Wildflower
Chapter 8: He's Mine
masterlist
Pairing: single dad, farmer!bucky x florist!reader word count: 5.9k mentions: 18+, enemies to lovers, slow burn, sexual tension, angst and hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, sex, f!reader, small town, mutual pining, daddy kink synopsis:
After your grandmother’s passing, you inherit not only an empty house but also a failing floral shop teetering on the edge of closure. As you settle back in town, your bad day only gets worse after a horrible run-in with none other than the grumpy local farmer and single dad, Bucky Barnes. Immediately off the get-go, you despise each other. You both made a silent vow to never cross paths again. But this town is too small for the both of you. Especially after you reluctantly hire a moody teenager named Jamie to help around the shop… not realizing he’s Bucky’s son.
You pause for a moment, glancing over her shoulder. Bucky’s still busy with Steve, their attention locked on the drink setup. But that’s fine. You didn’t need Bucky or anyone else to back you up. You could handle a woman like her.
You weren’t his girlfriend, no, but the temptation to let her think you are was just too great to resist. So, for now, you don’t deny her question. Instead, you grazed it over.
“You must be Talia—Jamie’s mother,” you greet with a smile that’s sweet enough to give her a toothache.
She pauses, thrown off guard by the welcoming gesture. “That would be me,” she shakes your hand stiffly. “You must be the flower girl everyone is talking about.”
“Yup. I run a floral shop just a few streets down. I heard you came from the city,” you say, your eyes flicking down to her perfectly manicured hands, her expensive pointed toe heels that are sinking into the grass, and then back to her perfect-picture face. And it kills you to know that Bucky’s ex just had to be an infuriating attractive woman.
“It’s so nice of you to come all this way for your son’s birthday party.”
Talia gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. When she retracts her hand, she subtly wipes it on the leg of her pristine black slacks. Bitch.
“Jamie can be very persistent,” she says with a laugh, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “The drive was long and exhausting, but I figured I owed him. So—here I am.” She smirks.
It’s bullshit. It’s merely a couple hours of drive, and after knowing that Jamie had to practically beg her to come only made you more upset.
You’re trying to be polite—for Jamie’s sake—but every word that leaves her mouth stretches your patience thinner and thinner.
“I’m sure four hours felt like nothing compared to the chance to spend time with your son,” you say with subtle passive aggressiveness. “Being his mother and all, I’m sure just seeing him makes it worth the trouble.”
Talia doesn’t seem to pick up the undertone in your words. Instead, she smiles at you like you’ve just given her a genuine compliment. She tosses her head back in a soft laugh, her fingers brush a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Oh, it’s nothing, really,” she says while waving you off. “Four hours isn’t that bad with the right podcast. Besides, Jamie can be so dramatic. You’d think the world was ending if I missed one birthday.”
Your brow twitches in annoyance as she takes a sip of beer, completely oblivious to how ridiculous she sounds right now.
She turns to you again, her eyes drifting over you in a way that isn’t even subtle. She’s deliberately judging you from head to toe, taking you in.
“You seem like a smart girl,” she begins again with that false warmth in her tone. “I’m sure you understand how exhausting all this can be. The small town, the dirty farm, teenage kids. I don’t know how you can do it.” Her eyes move up and down again on you, slower. “Being James’ girlfriend and all.”
You cross your arms defensively, raising your brow. “James?”
“Oh,” Talia’s eyes widened in an exaggerated surprise, “you didn’t know that’s his first name? Hm…” She points her perfectly manicured finger at her chin. “Then maybe you’re not his girlfriend after all.”
Your jaw clenches. The longer this woman is in your presence, the more your blood boils. You need an escape.
You clear your throat, forcing a tight smile. “I should go—”
As you move to walk past her, Talia’s hand snaps out and grabs your wrist, stopping you.
And right now, it’s taking every ounce of restraint to not whip around and smack her clean in the face for touching you.
“If you’re thinking about dating him…” she says, tilting her head subtly in Bucky’s direction. You glance over to see him still deep in conversation with Steve.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” she continues with that annoyingly sweet voice. “All he cares about is the farm and Jamie. He won’t make the time and effort to care for your own needs.”
Your eyes bore into her eyes, and as you’re looking into her perfectly made-up face, you realize that she isn’t the clueless, oblivious woman you originally thought she was. Nope. She knows exactly what she’s doing. That forced soft tone and that fake sweetness in her smile was all an act—a performance to get under your skin. She’s not innocent. She’s manipulative.
And she’s good at it.
You open your mouth, ready to tell her off and knock that smug expression off her face, but you’re cut off by a familiar voice shouting from across the yard.
“Hey!” Nat calls, waving you over with a grin. “Come on, grab a bite to eat!”
You turn back to Talia with a tight-lipped smile. “I gotta go greet the rest of the party,” you yank your arm back from her grip. “It was nice talking to you.” Before she can utter a single word, you storm off in the opposite direction, your jaw clenched so tight it hurts.
Thank God for Nat. If she hadn’t spoken up, you’re pretty sure Talia would already be on the ground with a broken nose.
You slid into the empty seat beside Nat, groaning.
“She’s fucking terrible.”
Nat slings an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in and squeezing reassuringly. “We tried to warn you,” she grinned.
“Try not to let her get to you,” Vision adds calmly from across you. “She wants under your skin. Don’t give her the satisfaction.”
“Trust me. I’m trying,” you let out a heavy sigh, resting your chin on your palm. Your eyes start to drift absentmindedly towards Steve and Bucky’s direction again, now joined by Sam.
Bucky was deep in conversation with the both of them. He pushes his hair back as his eyes flickered towards your direction, meeting your gaze. When you two lock eyes, you both hold it for a moment, and for a second, he gives you a concerned look before Wanda appears beside you, sliding a paper plate of food in front of you.
“What’d that evil witch say to you?” Wanda questioned bluntly, settling into the seat across from you beside Vision.
“Some bullshit about the drive here,” you mutter, poking at the food. “And she warned me not to bother… getting involved with Bucky.”
Wanda leans in, confused. “Get involved how?”
You hesitate, glancing in Bucky’s way again. He’s still watching you, even in the middle of his own conversation. You quickly look away.
Letting out a soft sigh, you’re about to respond just before Vision cuts right through.
“Ah, she sees you as a threat,” he points out with a smile on his face. “She’s under the impression that you’re romantically involved with Barnes.”
You give Vision a look and subtly shake your head to try to get him to stop talking, but he breezes on through anyway without a care in the world.
“Which makes sense. Back when we went bowling for my birthday, he was harboring very intense sexual frustrated feelings—”
“Vision,” you groan, covering your face with one hand, mortified. “Would you quit it?”
Nat exchanges a look with Wanda—as they always do—before they both look back at you in surprise. “Wait a minute…”
“Not this again,” you warn quickly, holding up a hand. But even you knew it was futile.
“What happened between you and Bucky?” Nat leans in with that whisper-shout tone that’s barely whisper and all shout.
“Nothing happened—”
Wanda interrupts you, leaning in too. “Something had to happen. Talia wouldn’t feel threatened if there was nothing.”
You sighed as your eyes drifted over to Bucky yet again. Wanda and Nat follow your gaze and they give each other that look a second time before grinning widely.
“You two slept together?” Nat teased, wiggling her eyebrows.
You sat up straight, your eyes going wide. “What—no!” you sputtered, shaking your head furiously. “Jesus, no. We did not sleep together.” You sat there, flustered and embarrassed like a goddamn teenager while your friends stared at you with a raised brow—not buying your answer.
With a shaky exhale, you spoke again. “We didn’t sleep together,” you repeated. “We… actually—”
But before you could finish, you get interrupted by the sound of Talia’s aggravating voice cutting from across the yard.
“Jamie!” she yells out loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. “Get over here!”
The table turned towards her voice. Jamie tensed, casting a quick nervous glance at his friends before slowly making his way over. The group of boys around him awkwardly stepped back, trying not to look like they were eavesdropping. You frowned, glancing just in time to see Wanda, Nat, and Vision slouching back into their seats like this wasn’t anything new.
“Talia’s gearing up for one of her ‘lectures,’” Nat explains, resting her chin on her palm. “She always pulls this crap when she’s around. It’s her way of pretending to parent, like she’s proving something to Bucky.”
“Although,” Vision added, “it’s never actually helpful. She’s just needlessly harsh to Jamie to make a point.”
Your gaze flicked over to the drinks table again. Bucky stood there, arms crossed, his eyes now locked on his ex and son. His stance was stiff, guarded, and he looked ready to step in the second things turned south.
But you didn’t want to wait for things to turn south. You were already halfway out of your seat when Nat’s hand wrapped around your arm, stopping you.
“What are you doing?” she whispered sharply.
“What the hell does it look like I’m doing, Nat?” you snapped back in a quiet hiss. “I’m stopping her.”
“Don’t,” Vision warns you. “It’ll only make things worse.”
You furrow your brows. “And why the hell not? If we know she’s being cruel, why shouldn’t someone step in?”
Nat shakes her head. “Trust us, we’ve tried. It only makes things worse for Jamie and Bucky. It’s not our place to get involved.”
Wanda subtly tilts her head towards Bucky’s direction. “He’s watching. He’ll step in if it goes too far. Let him handle it.”
You take one glance back at Jamie who’s already mid conversation with his mom. Based on Talia’s hand motions and the way that Jamie’s standing—timid, shoulders hunched—even from here, it was obvious that it wasn’t going well.
With a one last hesitant glance over at Bucky, you see that he’s standing with a stern look on his face, carefully observing.
You remained standing for a second longer, looking at Jamie again. Everything in your gut screamed at you to move and protect Jamie, to say something, to stop Talia from whatever steamrolling she’s about to do to this poor kid. But with a reluctant sigh, you finally forced yourself to sit down.
As much as you hated it, your friends were right. You weren’t part of their family, even though deep down you cared for them like they could be—it wasn’t your place to get involved.
Nat frowns as she gives your arm a reassuring rub. “It’ll be okay. Bucky won’t let it go too far.”
You didn’t trust yourself to speak. You were already a firecracker ready to explode. One wrong word and you might just blow. So instead, you just give her a nod, jaw clenched, and turn your attention back to your plate, mindlessly prodding at the food just to keep your hands busy.
The conversation around the table slowly resumes, laughter and small talk picking back up. But you couldn’t help but stay tuned in to Talia’s voice that is barely out of reach.
“You’re wasting your potential out here, Jamie,” she said, her arms crossed as she stared down at Jamie. “This farm—” she gestures around her, “the flower shop... what is any of that actually doing for your future?”
Your brow twitched. Your fork scraped against the plate a little too hard as you kept poking at your food.
“Seriously? A flower shop?” she laughed bitterly. “You think that’s going to take you anywhere? You should be focusing on real options. Colleges, internships. Actual careers. None of that exists out here in the middle of nowhere. You should be in the city. With me.”
“I like working here,” Jamie muttered quietly.
Talia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “That’s because you don’t know any better. You’ve been stuck out here too long—with your father and his damn rust bucket of a truck.”
Your eyes snapped to Bucky with a sharp glare. He was still standing by the drinks table, watching, jaw tight.
Why the hell is he not stepping in?
“You have no idea what you’re capable of,” Talia continued, leaning in closer to Jamie. “But if you stay here, wasting time on this ridiculous farm and with those people, you never will.”
You glance over your shoulder, watching Jamie blink rapidly, swallowing hard like he’s trying to force down a cry. Your heart clenches in your chest. You hadn’t seen him like this before, and you already knew you never wanted to again.
Nat notices your tension. She rests a hand on your shoulder.
“Jamie can handle it,” she said softly, her thumb rubbing reassuringly. “He’s strong, just like his father.”
You frowned, turning your head slightly. “I don’t like this, Nat.”
Talia continues. “You’re acting like your father. You’re settling, staying stuck, letting life pass you by because it’s easy.”
She went on with a sharper tone. “You think being like him is enough? The man can barely hold a conversation without looking like he wants to crawl out of his skin. He buries himself in pointless labor and ignores what’s really best for you. That’s who you want to become?”
That was it.
Your chair scraped back and your body was moving before you even realized it. Your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, stomping across the grass towards the woman wearing the devil’s skin.
Nat reached her hand out, trying to stop you, but you were already gone.
“Oh, shit,” Wanda muttered under her breath.
Bucky’s eyes widen when he sees you stepping towards his ex. He calls out your name, but you were already halfway across the yard. It was too late. He should’ve said something. He should’ve stopped her.
But he didn’t.
And if no one else was going to protect Jamie, then it was going to be you.
Talia’s back was turned with her mouth still running, completely oblivious of what's to come. Jamie stood frozen in place, his eyes widening when he sees you standing behind her like a shadow.
“Excuse me!” you called out loudly to catch her attention.
Talia turned, startled. She blinked at you like she hadn’t expected to be interrupted, and definitely not by you.
“I think that’s enough,” you warned her, arms crossed tightly as your gaze pierced through her.
She raises her eyebrow, resting a hand on her hip. “I’m having a private conversation with my son—”
“Private?” you laughed bitterly. “You’re tearing him down in front of half the damn yard during his own birthday party. Nothing about that is private.”
Talia stands up straighter, offended. “I’m trying to help him. Someone needs to be honest with him and remind him about his future.”
“No,” you snapped, stepping forward until you were nearly nose to nose. “Someone needs to remind you that tearing him apart in front of his friends and family isn’t parenting—it’s humiliation. And while we’re at it, don’t talk about Bucky like he’s a deadbeat when he’s the one actually showing up for his kid.”
Talia’s face scrunched up in a sour expression. Jamie just stared at you—either in awe or pure shock. A few steps behind him, a couple of his friends were showing proud grins.
“You want to give advice on effort?” you continued, not backing down. “You can start by showing up more than once a year, and when you finally show up, how about you also try not making the day about you?”
Behind you, the party had gone quiet. The music still played faintly from the speakers, but no one was talking anymore. Everyone had their heads turned, staring at you and the scene unfolding.
Talia’s jaw was hung open, and for the first time since you’ve arrived, nothing came out of her mouth.
Her gaze bounced from Jamie, who looked stunned, to Bucky, as if expecting one of them to swoop in and defend her.
But none of them do.
She turned back to Jamie, her voice suddenly sharp and filled with betrayal. “So this is what I came all the way out here for? To get humiliated by some woman I don’t even know?”
Jamie doesn’t say a word.
Talia turns back to you and scoffs, shaking her head. She leans in, muttering to you. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Get the hell out of here, Talia,” you snap back, holding her gaze and standing your ground. “You’re not welcome here anymore.”
There was a brief pause and it seemed like she actually might try to push back, but she saw the faces around her—all watching and all judging. With an exaggerated scoff, she rolled her eyes and turned on her heel, storming across the grass towards her pristine rental electric car parked just off the drive.
Because of course she rents an electric vehicle in the fucking countryside.
“Careful not to step in any manure on the way out!” you called after her, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Jamie snorted, trying and failing to stifle it by turning his head. He clamped a hand over his mouth, but the grin broke through anyway. All of your friends and his friends snickered too.
Once her car finally disappeared down the road, you turned to Jamie. You gave him a soft, reassuring smile as you placed a gentle hand against his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly along his skin.
“You okay, kid?”
He leaned into your touch without hesitation, like he'd been waiting all day for even a scrap of motherly affection, something he had been so blatantly missing.
“I’m okay,” he sighs, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks.”
“Don’t keep your crew waiting,” you give his cheek a playful pinch, nodding your head towards his friends. “Go hang out with them, birthday boy.”
Jamie turned and saw his friends waving him over. Camila gave him an encouraging smile, gesturing with both hands to come back.
“Yeah,” he nodded, a little more confident now. “I will.” He flashed you one last grateful smile before jogging toward them. Peter immediately pulled him into a side hug, ruffling his hair, while the others welcomed him back like nothing had happened.
Your chest eased a little seeing him slide right back into the party, watching the tension slowly drain from his shoulders.
But as you turned to head back toward your group, you paused. All eyes were already on you. Nat, Wanda, Vision, Steve, Sam—all of them staring at you like they had just watched a live soap opera.
But it was Bucky that made your stomach flip.
He was walking toward you now with an unreadable expression on his face. The adrenaline from earlier had completely drained out of you, replaced by a cold, creeping doubt.
Your hands were clammy, and you suddenly felt like you had done something you weren’t supposed to. You had just overstepped in a problem that wasn’t yours to begin with, and now you were going to hear an earful from Bucky.
Before he reached you, your feet moved on instinct. You turned and bolted towards the house. Bucky called your name, but you just waved a dismissive hand in the air.
“Bathroom!” you shouted over your shoulder, not turning back.
You actually did use the bathroom briefly. But afterward, you found yourself pacing circles in the living room, heart racing, biting your thumb as a flood of emotions churned inside you.
Guilt started to twist in your gut. You knew you’d crossed a line that wasn’t yours to cross. Everyone had warned you not to get involved. And still, you did, standing there in front of everyone, telling Jamie’s mother she wasn’t welcome.
God. What the hell were you thinking? What gives you the right to tell someone’s mother they weren’t welcomed here when you’ve only just returned back to town a few weeks ago?
Your eyes landed on a picture frame that you saw before—the one of Talia applauding baby Jamie taking his first steps, and your blood starts to boil again.
How could someone who looked so proud in that moment speak to her own son the way she just had? And not just him—she came after the flower shop, took a swing at you, and worst of all, made that heartless comment about Bucky.
You didn’t know why, but out of all the things, something in you just snapped when she started talking about Bucky. But what got you so badly, was the fact that Bucky just stood there and did nothing.
That thought had your jaw clenching all over again.
Why didn’t he step in?
How far would she have gone before he finally acted? Would he have said anything at all?
The longer you stood there in their living room, the more your guilt curdled into frustration.
The front door creaked open and you froze in place. “I’ll be right out—” you called instinctively, expecting Nat or Wanda to poke their head in.
But it wasn’t either of them. Instead, it was Bucky.
His eyes locked onto yours as he stepped inside, quietly shutting the door behind him. You heard the sound of the lock turning.
“Why are you still in here?” he asked in a rough voice as he started taking steps towards you.
You crossed your arms, ignoring the question entirely and getting straight to the point. “Why didn’t you say anything to her? Why didn’t you stand up for Jamie?”
Bucky sighs, getting closer. “Because he hates it when I do. He thinks I make things worse when I jump in.”
“So you just let her walk all over him, and let her walk all over you, too? How could you just let that happen?” you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. “If I hadn’t stepped in, she would’ve continued raking you two through the mud—in front of everyone.”
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I know,” he muttered. “I heard you. And… thank you. For standing up for us.”
But you weren’t ready to let it go. Your jaw tightened, still upset. “I just—God, I can’t believe you actually dated someone like her,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “Do you have a thing for women who walk all over you?”
Bucky recoils. “Excuse me?”
You bit your bottom lip anxiously. That comment was petty, and the words flew out before you could even think about it. But you were just so upset. How the hell did a man like Bucky—strong, capable, handsome, and a caring father—get stuck with an awful city woman like Talia? At least her appearances check out.
“You heard what I said.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched, like he was trying to hold something back. He looked away for a second, then back at you. “It’s not that simple.”
“That I can clearly see,” another petty comment out of you.
He ran a hand over his face, exhaling heavily. “She still has partial ownership of the farm.”
Your brow furrowed, your arms relaxing over your chest slightly. “What?”
“When we split, before I really knew what kind of person she was, I let her buy in. She wanted to be ‘part of the future,’ and I was too tired to argue. She’s got a stake in it, and now she’s using it against me.”
He looks defeated, agitated, tired, and pissed off all at once.
“She makes more money than I do,” he continued with some bite in his tone, like he hated every word coming out of his mouth. “She’s got lawyers and all kinds of connections. She’s threatening to sell her share if I don’t agree to let Jamie go back to the city for college. She says that she can ‘give him a real life.’”
Your stomach flips.
“And she would do it, too,” Bucky added bitterly. “She’d gut the entire place just to prove a damn point. And I can’t afford to buy her out—not without losing everything.”
Your arms dropped to your sides. So this was why he didn’t say anything—this is why all your friends told you not to get involved. And now, the guilty feeling was hitting you all at once all over again.
By standing up for him and Jamie, you may have just handed Talia another weapon to use against them, fueling her vendetta, leverage to get back at Bucky. She could use her share of the farm to tear down everything Bucky had worked for, and you might’ve only made it easier.
You dragged a shaky hand over your face, guilt and shame pressing hard against your chest.
“Bucky… I’m… I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t,” he interrupts you, stepping closer. His fingers wrapped gently around your wrist, pulling your hand away from your face. “Don’t say that. None of this is on you. She had no right to talk like that, not to Jamie, and not about me.”
“She’s horrible,” you grit through clenched teeth, looking down at your sandals, avoiding looking at him. “I hate the way she talks to him… to you. It makes me sick. Everything that you have built is special. The farm, Jamie, the life you’ve made. Fuck, it’s all so sweet and beautiful. It makes me want it, too.”
Bucky’s hands move to cup your cheeks reassuringly, feeling a swell of pride over your words.
“Tell me again,” he tilts your head up so that you’re looking him in the eyes. “Tell me which part you want.” He mutters quietly.
And as you stared into those familiar blue eyes, the ones that had slowly pulled you in since the day you came back home, your guard crumbled away.
“I want all of it,” you whisper. “I want to be a part of Jamie’s life, I want Jamie with me at the flower shop, I want the oversalted burgers, I want that rust bucket of a truck, I want the farm…” you look deeper into his eyes, voice getting even lower and raspy. “And I want the daddy that owns it.”
His jaw clenches for a moment, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip slowly. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Say that again.”
“Which part?” you teased, leaning in closer. “The rust bucket of a truck?”
Bucky let out a low breath, like he’s holding something back. His hand lowered from your face to your waist, squeezing it slightly and possessively. He was walking you backwards, slow and steady until the back of your knees hit the couch.
“You know which part,” he says, eyes piercing through yours.
Your breath hitched. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the living room changed, and the air was filled with heavy tension and heat.
You try to deflect, teasing. “The oversalted burger part?”
But Bucky doesn’t bite.You let out a soft gasp as his hands tightened around your waist, grabbing you and spinning you around so that your back was faced to him. The action threw you off guard, causing you to brace your hands against the top cushions of the couch. His hand glides down your spine, stopping just above the curve of your hips.
His voice comes in deep and raspy, close to your ear. “Don’t play smart with me, girl.”
He continues. “You come charging across the yard with that mouth blazing, telling off the mother of my kid like she’s your damn problem to solve…” you can feel the stubble of his chin tickling your earlobe. “You look me in the eye and tell me you want it all—yet you can’t even give me what I want?”
He leans closer, his breath warm against your skin, and your whole body responds to him, a shiver running down your back.
“Well,” your voice was shaky as you slightly turned your head to look him in the eye. “What do you want, then?”
Instead of answering right away, he raises his hand and delivers a smack against your ass that’s covered by the summer dress. “You know what I want.”
You let out a yelp, squirming under his hold. Your face warms with heat. You know what he wants, but you don’t say anything—purposefully defying and testing him.
When you don’t answer, Bucky flips the hem of your dress up, delivering another smack to your ass as punishment. He leans over you again, rubbing the cheek smoothly—as if prepping you for another round.
“I’ll give you everything. The farm, the burgers, the truck, the kids,” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of your temple. “All you have to do is call me Daddy.”
“Fuck,” you groaned, your fingers digging into the couch. “Bucky—“
Another smack, and you whimper as you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.
He rubs your ass soothingly again. “Wrong name, babydoll.” He leans in again, spanking you one more time for good measure. “Come on, baby. Give me what I want.”
A soft moan escapes your lips as the same strong, calloused hands you once couldn't stop eyefucking—back when he was fixing your house—now glide over the curve of your ass.
“Daddy…” you whimpered softly, jutting your butt out to rub against his hips.
As you press against him, you immediately feel the hardness of him. Bucky lets out a groan at the friction, tossing his head back before delivering another spank to your red bottom.
“Again, baby,” he breathed, rubbing you in approval. “Say it again.”
“Daddy,” you moaned, arching your back into his touch. “I want it, I want it so bad.”
Another spank. His body completely hovers over yours, grinding his hips against your panty covered bottom. You feel the insistent and hard ridge of him through his own jeans, and you want nothing more than to see him finally free himself from these confines.
“Louder,” he groans, his other hand sliding up beneath you to gently knead your breasts through your dress, the strap falling from his movement. “Tell Daddy what you want.”
“Daddy!” you gasped as you felt his rough fingers rub against your hardened nipple through your dress. “I want everything. I want you. Please, Daddy.”
“You want Daddy to take care of you?”
“God, yes.”
“Fuck, baby.”
You hear the sounds of Bucky’s belt unbuckling and his jeans being pushed down. You want to turn around and look, but you’re frozen in place. The anticipation of waiting for it turns you on more than it should—
Before you could even finish your thought, Bucky’s rough finger pushes your panties to the side, baring your glistening pussy to him. You hiss as he rubs his leaking tip against your wet slit.
“Shit, baby,” he groans, pushing his tip more insistently against your entrance. “You’re so wet. Bet it’ll glide in so easily, just like this…”
Bucky starts to push past your entrance slowly, the crown of his cock disappearing inside you with ease as he enters in one slow and deliberate thrust.
“Ah!” you gasped, arching your back, trying to accommodate his size. “Bucky—”
Smack!
Another spank to your ass that causes you to jump slightly, causing Bucky to moan at the sudden friction while he’s deep inside you.
“Bad girl” he warns you, giving you another warning spank. Your ass is red and sore, yet the sting of it feels so good, especially being under Bucky’s mercy.
“Tell Daddy what you want, baby. Come on, be a good girl for me.”
You finally look over your shoulder, your hands still braced against the top of the couch. You flutter your eyelashes at him, breathing heavy at the fullness of Bucky’s cock buried deep inside you.
“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you beg. “Fuck me really good.”
Bucky groans at the sight and sound of you. He grabs your hips, your dress bunched up around your waist as he starts fucking you against him.
You gasp, moan, and writhe underneath him as he fucks you so good, the couch creaking at the force of his thrusts. The sound of skin against skin slapping fills the air, along with the rhythmic squelching of your pussy taking him in.
It’s almost embarrassing how responsive your body is to him.
“Fuck,” Bucky moans. “You’re mine, baby. All mine. You belong to Daddy.”
“Yes,” you hiss, throwing your head back as Bucky fucks you deep and fast, making your head dizzy and your body warm and fuzzy. “Oh, God. Don’t stop, Daddy, please.”
“Never,” Bucky mutters, his hands on your hips tightening as he watches your soft flesh bounce against him. “Can’t stop.”
He watches his cock disappear and reappear in and out of you. The sound of your wetness, the way you call him ‘daddy’ so sweetly, the way you’re arching your back so that his leaking tip can hit that delicious sweet spot of yours…
It’s too much for him to handle, embarrassingly so.
It’s been a while since he’s had sex with a woman, and since the day you arrived back in town, that same day he rear ended you, you were the only woman that’s been occupying his mind.
He’s never felt such a need before. It’s desperate, lustful yet loving, and all consuming.
“Fuck, baby,” Bucky moans, his hands, his thrusts, everything moving with more desperation. “Daddy’s close… gonna cum soon.”
Your moaning only gets louder as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge with him. “Me too, Daddy,” you breathe out.
You feel Bucky’s cock twitch inside you after being called ‘daddy’ again. His breathing is heavy and labored as he fucks into you, helping the chase of both yours and his release.
He leans over you, pushing a sweaty strand of hair out of your face so he can get a good look at you.
“Will you be a good girl and take all of Daddy’s cum?”
“Yess,” you nod frantically, your eyes glazing at him with lust and love. “I’ll be so good. Please, let me show you how good I can be for Daddy.”
Shit. Who knew that the once smart-mouthed woman who made it her life’s mission to get on his nerves could beg so sweetly and dirty like this?
“Fuck, such a pretty slut,” Bucky grits through clenched teeth, your words alone sending him over the edge. “I’m cumming, baby.”
You whimper as you feel yourself come undone, pressing your face against the couch cushions as Bucky thrusts one, two, three more times deep into you before filling you up completely with his warm seed.
Bucky stands behind you, his hold on your hips possessive and steady. He catches his breath for a moment, and when he finally does, he lets out a hiss as he pulls out slowly.
You let out a needy whine at the sudden loss of him and he chuckles deeply. He cleans you up gently before setting your panties back in place.
“That’s a good girl,” he mutters, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then to your lips.
“Such a good girl for Daddy. I’ll give you everything, baby. Just you wait.”
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