Sharon Carter (
from_the_outside) wrote2022-03-30 05:39 pm
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[Leipzig AU] good for trouble
Busan glitters like a disco ball in the night, and no one gives them a second glance as they stroll through the fish market, Sharon in her white dress on Ross's arm, the rest of the team behind them. "Sophia," she says, warmly, and exchanges air kisses with the woman, her pink visor and plastic apron both bright. She knows to expect them, and after she pats Sharon fondly on the cheek, she nods them through.
They spread out through the casino, the team's voices low in her ear. She stays by Ross, playing the part of arm candy, applauding when he wins and consoling him when he loses.
There's no sign of Klaue yet, and the metal briefcase full of diamonds stays locked to the wrist of one of the other agents. "I'm going to get a drink," Sharon murmurs to Ross, and makes her way through the crowd to the bar.
The martinis here are fine, but not as good as Nat's.
They spread out through the casino, the team's voices low in her ear. She stays by Ross, playing the part of arm candy, applauding when he wins and consoling him when he loses.
There's no sign of Klaue yet, and the metal briefcase full of diamonds stays locked to the wrist of one of the other agents. "I'm going to get a drink," Sharon murmurs to Ross, and makes her way through the crowd to the bar.
The martinis here are fine, but not as good as Nat's.
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She can't keep her eyes closed, has to open them to drink him in, adoring and more than a little desperate as she kisses him back. "Every day," she tells him back. "I never stopped thinking about you. God, I wanted to teleport here somehow, be right next to you, wake up and see you – "
She kisses him again and again, shifts to kiss his jaw, his throat, driving her fingers into his hair and gripping.
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Bucky reaches the foot of the bed and braces his knee on it, leaning over to lower her to the quilt, her hair spilling over his hand like a golden cloud.
"I need you," he whispers. "Sharon, baby, I need you."
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It's all too overwhelming; she wraps her arms around his neck and draws him down with her as her back hits the mattress, finding his mouth for another kiss, deep and drowning.
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"T'Challa called me from the flyer," he tells her, between kisses. "To tell me what had happened." As he talks, his hand finds the fastening of the jumpsuit and he begins to tease it open. "I asked to see you, and he showed me. You were so badly hurt, baby, I thought--"
He stops there to kiss her again, wild and wanting.
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In the few coherent thoughts she had after being hit. "All I wanted was to be able to see you again. Somehow."
And, miracle of miracles, she had. And so much more – she's fine, absolutely fine. A little tired, but there's nothing left of the pain or fear or weakness. She wriggles beneath him, shoving the straps of the jumpsuit off her shoulders and down over her arms before she reaches for his shirt, tugging it towards his head. "Baby, please – "
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Bucky pulls her jumpsuit the rest of the way down and slides it over her hips, then down her legs and off, dropping it to the floor.
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"You," she says, and presses her mouth to his throat, where his pulse is jumping. "I need you."
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"You have me," he promises, when the kiss breaks, each word low and rough with desire. "I'm yours."
Bucky kisses her again, then trails more kisses back along her jawline and down her throat as he curves his right hand over her body, petting and stroking.
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She pushes her head back into the purple throw, enveloped in him, his scent all around her, and runs one hand into his hair, the other down along the long beautiful line of his back. She can't stop stroking and touching him, touch-starved and needy.
Beneath his lips on her skin, her pulse is flying, beating strong and quick, leaving her flushed and breathless and shivering.
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As he does, he runs his hand over the curve of her breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb, then back down along her side to the swell of her hip and lower. He cups the center of her and tweaks the sensitive bud between his fingers, circling and pressing.
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"Yes," she breathes, and slips her fingers between his legs to stroke along his length. "Bucky, yes."
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"Take all of me."
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"Have all of me back."
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"Sharon," he murmurs between kisses, raw and uneven and with his whole heart in each word. "My sunshine, my sweetheart, mine. And I'm yours. I'm yours."
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She winds her leg with his and wraps her arm around his back as shivers rush through her, over and over, as they stoke the fire that's been banked for too long. "My sweet man," she murmurs, her kisses deep and desperate. "God, I'm never letting you out of my sight again."
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"And good. Don't. Stay with me, as long as you can," he tells her, and kisses her again, fierce and wanting, pressing deep and starting to move faster. "Stay. I've missed you so much, baby."
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Words begin to fracture as he moves faster, pushes them further, as pleasure ripples through her. "I want to be with you, I want to stay... Bucky, please – "
His name is a low cry as she pushes her face into the crook of his neck, clinging to him as she rocks up beneath him like waves rolling toward shore. Every overwhelmed feeling, every moment of missing him, has her hands running over his body, has her kissing him with every ounce of longing she's felt over these long, long weeks.
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Every muscle tightens, every nerves lights, tingling and sparkling, as she cries out and allows herself to ride the edge, as she squeezes him and grips her fingers into his hair, hard and firm, trying to bring him with her.
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Shivering in her arms, he clings to her as she does to him, cradling her close, unwilling to let her go.
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"Oh my god," she says, a lightly hysterical giggle in her voice. "I really needed that."
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"Makes two of us," he murmurs.
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"I meant it, you know," she murmurs, drawing light patterns on his skin with her fingertips. "I already asked Nakia if she thought I could stay for a while."
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"What did she say?"
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"She said yes," she tells him. "She thinks T'Challa will let me stay a while."
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