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2020-09-06
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She Doesn't Blush

Summary:

So, I'm just really fucking pissed at the year 2020 and it's stolen every ounce of creativity from me. But...I need to get back to writing, period. And this fandom could always use good loving smut and I'm happy to provide.

This is unbeta-ed so, expect both typos and smoothing out in the future.

This is just a romantic, slow, somewhat heady, a little filthy, adoration-fuck. Enjoy!

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

She doesn't blush.

 

When Bucky first met Shuri, he immediately liked her.

Not romantically.

Not at first.

But he enjoyed the way she juggled maturity, playfulness, and a bright optimistic curiousity --courtesy of her unparalleled brilliance.

Wakanda was the only place a young woman like Shuri could thrive at her fullest potential.  That he knew, and he wondered at all the kindling out in the world, outside of the barriers of Wakanda, that would never see a spark.

...But spark to a flame she did; a blaze to a rapturous roar so bright and hot, he could hardly believe she could sustain it, - but she did.  And somehow, when he came to realize that he loved her, that she loved him back, he sustained it too.

 




James seemed determined to see me like the girls he knew in his time. Simple, delicate, little things whose ambitions were mostly confined to the limitations of the day and place.  He was and still is, in his way...so protective of me.  At first, from himself, until I told him what I saw of him. --What I knew of him. All of him, before he'd awakened for the first time in my presence. 

I'm a scientist. I've come to knowledge of men, body and soul through observation and practice. I haven't been a novice in this for a decade. And though I am still young, I believe my way of conceptualizing these things to be quite far removed from that of outsiders.

Our sheltered paradise has afforded us an open-mindedness, James seemed at first perplexed by, and then...grateful for.  

Old embattled soul that he is, he can relax in the knowledge that judgment of his trials, of his "gone time" won't come here.

He didn't understand, at first what I saw in him. What made me love him.  But he sees now that I love that he has remained who he is despite what they tried so hard to take. Still the gentle protector who befriended a small kind-hearted boy, who was so physically fragile and mentally tough in a day when many would not dare even acknowledge such as a full person, for his hindered size and endurance.

Wolves are not broken creatures, -they seek. Loyalty to their pack encompasses much of who they are. 

Like my Ingcucka.

I knew that he wanted me before he did.  

He denied it and himself for so long because of the rare crystalline piece he'd made of me in his mind. Something so far above and beyond him... Something that should not be shattered by his desires, but placed safely in the light.


...Outside men and their strange chivalry.


I eventually seduced him.

And while he was softened by my attentions, I convinced him that my soul is not crystal, but vibranium like that of my people. And he finally felt free to take his fill of me.

He knew that he would not break me.

 

 


 


She doesn't blush.


She has taken me to carnal and emotional heights I would not have thought possible. Me, one-armed and covered in blood that will never wash away. She meets my eyes when we fuck, --doesn't look away. She bites and licks and sucks until I flail and beg. 

Smiles like a cat when I tip over the edge. Explores every part of me like there's nothing broken or missing. Like I'm complete, as she's made me, with or without her arm attached.

Even now... She has her secrets.

But that is just an aspect of our connection. She's mine completely even with all her hidden spaces.


 


 


Today, she comes mind spent, body abuzz, eyes on James as she sheds her clothes.

He knows this hunger well. Endeavors to sate it. Easily hefts her petite frame in his arms so her legs cross behind his back, toes flexing as he devours her mouth and carries her to his bed.

She bounces a little on it, the little jewels adorning her hair pleasantly clacking. She leans forward, biting her bottom lip and stares up at those cool colbalt eyes, as she undoes his pants and frees him. She takes hold of him and watches his eyes dilate, his breaths hitch, and the color of him change. She puts something in her mouth before him... A small capsule, then directs him to her mouth. He throws his head back in realization that the capsule creates so much slip, and other interesting sensations.


"ah-ah-fuck."


She's relentless. Cupping his cheeks and urging him to fuck her mouth.

There is a pull-up bar above him. He grips it so tightly it gives a little, indentations forming in the metal with a high-pitched whine. He's captive to feeling now, nothing but her mouth on him and being so fucking close...Until everything gives way to his blinding climax.

He settles onto the bed afterward, catching his breath. Wondering how...   

She's watching him, her hands lightly toying with the dark hair on his belly.

And then cold, ice cold metal between her legs, slicking her lips, swirling around her already sensitive bud. She hisses through clenched teeth as one and then two metal fingers curve inside her.  Her legs fall apart and her eyes almost close as she watches Bucky crawl over her prone form. His long hair briefly brushing over a nipple before he sucks a kiss just below her heaving belly, as the rhythm of his fingers increases in tempo and makes undignified sounds with every movement.   


His mouth descends on her. At first gently kissing, incongruous to the steady pulse of his fingers, and then sucking. Shuri moans and lifts her hips off the bed. His tongue circles and flicks as he sucks. She huffs and curses in Xhosa.


Her body stiffens as she tilts towards the precipice and he adds a third finger to help her along. Wave after wave sweeps over her body and he doesn't let up. His non-metal hand gently squeezes her hip as she comes down.


He kisses her and eases his fingers from her, as she whines in his mouth a little at the loss. She's still thrumming with aftershocks, when he takes hold her of waist-beads and sits up on his knees. He drags her further up onto his lap and slowly eases himself in.


She gives him a wide-eyed look as her mind semi-processes the fact of the serum and quick recoveries and lets her head fall back, as he begins to fuck her in earnest. 

She watches through heavy eyes he moves within her, beads still gathered in hand as his thumb skims across her belly-button.

...The way he looks at her.  His brows knitted together, his eyes soft, his lips wet and parted.  ...The greed in his expression.

There is something darkly divine about this. Some aspect of the soldier's singular drive, brought to the fore in their love-making.

A drive to possession and adoration. He sucks at his metal fingers. Closes his eyes and savors the taste of her as he fucks her, so utterly filthy in the depth of his reverence in this.

He slows and spreads her wider, folds her beneath him so he can penetrate deeper. He knows she can handle it now. Both gasp at the movement.

Shuri reaches up and curves her hands around his back, keeping him tethered.

They are slick with perspiration and breathing heavily as the momentum and depth increases.


He dips his head to the cradle of her shoulder and sucks his mark there, before he grunting, swallowing, and stilling his body... Finds his end, yet again.


Shuri eases her arms further around him as he collapses, utterly spent and nuzzles in closer. 

She calls him ''Ingcucka," with a soothing, loving, crackly voice and kisses his brow...


And he gazes at this wonder. 


...This beautiful woman, he was privileged to be with -- to love so intimately. 

And she looks at him straight on.

Settled now that she's had her fill of him, gloriously unabashed and comfortable.


And still...



She doesn't blush.



Notes:

She doesn't "blush" is both a metaphor and a little mental joke, since she really can't visibly since she's black.

She's not shy. She's learned and she's been raised among an advanced people. Yes, she's silly and sweet and loving, but I also see her in her twenties as being self-assured and mature in her sensuality in giving and taking in love. Meanwhile, Bucky is the old fashioned one, who needs permission to be free in that way.

That's where this came from.