This Is Stella's Reality

August 10, 2014

When he spoke, his voice was a low growl that vibrated in my ears, "Do you know what you do to me, doll?"

I shivered and opened my mouth to speak, but Bucky continued, "Do you know how undone you make me? How often I think about you?"

What?

"The way your lips move? How your hips sway when you walk? Your hair falling down your back?" Bucky stepped closer to me, crowding me against the ring. His voice was deep, "I don't know what this is between us, but I do know I need you, in whatever way I can have you."

Oh.

My heart was frozen in my chest, and I thought I had died. In this moment, nothing existed but Bucky towering over me, growling about how attracted to me he was.

I swallowed my hesitations, "So, why are we here?" My voice came out a squeak in the silence, opposite the effect Bucky's voice had on the space.

His hand took my elbow and led me from the boxing ring to the weapons closet. "Wait," his voice was stern. He disappeared into the closet and emerged with pretty silver daggers. They reflected the moonlight that was pouring down from the ceiling's skylights.

Bucky plucked one from the case and held it between his fingers. Without speaking, he sent it flying across the room to a target several meters away. It hit with perfect accuracy and minimal effort.

His eyes were on me, "I need to let off steam, and seeing as your the one that put me in this situation, you're going to be here too."

My mouth opened in protest, he asked to kiss me, but Bucky's metal hand grabbed my jaw and squeezed. His eyes pierced mine, "Do not speak."

Fuck, he's hot.

Bucky's hand turned my waist around and led me closer to the targets across the room. He took another dagger from the case and flipped it in his hand, catching it every time. His eyes were studying me, "Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me when I have my knives."

There was no denying I had an infatuation with them. The way they twirled between his fingers, slicing through the air. They were dangerous and beautiful, and Bucky was a talented combatant. It was entertaining to watch him fight. The way his body moved with the knives, flipping, catching, twirling, slashing, it was all attractive.

My eyes didn't leave his hands as they caught the dagger over and over. His voice was an echo in my ears.

I heard him laugh, "Come here." It was a command. One I fantasized about the consequences of disobeying. My feet moved without hesitation, standing by his side, my eyes looking at his for the next instruction.

His face held a smirk, "Face the target at an angle." His hands moved my shoulders perpendicular to the wall. "Hold this," Bucky dropped a dagger between my fingers. It was light and the silver metal was cool. It glistened in the low light of the night.

Bucky's voice was a low whisper in my ear as he ducked his head next to mine to see what I saw, "Extend your wrist back, and flick it towards the target. Like you're throwing a frisbee."

I nodded, aware of how his hands were holding my hips against his. I did as he said, and my dagger hit the target, but it clattered to the ground without sticking.

Bucky handed me another dagger, "Again."

And again I tried, the dagger clattering to the ground the same as the first. I felt Bucky sigh behind me, his chest rising and falling into my back. He turned away from me and grabbed two other knives from the dagger case. They were larger than the daggers, more dangerous.