Sharon Carter (
from_the_outside) wrote2021-05-21 08:31 am
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[oom] an indentation in the shape of you
Her room is closer. If he had to get up to take care of the goats, she'd walk them back down to the little hut by the lake, but K'Senge will still come by in the morning, and her room is closer.
"Follow me," she says, and steps back to take his hand in hers, then walks with him through the quiet halls of the Citadel until they reach her door. She unlocks it and draws him inside, then closes it firmly behind them again.
Her heart is racing, anticipation chasing sweet fire through her veins as she puts her arms back around his neck. "Welcome to my humble abode," she murmurs, smiling, and kisses him.
"Follow me," she says, and steps back to take his hand in hers, then walks with him through the quiet halls of the Citadel until they reach her door. She unlocks it and draws him inside, then closes it firmly behind them again.
Her heart is racing, anticipation chasing sweet fire through her veins as she puts her arms back around his neck. "Welcome to my humble abode," she murmurs, smiling, and kisses him.
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"Thanks," he teases. "I like what you've done with the place."
He hasn't bothered to look anywhere but at her.
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She loves it. His cheeseball charm that's so different from any kind of polished pick-up line. He teases her and she teases him back like they're kids, like he's tugging on her braid just to get her attention.
It's adorable, and she adores him.
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He doesn't know when or how or why he got so lucky, to have a friend like Steve, to have people like T'Challa and Shuri and the rest, to have Sharon in his life. He'll never be worth it, any of it, but all he can do is try.
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She kisses him back, swaying slowly in his arm, enjoying the feel of his hand on her hip, how his palm and fingers skate over the silky material of this dress.
All of the bad choices she's made in her life. If he's the only good one, it'll all have been worth it.
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Slowly, he traces his fingers up her back, along the long, beautiful line of her.
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Her other hand drifts down along the slope of his left shoulder and over the curve of what remains before tracking down to spread her fingers over his ribs, feeling him breathe into her palm. "You are," she tells him, soft, "the most beautiful thing in the world."
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If she was better with words, she might have words for it. How part of it is, yes, his face and his eyes and his smile and his body, but most of it is just him. His goodness. His compassion. How hard he keeps trying. How he's never given up, even when all he could do was slog through the mud and mist and hope the direction he was moving was forward.
How he is with the kids. How he is with her. How he makes her feel cherished, protected, supported.
But she doesn't know how to say all that, so she just kisses him and hopes some of it comes through.
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Except he drops his hand to catch her fingers, and she pulls away just enough to look a question at him. "No?"
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"I'm all yours."
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Only once he reaches her shoulders again does he move, circling around behind her, kissing his way to the nape of her neck as he lifts his hand to pull her hair aside.
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"I'm glad you like this dress," she murmurs, her right hand sliding to his neck and back to his shoulder again, warm and just slightly trembling with holding herself back. "Glad I finally got a chance to wear one for you."
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Embarrassing how often she'd dreamed about him. How much she'd craved him.
It might just be brain chemicals going haywire, but it feels like so much more.
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Remembering his request, she doesn't move to slip it all the way off, just shivers under his kisses and waits for whatever it is he wants to do next.
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With that, he slips it off first one shoulder, then the other, then pulls her back against him as it falls to the floor. Bucky puts his hand under her chin and turns her face towards him so that he can kiss her again.
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She leans back against him and turns her head willingly, dressed now only in bra and underwear and those strappy gold heels, and it's clear she's put more thought into what she wore tonight than just the dress itself because the lingerie, too, is something new and a little different, beautifully constructed of blush pink satin and lace. Nothing too frothy, but a marked change from her usual cotton underthings.
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"God, baby," he murmurs, drawing his fingers slowly down the front of her body, worshiping her with his eyes, "you're a dream come true."
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A literal dream come true, in some cases. She thinks about how frustrated she'd been with him after Leipzig, and then how hard he'd tried to keep her at arm's length when she first got here, and wonders how the hell she managed to convince him otherwise.
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"I'm feeling a little overdressed here," he murmurs, eventually, a hint of laughter in his voice. "Want to do something about that?"
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She runs her palms from his shoulders down over his chest and stomach and takes a long, lingering moment just slipping her hands up beneath his shirt to run them over soft, warm skin before tugging gently at the hem and pulling it up and over his head. He's all creamy tan skin and lean muscle and she absolutely stands by her previous assessment of him as the most beautiful thing in the world.
Tucking the fingers of one hand into the waistband of his pants, she runs her other palm back over his chest and leans in to kiss him again as she rubs the pad of her thumb gently over one nipple, then reaches down to undo the fastening of his pants. "Your shoes might get in the way, though."
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"You're right. Let me take care of it."
Bucky goes down on one knee, then the other, pulling the laces free and kicking off his boots. Once done, he cups his hand around her calf and slowly begins to slide his fingers upward, kissing along the inside of her knee, then her thigh, as he does.
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