[oom] the world a cage

[from_the_outside]

This was a bad idea.

She knows it as soon as she steps outside into the cool Brooklyn evening and Bucky locks the door behind them. Her pulse kicks up in her chest the second the lock clicks and she'd give almost anything to tell him she's changed her mind, that she's not going. To slip back inside the apartment and find a safe corner to breathe until this tight spiraling anxiety in her chest loosens.

Instead, she tugs her hood up over her hair and down over her eyes, hating how familiar it is. The hood. The dark clothes. The way every part of her goes on high alert. She hasn't been outside for a full minute and she's already exhausted.

It only gets worse as they go further from the apartment. Brooklyn isn't Madripoor, there are no shadows here where she can hide, no getaway routes she knows like the back of her hand. It's only having Bucky next to her that keeps her from fading back into the darkness and making a run for it, and by the time they get to the meeting spot – a bench along the river in Brooklyn Bridge Park – every nerve is stretched to its limit.

Next time, she's telling Fury just to meet them on a rooftop somewhere.

Comments

[nerves_of_ice]

A harsh breath escapes him at the touch of her lips, the feel of her hands on his body.

"Sharon, god--"

[from_the_outside]

She hums against his skin and presses another kiss a little lower - and another, and another, until she’s pressing her mouth to his upper thigh and letting her right hand drift from his hip down along his groin.

She pauses long enough to glance up at him along the tightening line of his stomach, a tiny smile tugging at her mouth, and then she wraps her fingers around him and begins stroking slowly up and down.

[nerves_of_ice]

His back arches as his hips buck forward into the touch of her hand, making his muscles stand out and causing him to appear almost as a living sculpture in sharp, frozen lines. His head falls back as a groan escapes him.

[from_the_outside]

“Jesus.”

She breathes it against his skin, her breath a warm moist puff as she look up along his body, eyes dark beneath the heavy fringe of her lashes. “How are you real?”

Real, and here, and hers. It’s all she can take before she finishes kissing along the soft skin of his lower belly and gently replaces her fingers with her mouth.

[nerves_of_ice]

This time the sound he makes is raw with want, with need. He manages to keep his hips still enough as he lets his hands fall to rest on her shoulders, tangling his fingers in the glorious waves of her hair.

"Please," he breathes, barely able to speak. "Sharon, please."

[from_the_outside]

She teases light kisses along his hard length before setting her mouth around him, lips and tongue soft and slow, doing her best to drive him as out of his mind, as damn near feral as she feels.

His hoarse plea makes her flick a glance up and she hums, takes him deeper, then releases him long enough to to say: “Yes, baby. Anything. Tell me what you want.”

But it’s only a brief reprieve before she’s back again, mouth hot and wet, her hand stroking slowly as she listens and adjusts, paying attention to each aborted shift of his hips, the sounds he makes.

[nerves_of_ice]

Anything, she says, and he nearly falls apart right there. How can he possibly explain that she's everything, already?

He slides his left hand down her shoulder and along her arm, grasping her fingers as he sets her free hand on his hip, urging her to direct how much or how little she wants him to move as he fights for control, drowning in her touch, the feel of her mouth around him.

[from_the_outside]

There are things she remembers him enjoying; different pressures and speeds, places she would touch and tease to drive him even further out of his mind.

They’ve got time. She knows it, but it’s hard to remember. She forces herself to go slow, taking him deep and warm, laving her tongue flat against him, her hands at his hips coaxing him to push and pull in a maddeningly slow pace.

He’d asked what she wanted. This is it: him, falling apart under her touch, under her mouth.

[nerves_of_ice]

His breath grows ragged as the slow, deliberate pace she sets threatens to consume him. Every touch is intensified; every second an eternity in which he loses himself in her and in what she's doing to him.

"Sharon," he gasps, raw and wanting. "Sharon, baby--"

[from_the_outside]

Lips, tongue, mouth, hand; she’ll use everything she can to chase those burned-out groans, to hear him say her name that way. It hasn't been all that long since she begged him to call her by her name, to remind her who she is, and she cherishes each and every time he moans it into the air.

She hums deliberately around him and hollows her cheeks to take him deep and fast, then lingers as she pulls back. She does it again: fast to mind-meltingly slow, utterly devoted to pulling him apart piece by piece.

[nerves_of_ice]

She's driving him out of his mind and he goes willingly. It takes all his control to keep his feet now, lost in her. He tangles his right hand more thoroughly in her hair and tugs at her as words fail him, wanting to touch her, to feel her in every possible way, and to warn her how very close he is to the edge.

[from_the_outside]

The hand in her hair draws her back, mouth pink and eyes dark, and she responds by taking his hand and pushing back on the bed, tugging at him to come with her.

“Come on, baby,” she coaxes. “Come here. Let me take care of you.”

[nerves_of_ice]

He follows without hesitation, cupping his hand around the nape of her neck and drawing her in for a deeply passionate kiss.

"Sharon," he breathes, her name the only word he can find.

[from_the_outside]

“Bucky,” she murmurs back, as she wraps a leg around his hip, as she puts her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

She shifts her weight and rolls them to his back, then pushes herself up and back, knees at either side of his hips, to slide against him before she reaches down to guide him inside as she sinks down onto him.

[nerves_of_ice]

He rocks up against her with a moan, resting his left hand in the small of her back and drawing his right down over her shoulder to tease her nipple as they move together.

“My angel,” he tells her. “Sharon, baby, I love you too, so much.”

[from_the_outside]

It's been so long since she's been able to tell him every single day how much she loves him, what he means to her; it's been so long since she's been able to show him.

She shivers as he caresses her, but it's not enough; she bends at the waist to come back down to him, kissing his mouth, threading her fingers into his hair, coaxing him to plant his feet and rock up against and into her.

[nerves_of_ice]

He responds with alacrity, arching up against her with a strong thrust, then another, as the leash on his control slips with her clear encouragement. He deepens the kiss as he moves against her, in her, harder and faster than before.

[from_the_outside]

She groans against his mouth, pressing down as he pushes up, trying to get him as deep as he can go. "Love me," she tells him, breathless, kisses muddy against his throat.

"However you want, baby, just – "

[nerves_of_ice]

“I will,” he says, running his hand over her back, the swell of her rear, pressing her against him. “I do.”

He kisses her again, deep and seeking, rolling his hips to drive deeper at a slight angle that presses him fully against and into her.

[from_the_outside]

She's not as far along as he is, but with the way he's moving under and in and against her, she's catching up quickly, coals heaping themselves into her lower belly.

Driving her hands up into his hair, she presses herself down against him for a moment, kissing him hard before sitting back up again, her hair wild around her face and over her shoulders as she takes his hand and guides him to stroke his thumb over and around the little bud of nerves he keeps brushing with each roll of his hips.

[nerves_of_ice]

She’s all wild glory above him, and there’s adoration and love both clear in the way he watches her as she settles back into him. It takes only a moment to realize what she wants, what she needs, when she places his hand against her, and he’s beyond glad to give it.

He starts with a circling pressure, rubbing his thumb over her, then without stopping that motion he slides his fingers to either side of the sensitive bud and squeezes, teasing her with the changing pressure and touch.

[from_the_outside]

"Baby."

She's watching him with dark, nearly drugged eyes, and the motion of her hips stutters before pushing forward again with renewed intensity, driving both of them towards the maddening edge.

She refuses to rush, but desperation is starting to seep in, pulling at her like the tide as she rocks, pressing herself against him, into his touch, the fingers teasing her and driving her fully out of her mind.

[nerves_of_ice]

He holds her gaze as he works his fingers against her, responding to each little shift in her movement, in her breath. It’s both easy and hard to do - easy because he wants so much for her to feel pleasure, hard because he’s on the ragged edge and clinging to the remnants of his own control as he rocks his body with hers, pressing as close and deep as humanly possible.

[from_the_outside]

He's shivering and holding back – not in touch or motion or anything but letting go those last semblances of control, she's sure – and holding back is that last thing she wants him to do.

"Come on, baby," she coaxes, squeezing herself around him as she rocks in rhythm. "Let go, I want you to – "

[nerves_of_ice]

The soft plea hits his ears as she tightens around him, and he’s helpless to deny her. Bucky groans aloud and drives up against her with a sudden jerk as his control snaps completely, moving fast and hard and wild with love and desire as he pushes into her over and over.