sign.

You knock over your small messenger bag that you carry around, the contents spilling out. You apologize, making an excuse that you’re nervous as you watch three of your newly bought plums roll down the foyer and scatter along the hallway.

The two strangers nod and go back to quietly talking to each other.

The front door opens silently and you see James about to call out that he’s home but he’s distracted as his boot gently kicks a plum away from the door. He’s on alert almost instantly, looking up to see you sitting in an unusual spot. His eyebrows furrow and you can tell he’s listening to the voices that chatter between the living room and kitchen.

You slowly stretch your leg out towards the direction of the kitchen and pull it back, acting like you were just stretching after sitting for too long.

Bucky nods, moving silently down the hallway and into the kitchen from an entrance in the foyer.

“Umm.. Steve!” The unknown woman calls from the kitchen.

The strange man, Steve, responds from his spot on the couch. But he doesn’t move, seemingly unconcerned with his partner.

“Steve!” She calls again, her tone apprehensive and hurried.

Finally registering her tone, Steve leaps up and spins around to face the direction her voice is coming from. Before he can jump into action, the woman comes from your kitchen with her hands up.

Behind the woman follows James. He has a gun pointed to her head in his right, leather bound hand. He has a rather angry expression on his face, hostility swirling around in his blue orbs. James quickly glances over the two strangers before focusing on you, obviously looking you over to see if you’re injured.

You shake you head no, afraid to speak in the tense apartment.

You companion moves his attention back to the two strangers, eyeing them.

“Woah woah!” Steve puts his own hands up, in more of a “oh no. what do I do” way. “Calm down, you know us. You know me.”

“No I don’t,” James growls out, hand tightening around the gun.

Under the noise of attempted conversation, you can hear the shifts of metal and whirring of the mechanics in James’ metal arm. It’s hidden from sight under his jacket and leather glove, but you can still tell he’s flexing and adjusting the machine.

“Not even me?” The woman asks, her tone almost sultry but still panicked.

James grumbles out a “no” and shoves the gun into her head more, reminding them both who’s in charge right now.

“Bucky, it’s me,” Steve pleads again. “It’s Steve.”

James shifts his attention to the blond man.

“Who the hell is Bucky?”

Chapter Text

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

You can hear the squeak of leather as James' right, leather-gloved hand squeezes around the gun that he has pointed at the back of the strange, red-headed woman's head. He's looking past her to the man standing in front of him, at the 'Steve' guy, who's dressed in a leathery-textured red, white, and blue suit.

You're still sat in the plush, one-person chair that you and Bucky placed in the corner of the living room in your shared apartment. You're uninjured but frightened by the two strange people in your apartment.

"Steve, this is pointless," The woman that James has held at gunpoint speaks up. "He won't remember you. Not now. Not here. And we don't have much time. If we don't hurry up we may have to go Tony's route."

"But-" The blond man is cut off and looks like he's listening to someone speak, but no one is. "Sam-"

A brief shadow falls over the living room, almost as if a large bird flew by. It catches James' eyes and suddenly, he's sprung into action. He hits the strange woman upside the head with the butt of his gun and sweeps her feet from under her with one of his own. James shoots at the blond man, who blocks it with a matching red, white, and blue shield with a star in the middle that was strapped to his back.

James leaps over the back of your guys' couch and effortlessly moves it up onto its side, blocking you both from the gunshots that shower in through the living room windows. He mumbles to get your stuff and go, watching around the couch.

You follow James' request, scrambling for your messenger bag and stuffing the spilled contents back inside. You scurry down the hallway, picking up the stray plums and out the door. You stop short, seeing multitudes of armed men marching their way up the stairs.

You hear a few more gunshots from your apartment, the scraping of furniture, a crash and grunt before James joins you out in the hallway. He spots the approaching men and goes into the group headfirst, clearing the way for you both.

There's no way you can backtrack into your apartment and hide, or go up. It's not logical. Both of you know cornering yourself in your shared apartment or up on the rooftop isn't smart. Plus, the apartment rooftop is too high to jump from safely.

Both of you hurry down the stairs, and you're careful to duck and keep out of the way as James fights his way through with either his fists or his own handgun. You notice that his backpack is missing, you think to ask about it before you get cornered against the stair railing of the open stairwell of the apartment.

James grabs you and throws you over the railing. He has a secure grip onto your forearm as he swings you down onto the next level. You tuck and roll, something your companion taught you. Your roll into the wall, grunting a bit as your ribs hit the drywall. You stumble up just as your soldier throws himself down a few floors. You look over just in time to see him catch himself with his metal arm on the railing. He lets out a short scream and you're sure he over-extended his shoulder, but he's still able to use and move it as he pulls himself back up onto stable ground.

You back away from the edge of the railing as gunshots shoot up from below. You hurry your way down the steps of the apartment stairwell and eventually make your way to James, who fights off more military men. You catch him glancing towards the open path to outside and see a rooftop with James' backpack sitting atop it.

He grabs you once he's fought off the final man on this floor and makes his way towards the hallway he's been eyeing.

"There's a fire escape to the left," Your companion mumbles to you. "Take it. I'll meet you down there."

James urges you down the hallway first and you make your way down the metal fire escape just in time to watch James fly over your head and do his own tuck and roll onto the rooftop. You turn your head back to focus on your task of making your way down the fire escape.

You heard the irritated voices of soldiers inside the apartment, "They've separated!"

Just as you reach the first landing on the fire escape you catch someone leaning over the edge of the floor you're escaping from. You hear a shot come from above and you move to dodge whatever was coming your way, but not fast enough. A sharp pain slices it's way down your right arm and something hitting the metal fire escape sounds just by your feet. You hiss in pain and look at your arm. The sleeve of your shirt has a large, bloody slash through it and blood flows down your arm. A little silver object lays at your feet. You were shot at and, thankfully, the bullet only grazed you.

You have no choice but to keep making your way down the fire escape and down to the street, using both arms to climb down even though it hurts a lot. Once you reach the ground, you're not sure where to go. You can hear people coming at you from the right, around the corner of the building. You have no choice but to run to the bustling traffic on the left. You cringe with pain as your shoulder bounces with your steps and you cup your right shoulder with your left hand to hold it steady and to try and stop the heavy bleeding.

You pass under an overhang that attached to the building that James jumped onto. You're not sure if he's still inside or if he's already passed through, but since hostile soldiers are chasing after you, you're not sure if you have enough time to find out.

Just as you pass by the building, you're yanked back and twirled around by someone who grabs your right arm. You cry out in pain, trying to yank your arm from the person. When they don't let go, you look to see who it is.

It's James Barnes, whose steely blue eyes are focused on your injured shoulder. He looks up at your face, alarm and anger fighting in his blue eyes. His nostrils flare, and you're not sure whether its from anger or from him being winded.

A thump sounds from above.

You look up to see what made the noise but before you can get a good look, James pulls you away and into the bustling traffic of Romania. You protest, both against on the stress of your injured arm and the fear of getting hit by cars.

You both are running in the direction of the traffic and into a tunnel.

You struggle to keep up with your super soldier companion, stumbling over your feet.

You hear voices yelling at you both to stop behind you, sirens joining them shortly after. The sirens come closer and closer. Suddenly, a black van cuts you both off.

Bucky takes the initiative and hauls you both over four barrels that make up a part of the media. You're now facing opposing traffic. Your feet stutter with fear as Bucky pulls you into it, running towards the traffic to continue your original course.

A gunshot rings out and you feel something graze against your lower left thigh. Pain follows soon after the graze and you yelp, stumbling. Your arm slips from James' grasp as you fall onto the asphalt. You catch yourself with both hands, trying to put more pressure on your left, uninjured arm. Helpless on the ground, you're left watching a car hurtle its way in your direction.

It swerves to avoid you, but it's obvious to you that it wont avoid you in time. A body jumps in front of you and the person positions themselves to be a stationary battering ram to stop the car. Sparks fly and the door of the car crunches in as it crashes into the body.

James Barnes, your savior once again, turns and scoops you up. He throws you over his shoulder, holding you in place with his left hand. Your savior runs into the middle lane of opposing traffic and intercepts a motorcycle from a civilian, twirling it around and hiking a leg to set himself upon it. He takes off, keeping an iron grip on your thighs with his metal arm and driving with his right.

You can tell you're approaching the end of the tunnel with the light growing. You're left to watch as a group of black vans and super people chase after you. Below you, you feel James' left shoulder move and as you clear the tunnel's overpass and drive into the open air, the tunnel mouth collapses. From the rumble, you watch someone dressed in all black leap forward and catch his hand on the back tire of the motorcycle. The bike is thrown sideways, making you and James tumble sideways.

The crash separates you and James. You can feel your head hit the rough asphalt at one point during your tumble. Once you stop, you grab your head and blink roughly, your vision blurry. You try to get up, shaking your head to clear the ringing in your ears but you get shoved down, a rough leather boot pressing between your shoulder blades.

You watch as black vans surround you, stopping traffic and creating a clearing for soldiers dressed head to toe in black tactical gear to come and point guns at you and James. You move your head, titling it up to find James.

James is across from you, pined to the concrete with his hands behind his back. He's already looking at you through strands of hair and furrowed brows.

You whimper and cry out as your hands are pined between your shoulder blades and someone yanks you up by your wrists. You loose sight of your partner and your surroundings seem to pass by too fast and all blur together. You hear something cinch around your wrists and you're thrown into the back of one of the black vans, landing on your right shoulder.

All the running and the pain coursing through your body has left you tired, exhausted even. You make no move to sit up in the back seat or move off of your injured shoulder, instead just laying across the bench seat. You barely whimper as the van lurches into a drive. Youre not sure where you're going but you can't find yourself to care right now as you pass out from, hopefully, exhaustion.

You don't know how long you've been in the back of the van or where they've taken you, but you've become aware that you're stopped now and the van has been turned off. You're startled fully awake as the side door is practically torn open and you're hoisted up onto your feet. You stumble out of the van and onto concrete. You shake your head, trying to get your eyes to focus on your surroundings.

There's concrete all around. The vans you saw before were all parked out down here in various spots, the military people dressed in their black tactical gear were either milling about or unpacking the vans. A few of the people you'd seen chasing after you and James milled about as well, looking serious.

James.

Where is James?

You looked around but couldn't spot him.

Did they even bring him to the place where they brought you?

Suddenly, you were shoved forward by one of the people dressed in the black tactical gear and they muttered out a "walk."

You obeyed, not like you had a choice even though the gunshot graze on your left thigh still leaked. You still looked around, hoping that your partner would pop up anywhere.

"Hey," a slightly familiar voice sounded to your left. "I got it from here."

You looked towards the voice to see the red-headed woman from your apartment walking your way. You tensed, watching her lax movements.

The person in tactical gear that held you by your wrists let go and stalked off.

"Sorry about that," The woman disappeared behind you. "Let's get these off you."

You heard a jingle of keys and then whatever was tightened around your wrists let go.

You brought your wrists to your front and rubbed them in your hands, trying to rub away the ache. You examined them, a narrow red ring around your wrist. It almost looked like it might bruise in a few of the more sensitive spots of your wrist.

"Let's go get you cleaned up," The woman offered a smile and led you somewhere.

You followed her through the vans and into a brighter area of the large concrete room.

An ambulance sat there, its back doors open.

There were two men sitting on the back dock of it, but they stood and straightened as they saw the two of your approach.

"She had a couple of rough tumbles," The woman explained. "I want to get her checked out before we proceed with anything."

Proceed with what?

The two men helped you up into the back of the ambulance and settled you onto the cot placed in the back. They hooked you up to monitors and placed an iv into your arm, hooking you up to a bag of saline. One of the men flickered a small flash light into your eyes, you squinted against the harsh light. The other one squeezed some liquid into your iv tube with a syringe. Once set up, they dug around in the cabinets that were built into the back dock of the ambulance and fished out supplies to stitch up your bullet wound grazes. They lifted up the arm of your shirt, bunching the sleeve at your shoulder.

As they got started on sanitizing the area and stitching your right shoulder, the woman struck up a conversation.

"You speak english?" She asked.

You nodded, staring at her.

"I'm Natasha," She introduced. "I work with SHIELD, or I did. Have you heard of SHIELD?"

You nodded again, remember hearing the organization being mentioned around the Siberian HYDRA base.

"Did Bucky find you, or did you find Bucky?" The red-headed woman, Natasha, asked. She used that name that the blond guy used..

You weren't sure how to answer that question so you stayed silent.

Natasha stared before trying again, "How long have you know Bucky?"

"A long time," You answered, your voice hoarse from being out of use for who knows how long.

"More than a two years?" She asked.

You nodded.

Natasha squinted her eyes for a second before asking, "Where did you two find each other?"

You hesitated, "In the Siberian HYDRA base."

The two men stitching you up stuttered their movements but continued.

"So," The woman paused. "You know about SHIELD and HYDRA."

You nodded once again.

"And... you know about the Winter Soldier?" Natasha continued.

"He saved me from there," You told her. "Something happened at the base. Everyone was distracted. James got me out, got us out. We ran."

Natasha only blinked, surprised, before continuing to press for information, "Do you know how or why we found you?"

You shook your head.

"A little bit of HYDRA is still active," She told you. "They got a ping on Bucky in Romania, but so did we. We had to get to Bucky before HYDRA got to Bucky. We didn't know he had a- uh... you."

"Why do you need James?" You asked your own question.

"Steve," Natasha started. That blond man she called out to. "Steve and Bucky were friends, childhood friends. Steve found out Bucky was alive a few years back. HYDRA still had him, but Steve searched and searched for him anytime he could. When we got the ping in Romania, we knew we had to rescue Bucky and get him back to Steve. But.. he doesn't remember Steve, does he?"

You shook your head.

"But he's getting some of his memories back, right?" Natasha asked. "Is that why you call him James?"

You nodded.

"Does he have any other memories?" Natasha asked again.

You nodded again, "Some from when he was growing up, and the war. He knows he was a Sergeant. He knows his first and last name but all he knows about his middle name is that it starts with a 'B'."

"Does he remember being the Winter Soldier?" Natasha asked, almost hesitantly.

"Yes," You answered. "He remembers everything."

Natasha previously blank look on her face turned to something akin to sorrow.

You weren't entirely sure why.

Did her and James have a past that you didn't know about?

Natasha goes quiet, crossing her arms and training her gaze to watch the two first responders operate on your wounds.

The two men have to cut off your pants to get to the wound on your leg, promising you a pair of sweats when they're done. They both work diligently, stitching your skin together with thread. One works one your leg and another on your left eyebrow from when you hit your head on the asphalt.

Thankfully your head wound doesn't need stitches, but they pull the wound together with thin, white bandages.

After the men get you all stitched and bandaged up, they give you the pair of sweatpants promised and send you on your way, unhooking the iv from your arm.

You follow Natasha to the actual inside of whatever building you were at, limping your way after her. You looked around as well, trying to spot your companion but to no avail.

You and Natasha take an elevator up a lot of floors, almost as many as your apartment in Romania. You follow her to a room made of glass, which has large, glass table in the center with a lot of black chairs around it and a wall of screens against the far wall.

A couple men are already in the room, one you recognize as the blond man that was with Natasha in your apartment. They're all looking at the multitudes of screens.

As you two join the men, Natasha pulls up a chair for you to sit in. You take the offer, bracing yourself with a shaky arm down into the chair.

"What is she doing here?" A tall, older man with white hair asks gruffly.

"She's not a danger to us," Natasha answered.

"She's an accomplice," The man points out.

"A harmless one at that," Natasha defends.

The older man huffs, paying attention to the screens.

You take a look at the screens yourself and one instantly catches your eye.

It's James.

It looks like he's been placed in this reinforced glass box and that he's been strapped back into his chair with metal reinforcements down over his shoulders and metal across his wrists. Across from the box sits a man at a table, a journal in front of him and a pencil in his hand.

"Hello James," The man starts. "I'm Theo Broussard, a psychiatrist. Do you know where you are?"

"No," James answers gruffly, his expression irritated and angry.

"You're in Berlin, Germany," Theo Broussard answers. "Let's get started with the simpler stuff, do you know your full name?"

"James Barnes," James answers.

Theo waits for more before asking, "Do you know your middle name?"

"No," James answers shortly.

"Your full name is James Buchanan Barnes," Theo tell him. "How much of your past do you know?"

"Not a lot," James admits shortly. "Some stuff from my childhood, my parents, school, where I lived."

"Do you remember the war, James?" Theo asks.

"Some of it," James hesitates. "I was a Sergeant. And then I wasn't. I fell."

Theo nods, writing some stuff down in his journal before looking back up at Bucky, "Do you remember Steve Rogers?"

James pauses, "Maybe. He was short though, scrawny. Liked to pick fights. He had a nickname for me.. I don't remember it."

"Bucky," Theo answers.

At the name call, James grimaces and shakes his head.

"I remember," James mutters. "I was gone. Steve saved me but he was big, different. Taller now."

Theo nods.

James huffed, eyebrows furrowed. His hands clenching and unclenching.

"Do you remember being the Winter Soldier?" Theo asks hesitantly, slowly.

"All of it," James mutters.

"All of it?" Theo asks to confirm. "All of your missions?"

"All the deaths," James practically spits out the last word, clenching his metal hand into a fist.

"And what about your..," Theo paused, not sure how to frame the question. "Accomplice."

"My partner," James corrects quickly. "Where is she? Is she alright?"

He looks around, peering around the metal contraption that holds him down.

"I'm sure she is," Theo responds, writing something down.

James narrows his eyes at the psychiatrist, "Is she alright?"

"Well she hit her head pretty hard, James-" Theo starts.

"-Bucky," James corrects.

"..Bucky," Theo pauses. "When she fell from that motorcycle. I'd be surprised if she's even awake right now, much less in the hospital."

James, Bucky, hangs his head, hair dropping to cover his face from view of the camera. He continues with, what you know notice as a nervous tick, clenching and unclenching his hands.

Theo Broussard continues his light integration, asking about you. He asks about you and the conversation goes much similarly to the one you had with Natasha, just with more words.

You see that James refused to meet the psychiatrist's eyes when talking about you.

James doesn't know what happened to you or how you are right now. You're crowding his brain and he's itching to break free from these restraints and go hunt you down and take care of you himself.

You watch the footage, intrigued with the interview. Until the footage stutters and the lights above you flicker and flicker until they go out.

The people around you mumble, looking around.

The tall, older man from before puts a finger up to his ear, "Get me eyes on Barnes." He orders somebody. "And evacuate the building, get these civilians out of here. We could be under attack."

You hear a woman muttered behind you, "Level 5. East wing."

The blond man, who stood to your right, and another man dart out of the room. They follow a blonde woman you hadn't seen when you and Natasha came in the room.

Natasha grabs your left arm, your good one, and help you up out of the chair, "C'mon, we gotta get out of here."

You meet Natasha's urgent gaze and follow her out of the room and down and around the maze of hallways. And you try to run and keep up with her, you do. But your brain is still fuzzy and whatever the two paramedics gave you for the pain is starting to wear off, so with every limp you fall behind more and more.

But you follow her all the way to the stair well, which you hesitant at the top of. You know they won't be fun to go down. But you keep following, wincing with every step.

Natasha leads you all the way down the many flights of stairs and erupts into the ground floor and out into the main lobby that sits at the entrance to the building. She shoves you behind a pillar at the sound crashing glass, something hitting a wall hard, and a grunt from someone.

Civilians scatter by, screaming and yelling in fear.

"Okay," Natasha mutters. "Now!"

She grabs you hand and drags you out into the open, dodging around agents and guards. She forces you both to follow the group of civilians, trying to get you to catch up.

As you run, you step on something that rolls and gives under your feet. You stumble and fall, your hand slipping from Natasha's. You yelp and of course you land on your bad leg. You try to catch yourself with both hands, but end up compensating your weight on your right arm, which gives out with a flash of pain.

You hear Natasha curse, first under her breathe and then out loud. Before you can look around to see what pulled such a reaction from her, a shadow looms over you.

It's James!

Above you, he holds one of the tactical-clad men from up off the floor by their neck. James rips the baton from man's hand and throws the man to the side with ease, dropping the baton to the ground beside you.

In an instant, you're up in James' arms with a tight hold, which constricts ever so slightly when he's got you fully off the ground. He sets you down gently, holding you by the biceps and looking down at you with his blue eyes. But there's something off..

"Oh, любимый," He mutters. Darling. "Вы в безопасности." You're safe.

It's the Soldier.

"Oh James," You reach up and pull him down for a hug, squeezing him tight.

And almost as if a light switch goes off, you feel James shake his head as if to clear it.

"How-how did you get out?" You ask, though you think you know the answer.

"That man had my.. had the Soldier's trigger words in the file he had on me," James pulls back from the hug to look at you. "He didn't speak very good Russian though."

"Are you okay?" You ask, looking him over.

James nods, "I am now. Are you?"

Relief takes over his features for a moment but concern crowds in. James pulls back more, looking you over. He peels back the right sleeve of your shirt, looking at your bandage and then his gaze falls down to your sweatpants. His brows furrow. Then he's looking up at your face, zeroing in on the bandages. James brings a hand up to your face, thumbing over your eyebrow gently.

You wince at the contact, the wound still fresh.

"Sorry," he mutters.

"It's alright," You say back just as quietly.

Before your little reunion can continue, a voice calls out.

"Bucky."

Steve and a few others stand between you two and the entrance to the building.

James straightens up, his flesh hand falling from your face to your left shoulder. His soft gaze turns to stone, assessing the situation.

You both feel like frightened and cornered animals. There's no where to go. You're in an unfamiliar place in an unfamiliar town and that scares both of you. You can run, but for how long.

"Bucky," Steve calls again, taking a step forward. "It's me, Steve. Do you remember now?"

James nods, gripping your shoulder just a hair tighter.

"Did they tell you why we're here for you?" Steve asks.

"Because HYDRA's after me," James answers, voice gruff compared to the soft tone he used with you just moments prior.

"That's right, Buck," Steve nods. "We're gonna keep you safe. Get you the help you need. No more running."

James looks down at you, waiting for a nonverbal answer from you.

You think. No more running. That sounds... nice.

You look up at James and give a subtle nod.

"No more running," James says back, letting out a sigh.

Steve starts to walk forward towards you both.

James starts to go to meet him half way but he steps back, his hand never leaving your arm. His relaxed gaze goes firm again.

"My partner comes with," James practically demands, meeting Steve's gaze with a challenge.

"Of course," Steve reassures, looking at you and nodding.

James' features soften again and he continues on his way to meet Steve half way in the lobby.

You turn to follow James, his right hand dropping to grip your right bicep gently in his large, metal hand.

At your rather pacific advance into the group, they put you two in a car with Steve and a man named Sam and follow the others to an airport.

At the airport, they take you to where a hangar has a private jet sitting inside.

It's rather fancy inside, though it's not like you've been in a plane before, with a newly cleaned carpet and chairs that swivel around to face each other. There's pullout tables and an open bar in the back of the plane.

The group, and their two new additions, get settled in the place and get seated as it starts to drive around the taxiways to find a runway to take off at.

You watch the outside curiously, hands to yourself right now. But as the plane reaches a runway and speeds up quite suddenly, you grab for James, who is sat beside you. You look up at him when you tightly grasp his hand, watching for his reaction nervously.

Bucky is calm and gives you a comforting smile, giving your hand a squeeze.

If he's relaxed, then you can be too.

As the plane takes off, Bucky settles into conversation with Steve, catching up like old pals (which they are technically). And even engages in some banter with Sam.

You settle for staring out the window on your left with James's hand in yours giving an occasional squeeze to let you know that he remembers you're still there beside him.

Chapter Text

It's been about five months since your initial escape from the Siberian HYDRA facility. Most of those months had been spent traveling through the Russian city-states and slowly moving down south before finally settling down in Romania. You and Bucky milled about in Romania, trying to find somewhere quiet enough to settle down but busy enough to blend into. That somewhere was Bucharest. You'd found a little corner in the city to settle down in, somewhere that wouldn't overwhelm your senses but would hide you from the vast majority if someone came looking.

Settling down was... hard, at times. There were pros and cons at the beginning of your new life. Pros such as how easy it was to find a rather affordable apartment based on what little you and Bucky had between the both of you, and how easy it was to find jobs that suited both your needs and your wants. You yourself had gotten a job at a local library as a receptionist and occasionally putting books back in their shelves. Bucky had gotten a job somewhere stocking things in the back, leaving him to have the daily minimum of contact with other people.

Cons of settling down and living somewhere new, somewhere not in the middle of a forest, was how loud it really was. With no carpet, rugs, or really any furniture at first, there was nothing to soften the sounds from outside. Cars were constantly driving through the streets below, the loud and occasional honks scaring you both. The voices of people walking the sidewalks below and the stomps and thumps from your surrounding neighbors left you both constantly on edge, fearing that HYDRA had found your hiding spot.

Both of you dealt with nightmares as well, reliving the torture and fear that was inflicted upon you in the underground base. Bucky often awoke with a start, sitting up and holding out the knife that he kept holstered around his right thigh. When he came to, his heart thundering in his chest, he looked around to see no one there. The only other person in the bare bedroom was you, looking up at him with wide eyes. When you were startled awake from your own nightmares, you didn’t have such a defensive approach. You often woke with a stuttering heartbeat and adrenaline coursing through your veins, tears streaming down your face. In your fearful, primal state, you forgot where you were and scrambled up from your sleep spot on the floor to a nearby corner. You shuddered and sobbed, holding your knees close and covering your head with your arms. Upon hearing approaching footsteps, you’d hold your palms up, begging for mercy, please.

Bucky, thankfully, knew how to approach the situation. He knew how you felt in those moments, as he both helped you out of this state many times and experienced the situation himself often. He’d get your attention and bring you into his arms, whispering how it’s okay, you’re safe. When you stopped shaking, Bucky would bring you back into your combined blankets and pillows and lay you down. He kept a hand on you as you settled down, promising to stay up and keep watch.

Dealing with weather was hard too. There weren’t windows in the Siberian base and it was underground so no weather. No rain. No snow. No thunder. So your first thunderstorm was quite the experience. It happened in the middle of the night. Loud, window rattling booms startled you both awake at the same time. Bucky sat up, hand splaying across your chest to keep you down. After making a round, or three, around the apartment, Bucky figured out the sound was coming from outside. He vaguely remembered storms from his past, the way the thunder would rattle his childhood home’s windows and how he would watch the rain streak down the windows. Bucky, calm now, would show you his discovery. He’d hold you up to a window and show you the outside, pointing out things he remembered.

Despite showing you that weather was a normal and okay thing, you didn’t get a wink of sleep during your first few thunderstorms or heavy rainstorms.

You both settled down slowly, so slowly. But it was easy with the semi-normal routine of a job. Slowly, the apartment became a new safe space as you added the necessary furniture, copying things you’d seen in magazines or from passing glances into your neighbors’ open apartments. Your shared apartment was no longer blank walls or empty floors, now there were actual places to sit instead of the floor and stuff to use instead of whatever you found around. And the bed was nice, even if you still thought it was too soft. It was like you and Bucky discovered a miracle after sleeping on the bed the first night. Neither of you had to stretch away the aches and pains every morning after sleeping. Like woah! Is this how everyone feels?

Along with sharing the singular, new bed in the only bedroom in the apartment, you and Bucky shared a lot more other things. Like food, drinks, blankets, pillows, clothes, the bathroom, and even sometimes showers (cause water conservation and all). All off which slowly evolved into sharing something a little more. Something more… primal, intimate even.

It had started when you’d accidentally cut your finger while chopping something up for dinner. Just a small cut. Nothing too bad. But Bucky had insisted that he help patch you up. So you found yourself sitting on the bathroom counter, finger cleaned and wrapped, with Bucky standing between your parted legs. He held your injured hand with his flesh one and your cheek with his metal one. You watched as his eyes flickered between yours before he leaned in, connecting your lips. Bucky pulled away abruptly, apologies building up on his vocal cords, but you pulled him back in for more.

That’s how you ended up in bed with Bucky more than once. Despite sharing a shower and seeing each other naked before, both your hands shook as you pulled up shirts and unbuttoned jeans. This was new territory, figuring out what made each other tick and what didn’t. It was easy, but nerve wracking. Especially since you kept avoiding the topic of sex. You’d almost gotten there a few times, but always held back as you and Bucky shared nervous glances before backing away with heated cheeks. The idea of the action of sex, of your genitalia touching, was a boundary neither of you really knew how to cross (because grinding didn’t really count, right?).

Thankfully, the intimacy never impacted your relationship and comfort in each other. If anything, it allowed you two to grow closer and trust each other more. The ability and trust to take what you needed, when you needed, was something you could give each other. It was nice.

Even now.

Home alone and you can’t stop thinking of Bucky, or as you knew him, James. James was always on your mind, no matter the time of day. Which had led you to make two mugs of tea on this chilly, Romanian day. You knew a nice, warm cup of tea would help Bucky relax after a day of heavy lifting.

You didn’t hear the front door squeak open over the whistling of the tea kettle on the stove, nor the almost silent latch of the deadbolt locking into place. But as you poured the steaming water into two mugs, your ears picked up on the soft thudding of boots walking down the short foyer and into the living room. You listened as something slid against fabric and then thudded to the ground, and then as the footsteps came closer.

Two arms wrapped around your midsection, startling you a bit.

“Well, hello to you too, James,” You greeted, unwrapping the tea leaf packets from the paper that held them.

James grumbled out a quiet “hello” as he moved the hair from the right side of your neck. The graze of his gloved hand caused goosebumps to erupt on your skin. Before you could continue greeting him, James shoved his very cold face into your very warm neck.

You shrieked and jumped away, or tried to as his arms kept you in place, and you dropped the tea leaf packets onto the counter.

“James!” You scolded as he buried his face deeper into your skin. “Your face is cold!!”

“Quit squirming,” James mumbled lowly, voice vibrating against your skin.

You gave up, knowing your chances of escape are futile. You picked up the discarded tea packets and dropped them into the two mugs, watching as the clear water took on a green hue. You dropped a hand down to one of James’ forearms and gave it a comforting squeeze, rubbing your thumb over the fabric of his jacket.

“How was work?” You asked, glancing to the side at his face but his black baseball cap blocked your view.

He grumbled something, pressing both his body and face closer to you.

You hummed in response, giving James his seemingly mandatory cuddle time.

“Missed you,” James said after a minute, pulling away from your neck just a fraction but coming back in to pepper kisses against your skin.

“I missed you too,” You responded, still rubbing your thumb over his covered forearm. “I- oh!”

Just as you started to speak, James both pulled you into him and pressed into you more for just a second. It was just enough to feel the stiffness that pressed against the zipper of James’ jeans.

You gripped his forearm as James’ peppered kisses against your neck turned into open-mouthed ones, leaving your neck cold and wet. You bit your lip as heat started to bubble under your skin. Your hold on your own composure crumbled as James added teeth and tongue, a whimper passing through your lips.

“Need you,” James mumbled between bites.

He unwrapped his hands from your midsection and you watched as he peeled off his leather gloves and set them on the counter. His hands were back on you, making their way down your hips and under your shirt, goosebumps erupting on your skin in their wake as the man’s hands smoothed up your sides. James’ hands found your breasts instantly, thumbing your hardening nipples over the soft fabric of your bra.

“Need me, Sergeant?” You asked, voice tilting a little bit.

You learned awhile back that James was in a war. He didn’t remember which one, but he remembered he was a Sergeant. This memory had earned your companion a new nickname, one he very much liked hearing from your lips.

James growled, pinching your nipples in retort, making your cry out. He dragged his large hands back down your sides and around to your front.

You felt a tug at your jeans and the sound of the zipper being pulled down. A few more tugs and the waist of your jeans slackened as they were unbuttoned. You felt your companion’s hands dip down under both your jeans and underwear, and your skin tightened with goosebumps as the fabric was pushed down to your mid-thighs. You whimpered again as you felt two, warm, fleshy fingers dip between your thighs and part your sensitive folds, dragging up from your entrance to your clit.

“So wet already,” James murmured, sucking down on a spot on your neck.

You sucked in a breath as James’ two fingers circled your clit slowly. You gripped the wrist of his left hand, which settled on your waist. Tight whines escapes your vocal cords, head growing dizzy as you forgot to breathe.

“Breathe, sweetheart,” James reminded you, knowing that you got caught up in the moment too much sometimes.

You let out your breath, throwing your head back to rest against James’ shoulder. You moaned and whined as James continued his ministrations, still kissing the skin of your exposed neck as well. Heat rolled and boiled underneath your skin, simmering hot in your lower abdomen.

“Fuck- James,” You moaned as your companion sped up his fingers.

You could feel the hot stickiness leak down from your center and make a mess between the tops of your thighs. You never could figure out how James made such a mess of you when you couldn’t even do it yourself. It was your world’s biggest mystery.

Your legs shook as your body temperature rose. In an effort to ground yourself, you reached your right hand up and back to grasp at James, smooshing his face into your skin, and your left still gripped his left wrist.

Just as tension began to build in your lower abdomen, James pulled away.

You whined at the loss of contact and opened your mouth to protest but paused as you heard the familiar and exciting clink of a belt being undone. Your mouth started to water with excitement and you moved to turn around-

“Stay,” James ordered gruffly.

You obeyed.

James’ belt jingled as he undid the rest of his jeans and shoved them down just enough to get his stiff cock out. He placed his cooling, left hand on your hip and with his right he maneuvered his cock to settled between your thighs.

You both groaned at the contact, the feeling of him sliding against and bullying his way between your soaked lips. You gasped out as the head of his cock nudged and glided over your clit.

Once James’ pelvis was pressed right up your ass did he then sink his body back into yours, stuffing his face back in your neck and hugging around your midsection with his strong arms.

He pulled his hips back as much as he could in this position before sinking back in between your thighs. James started off with a slow pace, groaning at the feel of your warmness. He licked and nipped at your neck, soothing the area with open-mouthed kisses. Then he sped up, setting a steady pace that had your hips knocking against the countertop.

You held your right arm against the cabinets at your head, guarding yourself from knocking your head into the wood. And your left hand grasped at James’ jacket, desperate to hold on to him in some way.

Steadily, the tightness in your lower abdomen built up again. And oh so desperate for release, you ground your hips back into him, moaning and cussing from how good it felt.

Just before your peak, you managed to squeak, “fuck- James- James, I’m close. So close. I’m-”

With another thrust and nudge against your throbbing clit, the tension in your lower abdomen snapped. You came with a cry and James’ name repeatedly on your tongue.

James rode you through it, squeezing you closer to him as he sucked yet another mark into your neck. He didn’t relent as you started twitching from oversensitivity, chasing after his own pleasure now.

“James, I-“ You stuttered out, tongue heavy and brain foggy.

“No, you can take it,” James growled against you, keeping up his pace.

“No, James, I- I need more,” You managed to get out through your ragged breaths.

“More?” James asked, almost teasingly. “Doll, I’ll make you cum as many times as you want. I-“

You cut him off, “No. James. I need you inside.”

“Inside?” His hips stuttered, knowing what you meant.

“Please,” You turned your head to the side to catch James’ blue eyes that shone underneath his black baseball cap. “Please. I- I need you to fuck me, Sergeant.”

There was that nickname again. The nickname that made his chest feel light and that caused his dick to pulse. He couldn’t deny you now.

With barely any hesitation, if any at all, James picked you up from where he had you around your midsection and carried you to your shared bedroom. He dropped you on the bed, the springs protesting cause of the sudden weight.

You turned around, watching as James shoved his jeans down more and stepped out of them. You eyed his cock, shiny with your slick and the red head dripping with precum. You mouth watered and you almost thought about taking back your demand to have James’ cock in your mouth instead. But you didn’t have much of a choice as James pulled your jeans and underwear off you, shoving them to the ground to join his pair.

“Up,” James ordered with a tilt of his head.

You obeyed, backing up the bed until you reached the pillows.

You watched as James shed his jacket and hat, and practically tore off his two shirts, leaving his full body on display. You observed his scars and watched as his muscles rippled as his moved. As he crawled up to you, his metal arm’s plates clicked against each other. You thought about begging him to turn you around and put you in a chokehold with his metal arm, smiling as he squeezed only enough to make you light-headed. But your thought was interrupted as James undressed the rest of you, throwing your remaining clothes to the side of the bed.

He pushed you to lay down, his large, right hand splayed between your breasts. James sat between your spread legs and dragged his fleshy pointed and middle fingers against your center, gathering up your messy slick. He trailed down, eyeing you before pressing a finger into your entrance.

“James, I want-“ You try.

“Gotta open you up, doll,” James reasoned. “I’m too big for this small cunt.”

He sunk down to his knuckle, pulling out before easing back in.

James had fingered you before, so it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. But he was right. If he didn’t open you up with his fingers first, he might split you in two.

You gripped the sheets below you, moaning as your lower muscles sucked James’ finger in.

“More please,” You begged once you’d gotten used to the one finger.

James pulled out and lined up his middle finger and slowly sunk both fingers in, knowing that this was always a stretch.

You screwed your eyes shut and gripped the sheets harder at the stretch of two fingers that sunk down to the knuckle. As James began to move, the sting of the stretch turned into pleasure.

James watched as you took his two fingers well, gripping your squishy thigh with his left hand. The plates of his medal arm shifted and clinked as if they had a mind of their own, as if they anticipated the future events.

Once you’d relaxed under his touch and responded well to any subtle change in his fingers, James deemed you ready.

“You ready?” James asked, still pumping his fingers inside of you.

You opened your eyes and focused on James thick cock, its head still dripping precum down onto the sheets. You felt a shy heat burrow into your cheeks and you looked up at James with apprehensive eyes.

“Nervous?” James could tell. He could read you like a book.

You nodded.

“It’s just me, sweet thing,” James purred, his fingers slowing down. “I got you. And hey, I’m nervous too.”

“Really?” You asked, breath stuttering in time with the soft thrusts of James’ fingers.

“Really,” James nodded. “I’m only ready if you’re ready though, doll.”

“I’m- I’m ready,” You decided, heart hammering behind your ribcage.

“Okay,” James nodded.

He pulled his two fingers out slowly, moving that same hand to rub your slick against the taut skin of his cock. James moved closer to rub himself against your sensitive center, eyes flickering between your face and where you two touched. Once his cock head notched against your entrance, he looked at you, waiting.

You nodded.

Before he moved, he gave you his left hand to grab onto.

You did with both of your hands, which shook with nervousness.

Then, with his right hand gripping the base of himself, James moved forward just enough until the head of his cock popped in.

You hissed, squeezing his hand tighter.

“Okay?” James asked.

“Hurts,” You whimpered, a shake to your voice.

“It’s gonna hurt,” James told you. “I’m sorry. You wanna keep going?”

You nodded.

Slowly, ever so slowly, James sunk in. It took a couple of stops, check-ins, and reassurances before James was buried to the hilt in you. His chest moved with even breaths as his right hand gripped your hip. You were both pelvis to pelvis now.

“The hardest part is over, doll,” James murmured, sitting up as he watched you. “I’ll move when you’re ready.”

You gave yourself a few moments, waiting as the sting of the stretch died down into something a little better. Your breath was still a little ragged due to both nervousness and the situation. You still held onto James’ left hand and listened as the metal plates of his left arm shifted and adjusted against themselves.

“Okay,” You finally breathed out. “Ready.”

James nodded and moved to hover over you. He shifted inside you a bit, causing you to flinch. His blue eyes watched for face, looking for any apparent sign to stop.

“You’re alright,” James murmured, his lips grazing against yours. “I’ve got you.”

James started with a slow pace, getting you used to the unnatural feeling of being as close as humanly possible. His lips connected with yours and he drank in your whimpers and whines.

At the feeling of his tongue making its way over your bottom lip, you opened your mouth and let him in. You groaned at the taste of him, letting go of the sheets below you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, gripping your companion as best you could. You could feel yourself relaxing against James, moans finally slipping past your lips as you let go.

James sped up a bit. He gripped your thigh with his flesh hand, moving them to wrap around his waist so he had more leverage to move. Your companion leaned down more, moving to hold you close with his right arm and bury his face in your neck. He breathed you in, breath stuttering with each of his thrusts. James couldn’t help but moan at the feel of you, how your short nails dug into his skin and how the stickiness coated his pelvis with every push into you. He set a steady pace, but couldn’t help to grip the pillow your head laid on with his left hand cause he knew if he went any faster it might be too much for you.

“Oh fuck, James,” You moaned out, stuffing your face into his neck.

“Doing so good, doll,” James reassured you, biting his own tongue as he felt a pressure build. “You feel so good.”

James kept the steady pace, listening as your skin clapped against each other. He groaned, nipping at the skin of your neck and gripping your ribcage from behind with his right hand, as that arm was wrapped around your back.

The heat spiked in your lower abdomen at the feeling of your companion’s large hand gripping you. You nails dug into his back, catching on the rippling muscles.

The tension still built in James’ lower abdomen, building until the point where it was almost too much. His thrusts sped up just a tid-bit, growing sloppy as he tried to hold his limited composure.

“Fuck- doll- my sweet thing- I’m gonna-” James sputtered out, his grip on your side tightening. “Inside or out?”

Despite your fuzzy brain, you barely heard his question. It took a moment before it fully registered in your brain.

“Inside,” You told him, tightening the grip your legs had around his waist.

“You sure?” James checked, barely hanging on.

You nodded, holding him close.

Just like that, James’ composure crumpled. He thrusted roughly into you, groaning out as his teeth clamped down on your neck. He practically sobbed out, breath catching in his throat as he cussed through his teeth.

You could feel him throbbing inside you, spilling thick seed into your deepest part.

James slowed down little by little, finally coming down from his orgasmic high. He stayed inside you, jerking with overstimulation and sensitivity. He held you close, unclamping his teeth from your neck. He gave the area a couple soothing kisses before pulling away and out of you.

You could feel fluid slipping out of you, no doubt making a mess down on the sheets.

“Messy,” You mumbled, glancing down to James’ softening, cum covered cock before closing your eyes and relaxing down into your pillow.

James settled down beside you on his back before pulling you over into your side and into him. He let out a content grumble, rubbing his hand over your back.

“You okay?” He asked, voice rumbly in his chest under your ear.

“I’m okay,” You told him, settling against his cold metal arm and wrapping your own arm around his abdomen.

James went quiet for a moments before speaking again, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” You reassured, patting his chest. “You know that.”

“Yeah,” He let out a small chuckle. “But I still gotta say thank you, doll.”

You only hummed in response, snuggling into your large soldier. But with a start, you sat up as you remembered something.

“Your tea!” You met James’ startled blue eyes, but they danced with amusement when he realized what you were talking about.

“Doll, we can worry about that later,” James shook his head as he pulled you back down. “Just let me hold you.”

“Okay,” You relented, letting James pull you back into his warm body.

You two laid there for who knows how long, just basking in each other’s presence as the sun slowly slid down the sky.