Today, Steve had slept in far longer than he should’ve. He woke to the warmth of early morning gleaming through the sheer bedroom curtains, heating his flushed skin as he fought the urge to return to his slumber.

He cracked his eyes open, finding the clock on the wall that read just past eight in the morning. With a languid sigh and a stretch of his limbs, he rolled over to find you asleep on your side, facing away from him and bare except a thin pair of underwear. 

Your practically-nude figure seemed to glow in the early morning, a dream of radiant seduction bathed in golden sunlight. Steve’s gaze flitted over your body, lingering on the peaks of your breasts and the curve of your scantily-clad backside. 

Even in your sleep, you seemed to seek Steve’s presence, retreating backwards until your hips pressed snugly into his. Steve’s hand came to rest on your waist, his large palm splayed across your bare stomach in a soothing, protective manner. He pressed his fingers against your warm skin, feeling your shallow intakes under his touch. 

Steve’s other hand smoothed your hair, moving it over your shoulder to place kisses down the back of your neck. His lips traced over your heated skin languidly, a pleasure that Steve often had to forego in his busy morning routine. 

A content smile graced your sleeping features, filling Steve with a sense of appreciation for the life he had created with you. This was how he wanted to start every morning, this was where he wanted to spend his days. 

Steve’s lips traveled up your neck and over your jaw, leaving hungry, open-mouthed kisses in their wake. He felt himself twitch in his boxers, his growing need tenting the fabric as you pressed yourself closer to him. 

His grip on your middle tightened as he began to rut against your backside, small groans leaving his throat as he continued to nip and suck at your skin. You sighed deeply, rocking with Steve’s motions as your eyes fluttered open. 

You surveyed the room, disoriented by the glare hitting your face and the presence of Steve behind you so late in the morning. Usually by this time, he’d be returning from his morning run, dripping sweat from the tips of his hair and mumbling under his breath to avoid interrupting your sleep. 

Deciding to take advantage of his salacious behavior, you placed your hand over top of his, guiding it down until his fingertips pressed against your clothed core. His digits slipped under the thin fabric of your underwear, instantly finding your clit and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Scrunching your features at the groggy pleasure, your grip on his wrist tightened, surely leaving red marks on his skin. His movements were languid, almost teasing as he continued to toy with your clit idly. 

“G’morning, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your ear, voice raspy and heavy with sleep. 

You moaned in response, bucking your hips into his hand in search of more friction. Even in your sluggish state, you could feel Steve press his erection against you, desperate to remove the barriers that separated you from him. 

“Looked so peaceful laying in the sun, couldn’t resist playing with my pretty girl.” 

His pointer continued its ministrations against your clit while his middle and ring fingers dipped into your dripping core, curling until you were mewling under his touch. 

“Steve,” you gasped, fighting to keep your eyes open.

“Feel good?” 

You nodded, unable to form a response as you concentrated on finding your release. Just as you were nearing the edge, Steve withdrew his fingers, peeling your underwear down your legs and discarding them on the floor. His boxers followed in their path, tossed towards the end of the bed aimlessly as Steve took in the sight of you completely bare before him. 

“Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy?” Steve asked, running his hand over his hard cock. 

“Please,” you begged, turning your head to find Steve’s piercing gaze. 

“Please fuck me, Steve. Need to feel you,” your speech slurred with want, head still foggy from waking up moments ago. 

He hummed at your pleading, tapping the head of his cock against your opening and collecting the slick that covered your folds. 

Steve slid himself in, biting back a moan and nudging his nose against your cheek. 

“So good for me,” he whispered under his breath. “Always so good.”

You gasped at the feeling of his slow thrusts filling you from behind, a taunting promise of more pleasure to come.

His hand slid under your thigh, holding your leg up to give him a better position to drive into your cunt with a steady force, hitting your g-spot each time before pulling out quickly. 

“Keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart.”

Steve’s words broke you out of your haze, realizing that your eyes had fallen shut with the pleasure that he was providing. He rocked his muscular thighs against your backside, hurtling the two of you towards a quick release. 

The knot in your stomach snapped suddenly, mouth falling open as you shuddered through your orgasm. Your walls fluttered around Steve’s length, causing him to groan as he plowed into your tight channel, reaching his own high just after yours. 

Steve’s hips stuttered to a stop, grip tightening around your thigh as he flexed inside of you, filling you with his warm cum. The two of you shared a satisfied sigh as Steve lowered your leg, hand finding its place on your waist and pulling you close. 

“Good morning to you too,” you simpered, trying to avoid jostling Steve’s length that was still buried inside of you. 

He offered a leisure grin in response, memorizing the rapture that he felt in that moment. The two of you were completely swathed in warmth from the rising sun, huddled together in a mess of tangled limbs and balmy skin. 

“I wish we could spend all day like this,” you spoke, feeling Steve’s erratic heartbeat against your back. He hummed in agreement, placing a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

Bucky had gifted you his dog tags a while ago, a covert promise that he belonged to you, and you alone. Now that he was halfway across the world, the tags served to anchor you in place, to remind you of his vow to always find his way back to you. 

The metal chain rarely left your neck, often hidden behind layers of clothes and away from the prying eyes of others. The tags were a tribute to you and sat over your heart where Bucky had made his home. 

Early this morning, Bruce had found you in the kitchen, telling you the news of the mission’s end. 

“They’ll be home before midnight,” he had said before wandering back to the lab.

Your day was jumpstarted, like a shock had run through your body. You made quick work of preparing for Bucky’s return, cleaning and trying to contain your excitement at the thoughts of having him next to you again.

The day passed and you were practically buzzing as you sat in your spot on your shared bed. You had received the notification that the jet had landed, and you knew there was nothing in the world that could keep Bucky away a moment longer.

You sat on your haunches, feet tucked under you like a picture of serenity. A chill ran through the air and you shivered, bare to the world except Bucky’s dog tags around your neck.

They clinked together with every movement and shifted against your skin as you took in a shuddering breath. You knew Bucky would appreciate the sight of you waiting for him so patiently. 

With that thought, light filtered in through the doorway and Bucky appeared in front of you. All at once, the weight of the situation hit you; Bucky was safe, and he had come home to you just like he had promised.

The two of you shared a small gasp as Bucky looked over your exposed body. You had both waited so long for this reunion, and you could practically feel yourselves gravitating toward each other.

Bucky slowly closed the door behind him, hoping that this was more than a pleasant dream. He thought about pinching himself to make sure that this was real but didn’t want to wake himself in the case that it wasn’t.

“Welcome home, Sergeant.”

Your voice was quiet and sultry, a beacon of desire that that guided him to where he belonged.

Bucky approached you with orchestrated steps like he had planned this entire moment in his mind.

“I missed you, doll.”

He stopped just out of reach, watching the light reflect off the dog tags around your neck. 

His eyes trailed down your frame, admiring the eloquent pose that you had taken. With your chest pushed out towards him, you looked like you were trying to close the distance between his body and yours.

He reached forward to run his fingers over the metal chain, stopping at the disks that rested between your breasts.

“Missed a lot about you.”

“What did you miss, Buck?”

“Everything.” His answer was instant.

“Missed the way you feel in my arms, missed your lips on mine, your hands running over me, touching me like you know exactly what I like.”

“Sounds like we have a lot to make up for.”

He sent you a lopsided smirk, hands ghosting down your ribs and over your naval.

“I think you’re right, doll.”

In that moment, everything was perfect. His lips found yours in a devastating kiss, making up for every second that you had gone without his touch.

You groaned into the kiss as Bucky’s tongue met yours, passionate in this unity.

Wordlessly, his hands began to memorize your body, brushing over your shoulders, your spine, your thighs — everywhere except where you needed him most.

Your fingers twisted into his shirt, gripping the material tightly to bring him impossibly close. You couldn’t stand this barrier between the two of you and you began pulling at whatever fabric you could reach. 

Bucky’s hands left your body for just a moment, pulling a breathy whine from you in objection. His hands joined yours in hastily removing any offending article of clothing before pushing you back onto the bed and joining you there. 

His warm breath puffed over your face as he laid over you, drinking in your dazed expression.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” he spoke gruffly before pressing open mouth kisses down your neck and across your collar bone. 

“Missed this,” his teeth grazed your jaw at just the right spot.

“Missed this,” he bit down on your skin softly, pulling a moan from you as his tongue laved over the red mark he had left there.

“Missed these the most.” His hands grabbed at your breasts roughly before his lips settled around your left nipple. The combination of his lips and fingers pulling at your breasts was something indescribable, leaving you writhing in place below his domineering frame. 

Before you could catch your breath, Bucky had moved further down your body, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake.

“Never leaving again, doll. Not when I’ve got a pretty thing like you waiting at home for me.”

You couldn’t produce much more than a whimper in response, bucking your hips into his face in a restless plea for attention. 

His hands pressed down onto your hips, keeping you in place as he worked his way back up. Bucky had always been one to appreciate your body, showing attention to every inch of skin before he would finally give in and devour you whole.

“S’pretty for me.”

“For you, Bucky,” you echoed, already slipping into a blissful state.

He hummed at your response, sitting up and moving his hands to your knees.

“Gonna take care of you, darlin’. Gonna make up for leaving you all alone.”

He tightened his grip, pushing your legs apart and reveling in the sight before him. He had dreamed of this very moment for almost exactly three weeks, and he couldn’t contain his groan in anticipation. 

One hand snaked down your thigh, leaving goosebumps over the warm skin.

He wanted to make you beg. He wanted to hear your euphonious pleading, to tease you until tears threatened to spill past your waterline. And if it were any other night, he would’ve. But he had been gone far too long, and he wanted to hear you sing. 

His fingers plunged into you without warning, quickly working you open with his digits. 

“You like that, sugar?”

Your soft moans filled the air and Bucky pressed into you harder, hoping to pull more of the sweet sounds from your open lips.

His fingers curved just the right way, always hitting that spot inside of you perfectly. Your arousal dripped down the inside of your thighs and over his knuckles, leaving Bucky transfixed by the sight.

He pulled his fingers out abruptly, leaving you gasping and just short of being thrown over the edge. 

“Can’t wait any longer, gotta feel you,” he rushed out, returning to his knees and pulling your legs around his waist.

One hand went to his cock, running over the head once, twice, three times before tapping it against your clit.

You held your breath as he placed the tip at your entrance, waiting for that exultant feeling. 

He filled you up in one swift motion, the sounds of your shared groans blending together until they became one.

Bucky leaned over you again, trapping you with his forearms pressed into the mattress on either side of your head. 

His face hovered directly over yours, sharing in the warm pants that you gave off.

“Missed you so much, doll. Missed this pussy – my pussy.”

His thrusts became fast, pounding into you with fluid movements.

“Dreamt about you. Every. Single. Night.”

His words were accentuated with harsh thrusts and you tightened your legs around his waist in hopes of enduring his quick speed.

The sound of Bucky’s dog tags clinking together had been a constant throughout the evening, but it still brought the two of you a sense of belonging.

Leaning his weight onto his metal arm, Bucky reached down and grabbed the disks, bringing them into your line of sight.

“You kept these on the whole time I was gone, doll?”

You nodded in affirmation, barely comprehending his question in your hazy stupor. 

“Uh-huh. Never taking ‘em off.”

Bucky gave you a toothy grin, pleased with your response.

“That’s good, darlin’. Want everyone to know you belong to me.”

He inspected the dog tags for a moment before reaching them up towards your face, his cock still sliding into with vigor.

You puckered your lips, leaning up to press them sweetly against the dog tags that Bucky held between the two of you. 

He groaned at the sentiment, dropping his head and trying to stave off his impending orgasm. 

“I’m close, sweetheart.”

Your head nodded erratically in time with his thrusts. “Me too.”

He abandoned the dog tags against your chest, moving his hand down to circle against your clit.

“Wanna feel you cum around me. Let go, doll.”

“God — Bucky,” you cried out at his actions, hitting your peak with a blinding pleasure that sparked through your entire body.

Bucky’s thrusts faltered, following you in your state of rapture. His cum filling you and leaked out with his last sporadic thrusts.

In your post-orgasmic bliss, you barely registered the kisses that Bucky pressed against your balmy skin.

You reached up to place a hand on his cheek as your legs tangled with his, not ready to let him go just yet.

“I missed you, Bucky.”

Your voice was peaceful, like the torment of the last three weeks had been forgotten.

His lips curled into a hint of a smile, cherishing the sentiment behind your words. Bucky had someone to come home to, someone who loved him without hesitation. 

He leaned down once more, leaving a soft kiss against your lips, a contrast to the intensity your reunion.