Beware everyone, this poor excuse of a guy (rollo!st) sends unsollicited nudes to people.
When called out, doesnât even acknowledge heâs in the wrong.
Be careful my sisters đ«¶đ»đȘ
(And choose the bear)
Three Goblin Art
Jules of Nature
h
hello vonnie
taylor price
No title available

Discoholic đȘ©

Kiana Khansmith
Stranger Things
art blog(derogatory)
Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă

â
Keni
i don't do bad sauce passes
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
wallacepolsom
No title available
đȘŒ

blake kathryn

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Pakistan

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from Pakistan
@intimacywithceline
Beware everyone, this poor excuse of a guy (rollo!st) sends unsollicited nudes to people.
When called out, doesnât even acknowledge heâs in the wrong.
Be careful my sisters đ«¶đ»đȘ
(And choose the bear)
hey so I am going to pass tf out
In The Woods
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Rating: NSFW
Word Count: 8,769
Warnings: Smut, excessive camping details (not sorry), felatio, teasing, idiots to lovers, and Bucky being a whole slut.
Listening to: Love You Madly by Cake
Summary: You like camping and Bucky does not understand why, so he tags along on your next trip.
Author's Note: THIS IS A REPOST. And it's my work, I can do what I want with it. So, if this is giving you that deja vu feeling, it's because I posted this on 01/23/23 at 5:30pm CST. only time I'm warning about that.. if I do another.. we're calling it a Repost Party. LFG.
Shaking your head as you swallowed the mouthful of cheap red wine, you finally were able to say, âYou are so fucking wrong.â
âCamping is boring and miserable,â Bucky said with a shrug, then glared at you, âDoesnât matter how you try to dress it up; not having access to a toilet just isnât how I spend my downtime.â
âOkay, first: gross,â you say as you set the now empty glass down. You lean forward and wave at the bartender before turning back to Bucky and explaining, âYour only experience was in the dark ages or during Dubya-Dubya two. Neither of which is what I do, and I have a great time, even without indoor plumbing.â
By the time you were leaving the bar and heading back to the compound, Bucky was going to be joining you on your next solo camping trip. You werenât quite sure how this happened, but it is what it is.Â
You really did love camping and went as often as you could, usually on solo trips. Getting away from the compound and all the nonsense it involved was a necessity. If you could, youâd live in the woods, but you didnât have that option yet. Your big dream was building your own cabin, and you knew youâd get to that eventually as long as you didnât die on a mission. For now, going out to the land that Tony let you use every couple of weeks was enough to take the edge off and make the superhero nonsense worth it.Â
đ
Stiffly sitting in the passenger seat, Bucky was nervous. Heâd seen how little youâd packed, the majority of which was food, and didnât think heâd be able to endure a whole weekend in the middle of the woods. Sleeping on the ground wouldnât be an issue, but he didnât know how you managed to get everything you needed into such a small backpack.Â
The loud music that you were singing along to wasnât bad, though. Plus, you had packed enough alcohol for both of you to drink, even getting some Asgardian stuff from Thor so Bucky could âproperly enjoy campingâ, as you put it. He wasnât even sure how this had started, but heâd agreed, and it was too late to go back now.
You tapped the steering wheel, dancing a little in your seat. Bucky had never seen you like this, and it was why he was nervous. You always seemed to be in a better mood when you came back from these trips, but not like the giddy creature sitting next to him currently speeding down the highway.Â
He didnât mind; if anything, he liked seeing a new side to you after working with you for so long, but it had him worrying about screwing this up or making it weird. On the very unlikely chance that he enjoyed this, he didnât want to make it, so he couldnât come again. Not as often as you went, but maybe a couple of times in the summer would be nice, assuming that camping with you wasnât as awful as his other experiences.Â
Toward the end of the drive, you pulled off to take him to your usual lunch spot: some sketchy-looking drive-in on the side of the almost deserted highway. Bucky didnât realize drive-ins were still a thing or that youâd insist on going.Â
âWhat do you want?â you asked, grinning as you turned down the music for the first time since starting the trip.Â
Bucky shrugged, âA couple burgers? Doesnât look like they have much else.â
Ordering enough food to feed two super soldiers, even though Bucky was the only one in the car, he was taken aback by how quickly you ate. Finishing two cheeseburgers and your own bag of fries before him, you were back on the road, still happily sipping on the strawberry shake youâd ordered.Â
Bucky had anticipated trying to make small talk or gossiping, but you didnât seem interested in that. The first time youâd spoken to him since gassing up the car was asking what he wanted for lunch, almost four hours into the trip. His expectations had been tossed aside as he tried to enjoy the music and not have to force conversation.Â
đ
Pulling off the dirt road and parking the car, you turned to Bucky and smiled as you killed the engine and got out. You didnât bother locking the doors; no one else was around out here. Tony had a house a couple of miles south, but you stayed far away from that. No need to give Morgan ideas about the fort you were building. Maybe when she got a little older, Tony would let you take her out and build one of her own. That was how you learned all this stuff, and you had been going camping with your family since you were able to walk.
You connected one of your earbuds, popped it in your ear, and pulled open the hatch on the back of your car. Shouldering your backpack, you left the food in the back of the car since it was cool outside and started walking to a spot that would work for the tent. You didnât want to freak Bucky out by making him sleep outside without a tent, even if heâd slept in worse places. Better to make this as user-friendly as you can for his first time camping for fun.Â
âWhatâs the plan?â Bucky asked as he walked a little ahead of you.Â
He sounded uncomfortable and was walking too fast. Nothing about being out here was about moving that fast. You had to run around like an idiot and jump off buildings to earn a paycheck, so you had no intention of moving faster than a casual stroll until you were back at work.Â
You sighed before you said, âNo plan, really. Need to get the things setup; then Iâm going to go work on my fort.â
It didnât take long to set up the tent, even with Bucky trying to take over. Any time he would reach to grab one of the rods or a stake, you let him have it. If he wanted to rush through things, that was his problem. Eventually, heâd see that it was about enjoying the process and not getting as much done as possible. You werenât interested in mindfulness or living in the moment, but you did like moving at a more natural pace and not being shot at.Â
Once the tent was done, Bucky looked over at you like he was awaiting orders. He brushed his hands off on his pants before he asked, âWhat next?â
You zipped the tent up after grabbing the gear youâd need: your ax, pocket knife, folding saw, and a bundle of cord. With your eyebrows raised, you walked past him and patted his shoulder, âWhatever you want, big boy.â
He turned but didnât follow you as he asked more silly questions, âWhere are you going?â
âFort time!â you shouted, holding your ax over your head as you walked into the woods, putting your other earbud in.
Your fort was less than 200 feet from where youâd set up camp, but you did need to do some maintenance before picking what to work on first. A few of the supports were loose, and you needed to be cautious about how much of the cord you used. You had certain rules about fort building and camping that youâd picked up from your dad, namely: only bring what you need, no going back for extra, donât leave nature worse than before you were there, and donât cut down any trees if you can avoid it.
By the time you got the maintenance done, you were looking for deadfall and not finding much. Making larger and larger circles around your fort, you were getting worried. It was fall, and you never used every dead tree. Other animals and plants in the woods needed the deadfall, and it was important to leave some behind.Â
You had planned on redoing the roof this weekend, but that wasnât going to happen now. Confused, you walked back to where youâd set up camp and saw something you hadnât expected. The closer you got, the more interested you were: Bucky was chopping wood.Â
Pulling your earbuds out, you popped them in the case and then shoved them in your pocket as the disappearing deadfall mystery was quickly solved. You stopped near Bucky and watched as he split the last long piece in half. Not going to be working on your fort at all this time or for a while.
As he bent to pull one half over the spot heâd chosen to use as a chopping block, he finally noticed you. Standing up and nodding at you, he said, âFigured youâd be at your treehouse for a while.â
âItâs a fort, and, uhâŠ.â you didnât want to discourage him but werenât sure how to explain that heâd completely stripped a rather large area of an important resource. Exhaling sharply, you tried to think of how your dad would have handled this.Â
Bucky looked concerned as he asked, âSomething wrong?â
âNo, not really, justââ you sighed. He wasnât going to be coming out here again anyway. No point in raining on his parade since it wasn't the end of the world. Shaking your head, you said, âItâs nothing, just finished sooner than I thought.â
âThatâs good,â he said, and you could see him getting ready to ask another question.Â
Cutting him off, you put your sharp and pointy things away except for your pocket knife and said, âIâm gonna go out on the lake for a while.â
Bucky gave up on being a lumberjack, slamming your larger ax into a log before following you, âItâs too cold to go swimming, isnât it?â
âNot going swimming,â you said, pointing at the shed Tony had let you put up out here, âCanoe.â
âOh. Have fun,â Bucky said, sounding less than pleased as you walked away again.Â
Bucky had insisted that he knew how to do this, and it was pretty obvious he didnât know how to relax. You had even gone as far as listing some different activities for him to do, which he seemed somewhat interested in. You didnât think heâd want to do things together, but maybe youâd been wrong.Â
Shrugging it off, Bucky was a grown-ass man who had proved he was more than capable of asking for what he wanted. You didnât need to coddle him if he didnât have the balls to ask to join you while you looked up. Staring up at the sky, regardless of the time, was the best. If you had your music and something nice to think about, even better.
đ
Bucky stepped on the last rock, pushing it down into the ground as much as he could before taking a seat on one of the larger logs heâd found. Looking out at the lake for at least the hundredth time, he saw your canoe and you lying down in it. He didnât think anything was wrong or that youâd fallen asleep, but he didnât understand why youâd lay in a canoe in the middle of a lake for this long. Maybe he had intruded or ruined something, but you were too polite to say anything.Â
Instead of staring at you, which felt an awful lot like spying or peeping, he started stacking up the wood heâd cut again in a better spot and a little neater this time. If you werenât back when he was done with that, then heâd go down to the shore and see if he could get your attention.Â
Bucky didnât like this. The fresh air and knowing that there wasnât anything out here, but a bunch of squirrels and birds was great and all, but what was he supposed to do? Yes, youâd explained a number of things he could do, and youâd offered to show him some stuff, but heâd turned it all down. He didnât want to encroach on your alone time and thought that was the right decision.Â
Now that he was out here, he could feel how much he was imposing on you. Clearly, coming out here was something you did alone. He didnât even remember how the stupid argument had started or how it led to him stacking old, dead wood in a pile for a second time, but he knew why he did this. Bucky was usually able to ignore his feelings, even though he wasnât supposed to, but being out here with you had him dealing with something he had been avoiding.Â
Itâs the same reason heâd argue with you at the bar or hope he got paired with you on missions. He was too old for any of this and knew that he was not your type. Youâd definitely had eyes for Steve, or you did at one point. Bucky and Steve had always been very different physically. Not that Bucky even bothered getting bent out of shape over this; he was past all that stuff now, even if certain parts of him disagreed with his complacency.Â
Instead of bothering you, he would figure out how to entertain himself. Once you come back, heâd even suggest that you camp how you normally would and just pretend he wasnât there, making this as easy on you as possible. He knew you didnât use a tent; you probably slept in your treehouse, so he could take the tent. If you needed the tent, then he was fine sleeping in the car.Â
By the time you were dragging your canoe on shore and flipping it over, Bucky had made up his mind about how to fix this: heâd leave. You didnât need him here, and he didnât want to force you. At some point tonight, heâd bring up having you call someone to come get him; it was for the best.
đ
Walking back to the tent, you were growing concerned. Bucky was sitting on a log and staring at the small fire heâd made, looking like he was about to cry or throw up; it was hard to tell with him sometimes.Â
As you got closer, he looked up and had a tight, forced smile on his face before going back to the fire. The sun hadnât gone down yet, but if he liked fire, then you werenât going to complain about the nice coal base he was making.
âHowâs it going?â you asked, hoping that he wasnât as miserable as he looked.
Bucky cleared his throat before replying, âGood.â
Lies and slander, you thought as you went to the tent. Kneeling at the entrance, you grabbed your backpack and started digging. Pulling out your basic cooking stuff and the two compact chairs youâd purchased for this trip, you headed back to the fire. You set everything on the ground and started putting the first chair together as you said optimistically, âYou got enough wood for a week out here.â
âYeahâŠâ he said as he turned and looked at the impressive stack anxiously.
âItâll get used, no worries,â you said as you finished one chair and moved on to the next. Once you had both done, you picked them up and walked over to Bucky. Tapping the log he was sitting on with your foot, you held a chair out as you asked, âHungry?â
Thankfully he took the chair, and when you pulled out the cooking grate from the pouch, he was curious again. It was almost like being with a kid with all the questions he asked, but when the steaks were brought out, he was back to being a very hungry super soldier.Â
âI donât normally bring this kinda food, but itâs a nice break,â you said as you arranged the coals and put the grate over a good spot.Â
âWhat do you normally eat out here?â he asked, leaning forward and watching as you seasoned both steaks before putting them on the fire.Â
Wiping your hands off on the towel tied to your belt, you shrugged, âDehydrated stuff, like an MRE, or Iâll fish.â
Once he had food in him, Bucky seemed less sullen. You didnât want to pester him about his feelings; you knew better than that. He never came back from therapy in a good mood, and you were far from a psychiatrist. Chatting a little as he kept the fire going, you were mostly silent as the sun started to go down.Â
Slapping your hands on your knees after a long stretch of silence, you leaned forward and asked, âThe sun's finally going down. Do you want the surprise or a drink first?â
He didnât reply right away, narrowing his eyes at you before he said, âNot to be rude, but Iâd rather not have any surprises.â
âSame time, then,â you said cheerily, not letting his perpetual bad mood affect you as you got up to go to the car.Â
It was parked a decent way away from where youâd set things up, but it was a nice walk. You grabbed the two paper bags; one had the alcohol, and the other youâd hidden from Bucky. Even if he was being a grump about this, you still wanted to do the little stuff your parents and friends did. Never anything too crazy, but whenever you had someone new, then what you had in the other bag was necessary, along with alcohol if they were an adult. The first time camping wasnât always pleasant for some people who werenât used to being outside all night, but youâd yet to find someone immune to this particular treat. On your way back, you grabbed a nice stick and debated on whether or not you should tell Bucky about what youâd named the stick.
Handing him the flask of Asgardian liquor, you took out your bottle of wine but put the other paper bag next to your chair away from him. Bucky was watching you closely, and you grinned, âWhat?â
âJust get it over with,â he said, leaning back too hard in the nylon and aluminum chair and making it creak ominously.
âNope, you donât want to enjoy this, so now you can suffer,â you said as you grabbed Pierre, the stick, and started sharpening the tip. Was this a bit much? Yes. Was it also entirely necessary? Absolutely. The look on his face alone made it worth it as you sharpened Pierre.Â
Before he was able to panic about what you might do with a sharpened stick, you were digging in the bag next to you. Pulling out two marshmallows, you couldnât fight the smirk as you stuck them on the pointy end of Pierre. Then you grabbed a graham cracker, snapped it in half, and broke off a piece of chocolate. Setting the almost sâmore on the log youâd been using as a small table before holding the stick over the fire.Â
You could feel his gaze boring into you as he tried to pretend like he wasnât dying to ask what you were doing. It took a few minutes of tense silence before the marshmallows were ready. Adjusting your hold on the stick so you could use the two halves of graham cracker to get all the gooey, toasted marshmallow off, you placed the finished sâmore on the log before starting the process all over again.Â
Once the second one was done, you glanced over at Bucky and giggled. His eyes darted from the sâmore on the log up to your face, and he looked so guilty; it was priceless. You let him sulk as you counted to ten in your head before grabbing your bottle of wine. After taking a long drink, you caved and held out the first sâmore. Heâd had plenty of time to give in, and that wasnât going to happen, so you took pity on him.
When he didnât move, you said, âTry it.â
Still silent, he cautiously took the sâmore and turned it a few times as he studied it before glancing back at you. You were almost halfway done with yours, leaning back as you happily chewed. Bucky brought it to his face to smell it when youâd finished yours. Before making another sâmore for yourself, you got up to grab your Bluetooth speaker from your backpack.Â
Sitting back down, you pulled your phone out and got it set up so you wouldnât have to endure any more of this silence. You didnât normally listen to music when you were out here and loved how quiet it was, but with him, this felt like torture. Any time you started thinking, heâd sigh or adjust in his seat, and your thoughts would be back on him. Letting your mind drift when Bucky was here wouldnât end well. Â
As difficult as Bucky could be, you thought he was still likable. Maybe too likable. You could never pin down what it was about him because it was never the same thing. One day it would be his eyes; the next, his voice when heâd yell at someone or make little grunting noises while running; then, by the afternoon, itâd be his thighs. You didnât try to analyze this, just did your best not to make it weird while you were working and enjoy the view, which had been spectacular today. Today it was his back. Perfectly toned, the shirt heâd worn did nothing to hide what was underneath, and it had been on your mind while you stared at the clouds in the canoe.Â
đ
A couple of hours later and you were probably drunk as you finished giggling through another story. Bucky was considering taking the bottle of wine away from you, but he was feeling the effects of the Asgardian liquor and wanted at least two more sâmores. Making them didnât seem hard, but he wanted the ones you made and didnât think youâd cooperate without your wine.Â
It wasnât lost on him that you didnât bring the steak and sweet things out with you but had done this specifically for him. He knew that trying to get someone to come pick him up had been a bad idea, and he was happy he hadnât done anything other than think about it.Â
âBut the best thingânope, sorry,â you cut yourself off, reaching into the paper bag to grab more marshmallows. Then you added, speaking more to yourself or possibly the marshmallows, âForgot who I was with, and he doesnât need to know about that.â
âJust tell me,â Bucky said, knowing he shouldnât take another sip but did anyway. He didnât get to drink this often and missed this feeling when the sharp edges of reality started getting soft and dull. Screwing the cap back on the flask, he pointed out, âYou told me about the skinny dipping and leeches on some guy's balls. Not sure what you could say that could be worse than that.â
You groaned as you held the marshmallows over the fire, âFine, but you donât get to be weird about it.â
âI didnât do anything,â he said, shaking his head. Bucky wanted to know now because you hadnât had any qualms about telling him anything else once you started talking.Â
Taking a deep breath, you started, âProbably my favorite thing to do when Iâm camping isâŠyeah, I canât tell you. We arenât those kinda friends.â
âYou have to now,â Bucky said, keeping an eye on the marshmallows, so you didnât burn them again, âOtherwise, I wonât go camping with you anymore.â
âYou donât want to be camping now,â you said, carefully turning the stick, so the marshmallows heated up evenly, âAnd after I tell you this, youâll probably want to leave.â
Bucky was getting more curious and not able to hide it like he usually could. Leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, he stared at you and waited.Â
You finished making him another sâmore, then grabbed the half-drunk second bottle of wine. Glaring at him as you uncorked it and took a generous drink, then you jumped right in, âSex in the woods. The first time was in high school. I was camping with some friends, we had some alcohol, and one thing led to anotherâŠ.â
This was worse than the leech story but in a very different way. Bucky needed to adjust how he was sitting, and you kept talking, âItâs the one thing I miss about before being recruited. Just going camping with some friends, getting shit-faced, and absolutely railed against a tree.â
Pointedly staring at the fire and trying to keep his face neutral, Bucky didnât know what to say. He knew that some people on the team had their fun, but even after all the progress heâd made, that was one thing he hadnât rekindled. Taking care of himself when things came up was one thing, but trying to find someone never seemed right, like he didnât deserve it.Â
He also had the same reasons that the others did: dating was impossible. Tony had Pepper, Nat was with Bruce, Thor had Jane, Wanda Vision, Clint was married, and even Steve had found someone, but no one who was still single tried to date civilians. It would never work, and he felt uncomfortable lying about his age.Â
âToo much for you, Buckethead?â you asked, ripping Bucky out of his thoughts.
âWhat did youâno, just donât have anything to add to the conversation,â he said, hoping he didnât sound as uncomfortable as he felt.Â
Then you gasped, holding your hand over your mouth before saying in a scandalized voice, âYouâve neverââ
âI have!â he shouted, realizing that he needed to end this before it got worse. Leaning toward you, he said in a carefully controlled voice, âJust not like that.â
You thought for a moment before you hesitantly said, âBut, youâve done it since⊠you know, coming back.â
âItâs none of your business, but no, I havenât,â he said, not sure why he offered that information.Â
âWhy not?â you asked, looking offended at the mere idea that someone would refrain from sexual activity after being a human weapon for half a century.
All Bucky did was shake his head and focus on the fire. When he reached to grab a couple more logs, you said, âNothing wrong with it. I guess unless you already have someone, once you're an Avenger, getting laid just isnât an option.â
That had his mind trying to put something together, but he was buzzed and couldnât figure it out right away. Bucky knew that the pieces were all there, but they didnât fit together, and he had no idea what this particular puzzle was supposed to be.Â
He hadnât noticed how long youâd both been quiet until you started talking again, âNot that itâs any of my business, but youâd be surprised how many options you have. Agents alone, itâs staggering.â
Not what he had expected, but he wasnât too drunk to be rude, âCould say the same about you.â
âPfft, no man wants to get manhandled,â you said, and if Bucky wasnât mistaken, there was something like hurt in your voice.Â
The pieces were starting to come together, and he knew that letting you think like this about yourself wasnât right. Adjusting in his chair, sâmore uneaten in his hand, Bucky said, âAmong the agents, maybe, but Iâve heard a few things.â
âYeah, yeah, I know about Steve, and he only said that to be nice,â you said, grabbing the wine again.Â
Bucky knew for a fact that Steve had not been trying to be nice when you were put on the spot at that party a few months ago. Steve had felt awful about not asking you out when Natasha had told your secret.Â
Steve was happy, but Bucky knew that if the two of you were single at the same time, Steve wouldnât hesitate. It wasnât until youâd been asked why you didnât bring a date to that party and Natasha had done what she did that Steve said anything, but this had the final pieces of the puzzle falling into place.Â
âNot just Steve,â Bucky offered cryptically, not sure why he didnât just come out and say what he wanted to say.Â
You seemed to be thinking, scrunching your nose before you asked, âLoki?â
Bucky shrugged; he didnât know much about Loki but wouldnât put it past him if you asked. He registered that he hadnât been the first single person youâd thought of but did his best to keep that to himself. After avoiding even a quick look in your direction, he heard your giggle and started to panic.Â
âNot happening, Buckingham,â you said as you grabbed your phone. The song changed abruptly before you added, âI donât need your charity.â
âCharity?â Bucky asked, but you were standing and picking up your bottle of wine. When you grabbed your phone and the speaker, Bucky was up and said, âYou arenât running off again. Youâve had too muchââ
âYou arenât the boss of me,â you said confidently as you almost dropped your phone. Shoving it in your pocket, you added, âIâm going to the dock and look up.â
đ
You didnât know how long youâd been laying on the dock with Bucky, but you also werenât thinking about time right now. After youâd gotten comfortable, you were enjoying the music, singing along quietly to yourself.Â
âDidnât know you could sing,â Bucky said, but it didnât sound like he was talking to you.Â
âI canât,â you said but went back to it.Â
You couldnât be bothered to care about much right now. Even Bucky following you down here, insisting that he was keeping an eye on you, didnât matter. He didnât lay down right away either, just stood for a little while, but when he did, he was close enough that you could feel his warmth even though he wasnât touching you. It was nice, but you were trying not to think about it.
âWas it just Steve?â Bucky asked; apparently, he was determined not to enjoy this.Â
You didnât know what he was asking, so you answered his question with a question, âJust Steve, what?â
He touched you. Nothing weird, but it still felt weird as he nudged you with his elbow and said, âYou know.â
âOh,â you sighed, and the wine made it seem like a great idea, to be honest, âNo, but I donât really think about that stuff unless, uh⊠yeah.â
Not being able to see his doofy face made this easier to talk about, but it was still not something you wanted to do. You couldnât believe you were actually having this conversation with Bucky.Â
âSame,â he said like you were at a sleepover and enjoying some girl talk. He didnât stop either, adding in an almost wistful tone, âBut sometimesâŠ.â
âSometimes what?â you asked, probably faster than you should have.Â
He chuckled before he answered bashfully, âI dunno. Sometimes things pop into your head⊠um⊠during that.â
You nearly fell off the dock. You sat up and, with a wicked grin, asked, âJames Buchanan Barnes, have you had impure thoughts about one of your teammates?â
He glared up at you and said defiantly, âYeah. So have you, now lose the judgemental tone.â
âWho?â you asked, desperate to find out you werenât above begging, âYou gotta tell me.â You weren't thinking anything other than getting some juicy gossip now. Better than getting your hopes up for no reason.Â
âYou really wanna know?â he asked, not able to look at you as he sat up.Â
Bucky was so close now, even though youâd been closer, just not on a dock, at night, alone. You knew heâd ask you the same thing once he gave it up, and you did not have a good answer. Heâd been the only interest youâd had for a while. The whole thing with Steve, which was strange to have brought up out of nowhere, had just been an excuse. You didnât want to give Nat any good information, so you picked tall, blond, and taken. Steve was nice enough, but he was not Bucky.
Bending his knees and wrapping his arms around them, he was staring straight ahead as he said, âNot sure I should tell you.â
âTease,â you hissed before laying back down. You didnât want to seem like you were actually mad. You were thankful heâd spared your feelings as you added dismissively, âBut suit yourself.â
You had reached for your phone when he leaned over and said, âIs saying âIâd rather show youâ too cheesy orâhmph.â
Not hesitating, the second those four words left his mouth, you were jerking him down to kiss him. It was frigginâ glorious like you were drowning in him. When he pulled back, a strange, almost dazed look on his face, you thought youâd turn into mud and seep through the boards of the dock and dissolve in the lake.Â
He searched your eyes for a moment before he asked, âSo⊠who was yours?â
Heâs an idiot, you thought as you said, âYouâre an idiot.â
âAnd you have terrible taste in men,â he muttered, but he didnât move away.Â
Even in the moonlight, you could see his eyes darting down to your lips. You didnât want to try to figure this out or sort out what youâd do after tonight; you had a better idea. Holding your hand up, you tapped his forehead before slowly dragging your finger down the bridge of his nose to his lips as you said, âI do, but Iâve come to terms with it.â
He spoke as you traced along his jaw, âThis is probably a bad idea.â
âAnd heâs grumpy again,â you sighed after talking to the lake, pushing yourself up and snatching your stuff before turning and walking back to land.Â
You could hear him scrambling to get up and nearly falling into the frigid water, but he didnât, so you kept walking. It didnât take him long to catch up to you, and then he was talking fast, âIâm not grumpy. I just donât want to make working together weird.â
âItâs been weird the whole time,â you point out before stopping. He was a few feet away, and you gave him a thorough once-over before you asked, âWere you lying?â
He looked genuinely stunned, and it took him a moment before he shook his head, âNo, were you?â
âNo,â you replied immediately. Bucky couldnât even look at you, his head turned away, but you werenât backing down as you took a step toward him and asked, âThen whatâs the problem, Buckle?â
It was like he was having an argument with himself, and you were thoroughly entertained by how you could almost tell what he was thinking by his expressions. Closing the distance, you knew nothing was going to come of this, and you just wanted to push him a little further before going back to the fire. Youâd both laugh about this later as you whispered, âCâmon, show me how a girlâs supposed to be treated.â
His face was slack as he slowly turned his head to look at you. A fraction of a second before you were going to shove his shoulder and start laughing this tension off, he grabbed you. His hands kept you in place as he kissed the life out of you. Kissing him again, but this time because he started it, was better. You didnât think dissolving in the lake was a good way to go anymore, but turning into mud on this path would be perfect.Â
Bucky pulled away to take a breath, his hands still on either side of your face as he said, âSteveâs gonna kill me.â
âSteve never stood a chance,â you shot back, enjoying the pained expression on Buckyâs face.Â
Guiding you backward as he spoke, âYou canât say things like that.â
âWhy not?â you asked, grinning up at him.Â
âGivinâ me ideas, doll,â he said as your back hit a tree. He didnât stop moving, though, pressing you against it as he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, âThis isnât going to be just tonight.â
âYeah?â you were practically vibrating with excitement, drinking in every word he said.Â
âOr this trip,â he added, your knees starting to feel weak. He pressed his lips to yours before he asked, âThat work for you?â
All you managed was a dreamy, distant-sounding, âUh huh.â
âYouâre all mine,â Bucky said, barely loud enough for you to hear, but you heard it.Â
You werenât able to reply as he scooped you up. Leaning against the tree as your legs wrapped around his waist, you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you again. His lips parted, and even if this was all that happened, it was easily the best youâd ever had on a camping trip.Â
Your tongue circled his as your hands found the back of his head. He broke the kiss again, but only to start kissing your neck, his stubble only adding to your pleasure. Head falling back against the tree, you couldnât stop yourself from saying, âPlease donât stop.â
Bucky chuckled as he moved a little higher, nipping your earlobe before he said, his voice deeper than youâd ever heard it, âWasnât planning on it. You sold me on this camping stuff.â
âFuck,â you whimpered, pulling his head back to kiss him again before you demanded, âLose the shirt.â
You didnât loosen your legs when his hands left you, leaning against the tree and gripping him with your thighs. Bucky smirked as he pulled his shirt off and tossed it behind him onto the path. When his arms were around you again, you barely noticed he was carrying you. You were too busy running your hands along as much of his back as you could reach, and it was better than youâd imagined in the canoe earlier.Â
Once you noticed you werenât still against a tree, you were pulling your own shirt over your head and dropping it somewhere behind Bucky as he walked. He groaned again, taking his eyes off of the dimly lit path to stare at your sports bra, which had been a mistake.Â
As he tripped, Bucky managed to turn so that he landed on his back instead of you while you unhooked your legs and placed your hands on his chest. It was only a few seconds, but with all the training youâd both had, not getting hurt from falling on the ground was easy.Â
He didnât miss a beat, pulling you down on top of him as soon as he landed. Planting one hand on your ass and the other on the back of your head, but you didnât let him kiss your lips again as you asked, âYou okay?â
âNever been better,â he said against your neck before trailing kisses lower.Â
The hand on the back of your head moved between your shoulder blades, and you couldnât help but giggle. He was pinching and pulling at the back of your sports bra like it would magically open for him when it was a pullover.Â
Pushing yourself up, shaking your head as you pulled it over your head. When you looked down at Bucky he was staring at your tits like he hadnât seen any in a long time, and you realized he probably hadnât seen any in person for maybe seventy years. His appreciative leering was sweet.Â
You took his right hand, lifting it to your lips before wrapping them around his middle finger. His hips lurched as his jaw dropped, but he regained control of himself enough to say, âYou are asking for trouble, doll.â
With a pop, you pulled his finger from his mouth before joking, âKeep calling me that, and Iâll ruin your life.â
âItâs yours to ruin,â he said, pulling you down before he saw your reaction.Â
It was hard to think with him kissing and sucking on your tits, but you still heard what heâd said. All the strange almost-feeling things heâd said were rattling around in your head as his left hand grabbed your ass firmly and his right was teasing your nipple. You tried to shake it off. He couldnât have meant it. Bucky, like Steve, still said weird shit like they were back in the 40s, and you were just going to assume that this was one of those things. It was probably some old-fashioned version of dirty talk. People used to mate for life back then, but he couldnât mean any of this.Â
You arched your back as you adjusted your hips, making sure that he was distracted before you started to move. He moaned against your skin, which helped clear your mind. Taking one of your nipples into his mouth and the hand on your ass moved lower, your eyes fluttered closed. This was better than you imagined.
Grinding against him, you realized one key part was missing from this: his dick. You started moving lower, thinking maybe that was the issue, and still nothing but his jeans. Giggling as you wondered if Bucky needed little blue pills, you wouldnât care if he did; this was more fun than youâd had in a long time.Â
Even if he couldnât get hard, maybe it was psychological, you knew a few ways you could still make sure he felt good. Sitting up, you slid down and knelt between his legs. His head popped up and he looked so confused. With a grin, you kissed the center of his chest, then moved to give him a taste of his own medicine. Some guys felt nothing from this, while others would lose their minds; Bucky was part of the latter group.Â
Sealing your lips and slowly licking around his nipple, you heard him slam his vibranium fist against the ground as he gasped. You sucked hard, and his other hand left your shoulder to rip at the grass. Since you were only getting positive feedback, you decided to push your luck and gently tug with your teeth. Buckyâs back arched as he let out a shuddering moan.Â
âYou are too much fun,â you whisper before pressing your lips a little lower.Â
He was panting as you kissed lower, then he asked, âWhere do ya think your goinâ?â
âDonât worry about it,â you reply, your hands already on his pants.Â
Making quick work of the button fly, you gently kissed just above the band of his boxer briefs. Buckyâs hands were pressed against his forehead, then he gasped and lifted his head. He got up on his elbows as you jerked at his jeans, and he was smirking at you.Â
He raised his hips, making it easier for you to get up on your knees to pull his jeans off, but you were distracted almost immediately. Buckyâs pants, barely halfway down his thighs, stopped moving as you understood why you hadnât felt anything. It was like a present for being cool if his dick didnât work, and you rarely got to enjoy good karma.Â
âSomething wrong, doll?â Bucky asked, and you remembered that he was there.Â
Looking up with wide eyes, you shook your head and tried to say two things at once but managed to jumble them, âNothingâs goodâfuck, I mean, Iâm good, nothingâs wrong.â You shot him a big smile, but he was worried now.Â
He pushed himself up, grabbing your hands before you could finish unleashing the beast, and he said so gently, âWe donât have toââ
âI am keenly aware of what I want to do, James,â you cut him off, and in a moment of unhealthy hubris, you also grabbed his dick. This was meant to prove your point, but it was ruined when you realized it was too thick to get your hand around, and you hissed, âFucking hellâŠ.â
Bucky tensed up the second you touched him and said in a strained voice, âYouâre in⊠charge, so⊠donâtâoh, damnit, donâtworryaboutme.â
All your life, youâd made a point of doing things for other people, and not because you were supposed to or some misguided idea about wanting to be a good person; you enjoyed making people happy. As you tried to wrap your head around this situation, like your hand around his cock, you couldnât resist this as an idea started to form in your head, and you ran with it.Â
You loosened your grip before starting to stroke him gently over his boxer briefs. Buckyâs hands were in the dirt again, which meant he wasnât touching you any time soon, so why not play with him a little? Leaning close, you ran your nose along the shell of his ear as you asked, âIâm in charge?â
He nodded vigorously as he muttered, âWhatever you want.â
âWhatever I wantâŠ.â you repeated his words as your hand ran over his length, and he moaned again. You kissed him just below his ear before you whispered, âI think Iâd rather show you what I want.âÂ
He gasped when you shoved at his chest but fell backward like a sack of potatoes. You didnât bother trying to get his pants off now, they werenât in your way as you bowed between his legs. Planting your knees further apart, so you didnât feel as bunched up, you pressed your lips to the obscene bulge under the fabric.Â
âFuck,â Bucky gasped.Â
His back arched again as you kissed up his length to the base. Youâd had an idea that he might be packing some serious equipment, but it paled in comparison to how responsive he was to your attention. Youâd barely done anything, and he was breathing harder than he did after running at full speed.Â
Kissing your way back up his shaft, you had your hands on his thighs, squeezing them and feeling the firm muscles underneath. His legs were a recurring favorite for you, and finally, being able to touch them like this was enough to ruin your underwear. Sliding them higher, you pushed your fingertips under the hem of his boxer briefs.Â
You teased the skin there as you said, âTell me what youâd think about.â
âWhat?â he asked, covering his eyes with the heels of his palms.Â
Delving a little further and running a finger over the head of his cock had his rapt attention. In a second, he was propped up on his elbows and torn between what your hand was doing and your face. You didnât mind, he was supposed to enjoy this, but you wondered if you could have your cake and hear it tell you dirty things too.Â
âYou said things would pop into your head sometimes, and I want to know what kind of ideas you had,â you explained, your hand completely inside the leg of his boxer briefs as you continued to barely touch his cock.Â
He shook his head absently as he said, âNothing like this.â
âBetter or worââ
âThis is so much better,â he cut you off, and you giggled at how quickly he spoke.Â
Getting your hand underneath his cock, you wrapped your fingers around it as best you could. Slowly, you started stroking him properly as you asked, âWhat do you like, Bucky?â
He was focused on your hand moving inside his boxer briefs as he answered in barely more than a whisper, âYou⊠just you.â
Well, you hadnât expected that, but you were in too deep now. Not faltering your movement, you pushed your luck as far as you wanted to and said as lightly as you could, âYou really need to stop saying stuff like that.â
As he answered, you started working his full length, and he seemed to lose focus, âCanât help it⊠Oh, shit, you have no idea what you do to me.â
You had a pretty good idea but didnât want to point that out. If he was the type to say a bunch of dramatic shit during, then you just needed to remember it was just words, and he didnât mean it.Â
With your free hand, you pulled the fabric up and wondered if you had died and gone to pretty dick heaven. Angling his cock, you leaned close and swirled your tongue around the head.Â
Bucky made a strangled noise before slapping a hand over his mouth. You looked up to see his panicked expression as he leaned on one elbow. With a wicked grin, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue where the head of his cock flared out before you said, âMake all the noise you want. No oneâs around to hear you but me.â
He shook his head, keeping his mouth covered, and you couldnât help yourself, âBet you make all sorts of fun noises.â
His brow furrowed as you gently took the tip in your mouth again, slipping your tongue in a circle and tasting his precum. You kissed him again before you asked, âIsnât your room soundproof?â
The realization on his face was glorious. He seemed to forget about covering his mouth as his arm fell back to the ground, a knowing smirk on his face. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for a reply, and he didnât disappoint, âThey told me it was.â
You did enjoy his inability to handle anything youâd done to him so far, but the faint hint of a Bucky with control over himself was like something out of one of your fantasies. Dragging your bottom lip between your teeth as you thought about how best to approach this, you arched a brow as you said, âWould be fun to test if it worked.â
âWhaâoh, my God!â Bucky was going to ask you something, but you cut him off, and he ended up shouting.Â
Taking him as far as you could quickly and gagging when he hit the back of your throat abruptly, you werenât able to see what happened, but you could hear it. Bucky hit the ground with a thud, followed by what had to be his fists again slamming into the ground and digging his fingers into it.Â
When youâd done this before, one hand around the bottom was enough but not with Bucky. As you started to bob your head, both hands stroking what you couldnât get into your mouth, you werenât going to stop unless he started making scary sounds.Â
âShiâholy, fuckmewhatâoh, Christââ and on and on he went as he squirmed.Â
His hips mindlessly rutted as he tore at the ground, and his legs flexed around you. It wasnât until he stopped making noise that you knew the fun was probably close to over. Bucky was panting again, grunting with each exhale as his cock got even harder, and you knew he was going to cum soon. Not how you wanted this to go if it happened, but you knew that this wasnât about you right now.Â
Focused on making sure heâd thoroughly enjoy this, you slid one hand lower and cupped his balls, gently at first, just to see how heâd react. When he let out a loud moan, and you felt them tighten, you started to massage them, and Bucky seemed to snap.Â
âI-I-I⊠not like thiâpleasepleasepleaseplea-Ohh fuuuck!â he shouted as his back arched high off the ground.Â
His cock throbbed in your hand and mouth as he came. You took everything he had, surprised that it didnât taste as bad as you remembered cum tasting. All things considered, taking his load in the mouth was one thing but what you did next might have been a bit much.Â
Before youâd been able to pull off, he was up and dragging you off his dick. Bucky cupped your cheeks and kissed your lips. You kept them closed, but he wasnât having it, nearly growling against your lips, âKiss me.â
You did the only logical thing: you swallowed. It made what seemed like a deafening gulping sound, and Bucky pulled back. He had the strangest look on his face, and you tried to lighten the mood by grinning as you asked, âSo⊠you having fun?â
Still staring at you like youâd suddenly turned into a reverse mermaid, where the bottoms are legs, and the top is a fish, you were getting nervous. You placed a hand on his, not hiding the concern in your voice, and asked, âYou okay?â
He shook his head, looking away from you as he took a deep breath. This was an improvement until he nodded and looked at you again before he said, âNext time, donât swallow it.â
đ€đ€đ€
I am burdened with glorious purposeâand will not be taking requests. Thanks for reading!
đ€đ€đ€
Filthy
Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.
See my Masterlist Here
"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.
You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didnât blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.
That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.
You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.
Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.
The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.
One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.
He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.
You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."
Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"
Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.
You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.
"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.
Steve grabbed Buckyâs hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.
Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.
He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.
He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.
You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.
"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.
"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.
His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.
His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.
You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.
He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.
He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.
He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.
His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.
His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.
His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.
He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.
He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.
His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.
You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.
You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.
Tags in the comments! â€ïž
Chokehold
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You have a crush on Bucky and start to bond with him over coffee in the break room, but there's no way he could possibly feel the same way about you... right?
Word Count: Over 11k (yep!)
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected v. sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dirty talk, fluff, longing, minor angst, insecurities, feels, sparring, swearing, confessions, getting together, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)
A/N: I've been sitting on this one (thanks for listening to my back and forth on this @targaryenvampireslayer), and I hope you all enjoy. â€ïž Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by the talented @enchanthings-a. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You fell for Bucky Barnes the moment you met. Something dangerous lurked in his steel blue eyes when you introduced yourself to him, but beneath the surface was pain and loneliness that you wanted to take away. Of course, that could've been you projecting and wanting to justify having a crush on a guy who hadn't spoken a word to you.
âBucky,â was all he said to you, entrancing you with the deep baritone of his voice.
You wished you could say it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but you could count on one hand the number of times he spoke to you in the months that followed. You tried not to take it personally. Maybe he wasn't interested in making new friends since he seemed to stay close to Steve, Sam, and their small group. Or maybe he just didn't see a reason to trust you. Trust likely wasn't easy for him and what reason did he have to open up to you?
âHi!â you exclaimed when Bucky walked into the break room, your echoing voice making you wince. âSorry. I didn't mean to greet you at that decibel.â
âItâs okay,â he said, your eyes on him as he strode to the coffee machine with ease.
Bucky wasn't your friend, but it didn't stop you from greeting him whenever you saw him throughout the building, a warm feeling spreading in your chest every time he acknowledged you with a slight head nod or grunt. That had to mean something since he didn't outright ignore you. Not being his friend also didn't keep you from learning little things about him, like how he took his coffee.
Which you decided to surprise him with today.
âWait! I made you some coffee,â you told him, going to get the mug you had ready for him. âI hope you like it.â
You had a reputation around S.H.I.E.L.D. for being kind to others ever since you joined. You didn't mind that being your signature since you liked putting a bit of kindness out into the world. Besides the tough work you did, your coworkers and teammates fought other battles every day that you knew nothing about. So why not try to lift others up? It costs you nothing.
Being nice, however, had a downside or two. Some thought that kindness was insincere or a weakness. It also didn't get you a lot of dates. Or maybe you didn't pay attention to other guys since you had eyes for one man.
You couldn't get a read on him as you carefully handed it to him. âYou made me coffee?â he asked in disbelief, a soft look in his eyes before he blinked it away.
âYep! With cream and sugar.â
Your smile faltered when he raised an eyebrow and glanced suspiciously at the liquid, like he was trying to assess if something was off with it as you wrung your fingers together. âThis is really for me?â he asked.
You couldn't detect any anger or annoyance in his tone, but you wouldn't say he sounded happy either. Which only made your smile fall more. âYeah. I just, I thought you liked it that way and maybe it would help you kickstart the morning, but I shouldn't have assumed. I'm sorry. And you don't have to drink it. I can just dump it out,â you rambled.
He held the mug a bit closer when you tried to take it away, the steam rising from it as his eyes met yours. It was almost as if the heat melted the ice from his stare. âNot gonna let you dump this out after you went to the trouble of making it for me,â he said, gently blowing on it before he took a sip. You reminded yourself not to whimper when he licked a drop away from his lip, wondering just what else he could do with that tongue. âEspecially since you know how I like it.â
You avoided his gaze, hoping he didn't question why you knew since there was a chance youâd blurt out that you like him and that was the last thing you needed. You owed him some sort of explanation though, right? âWell, weâre both here some mornings and I saw you make it that way,â you said, your brain overanalyzing how that sounded. âNot that I'm watching you or anything like that. I⊠Iâm not a creep.â
Bucky stared with unreadable eyes as you sighed and shook your head. Leave it to you to fumble over your words with your crush. Was that why they called it a crush? Because it crushed your hopes and dreams?
In a small voice, you said, âI was just trying to be nice.â
âItâs a very nice gesture, so thanks,â he said, taking another sip. âI appreciate it.â
Doing your best not to preen like a peacock at the renewed sliver of hope, you released the breath you were holding and nodded. At least he didn't question why you cared enough to remember how he took his coffee. âYouâre welcome,â you said, wishing you could hang around and chat more, but you had work to do and didn't want to smother him. âI hope you have a good day.â
âYou, too,â he said, his eyes on you as you headed toward the door. âMaybe Iâll see you here at the same time tomorrow?â
You came to a stop, your heart thudding as you faced him. âYou⊠want me to make you coffee tomorrow?â
He chuckled before he took another sip. âI meant maybe we would just bump into each other, but I wonât turn down another coffee if youâre offering.â
Of course that was what he meant. âOh. Right. Yeah. Maybe,â you said, backing up and hitting your elbow against the doorframe.
His brows furrowed as you gave him a strained smile. âYou okay?â he asked, your cheeks hot as you rubbed your elbow.
âIâm fine! Enjoy your coffee,â you said, wishing the ground would swallow you up as you bolted from the room.
You were a competent agent. A strong woman on top of your kindness. Why did you have to act like an idiot in front of him? There was no chance youâd see him in the break room after that. It was a shame, too. It was the most he had ever spoken to you.
A higher being either took pity on you or wanted to play a trick on you since you did see Bucky the next day. Not only that, no one else was in the break room. Granted, most people used the main break room since this room was much smaller and on a floor most didn't go to. But how was it possible that you were so lucky?
âMorning, Bucky.â
âMorning.â He hesitated before he took a seat at the same table as you. If you were dreaming, you didnât want anyone to wake you up. âSorry. I should've askedâŠâ
âItâs fine,â you smiled. âYou're welcome to sit with me.â
âThanks.â His cheek twitched and you wondered if it was a nervous tick or something leftover from the hell he endured. âYou know, that coffee yesterday was probably the best Iâve ever had from this place.â
You perked up more. âReally? Wow, thanks. It was nothing,â you smiled, your pulse quickening. Not only was Bucky talking to you again, but he complimented you. It was slightly pathetic how much you enjoyed that. âYou did say you wouldnât turn down another coffee if I offered. Would you like one?â
âSure,â he replied with a smile. He actually smiled at you. It was a good morning. âThanks.â
âYou know, you have a really nice smile,â you complimented him, proud that you said the words without your voice cracking.
âYou think so?â He leaned back in his seat and you tried to move around the room like normal as his gaze followed your movements. âI think it scares some more than my glare does.â
You busied yourself with getting his coffee ready, the urge to defend him rising. âThereâs nothing scary about your smile and anyone who says otherwise can deal with me.â
âThey can deal with you, huh? Awfully kind of you.â His chuckle was so unexpected that you almost dropped the mug. The small talk was unexpected, too, but you weren't about to tell him to stop. âBut youâre so sweet. I donât think Iâve ever seen you glare at anyone.â
âOh, I can have resting bitch face when I want to,â you teased before your heart skipped a beat. He looked at you enough that he hadnât seen you glare at anyone? He thought you were sweet? No, it was probably just an offhand comment. âAnd I wouldnât just glare at anyone to defend you. I can fight, too. Words or fists.â
âYouâd fight for me, too? You really know how to flatter a man.â His gaze warmed before some of the usual strain reappeared, your heart lurching at the sight. âBut you shouldnât have to fight for me.â
You took a seat across from him again once you set the mug down. âWhy not?â
âBecause you just shouldnât.â He shrugged. You recognized that he was closing part of himself off and you weren't about to kick open that door. âIf Iâm being honest, Iâm kind of shocked youâre talking to me.â
âAnd whyâs that?â
He tapped a finger against his mug as he considered his words. âI havenât really said much to you since we met, but youâve still been nice to me. Always saying hi and smiling. And now this,â he said, gesturing to the coffee. âSome people have ulterior motives when they do nice things for no reason, but I don't get that feeling with you.â
âThere are people who have ulterior motives. Youâre right about that,â you agreed. The world could be a dark place with terrible people. âAnd I guess that's one of the reasons I try to lead with kindness. Putting a bit more optimism and joy into the world might not make it change overnight, but it could make a difference to someone.â
âThat makes sense,â he said, his brows pinching. âBut why continue to be nice to me when I've been standoffish with you? I don't think I deserve it.â
You let the words sink in. You expected Bucky would be apprehensive of people in general when his autonomy was taken away from him for so long. Trust couldnât be easy. People had to earn it. What you didn't expect was that he didn't think he deserved your kindness.
âEveryone is different. We all have various personalities and comfort zones. Some people hit it off right away and others don't. Some need a bit more time to open up,â you answered, an earnest smile on your face. âI guess I figured you fell into the latter. Even if you didn't, I wouldn't take it personally or hold it against you. I hope you know that.â
Bucky may have had you in a chokehold, but he didn't owe you a thing.
His shoulders sagged as he let out a breath and you wished you could wrap him up in a hug. âThanks for being so understanding.â He observed you with a thoughtful gaze. âAnd you are right about one thing.â
âWhatâs that?â
âYour kindness made a difference for me yesterday. And youâre really easy to talk to.â He smiled, genuine affection in his eyes as your heart raced. Was it possible to faint while sitting? âI don't usually talk this much anymore.â
âIâm glad it did. You can always talk to me, you know. Iâm happy to listen or even give advice if you want it,â you said sincerely. It meant a lot that he took the time to speak to you today, and if it were up to you heâd only have good things in his life going forward. No one deserved that more than him. âAnd if Iâm ever too much for you, don't be afraid to tell me.â
His brows pinched again. âToo much? How?â he asked, his tone not as light as it was a moment ago.
You tensed, gripping your mug as you mulled over past things you heard from others. âWell, Iâve been told before that Iâm too perky and too optimistic some days. That my kindness is fake and it can get on peopleâs nerves,â you explained carefully, swallowing a little. Yeah, you had a reputation for being kind, but some didnât care for it. âNot that I think you would find me annoying or anything like that. Itâs just how it is for some people.â
âSo because you choose to be nice instead of acting bitter or rude people donât like that?â Bucky looked at you with a mix of confusion and anger. âWhat the fuck is wrong with them?â
You were utterly silent from his reaction. Your heart also fluttered because he seemed upset on your behalf. âSo many things, Iâm sure,â you teased, hoping to make him smile a little. It was nice when he smiled at you. âBut itâs okay. Really. It doesn't change who I am. I'm still going to be me.â
Cheesy, but true. You couldn't control the actions and emotions of others. You knew in your core who you were and you would continue to put that energy out into the world.
His jaw ticked, but he gazed at you with what you guessed was admiration. âKind and steadfast,â he whispered, making your heart swell all over again. âListen. If anyone around here does give you a hard time, will you let me know?â
The determination in his eyes took you aback. He went from hardly speaking to you to opening up a bit and now wanting to look out for you. It was nice, to say the least. âThatâs okay, Bucky. You said I didn't have to fight for you, so you don't have to for me.â
âI want to.â He reached forward and hovered his hand over yours. Before he touched you though, he pulled away. You longed to know what his touch felt like. âPlease?â
You couldn't resist his gaze. âOkay, but only if you let me know if anyone gives you a hard time.â
âYeah. I got a name for you. Sam Wilson,â he deadpanned.
You burst out laughing, covering your mouth so the sound wouldnât echo in the room or bother him. âOh, Sam. Iâll give him a talking to,â you teased, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling.
âI made you laugh,â he pointed out softly, almost in disbelief. It was another moment where you wanted to wrap him up in a hug.
âYeah, you did.â
âWow,â he whispered, smiling before his face fell. âFuck. I have to go.â He went to stand, but paused to look at you. âDo you ever go to the main break room?â
âI prefer this one,â you said, lightly tapping the table. âItâs quieter.â
âMe, too.â He rubbed the back of his neck. âUm, maybe Iâll see you here again tomorrow? Same time?
Warmth spread in your heart at the hope in his eyes. âYeah, Iâll be here.â
Youâd always be there if he asked.
For the next several weeks, seeing Bucky in the small break room became part of your normal morning routine. You made coffee for both of you before you sat together and talked. Some chats were casual, while others went a little deeper. Both ends of the spectrum helped you get to know each other.
He spoke fondly about a cat he found in an alley and took into his home. He named her Alpine and even showed you a photo of her on his phone. It tugged at your heartstrings seeing the ball of white fur curled up in his metal arm. How could it not?
Bucky spoke about Steve and Sam and how they tried to meet up once a week for dinner. They took turns picking the place. It was nice that he had them to lean on. Both men were always friendly toward you, but you noticed they seemed to smile at you even more since you and Bucky started talking. You assumed they were happy that their friend had someone else in his corner.
âSteve is a punk and Sam is worse,â he said once with nothing but affection in his eyes.
He explained that he was in therapy, which he wasn't ashamed of. He had no reason to be. It was a work in progress, building trust not just with the therapist but building trust within himself. He didn't get into specifics regarding what they talked about as it wasn't your business to begin with, though he did casually throw in that he had trouble sleeping some nights. You mentioned that you sometimes wrote your thoughts and feelings down if they got too loud. He told you the next day that he got himself a new notebook to try that out and you had a spring in your step the whole morning.
You didn't talk about anything particularly exciting. You told him that you didn't have a lot of family close by, but loved your job because you got to help people in some capacity. And that you enjoyed reading and watching movies when you stayed at home, but also enjoyed going out with a couple of close friends. Bucky didn't need to know that they loved teasing you about your crush. You mentioned little things, too, like how you needed to go shopping soon for a new sofa and how you hoped to see the new science exhibit at the nearby museum.
The bulk of your conversations took place in the break room, minus occasionally bumping into him around the building which didn't leave much time for chatter. It wasn't a bad thing. It was nice just to talk to him.
And while you didn't think any of the topics you brought up were interesting, Bucky listened intently every time, his eyes on you as he hung on your every word. The attention felt nice. Though you hadn't mustered up the courage to ask him to hang out outside of work, it felt like the two of you were friends because of those mornings together.
Maybe he thought you were friends, too, since he asked one day, âDo you know anything about dating apps?â
You almost spilled his coffee, but quickly recovered and avoided his concerned gaze as you sat down. âUm, no, not much. I havenât really used them. I havenât dated in a few months either,â you answered honestly, hoping your tone didnât sound as bitter as the taste in your mouth. You werenât embarrassed by your romantic status, but your heart sank just the same. âAre you⊠Why are you asking? Just out of curiosity.â It wasnât your business, but it was the first time he brought up anything concerning dating or relationships.
âSam mentioned setting me up and I brushed that off, so he mentioned using a dating app. I donât know.â He shrugged as you hung your head.
Something settled within your chest, a heavy feeling that made it difficult to take a steady breath. But you couldn't feel sorry for yourself. Bucky was kind, good looking, and trying to adjust to a sense of normalcy. Of course heâd want to try dating again and what kind of person would you be if you didn't support him?
âWell, I can help you research some apps if youâd like. See if any may be a good fit?â
âReally? Youâd do that?â he asked softly.
Your eyes drifted up and you did your best to smile. You couldn't let him see that the mere thought of him dating someone else hurt you. It was pathetic. âYeah, I would,â you answered. You refused to let your crush on him stop you from helping him if he wanted to meet someone.
Bucky stared at you for a few seconds and you almost squirmed in your chair. âBut you said you haven't really used them. Why not?â
The unexpected question did make you squirm. You couldn't blurt out that he was one of the reasons. âWell, not to be a downer or anything, but some apps almost seem to set people up for rejection. It just isnât possible to match every single person up. And thereâs also rapid judgment with some based on appearance and it makes it easy to objectify people,â you explained. It was sad, but true. âIt does work for some and Iâm happy for those people, but I don't know. Iâd rather just meet someone andâŠâ
âConnect with them naturally?â he guessed.
âYeah,â you said, a sad smile touching your lips. âIs it wishful thinking to want something like that?â
âI donât think it is at all. In fact, thatâs a good reason why I probably wonât use an app,â he said. You hoped your sigh of relief wasnât audible, but the weight lifting from your shoulders felt palpable. âBesides, what would I say if I tried to set up a profile? âHi, Iâm a previously brainwashed assassin over 100 years oldâ?â
âIt would be a conversation starter,â you teased, the playful banter bringing a warm smile to his face. âAnd I know I brought up rapid judgment, but Iâm sure one look at your profile picture and people would line out the door just to get your attention,â you smiled and gestured to his face, but his gaze dropped, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. âIâm sorry. IâŠâ
He shook his head, and you caught a hint of a smile that made your heart flutter. âNo, itâs⊠Itâs kind of nice to hear that,â he admitted, his gaze drifting away like he was lost in thought. âDating came easy to me years ago and I donât think I really appreciated it back then. The thought of trying again is a little scary.â
His voice was soft, almost reflective, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. You felt a swell of empathy for the weight of his past. âWell, whenever your next date happens? I hope they know how lucky they are,â you said, your heart aching to convey how deserving he was of genuine connection.
You just wished that connection was with you.
The warm smile returned to his face as he gazed at you. âThanks,â he whispered.
Your heart ached in your chest. âAnytime,â you whispered back, quickly standing up before tears pricked your eyes. âI should get to work. Have a good day, okay?â
âOh. You, too.â He looked like he wanted to stop you, but he hung back. It was all in your head anyway. He didn't want to stop you. Why would he?
You wiped your eyes once you were out of the break room. Rushing away was cowardly and you knew it. It was silly, too.
You wondered if the coffee talks would continue once he found his dream girl. Would he tell you about her? Would bile rise to your throat when he sang their praises or smiled a soft smile not reserved for you? You had to stop thinking about it. You couldn't fall apart just because Bucky wasn't yours, and it was something youâd need to come to terms with when he found someone else.
And maybe tomorrow it wouldn't hurt so much.
Bucky looked a little tired when he joined you the next morning, not saying a word. He still offered you a smile. You didn't speak either, but you gave him a small smile in return.
The night before, you wrestled with the idea of telling him how you felt. All you had to do was get the words out. But the words froze in your throat like ice and you kept quiet, both of you sipping your coffee as the seconds passed by.
You almost wanted to fill the void with more chatter, but it didnât feel necessary. The silence was oddly comforting. Silence was also safe. He seemed content just to sit there with you, and you were afraid youâd blurt something out that you couldnât take back.
âDid I do something to upset you yesterday?â he asked suddenly. His gaze was so gentle, yet deep, looking for an answer you couldn't fully give him. âYou rushed out without finishing your coffee, and you always finish your coffee, so I had to have done something.â
Your heart breaks from his words. Rushing off made him think it was his fault, and you never wanted to imply that. âNo, you didn't upset me,â you replied. That was true. Bucky didn't do anything to upset you. It was your own mind and feelings that did that. âI just had work to do.â
He didn't look convinced, and you couldn't blame him. âYou sure?â
âIâm sure.â You put a smile on your face, but you felt terrible. âAnd I don't think you could do anything to upset me.â
âThen you wouldn't mind sparring with me tomorrow morning by any chance, would you?â he asked.
You inhaled, not expecting him to ask you that. âYou want to spar with me?â You discreetly pinched yourself, testing to see if you were dreaming or not. He was asking you to hang out with him outside of the break room. Kind of. âReally?â you added, your heart racing when he nodded.
âYeah. What do you say?â he asked. Oh, it was a bad idea to spar with Bucky Barnes. Not because you couldn't learn from him, but what the hell were you going to do to reign in your sexual frustration? âUnless you're busy.â
âYes!â you blurted out quickly, clearing your throat as you tried to regain some of your composure. You swore his cheek twitched like he was trying not to smile. âI mean, no, I'm not busy. Iâm totally free and I'd love to spar with you,â you said, praying you sounded normal and not like some lovesick woman with an overgrowing crush.
Which was exactly what you were.
But you weren't about to turn down a chance to spar with him. Who in their right mind would? How many times had you imagined him slamming your body against the mats and pinning you down? Both of you breathing heavily, his face shining from the perspiration. You were thankful the super soldier couldn't read minds because now all you could think about was him tearing your clothes away and spearing you open with his cock and-
âOkay then,â he said, finishing his coffee before he took the mug to the sink. âSecond floor gym. Room 2. 6 am.â
â6 am. Iâll be there,â you promised, gazing after him as he walked toward the door. âSee you then, Sergeant.â
His entire body went rigid before he looked back at you, the metal fingers of his left arm twitching. Your heart sank, worried that you said something wrong. Would he take back his offer?
You stood up from the table. âBucky, I-â
An agent walked through the door and bumped Bucky out of the way. At least he tried to. The super soldier didn't budge.
âExcuse me,â Bucky said.
âWatch it,â the agent sneered, bumping his shoulder again. He still didn't budge. âThink you're special because you got some serum in your veins and Rogers wanted to save your ass? Youâre nothing.â
You gasped. You could handle people saying things about you, but people you cared about? It made you see red. How dare this guy say anything like that to Bucky?
âNothing but HYDRAâs little bitch.â
Bucky glared and looked about two seconds away from smacking the guy across the room, but he hung his head after a second and didn't breathe a word. Maybe he didn't want to make a big deal out of it or didn't think it was worth it. You, however, wouldn't put up with it. Not for a second.
âHey! Agent asshole,â you snapped, marching over until you were between Bucky and the agent. âApologize to him.â
The agent cackled at you and you heard Buckyâs metal fingers curl. âApologize? He was in my way.â He reached out a hand to pat your head. âBut itâs kind of cute to see you defending the Winter Soldier. That's-â You grabbed his wrist and twisted it. âOw, fuck!â
âAnd now Iâm in your way,â you said sweetly, twisting a bit more until his knees buckled. âApologize, now.â
âFuck, fuck, Iâm sorry!â he shouted.
Bucky had a look of awe on his face when you looked back at him. âItâs okay,â he said above a whisper.
You released the guy and pointed at the door. âWhatever you need you can get it later,â you said, satisfied when the agent scrambled out the door.
Bucky stared at you when you faced him, silence hanging in the air. âYou okay?â you finally asked. Was twisting the guyâs wrist too much?
âIâŠâ Bucky blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. âYou defended me.â
âWell, yeah. I told you if anyone gave you a hard time they could deal with me,â you smiled. It didn't matter how small the matter was, youâd stick up for him. People like that guy often mistook your kindness for weakness. âAnd what he said was completely out of line.â
âThank you.â His fingers reached out and touched yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. âReally. Thank you.â
âDon't need to thank me,â you said, giddy from his small touch. âAnd, listen, before he rudely interrupted, I was going to ask if it bothered you that I called you Sergeant.â
You thought you saw his fingers twitch again, but he shook his head. âNo. I⊠kind of like hearing that from you.â
âOh.â You dipped your head to hide your smile. âIâll see you tomorrow then? 6 am?â
âYeah, you will,â he said softly, meeting your gaze as you lifted your head again.
âHave a good day then, Sergeant.â
He inhaled sharply. âDonât be late tomorrow,â he gruffly spoke before he left the room without another word, hearts in your eyes as you stayed rooted to the spot.
You mentally jumped for joy from how excited you were. You couldn't keep the smile off your face the rest of the day. Bucky could've asked anyone in the building to spar with him, but he chose you. And he stuck up for you because some guy bumped into you. Now you just had to make sure you wouldn't make a fool of yourself in the morning.
Easy enough, right?
You spent more time than you cared picking out the perfect exercise outfit. It didn't matter what you wore since he only asked you to practice with him. It wasn't like he asked you out on a date. Still, you were hopeful that the matching black set would make him look at least once.
If anything, it was a confidence booster for yourself since you liked how you looked in it.
âConfidence is sexy,â you smiled before you grabbed your bag to go.
You got to the gym in record time, not wanting to be late or keep him waiting. Nodding to a few people on machines before you made it to the second floor, you had to pause and take a breath before you entered Room 2. The air was a bit cooler in the sparring area, which was good considering youâd likely work up a sweat.
Dropping your bag near the door, you nearly jumped when you spotted Bucky a few feet away staring at you. âRight on time,â he said, your throat dry as he nodded to the mat. âI stretched before you got here.â
âHey,â you said, removing your jacket, the zipper loud in the quiet room. You gave him what you hoped was a nice smile when you went to the mat. âShouldn't take me long.â
The Sergeant stood against the wall with his arms crossed as you began to stretch, one foot pressed against it as his eyes slid over to you. Quickly averting your gaze, you tried to concentrate on warming up instead of how good he looked in his workout gear. While his sweatpants hung low on his hips, the dark short sleeved shirt clung to him like a second skin. He had his hair pulled back, too, which only enhanced how bright his eyes looked under the ceiling lights.
You refused to get aroused just from looking at him.
Too. Fucking. Late.
âYou good? You don't seem as chipper as usual,â he said.
âYeah, IâŠâ What were you even going to say? That his mere presence in his current attire made you wet? âI didn't have my coffee before I left, so no caffeine. This might wake me up.â
He didn't seem convinced, but he nodded after a moment. âI know the feeling,â he said with a soft smile. âThanks for joining me so early. And sorry if it threw off your routine.â
âNothing to be sorry for. Morning exercises are good for the mind and body,â you said, standing once you finished stretching. He probably had a full schedule ahead of him. âI have to admit though, just like you were surprised I was nice to you a while back, I'm a little surprised you asked me to spar with you.â
âAnd why is that?â he asked as he approached the mat, all confidence as he took his spot.
Your throat went dry again before you cleared it. âBecause someone like Steve is more evenly matched,â you said. Super soldier to super soldier, you could go for hours. âAnd chances of me beating you are also pretty slim.â
Way to downplay yourself.
âYou nearly brought that agent to his knees yesterday and you didn't break a sweat.â His head tilted a fraction, his eyes carefully taking you in from head to toe. âYou don't think you can take me?â
Your next breath came out in a rush. If you didn't know any better, you would've said he asked that on purpose. Oh, you had imagined Bucky telling you how well you'd take him, but not like this. You'd take what you can get.
âI can take you,â you stated.
You could only describe the look in his eyes as feral as he got into position. âI'm sure you can,â he said, your only warning before he rushed at you.
Blocking Buckyâs hit, you told yourself not to smile and focused on dodging another hit. He had advantages on his side, like his strength with the serum in his veins, but you were determined to show him that you were a worthy opponent. You also knew he wouldn't try to harm you. Anything he threw your way would be to help you improve.
Bucky grinned when he blocked your kick and you almost let it distract you. âI think you're giving me a run for my money,â he said before he performed a back full twisting layout to dodge another kick. Was that the proper term? Whatever it was, the move was more agile than you could comprehend.
âAnd I think youâre showing off,â you teased, extending your leg for a sweep instead. You huffed when he flipped away again. âEither that or Steveâs theatrics have rubbed off on you.â
âDon't tell him that. Wouldn't want him to get a big head,â he winked.
The back and forth went on for a few minutes, your breathing heavier and heart racing. Part of you wondered if he was pulling punches for your sake, but he didn't let up. It was exhilarating. You hoped he asked you to spar with him again.
âTell me something.â Bucky brushed some of the loose hair back with the back of his hand, both of you panting lightly as the motions stopped for a second. âWhy are you single?â
Your eyes widened at the question. âW-What?â you breathed, almost losing your footing as you stepped back. Why would he ask you that and why now?
âYou told me why you don't use dating apps and you want to make a genuine connection, but you haven't mentioned anyone special,â he shrugged, tilting his head when he stepped forward. âYou know you can tell me if thereâs someone you like, right?â
âMaybe we can have this conversation when weâre done sparring?â you suggested. It would give you a chance to collect yourself.
He shook his head. âNo, I think we should have this conversation now, if thatâs okay.â
âI guess. If you insist.â You blocked his swing, barely. âThereâs⊠someone I like, but I donât know if he feels the same way.â
His cheek twitched, like he wasn't expecting that answer. âWho is he? Do I know him?â
That question threw you off a bit more. Why did he want to know who? âYeah. Yeah, you do,â you said.
âIs it Steve? Sam?â he pressed, a hint of anger in his eyes. âSome other agent?â
âNo, no, and no,â you replied, sighing as you dropped your arms. âListen, do we really-â
Bucky swept your legs out from under you. The air left your lungs when your back hit the mat and he settled over you before you could get up, pinning your arms at your side. You tried to twist out of his hold and couldn't even use your thighs to roll him off you since he had those pinned, too.
âYou let your guard down,â he said.
âYep,â you said, the word clipped as you tried to look anywhere but at him. It was impossible. He was everywhere.
âNow this guy you like,â he started with a tilt of his head. He wasn't letting this go, was he? âIf itâs someone I know and he isn't Steve, Sam, or another agent, who is he?â
You bit your lip, wishing you a chance to hide or bolt.
âTell me,â he begged, his eyes staring into yours. âPlease.â
Oh, God. Did he have any clue how you felt? At the very least, could he sense how he affected you by laying on top of you? How hard your nipples were against your top or the wetness that gathered between your thighs?
Now wasn't the time to focus on being horny.
He sighed when you didnât speak. âAnswer this then: Is there even the slightest chance that itâs me?â he asked, the question hanging in the air between you.
âIâŠâ You swallowed hard as he waited patiently for your answer with an expectant gaze. He was so close and the position was too vulnerable, but you had to bite the bullet and tell him the truth. âIt isn't a slight chance. It's one hundred percent you.â
âWhat?â he whispered.
Super soldier hearing, he should've heard you perfectly clear, right? âI like you, Bucky. I care about you. I pretty much have since I met you,â you finished, the quiet admittance making your chest burn.
It was out in the open now and no longer suppressing your feelings was a good thing.
He stared straight into your eyes, your heart picking up a notch. âYou like me?â The weight of him left your thighs, but you couldn't breathe when he settled between them. âAt the risk of sounding like an arrogant prick, are you single because youâve been waiting for me?â
âYes,â you whispered, swallowing again. âAnd you arenât arrogant. Far from it.â
âSo, every morning weâve had coffee together and even before that, you cared about me? And when I brought up the dating app a couple of days ago and you offered to help me, you had feelings for me? And when you defended me?â He tilted his head further when you nodded. âAnd you didn't say anything until now?â It didn't feel like an accusation, but your eyes welled up anyway.
âYes, the whole time. I didn't want to tell you and make things weird if you didn't feel the same way and I would've rather have you as a friend than nothing at all. Iâm sorry. Iâm so sorry,â you rambled as a tear slid from the corner of your eye. You weren't trying to deceive him by keeping your crush on him a secret. âWe are kind of friends, right?â
The two of you hadnât hung out outside of work, but there was something there. At the very least, there was a comradery. After this, who knew if heâd even want to speak to you again.
âI don't want to be your friend,â he said with conviction, your heart shattering. It was like he punched you right in the gut and maybe you deserved that. He smiled softly, something beautifully tragic when you struggled beneath him. Why wasn't he letting you up? âWait, no, no. Thatâs not what I meant.â
You went limp when you couldn't break his hold. âThen what do you mean?!â
âI want to be so much more than that.â
âYouâŠâ the rest of the words died on your lips because what did he say?
A metal finger moved down your cheek, the touch cool against your warm skin as he wiped another tear away. The finger then tipped your chin before his mouth descended on yours. You weren't sure why you expected it to be a rough kiss, but it was anything but. His lips teased yours along with his tongue, coaxing you to open your mouth to his. It was demanding in the gentlest of ways.
It wasn't a rushed kiss either. It was thorough, slow, like he had nowhere else in the world to be. Did he have any idea of the spark he ignited within you? It was something hot, needy, out of control. Fire raced through your veins. You'd go up in flames if he kept kissing you like that. Like you meant something to him.
âI care about you, too,â he whispered. You inhaled sharply when he trailed kisses along your face. âIâve liked you since we met.â
âYou have?â you asked.
âYeah,â he smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth. âI hoped you might feel the same, but Iâm a bit rusty when it comes to this and I couldn't get a read on you when I mentioned the dating app. I figured this approach might be better.â
âWell,â you gasped when you felt something hard pressed against you. âIt worked,â you said. You were glad he took the leap of faith.
âIâll always remember the first time you smiled at me. I won't let anyone take that memory away from me,â he groaned against your skin, your eyes tearing up again. âAnd the way you stuck up for me⊠I donât deserve you. I don't know if I ever will.â
âDon't say that,â you begged when he released your other wrist, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around him. âYou deserve every bit of happiness.â
He smiled as his kisses moved down to your neck and you could only whimper when he licked and sucked over your pulse. âYou're so caring. So good,â he said, rocking his hips forward. The sweet words combined with the sensual movements of his body fueled your desire. You also bit your lip to keep from bursting into tears from his praise. âAnd you're so beautiful, you know that? Inside and out.â
âYou keep talking like that, Iâll keep crying,â you tried to joke.
He lifted his head to wipe another tear away. âHappy tears?â
âVery happy,â you promised, shifting underneath him and brushing his crotch again.
His mouth fell open as his eyes shut. It was one of the sexiest looks you had ever seen. âIf you keep doing that, Iâll embarrass myself,â he said in a strained voice.
âIs that a bad thing?â you smiled innocently.
âMaybe not. I have a quick rebound rate if I do,â he teased, frowning when your smile slipped. âShit, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?â
âIâm fine. You didnât say anything wrong,â you promised, touching his cheek. âI just⊠Am I dreaming?â
His lips touched yours again, You wouldâve melted into the mat if you werenât already underneath him. âYouâre not dreaming,â he whispered. The groan he let out when you moved beneath him again reminded you that he really was settled between your legs. And hard. âI wanted to take you out on a nice date before I even touched you, but I donât know if I can wait. Youâre driving me crazy.â
Well, nothing had happened quite yet. Just a confession of feelings. And some kissing. And grinding.
âYouâre driving me crazy, too, but if you want to stop, I understand,â you said. It didn't have to go further if he didn't want to, especially since it was fast.
His forehead touched yours. âDo you?â
You nearly shouted that you didnât want him to stop, would never want him to stop, but this wasnât just about you. âI donât, but I get it if you do,â you said. You were kind of in a public place and consent went both ways. If he was the slightest bit uncomfortable, you were fine with stopping.
It seemed to be all he needed to hear since he kissed you again, eagerly licking into your mouth. Your heart was still racing out of control, the high from the exercise running through your veins. You wondered if he felt that adrenaline, too. If the confession of your feelings was the water against the dam, admitting that you wanted him physically, too, was the thing to break it.
âItâs just⊠I donâtâŠâ He lifted his head to look around before he smiled. âWait, hold on.â
He pushed himself up, your body cold from the sudden lack of heat. The tent he sported in his pants sent a surge of pride through you as he went as gracefully as he could to the door. Locking it, he went to his bag next and dug out a towel.
âWhat are you doing?â you asked when he came back quickly.
âTrying to be a gentleman,â he smiled, lifting your hips to place the towel underneath. âSorry, the matâs just kind of dirty and I think you deserve a little better than that.â
âYou certainly are a gentleman,â you smiled back.
âThe things I want to do to you are far from gentlemanly,â he said, reaching for the waistband of your pants and peeling them down with your underwear. You were sweaty and gross, but if he didnât care, you wouldnât either. âI wish I could lay you out and kiss every inch of your body.â
âMaybe after I shower,â you teased, both of you chuckling as you helped push his pants and underwear down. Once all was said and done the two of you could talk and figure out a date and him properly taking you to bed, but having him take you then and there was perfect. âOhâŠâ
Words left your mind when you saw his hard and heavy cock. A bead of precum dripped from the head and you wished you could have a taste. There was a good chance heâd split you in half, but it would be worth feeling him for days on end.
âBucky, please,â you begged, opening your legs more as an offering. You didnât care if it made you look desperate for him, which you were. You just hoped it looked enticing.
With blown pupils and a small growl, he shook his head. It was enough to make you want to cry. âI need to stretch you first, sweetheart.â
The term of endearment made you smile even when you argued, âI donât need you to stretch me. I can take it.â
He narrowed his eyes, but gave you a smile, too, as he brought his hand to your scorching heat. âWeâre both desperate for this, but Iâm going to stretch your pretty cunt to make room for my cock. Got it?â
Shivering at his tone, you nodded. âYes, Sergeant,â you answered, biting your lip when you saw his cock twitch. âYou really like me saying that, don't you?â
âYes,â he groaned. Youâd have to keep calling him that in and out of bed then.
He rubbed along your folds slowly, like he was memorizing the feel. Deep down, he was a gentleman. Badly wanting you, but making sure he wouldnât hurt you. What more could you ask for?
âCan I confess something?â he asked gently as the first finger sank into you, gently exploring. Gasping at the welcomed intrusion, you nodded. He could say anything he wanted. âI've imagined you just like this,â he stated, pulling his finger out before pushing it in deeper.
âYou have?â you asked before he pushed a second finger in, both of them curling slightly. It sent sparks of pleasure down your spine.
âIt almost felt wrong because I hadnât even asked you to go out with me, but I couldnât help myself.â His voice was huskier as he pumped his fingers, your hand fisting in his shirt. You throbbed with need, a kind of need you couldnât ever remember feeling. âI wondered what kind of sounds youâd make and how youâd feel around me if you ever let me have you.â
More heat pooled in your core as you spread your legs wider for him.
âMaking such pretty sounds for me already. And your pussy, it feels like heaven. Might even make me see God once I have my cock in you.â He glanced down to watch his fingers slide in and out of your tight passage, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. âFuck, youâre so warm. And tight. And wet,â he continued, an almost cocky smile on his face when his thumb swiped over your clit and drew a small whimper from you. "Guess I havenât completely lost my touch.â
âThat is both hot andâŠâ you had to pause when he added a third finger, making you stretch around the digits. He was going to be the death of you. âIs it bad if Iâm a little jealous because I donât want to think about you touching anyone else?â
Something sparked in his pretty blue eyes. âDoes my girl have a jealous streak?â He slid a fourth finger in, your back arching with a small cry. âIâm flattered, but you have nothing to worry about. Youâre the only one I want.â
Your breaths were shallow from his touch alone, but the sweet words got under your skin. âYou donât have to worry about anyone else either,â you exhaled. He knew you werenât seeing anyone, but you felt the need to assure him. âAnd I like that.â
âLike what?â
Your hand twisted in his shirt more. âThe idea of being your girl,â you managed to answer, your body writhing as he moved his fingers in a beautifully torturous motion. âEnough, Bucky, please.â
âEnough what?â
âIâm stretched. Iâm on the pill. Just⊠put your cock in me, please!â Panting by the end of your begging rant with mist in your eyes, you added, âCan I at least touch you if you wonât fuck me?â
The beautiful bastard had the nerve to laugh when he took his fingers out. âKind and steadfast, even when youâre begging to get fucked,â he said, his eyes slipping shut for a second as he licked the first two fingers clean. âI promise you can touch me later if you let me get a proper taste of your sweet cunt.â
Your cheeks got so hot it shocked you that you didnât catch on fire. âYes, please,â you whispered, the promise of later making you quiver.
The room felt like it was spinning when he stared down at you and licked his fingers again. He kept his eyes on you when he wrapped them around his cock and guided it to your waiting hole. You tried to calm the beating of your heart when he slipped the blunt head in, but you were powerless to do anything but feel as he kept pushing in. You trembled and gripped his shoulders once his hips were flush against yours, throbbing around his thickness already when hadn't started thrusting.
âFuck, youâre perfect,â he gasped, dropping his forehead to yours again as he trembled, too. âI needâŠâ he breathed against your lips. âI just need a second, please.â
âOkay,â you whispered, wondering if he was as overwhelmed as you were. Maybe moreso. You werenât sure exactly how long it had been for him. And being enhanced, you didnât know if the sensations felt different or stronger. You just hoped he felt good. And happy.
His metal hand framed your cheek, so gentle in contrast to the damage he could do with it. âYou okay?â
âYeah,â you smiled, tilting your head up to kiss him. âI can take it,â you promised. Your body had adjusted to his size and now you wanted him to move, to feel all of him.
He finally began to thrust, moaning against your lips. You lifted your hips, trying to take him in more. The hand on your face slid down your body before it moved to your hip, keeping you in place so you could feel him nice and deep. He pulled his cock out almost completely before he thrust back in, making you cry out as you quivered around him. You wanted to soak his cock, consume him the way he was consuming you.
âYouâre taking me so well,â he praised as you bit your lip. âNo, lemme hear those pretty sounds. Câmon,â he said, changing his angle slightly so you moaned loudly. He moaned, too, as he kept thrusting. âThere you go. So beautiful.â
You wanted to scream for him. You also wondered what it would feel like to have his hand around your throat or over your mouth to smother those very sounds if you ever snuck off during work to fool around. There were so many things you wanted to try with him.
âBucky,â you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders as he moved faster. Piercing pleasure built from your core and spread slowly throughout your body. You felt like you couldnât breathe from how good it felt, how he felt.
The intensity in his turbulent eyes was similar to when he listened to you talk in the break room, but with much more heat. Had he looked at you like that all along? âWanna mark you up one day. Let everyone see that youâre my girl,â he grunted, dragging his mouth from your face to your neck. He lightly bit down, smirking when you whined again. âWould you let me?â
âYes,â you moaned, tilting your head to give him more access. Youâd feel so proud to wear his mark. There wouldnât be any shame if people saw or asked because youâd get to say you belonged to Bucky.
âYou feel so fucking good,â he rasped, surging into you over and over, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls with your cries. âSweetheart, Iâm not gonna last.â
The term of endearment again. It had your heart clenching along with your pussy. âNeither am I,â you breathed, bringing his head back to yours. You framed his cheeks, ecstasy close to crashing over you. From the strain in his handsome face, he was on the edge, too. âCome with me? Mark me up inside?â
It was a question and not a demand because you wouldnât demand anything from the man who somehow stole your heart.
Through the pleasure twisting his face, he smiled. âCome with me.â
The heightened pleasure crashing over you was powerful enough that you almost screamed, your walls spasming around him. Shudders wracked your body as your breath ceased, trying to hold his gaze as the heat engulfed you. Your release coated him, just like you wanted it to. And it was only a few more thrusts from him before he tipped over the edge, filling you up in return. You both marked each other in the best possible way.
You laid limp beneath him, both of you panting. Your slick, wet heat still burned around him as released your hips and pushed himself up, a bead of sweat from his skin dripping onto yours. You gazed at each other, something tender passing between you. You wished the moment didn't have to end.
He leaned back down to nuzzle your nose and you couldnât help but giggle breathlessly at the affectionate move. âYou okay?â he asked.
âYeah,â you replied, still dazed. âYou?â
âBetter than okay,â he said, smiling when you tucked some of his hair back. He looked good like this.
âI don't think I can move,â you teased.
âWe have to, sadly,â he sighed, sliding himself from the warmth of your body. You whined at the loss, your hole clenching around nothing as your mixed release seeped onto the towel beneath you. âI know, but in case the next group that uses this room gets here early, I donât want them to see you with your pants down,â he told you as he sat back and looked over you. You took a moment to look over him as well, getting a glance at his glorious thighs. You longed for the chance for you both to truly explore each otherâs bodies. âAnd we could both use a shower.â
You inhaled when he used the clean part of the towel to gently wipe you both down. âMmm. Together?â
He chuckled, helping you pull your underwear and pants back up. His hands lingered on your hips and you were two seconds from shoving the fabric back down. âIf I get you in the shower, we wonât make it to work on time.â
âI donât mind being late.â You tried to lift your arms to help him pull up his pants, too, but he beat you to it. It was a shame he had to cover up. âOr we could call in? I still have a lot of days off to use.â
âYeah? You want to call in?â
âYeah,â you said eagerly. Too eagerly. âMaybe?â
You almost shrank in on yourself when he raised an eyebrow. He told you he cared about you and he sure as hell just fucked you like he craved you, but you didnât want to come across as clingy, especially so soon. The two of you still needed to figure things out.
And what if the things said were just from the heat of the moment? You weren't sure if your heart could take it if he walked away without another thought. He wouldn't do that though, right?
His gaze softened, helping you sit up, his face inches from yours as he rubbed your arms. âHey. Whatâs the matter?â he asked, your heart in your throat when he smiled again. âWas I that bad?â
âNo, not at all. You were amazing, holy shit, and telling you how I feel was long overdue,â you promised, his smile softer. âItâs justâŠâ
His brows pinched. âItâs just what?â
You took a breath. âI've wanted to hear for so long that you had feelings for me, too. And now that itâs really sinking in, I guess I still feel like Iâm dreaming a bit. That none of this happened,â you admitted, placing your hand on his chest. His heart was still beating fast, like yours. âThat tomorrow Iâll just go back to being the girl who has a crush on you and nothing more.â
âWhat?â His face slowly fell. Why did you open your mouth? âNo, that's not going to happen.â
âWe just went from work friends to whatever just transpired, and I donât want it to be too much or too fast for you or for you to regret this,â you blurted out, biting your lip hard. âI don't want to be too much for you,â you added in a whisper. Your insecurity surfaced more as the post-sex haze faded and you wished it hadn't. âIâm sorry. I don't know why Iâm ruining the moment.â
It was stupid. Where had your optimism gone? He told you he cared about you. He gazed at you like you meant something to him. It was everything you wanted, so why were you questioning it?
âYou didn't ruin anything.â
âAre you sure?â you asked softly.
Bucky placed his hand over yours, the other going to the back of your head so you couldn't move away. âIâm sure, now listen to me: Whatever is going on between us isnât too much and you are not too much. You are never too much,â he said with fierceness akin to a growling wolf. âI want you and I want to be with you. I wouldnât joke about that,â he assured you, your lips tugging in a small smile. âI get feeling like it's a dream, believe me, but it isn't. It's real and what just happened was real.â
Hearing him declare his feelings again made your heart soar. âI know you wouldnât joke about that,â you said. He wasnât cruel. He wouldnât toy with your feelings like that. âI just want you to be happy. You know that, right?â
âI do and I am happy,â he said, his eyes full of longing. He experienced so much pain and loss and deserved happiness. âIâve lost so much of my life, so much time, and I don't want to waste another second. So believe me when I say I want you to be my girl.â
A sob threatened to work its way up. âOh, Bucky,â you whispered, your head dipping down before he lifted it back up.
âThat connection youâve talked about wanting, I feel that with you. I trust you. Thatâs why Iâve been able to open up to you. The person who made me coffee and offered me kindness and understanding and just let me be me,â he said, making you smile more. You wished you could wrap each word around your heart. âI want to hold your hand in the break room and kiss you in the halls. I want you today and Iâll want you tomorrow and the day after that. And the only thing I regret from any of this is not asking you to be my girl sooner.â
His words, his stare, his touch, they healed the senseless wound your insecurity put on your heart. âIâm yours.â You surged forward, your lips crashing against his. He sighed before he returned the kiss, likely feeling the same relief you had. You wished you could put into words how much his assurance meant, but you hoped your kiss expressed it. âThank you for both coaxing my feelings out of me and assuring me that you want this.â
âAnytime.â He brushed another kiss across your lips. âYou know how you said you hoped the next person who dated me knew how lucky they were?â he asked. You remembered. âI'm the lucky one because youâre taking a chance on me.â
âYouâre a smooth talker.â You had no clue how you kept the tears at bay. It meant everything that he wanted to be with you. âI think weâre both lucky.â
He smiled at that. âYeah, but I still donât deserve you,â he whispered, kissing you again before you could argue that he was more than worthy. âSo, you want to spend the day with me?â
âYeah, I do. We can go on a day date or just talk some more at my place or yours,â you answered, not feeling the need to hide anymore. âThatâs not too much to ask, is it?â
âSweetheart, you just let me fuck you on a sparring mat. You can ask me for anything you want,â he smirked, catching your face between his hands. âBut this day date doesnât count as the nice date I want to take you on. My girl deserves something special.â
Your heart tightened in your chest, your emotions starting to run high again before you took a calming breath. âThen how about after that shower we call in, go to a cafe, get a cup of coffee, and figure out that date together? Maybe Iâll even convince you that you do deserve me.â
He huffed, taking your hands and helping you both up. Youâd never be able to look at a pair of sweatpants again without thinking of what transpired there. âOkay, but Iâm warning you right now that I probably wonât like the coffee.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause you didnât make it,â he smiled. âMaybe we can check out that science exhibit you mentioned.â
You giggled. He remembered. âThat would be nice,â you said, leaning close when he slipped his arm around you and guided you toward your bag. âYou know, I can make more than just coffee. Just say the word and Iâll cook for you,â you said. Youâd love to cook him a nice meal.
âWord,â he deadpanned.
You giggled again. âLater,â you promised. Youâd make him something special. âDo you think Alpine will like me?â
âSheâll love you,â he promised, giving you a sheepish smile. âI told her all about you. And I think the last few dinners with Steve and Sam all I talked about was you.â
âYou told your cat about me? You're adorable,â you smiled. It was really sweet. âAnd⊠Will Steve and Sam be happy?â They were his friends and you hoped they approved.
âSteve will be thrilled.â He huffed again. âBut Samâs opinion doesn't matter. Fuck him.â
With a teasing smile, you asked, âWait, I thought I was supposed to give Sam a talking to. Are you offering for me to fuck him?â You shrieked when he growled and picked you up, placing you over his shoulder. âBucky!â
âYouâre not fucking anyone but me. Youâre my girl and Iâll mark you up to prove it if I have to,â he said, keeping a firm hand on you as he carried you away. âBut for now, letâs shower before we call in.â
âYes, Sergeant.â
Bucky didnât have to prove anything. He had you in a chokehold from the start and always would. And you were proud to finally be his girl.
Woohoo! You made it! I like to think this reader has bits of Smartie and Mrs. Barnes, and she deserves her man! I know these two will have wonderful times ahead! Love and thanks for reading. â€ïž
Masterlist â Bucky Barnes Masterlist â Ko-Fi
The One That Got Away
Thunderbolts!Ex!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: When Bucky enters the void, he expects his memories as The Winter Soldier to haunt him, or perhaps even death itself, instead, he finds himself face to face with you the night you broke up.
Warnings: SPOILERS for Thunderbolts*, strictly 18+, talk of death & suicidal ideation, mentions of Buckyâs trauma related to Hydra/The Winter Soldier, angst, canon typical violence, reenactment of a breakup, Bucky being a sad boiâąïž
Word count: 3.6k
A/N: so I saw Thunderbolts, can you tell Iâm obsessed?? Banners by @vase-of-lilies
Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library
Stepping into the dark, cavernous void of nothingness, Buckyâs heart thumps rapidly, almost painfully, against his ribcage.
Itâs not that heâs afraid of dying, in fact, during his seventy years as a captive, there were many times he prayed for the dark depths of death to swallow him whole, a sweet relief from the torture. He observed helplessly as crucial parts of himself were assassinated every time he was strapped to that memory suppression machine until after decades he was a fraction of the man who fought against Nazis.
Bucky Barnes knows all too well there are worse fates than death.
So no, heâs not scared that entering this void will be the last breath he takes. Instead, heâs more frightened of what entering it will entail if it doesnât end his life. What kind of purgatory awaits him on the other side.
But Bucky Barnes is also the type of person who would do anything to help a friend. So with a deep, steadying breath, he plants his foot in oblivion.
In the blink of an eye, Buckyâs in familiar surroundings, though the air feels thick and stale, like it hasnât been disturbed in a while. Itâs an environment that brings both a comforting nostalgia that makes him long for a happier time, but also a heavy guilt at the reminder of the events that transpired the last time he was here, believing he would never return.
Has he died? Is this what heaven looks like? The place that felt most like home to him?
Who is he kidding, if there is an afterlife, James Barnes most certainly will be sent straight to hell for all the lives heâs ended, even under mind control.
For the span of a breath nothing changes - no movement, no sounds. Everything is perfectly still, as if he were living in a photograph.
Bucky takes slow steps around the room, observing all the small details of the home that he once shared with the person he valued as being the embodiment of the word safety. Itâs exactly as he remembers when he left three months ago, as if heâs been taken back in time, even though he knows deep down that he isnât physically in this space.
Steve took the infinity stones back to their respective timelines - this canât be a trick with the time stone.
He smooths his hand over the counter in the kitchen he finds himself in, in attempts to ground himself in this new reality. The cool feeling of the marble reminds him vividly of the many nights the two of you shared right here together.
Thereâs a sharp, clenching pang in his stomach as all the memories he had worked so hard to suppress, locked away in the deepest corners of his mind where they couldnât continue to hurt him, come flooding back like a monsoon.
Regret, guilt, sorrow, but most of all love.
There were good ones that were filled with pure happiness, smiles and laughter, tenderness and vulnerability with the one person he knew wouldnât judge his past, first âI love youâsâ, so much devotion that Bucky could barely keep his hands off you, pleasure beyond what he even imagined was possible.
But also the terrible ones, the arguments, raised voices, cold shoulders, nights on the couch, the slow descent into not recognising each other anymore, all which lead to a messy separation which Bucky didnât even want. He wanted to fight for you. He should have fought harder for you.
Then, as if someone had pressed play on a remote, a scene Bucky is intimately familiar with roars to life in front of him and he instantly knows where he is.
Or more precisely when he is.
The night it all ended.
His stomach drops through the floor.
Bucky observes in an out of body experience as his own body unlocks the front door to the apartment as quietly as possible and gently shuts it behind himself. Itâs such a strange sensation seeing himself perform actions he can remember from a different perspective, recalling his motives for every action.
He was sure by the time he got home from Capitol Hill youâd be snuggled in bed. Bucky had been consistently working late nights with the rest of congress, busy since President Rossâ resignation and dealing with the international fallout of the US President waging war against Japan.
Memory Bucky gently places his suitcase and keys by the front door, not wanting to wake you, but itâs at that exact moment you trudge into the room, seemingly having heard him arrive home.
Bucky steps in front of you, close enough that he could reach out and touch you, but you look through him as though he doesnât exist. He tries to remind himself thatâs probably just how the void works, submerging you in your most painful memory, cursed to watch on without effect. At least thatâs what he tells himself because the alternative would be too painful.
He hadnât appreciated it in the moment, but you look so exhausted. Not just physically, but as if youâre tired of always having this same conversation with Bucky.
And you had.
âYouâre late.â
Hearing your voice again, after so long and believing he wouldnât have the privilege again feels like a gift, but your exasperated tone slashes at Buckyâs chest like a knife.
âYou know weâve been slammed.â
Fuck, of all the things he could have said, he had to go and say that, putting the blame back on your expectations rather than just taking accountability. He hadnât even apologised.
Bucky notices for the first time you rolled your eyes at his comment, and he canât say he blames you. He was such a dickhead, treating the light of his life like you didnât matter, taking for granted that youâd always be there.
âI didnât mean it! Iâm a fucking idiot, okay? You are my everything and you deserve so much better than this.â The real Bucky yells to drown out whatever memory Bucky continues to remark. Your eyes are vacant of any recognition that youâve absorbed his words, in fact, they lack any kind of affection at all considering youâre looking at someone you had at one time described as your soulmate.
That more than anything is what brings tears to Bucky's own eyes.
Before he gets another second to study your features he has sorely missed, Bucky feels a strong hand on his shoulder that spins him around. He comes face to face with his twin, taken aback that the memory form of himself can actually physically interact with him and deviate from the events of the night in question.
With super soldier reflexes Bucky usually benefits from, but is now being used against him, his twin lunges towards Bucky, a blank stare that he recognises as the dead look in the eyes he gets when he became The Winter Soldier.
Bucky barely has time to block the attack as his double closes both hands around his throat. This memory version of James Barnes is somehow much stronger than the real him, or perhaps itâs Buckyâs inability to harm a figure that looks identical to him that prevents from being able to fight back effectively against the corporeal manifestation of his subconscious.
You stand by emotionless as Bucky splatters and chokes, trying to punish away his clone to no avail and which only becomes more difficult with a lack of oxygen in his brain. He wants to die if this is the existence heâs forced to watch for eternity.
The last sound he remembers is his windpipe being crushed.
All of a sudden heâs back standing next to the front door, the scene serene and still as it had been when he first stepped into the void, as if nothing had happened. The tape rewound to the start.
But with a sore throat.
The kitchen is empty, other than the plates of a delicious meal you prepared covered in foil, going cold in Buckyâs absence. Nothing is out of place.
He hears the front door open but he doesnât look to where he knows heâs entering the apartment. Instead itâs you he keeps an eye out for, emerging from the bedroom with an aggrieved expression. Before you can even say a word, Buckyâs rushing to you, voice pleasing as he speaks.
âIâm sorry I was such a dick. Iâve always loved you, you did nothing but love me and take my shit and you deserve so much better than anything Iâve ever been able to give you. If I could go back in time and change it, I would in a heartbeat!â His mind is working a thousand miles an hour, trying to communicate how sorry he was he let it get to this stage, the words he should have said this night if he had any ounce of sense that you were so close to your breaking point.
Was this what he needed to provide the void? Working to amends for his wrongdoings? But itâs actions that show your true intentions, not frivolous words.
With a tilt of your head you step up to him, breaking out of the memory. For a prolonged moment you look up at him, gaze soft and loving as he remembered from the countless glorious days you had together, that little smirk curving on your lips which makes him completely weak in the knees.
God, he could never hurt you, at least more than he already has, not physically. If you attack him as the memory version of him had, he wouldnât lay a finger on you, heâd rather perish.
Just when he thinks you might kiss him rather than strike him, Bucky involuntarily leaning closer, you plunge your hand deep in his chest. He can feel your cold fingers feeling around the cavity before they close over his heart and pull it forcefully from his body.
Uncontrollable dizziness overcomes him and he must collapse to the floor for his perspective looking at you changes drastically, your feet coming into view. Red confetti like splotches drip on the hardwood between you, and he realises before everything goes black that youâve literally squashed his heart to a pulp.
Buckyâs panting breath fills the room.
The memory has reset again, but he wastes no time in searching for an escape, even though it feels like an anvil has just been dropped on his chest. There was one way into this void, so thereâs most likely only one way out. He just needs to find it.
He canât sit by and watch this play out when he knows exactly how this night concludes. He simply refuses to be witness to that again. But something in his gut knows that he canât interfere with the memory. The void, whether sentient or not he hasnât worked out yet, wants him to relive this wretched, miserable memory in full.
He tries exiting through the front door when his clone comes home at the start of the memory, however, he slams head first into what feels like a brick wall constructed purely to keep him contained in this hell.
âYouâre late.â
âYou know weâve been slammed.â
Rubbing his nose, Bucky continues his frantic search, his heart beating in his throat which still throbs from earlier. He has to get out of here. He hasnât even reached the worst part of the memory and he already wants to rip his ears off to prevent him having to process the hurt in your voice.
âI can't help that they need us working overtime after what happened with Ross.â
He sounds so indifferent to having clearly hurt your feelings that Bucky would punch his own head in if he didnât know that would result in a painful death and needing to replay this memory over again.
Perhaps this is the eternity he deserves after how he treated you.
âDo you know what it feels like to not be seen as a priority by the person who claims to love you?â
âI do love you.â
The doorway to the bedroom that you emerged from also leads to a solid barrier and in all his frustration Bucky slams a vibranium fist into it. It doesn't crack, but instead the force travels through his arm and up to his shoulder and he recoils from the piercing pain.
âWell I donât feel loved by you.â
But nothing could be more painful than that.
The words still sting like a knife puncturing his heart even though Bucky knew this time around they were coming. Theyâre the words that replay in his mind every night before he goes to sleep. No defences he could ever prepare would be sufficient to save him from the torment that he had not only broken your heart, but he had disappointed you, and betrayed your trust when he promised he would never be the cause of your pain.
âYou could have texted, just to let me know youâd be this late, that youâd miss dinner. But instead Iâm just supposed to sit around waiting, always doing things on your time, wasting my own. I feel like Iâm forever making allowances for you, but you never do the same for me. A relationship is meant to be give and take from both parties, compromising for each other, yet it feels like Iâm the only one sacrificing anything for this relationship.â
âYou know I hate texting.â
Bucky slides down the barrier and covers his ears with his hands as salty tears flow steadily from the corners of his eyes. Back in reality he could pretend this night didnât happen, place blocks in his mind to stop himself recalling these events, delude himself into believing he hadnât used weak excuses and a lack of effort when you were so close to being done with him completely.
Imagine that you were still his.
Time had helped him forget the exact words used to implode your relationship, but this front row seat reminds him not only how dumb his responses sounded, but brings back the heavy sadness in his chest it took him months to learn to live with and the raw emotion he can feel tightening his trachea, making it hard to breathe.
âIs that really all you have to say?â
âNo of course not - itâs just been a long day, canât we talk about this in the morning?â
Bucky knew in the moment instantly he had said the wrong thing, but itâs even more obvious watching on from the sidelines. Youâve got tears brimming in your eyes as you attempt not to completely break down in front of him and all he did was dismiss the very valid concerns you had about the relationship.
He felt like a fool back then. Now, itâs shame and despair which fight for dominance in the pit of his stomach.
The volume of voices gets louder and he canât bear to listen to anymore. But he knows he canât interfere if he doesnât want the memory to restart.
If the purpose of the void is to make you no longer want to exist anymore, it has certainly achieved its objective with Bucky.
âNo James, for once I want to do something in my timeframe, and I want to talk about this now.â
âFine. Itâs not like we havenât had this conversation before. I work too much. You donât get to see me. I thought you were going to be supportive of me being in congress? Knew I wanted to help the same American people I fought Nazis to protect and provide freedoms.â
With a sniffle, and exercising a great deal of restraint to not bash the back of his head repeatedly against the barrier, Bucky stands with a quivering lower lip. He needs to stop feeling sorry for himself when his own actions led him to this situation and find a way out of here.
If there is anything worse than reliving this memory, it would be watching it on replay till the end of time. But itâs easier said than done when he also has to contend with overcoming the most horrible memory in his arsenal.
âDonât you dare say I havenât been supportive Bucky, you donât realise what Iâve sacrificed so you can continue to pursue your career and we can stay together. You speak like you donât even want to be with me. If Iâm that unsupportive then why are you still with me?â
The silence is deafening.
Bucky wipes tears from his cheeks and tries his best to tune out what he knows are the exact words that come from your mouth as he looks around for any trace of a trigger to allow him to leave this moment in time.
âThatâs all I need to hear.â
âNo, darling please. I love you. Iâm just tired. Itâs been a long day.â
âIf you canât come up with any reasons why you actually want to be with me Bucky, then I think we need to admit that this isnât working. We arenât working.â
Bucky sees movement out of the corner of his eye. Knowing there should be nothing over by the other side of the room to where past him and you are fighting, he takes large strides over only to find nothing out of the ordinary, not a single item out of place. No clues as to how to get out of here - it was probably just a result of his eyes being filled with tears.
His fists slam down against the hall table, rattling a small vase holding flowers Bucky doesnât recall buying for you, which tips on its side and tumbles to the floor, breaking into shards with a resounding crash.
But it doesnât reset the memory.
âNot working?â
âYou heard me James.â
âNo⊠this canât be it. This canât be the end. I love you. You love me.â
Just as heâs about to give up hope, wanting to crash his head against the mirror rather than be forced to experience the worst day of his life yet again, he notices someone rocking themselves in the fetal position within the mirror who doesnât belong in this memory.
Bucky hastily turns back to the room where memory you and him are still arguing to confirm heâs not just seeing things, and to his utter delight this person, who looks like Bob from the back, only exists in the mirror dimension.
He first attempts with a pointer finger, and where the mirror should be, solid and firm, instead his digit disappears inside, rippling like the surface of water. His heart skips a beat.
This is the way out.
âThis is one of those times where love isnât enough.â
For just a split second Bucky looks back, to get one last glimpse of you in the flesh before he makes his exit, even if you are visibly distressed, and it confounds him to see not one but two of you in the scene. He barely has a second to shake the confusion from his mind for the next moment heâs stepping into the mirror and the memory instantly changes into a room that appears to be an attic that Yelena and Bob have already made it to.
He could have sworn there was an additional version of you in that memory, but how could there have been? The two of you were alone the night you broke up. Bucky quickly comes to the conclusion it must have been the mirror playing tricks on him.
Even if he doesnât fully believe it.
* * *
Once his newfound friends help rescue Bob from the void, itâs the brightness of the real world that strikes him first.
Bucky hadnât realised how dim and void of light the memory he stepped into had become. He supposed there was meaning behind that if he tried hard enough to think about it, but he didnât want to contemplate it at all.
There was still a hole burning in his sternum from having to relive his most painful memory.
Bucky Barnes had committed some truly heinous crimes while under the influence of Hydra. But the difference this time was he had been in full control of his actions. Him failing you, breaking your heart and your trust, that was all him.
There was no one else to blame this time.
Everyone else appears relieved, the darkness dissipated and where it had been, rays of golden sunshine and the camaraderie of being around those who have survived something otherworldly together in its place.
But Buckyâs pain doesnât feel alleviated, not in the slightest. You still consume his thoughts, and clearly plague his memories. After three months of pretending to be fine, this was a severe reminder that he has been walking around with a fragmented heart, shards of which make each beat agony, since the moment he left your apartment three months ago.
Bucky canât believe he let a job come between him and the only person who has ever made him feel truly seen and loved, but especially one in which bureaucracy and corrupt politicians prevent him from actually effecting change that makes a difference to the lives of the most vulnerable.
If today has taught him anything, itâs that the people you surround yourself with are what makes the biggest difference in your life. You came into his life when all he wanted was to be alone, isolated in his own despair, but you showed him how beautiful and vibrant this existence can truly be, even with mental demons laying dormant in his shadows. Much like how his band of misfits can hopefully now show Bob.
You are the one who got away.
And heâll have to live with those choices for the rest of his life.
Follow @ems-library for fic notifications
stop trying to make intimacy casual. intimacy will never be casual.
Serendipity & Stumbles
Summary: Based on this request. You never expected to keep bumping into Harry Styles, single dad and bookstore owner, but fateâand your kidsâhad other plans. From coffee shop disasters to rainy-night rescues, your lives keep tangling together, no matter how much you try to resist. But when two very determined little matchmakers step in, running might not be an option anymore.
Slow-burn, single-parent chaos, meddling kids, and Harry in full-on dad mode? Yeah, youâre in trouble.
A/N: I dragged this slow burn out on purpose. I made you suffer. And honestly? Iâd do it again. Thanks for sticking around, even when you wanted to scream at them to just kiss already. This isn't proofread, sorryyy
Word Count: 8,4k
Warnings:
Single parent struggles (exhaustion, self-doubt, balancing work & motherhood)
Mentions of past unhealthy relationships (nothing graphic, but allusions to emotional difficulty & fear of attachment)
Slow-burn romance (painfully slow at times, because I like to make you suffer before the payoff đ)
Lots of angst, mutual pining, and missed opportunities before they actually get their shit together
Fluff so sweet it might rot your teeth
Smut!!
â â âź â â
The smell of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around you the moment you stepped inside the bookstore café, the warmth of it a stark contrast to the biting chill outside. You shifted your bag higher on your shoulder, guiding Lily toward an empty table near the window, where golden afternoon light streamed in.
She clutched her book to her chest, her small fingers curling around the edges of the worn cover like it was something precious. âCan I get a hot chocolate, Mummy?â she asked, peering up at you with wide eyes.
You smiled, smoothing down the flyaway curls at her temple. âOf course, love. Letâs get settled first, yeah?â
Balancing motherhood and work had turned you into an expert multitaskerâor at least someone who tried very hard to be. You pulled out your laptop as Lily slid into the chair opposite you, already flipping through the pages of her book. The cafĂ© was busy but cozy, the low hum of conversations blending with the clinking of mugs and the occasional flutter of a turned page.
This bookstore had quickly become your sanctuaryâsomewhere Lily could sink into stories while you answered emails or proofread articles. It was one of the few places where you could steal a moment of peace.
At least, until peace became a fleeting thing.
One second, Lily was happily stirring her hot chocolate, her lips moving as she silently read. The next, her elbow knocked against the cup, and the dark liquid sloshed over the rim, spilling onto her dress.
She froze.
You saw the panic flicker across her face before the wobble in her lip began.
âOh, baby, itâs okay,â you soothed, immediately reaching for the napkins. âWeâll clean it up.â
But her breath hitched, and her eyes grew glassy, the embarrassment of it all outweighing any comfort you could offer. You could see it comingâthe slow build to a meltdown in the middle of a crowded cafĂ©.
And then, a voiceâwarm, steady.
âNeed some help?â
You looked up.
The man standing beside your table held out a stack of napkins, his green eyes bright with amusement but softened by something kinder. His dark curls were pushed back from his face, a few strands stubbornly falling forward. There was a quiet confidence in the way he carried himself, dressed in a sweater that hugged his frame just right, sleeves pushed up to reveal inked skin.
Lily sniffled, her tiny hands twisting in the fabric of her stained dress.
Harry Styles.
You knew of him, in the way that people who lived in the same neighborhood knew of each other. The bookstore cafĂ© was his, after all. Youâd seen him before, in passingârestocking shelves, chatting with customers, sometimes with a little boy by his side. But youâd never spoken beyond polite nods and murmured thank-yous.
You hesitated before taking the napkins, flashing a quick, grateful smile. âThank you. Sheâs justââ
âHaving a rough go of it,â he finished, nodding. âUnderstandable. Hot chocolate tragedies are serious business.â
Lily blinked up at him, her lip still wobbling but her sniffles slowing.
Harry crouched beside her, a small smile playing at his lips. âIâve got a spare jumper in the backâbelongs to my son. I can grab it for you, if youâd like.â
Lily glanced at you for reassurance. You squeezed her small hand before nodding. âThatâs very kind of you.â
âNo trouble at all,â he said before disappearing into the back of the shop.
Lily fidgeted in her chair, picking at the hem of her dress. âI didnât mean to spill,â she murmured.
âI know, sweetheart,â you said softly. âIt was just an accident.â
Before you could say more, Harry returned, holding out a navy-blue sweater. It was slightly oversized, well-loved, the sleeves a little worn at the cuffs.
âHere we go,â he said, handing it to Lily. âTheoâmy sonâoutgrows things faster than I can keep up with, so we always have extras.â
Lily took it, her small fingers brushing against the soft fabric. âThank you,â she whispered.
Harry smiled, standing back up to his full height. His eyes flicked to you, something unreadable in his gaze. âNo need to give it back. Consider it a gift from one hot chocolate lover to another.â
A beat of quiet passed between you, something unspoken lingering in the air.
You cleared your throat, breaking the moment. âThatâs really thoughtful of you.â
He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. âPart of the job.â
Lily tugged the sweater over her dress, the sleeves hanging past her fingers. You expected her to protest, but instead, she let out a small giggle, wiggling her arms. âItâs soft.â
Harry grinned. âGlad you approve.â
You exhaled, finally allowing the tension in your shoulders to ease. âWell, thank you again. We really appreciate it.â
âAnytime,â he said, giving a small nod before turning back toward the counter.
You watched him go, your fingers absently tapping against your coffee cup.
You werenât sure why, but something about the moment stuck with you longer than it should have.
Maybe it was the ease of it, the way Harry had stepped in without hesitation, like it was second nature for him to help. Maybe it was the way he spoke to Lilyânot as if she were just a child, but like her feelings mattered. Or maybe it was the simple fact that for the first time in a long while, someone had made your chaotic day feel just a little bit lighter.
You thought about it again a few days later as you sat on a bench at the park, the cool afternoon air crisp against your skin. Lily was somewhere nearby, her laughter carrying on the breeze, but your eyes were glued to the screen of your laptop, fingers tapping against the keyboard as you proofread an article on deadline.
âJust five more minutes, baby,â you murmured absently, knowing she probably wasnât even listening.
It was one of those afternoons where time felt both endless and fleeting. The playground was buzzing with energyâkids climbing, running, the occasional squeal of excitement cutting through the air. You werenât really paying attention, though, too caught up in work, too focused on making sure the words in front of you made sense.
A few benches away, Harry was doing much of the same.
Phone in hand, he paced a few steps back and forth, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the mobile to his ear. His brows were slightly furrowed, lips pressed together in that concentrated way people had when they were trying to remain patient on a frustrating call.
Neither of you noticed at first.
Neither of you saw them.
Lily and Theo.
Two tiny forces of nature, colliding without you even realizing it.
It wasnât until a burst of laughter pulled your focus that you finally looked up.
Your gaze landed on Lily first, standing in the middle of the grass, her hands on her hips, head tilted back in giggles. Across from her, a little boyâa year or so older, dark curls peeking out from beneath a beanieâwas laughing just as hard.
They were playing together.
You blinked, momentarily thrown, scanning the area for whoever the child belonged to.
Harryâs voice was still a low murmur as he spoke into the phone, but his eyes had landed on the same scene. His expression softened instantly, the stress from his call momentarily forgotten.
Theo.
You recognized the sweater immediatelyâthe sweater. The same one Harry had given Lily after the hot chocolate incident. It was still too big on her, the sleeves hanging past her fingers, but that wasnât stopping her from flapping her arms dramatically while Theo doubled over laughing.
It was oddly fascinating, watching them.
Lily, typically so shy around new kids, was standing toe-to-toe with Theo, chattering animatedly, completely unbothered by the fact that theyâd only just met. Theo, for his part, looked just as amused, his eyes bright with mischief, like heâd already decided they were going to be best friends.
Your lips twitched into an involuntary smile.
It was⊠sweet.
Something in your periphery shifted, and you realized Harry was looking at you now.
There was a momentâan unspoken, quiet kind of momentâwhere neither of you said anything. Just sat there, watching your kids become friends without effort, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Harryâs phone was still at his ear, but whatever conversation he was having was clearly secondary now. He shook his head slightly, amused, before rubbing a hand along his jaw, his own smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Without thinking, you spoke.
âWell, this is convenient.â
Harry huffed a laugh, finally ending his call before slipping the phone into his pocket. âGuess theyâre making the decisions for us now.â
You nodded toward them. âI take it Theo is the mastermind behind this plan?â
He smirked. âOh, definitely. Heâs got a talent for roping people into whatever ridiculous scheme heâs come up with.â
Lilyâs laughter rang out again as Theo dramatically flopped onto the grass, pretending to faint over something sheâd said.
You shook your head fondly. âI think Lily might have just met her match.â
âLooks that way,â Harry agreed, leaning back against the bench, his posture relaxed but his gaze still lingering on his son.
You let the silence stretch between you, comfortable in a way you didnât expect.
It was a strange thing, this⊠whatever this was.
Before the café, Harry had been nothing more than a familiar face. A neighbor, a bookstore owner, someone you exchanged brief smiles with but never really knew.
Now, thoughânow, he was sitting next to you, watching your kids become fast friends, and somehow it didnât feel like a coincidence at all.
Just as you were about to say something else, Lily ran up to you, breathless and grinning. âMummy! Theo says he has a dog!â
Harry chuckled, clearly predicting where this was going.
âNot just a dog,â Theo corrected, running up beside her. âA really big dog.â
Lilyâs eyes went wide. âCan I meet him?â
Harry shot you a look, brows raised in amusement. âYou alright with that?â
You hesitated, caught between the natural urge to say no to anything spontaneousâand the realization that, maybe, it wouldnât be such a bad thing to say yes.
After all⊠maybe there were worse things than a little serendipity.
That thought lingered in your mind long after the park playdate, long after Lily had chattered endlessly about Theoâs âreally big dogâ and how she was convinced they needed one just like him.
It was still there a week later, tugging at the edges of your thoughts as you walked into the parents' meeting at Lilyâs school.
You werenât particularly looking forward to itâthese things were always a mix of too much small talk and too many emails youâd later forget to reply toâbut you showed up, because thatâs what you did. You juggled deadlines and grocery lists and bedtime routines, and you showed up.
Sliding into one of the chairs near the back of the classroom, you pulled out your notebook, half-listening as the teacher welcomed everyone and started discussing upcoming class activities. The words blurred a little, your mind already jumping to your to-do list for the rest of the dayâuntil a familiar voice cut through the hum of conversation beside you.
âDidnât peg you for the back-row type.â
Your head turned sharply.
Harry.
Seated next to you, clad in a well-fitted jacket over a soft-looking jumper, casually sprawled in his chair like he wasnât completely throwing off your focus. His green eyes flickered with amusement as he drummed his fingers lightly against the desk.
You blinked, momentarily thrown. âIâwhat?â
His lips twitched. âBack row. Feels like the kind of seat you pick if youâre planning to sneak out early.â
You huffed a quiet laugh. âRight, because Iâm clearly a rebel parent.â
Harry smirked, but before he could respond, the teacher started explaining the logistics of an upcoming field trip, and the room quieted.
You tried to focusâyou really didâbut awareness prickled at you, your body attuned to the fact that Harry was right next to you.
It didnât help that every now and then, youâd catch him glancing your way when the teacher said something mildly ridiculous, his expression just amused enough to make it harder to keep a straight face.
Or that when the topic of chaperones came up, Theoâs name was read out right before Lilyâs, the realization settling between you with an unspoken of course theyâre in the same class.
And maybeâjust maybeâyou didnât miss the way Harry muttered a quiet figures under his breath, a slight shake of his head that made you bite back a smile.
By the time the meeting wrapped up, the teacher dismissing everyone with a reminder to sign up for volunteer slots, you were already gathering your things, ready to slip outâwhen Harry turned to you.
âFancy a coffee?â
You froze for half a second.
It was a simple question. Harmless. A casual offer between two parents who, apparently, kept running into each other.
But something about the way he said itâthe way his voice dipped just slightly, the way his eyes stayed steady on yoursâmade it feel less casual.
You hesitated.
And Harry, ever perceptive, caught it immediately. His posture shifted, something careful settling into his expression, like he wasnât quite sure whether to push or back off.
âI mean,â he added, lightening his tone, âitâs just down the road. No pressure. Could be a good excuse to talk about how weâve accidentally ended up with kids who seem hell-bent on becoming best friends.â
You swallowed, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter.
It was tempting. So tempting.
And maybe, once upon a time, you wouldnât have thought twice about saying yes.
But you werenât that person anymore. Youâd learned to be cautious. To tread carefully when it came to things that had the potential to turn into more than just casual conversation.
And Harryâwhether he realized it or notâfelt like exactly that kind of thing.
So you smiled, polite but firm. âI appreciate the offer, but I should really get back to work.â
Harry didnât miss a beat. Didnât let disappointment show, though something unreadable flickered in his gaze before he nodded, easy and unbothered. âFair enough. Another time, maybe.â
You hummed, noncommittal.
But as you turned to leave, your heart did this stupid, traitorous thingâthis little lurch in your chestâbecause something in you already knew that this wouldnât be the last time.
And, of course, you were right.
Because one week later, you were standing on the pavement, clutching Lilyâs small hand, rain drenching through your coat as you triedâand failedânot to look as exhausted as you felt.
It had been a long day.
A really long day.
Your babysitter had canceled last minute, leaving you with no choice but to bring Lily along to your late-afternoon client meeting. Sheâd been goodâso goodâsitting quietly at the cafĂ© table, coloring in the pages of her book while you discussed article revisions and deadline extensions. But by the time you stepped out into the dimly lit street, the sky had split open, rain coming down in relentless sheets, and you were both soaked before you even had the chance to open your umbrella.
You exhaled, pressing your palm against your forehead as you attempted to flag down a taxi. No luck.
âMummy,â Lily whined, shivering beside you. âIâm cold.â
Your heart clenched. âI know, baby. Iâm tryingââ
A honk cut through the downpour.
You turned toward the sound just as a familiar black Range Rover slowed beside you, the driverâs window rolling down.
Harry.
His curls were a little messy, his face dimly lit by the dashboard lights, one hand gripping the steering wheel as he leaned slightly toward the open window. His brows knitted together the second he took you in.
âAre you seriously walking home in this?â
You blinked against the rain. âI donât exactly have a choice, Harry.â
He scoffed, already reaching for the unlock button. âGet in.â
You hesitated.
Not because you didnât want toâyou were cold and exhausted, and Lily was on the verge of full-body shiversâbut because the last thing you needed was to owe someone anything. To let someone in, even if only for a car ride home.
Harry must have noticed the reluctance on your face because his tone softened. âCome on. No agenda. Just two parents helping each other out.â
Before you could argue, the back door swung open.
âMummy! Theoâs in here!â Lilyâs delighted voice rang out, already scrambling into the seat beside him.
You turned sharplyâtraitor!âbut Lily was grinning, the excitement of seeing her new best friend completely overriding any of your hesitation.
You sighed, defeated. âGuess weâre getting in the car.â
Harry smirked. âGuess you are.â
You climbed into the passenger seat, the warmth of the car immediately soothing your frozen limbs. Your coat dripped against the leather as you fastened your seatbelt, and when Harry reached into the back and wordlessly handed you a hoodieâprobably Theoâs againâyou swallowed past the tightness in your throat before accepting it.
âThanks.â
âNo problem.â He shifted the car into drive, glancing in the rearview mirror where the kids were already chatting excitedly. âWhere to?â
You gave him your address, and he repeated it under his breath like he was committing it to memory.
The hum of the car filled the space between you for a moment, the rain drumming against the windshield. You were suddenly aware of how quiet it was in the front seatâhow the easy banter youâd shared before wasnât there now, replaced by something heavier.
âLong day?â Harry finally asked, his voice softer than before.
You exhaled. âYou could say that.â
âI get it,â he murmured. âSome days just feel impossible.â
You turned to look at him, but his eyes stayed on the road, his fingers flexing against the steering wheel.
It would have been easy to nod and leave it at that.
But something about the way he said itâlike he really did get itâmade the words slip out before you could stop them.
âMy babysitter bailed last minute,â you admitted. âHad to bring Lily to work with me. I know she didnât mind, but itâs just⊠a lot, sometimes.â
Harryâs fingers tapped lightly against the wheel. âYeah. I know what you mean.â
A beat of silence.
Thenâ
âItâs just you and Lily, then?â
You hesitated. Not because it was a secret, but because it was one of those questions that carried weight, even if it was asked casually.
âYeah,â you said finally. âJust us.â
Another pause. Then, quietlyâ
âSame. Just me and Theo.â
You glanced at him.
There was something different in his voice now, something laced with memory, something personal.
âWhat happened?â you asked gently.
He inhaled, long and slow. When he spoke, his voice was even, but you could hear the emotion beneath it.
âMy wifeâTheoâs mumâpassed away a few years ago.â
Your chest tightened. âHarry, Iââ
âYou donât have to say youâre sorry.â He exhaled, shaking his head slightly. âIt was⊠unexpected. One day we were planning holidays, the next, I was trying to figure out how to be a single dad.â
Your fingers curled into the sleeves of the hoodie.
You werenât sure why, but something about hearing him say itâacknowledging it so openly, without dramatics, without self-pityâhit you harder than you expected.
âI left,â you admitted softly.
Harry turned, brow furrowing. âLeft?â
You swallowed. âLilyâs dad. I left him.â
Understanding flickered in his gaze, but he didnât say anything. Just waited.
You let out a slow breath, focusing on the rain streaking against the glass. âIt wasnât⊠good. I knew if I stayed, it would only get worse. So I left.â A pause. âFor her. For Lily.â
Harry didnât ask for details. Didnât push.
He just nodded, like that was enough. Like he understood more than he was saying.
The air in the car was heavier now, but not uncomfortable. It wasnât pity, wasnât awkward sympathy. It was just two people, two parents, who had both lost something. Who were still finding their way forward.
When the car finally pulled up in front of your building, you turned to him, fingers hovering over the door handle.
âThank you,â you said, meaning it more than you expected.
Harry met your gaze, something steady and unreadable in his expression. âAnytime.â
And as you climbed out, leading Lily inside, you realized that maybeâjust maybeâthis wasnât the last time, either.
And again, you were right.
Because the universeâor fate, or whatever force kept weaving Harry into your lifeâwasnât quite done with you yet.
It started as a normal evening. A school eventâone of those midwinter, PTA-sponsored gatherings where the kids were running on pure sugar-fueled excitement, and the parents were running on nothing but caffeine and obligation.
You had barely stepped inside the decorated gymnasium when Lily had spotted Theo, the two of them taking off toward the craft station without so much as a backward glance.
âYeah, sure, donât say goodbye,â you muttered, exhaling as you peeled off your coat and shoved your gloves into your bag.
âYou get used to it.â
Your stomach dipped at the sound of his voice.
You turned to find Harry standing beside you, shaking snow out of his curls, his jacket dusted with white. He looked unfairly good for someone who had just come in from the coldâcheeks flushed, green eyes bright with amusement as he nodded toward the kids.
âFirst time they ditch you, it stings,â he continued, smirking. âBy the hundredth time, you stop taking it personally.â
You huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes. âGood to know.â
For a while, the event played out exactly as expectedâparents milling around making polite small talk, kids crafting messy holiday decorations that would inevitably end up forgotten at the bottom of their backpacks.
You kept an eye on Lily, but she and Theo were perfectly entertained, alternating between cookie decorating and attempting to build a fort out of the chairs in the corner of the room.
And then, just as you were considering sneaking off to the refreshment table for a refill on your coffee, the first announcement crackled through the speaker system.
A snowstorm.
A bad one.
Roads already piling up, traffic at a standstill. Everyone advised to stay put until further notice.
A slow, collective groan moved through the crowd.
You exhaled sharply, rubbing your fingers over your temples.
âYouâve got to be kidding me.â
Beside you, Harry let out a low whistle. âGuess weâre stuck here for a while.â
You turned to him, narrowing your eyes. âYou sound entirely too relaxed about this.â
He smirked. âBecause Iâve accepted my fate.â He nodded toward Theo and Lily, who were thriving in the chaos, currently attempting to organize some kind of group game. âThey, on the other hand, are living their best lives.â
You sighed, watching as Lily excitedly gestured for Theo to follow her to the makeshift play area.
âTraitor,â you muttered under your breath.
Harry chuckled. âCome on,â he said, nodding toward an empty classroom that had been opened up as an extra seating area. âMight as well find somewhere to sit before weâre reduced to standing in the hallway.â
You followed him, grateful for the momentary escape from the crowded gym.
The classroom was small, with a handful of desks pushed against the walls. Harry dropped into one of the chairs, stretching his legs out in front of him, while you settled into the seat beside him, cradling your coffee cup between your palms.
For a moment, there was nothing but the muffled sound of voices from the hallway, the occasional scrape of a chair from another room.
And thenâ
âSo,â Harry mused, glancing sideways at you. âOn a scale from mild to intervention-level dependency, how bad is your caffeine addiction?â
You blinked at him. âExcuse me?â
He nodded toward your cup, smirking. âThatâs, what, your third coffee tonight?â
You scoffed. âSecond, actually. And Iâll have you know that my caffeine intake is perfectly normal.â
He hummed, unconvinced. âSure.â
You narrowed your eyes. âI bet you have a thing too, donât you?â
His brows raised. âA thing?â
âYes. Some habit or vice youâre embarrassingly reliant on.â You smirked. âLet me guessâyouâre a late-night snacker.â
Harry scoffed, shaking his head. âNot even close.â
You tapped your chin, pretending to consider. âOkay. Chronic over-user of pet names?â
His lips twitched. âI mean, love, I do have a tendencyââ
You groaned. âOh, that checks out.â
Harry grinned, his dimples deepening. âYou got me.â
For a moment, the conversation settled into something easy, the banter light, playful. And youâdespite the exhaustion, despite the long night aheadâfeltâŠ
Good.
Harry shifted slightly, watching you. âYouâre smiling.â
Your brows furrowed. âI am?â
âYeah,â he murmured, his voice quieter now. âItâs nice.â
And thatâthat small, simple sentenceâmade something tighten in your chest.
Because Harry wasnât flirting. He wasnât teasing.
He was just⊠noticing.
And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly seen.
You cleared your throat, looking away, focusing on the rim of your cup. âDonât get used to it.â
Harry chuckled, but didnât press.
You sat there for a little while longer, the room quieter than the ones beyond it, but filled with something else.
Something unspoken.
Something that felt an awful lot like anticipation.
Thatâs what had been simmering under the surface ever since that snowed-in night at the school.
You told yourself it was nothingâthat it was just the circumstances, the way youâd both been forced into conversation, the way time had slowed just enough for you to forget that Harry Styles was not supposed to be part of your life in any meaningful way.
But then came Saturday.
And Saturday ruined everything.
It had been Lilyâs idea to go to the bookstore cafĂ©, but you didnât exactly fight her on it.
You could pretend all you wanted, but the truth was, you liked it there. The smell of coffee, the cozy chairs tucked between shelves, the soft murmur of people flipping through booksâit was one of the few places in the city where your brain actually slowed down for a moment.
So, youâd packed up your laptop, bundled Lily in her coat, and headed down the familiar street, telling yourself that Harry might not even be working today. That it wouldnât mean anything if you ran into him.
And then you walked inside, and he was right there.
Behind the counter, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, laughing at something one of his employees had said before turning at just the right momentâseeing you.
His eyes brightened. âLook who it is.â
Your stomach flipped. Stupid. Completely ridiculous.
âHi, Harry.â You cleared your throat, pushing past the way his smile made your chest feel tight. âBusy today?â
âNot too bad.â He leaned against the counter. âHere for your fix?â
You scoffed, already setting your bag down on the edge. âIâll have you know I went an entire day without coffee yesterday.â
Harry placed a hand over his heart, mock-surprised. âI donât believe you.â
You rolled your eyes, but Lily was less focused on your caffeine consumption and more on the glass case filled with pastries.
Harry caught her staring, smirking. âHungry, love?â
She nodded enthusiastically.
âWell, lucky for you, Iâve got some fresh croissants that need a home.â He grabbed a plate and slid two onto it before adding, âOn the house.â
You immediately shook your head. âHarry, you donât have toââ
âI want to,â he said simply, then met your gaze. âStay. Sit down for a bit.â
It wasnât a request. It wasnât loaded with anything, wasnât flirtatious or heavy.
It was just⊠easy.
So you stayed.
You found a table near the window, sipping your coffee while Lily and Theoâwho had conveniently appeared out of nowhereâsettled on the floor nearby with a pile of books between them.
And somehow, Harry ended up in the chair across from you.
It wasnât intentional. At least, you told yourself it wasnât.
It was just conversationâbanter, sarcasm, Lilyâs constant interruptions to tell you random facts about the book she was reading.
And then⊠it wasnât.
Because at some point, the edges of the conversation softened.
At some point, you started talking about things that werenât just surface-level.
At some point, he told you about the bookstoreâhow it had started as a risk, how he wasnât sure if it would work, but heâd wanted Theo to have a place to grow up around stories.
And at some point, you found yourself telling him about your writing, about the way youâd stumbled into freelancing after leaving your old life behind, about how sometimes, you missed the structure of an office, but mostly, you liked this. The freedom. The control over your own world.
Harry had listened.
Really listened.
And then heâd said somethingâsomething about how he admired that, about how he could see how much youâd built for yourself.
And thatâs when it happened.
Thatâs when you realized.
This feels like a date.
The realization hit like a punch to the ribs.
Because it wasnât a date. It couldnât be.
You werenât dating. You werenât even thinking about dating. That wasnât part of your life anymore, wasnât something you could afford to let yourself want.
And yetâ
You were sitting across from a man who made you feel like maybe it was.
A man who made it easy. Who made you laugh, who made you forget to keep your guard up, who looked at you in a way that made you feel like more than just a tired mother balancing a thousand things at once.
And thatâthatâwas terrifying.
So, before he could say anything else, before you could let yourself sit in the moment for even a second longer, you panicked.
You shot up from your chair so fast Harryâs brows furrowed.
âI should go,â you blurted, already reaching for your bag.
Harry blinked. âWhat?â
You forced a smile. âI justâLily has a lot of homework, and I need toââ
Harry wasnât stupid.
You could see the confusion in his expression, the way his body tensed just slightly, the way his fingers curled around his mug like he was trying to figure out where the shift had happened.
But he didnât push.
He just nodded, slow and careful, like he was trying to let you run if you needed to.
Lily pouted as you grabbed her hand, but she didnât argue.
Harry said goodbye to her, ruffled Theoâs hair, then glanced back at you just once before you pushed open the door and stepped out into the cold.
And as you walked awayâyour heart pounding, your hands tremblingâyou told yourself youâd done the right thing.
You told yourself that leaving was better.
That letting him get too close would only make things harder.
You told yourself all of that.
And yetâ
It didnât stop you from feeling like youâd just made a mistake.
In fact, it only made it worse.
The whole way home, Lily kept glancing up at you, brows furrowed in confusion, like she knew something had happened but couldnât quite figure out what. And the next morning, when she asked if you were going back to the bookstore soon, youâd mumbled something noncommittal, changed the subject, and buried yourself in work.
For days, you convinced yourself youâd done the right thing. That putting space between you and Harry was necessary. That whatever this strange, unexpected thing was between youâit wasnât real.
But while you were busy trying to ignore it, two small, scheming masterminds were doing the exact opposite.
âI think my dad likes your mum.â
Theoâs voice was quiet, but not that quiet.
Lily, crouched beside him under the slide at the park, frowned. âI know.â
Theo blinked. âYou do?â
Lily gave him a look, as if obviously. âHe always smiles when sheâs around. And he looks at her like my teacher looks at her coffee.â
Theo squinted. âLike he needs her?â
âExactly.â
Theo leaned back, lips pursed in thought. âWell, thatâs a problem.â
Lily nodded gravely. âBecause my mum likes your dad, too.â
Theoâs eyes widened. âReally?â
âYeah.â Lily huffed, crossing her arms. âBut sheâs scared.â
Theo considered this, chewing on his lip. Then, slowly, a smirk stretched across his face.
âWell, that just means we have to fix it.â
Lily narrowed her eyes. âHow?â
Theo grinned. âLeave that to me.â
You should have known something was up when Lily had askedâtoo sweetlyâif you wanted to take her to the park that weekend.
You should have been suspicious when she mentioned, offhandedly, that Theo had told her he and Harry were going to be there at the same time.
But youânaive, unsuspecting, and still drowning in your own avoidanceâhad just gone along with it.
Which was exactly how you ended up here.
Standing at the edge of the field, watching as Theo and Lily cackled like tiny villains, while Harryâcompletely unaware of their plotâran around playing soccer with them.
And you?
You were helpless.
Because, despite everything, despite every wall you had thrown up, despite every reason you had to keep your distanceâyou couldnât look away.
Harry looked happy.
Really, truly happy.
His dimples were deep, his laughter loud and unrestrained. His curls were a mess from the wind, cheeks flushed from the cold, eyes crinkling at the corners as he dodged Theoâs attempt to steal the ball.
And Lily?
She looked just as free.
She wasnât shy, wasnât hesitatingâshe was grinning, giggling so hard that she tripped, falling right into Harryâs arms as he caught her mid-stumble.
And thatâthat momentâwas what did it.
Because when Harry steadied her, ruffling her hair before sending her off again, you felt something click.
Something shift.
And suddenly, the thought you had been pushing away for weeks broke through like a crack in the dam, relentless and impossible to ignore.
This could be something.
Something good. Something real. Something you werenât sure you were ready forâbut something you didnât want to run from anymore.
Because, maybeâŠ
Maybe it wasnât just serendipity.
Maybe it was something that was supposed to happen all along.
That thought followed you home. It followed you through dinner, through Lilyâs animated retelling of her very official soccer victory, through the quiet moments when she was curled up in bed, her breathing slow and even.
And it followed you long after that, settling in your chest, stubborn and impossible to ignore.
Because you knew what you had to do.
So, the next afternoon, after too much pacing and too much overthinking, you found yourself standing outside the bookstore café, heart hammering as you pushed open the door.
Harry was behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, a pencil tucked behind his ear as he scanned the inventory list in front of him. He looked focused, but the second he glanced up and saw you, something flickered across his faceâsomething cautious.
You swallowed. Right. You did that.
Taking a breath, you stepped forward. âCan we talk?â
He set the clipboard down, wiping his hands on a cloth before nodding toward the back. âCome on.â
You followed him past the bookshelves, through a small hallway that led to a quieter seating area. It was dimly lit, quieter than the front of the shop, and suddenly, this felt very real.
Harry turned to you, arms crossed, waiting.
You exhaled. âIâI wanted to say Iâm sorry.â
His brows furrowed slightly, but he didnât interrupt.
You forced yourself to meet his gaze. âFor running. For⊠whatever that was.â You sighed, rubbing your hands over your jeans. âI got scared.â
His expression didnât change, but something in his posture shifted. A quiet understanding settling between you.
âI get it,â he said finally. âBut I need to know where your head is at, Y/N.â His voice was even, steady. âBecause I donât do games. I donât do halfway.â
You swallowed, throat tight.
âI know.â
He stepped closer, eyes never leaving yours. âSo, what do you want?â
You hesitated, heart pounding.
But then, you thought about Lilyâyour Lily. Thought about how effortlessly she had let Theo in, how much brighter she had been since meeting him.
And then, you thought about yourself.
About the way Harry made you laugh. About the way he looked at youâlike you werenât just a mother, just a woman who had learned how to live cautiously, but someone he saw.
And suddenly, the answer wasnât scary anymore.
âI want to try,â you whispered.
Harryâs shoulders relaxed. His jaw unclenched. And then, slowly, carefully, he stepped forward.
His fingers reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. âYeah?â
You nodded, exhaling shakily. âYeah.â
His lips quirked, but he didnât say anything.
He just leaned in.
The kiss was soft.
Lingering.
Like it was meant to happen.
And maybeâŠ
Maybe it was.
Maybe it had always been leading to this. To a quiet evening, to wine and laughter and the slow, inevitable pull of something neither of you could ignore any longer.
You werenât supposed to end up at Harryâs place that night. It had started with dinnerâjust a casual thing, an unspoken agreement that whatever was growing between you should have space to exist outside of fleeting moments and bookstore conversations.
The kids had been there, of course. It wasnât a date. It wasnât something you had planned.
But it had felt easy.
Effortless, even.
Like the four of you were already slipping into place, like Theo rolling his eyes at Lilyâs terrible knock-knock jokes was as natural as Harry stealing a bite of food off your plate, smirking when you swatted at him.
And then, somehow, it had stretched later than expected.
The kids had curled up on the couch, movie playing softly in the background, their laughter slowly fading into soft, steady breaths.
And thenâ
Then it was just you and Harry.
Alone.
A glass of wine, the fire crackling softly in the background.
Your legs tucked under you as you sat on the couch, warmth settling in your limbsânot just from the wine, but from this. From him.
Harry leaned back, fingers tapping against his glass. âSo.â
You raised a brow. âSo?â
He smirked. âAre we still pretending this isnât happening?â
Your breath hitched.
Because this.
This was happening.
The easy way he watched you. The way your body tilted toward him without thinking. The way you felt calm here, in his space, in this moment.
You exhaled, heart hammering as you set your wine down.
âI donât want to pretend,â you admitted.
Harry studied you for a long moment. Then, slowly, he set his glass aside, shifting closer.
And when he leaned inâwhen he brushed his lips against yours, just barely, just enough to give you a chance to stop thisâyou didnât.
You pressed closer.
And finally, finally, you let yourself fall.
Right into him. Right into the warmth of his hands, the steady press of his mouth, the way he didnât hesitate when you kissed him back.
It was slow at first, unhurried and exploratory, like you were both learning something newâeven though this had been building for months. Even though the tension between you had been simmering, bubbling over in every stolen glance, every playful smirk, every time he looked at you like he knew exactly what you were trying to hide.
And now, you werenât hiding anymore.
His hands found your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of your sweater, dragging you in until you were flush against him. He was so warm, the solid weight of his chest pressing into yours, his scent intoxicatingâsomething woody, something clean, something completely Harry.
You let out a soft gasp when he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing over yours in a slow, teasing stroke.
That soundâit did something to him.
Because suddenly, his grip tightened.
And then, you were moving.
He guided you backward until your lower back hit the edge of the kitchen counter. You barely had time to process the cool surface against your skin before his hands were everywhereâsliding beneath your sweater, mapping the curves of your waist, the dip of your spine, his fingers pressing just firmly enough to make you arch into him.
âHarryââ
He groaned at the way you said his name, his lips never leaving yours as he lifted you onto the counter, spreading your thighs as he stepped between them.
And that was it.
That was the moment everything tipped over the edge.
Because then, Harry was everywhere.
His mouth was hot and insistent against your neck, dragging down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone, nipping at your skin just enough to make you whimper.
âBeen thinking about this for so long,â he murmured against your throat, his voice thick, husky, wrecked.
Your breath hitched. âMe too.â
He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark, blown-out, his chest rising and falling as he scanned your face. Checking. Waiting.
You exhaled, chest tight, lips swollen from his kisses.
âI want this, Harry.â Your voice was quiet but firm. âI want you.â
Something in him snapped.
And then, he gave you exactly what you asked for.
And then, he gave you exactly what you asked for.
But not in the way you expected.
Because for all the urgencyâthe heat, the months of unresolved tension stretching between youâHarry didnât rush.
He kissed you slowly, deliberately, his hands steady as they traced the outline of your body, as if he were memorizing you. Like he wanted to savor every second.
And when he finally lifted you into his arms, carrying you effortlessly through the dimly lit hallway, you didnât protest. Didnât question it.
You just let yourself be his.
The bedroom was dark, moonlight pooling in through the window, the sheets cool against your back when he laid you down.
And for a momentâjust a momentâHarry didnât move.
He just looked at you.
His green eyes flickered over your face, your parted lips, the way your chest rose and fell beneath him. His fingers skimmed up your thigh, teasing, light enough to make you shiver, before he leaned down, his lips hovering just over yours.
"Youâre beautiful," he murmured. "You know that, right?"
Your breath caught.
Because it wasnât a line.
He wasnât trying to seduce you. He wasnât saying it just to say it.
He meant it.
And you could feel yourself unraveling beneath him.
"Harryâ"
But your words cut off when he kissed you again, deeper this time, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your sweater, tugging it up, peeling it off with aching slowness.
His hands traced over your bare skin, up your ribcage, over the dip of your waist. His touch was reverent, patientâlike he wanted to learn every inch of you, every soft sound you made when he touched you just right.
Your hands were just as desperate, fingers threading into his curls, tugging lightly as you pressed up into him.
He groaned, breaking the kiss just long enough to yank off his own shirt, tossing it aside before meeting your gaze again.
You exhaled sharply, taking him in.
The tattoos you had only glimpsed before, now completely on displayâthe swallows over his chest, the butterfly below his ribs, the intricate designs that inked his arms, his stomach, his strong, solid frame.
And then, he kissed you again.
Slower this time. Deeper.
His mouth trailed lower, over your collarbone, down the valley between your breasts, his fingers working at the button of your jeans, slipping them down, kissing along every inch of newly exposed skin.
When his lips met the inside of your thigh, you gaspedâgasped, because he was so close to where you needed him, but still taking his damn time.
"Harryâ"
"Shh," he murmured, pressing a kiss higher, his stubble scratching deliciously against your sensitive skin. "Let me take my time with you, love."
And then, he did.
He kissed his way up your thighs, parting them further, his hands gripping your hips as his mouth finallyâfinallyâpressed against you.
You gasped, back arching, fingers tangling into the sheets as he licked into you, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every reaction, every sound that spilled from your lips.
"Fuck," you choked out, hips jerking involuntarily.
He hummed, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through you as his tongue flicked exactly where you needed it, his hands holding you open, steadying you, grounding you.
And when he slipped a finger inside youâjust one, at first, then another, curling them perfectlyâ you nearly came undone.
Your body tightened, the pleasure mounting too fast, too intense, and you could feel itâfeel yourself teetering on the edge.
"Thatâs it," Harry murmured against you, his voice thick with lust and admiration. "Let go for me, love."
And you did.
Your orgasm ripped through you, waves of pleasure rolling through every inch of your body as your hips jerked against his mouth, his tongue not relentingâ**not even for a secondâ**as he worked you through it, letting you fall apart completely.
By the time he finally pulled back, his lips were wet, his pupils blown, his expression completely wrecked.
"You taste fucking perfect," he rasped, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning over you again, caging you in beneath him.
You were still shaking, still catching your breath, but you wanted more.
You needed more.
"Harryâ"
He kissed you before you could finish, swallowing your words as he kicked off his jeans, rolling his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he was for you.
And then, finally, he lined himself up, pausingâjust for a second.
His forehead pressed against yours, his breathing uneven.
"You okay?" he murmured, voice ragged.
"Yes," you breathed. "I want you."
That was all he needed.
And then, he pushed inside you.
A broken sound tore from his throat the second he was buried in youâdeep, slow, perfect.
And youâfuck, you felt everything.
The stretch, the fullness, the delicious ache of him sinking into you, inch by inch, until he was completely inside you.
"Fuck," he groaned, his jaw clenching, his hands gripping your hips so tightly.
He didnât move at first. Just stayed there, letting you adjust, letting you feel him.
And thenâ
Then he pulled out, just enough before thrusting back in, deeper this time.
You gasped, fingers digging into his back, clinging to him.
It was slow at first. Deep and unhurried. Like he wanted to memorize you, like he wanted you to feel all of him.
But thenâ
Then you moaned his name.
And everything changed.
Harry growled, his grip tightening, his pace picking up, thrusting harder, faster, deeper.
"Fuck, Y/Nâ" His voice was wrecked, his body pressing you into the mattress, claiming you, ruining you.
And youâyou didnât care.
You wanted to be ruined.
You wanted all of him.
His hand slipped between you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles that sent shockwaves through you.
"You gonna come again for me, love?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.
"YesâHarryâfuckâ"
"Thatâs it," he groaned. "Come for me."
And you did.
You shattered around him, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, your entire body trembling as he followed right after, burying himself deep, spilling inside you, groaning your name like a prayer.
For a long moment, the room was filled with nothing but harsh breathing, racing heartbeats, the aftermath of something that felt inevitable.
And then, Harry moved.
He didnât pull away. Didnât let you go.
He just wrapped himself around you, holding you close, pressing a kiss to your damp temple.
"Stay," he murmured, voice soft, tender.
And this timeâ
You didnât run.
The smell of coffee woke you before the sunlight did.
Your body was aching in the best way, muscles deliciously sore, the sheets warm and soft against your skin. For a moment, you just laid there, blinking slowly, listening to the faint sounds of movement coming from beyond the bedroom door.
And then you realized.
You werenât alone.
Not in the way you used to be.
Not in the way that had felt permanent for so long.
You exhaled, stretching slightly before sitting up, pulling the duvet tighter around you.
Harryâs shirtâwhich you had shamelessly stolen off the floor at some point during the nightâhung loosely around your shoulders, smelling like him, feeling like him.
You pushed the bedroom door open quietly, stepping into the hall, and followed the sound of voices into the kitchen.
And the sight that greeted you?
It nearly knocked the breath from your lungs.
Harry stood at the stove, clad in nothing but a pair of low-hanging sweatpants, a spatula in one hand, a coffee cup in the other.
And he wasnât alone.
Theo and Lily sat at the kitchen island, chattering away, their legs swinging as they watched him flip pancakes.
Theo snickered. âThat oneâs burnt.â
Harry scoffed, dramatically flipping it onto a plate. âItâs golden brown, thank you very much.â
Lily giggled. âTheo says you always burn the first one.â
Harry smirked. âWell, your mum distracted me.â
At that, you cleared your throat.
Three heads turned toward you in unison.
Theo and Lily grinned.
Harryâs eyes flickered over youâhis shirt swallowing your frame, your bare legs peeking out from underneath.
And then, slowly, he smirked.
âWhat?â you asked, fighting back a smile.
His dimples deepened. âYou like seeing me in dad mode?â
You rolled your eyes, stepping forward to grab a mug from the counter. âI think I just like seeing you.â
Harry stilled for half a second.
And then, with zero warning, he was behind youâwrapping his arms around your waist, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the side of your neck.
Your breath hitched. âHarryââ
âGet used to it, love,â he murmured against your skin.
Your heart stumbled.
And suddenly, you knew.
This was real.
This was yours.
And for the first time in a long, long timeâŠ
You werenât afraid.
â â âź â â
Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like â€ïžâđ„
taglist:
@oscahpastry
@mema10
@angelbabyyy99
@iloveharrystyles04
@cinemharry
@drwho06
@donutsandpalmtrees
@panini
@mads3502
@imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa
@one-sweet-gubler
@rizosrizos26
@ciriceimpera
@everyscarisahealingplace
@hello-heyhi
@sexymfharriet
@lizsogolden
@hannah9921
@chicabonitasblog
@huhidontknowstuff
@berrywoods1245
@jennovaaa
@angeldavis777
@prettygurl-2009
@almostcontentcreator
@run-for-the-hills
âYou will search for me in another person, I promise.â
â Unknown
whispering âI love you, I love you, I love youâ while I rail you senseless and cum in you over and over.
WEđ RESPECT đALL đBODYđ TYPESđ ON đTHIS đBLOG
has anyone done it yet
Started watching Banana Fish based on Tumblr rec and holyyyyy Mollyyyyy a kiss in Epi 3... Wow.
I'm about to get my mind blown isn't it?
Btw I know nothing about the story so no spoilers please đ
Some idiot: "Why are you reading your own fic, that's shallow and stupid"
All fanfic writers and writers everywhere: "Who the fuck do you think I wrote it for?!"


