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The mission was supposed to be simple- just a routine investigation of an old HYDRA base. No hostiles, no active threats, just a sweep for any lingering tech or classified intel. But, of course, things didn’t go to plan.
The air was thick with dust and the scent of rusted metal as you navigated the dimly lit corridors, your boots scuffing softly against the cracked concrete floor. The remains of outdated HYDRA technology sat abandoned, wires frayed, panels dark, the remnants of a long-dead organization still clutching at relevance. It should have been nothing more than a cleanup job- catalogue the junk, confirm there were no active threats, and get the hell out.
You were scanning a particularly decrepit-looking console, fingers grazing over a series of faded HYDRA insignias, when something clicked.
A sharp snap echoed through the room as a metal cuff clamped down around your wrist.
“Oh, shit,” you muttered, instinctively tugging at it.
“What happened?”
Bucky’s voice was immediate, sharp with concern. He was at your side in an instant, his vibranium hand gently gripped your forearm as he inspected the cuff. His brows furrowed as he studied the mechanism, and before you could warn him to be careful, his metal fingers drifted too close.
With a soft hiss, another cuff snapped into place- this time, locking around his vibranium wrist.
You both froze.
“Seriously?” you exhaled, staring at the unforgiving metal that now physically attached you to Bucky Barnes.
He let out a slow, deliberate breath through his nose. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Your heart hammered as you gave the restraint a sharp tug, testing it. The metal didn’t so much as shift. You turned, twisting your wrist, but Bucky moved with you- because there was no getting away.
Panic crept into your voice. “Okay, okay, we can just take these off, right?”
Bucky pulled at his side, first experimentally, then harder. The muscles in his jaw twitched as he yanked at it, but the cuff refused to budge. His frown deepened as he examined the lock.
“No keyhole.”
You blinked. “What do you mean ‘no keyhole’?”
“I mean,” he muttered, voice edged with irritation, “there’s no keyhole. No latch, no release.”
Your stomach did an uncomfortable flip. “So… what? We cut them off?”
Bucky flexed his vibranium fingers. “They’re HYDRA-made. If I try to break them, I could crush your wrist in the process.”
The realization settled between you, heavy and unshakable.
You inhaled sharply. “Fantastic.” Then, with far less patience: “We’re stuck.”
Bucky exhaled, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Yup.”
And then the inevitable happened.
“This is your fault!” you snapped, yanking at the cuff in frustration, your wrist burning from the chafing metal.
Bucky had the audacity to smirk. “I didn’t do a thing.”
“You- ugh!” You yanked again, but it was pointless. You weren’t getting out of this without cutting off his damn arm, and even you weren’t cruel enough to suggest that he try to dismantle parts of it.
Being this close to him was already annoying on the best of days. His constant 'follow my lead' attitude, the way he always seemed so sure of himself- it drove you insane. And now? Now you were literally stuck to him. Your pulse kicked up for reasons you refused to acknowledge, and you scowled, masking the unease with irritation.
You huffed, turning your attention back to the restraint. “We need to find a way to break these.”
Bucky tilted his head, looking far too entertained. “Oh, I dunno. Could be fun like this.”
Your glare could have cut through steel. “We are not staying cuffed together, Barnes.”
Bucky shrugged, tugging lightly at the cuffs again. “I’m sure Stark will get us out of these once we get home.”
You grumbled under your breath. “Great. Our extraction isn’t scheduled until tomorrow.”
Bucky let out a dry chuckle. "Guess that means we're getting real cozy till then, huh?" He glanced down at where your wrists were bound together and smirked. "Hope you don’t snore."
Despite your efforts there was no solution. The cuffs were far beyond ordinary restraints. No brute force, no backdoor override, no simple trick was going to free you. And with Bucky’s metal arm restrained, even he wasn’t willing to risk hurting you to break them.
Which meant you had no choice but to wait for Tony to take a look.
And that? That was going to be a problem.
By the time night fell, exhaustion was settling in. You both managed to find a somewhat decent place to rest- an old, creaking bed in a safehouse nearby. The mattress was thin, the sheets smelled vaguely of dust and damp, but it was better than nothing. But sleeping while attached to Bucky Barnes was proving to be a nightmare.
“Stop moving,” you grumbled, trying to get comfortable without your arm getting yanked.
Bucky exhaled through his nose. “Kinda hard when you’re sprawled all over me.”
Your cheeks burned. “I’m not- ”
But you were.
There was no way around it- his arm was wrapped around you, keeping you pressed against his side. Every shift, every twitch of his muscles, sent a jolt of awareness through you. The heat of his body, the solid weight of him, the sheer size of him against you…
You tried to shift away, but the cuffs made it impossible. Every tiny movement just pressed you closer, your body molding against his like a puzzle piece that fit all too well. You could feel the way his chest rose and fell, steady, unbothered- while your own breath was coming far too fast for comfort.
“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, twisting slightly, only to freeze as Bucky's grip instinctively tightened around you.
“Doll,” his voice was low, rough with sleep, “if you keep wiggling like that, neither of us are getting any rest.”
Heat flared in your cheeks. “I’m not- ” But you were, again, shifting just enough to feel the tension coiled in his muscles, the slow flex of his vibranium fingers resting against your waist.
You swallowed hard, willing your body to ignore the way he felt against you. But it was impossible- the warmth, the solid weight, the steady, controlled power that had you feeling far too aware of every single breath he took. You could smell him, the faint traces of sweat and gunpowder mixed with something unmistakably Bucky.
You squeezed your eyes shut. “Just go to sleep.”
Silence stretched between you before Bucky let out a slow chuckle, the vibrations rolling through his chest, through you.
“Whatever you say.”
And somehow, despite everything, you did.
You blinked awake, mind still foggy. The sky outside the safehouse window had shifted to muted shades of gray, the first signs of dawn creeping in through the thin curtains. The air was thick with early morning stillness, broken only by the soft creaks of the old bed beneath you. As you stirred, trying to shift into a more comfortable position, something stopped you.
Something warm. Solid. Heavy. The unmistakable weight of an arm draped over you, pinning you in place. Not just any arm- his arm. The hard, unyielding pressure of metal wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him even as he slept. The sensation was grounding and suffocating all at once, leaving you hyper-aware of every shift, every breath, every slow, unconscious squeeze of his vibranium fingers against your bare skin.
But it wasn’t just his arm. Sometime during the night, you had gotten tangled together, his leg slipped between yours, pressing up against your crotch in a way that made your breath stop. The pressure, subtle yet insistent, had you far too aware of how sensitive you felt, of the heat pooling low in your belly. The way your body responded, the way the tension in the air had shifted from mere discomfort to something else entirely.
You tried to move his hold was unyielding so you shifted back.
Only this time your butt was pressed firmly against something unmistakable.
Bucky was hard.
Heat rushed up your spine, your senses suddenly painfully aware of everything- the solid warmth of his chest flush against your back, the slow, deep rhythm of his breathing, and the way his hips had begun rocking against you, even in sleep.
You swallowed hard, torn between panic and something far more dangerous as another slow, instinctive roll of his hips sent a spark of heat straight to your core. You should move- you should wake him up- but then a quiet, needy sound slipped from his lips, muffled where his face had buried against the back of your neck.
His vibranium hand flexed, the cooler metal splaying over your stomach. Skin to metal. Your shirt had ridden up during the night, leaving you bare beneath his touch, and when his thumb brushed the soft skin just beneath your ribs, your entire body tensed. A shiver rolled through you, unbidden, and that’s when you felt it-
Your own arousal.
The ache that pulsed in time with the steady press of his body against yours. The sharp awareness of how easily, how seamlessly, your bodies fit together, the tension stretched so tight between you it felt like a live wire.
You needed to wake him up.
But trapped as you were, there was no room to press your thighs together- only to shift, just barely, along the firm muscle of his leg between yours. The motion sent a ripple of sensation through you, what had you done in the night that had gotten you as wet you were becoming. Shifting your hips again trying to do something to make it better- Bucky growled.
His nose brushed against the back of your neck, breath hot, lips so close to your skin. His hips pressed against you again, slower, deliberate, sending a shockwave through your already tense body. His grip on your stomach tightened, just enough for you to feel it, to need more.
Then came the sharp, teasing graze of teeth against your nape.
His voice was hoarse, rough with sleep and something else entirely when he muttered, “Stop moving. You’re making it worse.”
His breath fanned against your skin, sending another shudder through you, and suddenly you weren’t sure who was torturing who.
You stiffened, before trying to move away.
"I just- "
"Said stop moving." His grip tightened, pulling you back against him, his leg pushing up harder, and you swallowed the moan that nearly slipped past your lips.
"Been teasing me all damn night in your sleep."
"I didn’t do a thing.”
"Really?" His breath was hot against your ear, voice rough and edged with something dangerous. "'Cause I can smell it, you know..."
Your stomach flipped. "What?"
Bucky's fingers flexed against your bare skin, his tone dark with amusement. "You. Been leaving little wet patches on my leg with all your grinding…"
His words sent another wave of heat through you, your breath hitching as your body betrayed you yet again. Bucky hummed, his lips grazing your neck as his grip on your waist tightened. "Drove me crazy, y'know. All those little sleepy moans while you were riding my leg. Thought I was imagining it at first, but nah- " his teeth nipped at the delicate skin just below your ear, making you jolt, "- you were using me, weren’t you?"
"I wasn’t- "
"You're always such a brat in the field, you a brat in the bed, too?" His voice was smug, teasing, completely in control now. Your fingers clenched around the cuffed hand as he slowly dragged it down your stomach, his movements deliberate, testing. You tensed, instinctively trying to pull his hand back up, but the metal was unyielding. His fingers merely flexed beneath yours, a silent warning that he could take control if he wanted to.
"Don't get all shy on me now, sweetheart…" Bucky murmured, his lips tracing a slow, heated path down the side of your throat. "Not after all the trouble you've already caused."
Bucky's hand cupped you through your pants, his palm pressing against the damp fabric, making you gasp. A dark chuckle rumbled against your neck as he felt the heat radiating through the thin material.
"Undo your pants," he murmured, the command cutting through the thick haze of tension.
You found yourself shifting, your own shaking fingers undoing the button and pulling down the zipper, Bucky’s hand sliding in without hesitation. The sensation made you arch, your body betraying you as his fingers made contact. A little whimper slipped from your lips before you could stop it.
"All that grinding made you all ache and sensitive, Babydoll…" His metal finger barely pressed your underwear against your swollen clit, the faintest amount of pressure making your breath stutter.
Bucky hummed in satisfaction, his fingers starting a slow, teasing circle over the fabric still covering you. "Bet you've been dripping for me all night," he murmured, his lips tracing the shell of your ear. "So wet and needy, and you don’t even wanna admit it."
His hand slid further, fingers pushing past the final barrier of fabric to find you bare beneath, slick and ready. He groaned at the feel of you, his grip tightening as his fingers slipped through your wetness, coating themselves in evidence of your arousal. "Fuck, sweetheart… you're soaking."
A strangled sound caught in your throat as his fingers circled your clit, the cool contrast of metal making you shudder. You tried to resist the pleasure flooding through you, but Bucky was relentless, keeping you spread open with his thigh between yours.
"Bucky- "
"Shh, sweetheart. Just let me feel you," he whispered, voice thick with desire. His hand moved with intent now, slow and devastating strokes that had you trembling against him. "That’s it, good girl… just like that."
His fingers slid lower, teasing along your folds, gathering the slickness that betrayed just how much you wanted this. A wicked smirk ghosted across his lips as he pressed against your entrance, just barely dipping in before pulling back, his touch agonizingly light.
"So sensitive," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. "So fuckin’ wet for me."
You let out a strangled moan as his metal finger circled your clit again, more pressure this time, more purpose. Heat coiled low in your stomach, each slow stroke sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins. Your hips moved before you could stop them, chasing the friction he so cruelly teased you with.
"That’s it, sweetheart," Bucky coaxed, voice laced with dark amusement. "Knew you wanted this. Knew you couldn’t resist."
You barely had time to bite back another moan before he flipped you onto your stomach, his grip firm as he pressed your cuffed hand down against the mattress. His free hand slid to your hip, tugging your pants lower, the cool air ghosting over your bare skin making you shiver.
The bed creaked as he moved behind you, the unmistakable sound of his belt being undone making your breath hitch. The rasp of his zipper sent anticipation curling through your spine, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress keeping you exactly where he wanted you. His own pants coming down, the clank of his metal belt
"Been waiting for this all night," Bucky murmured, his hand smoothing over the curve of your ass before squeezing. You felt your hips raise back to meet his hand, instinctively seeking friction, rubbing against the heavy, hard length pressed against you.
He groaned at the contact, his breath coming out harsher as he gripped your waist, his flesh hand against your skin. "That’s it, sweetheart," he muttered, grinding his cock against you slow and deliberate. "You want it, don’t you?"
You barely had time to answer before his free hand slid between your thighs, fingers teasing along your already slick folds. "So fuckin' wet for me," he groaned, his touch purposeful as he spread your arousal with slow, torturous strokes. "Bet you were dreamin' about this, weren't you? Ridin' my leg, gettin' yourself all worked up..."
Your breath stuttered, a whimper slipping from your lips as he pushed a finger inside you properly, curling it just right, making your body jolt. The pleasure was overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once.
"Bucky- " you gasped, barely able to form the words as he worked you open, his touch both devastating and precise.
"Yeah?" His voice was low, teasing, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed another finger in, stretching you further, our cunt clenching and holding onto his fingers. "That feel good, sweetheart? You gonna admit how bad you wanted this?"
Your fingers curled into the sheets, a desperate moan slipping from your lips as he thrust his fingers deeper, stroking the spot that had you trembling.
"Fuck- Bucky, I- " you tried, but your words cut off into a whimper when his thumb circled your clit, sending another wave of pleasure through you.
"That’s it," he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. "Let me hear you."
Bucky chuckled, dark and pleased, withdrawing his hand only to replace it with the heavy press of his cock against your entrance. "Gonna take my time with you." he murmured, voice thick with hunger. "Gonna stretch you open nice and slow... make sure you feel every inch."
And then, with a deep, steady push, he sank into you, stretching you inch by inch, until there was nothing left between you but heat, pressure, and the raw, unrelenting pleasure of being completely, utterly filled.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned, the weight of him making it impossible to properly move. Your walls fluttering around him as you let out a soft whine.
Bucky’s fingers tightened against your hips, his breath ragged against the back of your neck. “That’s it, not so sassy now, are ya baby?” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. His thrusts deepened, each roll of his hips sending pleasure spiking through you. “Just needed my fat cock to make you behave.”
A choked moan escaped your lips, your body arching instinctively, pushing back against him. The stretch, the pressure- it was too much and not enough, and you couldn’t stop the desperate sounds spilling from your throat.
Bucky chuckled darkly. “Fuck, listen to you,” he groaned, his pace picking up, the slap of skin against skin echoing in the room. “Moanin’ like a needy little thing. Thought you hated being stuck with me?”
You couldn’t even answer, couldn’t form words between gasps and whimpers.
“C’mon, sweetheart, use your words,” he taunted, his flesh hand slipping beneath you, fingers finding your clit. “Tell me how good I feel stretching you out.”
Your breath hitched, your back arching as pleasure ripped through you. “Bucky- I- fuck- ”
He groaned, thrusting harder, deeper, hitting that spot that made you see stars. “That’s it, take it, baby,” he rasped. “You’re so fuckin’ tight- so fuckin’ perfect wrapped around me.”
Your body clenched, heat coiling in your belly, the pleasure unbearable as his fingers worked you mercilessly, pushing you closer to the edge.
““Gonna come for me?” Bucky growled, his grip on your waist tightening. “Gonna soak my cock like a good girl?”
Your breath hitched, your body tightening around him, the pressure building unbearably fast. His fingers on your clit never relented, pushing you closer and closer, his thrusts turning sharper, rougher, until it was too much-
The pleasure crashed over you in a blinding wave, your cry muffled into the pillow as your body convulsed beneath him. You clenched around him, squeezing him so tight he let out a strangled moan, his grip on your waist turning bruising.
“Fuck- just like that,” he groaned, his rhythm faltering, his body seizing as he drove into you one last time before he buried himself deep, spilling into you with a deep, shuddering groan. The heat of it sent aftershocks rippling through you, your body still pulsing with the remnants of your orgasm as he slumped over you, both of you panting, sweat-slicked, and utterly spent.
For a long moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress. His breath fanned over the back of your neck, warm and uneven, his heart hammering against your spine. Neither of you spoke, your bodies still tangled, still connected, the cuffs a firm reminder that there was no pulling away just yet.
Bucky chuckled breathlessly, his lips ghosting over your shoulder as he murmured, “Guess being stuck together ain’t so bad after all, huh?”
His words sent a lazy shiver through you, but you were too boneless, too utterly wrecked to argue. Instead, you let your eyes drift shut, exhaling slowly, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back.
Yeah, you were definitely in trouble.
By the time backup arrived, you were fully dressed again, but nothing about the tension had faded. If anything, it had settled deeper. The flight home was quiet, and you were quiet too.
Bucky hadn’t let go of you the entire time. His fingers brushed your thigh every so often, casual, like it was nothing. Normally, you would have said something- told him to quit it, nudged him away- but right now, your brain was too hazy, too fluffy to form a real thought. The ache between your legs made every small movement an unspoken reminder of where he'd been, of what he'd done.
You kept your eyes on the window, forcing yourself to breathe, to act normal. But in the reflection, you saw it-
Bucky watching you.
That same small, satisfied smile on his face.
As the jet touched down, Bucky finally pulled at the cuffed connection, his vibranium arm giving a gentle but insistent tug. Your gaze snapped up, attention pulled from the window as your fingers instinctively curled into your lap.
"On your feet, Doll. Don't wanna keep Stark waiting."
"Yes, Sir." The words left your lips before you could even think about them, your breath hitching the moment you realized what you’d said.
Sir? When had that slipped into your vocabulary?
Bucky’s smirk deepened, though he didn’t comment, just gave a slow hum of amusement as he stood, the cuffed hand ensuring you followed right after. Blinking, heat creeping into your cheeks, you cleared your throat and got to your feet, falling into step slightly behind him as you made your way toward Stark’s lab.
Tony raised an eyebrow at the sight of you and Bucky, still cuffed together. "What the hell happened here?"
"Long story," Bucky muttered, avoiding your gaze, though his grip on the cuffed hand lingered a second too long before finally letting go.
Once the cuffs were finally removed, you should have felt relief. Should have been grateful to be free. But instead… you hesitated.
Bucky hesitated, too.
You both lingered, standing too close, the air between you charged with something unspoken. His fingers flexed at his side like he was fighting the urge to touch you again, his jaw tightening as his gaze flickered over you, lingering on the places he'd marked just hours ago. And for one, sharp moment, you thought he might- might say something, might pull you back in, might remind you exactly how good you felt under him.
But then, he just smirked. Slow, knowing, dangerous.
"Don’t think this means you’re off the hook."
Your breath caught. "I’m not?"
Bucky leaned in, his voice dipping into something husky. "Not even close."
His eyes held yours, heavy with meaning, and your stomach flipped, heat flooding your face and running down your chest. You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering as he finally stepped back-
But instead of leaving, he gave your cuffed hand a light tug, guiding you toward the hallway. "C'mon, sweetheart," he murmured, his smirk deepening. "Think it's time I take you somewhere a little more comfortable."
Your breath hitched, your body still too warm, too sensitive from everything that had happened. "Bucky- "
He shot you a look over his shoulder, teasing but firm. "Unless you wanna sleep alone tonight?"
A nervous giggle bubbled up before you could stop it, and you cleared your throat, shaking your head as he led you toward his bedroom.