Summary: Joel's working on fixing something that you'll love but as soon as you come to see what it is he gets distracted...in the best way.
Author's Note: This is just 700 words of pure indulgence because these small moments are everything for me and if I had Joel I wouldn't want his hands anywhere but on me all the time and I love when two people just can't get enough of each other and just the smallest touch is everything. Anyway hehe thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰
Warnings: Soft and sweet fluffy fluff
Pedro Pascal Masterlist
“What are you working on?”
Joel’s head whips up at the sound of your voice and he blinks, clearly pulled from concentration.
“What’s that darlin’?” he asks, his attention now completely focused on you.
His gaze wanders slowly down your body and he leans back in the chair, smoothing his large hands over his spread thighs.
With a gentle smile you walk to the table and lean your hip against the edge.
“I was wondering what you were up to.”
“Oh,” he says with a lopsided smile. “I found this old record player and I was going to try to get it to work again but it’s a mess.”
Your face brightens at the thought of hearing music.
“I know,” he says with understanding. “I’ll do my best.”
You lean in and kiss his scruffy cheek and with your lips still pressed to his skin he turns his head and finds your mouth, whispering softly, “wanna help?”
“Me?” you ask as you pull away slightly. “Are you sure? I have no idea how to use tools or anything.”
Laugh lines appear around his eyes and then he pats his big, thick thigh.
“Get over here.”
You drag your teeth over your bottom lip and move around him to climb onto his thigh. You can feel the rough material of his jeans on your skin and every flex of his muscle.
With a shaky inhale you scoot back and get comfortable.
He wraps his left arm around your waist and secures you against his chest.
“Ok hold this,” he instructs before pointing to the needle on the record player.
He then grabs the screw driver and begins unscrewing something with his right hand. When it pops off he sets it down and studies the machine.
“Hmm…” he muses. “We might need parts…good thing I have this old thing.”
He leans forward to grab the old radio on the table. The warmth and weight of his body is so welcoming that you let out a contented sigh and snuggle closer.
“Where did you get that?” you ask, turning your head to find him only a breath away, his dark brown eyes trained on your mouth.
The arm wrapped around your belly flexes and his large hand splays along your skin.
“Don’t you dare look at me like that,” you murmur. “I want this thing fixed.”
“Thought that’s what we were doin’ angel,” he smirks.
“If you keep this up it’ll never get fixed.”
“Keep what up?” he asks with feigned innocence even as his hand slowly slides along the curve of your body.
You melt against him as warmth spreads across your skin.
“Joel,” you breathe out.
“It’ll get fixed darlin’…but it’s hard to concentrate now.”
“Well that’s your fault,” you whisper. “You asked for help.”
His calloused fingertips ghost over your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then find your neck, trailing along the delicate skin until he’s pressing them under your chin and tilting your face closer.
“Joel,” you hum with one last weak attempted warning as your eyelids flutter closed.
“Hm?” he grunts as he brushes his lips to yours.
“Thought you wanted help.”
He pulls back and traces his thumb over your lips.
“This is helping.”
His hand slides to the back of your neck and wraps around it before he tugs you down to his mouth.
Your own hand smooths up and over his chest and your fingers curl into his hair, giving it a sharp tug.
“Angel,” he growls.
He stands in one swift motion and takes you with him, gently letting you slide down his body until your feet hit the ground, his mouth still on yours.
With sure steps he walks you backward toward the wall and pins you there with his large frame.
You let out a moan of his name and reach your fingers under his shirt to feel his skin.
He rests his hands on either side of your face, sweeping his thumbs softly over your closed eyes.
“I promise,” he starts on a murmur before kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’ll get it fixed.”
His lips are just a breath away, his nose lightly brushing yours…” just need you first darlin.’ Please.”
Has Bucky ever came home to find Frankie just sitting in his home? Bee’s probably with Malyshka somewhere else in the house, and Bucky is annoyed to see this child
Mafia!Bucky can't catch a break 🤣
Bucky's home is his sanctuary. His respite from his business, from the Bratva. From everything. Within these walls, he's not the pakhan or CEO. He's simply your man and her Papa.
He loves coming home to his family. All his stress seems to melt away the second he steps into the foyer and he's greeted by the people he loves.
Which is why he's disconcerted. And a little upset with you. Because he should be wrapping his arms around you, cupping your face so he can steal a much needed kiss before hugging Bumblebee and listening to her as she tells him about her newest 'ventures.
Instead, he's staring down at a shifty little bastard wearing a Bluey t-shirt.
"Hi Mr. Bucky," Frankie says, jumping off the couch and skipping towards the mobster.
Bucky raises a brow. "Frankie."
Oblivious to the stoic expression on his face, Frankie stops in front him and smiles up at Bucky. "You wanna play with me?"
Bucky glances around the first floor searching for you. Bee. Anyone.
"I like your dattos. I gonna get a billion dattos when I grow up." Frankie rambles on, reaching up to touch the tattoo on the back of Bucky's hand. "Dis is my favorite."
"That's nice. Malyshka?" Bucky calls out, his eyes flitting between the interloper and the kitchen. He swears he heard a faint giggle coming from there. He lets out a sigh when Frankie holds his hand. Raising his voice slightly, he tries again. "Bumblebee?"
Silence.
Or it would be if not for the fact that Frankie is trailing after him.
"When I grows up, can I work with you? I can count really high and I know all my—"
Bucky makes his way into the kitchen, finding you and Bee putting snacks onto a bright pink tray, his gaze hones in on you, catching the flicker of guilty amusement in your eyes. Bee wiggles off the chair and runs to him. His lips instinctively pull into a grin at the sight of her happy face.
"Papa! You see my boyfrien's here." Bucky fights a shudder, keeping his smile in place as Bee continues. "He's gonna play with us all day Papa. You 'cited? Mommy said you was gonna be real 'prised to find Frankie." Her voice rises as she bounces on her heels.
He watches that tiny sliver of amusement bloom and spread across your face. You casually lift a shoulder at his stare as you saunter past him, placing a kiss on his bearded cheek on your way out. "Have fun."
Bucky grabs your waist, his lips descending to your ear. "I will. Tonight. When you're making this up to me," his deep whisper, tinged with heady promises, rolls over your skin, sending an icy shiver down your spine.
Just as quickly he releases you with a pat on your ass and turns to the toddlers. "What are we doing first?"
"We gotta the dragons before they gets mommy."
"And dattos."
"Oh, I needs some new ones."
"Fight the dragons. Then I'll give you both new tattoos. Got it." His gaze warms at the sound of their cheers and he lets them pull out of the kitchen and down to the library where the dragons like to hide.
Bucky will never admit it but he did have fun. Doesn't mean you're off the hook though. He's a man of his word after all.
Warnings: heavy size kink, flirty reader, plus-sized reader, objectification of Reacher, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, sexual tension, smut, injuries, friendship
A/N: I don't write for enough fandoms so...bear with me...
Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.
Chapter Summary: Walter lets you in on his past, and you meet a friend.
Warnings: making out, slight heavy petting, hot werewolves
A/N: This chapter gave me so much grief! A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this.
Dividers by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
“I’m on my way over, alright? Just breathe for me. I’m gonna make a phone call and I will be over to your place shortly, okay?” Walter speaks clearly as if he were trying to calm down a frightened puppy.
Well, he’s not that far off.
“Yeah ok. Breathe. That should be easy enough, right?” You proceed to take one shaky deep breath and you laugh when you gulp in too much air and have a small coughing fit.
“Pup, you’re killing me. Gimme twenty minutes. Drink some water. I’ll see you soon, okay?” You hear the way he tries to cover up his worry with a short laugh.
“See you soon, Wolfie.”
You hang up and undress, throw your clothes in the hamper, and head to the bathroom to take a shower. Your body moved of its own accord, your brain leaving the equation early on to think hypotheticals. Only when you register that the water has gone cold do you turn the knobs and exit the tub. You are just toweling off when you hear the doorbell.
You tighten your towel around yourself and peek out the bathroom window down onto your driveway. You can see the edge of the black F-150 in the driveway and you heave a sigh of relief. You skip down the steps and walk across the living room to the front door. Opening it, you go to speak but hush and step aside as Walter walks in still talking on the phone with someone.
He mouths, I’m sorry, before going back to the phone call. “Yeah, alright. Thanks, brother. See you soon,” he ends the call and focuses his attention on you, smiling as you watch him take in your attire or lack thereof.
“So, who was that?” you ask, knocking Walter out of his daydreaming.
“Right, uh. That was Jace. He’s coming down to help us with our little problem. Well, it may not even be a problem. Who knows? Sy might be fine, we haven’t even seen his bite yet.” Walter scratches his beard and shrugs.
Crap.
“Actually, I’ve seen it. He sent me a pic of the bite after we were on the phone on my way home from work,” you reply, wishing you could melt into the floorboards.
Walter tilts his head and squints at you. “He sent you a pic of the bite after you were on the phone on your way home from work? That seems...friendly.” You watch as he bites the inside of his cheek, no doubt leaving something unsaid.
“Yeah, he left me a voicemail the night you both were hurt. But I didn’t listen to it until today. I had to call him to make sure he was okay before I bothered you with possibly a false alarm. I’m sorry I didn’t call you first.” you explain, grabbing his big paw and looking into his eyes.
He can’t help but melt for you, but he tries to keep it out of his expression. He fails, rolling his eyes and smiling. “First things first, pack a bag for a night or two at the cabin. Just for my own worry. So I know you’re safe.” He laces his fingers with yours and pulls you to him, “Oh, and I should probably look at that photo too.”
You pull him with you upstairs and grab your phone off of the charger. Scrolling to the texts, you find Sy’s chat and open it. You turn to look at Walter and speak, “I did not ask him to send a thirst trap. Just want that to be stated clearly.”
You hand him your phone and he rolls his eyes, using his thumb and index finger to zoom in on the bite. He studies the image for a bit before giving you back the device, sniffing and putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“Well?” you press.
“Kinda hard to look at it honestly. Never thought I’d see your ex’s happy trail. So, there’s that variable thrown in there for good measure,” he offers, pursing his lips and shaking his head. “It just seems like he is quite comfortable sending you these.”
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, you have to tell him. “Look, that day you dropped me at my car, Sy was here. Olivia called him because she didn’t know what else to do. He pointed out the hickey you left on my neck. He’s obviously jealous and he wanted to throw his hat in the ring. That’s all.”
“Well, we’ll just have to make sure he knows who hangs his hat here.” Walter pulls you to him, his large hand going to your throat as your lips connect. He swallows your delicate moans, savoring them as his thumb rubs at your pulse point. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, and lets you catch your breath.
You look up into his eyes and can’t stop the dopey smile that forms on your face. You shake your head and say, “Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend? ‘Cause, if so? Fuck yeah is my answer.”
“Now, don’t let me stop you from packing. I’ll just sit here quietly.” He sits on your bed and gestures for you to get ready to go to his house.
Pulling a small suitcase from the closet, you gather your toiletries first, zipping their case closed as you walk back into the bedroom. It’s not long before you are in Walter’s truck and starting the trip to the cabin. You yawn for most of the ride, your body finally still and feeling like you could fall over at any second.
You arrive and put your things upstairs. Checking your watch, you realize it’s after 1 in the morning and you suddenly aren’t tired anymore. You didn’t have the chance to wind down after work, now that you think about it. You just stayed stimulated, in one way or another, off and on.
You decide to go back downstairs and see what Walter is doing. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you see him emerge from the kitchen holding an apple between his teeth as he pushes up the sleeves of his sweater.
After a healthy bite, he takes the fruit out of his mouth and walks over to you. “Lemme guess, can’t sleep?” You shake your head and he nods. “Wanna wait up for Jace with me? We can talk while we wait.”
You nod and he takes your hand, leading you to the living room.
“So how long have you known Jace?” you inquire, settling back into the couch’s plush cushions.
“Oh, far too long. I met him when I was turned.” Walter stops there and looks at you, seeing your look of excitement at hearing the story, “Look, it’s not that great of a story. But I’ll tell you if you wanna hear it.”
“If you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t have to. But just know, it’s been on my mind since the moment I found out what you are. Of course, I wanna know how it happened.” You put your hand on his and he turns it over to hold it.
“It was really stupid. I came here to the States for school and I played football and was in a frat house. I had the whole ‘college experience’, ya know? Um, one kid on the team was kind of a loner but we got along just fine. Melot and I were pretty different, but he needed a friend and I was broke and he paid for everything. One night, he invited me out to a party off-campus. Promises drinks and girls and whatever I wanted. Should have known that was too good to be true.
“Anyway, he drives us out into the woods where this bonfire is going on. And there are maybe ten people there that I can see as we walk up. As soon as we get up to the fire, this huge guy stands up and walks around the fire and greets us. Now, he looks like he eats children and I feel so small in front of him. But he just hands us a couple of beers and whistles over his shoulder. And two very cute girls come running over. All of a sudden, I’ve got a cold beer and a girl on my arm and I didn’t take a second to think maybe this was too good to be true.”
You snicker at him, and he continues.
“The rest of the night is going alright. Then I notice there is a fighting ring going on and I see that they are really going for it. It’s brutality at its finest. I walk up and then the fight stops and I see Melot get into the ring and people start pushing me in. I was drunk enough to agree to fight him, but not drunk enough to lose. I had him knocked out within minutes, or so I thought.
“I wobbled over to him and turned him over to check out the damage and he lunged at me. Before I could even understand what was happening, Melot was biting into my shoulder. The pain was unimaginable and I blacked out. I came to and was so lost. I woke up and the girl from the night before was holding a cloth to my forehead and she smiled down at me when I opened my eyes. I fell in love with Angie at that very moment. We were inseparable after that. At least for a while.”
You squeeze his hand, not knowing what to say, and he smiles at you before talking again.
“So, Melot is there when I wake up too. He tells me that he wanted to impress the Alpha with a new wolf for the pack. Apparently, Melot thought this would get him some kind of accolades. But, it only pissed off the Alpha for potentially exposing them to humans. Heard they tortured him pretty well after that. Serves him right.
“I just ended up going back to school after everything. Didn’t see Melot much after that, but I did go back to the pack when I started to feel like I was losing my mind. On the night of my first shift, I met Jace. A handful of them were at the place in the woods and said they expected me sooner. I was so sick, thought it was the flu. They took me in and helped me through that first painful transformation. When I was in wolf form for the first time, all I could do was run. I ran through those woods until Jace tackled me and talked me down. He became my brother that night. He took me under his wing and taught me everything he knew. Which is why I called him about our situation. If anyone can help, it’s him.”
“So, was Jace bitten too? Or...can you be born a werewolf?” you wonder aloud.
“I was bitten. Angie, Jace, and Faye were all born with the lycanthropy gene,” he answers, noting your furrowed brow, “The lycanthropy gene is passed down from werewolves to their offspring. Usually lays dormant until puberty. That’s one thing that Teen Wolf got right. The 80s one, not the MTV one.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised that my Wolfie has seen Teen Wolf, but it still makes me feel all tingly, knowing you’ve seen werewolf media. Oh my God, have you seen Twilight?!” you exclaim, suddenly hyper-aware that you’ve gone giddy.
Walter snorts and pulls you into straddle his lap, cupping your face in both of his hands. Pulling you close, he turns his head to whisper in your ear, “Team Jacob.”
You actually swoon, and your little whimpered moan escapes before you get the chance to permit it. Covering your mouth too late, you lean back at look at Walter’s smug face. You swat at his shoulder and the corner of his mouth turns up.
He has you pinned under him on the sofa so fast, you could hear the air whoosh by. He nuzzles his nose with yours, then moves to kiss from your lips to your neck. You turn your head to give him better access, letting your hand tangle in his hair.
He licks and nips at your soft flesh, sucking and biting his way to where your neck meets your shoulder. While his hips are pressing into you, his hand snakes under your shirt to tickle your skin. You chirp when you feel his teeth graze a particularly sensitive spot.
You freeze, you’ve never made that sound before.
Walter groans, he likes the sound you made if his hips grinding into you was anything to go by. He gives little kitten licks at the spot again and you melt under his touch.
“I can smell how much you need me, Pup,” he hums, sliding a hand to cup your clothed sex, “Fuck. I can feel the heat coming off of her–Shit,” He shakes his head, kissing your neck before sitting up and getting off the couch. “Looks like we have company.”
You lean up on your elbows, confused until you hear the monstrous rumble of a motorcycle engine getting closer. You watch as Walter opens the front door and disappears into the yard. Soon, you hear the symphony of howling and grunts. You get up from the couch and walk to the open door when you hear the growling get louder.
From the doorway, you see quite a display of masculinity. Two grown men wrestle in the grass like children, laughing and shouting at each other until they register your presence.
The taller of the two sniffs the air and turns toward you, climbing off of Walter. His piercing green eyes almost seem to glow. A wild mane of dark brown waves with bleached ends frames a masculine face, and a healthy beard outlines full lips. His caramel skin is littered with tattoos from the neck down, a slit in his left eyebrow.
A dark grey v-neck under a vest hugs his built chest, while thick thighs are encased in tight-fitting jeans. A pair of old boots cover his feet, the laces left untied. His long fingers are decorated with a handful of ornate rings and one wrist sports a leather braided bracelet with a wolf charm hanging from it.
His meaty arms cross over his chest and his face splits with a devilish grin, his body is almost bouncing with energy. “Who’s your new friend, Marshall?”
To be continued...
A/N: I really hoped you enjoyed this chapter. Next chapter is already outlined. And just needs to be written. I have a plan, y’all.
A/N 2: Bonus points if you can guess my face-claim for Jace.
Summary: It was an easy job. They had it planned well. They weren’t prepared for you.
Pairing: Criminal!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Criminal!Jake Jensen
Warnings: bitchy reader, arguments, banter, biting (not the sexy kind), violence against kidnappers, mistaken identity, fighting for dominance, dumbass kidnappers (kinda), grumpy Bucky, tension
A/N: Here's the dream pairing we have been waiting for...😂
Words: 2,7k
“Fuck, she’s heavier than she looks,” the guy carrying you inside the hideout pants. He complains loudly as you hang over his shoulder. “I thought she was a model or something.”
“Hey, asshat! Say that again and I’ll scratch your eyes out! Never call me heavy again!” You wiggle in his tight hold. “I will kill the both of you and rip your balls off if I see one hair of your dick!”
The other guy chuckles at your antics. “Yeah, never call her heavy again. That’s not nice. And I won’t show you my dick. I don’t get hard for bitchy bitches.”
“Who asked you?” You growl and blindly grasp for your second kidnapper. “How about brightening your horizon and learning some new words? Bitchy bitches my ass.”
“She has claws and teeth,” kidnapper number one drops you to the ground, making you cry out as you land hard on your ass.
“You fucker!” You jump up faster than the guy can blink. They believed you were a damsel in distress and didn’t restrain your ankles or wrists. Now they regret their lapsus because you jump at the guy dropping you to the floor. “I’ll kill you.”
“What the fuck!” The guy exclaims as you tackle him. He ends up on the ground, you on top of him. You dig your nails into his chest and twist his left nipple. “OUCH!” He squeaks ungracefully as you do it again.
The second guy snickers behind you, but you won’t have it. You get up and rip the blindfold off your eyes. “Bastard!” You kick the first guy’s balls before jumping at the second guy. “I’ll kill you!”
“Help me!” The second guy calls for help as you sink your teeth in his neck and repeatedly bite him like a feral dog. “She tries to rip my flesh out! BUCKY! HELP!”
“I’ll get my pound of flesh!”
“Whoa, is this how Miss America acts? I thought you all dream of world peace and American pie!” The first guy slowly gets back up. He limps toward you to drag you off the second guy. “Let him go, you crazy bitch!”
“Eat shit, loser!” You snarl and twirl around to punch the first guy’s nose. “I’m not some girl you can just kidnap! Who do you think you are?”
“What the fuck, Jensen!” The first guy cups his aching crotch. “I wanted to make fast cash, not get my balls rearranged.”
You snicker as the first guy pleadingly looks at you. He’s much taller than you and strong. It shouldn’t be too hard for him to take you down. But he seems to be afraid to get close to you now.
“He said this is an easy job to make fast cash! All we had to do was grab Miss America and make sure she couldn’t win this contest,” the second guy, Jensen, grunts. “That’s not my fucking fault, Bucky!”
“Of course, it is your fucking fault! You listened to that dumbass,” Bucky bites back. His balls are bruised, and he won’t take this lightly. “I can’t believe I listened to you! I could’ve made more with poker tonight. Instead, I got my balls bruised.”
“More like your ego, wannabe kidnapper,” you chuckle darkly. Bucky’s eyes darken and he takes one step toward you.
You grit your teeth and ball your hands into fists, preparing for a fight.
“What are you? A ninja or shit?” Jensen panics as you look like you know what you are doing. “I think she wants to use karate or something.”
“It’s called Krav Maga, dumbass,” you snap at Jensen and get ready for his attack. “Come and get some.” You prepare for a fight with both men. Two tall guys against you, a fair fight. Your trainer didn’t call you firecracker for nothing.
“I think she’s crazy,” Bucky looks at his accomplice. “Jensen, this was a stupid idea. Miss America is a crazy bitch.”
“Dude, I’m not a miss nor Miss America,” you grit your teeth at Bucky. “You are the crazy one here if you think I’ll just roll over and let you pervs touch me!”
“Wait!” Jensen raises his hands in surrender. “You are not Miss America?” He cocks his head to look you up and down. “Hmm…yeah. I guess those girls don’t have a nice ass like you do.”
“Did you just call my perfect bottom fat?” You narrow your eyes. “Say that again if you want to lose a testicle. I dare you four-eyes!”
Jensen looks offended and pouts. He sniffs and turns away for a moment while his partner in crime tries to charm his way out of this situation.
“It’s a perfect peach,” Bucky shamelessly stares at your ass. He hums and cups his crotch again. “If I didn’t risk another kick to my crotch I’d offer you to take care of your peach.” He grins like he made you the nicest compliment.
“Calling my ass peach won’t get you out of trouble! You kidnapped me, the bookkeeper of the year, and I missed the prize-giving because of you. They wanted to give me a golden pencil and a coupon.”
“Bookkeeper of the year?” Bucky groans. “Jensen don’t tell me we were at the wrong place. Again…”
“How shall I know?” Jensen shrugs. “Dude said she’ll be in the room and wait for us to grab her! It’s not my fault he gave us the wrong information.”
“Seriously? You wanted to kidnap Miss America?” You snort. “Dude, they protect her better than the president. Did you honestly believe Miss America is sleeping at a sleazy motel? She sleeps at the four seasons!”
“Great. We grabbed the wrong girl then,” Bucky sighs and runs one hand down his face. “We fucked up big time.” He pouts and stares daggers into his partner’s skull. “You fucked this up, Jensen!”
“He gave us the wrong information! That’s not my fault.” Jensen sniffs. “Why do you always blame me? I’m only the tech nerd to you. You do not respect me at all.”
“Aw, are you having relationship trouble? Do you want me to wait outside so you can make up?” You tease.
Jensen drops his gaze and sighs deeply. He shrugs and mumbles an apology under his breath.
Somehow, you pity these two. They don’t seem to be the smartest criminals and you can’t help but feel sorry for them.
Bucky slowly sits down on the worn-out couch. He switches the TV on, to distract himself from thinking about the money they lost tonight. Bucky switches through the channels, making comments about the shows. “Boring…nonsense…wait..”
“What is it?” Jensen gapes at the TV. “Pump up the volume. I want to hear this.”
You look at the TV, listening to what the reporter has to say. According to them someone tried to kidnap Miss America and got shot. They didn’t make it out alive.
“Whoa, this could’ve been us.” Bucky huffs. “Take that, Walker. I knew it was a stupid idea to work with that fucker! He gave us the wrong address to get all the money!”
“You only work with idiots, huh?” You sit next to Bucky. “So, tell me, how much money do you make with crimes.”
“Not much lately. We used to make a lot of cash, but our concurrent fucked us over,” Bucky grumbles. “We need fast cash to keep our business running and stop Rumlow from taking over our club.”
“How do you usually make cash if you don’t kidnap women?” You grin darkly as Bucky’s frown deepens. “Come on, we are kidnapping buddies now. You can trust me.”
“You kicked my balls, lady!” Bucky snaps at you. “I don’t trust you at all. My balls don’t trust you. And my gut instinct doesn’t trust you.”
You snort. “Fine, I’ll go home, grab my prize on the way, and tell Rumlow greetings from you two losers…”
Jensen stares at you with wide fearful eyes as you make your way toward the door.
“Rumlow?” He hiccups. “You know Rumlow?”
“He prefers when I call him Brock and rub his shoulders after a long day,” you look over your shoulder to flash Bucky, who suddenly stands behind you, a smirk. “Did I forget to mention that I’m his bookkeeper?”
Jensen makes an odd noise. He wrings his hands and tries to not show he’s scared to hell and back at the mention of Brock Rumlow.
“What? Not so cocky any longer?” You turn on your heels to jab two fingers into Bucky’s chest. “Miss America my ass. I’m worth more than that bony bitch!”
Bucky looks you up and down. He hums and immediately pounces on you. “You’re right,” you squeak when he throws you over his shoulder again. “Rumlow will pay us a fucking lot of money to get you back.”
“Uh-Bucky,” Jensen watches his partner restrain you to the heater. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to treat her this way. Rumlow will kill us,”
“Aw, your little partner is scared,” you snicker. “How about you two play by my rules from now on, and I help you get more money than you could ever spend?”
Bucky crosses his arms over his chest. He sniffs and turns to leave the room. “I don’t trust you.”
“Wait, maybe she can help us,” Jensen doesn’t want to end up dead because they kidnapped you. If you are willing to help them, he’ll do anything to get in your good graces.
Bucky sneers as his partner looks at you like a lost puppy. “Get out of the fucking room, Jensen. We don’t negotiate with girls kicking a man’s balls.”
“It’s called massage,” you giggle and snort as Bucky turns around to glare at you. “Don’t tell me you never got kicked in the balls before. You scream awful first date.”
“Watch your tongue!” Bucky points his index finger at you. “I’m an awesome first date. The ladies never complained.”
“Yeah, because you bored them to death.” The look he gives you makes you giggle again. “You’re not used to a woman talking back, huh?”
“What you said about the money,” Jensen clears his throat to get your attention, “is it true? Can you help us?”
“Well,” you look at the handcuffs around your wrist. “I will talk if your partner takes these off again. If not, you will regret putting your hands on me.”
“How do you want to help us? Talk,” Bucky barks while his partner expectantly looks at you. “I don’t have all night.”
“I got more than enough time,” you stretch your body and yawn. “How about you get some food and beer first? I’ll talk after I eat. You fucked my day up.”
“Uh-I don’t have much money with me,” Jensen looks inside his wallet, sighing deeply. “I got ten bucks. What do you have, Bucky?”
“Guys,” you sigh and shake your head. “How did you survive for so long without my help?” You get up from the couch and grab your bag. “Christ, you should have at least one hundred bucks with you. You never know if you need to run.”
“What?” Bucky furrows his brows. “What do you mean you must run away?”
“I’m working for a dangerous criminal who likes to kill people if they look at him for too long. I have a plan, always.”
“Making plans is my job,” Jensen grins proudly. “Not this one, of course. Walker made the plan this time.”
“Hmm…” you open your wallet and hand Bucky fifty bucks. “Here, get us some food and beer. I think you know where my car is. Get it here, and don’t get caught. I trust you that you don’t run off and leave me alone with your partner.”
“I’m not your servant,” Bucky grunts and snatches the money out of your hands. “Why do you need your car?”
“I’ll tell you if you come back with food and beer…”
“Here,” Bucky slams the beer on the table. He drops three paper bags filled with takeout next to the beer, huffing as you are busy playing the blind man’s bluff card game with Jensen. “What are you doing? She’s still our hostage.”
“Jakie and I discussed the most important things,” you coo, and grab one of the bags. “I hope you brought some dessert too. This is going to be a long night.”
“Yeah? How about you answer my questions first,” Bucky grunts and slams his fist onto the table. “Why are there three suitcases and shit in your trunk?”
“Uh-“Batting your eyelashes you try to not give away too much. “That’s none of your business. I was about to go on vacation.”
“Vacation for how long?” Bucky steps closer and snatches the card from your forehead. He crumples the card up and flings it across the room. “I’m done playing games. Talk.”
“Stop barking at me like a feral dog,” you snap at Bucky. "Jake and I had a great time without your grumpy ass around."
“Stop messing with me,” the brunette pants heavily. “We’ve got no time for this shit.”
“Fine. I kinda stole the access data for Rumlow’s offshore bank accounts and his black book. I know where he’s hiding every single buck.”
Bucky licks his lips while his partner in crime nervously shifts in his seat. “He’s going to kill all of us, Buck. We need to get out of town!”
“Relax, Jakie!” You wave his concern off. “Rumlow is busy with another poker game. He’s out of town for a week. More than enough time to get out of town and transfer all of his money to my bank account in the Bahamas.”
“Bahamas? You think he won’t find you there?” Bucky huffs. “You’re stupider than I thought if you believe for one second you can rob Brock Rumlow and get away with it.”
“Aw, sweet cheeks,” you pat Bucky’s cheek. “I already robbed every single buck. I only need to get out of town, and this country.”
“She robbed all of his money,” Jensen hiccups. “What if he believes we had something to do with all of this?”
“You know,” sizing Jensen up you smirk, “I could need help hiding the money. You’re smart and reliable. If you are willing to follow me, we can be Gods.”
“Do you listen to yourself sometimes?” Bucky huffs. “Rumlow will flay Jensen and you alive. You have no survival instinct at all.”
“I got survival instinct,” you bump your chest into Bucky’s trying to intimidate him. “I kicked your balls, remember? I could have easily broken your neck too.”
“I’d like to see you try.” He dares to grin. “I doubt you’ll be able to wrap your hands around my neck. Little peach.”
“Well, if you are the survival expert you should join me and Jakie,” you challenge. “Your business is dead. So, I heard.”
“We could buy an island!” Jensen dreamily sighs. “Cocktails on the beach. The sun kissing my skin.”
“You’ll get sunburn,” Bucky grunts. He crosses his arms over his chest while eying you warily. He cocks a brow when you open a beer and take a large swig.
“I’ll pay you,” you run your fingertips over his bicep. “What’s your price? How much does your service cost me?”
Jensen watches you sip on the beer. He hums and imagines helping you for free to touch your peach. “I’ll do it for free!”
“Jensen!” Bucky mutters.
“Aw, he only wants to be a good boy for me, right?” You turn on your heels to pat Jensen’s cheek. He smiles widely. “I got more money than you could ever dream of. I only need someone to help me hide it and a bodyguard.”
“Bucky,” Jensen pleads.
“Fine,” the brunette throws his hands up. “If we die, I’ll blame you, Jensen.”
On your way out of town, you relax in the passenger seat staring at your bank account. Fifty million dollars should be enough to start a new life.
While Jensen takes a nap in the back seat, Bucky is driving the car you rented using a fake identity. He’s still a grumpy ass but you know, he’ll do anything to protect you. If only for the money you promised them.
Soon you will leave this country and your old life. Rumlow will regret firing you. He will remember your name till the end of his life.
(Okay, whinny werewolves? Yes. Pussy-hungry orcs? Also yes.)
Plus size and thick thighed reader and her big, rotund orc boyfriend to match going down on each other for the first time and he begs her to ride his face, to feel his tusks scratch against her inner thighs.
He watches with horror as her eyes widen and even build up with tears at their edges.
She explains that it’s been a running joke with almost every one of her past partners to “sit on their face”, but it wasn’t a request: it was a way to poke fun at her for her weight, so nothing ever happened beyond that. She’ll meekly asks him not to make those kinds of jokes around her, convinced he was trying to make fun of her and wasn’t actually serious about riding his face. She’d probably be too heavy for him anyways, she admits with a frown. She wouldn’t want to crush his face…
He waves you away when you ask him to suck his cock, and he tells you there'll be time for that later, right now all you have to focus on is feeling good and cumming on his face.
He eats you like a man starved, sucks on your clit like it's his job, and makes out with our pussy like he loves it, which of course, he does. your legs are shaking in minutes, then he pulls back and pulls you up and over him.
"come on baby ride my face," your orc boyfriend growls, as he lays down on his back in bed. you freeze. Is he teasing you? Surely he has to be messing with you. Did you do something wrong? He notices you hesitate but seems to miss the reason behind your nervousness.
"Come on sweetheart give my mouth a workout," he purrs grabbing your plush thighs and giving your ass a playful smack.
"I- are you serious?" you ask nervously, your voice shaking.
"Baby of course I'm serious I want nothing more than for you to sit on my face," he says.
"But- I mean I'm so heavy what if I hurt you? when guys ask me to ride them they're joking, you can't really want me to crush you like that," you protest, he smiles and sits up, he hooks both arms under your thighs and lifts you almost effortlessly,
"human men are weak, pathetic cowards, let me show you how a real man treats his woman."
You feel a little shaky in the air but at least this means you won't suffocate him right? if he can so effortlessly manhandle you like this.
Hesitantly you hover above his face, keeping your weight off of him but keeping your pussy close enough for him to reach with his tongue.
"I've killed dragons with my bare hands you're not going to hurt me. I said sit so sit-" he growls before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down onto his mouth. And while he is strong enough to lift you at any time he's also strong enough to make sure you don't go anywhere when he's eating his favorite meal.
How would Bucky react if Bee came home one day and had a bouquet of flowers that one of the PTA dads gave her for Malyshka? 👀
Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader, daughter nicknamed Bumbleebee
Word Count: Drabble
A/N: Written on my phone, unbeta'd. Part of the bumblebee series.
Bucky carefully takes the flowers from Bumblebee's hands, his affable grin sliding off his face when he stands up, towering over you.
"Who gave you these?" His voice is deceptively calm, in stark dichotomy with the storm brewing in his keen blue eyes. His darkening gaze sends a shiver down your spine and it takes every ounce of your willpower to suppress your smile. This is probably not the best time to tease your mobster. Bucky knows the answer without even glancing at the card attached to the bouquet, he merely wants confirmation.
"Bucky," you stretch out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck, going on your tiptoes, you smooth the lines forming between his furrowed brows. "I barely remember the guy. Chris something I think. It's not important."
"I remembers Mommy. Mr. Cole gave 'em to you and remembers how he—" Bee states, squishing a stray lavender petal in her palm, blissfully unaware of what she started when she skipped in the house straight to Bucky to show him Cole's flowers."—he wanna touch your butts. You remembers?"
Don't laugh. Don't laugh.
"Thank you, Bumblebee." Bucky sees your lips twitch and a dark, menacing glint creeps over his bearded face. God, he's sexy when he gets like this. One day you'll figure out why that particular look makes your knees weak.
"You welcome, Papa," she sings out. Done with her part in this fiasco, she heads off to her playroom, leaving you alone with Bucky.
"Oh Cole. Right. That one. Yeah, they might be from him," you admit.
"Cole Turner. Farmer. Divorced father of two. Works upstate. Asthmatic." He knows all about the farmer ever since the man first flirted with you. Bucky's been biding his time, content to let you handle him.
Until now.
If the way he's crushing the stems in his large tattooed hand or the way his heady gaze pins you in place wasn't enough to reveal how your mobster feels about another man giving you flowers, his accent slipping out as he lists off what he knows, says more than his words ever could.
Oh, he's furious.
And jealous.
It's not a bad look on him. You glance down and see the veins along the back of his hand, your eyes trailing up to his thick bicep barely contained by his tailored suit, and over to his face just in time to catch his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. Not bad at all.
Still, you can't let him hurt the asthmatic farmer even if Cole can't take a hint.
"James, whatever you're thinking, the answer is no." You clutch the sides of his jaw, making him look down at you. "I don't care about the flowers. Or what's his name. I love you." His expression doesn't change but you see his eyes soften. Pulling him down, your lips brush over his ear as you whisper. "I only want you. No one else. And if you agree to leave him alone, I'll show you how much you mean to me."
He knows that and he trusts you. He's not concerned about that. Bucky believes you're fucking irresistible and he can't blame other men for wanting you as badly as he does. Actually, he can and he will. Bucky drops the flowers and takes your face in his hands, his warm palms brush over your cheeks as he tilts your head back. "I'm going to need a lot of convincing Malyshka. It's going to take all night."
"Promise you're not going to do anything to him."
"I won't hurt him," Bucky offers with a casual shrug.
"Bucky."
"That's the best I can do. And Malyshka, you should be focused on how you're going to handle all the things I'm about to do to you." A smirk pulls at his lips and his unrelenting gaze skates over you in one smooth pass. His voice deepens, the sound vibrating over your skin as his lips find the side of your throat. "Remember what happened the last time you promised to make me feel better?"
Oh.
"I--"
"Don't worry, I'm about to remind you."
The following Monday.
You're dropping Bee off when you overhear Keagan talking to another mother. "We're going to need someone to cover Cole's snacks for the rest of the year. I can't believe he up and left like that."
Your eyes widen as you subtly glance over your shoulder, listening carefully while taking Bee's little backpack off.
"What happened?"
Bucky what did you do? Without being too obvious, you take a step closer to the gossiping duo, their voices carrying over the sounds of the classroom.
"Apparently he just inherited a house in D.C. He told Kristen that it was left to him by some uncle but one of the conditions is he has to live there for ten years to keep it," "And get this, right after he finds out about the place, I'm talking two seconds after he hangs up with the lawyer, he gets an offer to take over some vendor that's a mile or two from his new place but they wanted him to start immediately. So he...." Her voice starts to fade as she strolls down the hallway.
No he didn't. Laughter spills out, you slap your hand over your mouth to conceal the sound and wave goodbye to Bee. You spend the entire walk back to the car teetering between amusement and astonishment.
Bucky's waiting for you, leaning against the side of the car. A gorgeous, colorful bouquet of flowers in his hand. But it's the smug grin on his face that has your attention. He doesn't have an ounce of shame in him and you both know he'll do it again.
Summary: Bucky rushes to your aid when he finds out you’re upset. He’s never seen you this distraught before.
Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader
Words: 600 (I don’t think I have ever written something this short before wth)
Warning: It’s kinda angst?? But mostly fluff.
A/N: Sorry I haven’t been on much lately, school is keeping me busy. I wrote this pretty quickly and it’s just a short little treat while I’m in the middle of writing a mini series. Idk when I’ll finish writing it, but it prob won’t be done this month. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Divider credit: @cafekitsune
“Bucky?” Sam asked.
“M’ busy.” Bucky mumbled, curling a barbell like it was a dumbbell.
“Someone just informed me they heard crying coming from your girl’s room.”
“What?” Bucky dropped the barbell on the ground with a loud thud.
“Move, out of the way!” Bucky yelled, nearly knocking Sam over as he started sprinting to the gym exit.
Bucky ran so fast that he was bumping into walls and hitting corners, trying to locate the nearest stairs.
He took the stairs by three, his heart hammering against his chest, his ears on high alert in case he could hear you calling for him.
Finally, he made it to your room, and swung the door open without a second thought, just needing to know if you were okay. Bucky’s wide eyes spotted you instantly, curled into yourself on the rug, tissues littering the floor, sobbing. He had never seen you so upset.
He wasted no time sliding onto his knees and to you.
“Doll? Doll, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?” He tried to lift your chin to see your beautiful face, but you barely acknowledged him, your puffy eyes cast down.
“My h-heart,” you choked, clutching your chest.
“Are you having a heart attack?” He couldn’t stop himself from sliding his hands all over you, checking for injuries.
“I feel– s-so sad,” was all you could make out between sobs.
“Baby, who hurt you?” He was panicking, he needed to know what happened, why you were so distraught so he could fix it.
“Stupid book!” You cried, and flung yourself at him, holding him close, and tucking your head into his chest. Bucky immediately reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, squeezing you tight, one hand brushing your hair.
That’s when he noticed the outline of a book under a couple tissues.
“It’s not fair,” you cried, body shaking with each breath.
“I know, I know,” he soothed. He, of course, did not know, but he was enormously relieved to see the perpetrator was only a book.
“They were supposed to end up together! They were p-p-per–” You squeezed him tighter, struggling to get the words out. “Perfect together! Why did the author ruin it? It’s not fair, it’s not fair, they deserve to be happy!”
“Shhh,” he whispered, starting to rock you back and forth.
“It’s not fair,” you whispered through another cry, and collapsed fully into him.
“It’s not,” Bucky echoed.
Eventually your cries quieted and slowed, and Bucky kissed your forehead and let go of you. You barely had time to question what he was doing when he picked up the book from behind you and started to pretend to punch it.
“Bad book,” he chastised, “you made my baby cry. Nobody makes my baby cry,”
You couldn’t help but giggle, and wipe the remaining tears from your eyes.
Bucky continued to scold it, and even positioned himself to body slam it.
“Bucky,” you full on laughed, “stop,”
“Not until it apologizes,” he grumbled, faking a chokehold on it. “Oh, shit–” Bucky rolled onto his back and held the book above him, acting out a struggle. “It’s got me baby, help!”
Giving in to his shenanigans, you leaned over and grabbed the book from his hands, and gave it your own weak punch.
“Fuck you, book,” You sniffed and laughed.
“It can’t hurt you anymore,” Bucky said, patting your back.
“Thank you, Bucky,”
“I’ve got you, doll.”
“Why are there dents in all the walls?” Tony’s raised voice could be heard all the way from the floor below.
You looked at Bucky.
“What?” He smiled cheekily. “You needed me.”
Thank you for reading!
My Masterlist if you'd like to check my other stuff out :)
Oh oh and this is inspired by my reaction to Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. I hate that book so much. I love that book so much.
A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I'm only capable of ficlets lately, but enjoy some Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics and Bucky edit by the amazing @nixakimbo .Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
“My poor, shivering Sugar. Don’t worry. I’ll warm you up in no time,” Bucky said as he curled a hand around your hip, feeling him smile when he brushed a kiss against your temple. “It’s a tough job, but I’ll do it.”
An icy breeze crept into your bones through your coat when you rushed over to the tattoo parlor minutes ago, earning a sympathetic gaze from Jake when you walked through the door. It was one of the coldest days you could remember and you couldn’t get rid of the chill until Bucky offered to cuddle with you on the couch in the break room. You weren’t about to turn down his generous offer.
Especially since the guys made the room bright and cozy for the holidays with twinkling lights.
“Yeah, I really had to twist your arm to snuggle with me,” you teased, your heart thudding as you tilted your head back and let his lips skim along the column of your neck. It was almost criminal how soft his kisses were. “And I have no doubt in your abilities, Hottie.”
The man was built like a furnace, his firm body seeping warmth into yours as he held you in his embrace. Heat continued to pulse through your veins as he chuckled low and deep. “If you ever doubt my abilities in anything, I won’t hesitate to tie you to my bed and prove you wrong,” he promised, his voice even lower as it slipped into something more intimate.
You shivered for an entirely different reason now, threading your fingers through his hair and gripping them before his mouth could reach your chest. It earned you a throaty groan in response, one that nearly had you crawling in his lap. Somehow you managed to stop yourself.
“We can’t get too carried away,” you said, as much as you wanted to. You had to get back to your shop and he had a client coming in for a touch-up shortly. “Don’t give me that look,” you half begged, trying to ignore how your insides clenched when he lifted his head and gave you a glimpse of his darkened eyes.
How could you ever feel cold under that heated stare?
“But I want some sugar, Sugar,” he purred, one hand coming up to gently grasp your chin. Warm breath ghosted across your lips as he leaned in. “Just a little taste.”
Oh, how I want him to properly taste me. Make me see stars. Make me cry his name.
It was almost chaste in the beginning, his lips gently brushing against yours before he pulled back and leaned back in. Your lips parted first, silently begging for him to deepen the kiss. He still had his hand on your chin as he took his time, as if he truly wanted to taste what your mouth had to offer.
“You’re so fucking sweet,” he murmured when he pulled back, his gaze dropping to your lips as you caught your breath. That look alone made your toes curl. “I should put mistletoe everywhere just to find more excuses to kiss you.”
“That would be a first for me,” you said before you could stop yourself.
“What would be a first?”
“Being kissed under mistletoe. I’ve never done that,” you admitted with heated cheeks though there was no need to feel embarrassed.
Bucky pulled back a bit further as his eyebrows shot up, taking some of the warmth with him. “No one has kissed you under mistletoe? How is that possible?”
“I guess I haven’t had the opportunity,” you answered carefully.
A lump formed in your throat when he continued to stare and you weren’t quite sure why. Maybe it was because he treated you as if the sun, moon, and stars hung in the sky because of you. Not everyone saw you as anything special the way he did.
No one ever loved or cared enough about you before to try.
He slowly shook his head as if he refused to believe you. “Well, I’m fixing that right now,” he said more to himself than you before he gently put his hands over your ears. “Jensen!”
You smiled at his muffled shout before he put his arms back around you. His voice carried when he wanted it to. “Yeah?” Jake yelled back before he rushed to the break room and stuck his head in through the doorway. “What’s up?”
“Do we have any mistletoe around here?” Bucky asked.
“Bucky, what are you doing?” You whispered.
“Finding mistletoe before you go back to the shop. And, no, I’m not letting you leave until we find some,” he whispered back, waiting for Jake to give him an answer.
“I don’t think we do. Steve mentioned buying some,” he said, fiddling with his glasses before his eyes widened. “Wait! I think Hal has something that should work.”
“Of fucking course, he does,” your boyfriend mumbled affectionately as Jake went to get him.
“You really don’t have to do anything, Bucky,” you told him, turning his face back toward you. It shouldn’t have surprised you that he wanted to. He was a romantic at heart and you secretly enjoyed that he wanted to find some. “I appreciate it, but we don’t need something hanging over our heads for us to kiss.”
“I know we don’t, but maybe I want to give you that opportunity to have that kind of kiss,” he said. Your mouth went dry at his heart stopping smile. “If you’ll indulge me.”
You felt the weight of his tender gaze as you smiled, your eyes burning slightly from unshed tears. Thinking back on dating jerks like Richard, you were thankful for the experience because it showed you how guys should treat you and that you wouldn’t settle for less than what you deserved. It began with loving yourself.
“There’s no one else I’d rather kiss,” you said, resting your hand on his chest before Hal strolled into the room.
“Well, well, well,” he smiled, bringing attention to his hair as he ran a hand through it. As if he didn't turn enough heads on a normal day, he decided to dye his hair red and half green for the holiday season. “I heard you were looking for some mistletoe.”
“Yeah, you have any?” Bucky asked impatiently.
Hal chuckled and lifted his shirt slightly, giving you both a quick flash of his abs. “As a matter of fact…”
“Oh, my god,” you giggled, covering your mouth as Hal gestured to his belt. The hand painted buckle had mistletoe painted on it with “KISS ME” written underneath. “That’s…”
You stole a glance at Bucky and you swore you saw his left eye twitch. He likely had a sweet plan in his mind and got this instead. “What the fuck is that?”
“It’s mistletoe. Just like you asked for. I mean, it’s a form of mistletoe. I have a date tonight with Angel,” Hal explained, pointing at it again. You wanted to wish him good luck with his date, but you couldn’t stop giggling. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get over here, get on your knees, and start kissing. Or should I go over there?”
There was no mistaking your boyfriend’s eye twitch this time as your laughter died down. “I’m not kissing my girlfriend by your crotch. I’d sooner choke you with that belt.”
Hal seemed to consider it before he quickly shook his head. “Nah. I tried the choking thing once. Not really for me,” he said, smirking mischievously as he looked between the two of you. “But if she’s into that-”
Well...
You grabbed Bucky’s arm before he could launch himself at his employee and friend, who held his hands up in surrender. “Here’s a thought. Why don’t you take the belt off and hold it over our heads,” You suggested, hoping to appease your boyfriend as Hal unbuckled his belt with a shrug and removed it from the loops. “It still counts.”
“Not exactly traditional,” Bucky muttered under his breath before you brushed a finger along his chiseled jaw.
“We’ll call this innovative,” you said with a sweet and sincere smile. One you knew he couldn't resist.
“Innovative, huh?” Bucky asked, pulling you close as Hal waltzed over with an amused smile and dangled the belt above your heads.
“Yes,” you smiled as he framed your face. “So kiss me, please.”
Bucky held your cheeks with such care that it sent your heart soaring. This kiss was softer than before, yet full of promise and hunger, deep and thorough. He stole the breath from your lungs until you were left dizzy and wanting more.
It was the kind of kiss that warmed you up all over, like a flame no one could ever put out.
He pulled away first, slowly, but he seemed just as affected as you felt since he let out a shuddering breath and didn't let you go. “Fuck,” he whispered, bringing a smile to your face.
You had to close your eyes again to center yourself, still smiling. “Yeah. Fuck,” you whispered back before Hal cleared his throat.
“I really do adore you two lovebirds,” he began, stepping back to put his belt back on as you opened your eyes. Bucky didn't bother to look his way, only gazing at you. “But before you round the next base, Andy’s still talking about replacing the couch from the last time.”
He'll change his tune if he ever fools around in here with Sunny.
“Thank you, Hal,” you said, bringing a hand to Bucky’s cheek before he could grumble. Your touch was enough to soften his demeanor. “And thank you for my mistletoe kiss. I'll never forget it.”
Just like your first date that didn't go as planned, it made it all the more special.
Bucky smiled before he helped you both get to your feet. You had to get back to work. “I'm glad you liked it, but I’m getting us some actual mistletoe later and putting it all over our apartments. Bedrooms included.”
“Is that innovative?”
“Yeah, it is,” he smiled, sneaking in one more tender kiss before you had to go.
As long as Bucky would be the one to kiss you, he could put up mistletoe wherever he wanted.
Summary: After a stressful week at work you send a booty call text to a guy you’ve met on Tinder, but it goes to the wrong person… and that person is your boss.
Here is my masterlist and AO3
Fandom: Henry Cavill
Pairing: Captain ‘Logan’ Syverson x Female reader (no race or size mentioned)
Wordcount: 3030
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Booty call, Dirty Talk, Oral sex (female receiving), unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Doggy Style, oral sex (male receiving), Pearl Necklace
I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).
Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.
Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.
Chapter Summary: The story of the creature in the woods is told to you by your grandfather. You pass it on later to the kids in your hospital ward as a funny story from your childhood. It seems all of this might not be just a story.
Warnings: mentions of mutilated animals, spoopy vibes
A/N: So, this is my contribution to Halloween/Kinktober. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I digress. This poll helped me decide who is my main character. Thank you to @viking-raider for challenging me. Thank you to @milknhonies for setting a fire under my butt. And a special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this.
Dividers by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
“Grandpa, I wanna hear the story again, please!” You bounded over to your grandfather, your pigtails flopped on your shoulders when you landed in his lap as he sat in his favorite armchair.
He smiled down at you and spoke, “And what story might that be, darling?”
“C’mon, Grandpa, you know what story. The one about the Claw Creek creature!!” You reminded him of your favorite tale, the legend of what happened right here in your town.
“Alright, alright,” He scratched at his gray beard and looked off into the distance, “So, way back when the town was first founded over two hundred years ago, there were only a few families that settled here. The first of which was a wealthy family from England. Then came a successful farming family from the South. And so on. Well, little did these settlers know that there was an evil lurking in the woods at the edge of town.”
You listened to the story, even though you knew it backward and forward. You just liked to hear how your grandfather could make it so fanciful every time you heard it.
“After a prosperous number of years, the townspeople started to notice livestock being mutilated overnight. One family would blame the other, of course. But no one was ever caught sneaking on the farms or taunting the animals. And sadly, it didn't end there.”
You couldn’t hide the smile on your face. This is the good part!
“Look at you getting all excited! I should have you tell this story.” He laughs and pats your head.
“No, Grandpa. You tell it so much better than me.” You adopted a pout and looked up at him through your lashes.
“Your mother used to use that same approach; she must have taught you well,” He rolls his eyes and smiles, continuing, “If losing cows and chickens wasn’t enough, the town suffered another tragedy. While playing a game of ‘Chicken’, a group of boys stood at the edge of the tree line with their backs to the forest in the dead of night. One by one, each boy would run away for fear that the noises coming from the trees were a signal that the creature was nearby. Until only one boy was left. When he saw his friends had all left him, he started to whoop and holler about his victory. And that was his last mistake, sadly—”
“Are you telling her that damn story again?” Your mother interrupted your grandfather, her father, “You aren’t the one that must reassure her in the dead of night that this story isn’t real, Dad.”
“Mommy, the story is real! And I promise I won’t get scared tonight. Please let Grandpa finish the story! Please please please please please—”
“Alright, fine! But remember you promised not to get scared tonight, young lady.” She kissed your forehead, patted her father’s shoulder, and shook her head before leaving you two to your story.
“Now, where was I?” Your grandfather starts, searching his memory for his place in the story, “Ah right, the last boy was making all kinds of racket over his victory. He started to walk toward where his friends were standing until something grabbed him from behind. All his friends could do was watch for one second, he was there, and the next second he was gone. His screams faded into the sounds of the forest. Those boys ran as fast as they could back to town to tell of what had happened.
“When some of the townsfolk went to search the forest, they weren’t very lucky. They scoured those woods in search of the boy. All they found was a cabin that was covered in vines, and it seemed to have been there for quite some time. But there was no sign of anyone having lived there. They searched and they searched but only found the boy’s jacket which was in shreds and covered in rust-colored fur. With no bears in the area, they assumed maybe it was a wolf or something. Which would have made sense with the missing livestock as well. It seemed that whatever took him must have eaten him whole because they never found anything else of his. No pants, no shoes. Gone, without a trace. And they searched for days, never finding him.
“After that tragedy, the elders discouraged everyone from going even near the woods. Unless it was daytime. If the sun was out, the forest was still a little scary but nothing like that night. Even now, with all the safety precautions we have, I wouldn’t go into that forest if you paid me a million dollars. Anyway, they ended up renaming the town Claw Creek in remembrance of what happened. Never found a wolf though. I guess after all these years, we can safely say whatever was there that night is long gone now. Occasionally though, the wind carries, and I could swear I could hear howling late at night. Whatever it is out there, I say we let him have the forest and we keep to the town. That goes for you too, darling. You stay out of those woods, okay?” He finished his story with a warning, and he’d never done that before.
“I’m not going in those woods. I am curious, though. How come I’ve never heard any howling? That would be so cool!” Your excitement about the story stopped you from thinking of the danger.
“Trust me, darling. You do not want to hear those howls. They are haunting. And I’m old, I’m barely afraid of anything. But that creature? I believe he’s still out there. That’s why I tell this story, even if your mother hates it. Listen a bit closer in the night, maybe you’ll hear the howls one day. But promise me that you won’t go in search of where they lead.” His serious face scared you a bit, he was usually so jovial.
“If I hear it, I won’t go toward it. I promise, Grandpa.” You reach out your pinky to him and he locks his pinky in yours to seal the promise.
“That’s my girl. Now, what do you say we go and see if there’s any milk and cookies we can get into?” With his warm smile back in place, you return it happily.
You hopped down from his lap and took his hand to pull him up off the armchair. Pulling him into the kitchen, you took a seat and watched as he poured the milk and took out some cookies from the cookie jar. You sat and talked with him about the creature and how you hoped you could hear the howl one day.
That night you stayed up extra late to wait for the sounds of the forest to float to your window. All you ended up hearing was the sounds of owls and crickets chirping. No howl that night and no howl any night after that.
That is, until about twenty years later...
It was just a bit past midnight and you had just finished your shift as a nurse in the children’s ward of the hospital. You were dog-tired but you loved your job. You made it a tradition to pass on the story that your grandfather told you about the town. Telling all the little kids scary stories had only one consequence. They wouldn’t want anything else before bed but your story. And you loved it. Of course, you gave them the same warning as your grandfather did, to never go in search of the ‘big bad wolf’.
You made it home and had a quick dinner and shower before you poured yourself into bed. Your open windows allowed the night breeze to come and wash over you. It also allowed you some white noise to fall asleep to.
And that’s when you heard it.
Ahh-wooooooo...
You shot up in bed, thinking you were hearing things. You went to your bedroom window and you peered out into the night. You could see the tree line from where your house stood and you listened again for the howl. There seemed to be only silence and you were about to give up when you heard it again.
Ahh-wooooooo...
Your eyes were glued to the trees as the sound traveled to your ears. You blame it on your lack of sleep that you saw yellow glowing eyes watching you before disappearing back into the dark of the forest.
But your tiredness wouldn’t explain the sound. The howl was there. You heard it twice. You can’t mistakenly hear something twice. Can you?
You wait at your window for a couple minutes and there are no more sounds and no movement from the trees. You close your window and lay back in bed. You toss and turn most of the night, thinking of that pained howl all night long. You even dreamt of those eyes that you thought you saw.
You didn’t know it yet, but that was not the last time you would hear that howl or see those eyes.
The next morning, you go out to your local coffee shop to fuel up. You notice there seems to be a commotion as some folks are gathering outside near the town square. With coffee in hand, you make your way over and spot your best friend.
“Olivia, what is all this about? Why is everyone out here?” You ask, gesturing toward the crowd of people near the fountain.
“Girl, you didn’t hear those howls last night?” Her panic-stricken face tells you everything you need to know.
Those howls were real. And everyone heard them.
“But...it’s just like a wolf or something? We’re outlined by a forest. That’s gotta be normal. Right?” You’re not sure whether you are trying to calm her down, or yourself.
“Well, yeah. But that doesn’t explain what happened on a few of the farms. Actually, the Elliot and the Sullivan farms got it the worst. They say some of their cattle and chickens got mutilated. But the doors to the enclosures to where the animals were kept? They weren’t broken in, they were just opened. Like something opened the door and walked in, ate their fill of beef and poultry, and then just walked right back out. How could that even happen?” She shakes her head and wraps her arms around herself to try and keep warm in the brisk autumn morning air.
You were fine with thinking you had gone crazy and heard howls and saw glowing eyes. In fact, you would rather have continued to think you were nuts. But this ain’t no dream. Other people heard the howls last night. And now there were animal mutilations. All like in your grandfather’s story.
I bet he would have gotten a sick little thrill out of all this happening. But you’re suddenly glad that he wasn’t around to see all this nonsense.
“Liv, I’m gonna go back home. If anything else comes up, call me ok? Just be careful out here, girl.” You give her a quick hug and make your way back to your house after she promises to check in with you later.
Sitting at your kitchen table, your coffee gone cold, you stared off into space. Was this all really happening? Was the creature real? Had it seen you that night? You pour your coffee into a mug and place it in the microwave. While you wait for it to be done, you check your phone and see Liv sent you a text.
‘Hey girl, so they’re actually setting a curfew for tonight. Can you believe it? Everybody needs to be indoors by ten. Anyway, let’s get together for drinks tonight. Your place or mine or whatever. Don’t really wanna be alone tonight with all this mess.’
You send a quick text back agreeing to have her over for some wine and bad television, not wanting to be alone tonight either. Grabbing your coffee from the microwave, you settle down in the living room with your laptop. You begin to search the internet for any local wolf sightings, and to your horror, there hasn’t been a single one. Which, in your brain, can only mean one thing.
The creature your grandfather warned you about might not be just a piece of fiction.
To be continued...
A/N: I am really nervous about this story so any comments are welcome. I really wanted this to be a one-shot and I should have known better lol.
Run-through: You’re a powerful witch, famous and respected for your mastery of magic and ability to control the elements. Naturally, people always need you. Vikings, kings, and common men alike, be it to magically save dying crops, help them win battles, or to protect their people by manipulating the weather. One day, a certain blue-eyed Viking chief asks for your help. Bucky Barnes – one of the strongest, most feared of his kind, known for his ruthlessness and brutal nature. He offers your wandering self shelter and protection in return for your help in keeping his people and crops alive and well with the harsh winter approaching fast. And you can’t seem to refuse his offer…
By the time the Chief and his men made their way to your makeshift shack on the edge of the woods, you were already out waiting for them.
Hidden under your billowy cloak, with the hood hiding most of your face, you stood and faced the men with confidence. You couldn’t see them, given the hood, but you sensed the way the Chief got off of his horse, clutching his sword in hand as he took a step. Not in fear, no. But in that arrogant way you’d expect a Chief to move.
“Witch.” He greeted you. It was the only way he could greet you anyway, nobody knew your name.
You smirked. Finally peeling your hood off your head. You gave him a brief nod, “Chief.” You looked him right in those ocean blue eyes of his and judging by the look in them, you could tell he wasn’t used to people maintaining eye contact with him. He was an important man after all, and most people feared him.
But your magic had a way of reading people for you and… there was nothing to be afraid of. Not of him. He did look every bit of the fearsome viking he was known as though. Thick furs couldn’t hide the tall, muscular body. His shoulder length brown hair braided in some places. His handsome face was serious, like he rarely smiled. And all that ink all over his neck, and arm – just one arm because the other one was made of pure metal.
You had heard stories of how he’d lost his arm in battle, and how a great, benevolent king – also a close friend of his – had the metal arm constructed for him.
But above all else, the Chief was devastatingly handsome. You’d known, courted, and befriended quite some men. Hunters. Lords. Warlocks. Princes. Kings. Yet none were quite as devastatingly handsome as the Chief.
You quickly looked behind him and saw two men standing taller and prouder than the rest of the warriors. The wind whispered their names to you. Sam. Steve. Both were just as handsome as their Chief, however there was something about the male standing in front of you with a sword in hand. Thick white fur wrapped around his shoulders. Clear, icy blue eyes. Pink mouth. The cold made his cheeks and nose red.
“We heard rumours that you were close to our village, and we’ve come to ask for your help.” The Chief said, gracefully, calmly.
You gave him a nod. “I know.” You said quietly. “The north wind brings news that this winter will be exceptionally harsh.”
Bucky gave you that look that most people gave you when they figured out that your magic was indeed real. He was just a little surprised, but composed himself. “We desperately need your help.” He spoke again.
You agreed to help of course. This was your purpose with the magic you had.
And since you had little to pack, you went with them immediately. They didn’t bring an extra horse so you rode with the handsome Chief back to his village where you would be spending the entirety of the coming winter.
You never asked for anything in exchange. Some witches did, most of them did not. Mainly because you never needed anything, you had magic and you could conjure anything you wanted out of nothing. But you liked having company of people. So you considered that payment.
And after spending months on your own, you were looking forward to meeting new people, helping them.
During the ride back to the village you’d be calling home for the coming months, you felt the Chief tense behind you. His muscular arms circled around you as he held the reins but he was respectful enough to keep a few inches between you and him. You could only assume how much stress he was putting on his back to keep him from slouching forward.
You hid your smile as you sensed that he was nervous. “You don’t have to be so tense.” You said, turning your head to the side a little. “Witches don’t bite.” You spoke quietly so that the men behind you wouldn’t hear.
“I don’t…” He let out a huff of warm air. “I don’t want to be disrespectful.”
You smirked, but he couldn’t see it. “I’m just saying, you could use the warmth.”
He didn’t know what you meant until he slowly inched closer, his chest pressing against your back. Even with the multiple layers separating the two of you, your body heat wrapped around him in a way that had him sighing in relief.
Without another word said, his metal arm wrapped around your middle as he pulled you against him even more. You smiled as he leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You’re very warm.” He sounded a little surprised. His deep, gravelly voice making you shiver despite the warmth.
“Magic, remember?”
He hummed in response, keeping his arm loosely around your waist as he took you to his village. The tension between you two felt electric.
—
The ride wasn’t too long, and soon you arrived at the village. It was larger than you had imagined. Busier, but tidier.
Once you got past the tall, wooden palisades you could see more of the daily activities. Hunters sharpening their weapons, warriors training, children running around. You spotted the vast crops, the rivers.
There was so much you couldn’t see, but the elements spoke to you. You knew there was a lake here somewhere. The Chief’s hall was beyond the wooden houses which were scattered all over. You knew there were people gathered somewhere near the beach, working on building a new boat. Multiple boats in fact.
“Welcome to my home.” The Chief whispered as he led you deeper into the village.
Judging by the relieved smiles on people’s faces as they spotted you, you knew they were aware that you were here to help them. You smiled back to as many as you could on your way to the main area, in the middle of the village.
The Chief helped you off the horse and when you thanked him he said, “You can call me Bucky. All my friends do.”
You gave me a smile, “Alright, Bucky.”
He nodded, then pointed at a wooden house, not far from his residence, and said, “I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”
One of the ladies was beside you immediately, saying she wanted to help you get settled in. So with one last glance at Bucky, you made your way to your new, temporary home.
–
The moment he walked into his home, sighing in relief at the feeling of warmth, his two best friends rushed in after him, grinning like they were up to no good. Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam and Steve as he poured wine into three cups.
“What?” He barked at them, handing them their cups before he sat on one of the few stairs that led to his seat. The one he sat on when he had to act as Chief. But when he was with his friends, he didn’t like sitting on it.
“Are we going to address the heated looks you and the witch have been sharing or are we going to pretend nothing’s happening here?” Sam teased, leaning against a nearby table.
Steve chuckled, sitting down near the fire in the middle of the room. “Yeah Chief, what’s going on?”
Bucky glared at them both. He loved them to death, would die and kill for them in a heartbeat. But gods, they could be so annoying. “Enough,” He grumbled as they both laughed shamelessly at him, “She’s our guest. Most of all, we need her to survive this winter. Be respectful.”
Sam smirked and said, “Is that what that was on the ride back? The two of you as close as lovers? Was that you being respectful?”
Steve’s laughter echoed around the hall. Bucky wanted to chuck his cup at both of them but he didn’t want to waste the wine so he just rolled his eyes again, “Get out both of you.”
“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve spoke up, “With her as your wife we would be unstoppable.”
Sam nodded, “Exactly.”
“Both of you, shut up.”
“I mean, she is beautiful. If you’re not interested, I might check out what else her magic can do when-,” Steve stopped talking the moment Bucky threw his cup at him, wine and all.
Sam choked on his drink and laughed even harder.
Shortly after, Bucky kicked both of them out of his home. He was surprised at how it suddenly got hard to breathe or think the moment Steve even jokingly hinted at getting intimate with you. Bucky felt so protective over you despite having met you just hours ago.
He just wished he could keep that under control for the coming months. You were his guest after all. He couldn’t be inappropriate.
—
He couldn’t sleep that night. The village was quiet, dark. The night was cold given winter was approaching really fast. The next day, he had plans to give you a tour of the village and thinking about spending hours with you was making him nervous. But in a good way. Gods, he was turning into a little boy with a crush. This was bad for his image.
He couldn’t sleep, so he figured a walk might tire him out. So he layered up in his favourite furs, grabbed a torch and stepped outside. It was dark, save for the moonlight. And also light coming from your temporary home.
Bucky was walking towards the wooden house before he even realised it. His hand was knocking against the door before he could talk himself out of it. He should let you rest. He should act like a grown up and walk away right now. Being Chief he should–
He stopped functioning the moment you opened the door and looked up at him. Dressed in a beige night dress, a woollen blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and the dimmed light of the torches made you look ethereal just standing there at the door.
You spoke first, “Bucky.” You didn’t sound surprised. You knew he was coming over the moment he stepped out of his home. “It’s rather late, is something wrong?” You couldn’t help but ask. You knew he was coming over, but you didn’t know why. Your magic, fortunately, didn’t allow you to read minds.
Bucky placed the torch on the sconce by the door and cleared his throat, standing proud and tall like one would expect him to. “I saw your lights were still on. I couldn’t help but worry so I… uh, came to check.” He paused, awkwardly. “Do you… are you comfortable? Do you need anything?”
You sensed his slight nervousness even without using your magic. You tilted your head to the side and smiled at him, “I’m very comfortable. Your people were kind enough to–” You stopped, noticing how foggy his breaths were, “Please come in,” You opened the door wider, “It’s cold out.”
Bucky accepted the invitation. As soon as he stepped in, you placed your hand on his chest. Bucky blinked and in the fraction of a second, he felt comfortably warm. He gave you a thankful smile.
You smirked playfully and whispered, “Magic.” Then you moved towards the makeshift kitchen, “Tea?”
Bucky grimaced and said, “I don’t like that bitter stuff.” He mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
You chuckled, “I bet you will like this one.” You went ahead and made him chamomile tea, with warm milk and a generous dollop of honey.
By the time you brought the mug to him, you found him bent over your little desk. He was looking down at the map you were currently making, your special black ink on special parchment paper.
Bucky whispered his thanks as he took the mug, then said, “You’re making a map of the village?” He sounded both amazed and confused. “No one has been able to make one this accurate. You haven’t even… “ He paused, “Of course,” He smirked, “Magic.”
You smiled. “Maps help me control my spells better. It’s enchanted parchment you see,” You pointed at the map, “I can even work from here with the help of the map.” You looked back up at him and saw the look of delight on his face as he took his first sip of the tea.
He raised an eyebrow at you, “You laced this with magic as well?”
You giggled, “No, just milk and honey.”
Bucky just stared at you with soft eyes. In the dim, golden lights his eyes twinkled like that of a wolf. You stared into them, neither of you spoke. Until he finally blinked, pointed at the map and said, “It must be incredible, being this talented.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle in a self-deprecating way. “Talent.” You repeated, looking down at the map. Then quietly said, “I was always taught and told that my magic was a great weapon. But thank you, I guess.”
Without another word said, Bucky placed his half empty mug down and grabbed both of your hands in his large, warm ones. He tugged you closer, gently. Just the slightest bit so he could have your undivided attention.
“You’re not a weapon. You won’t ever be one, not here.” He said, softly. Slowly. “You are our salvation.”
You had been repaid in many ways throughout your life. Chests filled with gold. Jewels. Feasts and balls thrown in your name. Even a few marriage proposals from influential families. But no one had ever told you that you were their salvation. Something about Bucky saying it, even before you got him and his people through the winter, made you tear up just a little.
His face softened as he wiped that tear away from your cheek with his slightly cold metal arm. “I mean it.” He whispered. Then he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, whispering, “You are so beautiful.” Then a little closer to your mouth. “So warm.” Then finally pressed his lips against yours as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer and pressing you against the soft furs he was wearing.
You couldn’t help but moan quietly into the kiss. That made him growl, made him deepen the kiss. His warm hand cradled your face as his metal arm wrapped around your waist. His lips were surprisingly soft, and his kiss was gentle. Sensual. Your hands wandered over his chest. You could feel his heart racing. You could feel him breathing deeper, but refusing to break the kiss.
You gasped in pleasure when his mouth left your lips briefly to kiss along your jaw, making your heart flutter in anticipation. But then, he stopped and pulled away. He was breathless, frowning, his lips wet and pink.
“I… I shouldn’t.” He licked his lips and you almost moaned again. “You’re…” He took a deep breath. “You’re my guest. And you only just got here.” He shook his head, as if disappointed in himself. “I shouldn’t have pounced on you like an animal like that.”
You fixed the blanket around your shoulders, giving him a playful, though disappointed, smile. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you, but no one even mentioned you were such a proper gentleman.”
Bucky cleared his throat, then gave you a heated look that screamed that if he didn’t get out of here right this instant he would surely be pouncing on you again. “I should go.” He mumbled. “Thank you for the tea.”
You nodded, “You’re very welcome. I will see you tomorrow, for the tour?”
He nodded. Then as he turned to leave, he paused. He turned back around and unwrapped the thick white fur from around his shoulders and placed it on your desk. The tunic he wore was loose around his neck so you could see the ink on his skin peaking through. “Keep this,” He said, “you might need it for tomorrow.”
You smirked, understanding what he was playing at. He knew you could keep yourself warm. But he just wanted you to wear something of his while he showed you around tomorrow. He wanted everyone to see you wearing something of his. You had heard of vikings being territorial, and truthfully, you didn’t mind this one bit.
You played along, pretending to be oblivious. “Won’t you be cold then?”
As he stepped out of the door, he turned to look at you. Smirked and said, “I think your magic will keep me warm enough.”
You chuckled as he shut the door behind him, took his torch and left. Who knew the Chief would be such a flirt?
—
Bucky had never been this excited to give someone a tour of his village. He was at your door the next morning, early and ready. He knew you already had a map, but he wanted you to see the place properly.
You caught the approval in his smile when he saw you wearing the fur he left you as you stepped out to join him. He was wearing black furs, and looked just as majestic.
“My people are delighted that you’re here to save us from the winter,” He said as the two of you began walking towards the centre of the village, the busiest part he told you. “So expect a lot of gifts along the way.”
You didn’t know what to expect. And even after politely refusing many, many tokens of thanks from his people, you already had baskets filled with cheese, berries, fresh bread and you were even done with the tour yet. Bucky, of course, carried the baskets for you.
He was in a good mood, you realised. He was showing off a little as he gave you the tour. Showing you all the new warehouses, the new boats that were being built near the beaches, the new houses being made as the number of people grew.
He showed you the hall where himself, Steve, and Sam often trained young kids. They taught them how to fight, to defend. They’re vikings, they need to be ready, he said, for anything and everything.
He had a glow on his face as he spoke about the kids, and you couldn’t help but ask, “How come you don’t have any?”
Bucky gave you a faint smile. Then said, “After my father died, I had to take care of everything around here. And I guess I never had time.” He paused, “I also never found the right person.”
You turned to look at him and he was looking the other way, surely hiding a smirk. You decided to drop the subject.
Bucky led you deeper into the village, near the lake. “It looks incredible in the summer, but–,” He stopped talking once the two of you heard male voices shouting. It sounded like it was coming from the lake.
You followed Bucky as he rushed to the lakeside and let out a groan. You chuckled once you saw what he was looking at. His two friends, Steve and Sam, arguing in the water about who pushed who first.
Bucky sighed and said, “I apologise, I wish these two would act like adults.” Then he yelled at them, “Hey! Stop trying to make me look bad. And get out of the water both of you, I can’t have you both freeze to death!”
You watched how the two of them swam towards the shore and eventually got out, trembling.
“Gods, I hate you.” Sam said, shivering.
“You pushed me!” Steve argued, shoving Sam.
Sam shoved him back, “You pushed me!”
“Enough!” Bucky turned to you and said, “My useless friends,” He introduced, “I wish you would’ve met them in more normal circumstances.”
You laughed, then walked up to the two men. “Hello,” You said and placed your hands on each of their shoulders, your magic would keep them from shivering. And the moment you touched them, they both sighed in relief. “There, that should keep you warm until you get home.”
You couldn’t help but check them out. They were both muscular and fit, and the way the wet tunics clung to their bodies… their muscular torsos, and biceps bigger than–
Bucky cleared his throat and you quickly looked away. You were almost certain Sam and Steve were smirking as they mumbled their goodbyes and hurried home.
“We should get back.” Bucky said, his mood immediately turning sour.
When the two of you did head back, he walked you to your home, handed you your baskets full of food and gifts, whispered a brief goodbye and left. You had planned that you would ask him to join you for dinner, as a way of thanking him for the tour. But he was just so grumpy on the way back that you decided not to.
But then you were restless the whole evening. You made yourself a quick dinner and sat by the fire to read but something didn’t feel right.
As it got later, the village got more and more quiet. And dark. When the wolves began howling you knew it was very late, but as you looked through the window, you saw that the lights inside Bucky’s home were still lit.
He was awake.
You debated walking over to his place, but then decided not to. You had to get to work the next day and surely you’d get a chance to talk to him then.
—
You visited the crops first, drawing your runes in the dirt. That’s where you ran into Steve and Sam. They wished to introduce themselves properly, and the three of you began talking. They showed you around for a little while, making you laugh at their jokes and stories of their childhood.
They kept you company while you worked and at some point, you sensed that someone was watching you. You knew who it was before you even turned around.
There was Bucky standing, proud and tall, quite far from the crops. The same broody expression on his face as the day before.
You almost lifted your hand to wave at him but then he walked away.
“We better leave,” Steve said with a mischievous smile.
“I’m afraid if the Chief sees us around you again he might behead us in public.” Sam winked at you and then walked away.
So Bucky was jealous.
After you were done with the crops, as you made your way home in the afternoon, you ran in Bucky in the village centre. He was on his way home as well, you realised, so you walked a little faster until you caught up to him.
Once you were beside him, you said, “Hello, Bucky.”
“Hello.” He mumbled.
“I worked at the crops today, I drew my runes.” You told him.
“I know, I saw you earlier.” He said.
His voice held enough distaste that you couldn’t help but ask calmly, “Why are you angry at me?”
He threw you a look and mumbled grumpily, “I’m not angry. I’m very grateful that you’re here.”
"Then why won't you talk to me?" You asked. "You look like you're angry." You paused, then asked, "Is it because I was talking to your friends?"
He stopped walking immediately. Turned to face you and said, "What were the three of you talking about anyway?"
You had to hide a smirk as you answered, "Nothing in particular. They were just keeping me company." Seeing he still had that broody look on his face you asked, “Does that bother you?”
He scoffed. "No." He frowned. "Why would it? You're free to talk to whoever you want, you're our–"
You cut him off, "Guest, yes. I know." You smiled. "Well then, how would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"
Bucky's bright blue eyes stared at you, an unexplainable expression in them. "Another time." He said much to your surprise.
The rest of the walk back was filled with awkward silence.
That night, you were restless. After a quick dinner, you sat by the fire to read but you couldn’t quite get into it. Then you got up and looked through the window and saw that the lights in Bucky’s home were still on.
Again. He was awake. This time you didn’t think twice before putting your cloak on and walking to his front door. It was so quiet that you could hear the knocks echoing. Two knocks later, Bucky opened the door.
His braids were undone, yet he looked just as handsome. “It’s late.” He said.
“Also very cold, you should let me in.” You said.
Bucky opened the door wider, letting you in before shutting the door.
You walked into his home and took it all in. The place smelled like him, and a little smoky. Probably due to the fire that burned in the middle, keeping the place nice and warm. You saw his seat. His swords and weapons hung on the walls, along with artworks. Furs and rugs scattered on the floor, the place was cosy.
“Nice place.” You commented as you turned to face him. You found him leaning against a nearby wooden column, with a drink in hand.
He gave you a curious look. “Surely you didn’t walk all the way here to comment on my home.” He said. He looked good. The dim light from the torches made him look like a god. Long brown hair, pretty blue eyes. His tunic was loose now, showing a lot of the ink on his skin. His metal arm caught the light a few times, shining occasionally when he moved.
You felt your heartbeats echoing louder in your ears the more you looked at him. And then… then he had the audacity to slowly lick his lips.
That did it. You walked up to him, carefully took the cup from his hand and brought it to your lips. You held his stare the whole time. You took a careful sip because whatever it was, it was very strong. Then said, “No, no I didn’t.”
Bucky gave you a heated look. One that was familiar from the other night when he kissed you. “You know, it’s rude to snatch someone’s drink. Especially the Chief's.”
You smirked at him. “Do something about it then,” You added mischievously, “Chief.”
“Oh?” Bucky’s metal arm was around your waist in no time, pulling you into his warm, muscular chest. “Now you want my attention?” He taunted, his voice deep, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the smirk on your lips. “What about when you were shamelessly staring at other men right in front of me? Or what about earlier, when you were–”
You cut him off with a chuckle. “Just say you are jealous.” You took another sip from his drink. “And if this is how you treat your guests then I think I can imagine why everyone fears you.”
“I’m not jealous,” He mumbled, nuzzling your cheek. “I just don’t like seeing you with other men.”
You gasped, and almost dropped the cup in surprise as he kissed along your jaw softly, biting you playfully while he’s at it. “So possessive,” You whispered, “We only just met.” You teased.
His grip tightened around your waist before he pulled away to look at you. His blue eyes now dark with desire and longing. “Yet I haven’t been able to think about anything other than wanting to have you all to myself ever since I kissed you that night.” He said.
He looked down at your mouth as he spoke, and it only made your heart race faster. “Bucky…” You weren’t sure what you wanted to say to him, you just… wanted. “Please.” You found yourself whispering. Pleading, which you had never done before.
Bucky clenched his jaw and turned, pressing your back into the wooden column he was leaning against earlier. The cup fell to the floor, neither of you paying much attention to it. His metal hand cupped your face and he stared into your eyes as he spoke.
His voice was dangerously low as he spoke, “You must understand, if we do this there’s no going back.” He said, looking down at your parted lips. “If we do this, you’re mine.” He reiterated, “If we do this,” He leaned in to brush his soft lips carefully against yours, making you gasp and whimper, “You belong to me and only me. Are we clear?”
The rasp in his voice and the feral desire lacing his words already made your brain foggy. “Yes,” You whispered, placing the palms of your hands pressing against his warm chest and partially exposed skin.
He wasted no time in undoing your cloak and letting it fall to the floor and pool around your ankles. Bucky had a devilish smile on his face once he saw that you were wearing nothing beneath the cloak except for flimsy undergarments. Near transparent ones.
Bucky’s eager hand trailed up your body, gently, starting from your thigh all the way to your breasts. The warmth of his hand made you shiver in pleasure. “So this is why you were complaining about being cold?” He whispered in your ear while his hand ran up and down your sides. “I thought you could manipulate elements to keep yourself warm.” Your body felt like it was on fire under his touch.
“Well, I can manipulate the elements.” You said. Bucky pulled away to look into your eyes. “But there’s nothing quite like body heat.” He smirked at the sight of the look of mischief in your eyes.
Then he gently tugged on the delicate necklace around your neck, toying with the crystal pendant leisurely as if he had all the time in the world. As if he couldn’t see you squirming under his touch, wanting more.
“It’s…” He frowned at the crystal, now holding it between two metal fingers. “It’s moving.” He whispered, and sounded so genuinely confused that it made you smile. Who knew this tall, muscular, godlike man could be adorable?
You nodded, looking at the crystal. It was clear mostly, except for a greyish, dark, flowy mist moving around inside it. It looked like smoke trapped inside the crystal, but it was just energy. “I was given this by my family the day I left my home when I was a young girl. As a gift. For protection.” You explained.
You looked up to find him looking down at you with a heated, wild look in his eyes. “I’m here now,” He said. “I’ll protect you. Always.” He pulled you closer, pressing your barely clothed body against him.
You smiled, sliding your hands up until your fingers slid into his soft hair. The light from the burning torches began to dim, making the room slightly darker but still golden. The smirk on Bucky’s handsome face signalled that he knew you were messing with the torches.
“I want you,” You whispered, pressing your lips to his cheek. The slight stubble felt rough against your mouth. But it only made you wonder where else it would feel rough. And you couldn’t help the quiet moan that escaped your mouth.
As if he could read your mind, Bucky chuckled. He grabbed you by the neck, tightening his grip just a little, enough to make you feel warm all over. “I don’t think I could be gentle…” He whispered, his metal hand reaching for the fine dagger he kept on him at all times.
He carefully pressed the tip flat against your lower lip. Your heart began racing faster. Bucky slowly dragged the tip of the dagged down your chin, down the side of your neck, down in between your breasts before he cut the fabric, slicing it in two and letting that fall down to the floor as well. You hissed as the cold air hit your now exposed breasts. Bucky seemed pleased as he let go of your neck, his hand trailing down to fondle with your breast instead. You tipped your head back and moaned at his touch.
He kept the dagger pressed against your skin as he leaned in to kiss your exposed neck, “I don’t want to be gentle.” He said.
You let out a gasp as he slid the tip of the dagger sideways, circling your nipple with it deliberately slow. “Good,” You whispered, “I don’t want you to be gentle.”
Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you’re perfect.” He dragged the tip of the dagger down, sliding it slowly across your abdomen, right above the waistband of your undergarments. Over and over again until you were squirming, and gasping, and grinding on nothing.
“Please,” You said, looking at him with soft eyes.
Bucky held your stare as he slid the dagger under the fabric of your undergarment and sliced that off of you as well. Fuck that sound of fabric tearing off of your body did something to you.
“Please,” You begged again. You were unable to ignore the wetness in between your legs anymore. Neither could he.
Once there was not an inch of fabric shielding you from his hungry stare, Bucky threw the dagger onto the pile of your clothes and next thing you knew, you were being pushed down onto a nearby pile of soft furs.
He pinned you down by your throat, as he hovered above you, leaning over with his metal hand wrapped around your neck firmly while he stared down into your eyes. “You look so beautiful like this.”
You gave him a smirk and said, “It’s your turn. I want to see you.” You wanted to see the ink on his skin, trace it with your finger. You wanted to see him naked on these furs with you. You had never longed to touch someone like this before.
Bucky held your stare, arrogant grin on his face as he pulled away to take off his tunic and lower his pants.
You let your eyes feast on him. Ink covered more skin than you thought, but it suited him. He looked every bit the fierce Viking he was. You wanted to take your time and admire the artwork on his body but… later. Right now, you wanted him.
You grabbed him by the neck and pulled him closer, pressing your mouth to his and kissing him deeply. “I want you,” You whispered again.
“I know, sweetheart,” Bucky’s hand was back around your throat as he growled into the kiss, “I know.”
Guess he could take his time and caress every inch of you like he wanted to later, right now though, he needed to have you. He was hungry for it. So he pulled away from the kiss, parted your legs and slid a finger inside you, reassuring himself that you were ready for him.
Bucky groaned when he found that you were dripping for him. “All that for me?” He teased, settling in between your legs and pressing the tip of his cock against you. You gasped and whined as he slid the tip of it up and down your slit.
“Please,” You begged, whining. “Hurry up or I swear to gods I will make sure your house is always freezing throughout winter.”
Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “No need for all that, little witch.” He whispered as he pushed his cock into you, stretching you out in a way that made it hard for you to even think about anything else.
“Do I feel good inside you?” He questioned, teasing and knowing full well you weren’t in a headspace to answer him. His hand was around your throat and his cock buried so deep inside of you that he knew you couldn’t even think straight.
And fuck did he feel good snug inside you. You just whimpered in response, staring up into his pretty blue eyes. “More,” You whispered, “I want more.”
He smirked, digging his knees into the furs before he pulled out and pushed back into you. He set a hard and fast pace that made your head spin with pleasure. He was just as passionate as you expected him to be, his kisses were messy and his grip on your body was tight. He growled and moaned against your mouth as he sped up into you.
You were a moaning mess under him. Your legs locked around his waist as he pounded into you, “You feel so good,” He said, “Look at you, all wet and open for me.” He slowed down for just a moment, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust it. “Is this what you wanted? Hmm?” He asked, slow fucking you until you felt a tear escape your eye.
Fuck, he was keeping you right on that edge. It drove you mad.
“Tell me, sweetheart.” He kissed along your jaw, nibbling on your skin. “When you walked all the way here tonight, wearing basically nothing as you knocked on my door in the middle of the night,” He chuckled, “Is this what you wanted? To be full of my cock?”
You nodded, more tears falling down. It was so good, almost overwhelming. His words, his deep voice, the heated look in his eyes as he fucked you slowly, his weight on top of you, his warmth…
“Yes,” You whispered, “It’s all I wanted.”
Bucky sped up again, taking you by surprise and you couldn’t help the sinful moans that escaped your lips. He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen instead, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. “Well there you go,” He said, as if taunting you, “Here I am. Deep inside you.” He stared into your eyes while he sped up into you again. “Just how you wanted.”
You whimpered desperately as he fucked you deeper. You felt your walls clenching around him. You felt the familiar feeling, the pressure down there just waiting… waiting to explode. Your back arched off the furs as he brought you right to the edge again before slowing down. It was brutal.
You gasped in shock, and the now ruined orgasm. Bucky smirked. “That’s punishment,” He said, “For talking to other men right in front of me.”
You frowned, “You’re cruel.”
Bucky kissed you one more time before he flipped you around and pulled you onto your knees and pushed into you again from behind. You moaned out loud, not expecting that but welcoming the feeling of being full again.
You laid your cheek down on the furs, the softness of them a stark contrast to how rough Bucky was being, handling your body like you were just a toy. It made you smile in pure bliss as he gripped your hips and slammed in and out of you incessantly, sighing and groaning in the process.
More tears escaped your eyes as the pleasure became too much to handle. You felt the pressure at your core forming again as Bucky pounded into you mercilessly, fucking you like an animal. Bending and contorting your body however he liked. Pressing your head down as he sped up into you until you came, crying out loud and clenching around him so hard it took him everything not to finish inside you.
He quickly pulled out and came all over your lower back and thighs. He took a moment to admire all the marks he’d left on your skin before pulling you into his arms as he laid down beside you.
You placed your ear right above his heart, listening to it gradually calm down like yours did. Only then did you have enough energy to keep your eyes open and admire the ink on his skin. You traced the closest one with a finger.
“A dragon?” You asked.
Bucky chuckled softly. “I like to think they might have been real at some point.”
You pulled away, holding yourself up using your elbow. You looked down at Bucky and said, “Of course they were. They were magical beings, they got along well with witches and warlocks in fact.”
Bucky looked pleasantly surprised. “You are so full of secrets.” He said, lifting a finger up to your face and gently traced the shape of your mouth. “Tell me more,” He pulled you back into his arms, nuzzling your neck and making you laugh, “What happened to the dragons?”
—
Sleeping in each other’s beds became part of the routine.
Some nights he would come over after the village had gone dark and quiet. Other nights you’d go over to his place and stay till early morning.
Nobody knew about you and Bucky, except for Steve and Sam who couldn’t stop grinning like mischievous devils each time they ran into you.
Days passed this way. The weather got colder, and you kept the village in perfect shape. The rivers kept flowing even though they should be frozen. The lake as well. The crops stayed healthy. As did the cattle.
Your magic had created an invisible dome over the entirety of the village. A vast dome that only you could see.
The people were safe from the intense cold and they were warm, fed, and happy.
But doing all that always made you extremely tired. Usually you’d hide it well behind faint smiles and blame it on it being a long day. But even at night you had to use your magic to keep the dome intact. And although you did your best to hide it, sometimes your weariness would show.
Like the one time when Bucky caught you by the lakeside late at night.
You were sitting on the jetty, looking down at the dark water. The moonlight made the surface shine, and just beyond the lake, right where the dome ended, you could see the harsh winds of the blizzard that you were currently keeping away from Bucky’s people. But from within the dome, no one could even hear it.
And just when you thought of Bucky, you heard him walking on the jetty and on his way to you.
“I looked for you everywhere.” He said, sitting down next to you on the edge. “Are you alright? You never come here this late.” He sounded genuinely concerned.
You smiled at him, his pretty face glowing under the moonlight. Then you pointed at the blizzard, and Bucky swore under his breath when he saw what was happening beyond the dome, “I came to make sure everything was safe.” You said. “I had to draw some of the runes again.” Then you added, “Everything’s fine, don’t worry.”
Bucky loosened the furs around his shoulders and opened his arms for you to snuggle up to him.
You gave him a smirk as you slowly scooted closer to him, “I can keep myself warm, remember?”
“Yeah, but there’s nothing quite like body heat.” He teased, wrapping his arms and the furs around you, holding you close to him. He leaned down and kissed your cheek softly then said, “You seem tired. I didn’t realise magic would take such a toll on you.” He sounded a little embarrassed.
“Hey,” You placed a gentle hand on his rough cheek. “This is how it is. Magic has a cost, it feeds on my energy and that’s just how it works. I should be okay after a few hours of sleep.” You smiled up at him. “Can I ask about the arm?”
He smiled, tapped you on the nose with his metal finger and said, “Bravery has a cost, my lady.” You laughed, and he eventually told you the story. And by the time he was done, he noticed you were just about to fall asleep. “Hey, come on. Let’s go to bed.”
You let him help you stand up and said, “I’m tired tonight, maybe–,”
He cut you off. “That’s not what I meant.” He pulled you closer and kissed you gently, “I won’t do anything, I just want you in bed with me. You’re doing so much for us, let me take care of you and do what I can.” He added, pressing another kiss on your lips, “Please.”
You smiled and gave in.
And turns out, sleeping in his bed, in his arms was enough to recharge you.
—
One day, a messenger came with urgent news for Bucky.
A little far from this village was another one, and the news said that their Chief had died leaving behind no one to care for the people. Since Bucky was the closest, they were begging him to help them last this icy winter.
Bucky held a meeting with his inner circle – his friends, and now you as well. Everyone gathered near the fire in the middle of Bucky’s home. Outside, the weather was getting colder. Your magic kept everyone here comfortable but those people who had asked for help… they wouldn’t last long.
“We can’t help them.” Bucky said, surprising everyone in the room.
Tony, the one who created weapons for every warrior in the village and also part of Bucky’s inner circle, spoke up first, “What do you mean here, Chief? Those people will die.”
Steve nodded, agreeing, “There are children, cold and starving. We can’t leave them.”
“Think about it,” Sam said, “We could have more people in our army to fight for us, with us.”
Bucky stopped his slow pacing, then turned to all of you. “How are we going to care for these people? I mean, I guess we’ll have enough food for everyone but what about shelter?”
Peter, Tony’s apprentice, spoke up this time, “We have enough material to build houses. I mean, we could always pause on the boats for now and use those materials for houses. You’ll have to go bring the people over anyway, and by the time you’ll be back I suppose we could have houses ready by then.” He looked over to Tony for approval. The latter nodded in agreement.
“That will cost too much.” Bucky said. Then sighed. “I have to care for the people here.”
You spoke up this time, “I could help.” You said. “I have more gold than I could ever use. And I could help with the building, and–,”
Bucky cut you off gently, “No, I cannot ask you for all that. You’re already helping us, and this wasn’t part of our arrangement.” He paused for a moment, only the crackling logs filled the silence, “Besides, I’ve seen what using magic constantly does to you.”
You rolled your eyes, “That’s just how it works,” You repeated. “It’s like when you complain about being tired after a whole day of training. Doesn’t mean you won’t ever train again.” You reasoned. “And as for our arrangement, I agreed to help. So let me.”
Bucky sighed again, walking over to you as if the rest of the people in the room didn’t exist. Honestly, the moment you stared into his clear blue eyes, it didn’t matter who else was in the room.
“It’ll wear you out.” He said softly, almost in a whisper.
You gave him a faint smile, “Guess you’ll just have to take better care of me then.”
He was about to reach out and cup your face in his hands but then Steve, Sam, and Tony all cleared their throats to get your attention back on the current issue. You avoided all their eyes awkwardly while Bucky smirked shamelessly. Peter just seemed confused.
“Fine,” Bucky said. “We’ll bring the people. We’ll take the boats.” He announced. “We leave today itself.” Then he proceeded to assign the work of building additional houses over to Tony and Peter. Sam and Steve, along with other warriors, were going with Bucky.
Then the men left, Tony and Peter went to gather people to help them start building immediately and Sam and Steve went to get the other warriors to prepare for their journey. Once they were out of the house, Bucky pulled you close.
“That was generous of you.” He said, nuzzling your neck and kissing it. “I’ll be gone for two weeks at least, you know?” He said. “I’ll miss you.” His lips brushed along your neck, stopping at the corner of your mouth, “I’ll miss this.” His arms tightened around you, making you gasp.
“I’ll miss you too,” You said, pulling away to look at him. “The sea will be rough,” You said, “Take this.” You took the crystal necklace off of your neck and put it around his, hiding it under the layers he wore. “That should keep you safe.” Then you looked around and said, “You should start packing your things. My magic won’t work given the distance so you’ll need more furs to keep you warm.”
He looked at you with soft eyes. “Usually no one fusses over me like this.” He said, “I like it. I like it a lot.”
You smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “Now hurry up. Those people need you.”
“Hmm,” He leaned down for a kiss again. “If anyone touches you while I’m gone I will behead them.” He said, half-joking. “One more thing, I want you to stay here while I’m gone.” He said, referring to his house. “Sleep in my bed every night. Oh and think of me. Miss me. A lot.”
You laughed. “Understood, Chief.”
—
You went to see Bucky off when he left later that evening. He looked like a King and his armada, setting off for battle.
He was barely out of your sight and you missed him already. You whispered a prayer to the strong winter winds, telling them to keep him safe until he comes back.
—
For the entirety of the two weeks which followed, you worked harder than ever. The dome, the crops, the cattle, the rivers and lake, and now the construction. Your magic fortified the wood used for the new houses, all the gold you had accumulated over the years helped the village immensely.
The people were so grateful. And you did your best to keep their spirits up while their Chief was gone.
It made you feel all warm inside whenever people would gush about how incredible of a leader Bucky was. You wondered if he knew his people loved him so much. Then, almost always, quickly followed by that warm fuzzy feeling was intense worry.
You never had anyone to worry about this much. So this was new for you.
By the end of the second week, each morning you’d wake up and go by the beach to see if you could see the ships coming. They didn’t.
You slept in his bed like he wanted you to. And that just made things worse. Because now not only did you worry about him, but you missed him like a mad woman. His scent was all over the bed and the covers.
But then one morning, as you went to the beach to check, you saw them. The ships, tiny little dots near the horizon. They were coming back. He was coming back.
Great timing in fact because the houses were just done building as well. And the crops had just been harvested.
Some hours later, the ships docked. And the new people had arrived, with their entire lives packed into trunks. While everyone showed the new ones to their houses, you looked for Bucky. You couldn’t even hide the smile on your face as you spotted him, running to him.
Bucky smiled as you ran into his open arms, hugging him tightly. You didn’t see the approving smiles on the faces of people around you, all you cared about was that Bucky was here, safely.
“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” He whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’ve missed you.”
You pulled away to look up at him. “You’re back.” You whispered, delighted.
He cupped your face and leaned down to press his forehead against yours, sighing. “I wish I could take you to bed and show you how much I missed you, but…”
“Later,” You finished his sentence. “There’s a lot of work to be done right now.”
He nodded. Then you felt something moving near your ankles, getting tangled up in your flowy cloak. You looked down and saw a small ball of white fur. Bucky chuckled as you bent down to pick it up.
“The mother and the rest of the litter didn’t survive the cold,” He said, “But I found this little guy as we were evacuating the village. He was hiding under a pile of hay, all hungry and trembling. And I thought, who else would take better care of him than a certain generous witch I know?” He explained, a little flustered, ”So I brought him along. For you.”
You looked at the fluffy, white wolf pup in your hands. You already loved him with all your heart. Then you looked up at Bucky again, “Thank you. I love him.” You said, kissing him on the cheek, “And thank you for not leaving him behind.”
He smiled, “Oh well,” He looked around to see his people helping their new guests get off the boats, offering to carry their luggage for them. He looked beyond proud. “What’s one more addition to our village?” He shrugged, smiling at you.
–
It took some hours, but by nightfall everyone had a bed to sleep in and roof over their heads. Bucky was so pleased he insisted they celebrated this feat. Plus he wanted the new members to feel welcomed and comfortable so he held a feast.
Food and ale makes everyone feel at home, he said.
So the feast was held. The village centre quickly became a vibrant, bustling scene. And the music was the best part. You had travelled to so many places but you had never heard such rich music and singing.
As you walked around, enjoying the atmosphere, everyone thanked you for your help. Usually by this time well into winter, food was always scarce. But with you and your magic here, everyone was happy and their bellies were full.
You caught Bucky’s stare from across the crowds of people a lot of times. His heated stare that held promises which made your face feel all hot and made your body tingle. But he was busy catching up with his people right now, he made sure to speak with each and everyone of the new members of his village, he spoke with the kids and promised them that they would be restarting training soon. He even held some of the babies that had been born while he was away.
And you watched him with fondness. Watched how he smiled, watched how he let the kids mess with and admire his metal arm, watched how gentle and kind he could be, as well as how stern and assertive.
And then he caught you staring. He smirked at you while you pretended that your entire being didn’t come alive under his attention. You tried to hide the way you clenched your thighs together as he began walking over to you, finally.
The music rose to a crescendo as he made his way to you. Tall, strong, with a confident and slightly arrogant gait. He stopped when he was right in front of you, the lit torches made his skin look golden, and his eyes… oh his eyes.
His metal head reached out to touch your face, slowly caressing your warm cheek. “Did you get a chance to eat?” He asked.
You nodded, lost in his eyes. You didn’t even remember what you ate, if he asked you you wouldn’t know.
“Good. Then let’s go.” There was enough raw desire in his voice that it made you move immediately.
As you walked you asked, “Won’t they notice you’re gone?” You referred to the ongoing festivities.
Bucky smirked as he took your hand in his, the two of you making your way through the dark, to his place. “Judging by the way you threw yourself into my arms earlier, I think they expected us both to disappear at some point.”
After the short walk, you could still hear the music from the feast even after making your way into Bucky’s home. You could hear some vocalising, and it sounded… magical. Raw. Intense. Much like the look in Bucky’s eyes.
“I see you did sleep here.” He noted, appreciating that you did as he’d asked.
You took your cloak off near the fire and then followed Bucky into the sleeping area. “It was the closest I could get to you while you were gone.” You whispered, taking the layers of fur off of him. You carefully placed it down and began undoing his tunic. “Your bed smells like you.” You said, “Some nights I couldn’t sleep until I made myself come while pretending it was your hand touching me.”
A sound resembling a growl left his mouth as he grabbed both of your wrists in one hand, ceasing your movement. “Show me.” He said, low and deep, “Show me what I missed.”
A sly smirk formed on your lips, “Sure you don’t want to do it yourself?”
He shook his head. “I want to see.”
You turned and gave him your back, “Undress me then.” You expected him to undo the laces and buttons. But no. You felt something cold against the nape of your neck, and then the sound of fabric being ripped filled the room.
You gasped in pleasant surprise. He’d torn your dress off instead. With the dagger. You let the ruined dress fall to the ground and faced him again, naked because you hadn’t been wearing any undergarments, “That was one of my favourites.” You said, looking into his lust-drunk, hooded eyes.
“I don’t care.” He answered, truthfully. Stepping closer he raised the dagger up under your chin, pressing it gently against your skin. “If it were up to me, I’d keep you naked in this bed at all times.”
You giggled.
“Hurry up,” He said, “Show me.” His voice was a mere whisper.
You could still hear the music and the singing in the background as you held his stare and laid down on his soft bed, on your back. He stood at the end of the bed looking down at you like an old god looking at a sacrifice. With hunger in his eyes like you’d never seen before.
He watched as if in trance, as you bent your knees and spread your legs. His breaths got deeper as he watched how wet you were, your finger slowly sliding up and down your slit. He inched just a little closer as you began gasping and whimpering, your finger slipping in and out of you.
Your other hand toyed with your nipple, twisting and tugging. You held his dark stare as you moaned, back arching off the bed, the slightly chilly air hit your bare chest and caused your nipples to erect even further.
“Oh gods…” Bucky whispered, watching as you put on a show. Watching as you whined in pleasure as the pace at which your fingers effortlessly slipped in and out of you increased. You looked down and saw the bulge in his pants. He was barely holding back.
The way he watched you, the feeling of anticipation knowing he would fill you up soon, all of it made your heart race. Outside, the music rose to a crescendo again and you moaned louder, fingering yourself faster, the palm of your hands rubbing against your sensitive clit over and over again as your middle finger slipped in and out of you.
You gasped, “Bucky…” You moaned quietly under your breath, imagining it was his fingers that were touching you instead of your own. “I need you…” you mumbled in the haze that you were in, “Please… I need you.”
He wasted no time in grabbing you by the thighs and dragging you to the edge of the bed as he knelt to the ground. He placed your legs over his shoulders and leaned down to kiss your belly. He was rock hard, barely able to think straight. But fuck he needed to hear you moan as you came.
“I fucking missed you,” He mumbled as he kissed around where your shaky fingers were buried in your wet cunt. “Let me taste you.” He whispered before gently slipping your fingers out of your hole and into his mouth. He sucked on them like they’d just been dipped in the sweetest honey.
“Oh fuck…” You moaned, looking at him. The great Chief, kneeling in between your legs, sucking your taste off your fingers… it was heady. “Please,” You murmured again when you noticed that he was teasing you, keeping you waiting on purpose.
He let go of your fingers, smirking as he looked up at you. “I’ve been wanting to taste you.” He whispered, his warm breath making you squirm. Chuckling at your restlessness, he parted your folds and buried his mouth in between them, eating you out like he was a starving man and moaning at your taste.
Relentlessly, passionately. His warm mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked on it occasionally. His tongue teased your entrance as he took his time to feast in between your legs.
Your fingers slid into his hair, it had gotten slightly longer you realised as you grabbed a fistful of it, tugging on it gently as his mouth teased you.
“So this is what you did, huh? While I was away, rescuing people and fighting rough seas…” His tongue slowly circled around your clit and he earned more and more moans out of you. “You were here, touching yourself.”
Your legs trembled as he locked his arms around your thighs and pushed your core further into his mouth and made you cry out of pleasure. You whined. “Please, Bucky…”
He chuckled, darkly. “No.” He pulled away, licking his lips. “Not so easily.”
He stood up, got rid of all his clothes before climbing into bed with you. His glorious, inked, naked body hovered above yours as he looked down at you with nothing but fondness and desire in his eyes. You looked down, whimpering at the sight of him stroking his hard cock, it was leaking already.
Bucky looked down at you and smiled before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck, “Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”
You cried out, “Yes! Please, Buck–,”
He cut you off by sliding into you, filling you up. You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly and he growled under his breath as he filled you up entirely. “Look at me,” He said. When you did, he smiled and laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head as he sped up into you. “Fuck,” He swore, “You feel like you were made for me.”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head once he started rocking in and out of you with your legs locked behind his back. He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you hard and fast.
The music outside felt like it echoed inside your head. It made your heart race, like a soundtrack to this ethereal union.
“Tell me you belong to me,” He whispered, lips brushing against yours as his cock stroked your inner walls perfectly. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m… I’m yours,” You said, breathlessly.
“That’s right,” He breathed against your mouth. “All fucking mine.” He repeated, kissing along your skin and moaning into your ear, “Fuck, you feel so good.” He said as he sped up again, fucking you nice and deep to show you that you belong to him. “Come for me,” He said, knowing he wouldn’t last too long, “Come on sweetheart, come for me.”
You cried out as you did, coming undone as he kept pounding into you until he finished inside you. Bucky nuzzled your neck, kissing your skin as he caught his breath. You wrapped your arms around him lazily, feeling his heart racing just as fast as yours was.
He sighed in bliss as he finally laid down beside you, taking you with him so more than half of your body was on top of his. He kissed the top of your head and whispered, “I missed you like a madman.”
You smiled, kissing his damp skin as you replied, “I did too. It felt… empty without you.” You lifted your head up to look at him. “Your hair is longer.” You pointed out.
Bucky chuckled, “You like it?”
You nodded, “It suits you.”
He smiled, caressing your cheek again. “I like you in my bed.” He murmured.
You smirked, lifting yourself up to straddle him properly. You grabbed his semi hard cock and slid it inside you again, gasping as it went in easily. Bucky groaned in pleasure, his hands holding you by the waist, ready to lift you up and down his cock.
“I really like me in your bed too.” You said, and began riding him until you both came once more.
—
And so, winter passed by.
You kept everyone safe and warm. Your bond with Bucky was not a secret anymore given you were always seen together. Judging by the smiles on people’s faces when they saw the two of you together, you’d say they were more than happy for Bucky.
You spent more time in Bucky’s house than the one you were assigned when you first got here that Bucky suggested you move in, and let someone else have the other home.
“I like having you in my home.” He said one night as he pulled your worn out, bare body into his. He kissed your shoulder, and made sure you were properly warm under the soft furs, in his bed. “Come live with me.”
So you moved in.
Your days started and ended with Bucky. With his soft, loving, often demanding touch. His merciless and passionate kisses. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything.
He was a stern, just, and caring chief to the rest of the village but only you saw the softer side of him.
The way some evenings he would lay his head in your lap and grumble until you played with his hair until he fell asleep.
Or how much he loved it when you braided his hair, he’d wear it proudly.
Or how he always gave you the best bites of food when you dined together.
The way he would always make sure you had enough fur and blankets on your side of the bed at night.
Or how he’d always accompany you when you took your little wolf for walks in the woods.
Or how he’d often tempt you into going for midnight swims with him at the lake. How he’d kiss you under the moonlight, smiling like a lovesick young boy instead of the great chief he was.
During those moments, you often wanted to freeze time and just stay with him forever.
Forever… but that wasn’t possible, was it?
—
The weather, naturally, didn’t stay freezing cold. It got warmer, and warmer as winter faded into a gentle, barely there spring.
Your little wolf grew, and kept growing. Time, you realised, moved and with it came time to say goodbye.
Winter was nearly over. Everyone knew, everyone could see it. But nobody said anything. You were still greeted with the same grateful smiles and infinite gifts whenever you stepped out. Steve and Sam never mentioned it, they kept filling your days with stories of their youth and more laughter.
Bucky, it seemed, had forgotten all about what the end of winter meant.
And it hurt you more than you thought it would when it came time to confront him about it. It took you two days to build the courage to break both of your hearts. You didn’t want to leave, but you had to, didn’t you?
He was home early that evening, in a good mood too. As soon as you opened your mouth to say something though, he announced, “I’m going for a swim, come with me?”
You shook your head. “I don’t feel like it. You go ahead.”
He smiled, kissed your forehead and left. The sunset as soon as he was out of the door. He’d been going on a lot of swims lately, which again indicated that the weather was getting warmer.
You waited for him to get back. Your heart breaking in the meantime.
–
“We need to, um, talk.” You said, once he’d put on clean, dry clothes again. You watched as he dried his hair with a piece of fabric as he turned to face you.
The buttons of his tunic undone with the tattoos on his chest peeking through, his hair was a damp mess, his blue eyes shining. He was so beautiful. So beautiful it hurt.
“What about, sweetheart?” He tossed the fabric aside and placed his hands on either side of your waist. “Everything okay?”
You looked up at him. Didn’t he notice? Couldn’t he see you were wearing the same cloak you wore the day he met you? Couldn’t see you were ready to leave? You spoke with tears in your eyes, “Winter is nearly over, Bucky.” You whispered in a shaky voice.
Silence. Only the few nearby torches. And the crickets outside.
Bucky clenched and unclenched his jaw. You could see it through the stubble on his cheeks. “What do you mean?”
He knew what you meant. You could tell. He was just giving you a chance to rectify what you said. But you didn’t. Instead you said, “Winter is over, it’s time for me to go.” The tears fell. Hot and burning, much like the tension between the two of you even after all these months.
Bucky was quiet, then he let out a humourless chuckle. “What are you saying? You want to leave me?”
You sighed as he made this difficult for both of you. “You know what I mean. We had a deal, remember?” You swallowed a sob. “We–,”
“I swear to gods,” He cut you off, pulling you closer and growling, “Do not fucking test me right now.”
More tears fell down your face. “Bucky…” You whispered. “I can’t stay here. You know that. It’s what I do, I help people. It’s what I’m meant to do with this…” You sighed, “This magic.”
“Who said that?” He argued. “Who said you couldn’t choose what made you happy? Who said you had to keep wandering? Huh?” He leaned closer, the tip of his nose touching yours, “Who said you can’t stop once you found a home? A real one?” He gently kissed the corner of your mouth. “You have a home here, you have me. Stay.”
You breathed in the manly scent of him. Felt the roughness of his stubble against your skin. Felt his body heat. Why couldn’t you stop? Because it scared you. “I can’t.” You mumbled, even as your heart screamed stay, stay, stay.
Bucky pulled away. His face was stone cold. Emotionless. His hands left your waist and clenched into fists as he stared at you. As Chief, he wasn’t used to people disobeying him.
“Fine then,” He spoke with a bitter voice. “You want to leave? Then I’ll follow. And my people will follow me no matter where I go.” He spoke with a confidence that only a true leader can have. “So wherever you go, you’ll find me behind you. And a whole village behind me. Is that what you want?” You could hear the stubbornness in his voice, the determination. The promise.
“You can’t.” You reasoned. “You have a duty here, Bucky. My work here is done, I lifted the dome yesterday and no one even noticed. That just goes to show I’m not needed here. You have a life here,” You said, “Not me.” More tears streamed down your face. Your mind and heart were screaming in contradiction.
Bucky just stared at you, his heart slowly breaking. Then he said, calmly but fiercely, “I have nothing without you. Nothing.” He stepped closer to you again, “You made me feel alive again, you made me feel like I was more than just a chief, like I was a man again. Just a man who is madly in love with the woman of his dreams.” His words made you weak. “You’re… everything. Don’t leave me.” He pleaded, quietly.
You couldn’t help but hide your face in his chest as you sobbed. He cradled your head, kissing the top of it.
“I will send word.” He said, as you sobbed quietly. Your tears drenching his tunic. “People will know where to come find you if they need you.” He reassured you. “Stay with me, be my wife, let’s have children together,” He cupped your face and made you look up at him. His ocean blue eyes staring down loving into yours. “Let’s have a life together.”
You sniffled. “You’re awfully stubborn.” You said.
He smiled, his own eyes tearing up. “And you love me for it.”
You sniffled again. “I do.” You confessed. “I do love you.”
“And I love you.” He leaned in for a gentle kiss. “Stay with me. You have a home here.” He whispered against your lips. “You’ve helped plenty of people all over this world. It’s not selfish if you choose to settle down now and choose your happiness.”
“I’m scared.” You admitted. “I’ve never… I don’t know if I can… I mean, I don’t know if–,”
He cut you off with another loving kiss. “Shh, I’ve got you. We will figure it out. Together.”
You gave him a faint smile through the tears as you nodded. “Together.”
And choosing to stay back with him, for him, ended up being the best decision you’d ever made.
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader
Summary: Your first date with Bucky doesn't go as planned, but that makes it all the more special.
Word Count: Over 4.7k
Warnings: First date, tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly.
Previous Part of AU: Sweet and Strong
A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Tonight was the night. You were going out with Bucky Barnes. Excited for the date was a bit of an understatement. You may have told a few customers you had a date when they wished you a good day.
Thank God they were mostly regulars and seemed happy on my behalf.
"Maybe a sundress isn't nice enough," you told Tess, regretting the words the moment they left your mouth. She didn’t need to deal with you and your overthinking. Again.
"It's plenty nice. You’re going to look amazing,” she argued, going to check on the next batch of cookies. “And he can lift the skirt and bury his-"
"I thought you said I didn't have to get laid on my first date with him," you cut her off.
"You don't have to, but the visual alone will give him something for his spank bank later."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you smiled, but it quickly faltered.
You weren’t sure why a cloud drifted over your sunny disposition. Bucky was a good guy, a far cry from Richard. Gorgeous, kind, hardworking, the whole package. There was chemistry between the two of you that went beyond mere attraction. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard and fast for him that suddenly made you so nervous. You didn’t want to scare him away.
But he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.
Tess gave you a pointed look. “Stop overthinking. I’m begging you.”
“I’m not trying to,” you sighed, your nerves almost tempting you to grab a treat from the case. “What if I fall on my face?”
“Like Bucky would let you hit the ground. Even if you do stumble, that’s life. It isn’t going to change the fact that he likes you,” she said as you helped her with the cookies. You still had work to do. “The guy said he can’t get you off his mind and to text him whenever you want. He does not strike me as the type to just say those things and I know he doesn’t strike you as that type either.”
It took a moment, but your smile came back. She was right. Life wasn’t perfect and you were far from it, but Bucky liked you just as you are. Tonight would be unforgettable no matter what.
“I appreciate the pep talk,” you said, thankful that she told you what you needed to hear. “I’ll even tell you the dirty details if anything happens.”
“Hell yeah, you will. Remember, at this point, I’m living vicariously through you until I find my own hunk,” she winked. “But I mean it. Have fun tonight and get your man.”
I will.
After your shift, you rushed to change for your date. You somehow managed to arrive a few minutes early outside of Bucky's shop and took a deep breath to get yourself under control. Catching your reflection in the window, you smiled before you turned away. Since Bucky hadn’t given you any hint for what you were doing, you chose your nicest sundress and kept your makeup minimal. You looked and felt beautiful, though you wished you would’ve brought a jacket with you.
Maybe Bucky will let me borrow his if he has one.
“Holy shit.”
You spun around when you heard Bucky’s voice behind you, your heart fluttering as he met you on the sidewalk. Instead of the jeans you usually saw him in, he wore khakis, a button up shirt, and a blue blazer that matched his eyes. He had his hair down, perfectly parted on the right side. You were so busy staring at the broad, handsome man that it took you a moment to realize he was trying to hand you something.
Flowers.
“Sorry. You just… wow,” he said as you took the small bouquet, sweeping his gaze over you as your cheeks grew warm. “You look so beautiful.”
You giggled and quickly covered your mouth with your hand, butterflies in your stomach when he gently smiled. “Don’t apologize,” you smiled back, taking a moment to smell the flowers. “You look pretty ‘holy shit’ yourself.”
His nose scrunched as he laughed and offered you his hand. “So, you’re telling me I clean up well. Steve insisted on the blazer when I said I wanted to bring my leather jacket.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Though I wouldn’t have minded the leather jacket,” you said. He would’ve looked gorgeous, as always. “And thank you for suggesting we meet here. We had a last minute order and I was scrambling."
"It's no problem. One of my clients was running a few minutes late and I almost had to take you out in jeans."
"I wouldn't have minded," you said. You both worked hard and understood that things would come up from time to time. "So, where are we headed?"
He cleared his throat as he led you to his car. “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”
Your stomach dropped a little. “Mmm. Bad news first,” you said after a moment. “Always better to end on a high note.”
“Bad news was I had planned to take you out on my motorcycle so we could have a picnic in the park. There was going to be live music and I would’ve asked you to dance,” he explained, looking up at the sky. “But…”
“The weather called for a storm tonight, didn’t it?” you mused, a wistful smile on your face when he nodded. The image of being in his arms under the stars as music drifted through the air made your heart skip a beat. It sounded like the perfect evening.
“Yeah. The band is rescheduling,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear as he looked at the ground. “Then I thought I could take you to this art gallery nearby. They normally have these stunning paintings of landscapes and various statues, but the current exhibit is on human sexuality and reproduction. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but maybe it was too much for a first date.”
“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad,” you argued as he stopped and took out his phone.
“No?” he asked, tapping his screen before he showed you what you assumed was the page for the gallery.
“…That’s a giant dick,” you said before you could stop yourself, tilting your head as you stared at the phone. “And does that say BALLS?”
An older woman crossing in the opposite direction gave you an amused stare before you and Bucky burst into a fit of laughter. You had to hold on his arm to keep from collapsing on the ground. It was the funniest thing you had seen since you could remember and to think you almost saw it in person.
This date is off to a great start.
“Maybe I wanted to see a giant dick and balls,” you said once you caught your breath, pointing at him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say ‘all I have to do is pull down my pants’ or something like that.”
But I know he has a big dick. I know.
He smirked as he started walking again. “Only if you ask me nicely, Sugar.”
He’s going to kill my ovaries.
“I’ll ask you very nicely, Hottie,” you teased, wondering exactly where you were going then. “If that was the bad news, what’s the good news?”
“I managed to get us a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town,” he said, standing a bit taller.
He’s trying to impress me.
“That's really nice. And I’m sure dinner will be amazing,” you assured him, hoping he didn’t beat himself up over having to change his plans. It wasn’t his fault it was going to rain. He could’ve taken you to a fast food place and it would’ve been fine because you were with him.
“Speaking of, I better get us there so we aren’t late,” he said, opening the door for you to get in. “Maybe if you agree to a second date, I can take you out on my bike and have that picnic.”
“I’d love that,” you smiled, carefully putting the flowers in your lap and trying not to appear too eager that he was already thinking of a second date. You glanced around the car when he got in and drove off, noticing it was cleaner than when he took you home days prior.
Did he clean it for me?
You grinned as he hummed along to the radio, watching as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “You could’ve made it as a musician if you weren’t a tattoo artist.”
“Now you’re just flattering me, Sugar,” he said. “Believe it or not, if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, I would’ve liked to be a science teacher. I loved science and everything space related growing up.”
“Really?” you asked. He would’ve been a wonderful teacher, no matter what age group he taught. “Okay. That’s another date night.”
“What? Playing teacher?” he joked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to wink at you.
“No,” you giggled, carefully shoving his arm since he was driving. “We’re going to a science museum. That's our third date. I’m going to watch you happily geek out over everything.”
“Yeah?” he asked, glancing at you after he parked the car. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah, I would. I think it would be a blast.”
I just want to spend time with you.
A soft expression took over his features when he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips lightly brushed your skin, heat pooling in your gut as he made eye contact with you. The look alone made you want to skip dinner and go right to dessert. Why not throw caution to the wind?
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised before he got out.
You exhaled slowly and mentally told your libido to calm down. At the very least, you had to get through dinner. He went through the trouble of getting a reservation at a nice place and you weren’t about to take that away from him.
“Oh, wow. I haven’t been here before,” you said once you got a look at the name. Richard used to brag about the place, but never actually took you. From what you remember, he said the food was supposed to be expensive. You didn’t want Bucky to splurge on you.
“I haven’t either,” Bucky admitted. A fancy place didn’t seem like his style. “But it looked romantic.”
You bit your lip as he opened the door, the flickering candlelight in the entryway alone providing an intimate ambience. The date may not have been what he planned, but he clearly did his research and put thought into doing something nice for you. When was the last time someone tried to do something nice for you? When did anyone go out of their way to make you feel special?
“Hello,” Bucky said as the hostess greeted you. “Reservation for two under James.”
James?
The hostess scanned her screen before she looked up. “I’m sorry. That name isn’t coming up.”
Bucky’s cheeks turned pink when you glanced at him. “It should be under James, miss. James Barnes. Reservation for two for 7pm. I spoke with Charles. He confirmed it.”
You moved closer to Bucky when the hostess searched through her screen again. As calm as he sounded, you sensed he was anything but inside. You hoped he wasn’t embarrassed. Maybe she skipped over his name. A simple mistake.
“Charles did make a reservation for you, but he entered it for 7pm next Friday,” she said as she looked between the two of you. “We’re fully booked tonight. I'm sorry, James.”
Oh, no.
There was a tick in Bucky’s jaw before he shook his head and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. “No, that’s… It’s for tonight.”
“I’m so sorry. I can see if we can squeeze a table in for you, but it’ll be at least an hour,” she said, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She probably expected one or both of you to make a scene. "I can get my manager?"
Bucky swallowed when he looked at you, his cheeks still pink. The candlelight danced in his eyes, but all you saw was sadness. No. You wouldn't allow that. This was your first date and it was going to be amazing.
You put a hand on his arm, his muscles relaxing under your touch. "It's okay. I know this amazing place that’s right around the corner."
"Are you sure?" he asked, the hostess visibly relaxing when you nodded.
"You have a good evening," you said to the hostess and tugged Bucky back toward the door. "I'm sure. Trust me. We may even beat the rain if we walk now."
“Okay,” he said, avoiding your gaze as you left. “Fuck. This is the worst first date, isn’t it?”
Your heart broke for him. All he wanted was to give you a nice evening and everything he tried fell through. “Not even close. And you have nothing to apologize for. Charles messed up the reservation, Hottie, not you.”
“Yeah, he did,” he said, his lip tugging like he wanted to smile. “I just really wanted tonight to be special and since I couldn’t give you the date I planned, I wanted to at least give you something nice. I couldn't even do that.”
Hearing that made you stop, even when you felt the first raindrop. "Tonight is special because you're spending time with me. That's all I wanted," you promised, squeezing his hand for good measure.
"That's really all?" he asked as he squeezed your hand in return.
"Well, not completely," you teased as another raindrop landed on your shoulder. "Maybe a kiss at the end of our date."
A wide smile formed on his face as he leaned in, not quite kissing you. "Whatever you want, Sugar."
As romantic as it was to stand on the sidewalk with him, the rain began to come down harder and had you rushing with him around the corner. “If you're still disappointed, you’ll feel much better when we eat. Antonia’s has the best food,” you said, holding out your hand in a grand gesture as you arrived. “Tada!”
Antonia's was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Not extraordinary on the outside, but lively and bright on the inside. The food and service were top notch. It was one of your favorite places.
“Wait, Antonia's?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “This is where you’re taking me?”
“Yeah,” you replied, suddenly nervous as you faced him. Did he not like it? “Is this okay?”
“This is one of my new favorite restaurants,” he said.
No way.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. I designed one of Antonia's tattoos. And I decided to check out the place."
He's full of surprises.
"Then you know you're in for a treat," you winked.
The hearty aroma of the restaurant filled the air as you went inside and wiped some of the rain off your dress. Antonia was speaking with the hostess as you went up to the stand. The owner was involved in virtually every part of her restaurant.
"Welcome to…" Antonia began as she looked at you, then at Bucky, then back at you. "Oh! You two… it's a date!"
Antonia looks so happy.
"Hi. And yes. We're on a date," you giggled when Bucky sheepishly smiled. It was sweet. "You wouldn't happen to have a table for two available, would you?"
Antonia put her hand over her heart and flagged down a waiter with the other. "Lover's special for these two. Go."
You exchanged a look with Bucky, who appeared just as confused as you were. "Lover's special?"
"Yes, yes. Come with me," she said, patting Bucky's cheek before she took you through the restaurant. You expected her to seat you at one of the few empty tables, but she passed them to take you to a door in the back. "Tonight is special and that means a special dinner."
Your eyes widened at the sight before you once she opened the door. There was a lone table in the middle of the room, flowers similar to the bouquet Bucky gave you sat in the center. Unlike the bright main room, the dimmed lights gave the room a romantic glow.
Perfect.
"Peter will serve you. And if you need anything, just ask, okay?" Antonia asked, putting her hand over her heart again. Were there tears in her eyes? "Two of my favorite customers. Together! Enjoy!"
You had to pause and swallow the lump in your throat once she left you alone. A restaurant owner showed more enthusiasm for your date than your mom did for anything that involved you. She likely never would.
"You okay?" Bucky asked, pulling out your chair.
"I'm fine," you replied, refusing to let the thought of your mom damper the evening. "A little chilly. I should've brought a sweater with me."
Bucky removed his blazer and put it around you, tenderness in his blue eyes as he rubbed your arms. "I can't wait to see you in my leather jacket," he said, helping you take your seat before he took his.
Oh, he's going to give me his jacket? Am I going to only wear his jacket? Fuck.
"Thank you," you said, inhaling as he rolled up one of his sleeves beneath the elbow and then the other. You reached across the table to lightly trace one of the tattoos on his right arm. "It was nice of Antonia to put us back here."
"Then why did you look so sad when she left?"
He caught that?
"She just looked so happy to see us together and I didn't expect that. It's nice that someone is rooting for us," you said, tracing your finger along his wrist before you stopped. "I'm sorry. I should've asked before I started touching."
"Don't apologize. I like your touch," he said in a low voice.
You lifted your gaze, seeing fire in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dim lighting. When he turned his hand over to hold yours, you made no move to pull away. You wished you could put your hands all over him.
"Hi! I'm Peter!" The waiter greeted as he brought water to the table. Bucky didn't let go of your hand. "I'll be taking care of you tonight."
"Only one taking care of my girl tonight is me," Bucky said. As much as you loved hearing that, you were glad he gave poor Peter a tiny smile so he could relax. "I'm kidding. It's good to see you, Peter."
"Y-You, too, Mr. Barnes. And you, Miss. You have the best cupcakes in town."
"Thanks," you smiled, quickly putting in your order before you gazed at Bucky. "So, James. Tell me more about you. How long have you been friends with Steve?"
"James is my first name. Everyone calls me Bucky," he chuckled before he shook his head. "And that punk."
You smiled softly as you listened to Bucky, not at all surprised by how easily the conversation went. Steve was his best friend since childhood and they served together before they went into business together. It was evident that he took pride in his shop and respected everyone who worked there. He carried the same affection in his tone when he spoke about his sister, Rebecca. He liked to frequent art galleries with Steve, but also enjoyed riding his bike, reading, and everything science in his spare time.
I could listen to him talk for hours.
"You know, you haven't said much about yourself," he pointed out as he set his napkin on his empty plate.
"I haven't?" You asked.
"No, you haven't and I don't want to monopolize the conversation," he said, leaning forward to give you his full attention. "I want to know more about you."
You tightened the blazer around you, unsure of what to say. "My life isn't exactly exciting," you said, wishing you could think of something clever or fun to discuss.
"Doesn't have to be exciting. I just want to know you," he said before Peter showed back up.
"Would you like to look at the desert menu?" he asked as he took your plates away.
"I think you can bring the check. We're going to skip dessert," you answered, giving Bucky an assuring smile when he frowned. "Let's go to my shop instead."
If Bucky wanted to really know you, you had to tell him more of your story. Your bakery was the only place to do it. And it would be the perfect way to end the evening.
After you left the restaurant, with Antonia asking you to come back again, Bucky drove as safely as he could to the bakery. The rain didn't let up at all. You shrieked as you struggled to get the keys out of your purse, Bucky's blazer now soaked the longer you stood there. "Why didn't I get these out when I was still in your car?!" You shouted over the downpour.
"Why didn't I bring an umbrella?!" He yelled back, putting his hands over your head as if they would protect you.
The two of you practically fell through the door once you unlocked it and shut off the alarm. "We made it," you laughed, careful not to slip on the floor. He had his arm around you just in case. Tess was right, He wouldn't let you fall. "I'll get us some towels and you have your pick of any dessert I have in the fridge."
"You have any cupcakes?" He asked.
Your breath caught in your throat when you stepped back and caught the outline of multiple tattoos through his soaked shirt. "Yeah."
"See something you like?" he smirked, running a hand through his wet hair.
Fuck me.
"I do," you said, glancing down at yourself. "But I'm freezing and I owe you dessert."
Tess might also have words if I let Bucky ravage me by the front door.
You took Bucky to the kitchen and grabbed a few towels. It wouldn't dry you off completely, but it would help. You also put on some soft music. Not to set the mood necessarily, but just in case.
"So, this is where the magic happens," Bucky said, running the towel along his exposed skin.
"It is," you said, placing your hand on the counter. "You said you wanted to know me. It starts here."
"In the kitchen?"
"In the kitchen," you repeated, going to the fridge to take a container of cupcakes out. "I used to visit my grandparents every weekend when I was growing up. My dad wasn't around and my mom said it was for family quality time, but she never stuck around. The reality was that I cramped her style and she passed me off to them because she knew they wouldn't say no."
Bucky's jaw clenched as you let him take a cupcake. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," you said, gripping the lid tightly before you closed the container. "I remember crying because I wanted to take dance classes and try and make friends. My mom said I would be a terrible dancer and that it would be a waste of time and money. A great thing for a kid to hear, right?"
"Jesus," he whispered.
It wasn't exactly the happiest conversation to have, but you wanted to show Bucky a part of you that you didn't show to most people. "My grandma wiped my tears away and brought me into her kitchen. Said she had the perfect cure for the blues. Baking. And that's what we did every weekend until I got old enough to look after myself."
"Your grandma sounds amazing," he said, carefully examining the cupcake in his hand. "And baking became your passion."
"It did. She taught me to pour love into every creation I make. And that's what Tess and I do for others. If someone is having a bad day, at least they can have a treat and feel a little better," you said, pride in your eyes as you looked around. "My grandma supported my dream, but my mom almost disowned me for wanting to run this place. It isn't good enough in her eyes."
I'm not good enough.
Bucky's nostrils flared as he set the dessert down. "Your business isn't good enough for her? What the hell? It's flourishing. I can barely find a lull to come in to get some undivided attention. And your customers love you. She should be proud of you."
His defense of you was heartwarming. "Doesn't matter how successful my business is. She wanted me to marry rich, probably so she could get money from me, but I didn't. She berated me when I broke up with Richard. No matter what I do, I'm never going to be good enough in her eyes," you told him, patting the counter with your hand. "But this makes me happy and that's enough."
"That's why you were sad that Antonia was so happy about our date, wasn't it? Because your mom either doesn't or wouldn't support it," he guessed, reaching for you and pulling you into his arms. "She'll probably hate me. I'm not rich. Covered in tattoos."
"I don't care what she thinks of you. I don't need a rich guy or fancy dates. I just want someone who can provide companionship and support. Someone who respects and cares for me," you said, wrapping your arms around him. "A good, hard-working guy like you deserves the same."
It was too soon to voice it, but Bucky was the kind of man you needed in your life. Someone you could share parts of yourself with and know he wouldn't judge. A man who made your heart race beyond lust.
A partnership.
He stared deeply into your eyes and you had no idea what was going through his head, but his gaze told you so much. How could a pair of eyes be so expressive? "You're perfect, Sugar, and more than enough. You hear me?"
Tears welled up in your eyes before you blinked them away. He sounded sincere and unashamed at his declaration. You hadn't done anything to deserve such praise. "No, I'm not," you whispered.
"You are to me. You took a chance and asked me out. Soothed me when tonight didn't go the way I thought it would," he said, gripping your chin to recapture your gaze. "And you trusted me enough to share something vulnerable with me when you didn't have to. It means everything."
"I feel like I can open up to you," you said as the two of you slowly swayed to the beat. You couldn't remember why you were nervous about your date to begin with.
"And I'll take care of you. I mean it."
I hope he knows I'll take care of him, too.
"You know," you began with a soft smile. "Our first kiss was in your shop."
"It was," he smiled.
"So I think it's only fair that we have our second kiss in my shop," you said.
"You did say you wanted a kiss to end our date," he said, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, but giving you a chance to stop him.
You didn't.
Even though you expected it, you still gasped when he molded his mouth against yours. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, making you both eager and pliant as he licked his way across your lips. When he brushed his tongue against yours and took possession of your mouth, you mewled. Desire nearly blinded you from the taste of him.
I want more.
"I don't want our date to end," you breathed, clutching his arms to steady yourself.
"It doesn't have to," he said, resting a hand on your hip. His eyes were dark and full of want. To have him look at you that way, how could you possibly end the evening with one kiss? Why deny yourself what you both wanted?
"No, it doesn't," you agreed with a coy smile. "So. My place or yours?"
So. How do we think the evening will go? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
javier peña x f!reader | chapter eight of late night texts
summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.
chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. fluff. falling in love. idiots in love. we're approaching the sadness ✨
wordcount: 3.4k.
text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi
It takes longer to get going the next day—mainly due to the number of times one of you begins pulling the other close.
A simple kiss here, a nuzzle there.
The morning ticking away as the two of you remain blissfully happy under hotel sheets. All undressed, sated and smiling.
Now, he’s basking in your laugh.
Laughing at him as he tries (poorly) to explain and rationalise his low score on Snakes. The game you had told him about to begin with.
Tears falling from the edges of your eyes as he tries to argue his case repeatedly. Your little wheeze making his heart clench with joy—your head shaking, hand cupping your mouth as each noise slips out.
“You’re clearly just not good with your fingers.”
He pinches you teasingly. “You know that’s not true.”
You're still smiling, your laugh fading as shyness begins to fall over your features. It starts with your eyes dropping to the bedsheets hiding both of your bare skin, and he waits for the feeble ‘stop’ that’s usually accompanied by a swat.
It never comes.
You lift your gaze back up instead, something twinkling, sparkling in your eyes. “Give it to me.”
“What?”
Gesturing for his phone, you take it, all devious smirk with a wiggle of your shoulders. Throwing his arm behind his head, sighing—all blissful and content—as he leans against the headboard before you begin shifting in the sheets. Watching as you begin moving so your bare skin is on show as you do so. Slowly, and teasingly, you begin positioning yourself between his legs, as he sits up so your back connects with his chest.
“Watch the master, okay?”
He smirks, snorting. But he still slides his hands around your waist, feeling you twitch from the first feel of it before you relax.
“So what’s the—“
“Shh,” you say, his lips sliding to your cheek, smelling the lingering scent of your perfume from dinner last night—and the two of you.
His eyes fix on the screen. Watching the digital serpent slide around the screen to the sound of your key clicks—each pixel-bit collected as the tail grows longer. Your movements are quick—far quicker than he can text, never mind play this—
“Wait, you can go through walls?”
“This one… this one you can,” you reply, words dropping off, concentration hanging on each syllable.
It’s odd to be in awe of someone in how they control a snake across a screen. But he is. The score racked up, far surpassing the one that took him an embarrassing amount of time.
Then, the screen flashes, your groan so cute—grunting out of you as you shake your head in annoyance.
“You should take this off me.”
“Competitive, are we?”
Smirking, you hand him the phone as he casts it to the side with relative ease. More focused on keeping you here, close, skin to skin.
“How am I even meant to beat that score, querida?” His lips find the skin behind your ear.
“You’ll have to try real hard.”
“You’re devious.”
“I prefer menace.”
He’s about to agree, your mouth connecting with his—stealing them. Feeling the way you’re trying to punctuate something to him with your lips. Fingers brushing over his cheek, over the edge of the hair above his lip, before you slowly stop, lashes lifting to shower him in something which both shatters him and heals him all at once.
“I should shower. Alone.”
His mouth twists as he fights a smirk, all reluctant to let you leave this time. Like he had been the last time, his fingers softly holding your wrist, as you mumble about being quick, that if he was taking you out for the day, you wanted to not stink of sex.
Something he wouldn’t have complained about, personally. Until he remembers the scent of your body wash. The one which has been burying itself inside of him, a flurry of softness and sweetness that if he ever smells a single ingredient of it, he’ll think of you.
“I do wanna take you on all the dates, baby. So, go. Shower. Otherwise, I’ll never get the chance.”
You look over your shoulder, bent over your case. “All of them?”
“Need to cram in all I can until…”
His words fade as he feels himself lurch. The noticeable hole in his chest began to widen—the one first appearing when you fell asleep in his arms last night.
Now, though, he gets to watch your reaction too. A front-row seat to your bottom lip wobbling, eyes averting him—as though you’re splitting apart two.
He doesn’t think. He just moves. Javi's feet kick the sheets free as he walks over to you. “Yeah, let’s… let’s not talk about that.”
Burying his lips against yours to rid you of any remainders of it, as he positions your body back against him where he can. The wall greeting your back, his palm boxing you in until the two of you forget all about the impending deadline—and only about the now.
“Javi…”
He groans, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. You want a shower.”
Your fingers tap his chest lightly, forcing his head to lift, lips pressing a kiss to your hairline before turning.
Sighing, he runs his hand over his face—hearing the bathroom door close—as the sheets crinkle back beneath him, blending with the falling water coming from the room next to him.
He was happy.
Ridiculously so. It runs through him together with looser muscles and more relaxed nerves. It swims inside his chest and balloons his heart. Mainly, it sits in his cheeks—the ones slowly beginning to ache from how often he’s been sporting that grin only you can pull from him.
should I be worried about how long youre in the store for
The woman in front of me is returning her entire life and then using coupons to buy a new life. Kill me.
cant. unfortunately Id would miss you
You’d replace with me ease. Have you seen your face?
can’t replace you hermosa but hurry up before I begin taking a bite out of each of the donuts
You wouldn’t dare.
Id dare because the glazed one looks good
“We could do nothing.”
It’s not that he hadn’t thought of (or planned) what the two of you could do together, he just hadn’t expected to burn through them all so quickly.
It didn’t help that it had been a while—too long—since he’d dated a person. Rarely ever making it past the first date. Most of them being dinner or coffee, or not even making it to either and finding himself getting what he needed without learning their surname.
Smirking, he runs his tongue across his teeth. “Nothing isn’t a date.”
“Not that way, we do nothing,” you retort, and he shakes his head as he grins. “We’ve done a restaurant, a museum, a picnic. We’ve done a lot.”
“We could go to the cinema?”
“But that means I can’t talk to you for over an hour.”
Javi smiles, hand running across his jaw. “Could make out at the back, though?”
Pulling a face, you sigh. “You drive a hard bargain, you do. But—”
“Fine, no movies. Another time?”
Grinning, you lean back in the booth of the diner, the one you’d requested—determined to make your way through the menu before you left.
Smiling, you sigh contently. “One day, we won’t even need to question it. It’ll be like a weekday date thing we do—once a month, on a Wednesday.”
“You thought about it?”
You hum, glancing back over the menu—brows knitting as you attempt to choose. “What?”
“Us. Dating.”
Your eyes flash up, all wide, full of panic. “Is that… I guess—I mean, like I know this isn’t conventional in the slightest and—and we haven’t, like, talked about it. I… I’m fucking up, aren’t I? Shit—“
“Fuck, hermosa. No. I mean… us going on dates, together. After this week—in one location, a setting a plan.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Swallowing, you shift in your spot. “Um. Yeah, I have. The location is foggy, naturally.”
“Naturally.”
Your eyes fall to the table, fingers tapping along the plastic as you do. “I—I know… well, because I know you have the ranch and your pop, Javi.”
He swallows, rolling his lips as you try to fake a smile.
“So, I know what that means. As I’m sure, you do.”
He doesn’t, not a single clue. His brain racks to find it—what it is that you mean—but you clear your throat, eviscerating any further attempt at a push for that information as you smile, significant—all beautiful and charming.
“What about bowling?”
“You’re a cheat.”
Coming up behind you, he spins you on the spot. Welcomed immediately by your grin, the one he’s been able to admire on your face for the last hour.
“Don’t be like that, Spare. You did well. Only 28 points behind.”
Shoving a finger at his chest, shaking your head, “You blindfolded me for one.”
“So, I could kiss you.”
Smirking, you slowly wrap your arms around his neck, his arms finding their place on your hips. A place they’ve come to know as home. “You were worried about me winning, weren’t you?”
“You were showing me up.”
“Bet if we went shooting, you’d beat me—Mr DEA,” you say, the latter all a whisper.
“You’d go shooting?”
“Oh, fuck no. I can barely be trusted at the fair to shoot those little tin cans off the stand—you should not, I repeat not, put a gun in my hand.”
Beaming, he draws shapes with his thumbs. “Alright, noted.”
Watching you from the corner of his eye as you grin, fidgeting with your jacket before you look up, and come to a stop. Something flashes across your face, glee—excitement—your head twisting to meet him.
Then your hand slides inside his, the other hand wrapping around his wrist. He doesn’t fight the way you pull him towards it. The little photobooth you’d eyed up in the bowling alley.
“Please?”
As if he could ever say no.
Your legs over his, bodies crammed in the small space as he slides the dollar in. Your face is full of glee, your body bursting with excitement.
I’ve always wanted to do one of these.
There’s no decision on poses, you pressing your cheek to his as you slap the button, and the two of you grin on command. FLASH. Then after, it’s a quick reposition of movements that the two of you both seem to understand as you both pull a silly face. FLASH.
The next, he’s sure time slows for. Javi’s head turning, eyes lingering on you as your laugh blossoms across your features. His heart thundering in his chest, hammering so loud and heavy as that familiar, wanted, feeling flares up inside of him.
It isn’t until the next flash does he realise how wide he’s smiling. Feels it in his cheeks, as the light illuminates the flecks in your eyes—the ones he wants to fall into and never leave.
Then, time resumes, you leaning in—hand on his cheek, nose tip to his: the almost kiss.
FLASH.
Neither of you move. The two of you hovering as the photos finishes, the machine whirring—
“Kiss me,” you whisper, lips ghosting over his.
And who is he to deny you? Javi would kiss you forever if he could, so he slants his mouth over yours, feeling that rush of warmth in his chest that he gets when he kisses you. When he gets to, your smile presses against him, his fingers sliding up your neck.
“You’re so handsome, Javi.”
He smiles, thumb brushing your cheek as the machine spits out the two copies. Your arm diving, body twisting from him as you do—taking them, handing him one.
But he doesn’t even stare down at his own copy. Javi just watches as you take in yours. How your eyes flick down each one, alternating smiles as you take them all in—lingering back up to the third.
Just like he is.
“We look good.”
You grin, swallowing. “We do.”
You married yet?
shut up murphy
Tell her I said hi.
Javier Peña had wished for a lot of things when he was in Colombia.
A lead. A break. To catch Escobar. To take down the cartel. To keep himself intact—to leave with his head held high.
Then he wished for nothing. No reason to, no hope or want that even allowed the thought of one to appear, never mind to request it.
Now all he was doing was wishing.
As each hour of your last day together ticks on, he longs for more. Prays for a phone call that tells you that you can stay—craves a justifiable reason to throw you in his truck and take you back with him.
There isn’t one.
Just a looming goodbye and a prickling pain that’s biting at the edges of happiness and adoration.
He’d wanted to take you for food, but you’d insisted on drinks. Finding your leg between his as you tell him about your friend moving for her new job, about your childhood and how you had a goldfish once.
In the last few days, the two of you had shared so much, that the missing pieces of who the other is began to fill. He’d told you bits about Colombia, his Mom, Laredo.
You’d told him about work, about the people you meet—the issues you have to sort. The things in your apartment, the things you do with Aish and the life you live.
But, the the confession that gets to him, is spoken softer, dropped into conversation nervously—as though you’ve been worrying about speaking it:
I like all the things we’ve been doing, but I have missed doing the crossword with you.
It’s that declaration that makes him talk about why. Allows him share that he likes doing them with you too, having done them for something to do—no pressure after Colombia, just a puzzle that needed solving.
Javi isn’t stupid, he knows there’s a bigger reason as to why he likes doing them, and with you. Why they have fallen to the wayside as soon as he had you in his arms. It pulses in his chest and drums along his bones.
And then you take his hand, as though knowing it too. Clutching it tight, a thousand questions bubbling about Colombia, but are never spoken. Because you don’t ask, don’t push.
I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready.
Your words make his heart soar. Make the beer on the table fall over as he leans across to kiss you, to cup your cheeks and thank you with his tongue behind your teeth.
Now, he’s glancing over at you—watching you with your legs crossed, eyes shimmering from alcohol. You wrap cheese around your finger, licking it from your skin before taking a large bite.
“This pizza may be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
His mouth slides into a smirk, all about to make a comment when your eyes land on him.
“Second to you, of course.”
“You been around me a week, and look at the tongue you have on you.”
“Yeah, you’re a bad influence.”
Leaning back, he wipes his fingers on a napkin. “You mind?”
Shifting his weight on the floor, he watches as you chew—the back of your hand covering your mouth as your eyes roll, chewing more furiously. He shifts again, feeling something digging in, moving his hand to his back pocket of jeans, only to pull out a strip of photos.
The ones taken a day ago.
His fingers unfold them as he hears you clear your throat, reaching for your red cup filled with wine as his eyes land on the third one down. The one where you’re laughing, spotting how he’s looking at you—not sure if he ever remembers seeing that look on his face in any other photo or in the mirror.
“No, I—”
“Baby.”
He doesn’t mean to interrupt, but it's sitting on his chest again. Rising and falling like waves, and he’s tired of waiting for the storm to pass. Especially when he doesn’t want it to.
Javi wants it. You. Him. So much so, it’s close to erupting from him. The confession which has been sitting there, growing with each minute he spends with you until it thumps independently to his heart and feelings. A thing which has grown, expanded until it's now filling the space in him that he always imagined would be vast and empty.
“Javi…”
“I want those dates with you. Cinema ones, once a month.”
Watching as your mouth falls open, hand furiously wipes the pizza dust from your fingers onto a napkin as you turn on your hip to face him.
Clearing your throat, you sigh. “Me too. But, I know you have feelings on long distance, but—“
“Wait. What? What makes you say that?”
Shrugging, you avert your eyes, lips rolling together nervously. “You said the other day, about how you almost got married. Before the DEA. That you were glad. That the distance wouldn’t have worked, and it meant you could focus.”
His brow raises, waiting, wondering.
Thinking there’s more—there has to be. The pieces not fitting, until they slowly slide into view. Your words in the diner, I know what that means. As I’m sure you do.
“Querida, no—”
“Did I… Did I put two and two together?”
Taking your hand, pizza dust be damned, he sighs. “I… it was complicated. I just… I didn’t wanna marry her, but I didn’t want you to think I was an asshole for that. For leaving her, the way I did—I probably didn’t explain it well. But, it’s different with us. I want to make this work with you.”
His grip tightens on your hand, fingers lifting your chin so your eyes have nowhere else to look other than his.
“So, we don’t see one another every week. We’ll plan it—talk like we did before, and make sure we have phone dates.”
Nodding, he watches as your eyes fill with tears. Shimmering, making the flecks in your eyes stand out even more.
“You don’t think I’m too much?”
His eyes widen, face softening—realising he's doing it again, the puppy face (as you so eloquently called it a day ago).
“No. Not in the slightest. I told you—baby, I never think that. Haven’t once.”
You look surprised, but you swallow it—smiling instead. “It won’t be easy.”
And he wants to laugh. Because he knows that. He knows hard. He’s faced hard, run through and been smacked with hard.
This with you, it could never be described as that. It’s easy, like breathing or existing.
So he cups your cheek, seeing you visibly sobering under the conversation. “I think we can do it.”
It’s more a statement, than a question. Watching you think it over, all unreadable, anxiousness fluttering in his stomach.
“I know we can,” he adds. “Until one day…”
“One day,” you repeat, as though turning the words over on your tongue. “Are you… are you sure?”
Looping his fingers around your neck, he presses his forehead to yours. Intimate, close—romantic. “Of course, baby. I want this—you, us. Do… Do you?”
A tear falls, skidding down the apple of your cheek as you smile. “Of course. I… I may have cried in the shower this morning… because I didn’t want to say goodbye.”
He sighs, light—shifting the weight which had been resting on him and closing the hole in his chest. Pressing his lips to your forehead, thumb and fingers stroking your cheek.
“I can’t let you go, baby,” he whispers, resting his lips against your forehead.
His ears hear the faint sound of me, either, before your fingers wrap around his wrist, forcing his head to move back before your lips burn the reply against his.
Over, and over, again.
It begins tender, warm—tinged with other words he’s not sure he’s meant to hear—before it moves to something that burns. Your touch is like flames, leaving marks against him he never wants to vanish or be rid of. It grows messy, his tongue licking into your mouth as the pizza lays forgotten as you move into his lap.
Thighs on either side, fingers in his hair as he grabs your waist tight, pinning you close, until he makes you stand.
Then the bed is dipping, the sheets crinkling, and he has you close to him. His name falls from your lips as he whispers yours, the two names merging together—blending, just as the two of you are. His fingers spanning your hip, keeping you flush with him, nails in his hair.
Then he hears it, breathy and right up against his ear.
Mine.
His head pulls back, eyes staring into yours. “Todo mío.”
if you haven't already, please check out this gorgeous piece that was gifted to me by @ghostaholics 🩵 for this reason, this chapter, the many dates and the way they're falling, is dedicated all to you, G.
javier peña x f!reader | chapter seven of late night texts
summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.
chapter warnings: fluff. flirting. alludes to smut. sinful thoughts. continuous romcom vibes. an: javi and reader, sitting on a bed... ;)
also new theme, slightly amended banner. thanks to @wildemaven for giving me the confidence to use this one ✨
wordcount: 3.4k.
text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi
Javi wakes to cold sheets beside him.
He stretches his arm out—and for a moment—he forgets where he is. Expecting to hear his alarm, feel the bobbles from his overly worn bedsheet.
That is until he catches the scent of sweet shampoo, perfume and—
Flipping his eyes open, he then hears the rustling.
His senses come back to him as he slowly sits up, spotting you immediately at the foot of the bed.
Compared to yesterday, you’re dressed so formally: fitted trousers, a shirt and a jacket. Your leg doing a twist, head bent—as he assumes—you’re trying to slide your foot into your shoe quietly.
There’s minimal light fluttering into the room, all courtesy of your suitcase pushing against the heavy hotel curtains to allow enough to dress yourself. With it now allowing a slither of sunlight to creep over your face, lighting up the shades in your eyes—the ones he swears he’ll see forever when he dreams.
The sunlight illuminates your lips—the ones he’d spent hours tasting last night—now having the chance to admire as they slide into a smile, eyes widening at the sight of him.
“Morning—“
“Shh,” you whisper, brows dipping. “Go back to sleep, baby. It’s so early.”
Stretching out his legs, he runs a hand over his face. “I’ll go back to my room.”
“No, it’s okay, stay. Please. Just get up when you’re ready,” you offer. “Plus, if you move and I see any more of you, I’m not going to want to leave.”
Softly, he feels a smirk slide up his cheek. “That so?”
Moving around the bed, he curls into your touch as it brushes through his hair—sparking memories of nails, your mouth pressed to his cheek as you begged him for more—before your lips kissed the side of his mouth.
“Fuck. Forgot how much I like your voice.”
“Didn’t get your fill of it last night?”
Mirroring him, you smirk a bit more.
His hand snakes up your wrist, keeping you here—just a bit longer. Feeling your eyes dart from one of his to the other, your grin broadening as his thumb traces a square on your skin.
“Go to sleep. I’ll call you at lunch and let you know how I’m getting on.”
Your face is so close it’s easy to kiss you. Deepening it, letting your mouth part as he tastes mint on your tongue, his hand sliding up—
You pull back, humming as you tap your fingers against your lips. “I’ll be late.”
“I can be quick.”
Shaking your head, smirking. You move back from the bed. “I’ll see you later.”
Grinning, he lies back down, an arm flopping over his eyes. “You don’t mind me in your room?”
Pausing as you pick up your bag, you shoot him a look—one where your smile is across your entire face, not just your mouth. “I trust you. Plus, I have the important stuff, ID, money. And, if you were to steal anything, as handsome as you are, I doubt you can pull off my jean jacket, or some of the other things I've packed.”
Laughing, he shakes his head. "Have a good day, cariño."
“Try not to miss me, baby.”
There wasn’t duplicate sales, someone just can’t do their job correctly.
if you were back home I’d call them an idiot but since it brought you here
Valid point. I’m still annoyed that it took me longer to get in the building than it did me figuring it out.
Could have had longer in bed.
for sleeping
Probably not. This handsome man has me waking up early to talk to him as he starts his day.
It’s reprogrammed my internal clock.
he must be really nice for you to let him do that
He’s okay.
fuck hermosa
He’s got nice hands though. And lips.
has he now
Yeah, don’t think I could tell him to his face that I don’t think my legs have ever shaken that much.
can’t wait to make them shake again
Yeah that was obvious this morning, charmer.
cant blame a man when you look the way you do baby
Stop I can’t smile like that right now.
Few more hours and I’ll be getting a cab back, will let you know when I’m back, then just need to change and then I’m yours.
I can pick you up
It’s fine, work will pay so let’s make them.
You remind him again that you’ll knock for him before getting changed.
Call for him. Like the two of you were teens ready to hang out until the sun goes down—something he found endearing and quite funny, all at once.
you wanna ask my pop if i can stay out past curfew too
You’re hilarious. But I can do. I’d love to talk to your Pop.
worryingly i think hed love to talk to you
Did you ever make curfew?
do I strike you as someone who didn't
You strike me as someone who would work around the curfew, be technically on the land at the right time continuing the hang in the barn or something.
Through texts, you’d seemed in high spirits.
But when you reached his door, blasted with manufactured orange light from his room, Javi took one look at you and realised how much of a front that had been.
He barely knew you, yet he spotted how stress sat behind your smile and how your face was twisted into a fake version of the expression he saw yesterday.
“You fancy staying in tonight?”
It was why Javi was staring over the room service menu. Hearing you shower, cancelling the reservation he’d made earlier, listening as the water fell into the base (one thin wall away) as he placed the phone back on the hook.
Trying not to think of your body—of soap suds sliding down your perfect skin and how it was likely bending and twisting as you showered.
He tries not to think about the kiss, too.
The one you’d given him, arm looped around his neck when he suggested staying in, ordering room service and finishing a crossword. It had taken a moment, his eyes jumping from one eye to the next as he assessed whether he’d said something dumb or smart.
Your kiss confirmed the latter. Gratitude thrummed through it as you cupped his cheek—thank you, thank you, thank you, etching into him as he pulled your hips flush to him. Almost ready to pull you into his room when you’d mumbled about needing a shower.
That had been half an hour ago.
Now, he watched as you stepped out through steam, face fresh—black tee he could see the outline of your nipples through and a pair of yoga pants that made him almost choke when you bent over to pop something in your case.
"You alright?"
Swallowing, he shifts on the bed, tilting his head. "Yeah, hermosa. You just look..."
He prefers letting his voice trail off. Watching it flicker across your face, the embarrassment. It starts with your hands coming across your front, your weight shifting, before your eyes find it difficult to meet his.
“I never asked," he says, changing the conversation, feeling the warmth of your eyes snap back to him. "Your friend, Aish? Is it? She not have anything to say about you flying miles to meet a man you don’t know?”
You smile something wicked. “A few words, but..."
"But?"
Licking your lips, you look down at your feet. "I think she could see how happy I was. When I was talking to you. Think, like me, she just hoped you were who you said you were.”
Javi brushes his hand over his jaw, trying to fight the grin. The same one you constantly pull from him, his cheeks hurting from it happening so frequently all in one go.
“You put her mind at rest, baby?”
“Oh yeah. First chance I got.”
Moving to sit next to him, he hears the faint rumblings of your stomach. Something you quickly apologise for. And something you apologise for unnecessarily again a second or two later. His hand on your knee, drawing circles on the fabric covering it, hoping it assures you, relaxes you as he tells you as much.
“I don’t… I guess I don’t do things like this,” you say. “I’m not impulsive. I’m sensible—have to be. I don’t really have anyone, or thing, else if it all goes wrong, you know? And then you came along. And while my brain was telling me to be careful, the rest of me was just so sure this was…”
“Right?”
“Yeah,” you smile.
“So you’re glad?”
“If my stomach weren't about to begin eating itself, I’d show you how glad. But, Javi, truthfully, I wouldn't let you be in my room again if I wasn't.”
Allowing you to lean into him as you flick down at the menu, he presses a kiss to your cheek. “Good to know.”
Even if his original plans had been dashed, Javi still had plans to rid your body of the stress from your workday.
The alternative, he found, was just as pleasant.
After the two of you ate on the floor, you both moved to the bed to attempt the next crossword. Four answers were written before he found you in his arms, talking—sharing.
He learned more about your job, your place, and how you’d had a pet when you were younger.
Then, somewhere between sharing about music, movies and how good you were at Monopoly, you were curled against him, softly sleeping.
He could have moved, but he deep down he hadn't wanted to. Enjoying feeling your body rising and falling, your room rotating the smell of room service and your perfume in equal amounts.
He thought about your laugh from earlier when he told you about a horse trying to throw him off. The way his chest had flooded with warmth when you told him about how often you’d thought of him at work today.
It’s perfect. All of this. You.
It makes the corners of his lips slide up as he hears you take a sleep-filled sigh against him, your arm remaining tightly looped around his waist.
His eyes fall to the crossword—the one you’d attempted to complete—and was now close to falling off the foot of the bed. The previous days all filled in, block letters staring at him. Not even bothered in himself that he hadn’t managed to finish today.
Instead, he just focused on how nice it was having you against him. How he'd wanted this, before he even knew what you looked like. Had imagined your body is shaped and curled against his, but it hadn't even been close to this.
This, like you, was more perfect than his mind could conjure. Your knee currently between his, fitting perfectly—just like you do in every other aspect.
It's why he hasn't stopped running his fingers up and down your arm, surrendering to his position—not that he’s complaining. If anything, he never wants to move.
He had tried, initially. His brain worrying about what you'd do when you woke. Javi had attempted to rise up and tuck you in, but your hand simply clutched him closer, all unwilling to let him move.
He thinks about leaving every ten minutes, as though revolving. Only settling when his nose is re-flooded with the scent of your shampoo and perfume, making it harder to stop thinking the second thought on rotation.
The one which had slammed into him at the airport—the one which had been born some weeks back, bubbling inside him ever since—began rising up in his chest again, in his throat…
He likes you. Really likes you.
To the point, he’s not sure if he’ll be okay when he has to let you go. When he has to say goodbye and leave you at the airport departures.
Simply wanting languid kisses under bed sheets, your body under him, his fingers brushing your cheeks as he feels your laugh against his palm.
He wants more than a handful of days. Allowing himself to think it, acknowledge it, now he knows you're real.
Swallowing, he glances down at you—taking in the bow of your lips, the way your lashes sit on your upper cheek, and he relents. Just for a moment.
Instead, he rests his chin on the top of your head, letting his eyes close as he continues to slide his fingers up and down your arm.
He wasn’t meant to fall asleep. Javi had just meant to rest his eyes.
But he wakes to darkness, a slither of light peering through the closed curtains, with you very much beside him still. Your eyes closed, head on his chest, your own rising and falling as gently as earlier.
But the light had been on then.
A thought that hooks the edge of his lips, tugging it up. Because you would have needed to get up and turn it off, before climbing back into bed again. Moving under the duvet—likely whispering to him to do the same, because he too is now under it.
He lifts it tentatively, seeing that he’s still fully clothed, spotting that when you switched off the light, you’d also changed from your work clothes into a satin top and pair of shorts.
You’d wanted him here.
Javi beams. Broader than he's allowed himself to let grace his face. One that quickly, almost immediately, blossoms into a grin. One he continued to wear as he closed his eyes, pulling you closer—finding you do so with ease as he settled back down.
The next time he opens his eyes, he finds you struggling to cram in the few things you’d removed from your suitcase. The one you’d packed—like you were staying for a month.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he allows himself a moment—hearing the quiet, disgruntled grumbling coming from you as you push down on it as hard as you can.
“Want a hand?”
“No, no,” you protested, wiping your arm over your forehead. “All good.”
Nodding, he gets up to use your bathroom, back cracking as he does. After he's washed his hands, he splashes cold water on his face, staring at himself in the mirror—seeing the usual dark bags under his eyes, now appear fainter.
In truth, he wasn’t sure when the last time was that he’d slept as well as he had done the past two nights.
It niggling at him as turns the tap off, drying his hand, before he runs his fingers through his hair. Shelving the thought, the realisation, as he opens the door to be greeted with the same grumbles and sweet perfume.
One thing he does hope, is that your scent buries itself into his clothes, skin, and bones. Mainly, he hopes this isn't the only time he can see you, or be around you.
Something he thinks as he leans against the wall, folding his arms, trying not to laugh watching you give your case another few shoves. After several more quick and successive presses down, you look up at him, giving him the most wounded, puppy-like look.
“Okay, please help me.”
His knees groan as he gets down on them, pressing down on the suitcase lid—nodding to you to try the zip as it budges. The process continues, your fingers occasionally poking in the odd item that attempts to stick out—the heel of a shoe, the edge of the jean jacket you were in on the day he met you, and lace.
“So, I was thinking….”
Javi lifts his eyes, finding that yours are already on him.
“Did you…. want to share a room, maybe? Like, for the next few nights—I totally understand if you don’t want—”
“Baby,” he says, softly, full of please breath and assurance, as he leans back on his knees. “Are you sure?”
Nodding, biting your lip, your fingers slide over him on the suitcase. “I mean… we already have been, right? And, honestly, I hated even leaving you yesterday. Honestly, I… I don’t want to lose any more time with you than I already have.”
“Me too.”
It’s like an eclipse, the way you grin. Smothering over your worrying. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Lifting your case for you from being flat, you take the handle, continuing to grin before you follow behind him as you leave. His hand reaches behind, taking your fingers as the two of you head to his.
Half of him, not wanting to let go, see if he can grab his things with one hand while the other stays connected with yours. But he lets go, for speed, quickness, as he collects the things he managed to unpack in the room he's barely been in—never mind slept in.
Something you must realise, an apology hitting the air. Shifting on the spot at the door as he darts around.
Then, it's apology after apology. Different versions of the same thing, explanations that weren't necessary, because he didn't mind.
Something he also says.
It continues in the elevator, down to the small reception desk. The one more cramped, if that was even possible, than the first day they arrived. Your whispered reasons as to why you owe him made him slowly smile.
You didn’t even get to sleep in your bed, happened to be his favourite. Because if you took a breath to ask him what he'd choose, he’d always choose to sleep in the bed you were in.
“To make it up to you, let me buy the other nights. Work covered the two necessary for them, so it hasn’t cost—“
His hand slides over your cheek, face forced to look up at him, blemished with curiosity that relaxes into simmering disbelief.
A look he now suspects is on your face plenty of times when the two of you talk. That disbelief, the one unsure how someone could make you smile, makes you easily relax.
He knows because it’s something he thinks himself. He’s just not sure if his expression looks similar to yours.
“Hermosa, stop apologising—“
“—I can’t ask you to. You already picked me up from the airport—”
“Cariño, please—
“—And you paid for dinner the first night, and—“
“Baby.”
That word does it.
It makes you pause and swallow. Eyes focusing on him.
“Baby, listen to me. I’ve already spent upwards of triple digits falling for you, and I don't care. So, lemme pay for the hotel room so I can show you how far I’ve fallen.”
You're torn. He sees it immediately on your face from the way it ripples across your face.
Some part of you all unwilling to let him. A part he hopes to kiss away as he presses another kiss to your temple, softer, hanging there a second longer until he pulls back.
“I’ve got this, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper. “But, I’ll buy—“
He kisses you.
Realising as he does, it’s the only way to silence you. Feeling you melt, then you smile, before your fingers come up along his neck, little touches, and then nails, before you pull back.
“You should… pay for the room now,” you say, lips twitching, a smirk wishing to bloom.
“That so?”
Nodding, you bite your lower lip. “I know you saw the things I packed in my suitcase, Javi.”
Tracing his lower lip with his thumb, he smirks, slowly—before nodding.
Turning to face the desk, he presses the bell once, twice, thrice—all insistent as you snigger by his side. He’s about to press it again, almost shouting to call someone, when he feels you nudge him—moving closer, arm coming around his waist as he feels his cheeks warm as you stare up at him.
Fuck, you’re beautiful.
“I’m taking you out tonight, too. Just so you know.”
Narrowing your eyes, you give him a lopsided smile as you swallow. “Can I pay half?”
“You can argue with me about it. Yeah,” he says, kissing your forehead before hammering his palm on the bell all over again.
an: thank you for all the love on this, i can't even put into words how much i appreciate it and you. this chapter i was dreading, as it sets up so much for the next, but i hope it was worth it, as always xx
A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.
Though I Have Never Read It Masterlist
You had slept wretchedly but still dragged yourself out of bed to go to the farmer's market. It was a sunny Saturday that made your head ache as you moved into the common room with all its windows. You go to grab a coffee and turn the corner into the kitchen to see Wanda making herself some tea.
"Hey," you say, "did you want to go to the market?"
"Oh, not this morning," Wanda says in a raspy voice, "I'm not feeling very well."
"Oh, no! I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can get for you?"
"Would you mind if I used some of your honey?"
"Yeah. Here, let me get it for you," you rush to the cabinet as if she might expire if you don't get it to her quickly enough.
"You're so sweet," Wanda smiles wanly.
"Get some rest, okay?" You urge.
"I will. Have fun at the market," Wanda adds the honey to her tea and gives a small wave as she heads back to her room.
You make yourself a cup of coffee and then go to the elevator to head down. Pressing the button, you get lost in thought about the talk with Bucky the night before. Your heart had wrenched when you realized he thought he had hurt you. His face had betrayed his fear and regret and all you had wanted to do was console him. You had pulled him close, partly to show him you had no fear of him, but mostly to be sure he heard and understood each word you spoke. His face had softened as you spoke and the look in his eyes had made your heart cry out for him. The tension as you’d stared into him was intense. You had wanted to pull him to you, you’d wanted to relive that night with him in your arms, but then your stomach had clenched at the emotions running through you and he gave you the perfect out to break away. Your fear of your own emotions, of trusting yourself to really care for someone, had forced you to hold him at arm’s length.
The elevator ding and the swoosh of the doors opening broke you out of your musings. Looking up, you come face to face with Bucky.
“Hey doll. What are you up to?”
"Oh, hey, hi. I was, um, heading to the farmer's market at the park. You?" You join him in the elevator.
"Nothing. I'd love to see the farmer's market. I've never been."
You quirk an eyebrow at him after you glance at the panel, "Is that why the button for the gym floor is lit up?"
"Um, yeah," Bucky says, sheepishly, "but the market sounds like more fun."
You laugh at his adorable expression. He really is so sweet. You wonder if your fears about him are irrational. You just don't want him to see you as the coward he found sniveling in that cabin and truthfully, you were scared of yourself at times. The truth was you had embraced Zeke’s attention. In the beginning, he had made you feel safe and cared for. It wasn’t until later that you realized how much of your freedom you had given up willingly. It had happened so slowly, so gradually, that you hadn't realized how you had let Zeke become the center of your world. If it hadn’t been for your friends, especially your best friend, you may have still been under his thumb. Even so, it had taken him saying he owned you to wake you out of the trance you had been walking in. Then you had hidden yourself away in the middle of nowhere and cowered, waiting for him to find you and drag you back. It wasn’t until Bucky showed up at the cabin that you had actually taken some control of your life. That night you had shed some of the weight of the past and found it in yourself to go back and fight. Bucky had, in some ways, saved you from yourself. He sees you as a kind stranger who had hidden herself away from the world but you want him to see you for who you are now. A survivor, intelligent, fierce, …but most of all, real. Not a dream or a hazy memory from one night. Maybe you should give him the chance.
"I really enjoy it. It's kind of a Saturday morning tradition for me. Eva loves going when I have her. I’ve even gotten Wanda to go with me. Well, really it was Eva who got her to go.”
“That sounds like Eva,” Bucky chuckles.
You laugh with him, “She certainly isn’t shy.”
“Are you looking for anything specific at the market?”
“Just whatever catches my eye. Usually I get some vegetables to make meals for the week,” you exit the elevator and head to the front door.
“You’re a good cook. Steve and I haven’t stopped talking about the sausage and cabbage you made,” Bucky grins.
You scoff lightly, “I’m decent at cooking, but thank you, I’m glad you liked it. I’ll have to make it again soon.”
“That would be really nice,” Bucky smiles at you.
Something about the way he looks at you makes butterflies burst to life in your stomach. You smile back and duck your head before he can see your emotions written on your face. The market was buzzing with patrons as you showed Bucky around. It was nice spending time with him. Over the next week, you found yourselves together more and more often. He was easy to talk to, funny, and smart. When the next Saturday rolled around, he joined you, Eva, a fully recovered Wanda, and Natasha, who had heard about the market during dinner one night, for the trip. By the next Saturday, Steve and Sam had decided to join the group for the outing. It was almost jovial and you had really begun to feel like, not only a vital part of the team, but a part of this group of friends. It was wonderful.
You didn’t know if it was because of the reluctance you had shown previously or if he harbored some of the same fears you had held, but Bucky had kept his physical distance. A friendship had grown but he never attempted anything romantic or made any overtures. You were relieved, most of the time, but there were times you would glance in his eyes or watch his mouth that you found yourself feeling a yearning that he would. You had considered that perhaps he had decided friendship was all that he wanted but that thought wasn’t without a bite of dissapointment.
Truthfully, the more you got to know the man, the more you were falling for him. Not the fantasy of the man in the cabin, but the reality of the man in front of you. You were comfortable with him in ways you’d never been with anyone else. At least, not since your best friend had passed. The realization prompted you to find a way to let him know that while also hoping you could discern if he felt the same.
That Sunday night, Bucky knocked on your door to return a book he had borrowed and you two were talking as you put it on its shelf. Grabbing the next book he had mentioned he wanted to read, you turn back to see a soft smile spread across his face.
“What?” You ask as he continues to look at you with a sweet expression.
“Nothing,” Bucky says.
You narrow your eyes at him and smirk, “Whaaaaaat?”
“Really, it’s nothing. Just…” Bucky trails off.
“Just what?” You prompt.
“I didn’t even have to ask you for the book. You just knew,” Bucky shrugs sheepishly.
“Yeah, it’s this crazy thing called listening when people talk. You said last week you wanted to read this,” you smile.
“But you remembered,” Bucky says softly.
“Yeah,” you shrug, trying to hide your emotions. You felt like crying for some reason.
“Thank you,” Bucky whispers.
“Actually, I… I wanted to thank you.”
“For what?” Bucky asks.
“For building this friendship with me. For getting to know me. The real me. The person I am now, not the person you met years ago in that cabin. I was… I was worried that you would only ever see me as that scared woman and I appreciate that you’ve gotten to know the real me,” you look him in the eyes, trying to gauge his response.
Slowly, a smile spread across Bucky’s face. “I did, too. I mean, I wanted us to get to know each other, who we are now. I appreciate that you finally opened up to me, that we became friends before…” Bucky trails off and looks away as if embarrassed.
Your heart was racing and your voice trembled as you prompted him, “Before?”
Bucky looks deep into your eyes before exhaling a long breath, “Before I-”
Your cellphone rings, making you jump. Glancing at your phone, you see Mark’s name on the screen. Since Mark returned from his trip, he had been calling more often. You chalked it up to him being sad about his relationship ending and needing a friend. The day after the dinner he checked in with you about your chat with Bucky, since then he called at least every other day when before it was once or twice a week. It concerned you though, that he was calling you for a second time today and knowing that Eva wasn’t feeling well, you know you can't ignore the call. You glance up at Bucky, “I’m sorry. I need to take this. Eva’s sick. She might need something.”
“Yeah, of course,” Bucky takes a few steps back to allow you space.
“Hey Ma-”
“She had a seizure,” the frantic voice coming through the phone wasn’t like Mark at all.
“What?” You cry.
“Eva had a seizure. I didn’t want to wait for an ambulance. I’m taking her to the hospital now.”
“I’m on my way. What happened?” you asked, grabbing your things.
“She kept saying her head hurt and she was running a fever. I gave her tylenol but the fever wasn’t going down. She just started seizing. I don’t know, I don’t know,” Mark’s voice breaks when you hear him speaking to Eva. “Hang on, Evey, hang on. We’re almost there. Daddy’s got you.”
“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” you say.
“We’re here. I’ll call you back,” Mark hangs up.
“Shit, shit!” You scramble to find your keys while tears gather in your eyes.
“What’s the matter?” Bucky asks, shocking you out of your panic for a second.
“Eva’s sick. Had a seizure. I’ve gotta go,” you stammer, running to the door.
“Hey, hey. Let me take you. You’re in no state to drive,” Bucky says as he jogs alongside you.
“You don’t have to do that,” you shake your head.
“I know but I’m offering. We can take my motorcycle. It’ll be faster to get through the city,” Bucky says convincingly.
“Okay, okay,” you follow him downstairs.
“Let’s take this one. It’s fastest,” Bucky leads you to the Kawasaki H2R, passing up his Harley.
He was right. The motorcycle speed was insane as he careened through the streets of New York but you never felt a modicum of fear. Whether it was the adrenaline running through your veins demanding you get to Eva or your utter trust in Bucky, you never even flinched as he pulled stunts that most would consider reckless but you knew the supersoldier was more than capable. You arrived at the hospital in record time.
Jumping off the bike, you turn back to Bucky, “Thank you. I’ll let you know something as soon as I do.”
“I can wait,” Bucky reassures you.
“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you again, Bucky,” you turn and run into the facility. With the tracking app on your phone, you were able to find Mark quickly. He was sitting in a room with an unconscious Eva laying on the bed. She looked so much smaller than her six years with an oxygen mask covering her face and all the medical equipment crowded around the bed. Your gut clenched seeing your baby girl like that. Your voice breaks as you say her name and Mark is up, wrapping you in a hug.
“She’s okay. She’s gonna be okay. She has to be, right?” He whispers.
“Have they said anything?”
“They think it was just a febrile seizure but they are running a bunch of tests. She fell asleep as soon as the room quieted down.”
“Okay, okay. That’s good. Did anything else happen today?” You ask.
“No. She complained of a headache a lot, like I told you. After a while, I took her temp, it was 101.5. I gave her some medicine to help. She went to bed, woke up crying and yelling for me. I went into the room, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she started seizing. I turned her over, waited for it to end and then grabbed her and ran to the car. You know how it is here. Sometimes it's just faster to get in the car than it is to call an ambulance.”
“You did your best. She’s gonna be fine,” you reassure him.
You guided him back to the chairs and sat next to him. After a few minutes, his hand found yours and you sat with them clasped for nearly an hour before a nurse bustled in.
“What’s that?” You ask as you watch him hang a bag and connect it to Eva’s IV.
“Antibiotics. The doctor will be in shortly,” he says curtly before hurrying out again.
It was another two hours before the doctor stepped into the room, looking exhausted herself. She rubs a hand over her face before beginning, “I’m sorry it took so long to get to you. I was pulled into an emergency surgery.”
Mark seethes, “We’ve been waiting-”
You stop him with a hand on his arm and a slight shake of your head. Turning back to the doctor, you say, “It’s fine. What’s going on with Eva?”
“The seizure was a blessing in disguise. She has bacterial meningitis. If you hadn’t brought her in, she could have been in real danger. Has she had a cold or ear infection?” She looks between the two.
You look over at Mark as he answers, “Uh, yeah. She had an inner ear infection but it wasn’t bad.”
The doctor nods her head, “That’s probably where it came from. We are working on getting her a room. She needs to be monitored until we’re sure she’s on the mend.”
“So, she’s going to be okay?” Mark asks, shakily.
“She’s gonna be fine. That seizure and your quick response probably saved her life,” the doctor reassured him kindly before taking her leave.
“She’s gonna be okay,” Mark sobs. Sitting in his chair again, he puts his elbows on his knees as he breaks down in tears, repeating the words as a mantra.
Kneeling in front of him, you wrap your arms around him, “Yes, yes, she’s gonna be okay.”
You hold onto each other until the rush of relief passes. Separating, you manage to smile at him.
“Thank you,” he whispers, “thank you for loving her as much as I do. I couldn’t do this without you.”
“I’ll always be here. For her and for you,” you hug him again.
Mark nods and stares at his little girl, willing her to get better. Once things settle down, you text Bucky to let him know what was happening and then Tony to inform him you would need to be out of the office until Eva was better. Without fail, both replied offering their sympathies and asking if there was anything they could do. You were grateful to them and the rest of the team who continuously checked in over the week of Eva’s hospital stay, sent food, and made sure the room always had fresh flowers. They continued even once you and Mark had taken Eva home. You stayed with them, unwilling to leave Eva until she was completely recovered.
Eleven days after that terrifying call, you wake up in Mark’s bed. Heat radiated against your back and you couldn’t help but chuckle, “You just can’t stay on your side of the bed, can you?”
Your question was met with soft snores and you turned over to watch Eva sleep for a minute. Slipping out of bed, you head to the kitchen to start some coffee. Mark had beaten you to it and smiled as he grabbed a second mug out of the cabinet for you.
“How’d you sleep?” He asks.
“Fine. Woke with the human heating pad pressed against me. How about you in your tiny bed?” You laugh. Mark had slept in Eva’s bed that night.
“Not too bad for having feet dangling off the end of the bed all night,” Mark laughs.
You nod with a smile as you take your first sip of coffee. After a few moments of companionable silence, you take a deep breath and say, “I really should give you your bed back. It’s probably time for me to go home. Eva’s better now.”
“You can stay as long as you want,” Mark says wistfully.
“Thank you but it’s time,” you reassure him.
“Well, before you go. There’s something I want to talk to you about,” Mark looks at you intently.
“What?” you ask curiously.
“Us.”
Part 9
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