The training room buzzed with energy.

Two dozen agents practiced hand-to-hand combat, honing their skills just like every week.

Just like every other week, Gianna sat at the edge of the training room, back against the wall. Her notebook was spread open on her lap. Typically, musings and lyrics poured out of her pen faster than she could write them down. The past few days…quite the opposite. The pages in front of her were completely empty, save for the scrawled doodles in the margins. She sighed, looking up at the noisy room.

Weaving through the pairs of sparring partners, Bucky paused every so often to provide guidance. His movements were precise and powerful, even when he demonstrated things at half speed for the agents to learn. Watching him had become a familiar routine, one Gianna looked forward to each day. But again, lately, something felt different.

His voice echoing through the cavernous room, Bucky called the agents to gather around, ending the training the same way he always did - with a few sparring sessions of his own. Agent Allison, the one who infamously had the hots for him, practically leapt to the front of the crowd, volunteering to go first.

In the weeks since she'd been at the compound, it had become common knowledge that Gianna and Bucky were very much together. There was a strict no-media protocol on the compound, with everyone who entered having to sign an airtight NDA. The precautions were for keeping much greater secrets, but it definitely made for a much more private relationship while they stayed here. Even if the agents saw Bucky shove Gianna up against this exact wall in the training room (not that she'd ever daydreamt about it), they couldn't say a word, take a photo, nothing.

Most of the agents had healthy discretion, acknowledging the high-profile relationship existed without making it a thing. Gianna guessed that after months of watching the Black Widow and Captain America with their ongoing will-they-won't-they thing, the agents had become desensitized to the outlandish things they saw at work. It wasn't like they could go home, hit happy hour with their friends, and talk about how they'd spent the day sparring with the Winter Soldier.

Although if anyone were to try and boast about it…Gianna knew it would be Agent Allison. She narrowed her eyes, watching them.

Bucky's every move was calculated, his strikes sharp and unforgiving. His face remained blank, clearly nowhere close to his full exertion. As much as Gianna hated to admit it, Agent Allison was skilled in her own right. She fought valiantly, no doubt showing off, but he made quick work of the round. Bucky swiftly disarmed her and, with a controlled motion, sent her to the mat. The thud echoed through the room as she landed on her back. Gianna bit the tip of her pen to disguise the grin that threatened to play across her face.

No sooner had she reprimanded herself for being so satisfied with the agent's defeat did another thought cross her mind.

The way Bucky had sparred with her, and every other female agent, was the exact same as he sparred with the men. He held back, naturally, but he definitely didn't take it easy on them. He let himself beat them, quickly. He hit them, hard. He didn't treat them like they were breakable.

It bothered her, not at all because of his sheer strength, but because of the contrast between his approach with her and with the agents. The memory of his protective outburst at the lake just a few days ago resurfaced, muddled with the image of him throwing Agent Allison to the floor just a moment ago.

Goddammit, Gianna. Don't make something out of nothing. He's obviously not going to treat you like a combat trained field agent with years of experience. You're manufacturing conflict.

She shook her head to clear it, but couldn't shake the knot that had formed in her stomach.

"Oh, Lordy, something smells good in here!" Sam announced his presence in the kitchen as Gianna stirred a pot on the stove.

"Once, just once, could you enter a room quietly?" Bucky scowled from his seat at the kitchen island, keeping her company while she worked.

"Yow, somebody's hangry."

"Make yourself useful," Wanda thrust a stack of plates into Sam's hands. "Set the table, don't forget forks go on the left!"

"Yeah, yeah, not my fault y'all treat every dinner like the Queen's joining us." He rolled his eyes but obliged.

Even after the weeks she'd been at the compound, their dinner tradition hadn't faded. Almost every night, Gianna and Wanda would cook for whichever variation of the team was there. They'd eat at the table, sit and talk for way too long, and then tackle the dishes before going their separate ways. Everyone teased the girls for their commitment to the new tradition, but it was clear that not one person wanted to give up the wholesome family atmosphere it brought.

"Oh, I left the pie in the fridge downstairs. I'll be right back." Wanda disappeared around the corner, leaving Gianna and Bucky alone in the kitchen.

"Have I told you lately how pretty you are?" He cocked his head to the side as he stood and rounded the island.

"Hmm…" Gianna pretended to think. "Would half an hour ago be considered 'lately'?"

"Absolutely not." He caught her wrist and pulled her close, wrapping his hands around her waist.

"Bucky," She giggled between kisses, her face still flushing at his adoration.

"What?" He grinned and moved his hands up to her cheeks, kissing her slowly. She melted into him, only being brought back to reality by the oven timer dinging.

"As much as I'd like to keep this going, I didn't spend two hours slaving away just to burn a whole lasagna." She stood on her tiptoes and gave him one last kiss on his prickly jawline. "Not a full stop, just a pause."

As Gianna rifled through the kitchen drawers, the oven timer kept dinging. "Ugh, if Wanda moves the oven mitts one more time…" She heard the oven open behind her and turned to see Bucky grab the casserole dish with his left hand, depositing it on the stove. He must have heard her gasp, turning to grin.

"It's multipurpose." He wiggled his vibranium fingers at her, unphased.

"That's the true hero work," She winked. "Now go sit down, play nice with Sam."

He groaned but turned to head for the dining room. Waiting for the lasagna to settle, she looked around for what was missing. Glasses. Of course, the only clean ones left were on the very top shelf. She climbed onto the counter, putting a knee on the smooth marble and pulling herself up by the open cabinet door.

"Sam forgot napkins, hey, what are you doing?" Bucky frowned as he walked back in.

"All the other cups are in the dishwasher. Here," She passed two glasses down to him.

"I could have gotten those for you."

"No need," She handed him the last two and scrambled down. "I'm resourceful."

"You could have fallen, hit your head, stepped on the hot stove…"

"But I didn't."

"But,"

"Buck," She interrupted him. "I'm fine."

He paused for a moment, brows still knit together, but took the glasses into the other room without another word.

"I don't think I can eat again for a week." Bucky groaned as he laid back onto the bed.

"I've heard that before." She grinned as she unfastened her earrings, setting them on the nightstand. "Yet you always seem to have a change of heart around breakfast."

"I'm weak for pancakes."

"You seem to have a few more weaknesses than that." She purred, climbing onto his lap.

"That doesn't sound like me." He smirked and propped himself on his elbows. Gianna ignored him, running her fingers along his jawline.

"If I recall," She slid her hands under the hem of his sweatshirt, hands cold against his warm body. "We have unfinished business."

Bucky sat up, putting his hand on the small of Gianna's back to keep her steady as he shifted beneath her. "That…" He kissed her, soft and slow. "We do."

They hadn't discussed what happened after the lake. When she'd quite literally laid herself bare and he left the room. She tried to tell herself he meant what he said, he felt gross from his mission and wanted to shower. She knew he wanted to 'take things slow' - but what did that mean? They'd been…whatever they were, officially, for weeks now. He slept in her bed almost every night. He kissed her in front of God and everybody. He'd shared his most intimate thoughts with her by revealing his journals.

But every time she tried to push things just a little further…he'd stop. He'd shift the tone to sweet, playing with her hair until she fell asleep or tracing circles on the small of her back. It was kind, gentle, honorable. At this point, however, she'd had her fill of kind, gentle, and honorable.

Gianna pulled back from his lips, raising her arms above her head. Their eyes locked as his hands slid up her back, the fabric of her shirt rising with it. Slowly, tenderly, he lifted it over her head and let her tousled hair tumble down her back. After letting his gaze drift over her for a moment, soaking up the delicate lace of her bra, she tugged his shirt over his head. Their warm chests pressed together as she wrapped her hand around his neck and kissed him again, tongue parting his lips immediately.

His grip tightened around her back as the kiss intensified, her hands tangled in his hair. Feeling especially impatient, Gianna slid off of his lap, her bare feet landing in the carpet between his knees. She pulled back from his lips, eyes hungry, and gently shoved his bare chest to push him back to the bed. He complied without protesting, watching her every move.

Her hands drifted to his hips, tugging on the drawstring of his sweatpants. Bucky's eyes darkened. When the knot came undone in her delicate grip, she slipped her fingers inside the waistband and tugged them down, leaving them in a discarded heap on the floor.

Gianna rose, pausing only for a minute, to look over him sitting in his boxers. The muscles of his abdomen were taught even as he laid back on his elbows. His dark hair had the oh-so-familiar evidence of her hands having run through it. His jaw was clenched, blue eyes raking over her body.

God, he's pretty.

Afraid of waiting any longer, she climbed back onto his lap, his hands meeting her hips in a desperate, greedy grip. Their lips crashed together as he rolled over on top of her. Gianna gasped into their kiss as his hips pressed against hers, his desire more than evident.

Suddenly, tragically, infuriatingly…he tore himself from her and stood, out of breath.

"I, we can't." He didn't meet her eyes.

"Why?" Gianna cried out, unable to contain her frustration. Bucky turned his back to her, walking around the room. "Bucky, look at me!"

Slowly, he approached the bed, staying out of arms' reach. He still didn't look at her.

"Bucky…"

"I told you…"

"No, you told me you can't. You told me you want to do this right, but you won't tell me why or when the right time is! For God's sake, I am throwing myself at you, and you're walking away from me," Her voice cracked at the end and he looked up with guilt-ridden eyes.

"I'm sorry," He reached out to cup her cheek but she caught his hand.

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to want me."

"Gianna…" Bucky dropped to his knees in front of the bed. "This isn't about me wanting you…that has never, ever been a problem."

"Then what is the problem?"

His blue eyes looked back and forth between hers. "I don't want to hurt you."

"God, Bucky, I'm not made of glass!" She climbed off of the bed, throwing her hands in the air. "Why do you treat me like I'm breakable! You freaked out when I was just having fun, doing the same thing as everyone else, you didn't even like when I climbed on the counter to get a dish from the cabinet, and I know you made Peter come with us to New York because you were afraid I wouldn't be safe enough with just Wanda." Her eyes narrowed. "You have always protected me, always kept me safe, but it's like that's all you want to do!"

His eyes were torn, it took everything in her not to rush to comfort him with the heart-wrenching look he had on his face. "I don't want to hurt you." He repeated, his voice coming out as a growl.

"You don't have to worry about hurting me -"

"I have to worry about hurting everyone." He hissed, angry at the reality and angry it had led to this when all he wanted was to give in. "Especially you."

"You don't treat me like the others, the way you threw Agent Allison on the ground today," Gianna paused, steeling herself, furious that she even had to mention that woman in her own bedroom. "Do you…think I'm weak? Do you think I can't handle myself?"

"No, Gianna," He crossed the room in two steps and cupped her face. "That's not it at all. You are…easily one of the strongest women, strongest people I've ever met. You've been through more than anyone should have to endure and you've done most of it alone." He searched her eyes. "It's not that I think you can't handle things…it's that I don't think you should have to. I…I want better for you. I want to give you what you deserve, keep everything bad away."

Her face softened as his desperate words. "I don't need everything bad to be kept away. I just need to keep the good close." She tucked a dark strand behind his ear. "I just can't seem to get close enough."

Bucky's thumbs brushed her cheeks, the conflict in his mind almost palpable. "I…I don't want to hurt you."

Her brows knit together, watching the anguish on his face. "How would you -"

"I don't trust myself." His voice was strained. "With how I feel about you, what I want…"

"But I trust you." She tilted his chin to look back at her. "What about what I want?"

Gianna took a step back. The number of days she'd worn matching lacy undergarments, just hoping it would be the night he'd take them off of her…she'd lost count. Tonight, standing before him in the delicate, lacy blue set, the one that reminded her of his eyes when she picked it out in the store…she didn't think she had enough patience to hope for another day.

"Bucky…" She breathed. "Ask me what I want."

His eyes slowly, painfully, rose to meet hers. His breathing was labored. He was losing the battle with himself.

"What…do you want?"

"I want you to stop worrying."

She stroked his cheek.

"I want you to know you make me feel safer than I ever have, in my life."

She held his metal hand in hers, kissing his knuckles.

"I want you to appreciate this stupid lingerie I picked out specifically for you."

She took two slow, deliberate steps backwards, letting his eyes trail over her.

"I want you to stop acting like I'm breakable and throw me on this bed like I've been dreaming about for months."

"Gianna," His voice was a low warning, all his restraint about to break.

"I want you to fuck me."

Half a second.

That's how long he hesitated before he snapped. In two strides, he crossed the room, never breaking eye contact with her. Before she could process, he'd picked her up, one hand supporting her and one hand gripping her cheek like his life depended on it. He kissed her harder, hungrier than he ever had before. Moving his hand away from her face for a split second, he reached around her back and ripped the clasp off of her bra. Without setting her down, he climbed onto the bed, still holding her to his body as he supported them both with his other arm.

He ran his tongue along her lower lip, moaning into her mouth. With a deep kiss, he deposited her onto the bed, rising up on his knees. Gianna let out a small whine as he pulled away but was quickly silenced by the look in his eyes. He reached down and took the delicate lace of her bra between his fingers, lifting it off of her body with ease, thanks to the mangled clasp somewhere across the room. He set it to the side and ran his hands across her collarbone, tracing the outline of her breasts, before trailing his hands down to her hips. A trail of fire lit Gianna's skin everywhere he touched her.

Bucky traced the lace design, committing the image to memory. In one swift movement, completely contradictory to the gentle way he touched her, he grabbed them and yanked. The lace ripped with ease and he tossed the ruined material to the side.

"Fuck."

Gianna sucked in a breath, the sight of him looking at her so lustfully making it suddenly hard to breathe, to think at all. "Please," She pleaded.

He didn't make her wait. In a second, his boxers were ripped and discarded right next to her panties. He was on her, arms caging her in on the mattress. He surrounded her. All she could see were piercing blue eyes, inky black hair hanging down over her, silver vibranium glinting in the moonlight. He filled her senses. He burrowed into the crook of her neck, kissing her collarbone, nipping at the delicate skin below her ear. She moaned, fingers running up his back.

His hand cupped her jaw, giving her a long, wet kiss before pulling back. His thumb ran across her lower lip, not able to fully let go but needing to put his mouth on the rest of her. He kissed, nibbled, bit what felt like every inch of her neck, chest, stomach. Gianna squirmed, urging him back up, but he caught her hips in an unyielding grip and held her still as he continued.

Bucky slid off the edge of the bed, again kneeling on the floor beside it. Still holding her hips, he yanked her to the edge of the bed, parting her legs around his face. His eyes met hers as he sank out of her view, draping her legs lazily over his shoulders. The gleam in his eye when he tasted her was almost predatory. Though she couldn't see his face, Gianna knew, could feel that he was smirking. She threw her head back as a moan escaped her, bucking her hips against his face. Again, he gripped her waist and pinned her down, ensuring she wouldn't move before his left hand disappeared. A cold, vibranium finger slid inside of her, moving at a tantalizing pace.

She couldn't tell if it was ten seconds or ten minutes that he stayed between her legs, time passed differently with that kind of ecstasy. Before she knew it, everything that had been building up since she first saw him, saw those blue eyes and the muscles through the back of his t-shirts…all of it coiled inside of her until she couldn't take it anymore. Her secret, lust-filled daydreams mixed with all the memories of his face swirled through her mind as she cried out, her legs wrapped around his shoulders. The grip he had on her waist with his right hand was sure to leave a mark, but it was nowhere near her mind at that moment. Her eyes flew open, arching her back, and the last thing she saw as she came undone was that tousled black hair between her legs.

Gianna fell apart in his hands, quivering as the waves of pleasure slowly subsided. Far from satiated, Bucky slowly pulled back, kissing the insides of her thighs as he did. The way they trembled in his hands made him even more feral, made him need her even more.

He slid his hand under her back and moved her to the middle of the bed, climbing on top of her. Her eyes were dazed, looking up at him like he was the sun, the moon, and all the stars. Using his legs, Bucky nudged hers open and settled between them, ready to finish what they started. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, tasting the thinnest sheen of sweat across her brow.

"Are you sure?"

She looked up at him with those big green eyes. Wordlessly, her hands snaked down to grab his hips, pulling him towards her. He moved slowly, watching her face for any kind of discomfort as he pushed into her for the first time. With a soft whimper, her eyes rolled beneath her lids, head falling back to the mattress. Bucky bit his lip, commanding himself to take it slow. More impatient than him, Gianna's legs wrapped around his waist and locked, pulling him deep inside of her. Their moans mixed together as he paused, fully entwined with her.

He could smell her, feel her, taste her…she was everywhere. She was everything.

After a moment of letting her adjust, Bucky kissed Gianna, so gently she had to open her eyes and make sure it was real. There was a moment of overwhelming, intoxicating warmth that flooded her as his eyes opened and met hers. They paused, pressing their foreheads together and breathing the same breath.

"Move," Her voice was barely above a whisper, but a command nonetheless.

So he did.

Pulling back and thrusting into her, he picked up in pace and force until the room was a hurricane of sweat, moans, and the sound of skin on skin. Gianna heard herself cry out his name, but it felt otherworldly. Nothing was real to her except the feeling of him, of James Buchanan Barnes, inside of her.

When he fell apart, it was the most delicious sight she'd ever seen. His eyes rolled, he threw his head back, his mouth opened to let out a low moan as every muscle in his beautiful body tensed.

They laid there for another undefined amount of time, limbs tangled, sweat mingled, hearts pounding. Bucky's arms cradled her head as he laid his on her chest, soothed by the rise and fall of her breathing.

"Bucky?"

He lifted his head, stroking her hair off of her cheek.

"I want this, all of this. Always."

His lopsided smile spread across his face. "That good, huh?"

"Bucky," She nudged him. "I'm serious."

"Gianna…" He propped himself up and traced her hairline, her ear, her jaw. "I couldn't even resist you when all I had was the idea of you. Now that I know you, now that…I can never go back to a life without you."

She bit her lip to keep the goofy, giddy smile from breaking through. Having heard what she wanted, she pulled herself out from under him and padded over to the oversized tub in the corner.

"For the record," Gianna grinned as she turned on the hot water. "It most definitely was that good, and you better actually join me this time."

Bucky rolled off the bed, grinning right back. "Don't have to ask me twice."

author's note: okay OKAY this is big, and the first of this kind that I've written...so please give me feedback! It took 26 chapters to get here so I hope it was done right! ugh so many emotions, I hope you enjoy!