old times
Brotherās Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Steveās Sister!Reader
Summary: After being absent from your familyās annual summer cabin retreat for several years, you finally make an appearance after your college graduation. Bucky canāt help but notice how much youāve changed.
Word Count: 8.2k
Content: yearning, age gap (four years), brief drug use (marijuana), alcohol consumption, smut MDNI (mentions of masturbation, oral m receiving, facefucking, swallowing, dry humping, fingering, unprotected p in v (donāt do that))
As soon as Bucky sets his duffle down on the cabin floor, he feels his shoulders loosen. The familiar smell of the wood finish fills his nostrils, and it smells like every single one of his summers since he turned thirteen.
It's good to be back.
This has been Bucky and Steve's stomping grounds for one month a year, ever since Steve picked a fight with the wrong bully in middle school and Bucky had come to the rescue. That moment sparked a lifelong friendship, one that had lasted through high school and college, those first early years of adulthood. A friendship with roots so deep that Steve's family doted on Bucky, considering him as good as blood.
This year, things are a little different. Steve's parents have stayed behind, embarking on a trip of their own to Europe in a week. While the parents are away, the young people will play ā Steve and Bucky invited a handful of friends and cousins, to drink and swim and make the most of the summer sunshine.
And for the first time in years, youāll be back in attendance at the cabin.
Bucky remembers you fondly as Steve's kid sister, a little spitfire who hung fearlessly off the back of his bike growing up, all uncoordinated limbs and wild freckles and toothy smiles. When he and Steve went off to college, you were just starting high school, and the most heās connected with you since has been through Facebook āhappy birthdayā posts and the occasional Instagram comment.Ā
You were serious about your academics, about making something of yourself, which is what kept you away so long. A real smart cookie, heād always called you. You'd graduated college in just three years, thanks to all your hard work. Internships and summer courses and work studies have stolen you away for so long that Bucky has nearly forgotten what your laugh sounds like.Ā
Until he hears it echoing off the trees outside, like a long-forgotten favorite song.
Bucky abandons Steve while he loads up the fridge with groceries (aka beer and liquor), and jogs out onto the front porch.
Coming down the dirt path is a small group of Steve's cousins, laughing boisterously, talking plans for the three weeks ahead at the cabin. A flash of hair catches Bucky's eye. You have an arm slung over your older cousinās shoulders, laughing along with the rest.
Your smile is exactly the same, but it fits your face better now, Bucky notices. You lookā¦ grown up. The untamed spirit of your youth still lives in your eyes, but youāve matured considerably elsewhere.Ā
He canāt help the way his eyes wander to your frayed jean shorts and the way they hug your hips, the expanse of thigh that lays below their ripped hemline. He tries to pulls his gaze away, but it lands on your freckled shoulders, your tank top, the neckline that slopes down to frame breasts that developed quite nicely while youāve been away.
Bucky looks down at his feet, feeling like the worldās biggest creep.
Steve had made him promise years ago to never touch you. It was long enough ago that Bucky had never even thought heād have to worry about keeping it. Bucky wouldnāt have dreamed of it ā you were Steve's kid sister. You were never even on his radar in that way before.
Suffice to say, his radar is definitely picking you up now.
āBucky!ā
He glances up to see you running full tilt towards him, bounding up the steps with your smile overtaking your whole face. You crash into him, your arms looping around his neck in a tight embrace. Bucky stumbles back slightly from the force of it, and his hands find your waist to steady you as he huffs a laugh.
He breathes you in, sunscreen and clean sweat and something fruity that makes his mouth water. You give him a squeeze, holding on for a few beats before releasing him.
Your eyes still have that familiar, impish sparkle. āHi.ā
āLong time, no see,ā he drawls, trying to keep his eyes where they wonāt get him into trouble. It doesn't work.
A large hand claps him on the shoulder, startling Bucky. Steve shoves past him and sweeps you up into a hug, spinning you around in greeting while you squeal and laugh.
It only serves to remind him of his promise. Bucky sighs and rubs the back of his neck. It's gonna be a long couple of weeks.
You have been hopelessly in love with Bucky Barnes since you were nine years old. Since the time your cousin had wrestled you into the dirt and Bucky nearly put his lights out, then cleaned the scrape on your knee with great care.
Heād never noticed you that way, and youād resigned yourself to that a long time ago. Mostly.
You threw yourself into your studies with zeal and occasionally entertained the idea of a boyfriend. They never lasted long ā A, because they were a distraction, and B, because they werenāt Bucky Barnes. Not their fault, but not something you could tolerate, either.
But now, school is behind you. For now, at least. You had been toying with the idea of a masters, but right now the idea of more school makes you want to puke. You have three weeks ahead of you with no books, no plans, no demands or schedule.
Just your family and friends and Bucky.
The moment your eyes meet his on the front porch of the cabin, you can tell something has shifted.
His hands are warm on your waist even though your clothes, and the way he looks at you makes you preen a little with satisfaction. I'm a woman now, Bucky. Surprised?
He, on the other hand, hasnāt changed a bit. He still has that slightly grown in stubble and those infuriating muscles that he started sporting in high school, much to the chagrin of your raging hormones at the time. The only thing that is different about him is the glimmer of interest in his expression, interest that has never once been directed at you before.
Every time his eyes stray towards you that afternoon, it feels like glitter rushing through your veins, shimmering and hot. You feel it everywhere.
Once everyone is sufficiently unpacked, the group loads up a cooler of drinks and grabs their bikes. The plan being to head down to the pier and watch the sunset, as a reward for a long day of driving.
You hang off the back of Bucky's bike like youāve done a thousand times before, your feet on the rear axel pegs, your hands on his shoulders. But this time, his shoulders flex lightly underneath your touch, his jaw ticks when you lean down to speak into his ear, and he keeps his eyes firmly on the road despite your attempts to distract him.
At the pier, the sun turns everything gold and red, slowly descending to kiss its reflection in the water. You glance at Bucky to find him already looking at you, and he quickly turns his head away, caught.
You grin and take a swig of your beer. This is going to be fun.
Bucky is being tested. He's sure of it.
That night, he stares at the ceiling in the top bunk until exhaustion pulls him under. He tries and fails to think of anything other than you. Those eyes. That mouth. Those thighs peeking out from those god-forsaken shorts.Ā
In the morning, he climbs down the ladder, creeps past Steve snoring softly on the bottom bunk, and out to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast for the group. He'd gotten the short straw last night, so no rest for the wicked.
The living room is littered with sleeping bodies. There's only so many beds in the cabin, and they were first come, first serve. Which had resulted in you and two of your female cousins crashing on a large air mattress in a tangle of limbs.
In the adjoining kitchen, Bucky earnestly tries to keep his eyes to himself. But youāre splayed out on the air mattress, in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that has ridden up your stomach and flimsy pajama shorts that leave nothing to the imagination.
When Bucky starts on the bacon and pancakes, the noise stirs you. You stretch, your t-shirt riding up even higher, letting out a soft little groan that doesnāt help his morning wood in the slightest. He fixes his attention on the pan and resolves to keep it there.
It wanders anyway. When it does, he finds you looking right back at him from where you lay on the mattress, watching him with interest and a little amusement. His first instinct is to immediately look away, the way he did yesterday. But he doesnāt want you to know how much youāve rattled him, so he holds your gaze for a beat before returning his focus to flipping pancakes.
He thinks thatāll be the end of it, but of course it isnāt. Before long, you untangle yourself from your cousins, who groan in protest and roll over as you stand. Bucky can hear the sound of your bare feet padding across the wooden floor toward the kitchen.
āMorning,ā you greet him in a slightly gravelly morning voice.
āMorning,ā he replies casually.
āThat smells so good.ā You pluck a grape from the bowl of fruit sitting on the counter and pop it into your mouth. āIām starving.ā
A muscle ticks in Bucky's jaw. He's not sure whatās worse ā if youāre unaware of the effect youāre having on him, or if you are aware, and doing it on purpose.
āItāll be ready in a few,ā he declares, pouring the last of the pancake batter into the pan. āSo, you enjoying your freedom from school?ā
āDefinitely.ā You hoist yourself up to sit on the counter, placing yourself very much in the way, but Bucky doesnāt have the heart to ask you to move. especially when the position grants him another tempting view of your thighs.
āYou miss me?ā you purr, playfully nudging his hip with your foot.
He doesnāt take the bait. Flipping pancakes is simple, so thatās what he does. āOf course I missed you. The place isnāt the same without you.ā
You smile, and Bucky gets stuck on it momentarily. A moment passes, tense and delicious at the same time. You just watch him, content to wait, to sit in the tension winding tighter between you.
Bucky reaches up by your head, opening a cabinet and fetching a plate. His hip brushes the outside of your knee, and he doesnāt move away immediately.
āYou planning on helping, or are you just gonna sit there staring?ā
āIām appreciating the view,ā you counter, your eyes dragging over his frame as you steal another grape from the bowl.
A chuckle slips out of him at your boldness. āYou're trouble, you know that?ā
Your eyebrow ticks, a silent dare.
And then Steve stumbles in, bleary eyed, and the moment shatters.
āPlease tell me thereās coffee,ā Steve mumbles, rubbing his eyes.
As inconspicuously as possible, Bucky shifts a respectable distance away from you to plate the bacon and quietly clears his throat. āBy the microwave,ā he says.
Steve doesnāt appear to have noticed the atmosphere he walked into, but Bucky still scolds himself internally. You make it way too easy for him to forget where he is, forget his promises and responsibilities to his friend. Too easy to forget that he shouldnāt be looking at you like that in the first place.
He shoves all of it down and brings plates of breakfast out to the picnic tables outside, leaving you and your dangling legs and sharp eyes behind.
āHey.ā
Bucky's voice rings out from behind you, into the open air of the night. You turn to see him descending the cabin steps, towards where youāre sitting on top of a picnic table, your feet resting on the bench.Ā
You'd come out here to be alone, just to have a quiet moment, while the muffled sounds of laughter and celebration from the cabin underscore your solitude. But you find that you donāt mind having your solitude disrupted, if Bucky is the one to do it.
āWhat are you doing out here all alone?ā he asks, circling the table to face you.
You glance up at the sky. āToo much light pollution at school to really see the stars. Thought I'd remind myself what they look like.ā
It really is a sight to see. Swirls of stars glittering in the dark expanse, configurations and constellations you never get to see in the city. All around, crickets chirp and cicadas sing, a familiar song floating on the balmy summer air.
Bucky looks up right along with you, just as appreciatively. Even with several feet of space between you, you can feel that tension thatās been winding tighter ever since you arrived yesterday. You wonder why he came out here tonight. If he came to find you.
āI thought all you boys were playing beer pong,ā you say with an arched brow.
Bucky smiles sheepishly, as if heās been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. From within his pockets, he produces a joint and a lighter. āIām being selfish. Don't tell on me.ā
āI can keep a secret,ā you reply conspiratorially as you pat the space beside you on the picnic table. āCāmere.ā
He hesitates, and you wait ever-patiently, watching him carefully as his brain wars with itself until he finally gives in. Keeping a careful distance ā not too far to be cold, but not close enough to touch ā he sits beside you and sparks up.
The cherry of the joint glows in the darkness as he takes a drag, and tendrils of smoke curl out from behind his lips when he exhales. Bucky looks briefly surprised when you reach for the joint, plucking it from his grasp to take a drag of your own.
Smoking isnāt new for you ā youāve indulged a handful of times at the handful of college parties youād attended between school obligations. But seeing you smoke, smoking with you, is very new to Bucky. Hypnotized, he watches your lips as they wrap around the joint, where his mouth had just been. He only manages to break his gaze away when you breathe out and let the current of smoke escape.
He shakes his head in disbelief. āIf Steve knew I was getting his little sister high, heād beat my ass.ā
Your older brother is the last subject you want to discuss right now. You pass the joint back to him, letting your hand linger just a little against his. āWhat Steve doesnāt know wonāt hurt him.ā
Following up on that comment feels a little too dangerous, and so the two of you sit in silence for a moment, passing the joint back and forth underneath the canopy of smoke and stars.
Before long, you start to feel it. That slight, pleasant heaviness in your limbs, that heightening of your senses. That warm, fuzzy feeling settling over your mind. The high is better here, in this place that has known you since you were a child, shared with someone youāre completely at ease with. You shift closer to him, your knee bumping his.
āThis is nice,ā you sigh.
āYeah,ā he agrees, something bittersweet in his tone. āReal nice.āĀ
āJust like old times.ā
āI can think of a few things that are different,ā he chuckles.
āSuch as?ā you ask, deftly snatching the joint back from him.
āYouāve grown up.ā He looks at you pointedly as you take a long drag. āQuite a bit. It's kindaā¦complicating things for me.ā
You hadnāt expected him to own up to it like that, this newfound attraction. You turn to him, passing back the joint, head tilted in curiosity. āComplicating things how?ā
He fidgets with the joint between his fingers, as if heās debating what to say or how to say it. When his eyes meet yours again, theyāre warm and dark and full of want.
āSteve made me promise. That I wouldn't touch you. That I wouldn't even look at you that way.ā
You hadnāt known about this, not really. But it doesnāt surprise you in the slightest. Steve has always been protective of you, even when he didnāt have to be.
āWhat do you call how youāre looking at me now?ā you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
āComplicated.āĀ
His gaze drops to your mouth and stays there. The night seems to fold around the two of you, heavy and hot and close.
You shift closer to him, your thigh now pressing against his.
āIām not a kid anymore, Buck,ā you murmur as you slowly lean into him. āI donāt need a big brother to protect me. I can make my own decisions.ā
For a fleeting moment, youāre close enough to breathe the same air as Bucky, lips nearly brushing his. But then he pulls away, gets to his feet, runs a hand through his hair as he looks firmly at the ground.
āI canāt. I'm sorry.ā
You donāt have the chance to say anything else, because he walks with quick strides up the cabin steps, disappearing through the screen door. The joint lays on the picnic table beside you, half-smoked and smoldering.
You sigh, frustrated, head in your hands.
Bucky should have known that wouldnāt be the end of it. Maybe if he had never said anything at all to you, it would have been easier. But now itās out in the open, and you seem to be intent on torturing him.
Itās already difficult to avoid your presence, with everyone cramped into one cabin. Even still, youāre almost always in his orbit, your laughter in the air around him, your eyes occasionally finding his across bonfires and picnic tables. Then thereās the seemingly endless parade of tiny shorts and barely-there tops and strappy little sundresses. He's sure Steve will catch him staring at some point, because he just canāt seem to keep his gaze from wandering in your direction, snagging on whatever new inch of exposed skin he finds there.
At the end of each day, Bucky forces himself under the cold stream of the shower, shamefully stroking his cock as he tries in vain to think of anything other than your hands on his skin and the way youād looked at him that night.
On the fourth day, the group heads down to the lake for a proper swim. Bucky finds himself woefully unprepared for the toll it takes on his sanity.
The trek down to the lake isnāt long, but with the noonday sun high in the sky, everyone is sweating by the time you arrive down at the dock. Clothes are eagerly shed in favor of sinking into the cool lake water. You waste no time, pulling your tank top overhead and wiggling out of your shorts.
It's not the first time Bucky has seen you in a bathing suit. But that was a different time, a different you. Gone are the sweet little one-piece swimsuits of your youth, replaced by a very enticing little bikini. Every curve of your body that the passage of time has wrought is on full display. Of course, you catch him staring, and you smile coyly before catapulting yourself off the end of the dock and into the water.
You resurface, laughing and gasping, as Bucky sets down the cooler and removes his shirt. He doesnāt have to look to know youāre watching, but he does anyway. He sees you floating on your back, observing him with a sirenās gaze.
Behind him, Steve smacks a mutual friend in the back of the head for staring at you. āThatās my sister, man,ā he warns.
Bucky's chest tightens with lingering guilt, and he hopes against hope that the water will cool the afternoon off, so to speak.
Wishful thinking.
Everyone else whiles away the hours laughing and splashing and relaxing, while Bucky is wound tight as a spring. He watches as Steve hoists you onto his shoulders, watches you squeal in delight as he tosses you into the water, and remembers the times when things could be easy and fun with you, in that way. But he canāt seem to trust himself around you anymore. It makes him feel sick to his stomach, sick of himself.
He sits on the edge of the dock, feet dangling into the water, a beer in his hands that is rapidly turning tepid from the summer heat. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots you hoisting yourself out of the water and onto the dock, lake water sluicing off your body. Bucky peels the label off the bottle and stares at the horizon while you dry yourself off.
A nudge at his shoulder grabs his attention. Youāre standing over him, a bottle of sunscreen in your hand and a smirk on your lips.
āCould you get my back?ā
Swallowing with difficulty, he looks back out towards the water where Steve and three other cabinmates are engaged in a game of chicken. He appears otherwise distracted, and it would be weirder of Bucky to refuse than just help you. It's an innocent enough activity, after all. Or it should be.
Bucky sighs and turns towards you, taking the bottle from your hands as you sit down in front of him.
You pull your damp hair over your shoulder and out of the way, glancing back at him. Bucky squeezes a dollop of sunscreen into his palm and begins to apply it to your shoulders. He works in silence and keeps his touch perfunctory, but he canāt help but note the warmth and softness of your skin.
His hands work lower and lower, until he has to slip his fingers beneath the strap of your swimsuit. He's a gentleman about it and doesnāt linger longer than he needs to, though he can feel a flush creeping into his face.
Itās so quiet for a moment that when you speak, it almost startles him. āAre you planning on ignoring me the whole rest of the trip?ā
āI'm not ignoring you,ā Bucky counters.
āBucky.ā You shoot him a skeptical look over your shoulder. āI've known you for, like, two thirds of my life. I can tell when youāre lying.ā
Bucky sighs again as he finishes working the sunscreen into your lower back and lets his hands fall away. āWhat do you want me to do?ā
You turn towards him. āI think you already know,ā you reply smartly, with an arch of your brow.
āJesus, I meanā¦ā He rubs his temple, looking everywhere but at you. āI already told you why this canāt happen,ā he says quietly.
You huff in annoyance and pick up the bottle of sunscreen off the dock. āWell, I think your little bro code is stupid.ā
Bucky chuckles under his breath in spite of himself at your bluntness.
Placing a hand on his shoulder, you turn him until heās facing away from you and begin to apply sunscreen to his back now, without having been asked. Bucky grows very still underneath your touch, trying desperately not to be affected by it. It's not really working.
āYou made your little promise when I wasā¦ what, fourteen?ā you continue. āWe're both adults now.ā
Bucky frowns. āSteve is my friend.ā
āSteve is a big boy. He'll get over it.ā
Bucky feels your hand run along his spine, nails dragging slightly, and he hates the way his cock stirs at the feeling.
āIām not gonna touch you,ā he says firmly. āNot like that.ā
āYou donāt want to?ā Youāre closer now, close enough that he can feel the warmth of your body inches from his back, your breath at his ear.
Bucky takes a deep, steadying breath. āIt's not about what I want.ā
Finally, your hands leave him, and Bucky doesnāt know whether to be thankful or disappointed.
āMaybe it should be,ā you muse softly, before getting to your feet and diving back into the water.
It's nearing the end of the first week. You've been so very, very patient. But youāre done waiting around for Bucky to stop torturing himself over nothing.
After dinner, everyone gathers around the bonfire to make sāmores for dessert. And youāre on a mission.Ā
You take up the seat directly across from him instead of next to him, where you know youāll be right in his eyeline all night. And as soon as the marshmallows come out, you put on a show.
For Steve's sake, as well as your cousins, you keep it on the subtle side. You craft a sāmore in a less-than-neat fashion, so naturally it makes a bit of a mess as you eat. And naturally, it leaves a few stray smears of chocolate and melted marshmallow on your fingers. And thereās no harm in licking away the evidence, not among friends and family. You're very thorough about it, not missing a single sticky morsel.
As you drag the pad of your thumb along the corner of your mouth and close your lips around it, you glance at Bucky across the fire pit.
Admittedly, heās doing an admirable job of keeping it together in front of Steve, but the tell is in his eyes. They're hungry, and they donāt waver when they connect with yours. It almost makes you shiver, despite the balmy temperature, and it makes you press your thighs together on instinct.
Because you know youāve got him ā hook, line, and sinker.
Phase two begins. You announce to your cousin sitting next to you that youāre heading inside to wash your hands. You make meaningful eye contact with Bucky as you stand. You turn to walk up the front steps of the cabin, screen door swinging shut behind you.
And you wait, your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.
Bucky is going to hell. He's sure of it. His fate is sealed as soon as he walks up the front steps.
But he does anyway, two minutes after you left the bonfire. It's a small consolation that no one seems to notice when he slips away.
He closes the screen door quietly, aware that this is probably the point of no return, his last chance to turn around and preserve his friendship with Steve from unnecessary risk.
He doesnāt turn back.
Light glows from the crack underneath the bathroom door down the hall. Swallowing back his nerves, he raps his knuckles softly on the door.
The door swings open, revealing you, excitement and a hint of smugness glittering in your eyes. You reach for his hand and gently pull him through the doorframe, and he shuts it behind him.
His back meets the cool wood seconds after, and his lips meet yours in a tangle of heat and desperation.Ā
You still taste sweet from your little performance with the sāmore, the smell of woodsmoke clinging to your skin. Bucky expects you to at least play at innocence first, but there is nothing innocent about this. Itās immediately filthy, your tongue in his mouth and your hands in his hair and your entire body pressed against his.
His hands find your hips, partly to steady himself and partly to bring you even closer. He tells himself that heās going to stop, that he just needs a taste of you and then he can go back out there like nothing happened. But you moan softly against his mouth, and he can already feel himself getting addicted.
Bucky had already been half-hard at the bonfire, watching you suck your fingers clean right in front of everyone without an ounce of shame. Now, as your lips wander across his jaw and down his neck, as you subtly rock your hips against his thigh, it feels like all the blood is rushing out of his brain and straight to his cock. Heās harder than heās been this entire trip so far, which is saying something, because heās been very hard, very often.
You reach for the button and zipper on his pants, and it snaps Bucky back to reality for a split second. He still has a chance to stop, to be the good guy, to not let this go any further.
āBaby,ā he pants. āI canātāā
āYou're not touching me.ā Holding his gaze, you slip your hand past the waistband of his boxers and wrap your fingers around his cock. āI'm touching you. It's okay.ā
Itās more following the letter than the spirit of the law. but when you stroke him, slow and firm from base to tip and back again, Buckyās head thuds back against the wood of the door. He knows heās not going to stop you. He's already going to hell, so he might as well enjoy the perks.
Once youāve successfully freed him from the confines of his shorts, you sink to your knees in front of him. Bucky's eyes widen as he looks down at you. Fuck, he really is going to hell, because heās about to let you do this. Heās about to let you suck his cock, all while your brother sits right outside the cabin, unaware.
Your hand slowly works him as you experimentally swirl your tongue around the tip, and Bucky lets out a shuddering breath. āJesus, youāreāā
The words die on his lips as you lick a long stripe along the underside of him, stroking a particularly sensitive vein. He lets out a startled moan, his hand finding your hair of its own accord.
āHoly shit,ā he whispers.
You donāt tease him for long. Perhaps you sense that heās too worked up for that, or perhaps you know time is limited before someone comes looking for one of you. Soon enough, you take him fully into your mouth, sinking down slowly.
Bucky watches, hypnotized. āLook at you,ā he murmurs, brushing your hair back from your face so he can watch how his cock sinks into the wet heat of your mouth, how your perfect lips wrap around him like you were made to ruin him. āGorgeous.ā
You moan around him, the vibration traveling down his cock and settling into his bones. His abs twitch and his hand tightens in your hair, and Bucky can tell this is going to be a pathetic showing of his stamina. You've barely started, and already heās starting to lose it.
Your head begins to bob, finding a rhythm as you work to take him further and further down your throat, applying the perfect amount of suction on the uptake. Bucky has to make a considerable effort to keep quiet, lest everyone outside hear exactly what the two of you are doing.Ā
Eventually, you take a long breath to prepare and take him so deep, your nose brushes the hair at the base of his cock. For a brief moment, Bucky wonders where you learned this, who youād practiced on at school, and the thought turns him a little bit feral.
You stay where you are for a moment, your throat tensing and relaxing as you struggle to accommodate him. And all of a sudden, Bucky becomes a man possessed.
His other hand tangles into your hair alongside the first. his hips twitching with the effort of keeping still, and he begs in a wrecked voice, āSweetheart, please, I needā I need toāā
Your hands slip to the backs of his thighs, squeezing lightly as you hum your encouragement.
With your permission granted, Bucky takes control. With his hands fisted in your hair, he fucks your face with with as much control as he can muster. Heās far gone, but not quite far enough where he can bear the idea of really hurting you.
You gaze up at him with hazy, dark eyes as you let him use you, saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth as he feeds his cock down your throat.
āThat's it,ā Bucky groans, low and filthy. āYou take it so fuckinā good.ā
He starts to lose the fight for control, his thrusts becoming a little rougher, a little sloppier. Tears collect at the corners of those wide eyes, and he can feel and hear you gag around him.
āI know, honey, Iām sorry, I ā Iām almost done,ā he gasps, teetering on the edge, guilt and shame and arousal swirling in his gut.Ā
You gag again, and even though Bucky is seconds away from finishing, he loosens his grip on your head to give you room to pull away. He warns you in a strangled voice, āIām gonna come, baby, fuckāā
Your grip tightens on the back of his thighs. Stubborn and determined in spite of your need for air, you take him down your throat again, eyes locked on his. Bucky shoves his fist into his mouth to muffle his groan as he comes down your throat, shuddering as he feels you gag and swallow around him. You take every single drop, only pulling off when thereās nothing left to take. You cough and gasp for air and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
Bucky gazes down at you in disbelief ā you on your knees in front of him, hair wrecked, face flushed, lips swollen. Guilt surging hot through his veins, he gently helps you to your feet.
āHoney, Iām so sorry, Iāā
āDonāt be.ā Those lips curl into a satisfied smirk.
āYou taste even nicer than I thought.ā
Bucky stands there in shock as you stretch up onto your toes to kiss him again, and he moans softly when he tastes himself on you. He responds with just as much enthusiasm, just as much hunger as before, in spite of how thoroughly youāve wrecked him.Ā
You pull away first, and he chases after your lips, still starving for more of you. Gently pressing one last kiss to the corner of his mouth, you murmur, āPeople are gonna be wondering where we are.ā
His arms tighten around your waist as he protests, āWhat about you?ā
āLater.āĀ
Bucky hisses as you gently tuck him back into his shorts, straightening out his clothes and hair with a smile.
āMeet me at the dock after everyoneās asleep.ā
You turn to the mirror and fix your own face, smoothing out your hair to look slightly less debauched.
āOkay,ā Bucky replies, a little bewildered.
Nudging him out of the way, you pull the door open, looking much more composed than he feels. āWait a couple minutes before you follow me out.ā
You slip out of the bathroom without another word.
When Bucky finally leaves the bathroom, he grabs another six pack of beer and tries not to look too visibly shaken as he heads back out of the cabin. You're already laughing with the group like the past five minutes didnāt even happen. Steve throws an arm around Buckyās shoulders when he sits back down, and it seems that nobody suspects a thing.
When your eyes meet his across the fire pit, they still glimmer with mischief and desire and the promise of more to come. And Bucky can already feel his body stirring in response, his hunger for you only momentarily sated.Ā
It's only the beginning.
The moon is a spotlight on the water as you look out from the dock.
The bonfire smoldered out about two hours ago, and youād snuck out almost an hour ago after your cousins had collapsed onto the air mattress, exhausted. The night air is cooler than it has been, a breeze coaxing goosebumps up the back of your neck.Ā
And you wait. It's made tolerable by the fact that you know you wonāt be waiting much longer.
Underneath the cicadaās song, you hear footsteps coming down the path. Bucky approaches, clad in a hoodie and pajama pants, looking almost shy with his hands in his pockets. A thrill of excitement runs down your spine just at the sight of him.
You lean back on your hands, looking him over openly. āI was starting to think you wouldnāt show.ā
āI'm not that much of an asshole,ā He chuckles sheepishly. Walking about halfway down the dock towards you, he stops for a moment, still hesitating after everything that has passed between you.
It's a little endearing and, at the same time, almost frustrating. Most of all, it makes you hungry.Ā
āYou just gonna stand there, or are you gonna come kiss me?ā you ask, a smile playing at your lips.
Bucky rises to the challenge, closing the distance and sitting next to you on the wooden dock. He reaches out a careful hand, brushing your hair back from your face in a surprisingly tender gesture, considering what transpired in the bathroom earlier. Maybe because of it. Maybe he feels a little guilty about it, though you know he shouldn't. He wouldnāt feel that way if he knew how much it had turned you on.
This time, he kisses you first, slow and sweet and entirely too patient for how long youāve been waiting for this.
Your fingers curl into his hoodie, pulling him closer. You invite him in, opening your mouth for him and letting out a soft whimper when he accepts the invitation, his tongue sliding against yours.Ā
It doesnāt take long for the kiss to turn messy, needy, heated. Youāre not sure whose idea it is for you to climb into his lap, who exactly initiated that particular move. But there you are, your hips flush against him, his cock already rising to the occasion and pressing where youāve been aching for him all night.
āYou got any idea,ā he mumbles against your lips, āhow crazy youāve made me these last few days?ā
You pull back with a smirk.
āConsider it payback.ā
āPayback for what?ā
āAll those years I was following you around like a lovesick puppy,ā you explain as you play with the strings of his hoodie, āand you didnāt even look in my direction.ā
āYeah?ā For the first time since the two of you arrived at the cabin, he breaks out into that boyish grin youāve always adored, the one that made you fall for him in the first place. He leans in and kisses the soft skin just below your jaw. āYou had a crush on me?ā
āDon't pretend you didnāt know, you dick!ā You smack his chest playfully, fighting a sigh as he drags his lips along your neck. You can feel the ghost of that smile against your skin as he laughs softly.
āOkay, okay,ā he concedes. āI might have had an inkling.ā Another kiss, this one pressed to the hollow beneath your ear, earning another quiet whimper from you. āBut I didnāt want to encourage you.ā
You like how playful heās being with you now. It's how things always should have been between you ā easy, familiar, natural, without all that guilt in the way. Without your brotherās masculine pride and overprotective nature looming over your heads.
āThis is pretty encouraging,ā you reply breathlessly, rolling your hips against his. His hard cock grinds into your clit through the layers of clothing between you, and you both gasp nearly in unison.
āJesus.ā Bucky grasps your hips to still you, looking at you seriously for a moment. āIf we do thisā¦ we canāt tell Steve."
āWasnāt planning on it.ā
You wish heād let you move again, but his eyes grow worried. āI don'tā¦ I don't have anything with me. I wasn't exactly expecting...ā
Leaning to press a brief kiss to his lips, you whisper, āI'm clean. And on the pill.ā
His eyes darken with want. āYou really have grown up, sweetheart,ā he remarks, chasing after your lips again.
Bucky loosens his grip on you, and his breath hitches as you slowly grind in his lap again.
āIām clean, too,ā he murmurs, pulling back far enough to get a good look at your face. āBut only if youāre sure.ā
You nod as you reach for the zipper of his hoodie. āIām sure.ā
Youāve never been more sure of anything in your life.
Bucky generously allows you to remove his hoodie and tug off his shirt, even more generously allows you to look your fill. Youāve seen him shirtless probably dozens of times over the years, but it never fails to spark your excitement. You run your hands down his chest, his abs, your nails dragging just slightly. He groans under his breath, the sound an echo of the ones heād made in the bathroom.
Only now, the two of you donāt have to be quiet. You're far enough away from the cabin that your moans are swallowed up by the cicadas in the trees.
Warm, calloused fingers curl beneath the hem of your t-shirt as Bucky's lips brush against your sternum. He peels the garment off of you, his eyes full of wonder and desire as he takes them over your bare chest.Ā
āYouāre so beautiful,ā he mutters, cupping your breasts in each hand.
His mouth descends to one, his hand idly exploring the other, and your gasp pierces the night air. You've waited years, a decade and some change, for him to touch you like this. His tongue carefully strokes your nipple, and it makes you ache and pulse and want him so badly you can barely breathe right.
You want to let him take his time, to stretch this moment as long as it can last. But his ministrations soon have you rocking rhythmically in his lap, seeking relief as the ache between your legs builds.
āBucky,ā you whimper, āplease.āĀ
Bucky reluctantly breaks away from worshipping your chest, and a small crease forms between his eyebrows. For a moment, you worry that the old hesitation is back, that things will stall.
āJustā¦ gimme a second here,ā he mumbles as he reaches for his hoodie.
He shifts you off his lap and spreads the hoodie out on the cool wood of the dock. Then he guides you backwards until youāre laid on top of it. The gesture makes you giggle affectionately.
āSuch a gentleman,ā you tease.
But he doesnāt laugh. He wears a hangdog expression as he leans over you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. āI'm sorry. You deserve nicer than this.ā
You tilt your head. You're exactly where you want to be. What could be nicer than this?
Sensing your confusion, he rubs the back of his neck and addresses the trees. āInside, in a real bed. Not a secret hookup in the middle of the woods.ā
You can see the guilt, the shame resurfacing his eyes, and youāll have none of that. So you reach up and take his face in your hands.
āBucky. Look at me.ā
He does, albeit reluctantly.
āThis is perfect. I'm under the stars, in my favorite place in the world, with someone I trust.ā You weave your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, hoping that honesty will break through the guilt. Softly, you amend your statement. āSomeone I love.ā
It might be too much, but itās true. You've loved him for practically your whole life. As a friend, and as more than a friend. As a fixture in your life as constant as the sun. And it feels right to tell him, even though part of you is worried that it could ruin everything.
Bucky is silent for a moment, realization filling his eyes. There's something else, too ā something like discovery, like finding something.
The silence extends long enough that it starts to make you nervous.
āToo much?ā you ask, so quiet it barely disturbs the night air.
āNo,ā Bucky replies. āNot at all.ā
His mouth dips to meet yours again, and you donāt even mind that he doesnāt say it back. You know that he loves you, even if itās not the exact same way, and you can feel how he wants you. That's more than enough.Ā
Fingers slip past the waistband of your pajama shorts, past the fabric of your underwear, until they drag through the slick mess gathered between your legs. The sound you make in response is equal parts relief and need.
Ever the gentleman, Bucky works you open, not exactly rushing, but not exactly taking his sweet time either. You can feel how bad he wants this as his hard cock nudges at your thigh, that he wants this just as bad as you do.
Then he drags your shorts and underwear down, down, until youāre naked underneath him, under the stars and the moon, in the open night air where anyone could see you if they happened to walk by. You donāt give a damn in the slightest, because Bucky is looking at you like you invented having a body, like he canāt believe youāre real.
At last, Bucky settles between your legs, shoving his pajama pants down just far enough to free himself. A slow drag of his cock against you coats him in your wetness, both of you panting in anticipation.
Ā Carefully as he can manage, he pushes inside, and you gasp at the sudden fullness. It's overwhelming and right and everything you knew it would be.
Bucky's forehead drops to your shoulder, clearly struggling to keep it together, breath ragged. āJesus christ, youāre so fuckinā tight.ā
āYou feel so āā You cut yourself off with a moan when he moves, hips withdrawing and then snapping them into yours, driving himself into you. āāso good, Buck.ā
āBaby,ā he nearly growls, hips snapping perfectly against yours once again, āyou feel like you were made for me.ā
As he moves inside you, everything else disappears ā the trees, the dock underneath you, the stars above you. You could be in a five star hotel, as far as youāre concerned. You're on cloud nine, because after years of dreaming of this moment, itās finally real. Bucky on top of you, inside of you, his moans and encouragement and endless praise on your ear. Every sound, every word, every thrust driving you closer and closer to climax.
His hand slips between your bodies, finding your clit and making your body arch beneath him as he rubs tight little circles into it. Your body clenches around him as you cry out, your pleasure climbing higher and higher. His words turn to stream-of-consciousness, rambles of pleasure and praise.
Somewhere in the middle of it, something slips out that sends you reeling through space.
āSo good,ā he groans softly, his mouth lowering to taste the sweat on your neck. āLove you so much, honey.ā
Youāre not sure if he even meant to say it out loud, but the effect is immediate and all-consuming. You clutch him against you, your heart swelling, your lips crying his name as you come apart around him.Ā
A wrecked moan spills out of him as his rhythm falters, thrusts turning sloppy and rough. āFuck, iām close,ā he pants, his eyes finding yours. āYou want me toāā
āInside,ā you beg, clutching him tighter, aftershocks of pleasure still pulsing through you. āPlease, I want it.ā
With a shudder and a curse, he buries himself inside you, hot pulses of his spend filling you as he thrusts shallowly to push it deeper. You feel claimed, marked, owned. What a glorious thing, to be claimed by him. You think if you could see yourself from the outside, youād be glowing all over like a bonfire.
As the two of you come back to yourselves, Bucky brushes a tender kiss against your jaw and carefully pulls out of you. He rolls off of you, his back meeting the wood of the dock, his chest still heaving as he recovers.
For a few moments, the two of you stare up at the glittering sky, the reality of the situation settling in now that the intensity of sensation wanes.
You turn, curling into his side, and his arm drifts around you on instinct, natural as breathing.
āDid youā¦ did you mean it?ā you ask quietly.
It could have been the heat of the moment, and you wouldnāt blame him if it had been. People say all kinds of things when theyāre about to come, things that look different in the afterglow and in the light of day. You know he cares about you. But you need to know how much truth lived in those words.
āYeah.ā He looks down at you, his eyes so soft and affectionate that it almost makes you want to climb on top of him again. His hand finds yours, fingers weaving together and resting against his chest. āI did.ā
That's when it sinks in. This isnāt a one-time, clandestine rendezvous in the woods that youāll both carry to the grave. Itās not something that will fade in the daylight. It will repeat itself. It will make demands. It will not keep to the shadows. It will not be easy to hide.
You sigh. āWe have to tell Steve, donāt we?ā
Bucky's sigh mirrors yours. āYeah.ā
āHeās gonna kill you.ā
āYeah.āĀ
His lips brush against the crown of your head, his voice already resigned to his fate. āStill worth it.ā
Bucky taglist: @globetrotter28 @biaswreckedbybuckybarnes @stokzr @buckys-dollface19
