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The clang of weights hitting the floor echoed through the Avengers compound gym, rhythmic and sharp. You had wandered in with the innocent intent of grabbing your water bottle left behind after yesterday’s run but that plan was immediately derailed when you saw him.
Bucky Barnes in all his sweaty, grunting, post-serum glory.
He was at the cable machine, tugging down on the ropes with a force that made the muscles in his back ripple beneath the tight fabric of his grey shirt. You didn’t even realize you’d stopped moving, lips slightly parted, as your eyes travelled down the way his shirt clung to every ridge of his sculpted back. The fabric strained over his shoulders, and a small patch near his shoulder blades was already darkened with sweat.
You bit your lip.
“Like what you see, doll?”
Your heart practically jumped out of your chest. His voice was teasing, low, with just enough amusement to make your stomach twist. Your eyes snapped to the mirror in front of him, catching his smirking reflection.
Busted.
“I wasn’t-” You sputtered, clutching your water bottle like it could protect your dignity.
Bucky turned, slow and smooth, towel slung over one shoulder. His hair was tied back in a messy bun, a few strands clinging to his temple from the heat. That damn smirk was still playing on his lips.
“You weren’t what? Admiring the view?” he asked, walking toward you with maddening confidence. “Because, sweetheart, if you’re going to stare, at least be brave enough to own it.”
You crossed your arms, half-defensive, half trying to control your blushing. “I was just… impressed. That’s all.”
“Impressed?” He stopped in front of you, eyes narrowing with mock suspicion. “With what, exactly?”
You looked away. “Your back, okay? Your muscles. They were…moving. And it looked hot.”
Bucky grinned like a cat that just caught its prey. “Moving? Damn, that’s what does it for you?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “All this time, and I didn’t know you were a sucker for back muscles. Should’ve turned around more often.”
You rolled your eyes, trying not to let your grin take over your face. “Don’t get cocky, Barnes.”
“Too late, sweetheart.” He reached past you, brushing your arm just a little too intentionally as he grabbed his water bottle. “You know, if you ask nicely, I’ll let you touch.”
You blinked. “Touch?”
“My back.” He winked. “Might even take my shirt off, since we both know you’re dying to see it without the fabric in the way.”
“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any real venom.
“And you’re drooling.”
You smacked his arm, the flesh one, because you weren’t brave enough for vibranium. He just laughed, the sound low and rich. He leaned down a little, his lips close to your ear.
“Next time you want to stare, just come closer. I don’t bit.” he paused, his breath hot on your ear, “Unless you ask nicely.”
Your face flamed, and he just chuckled again as he walked away, muscles still flexing beneath his damn shirt, leaving you flustered, frustrated, and definitely ready for the next gym day. You weren’t going to let Bucky have the last word. Not after he caught you staring at his back like a thirsty teenager and then practically purred in your ear about it.
No, no.
This called for revenge.
Well-earned revenge.
So, the next day you dressed for the gym with a plan: tight leggings, a cropped tank top, and a sports bra that was just supportive enough to survive a workout but still left a little bounce in your step. You waited until Bucky was deep into his routine, heavy lifting, shirt already discarded, glistening with sweat like the universe had personally decided to test your patience.
You didn’t stare this time. Not openly.
You strutted past him, headphones in, pretending you didn’t notice him but oh, you noticed. And you made sure that he noticed you.
Bent just a little too slowly to stretch. Arched your back just a bit more during lunges and when he looked your way because of course he did you shot him a knowing smile like ‘You’re not the only one who can play this game, Barnes.’
Sure enough, after a few minutes, you heard a weight drop a little too loudly behind you. You smirked to yourself.
“Really, doll?” His voice was lower than usual, maybe a little breathless. “You think you’re slick?”
You turned slowly, pulling one earbud out. “I have no idea what you mean.”
Bucky gave you that look, the one that was half-amused, half-ready-to-devour. “You’ve been wiggling that ass like a metronome for twenty minutes.”
You feigned innocence. “Maybe I was just working out. It is a gym, you know.”
He stepped closer, sweaty, shirtless, and very much unimpressed by your act. “That stretch you did? You looked me dead in the eye while arching like a damn yoga instructor in heat.”
You tilted your head, biting your lip. “Oh, you mean like how you caught me staring and then spent an entire workout flexing like it was a performance?”
His grin slowly widened. “You really want to play this game?”
“I think I’m winning it.”
Suddenly, his hand was on your waist, fingers brushing just under the hem of your crop top. His voice dropped to a growl. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re going to make me forget we’re in public.”
You leaned in, lips brushing just shy of his ear. “That’s the point.”
He exhaled sharply. “You’re evil.”
You smiled sweetly. “No, I’m motivated.”
There was a long pause where your eyes locked, breathing shallow and tension thick then Bucky muttered “We’re finishing this. Not here. Tonight. Your place.”
You grinned, smug and victorious, and whispered back, “Bring the back muscles.”
He smirked. “Only if you promise to keep staring.”
*
You barely had time to light a candle before there was a knock at your apartment door.
He was there. Bucky. Leaning against your doorframe in a black hoodie and joggers that did nothing to hide the way his body moved. Hair still damp from a post-workout shower, stubble sharp, eyes darker than you’d ever seen them.
“You said bring the back muscles,” he drawled, stepping in without waiting for an invitation. “Hope you’re ready for full access.”
You arched a brow. “That was fast.”
“You’ve been teasing me for two days.” He shut the door behind him. “And don’t think I didn’t notice how you kept adjusting your leggings just so I’d look. Evil, I told you.”
You smirked. “And yet you’re here.”
He stepped closer until your back hit the wall, and his hands came up to cage you in, bracing on either side of your head. “Oh, I’m very here.”
You didn’t even have time to bite back a retort before his lips were on yours, hot, demanding, and so much rougher than you expected. His metal hand gripped your hip, pulling you flush against him while the flesh one slid under your shirt, slowly dragging upward.
“You want the shirt off?” he murmured against your lips, teasing. “I know how much you like the view.”
You tugged at the hem. “Take it off before I rip it.”
He chuckled, stepping back just enough to peel it off in one smooth motion. And there it was, those back muscles, bare now, broad and defined and utterly, sinfully beautiful. You ran your fingers across his shoulder blades, dragging your nails down slowly.
Bucky shuddered. “Shit. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”
“Every time you picked up a dumbbell.”
He laughed, but it turned into a groan when you leaned in and kissed his shoulder, biting softly just above the muscle.
“Oh, you're a problem, doll.”
“And you’re a reward for good behaviour.”
His hands were under your thighs in an instant, lifting you like you weighed nothing and carrying you to the couch. He hovered over you, gaze drinking you in like he was memorizing the moment.
“I’m going to make you say it.” he murmured. “That I’m your favourite view.” His lips were on yours again, rough, greedy, like he’d been waiting for this moment longer than he’d admit. You barely registered the way he lowered you to the couch, your legs wrapped around his waist, the heat between you both rising with every hungry press of his mouth.
“You already are.” you whispered, nails already in his back again.
He growled, lips ghosting down your jaw. “Still thinking about my back muscles?” he rasped, grinding down against you. The hard line of him pressed between your thighs, and he smirked when he felt you arch into it.
You tugged at his hair, breathless. “They’re even better up close.”
He kissed down your neck, tongue flicking out to tease the skin just before he sank his teeth into your shoulder not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp.
“I want you to remember this next time you walk past the gym like you’re not going to stop and drool.”
“You’re so cocky.” you breathed.
“And you’re soaking.” he growled.
Your leggings were gone before you could blink, tugged down and tossed aside like they offended him. Then his fingers were brushing over your underwear, teasing the damp fabric with slow, deliberate strokes that had your hips lifting off the cushions.
“You’ve been this wet for how long?” he asked, kissing the inside of your thigh. “Since the gym? Or since I showed up at your door?”
“Since yesterday,” you gasped. “You knew what you were doing.”
He chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I did.” With one strong swipe, your panties were gone, torn with the precision of someone who knew exactly how to use a vibranium hand.
“Oops,” he murmured innocently, then slid two fingers through your folds, slow and agonizing. “God, you feel even better than I imagined.”
You were about to sass him back, but then his mouth replaced his fingers. Hot, relentless, tongue curling around your clit until you were clutching his hair and biting your lip hard enough to leave a mark.
“Bucky- ” you gasped.
“Say my name again like that,” he groaned, looking up at you with those dark, ruined eyes. “Say it when I’m inside you.”
You pulled him up, impatient, desperate, tugging at the waistband of his joggers. He was already pushing them down, revealing that he hadn’t bothered with boxers. Of course. Cock hard, flushed, and thick, he stroked himself once before lining up at your entrance.
“You sure, sweetheart?”
You met his eyes, voice low. “I want everything.”
That was all he needed.
He slid in deep, stretching you, filling you and you moaned into his shoulder as he bottomed out. He paused just a second, letting you adjust, then started to move.
Slow at first. Teasing. Until your nails dug into his back again.
Then he snapped.
His pace turned punishing, driving into you hard and deep, like he was trying to prove a point with every thrust. Your body rocked with every motion, breath hitching, thighs trembling around him.
“You feel that?” he grunted in your ear. “That’s what you’ve been begging for with those little looks. That’s what you earned.”
You could barely respond, moans spilling from your lips like he’d knocked every word from your brain. All you could do was hold on and ride every wave he gave you.
“Gonna come for me, baby?” he murmured, thumb circling your clit. “Come all over this cock you were so busy staring at.”
And you did, body arching, back curling, vision flashing white as your orgasm tore through you. Bucky followed with a deep groan, burying himself fully, head dropped to your shoulder as he pulsed inside you.
Silence.
Then, a breathless laugh from him. “Still impressed by the muscles?”
You grinned weakly. “Next time, I’m staring harder.”
You were still catching your breath when Bucky leaned back against the couch, looking sinfully smug, naked, glistening, arms stretched along the top cushions like some Greek god built for wrecking your life.
“You good, sweetheart?” he teased, lips curling. “Did I ruin you a little?”
You straddled his lap before he could blink, palms flat on his chest, pinning him where he sat. “Oh, baby,” you purred. “You think you did something?”
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I know I did.”
You rolled your hips slowly against him, teasing both of you. His cock twitched between you, not even fully soft, like his body knew the game wasn’t over.
“You want to talk confidence?” you murmured, leaning in to kiss just below his jaw. “Let me show you what happens when I take control.”
Bucky groaned, eyes fluttering shut as you gripped him and lined him up again. He was still slick from the first round, sliding in slowly as you sank down on him. Inch by inch until he filled you completely.
“Fuck,” he hissed, head falling back. “You tryna kill me?”
You rolled your hips in a slow circle, hands planted firmly on his chest, nails lightly scratching down the muscle. “You can take it, soldier.”
His hands flew to your thighs, gripping them hard, trying to urge you faster but you held your pace slow, torturous, grinding down in a rhythm that had him begging now.
“You’re evil,” he muttered. “This is worse than the gym teasing.”
You grinned, bouncing a little harder now, letting the sound of skin slapping skin echo through the room. “You like it.”
“I fucking love it.” he groaned, bucking up into you.
But you grabbed both his wrists and pinned them back to the couch, smirking down at him. “Nope. You’re staying right there. Watch me.”
And he did. His eyes locked on yours, blown wide, almost desperate as you rode him slow and deep, making sure he felt everything. You clenched around him just to hear him curse. Dropped your hips down hard just to see that vein in his neck twitch.
“Look at you,” you breathed. “All those muscles, all that strength and I’ve got you melting under me.”
“Fuck, please,” he groaned. “Let me touch you.”
You leaned down and whispered against his lips, “Earn it.”
His mouth crashed into yours hot, messy, full of desperation. And that’s when you gave in, letting him grip your ass, guide your movements, thrust up into you as you bounced harder and faster, both of you chasing that edge again.
When you came, it was wild and raw. Your nails digging into his shoulders, your whole body shaking. Bucky followed seconds later, gasping your name like a prayer as he came deep inside you again.
You collapsed against him, both of you panting, sweating, utterly wrecked.
After a long beat, he nuzzled your neck. “You win.”
You smirked into his shoulder. “Damn right I do.”