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@mydarlingdooolll
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hello, I'm @erina00 everything here is related to my writing mainly Bucky fic.
25 witch who is lazy, obsessed with bucky, and searching for the meaning of life.
For me there is water in the glass.
DIVIDERS : @/bhavihelps
Mr. James
dbf!bucky x reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: +18, AU Moder, f!reader, dbf!bucky, Age gap, very detailed kissing?, a little sadness, reader is horny, mention of porn, love at first sight or just physical attraction, smoking Summary: She meets his father's best friend.
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She'd come home for the holidays. She missed her family terribly. They hadn't seen them for months, and conversations were few and far between, everyone busy with their own affairs. He didn't have much time for each other's company, or rather, none at all. The fact that she hadn't found anyone, not even a single soul who didn't know anyone else, was strange. So she spent almost all her time alone in her room, and she hardly saw her co-stars at all. So, returning to her hometown was the only thing he'd been thinking about for the past few weeks.
She knew that before the holidays, there was always her father's birthday, a day that had been neglected by family and friends. She was going to meet her father's new friend, about whom he'd heard little and much at the same time. He described him as a quiet guest, but upon closer inspection, he became more open. He moved in not long after she left for her final year of college. He helped other neighbors, but she always described the look on his face as if he was doing it as a punishment, even though she denied it.
Every time they spoke, her father mentioned him and how she couldn't wait to meet him. However, they didn't mention how handsome he was, even though he was only slightly younger than her parents. And it was clear he was older, but in a way that made him beautiful.
When he saw him, she froze and couldn't stop looking at him, at each of his shoulders, his head, his hands. She couldn't focus on how her father was somehow telling stories about him and James. He just nodded, staring at the tall, large man with dark, curly hair and a well-trimmed beard.
"Mr. James."
Every time her father always added Mr. or Ms. when she spoke to her about her friends, reminding her to respect them. Now she felt something other than respect for James, something she shouldn't have felt.
As she became an adult and began to understand adult things more, she wondered why she never acted like other teenagers. Falling in love with someone at first sight for a week and forgetting, or being forgotten and crying until it happened again. And yet, she wondered what was wrong with her. Not to mention that she felt no sexual attraction to anyone. She could find someone attractive, but she didn't feel the desire to do anything about it. She even saw porn, but that didn't work either and was boring. And simply she knew they where acting, and it made her feel lonely.Until someone started talking about thers dating life, and everything went south because she'd never been with anyone. She'd never even kissed anyone, and no one had ever shown any interest in her. Sometimes she want to cry because of that.
But something had changed, and it was a welcome change, as long as it wasn't an older man, but the worst part was that he was her father's friend. She knew she couldn't do anything about it, because what could she do? Ask James if he wanted to go on a date with her? It was the first time she'd seen him. She didn't believe in love at first sight, but she was beginning to believe that someone could be instantly attractive. Now she just stood there, staring at him, trying to keep her eyes level with his face and not drop lower to his broad shoulders. Along his chest, to his hands holding glasses. She hadn't known that someone's hands, hung higher than hers, could be so attractive. I wonder what they could do-
She quickly returned her gaze to his face, taking a breath and trying to calm herself. She wasn't surprised, however, to find her eyes studying him closely. She knew his expression. She smiled to herself, looking away from him as her father continued to speak, but she hadn't been listening to him for a long time. She looked back at him, their eyes meeting, and he lingered on her for a second too long as he glanced back at his friend. She knew there was something more behind his usual expression, but she didn't know if it was real or just her imagination.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted out, quickly turning in that direction, not waiting for a reaction.
She closed the door behind her and covered her face with her hands. She wanted to escape from what had just happened.
She wasn't sure if this wasn't how everyone felt when they were noticed by someone they liked. She felt like she was in heaven, even though she should have been in hell. She wasn't even surprised that she had a smile on her face that wanted to disappear. She was simultaneously happy and afraid. After all, she was interested in another person, but this was her father's friend, not to mention he was much older.
She walked over to the speaker and only saw her own expression out of the corner of her eye. She bent down to splash the icy water on her face. It cooled her emotions a little, but only a little.
She stared at the sink, her hands clenching around it, and sighed in frustration.
"Why not someone else?"
She took one last breath and opened the door. She was surprised to see James standing before her. They stared at each other for far too long, and she tried to resist the temptation to bring her hand to his face.
"Your father asked if I could see what was taking you so long?" he began to explain nervously.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She took another shaky breath, seeing the worried expression on his face.
"I just…" She began quietly. "Everything's okay. Um… I need…"
She slowly started to close the door, knowing she was making a complete fool of herself, but she didn't know what else to do.
"What's going on?" He stopped the door with his hand, and she felt her muscles stiffen and looked at him, frightened. "Did I do something?"
Yes, you exist. She thought.
"Nothing." She just shook her head. "I just…" She pointed toward the bathroom she was in. She knew her face was burning with her stupidity.
"Tell me, if I did something?" This time, there was worry in his voice. Real worry.
"Really nothing." She raised her voice, desperately trying to wipe away his worried expression. "I really need to use this again." This time her voice wasn't weak, and she just tried to smile to confirm it. "I really did. She didn't do anything. Not my day. Tell her I'll be right there."
Okay." He was clearly unconvinced, but he didn't press the issue and let go of the door. "Bucky. Calls me that, doll."
Her stomach lurched at the nickname.
"Sure." This time she actually smiled, even wider than she wanted, and she wanted to jump for joy. Even scream.
He stopped the door again, and she saw something in his expression, something she didn't quite grasp. But before she could ask, he opened the door wider, and she began to back away as he began to enter the hanging room. The question was written on her face, but she also felt something jump in her stomach, especially when the door closed behind her. The lock.
He glanced at her, and she saw something dangerous in his eyes. She'd never seen anyone with so many emotions etched on their faces, and perhaps she could easily read him.
She felt his warm, large hand on her cheek and gave in easily, nuzzling her face. For seconds, her body was working automatically, and when she realized what was happening, she quickly pulled away.
"I…"
This time, he grabbed her in both hands, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. He didn't say anything, just stared at her silently, not at her body, her skin, her lips, just her eyes. It was more intimate than anything she'd experienced in her life. She could have drowned in his light blue eyes, which reminded her of a calm ocean. And he was so calm, waiting, though she didn't know what was happening, or rather, her mind couldn't comprehend it all.
But it was she who broke eye contact first when she glanced at his lips. She quickly fled, embarrassed by her behavior. Of course, it was impossible to see, and only he moved closer to her until their noses touched. She smelt his wrists, suffocating at the closeness, the way he smelled. Not a strong perfume like most men, but something delicate, even sweet. But all her attention was focused on his breath and she hadn't expected the smell of papers. She loved and hated it at the same time.
She raised her eyes and saw a nervous question in it. Just to confirm what she wanted, she moved a little closer to him, but their lips still didn't meet. Until he leaned in even closer and she felt it on hers. She hadn't known something like that could be so pleasant, it made her feel alive again. The taste of cigarettes and cherries lingered on her lips. She thought he drank alcohol like everyone else, but it was a pleasant surprise when it turned out he was doing it deliberately. It gave her butterflies.
He deepened the kiss, but not so much that it overwhelmed her, but rather to explore what he could do next. She wasn't sure if he could easily tell it was her first kiss, because she wasn't sure what to do next, so she tried to open her mouth wider. This encouraged him to slide his tongue across her lips. He tried to mirror his movement, but she felt him give him control, and he placed one of his hands on her back to pull her closer. She put her hands on his shirt, just to grip onto something, as he began kissing her waistband, which began to engulf her as she felt the cold sink behind him.
He slid his hand from her back, lower, along her hips, until he touched her ass. He didn't squeeze, just held her there. He pulled back for a second to catch his breath, then returned without wasting time. This time, she felt the power in his hand as he grabbed the back of her head and held her, as he tried to pull away to catch his breath. She felt him groan against her lips, and she couldn't stop the shivers in her body. He didn't want this to ever end.
She felt her own panties stick to clit, and she instinctively began to rub her hips together. She felt him push his leg between hers until she felt herself buck against his body. She moaned so loudly in the aftermath that she felt his body press harder against hers. She felt his hand leave her head and slide down, until he tucked it under her shirt.
"Honey, what's going on? And where's Jame?"
Everything was shattered when she heard her mother's voice from the doorway. They both froze and realized what was happening. They separated quickly, breathing heavily. She heard a knock.
"Honey?"
"Everything's okay." She could barely speak, trying to speak normally, but her cracked voice gave everything away.
"You don't sound well."
"Really, everything's okay." She sounded better this time. "I think James went out for a smoke." She saw the person her mother was looking for trying to hide a smile, she trying too.
"Okay. But—"
"It's just my period." She felt her face grow warm.
"Okay. If you need anything, just tell me." Of course she was worried.
"Okay. I'll be right there."
She heard a footstep disappearing behind the door, staring at Bucky, whose face was filled with various emotions. Guilt was the most obvious, and she felt like crying.
dividers by @dollywons & @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
One shot
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You're too drunk to stand on your own two feet.
a small gift (11.1k) - fluff, angst
One day you received a gift from a stranger and with each passing day you received more and more gifts…
longing looks (1.2k) - angst
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Mr. James (2k) +18
She meets his father's best friend.
DIVIDERS : @/bhavihelps
a small gift
bucky x reader Word Count: 11.1k Warnings:: au mafia; fluf; angst; mafia!bucky; little a bit stalker!bucky; barista!reader; soft!bucky; f!reader; brif mens of clouse; shy!reader; use of nickname: sweetheart, doll; Summary: One day you received a gift from a stranger and with each passing day you received more and more gifts…
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The last thing you wanted was to search for a gift that couldn't please anyone, but you always have to find excuses to please someone at your own expense. However, you didn't want to show up empty-handed, as it bothered no one. Except perhaps yourself.
As you walked, you noticed a flower shop with flowers that looked beautiful. The colors blended beautifully, revealing nothing about the fragrance. The sweet scent delighted your nostrils as you approached. You didn't look inside, just stared. Perhaps it was a gift you could give, but you weren't sure how much it would cost. You didn't want a full bouquet, but three flowers would look sad next to each other.
You didn't touch the flower petals, you just approached them and inhaled.
Pink tulips.
You froze, realizing you couldn't buy them after seeing the price.
Luckily, you didn't see anyone nearby, and without even checking, you quickly walked away. You shouldn't have been embarrassed, but you felt it anyway. It was a silly feeling that also reminded you of how long ago you'd received the flowers.
College.
Which you didn't want to go back to. Which you hadn't even finished, let alone paid off, which you were still paying off to this day. You didn't even know why you went to college, or rather, you did. But you didn't want to think about it, not even about it.
Now you were reminded of your ex-boyfriend, whom you didn't want to think about either.
But before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, which were weighing even more heavily on your mind, someone interrupted you.
"These are for you."
You glanced at the man in front of you. Tall, very tall. You didn't want to say you'd never seen anyone that tall, and that would be a lie, because you'd probably met someone, even knew who.
Don't think about it. You repeated to youself.
Beautiful, handsome. You weren't sure how to assess this person before you. Dressed in dark colors, a little too elegantly. Too elegant. Longish brown hair, a well-trimmed beard. But his eyes. Beautiful blue eyes. Reminiscent of a calm sea. But his gaze was strange. There was something behind them. Curiosity? Softness? Or maybe danger. You weren't sure. Or maybe you didn't want to know.
Only after a moment did you realize he was holding something in his hands. You glanced at what he had in them and were surprised to see the flowers. The very ones you wanted to buy. The ones you almost touched. The ones you saw moments ago. You glanced back at the stranger and weren't entirely sure what to do, or rather, what to say.
"Thank you, but I can't accept this." You said timidly, nervously shifting the bag on your shoulder, trying to guess your own feelings.
"And I insisted." "He pushed the gift closer to you. It was almost as if they were already in your arms. "Something beautiful for a beautiful lady."
You stood there, staring at him. Pleasant shivers ran down your spine, and you smiled shyly. You looked away from his penetrating gaze. You felt warmth begin to envelop your face.
"Thank you," you said, but you didn't reach for the flowers. You wanted to reach for them, but…
You hadn't received such a compliment in a long time. Not even from a handsome man. You have fallen so low.
"Accepting them would be a thank you, sweetheart."
You looked at him, surprised when he used that word, because a stranger wouldn't say such things.
"We've known each other for five seconds." It sounded an octave higher than you intended.
"That's enough for me." His self-confident smile was starting to intimidate you with each passing second.
Now you saw that he was older than you, but not so much that it bothered you. You weren't young yourself, but you were definitely younger than him.
It would still make it seem like something was wrong with him, but you weren't sure what. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, almost too intensely, with that smile. Softly, when he looked at you with a slightly chilled expression. As if he saw something in you that you couldn't. Maybe you forgotten what it was like to have someone look at you.
Truly see you.
"These flowers suit you very well. Here." He practically shoved them into your hand, and you couldn't do anything about it.
"They're beautiful." You glanced at them as you said it.
"Just like you."
You glanced at him quickly, trying not to cringe at his words, and returned your gaze to the flowers.
You let out a fake laugh.
"You probably say that a lot." You said before biting your tongue.
"No. Only to you." You glanced at him. He smiled at you as he spoke those words.
You felt yourself melt inside. You gripped the bouquet tightly.
But he began to look, somewhere behind you.
"I have to. See you later."
Before you could do or say anything, he quickly moved away from you. You stood in the middle of the sidewalk in shock, unsure of what had just happened. Your brain needed time to process everything, where your body was, you already knew everything. What a strange, new sensation began to invade your body.
A very, very handsome older man, complimenting you. He gave you flowers. For no reason.
You felt strangely grateful, though you didn't want to accept anything about it so quickly, but the smile on your face said otherwise. You felt your stomach tighten as you glanced at the flowers, because they were the same ones you seen earlier. And as you returned home, you told yourself it was just a coincidence, and even if it wasn't, he probably saw you looking at them. Sometimes that happens, after all.
You've completely forgotten why you even went shopping.
You were just standing behind the counter and didn't expect to see him. The very next day. At your place of work, smiling at you when he saw you. Just like yesterday.
Coincidence, right?
"We meet again." He didn't even say hello.
"Yes…" You said a little late. "What can I get you?" You asked politely, trying to resist his gaze, which made you feel small.
"I'll take your word for it?" he said, leaning against the counter and tilting his head slightly in your direction.
"What do you like?" You asked, trying to sound professional.
"You decide. I think whatever you choose will be good."
You glanced at him for a moment wary. You knew what he was trying to convey with his words, but as you can see, things don't always work. Just like now. Maybe he sounded too much like a man who does too much.
"I don't think so. Not everyone likes the same things." You said it more to yourself than to him.
"Let's find out. What do you recommend?"
You sighed, a little dissatisfied, and glanced at the menu, which you were already familiar with, but you tried to buy yourself some time. Not because you couldn't hold his gaze, behind which there were too many hidden things.
"Icelate?"
"And dessert?"
"Croissant?" It was the first thing that caught your eye.
"And what do you usually get?"
You glanced at him. You were very, very sure he was flirting with you. You tried to ignore it every time. Not only because you had little experience with it, but also because it had been years since you remembered how it worked, though it should have been obvious. You weren't sure if you wanted to get involved either, even if it was nice to have someone notice you. However, you felt a certain distance within yourself. Maybe it was just nerves.
You told him, ignoring your feelings.
"Are you sure?" You asked, looking at him questioningly.
"Yes. I like trying new things." He paid, and you wanted to give him the change. "Keep the change."
"It's actually a hundred dollars." You laughed nervously.
"I know, keep it."
Your eyebrows shot up, and you wanted to give it back to him, but he interrupted you.
"A tip." He said without even looking at you, because he was staring at something behind the window, but when you looked, you couldn't see anything.
"Have you worked here long?"
Your gaze shifted from the window to him.
"Yes." You tried to fill his order as quickly as possible. "Two years." You added after a moment, for reasons unseen.
"It must be nice working in a place like this."
You glanced at him, but you couldn't read much into his expression. Was he interested in knowing more about you, or was he just trying to fill the silence between you?
"It's alright. The area is safe."
He didn't ask another question, just watched you. You tried to ignore him, but it was hard when he didn't even try to hide it. You wanted to tell him to stop, but you didn't want to deprive him of the satisfaction of it, not knowing how he would react. But you also felt ashamed, knowing how those words would sound. You were trapped.
He seemed pleased with the turn of events; perhaps he even noticed your discomfort, how you tried to hide your glances at him when he smiled at you.
"Good." He responded to your words, surprising you. He glanced around the room and then looked in your direction again. "If anyone starts causing trouble, tell me. I'll take care of them."
"What?"
You looked at him, not hiding your shock.
The words sounded like a threat, though their meaning was far more dangerous. You didn't know if it was a warning to you or for you. His relaxed expression seemed to suggest otherwise, but you didn't know how. You didn't harbor any animosity, or rather, you didn't know if you did. You could count on one hand the number of people you'd met, the ones you knew. You didn't think any customer you might have served poorly would want to do anything to you.
"Just tell me if anyone bothers you." There was no hint of hostility in his voice. As if what he was saying was a simple conversation about the weather. "And especially when you're coming home late alone." He finished, seeing your expression.
You placed his order, practically knocking everything down, and without waiting for his words, you quickly headed for the back.
"My name is Bucky."
You stopped and looked at him over your shoulder. But you didn't say anything, hiding from his gaze.
You started rearranging things, just to avoid attracting the attention of the manager, who was sitting in the next room. He could look over at any moment and see you.
You didn't want to dwell on his words and tried to ignore them, but all you could hear were his words ringing in your ears. You didn't want to admit to yourself that at first, when he said the first part, it was even charming, but the next part made your blood run cold. You don't say things like that and you'll get a normal reaction. Take care of. Which you didn't even know what it meant. Maybe if he said it differently. You would have even smiled, but he didn't have to say it that way.
You might be overthinking it. Probably. Right?
Unfortunately for you, you finished everything and had to go back to the counter. Luckily, you could breathe a sigh of relief when you saw he was gone, but there was something lying by the cash register. You knew what it was.
Pink tulips.
The same flowers he gave you yesterday, and you didn't even notice he was carrying them. You were more preoccupied with him than with the gift.
The next day, he arrived at the same time. You barely set foot behind the counter when he was already there, waiting.
As always, dressed in more than averagely elegant attire, you didn't want to dwell on his job for too long. Not realizing that it was also noon, but not lunchtime. You didn't expect him to be an average businessman who came to an average looking cafe.
You felt like the only reason he been here twice more than he should have was because of you. But only twice.
This time, you noticed the flowers. The same ones as yesterday and when you first met.
When his eyes saw you, his face lit up with joy, like a puppy. Which, of course, affected you more than it should have. His eyes warmed and softened. You felt a warm sensation spread through your body.
His words yesterday seemed more distant than you wanted them to be.
"Hi." He said first, leaning closer to you with his whole body so you could see his handsome face. "These are for you." He placed the flower in front of you. "I didn't give them to you straight away yesterday, but you ran away quickly." You felt warmth spread across your face despite yourself, and you weren't sure what you could read in his voice. Regret. Sadness. Just directed at you, to blame you, or at himself? You weren't sure. "And please, the same as yesterday." He didn't wait for you to say anything.
"You shouldn't give me flowers every time." You shoved the bill in your hand, trying to ignore his gaze, which was watching you with far too much intensity. "And you shouldn't say things like that." It shouldn't have sounded quiet, but you weren't controlling your voice at that moment.
Maybe a little scared.
You tried to ignore your own fear, which was creeping up on you despite yourself, but who could blame you, considering how his words sounded yesterday?
He's been looking at you for a moment.
"I know, but I'd rather you know I'm here if you need help." He spoke these words thoughtfully, to reassure you of his intentions. Don't apologize, and he didn't even look like one. "I don't want anything to happen to you."
You glanced at him from the counter, observing him carefully and pondering his words, which didn't exactly bring you much relief.
"You shouldn't say things like that."
"What do you mean? Because I'm not sure what you're getting at." He added the last sentence, seeing your questioning look.
You didn't want to say anything, knowing how it might sound, and somehow you didn't want to upset him, even if he didn't do anything. You just worded your words unconventionally.
You looked away before you could say anything. You didn't want to see his reaction when you whispered.
"As if someone were going to do something to me…" The uncertainty was evident in your voice, as was the nervousness.
"Nobody's going to hurt you." He said abruptly before you could finish a words, glancing at him sideways. His serious voice only confirmed his expression. "I won't allow it." He stood there, only to further confirm his words, and you felt small inside you. His seriousness shouldn't have surprised you, considering his appearance and the way he dressed, but his soft demeanor contrasted somewhat with his current demeanor.
You weren't sure how to interpret this.
Your expression was unconvinced. At least, that's what you thought. Maybe you had a slightly frightened look on your face as well, as his expression softened and relaxed.
"I'm serious." They leaned toward you again as you handed him what he ordered, pushing the flowers toward you. You wanted to give him the change you'd forgotten about for a moment. You should get a grip. "Keep it." He said, taking his order in his hand.
But he didn't start to leave, just looked at you again.
"You have good taste." He gestured towards what he held in his hands. "I think I'll be coming here every day, and not just for the food, but for you too, sweetheart." It was a promise.
Seeing your reaction, how your face began to heat up without your consent, he moved to leave, not even waiting for what you had to say.
You sighed, irritated at yourself, at him, and at the entire station.
At yourself for how you couldn't control yourself and how his words affected you. At him for never letting you get a word in edgewise. At how he always kept you in a corner and wouldn't let you escape. At stations where he had little influence on how things turned out.
There should have been a two-way conversation, but everything was coming from him, and you weren't sure you wanted to hear your opinion on anything. You wondered if he was the only one who found your looks attractive. Was that all he saw in you? Pretty face. It was still nice when someone appreciated your looks, but did that mean your personality meant nothing? Did he have your mind set on what kind of person you were, so he wouldn't let you get a word in?
Maybe it was an accident. Maybe you think too much. Too many of those things, maybe.
You felt a knot in your stomach, though you shouldn't. You had to remember that he was a man first, and like every man, he preferred to focus on himself and what he wanted, not on you.
You wasn't surprised when he showed up again the next day. Again with the same flowers. You felt like your apartment was turning into a flower shop. So you had to do somehow to convince him not to give you any more.
"You know, you don't have to give them to me every time." You said, taking care of his order.
"I want. They suit you. They're just as beautiful as you."
You bit your lip to hold back the smile that was starting to appear despite yourself. You took a breath, trying to control yourself, and focused your gaze on something else. This time, there was no one in the cafee. The middle of the week.
"I'm talking series. I have no room for them." You sighed, ignoring his words and saying what you honestly meant.
"Okay." he said, and this time you didn't see the smile, but before you could thank him, he forced it on you. "So what do you like? Jewelry? Gold? Silver? A bracelet? A necklace? Makeup? Or maybe some clothes?"
You glanced at him quickly, your mouth hanging open. You were speechless.
"Wait. What?"
"No. Maybe shoes—"
"No. Slow down." You gestured for him to stop. "Do you want to give me another gift?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I just want to give it to you."
"That's not an answer."
"It is. I just want to give it to you, so you'll remember me."
"Uh… I don't think it works that way."
"What didn't work that way?"
"Giving gifts. You're supposed to give someone something to remind them of you. Something meaningful, and not the first thing you see. Not to mention that we don't really know each other." You wanted to add that you wasn't sure if you wanted to, but you held back.
He studied your facial expression with his eyes for far too long, because his order was waiting on the counter. He didn't move, just watched you. He didn't say anything. There were no customers, so you couldn't tell him he hold the line.
"Would you like to go on a date with me?" He said as he leaned against the counter with his sly smile.
"That was nice, but I don't have time for that kind of thing." You tried to sound as polite as possible. You hid behind a smile, hoping he get the hint.
"You said i didn't know anything about you." He began slowly. "So you can find out."
"I know, but—"
"Please." He looked at you with his puppy eyes. "Or I could bring you a nice bracelet."
"Are you trying to bribe me?" You gave him a pointed look.
"Maybe?" He was amused by this station, and even by you. "Which one do you prefer?"
"I really don't have a choice?" You asked, even knowing how he would answer, though his eyes spoke louder than words. "Okay." You sighed. "A date. But I don't have time until next week."
"Maybe after work today?"
"No—"
"You doesn't have to change. You look good. We'll just have a nice time."
"Don't you have a job?" You gave him a suspicious look.
"I work for myself. I can take time off whenever I want."
"Okey, but I'm finishing late."
"What time?"
You didn't want to say anything. And just stare at each other.
You knew you should look away, because you felt your heart begin to beat faster with each passing second. You felt yourself beginning to drown in the depths of his blue eyes. You didn't want to, because you felt seen in a way you'd never been seen before. He didn't look away, just stared at yours, contentedly, from the turn of the station.
But you knew that the longer you looked at him, a strange smile began to bloom on your face. You knew you lost.
"At eight." You said, averting his gaze.
"I'll be here at eight." There was no judgment in his voice, or any other unpleasant feeling. Only a sense of freedom.
You ignored the fact that you weren't entirely convinced to go to dinner with him. Remembering how he wouldn't let you get a word in edgewise, you felt your hands freeze.
He didn't care.
He still wanted to get to know you. Maybe you were an idiot.
You didn't know if he noticed the change in your demeanor, and even if he did, he didn't comment.
"See you later, sweetheart." He said, smiling softly at you before turning to leave.
When you finished your shift, you went outside, and you knew he was waiting for you, leaning against a car you didn't know the brand of. However, you were absolutely certain it was one of the more expensive ones. Not the sporty ones that rich people drive just to show off, but one of those very elegant ones.
You knew he had money, but you still felt an uncontrollable urge to retreat into yourself. You felt dirty. Very conscious of your appearance. You weren't sweating, but you were tired, after standing on your feet all day and dealing with unfortunate clients. You were an ordinary person with a quiet, humble life. You shouldn't feel that way, but you did. Not to mention the fact that you'd never done what you wanted. You didn't work where you wanted. You're stuck in a job you wanted to quit, but you didn't have the courage, let alone what you wanted to do next.
"Nice car." You said, trying to ignore the overwhelming emotions that were starting to occupy your mind.
"Not as nice as you." He opened the passenger door for you.
"There's a restaurant just up the road. We can walk." He scoffed at his words, knowing you didn't want to get into Bucky's car, or rather, the stranger you only exchanged a few sentences with.
He glanced at you, holding the door, and seemed like he might disagree, but he steeled himself and closed it again.
"Okay." He said calmly as he approached you. "Leading, sweetheart."
You did as he said. For almost the entire ride, neither of you spoke. You just watched him from afar, his usual expression revealing nothing. You weren't sure if he was happy with the station, or if he had some plan and you'd ruined it. You shouldn't have thought about it so much, considering how familiar you were, although it is a weak word to describe your current situation.
The silence that reigned between you wasn't awkward, but it wasn't comfortable enough for you to relax either. You couldn't quite shake the awkward silence, so you managed to say the first thing that came to mind.
"What do you do for work?" he asked, trying to sound casual, glancing sideways at him.
"Business." You waited to see if he would elaborate when you reached the restaurant.
"That doesn't tell me much." You walked in and immediately felt the stink of fried meat.
"Because there's not much to say. Boring job." he said, looking around the room.
A spacious place in a warm red and brown. Not reminiscent of any of the other typical restaurants, not those modern ones that look like offices you'd rather run away from than eat dinner.
A waitress arrived, who, as soon as she laid eyes on Bucky, became much nicer than before, and she led you to the table.
"Every job is boring. Most of it, anyway." you corrected yourself. "So, don't tell me anything more?" you asked as the woman disappeared to get your drinks.
"Like I said, nothing that would interest you." He smiled at you, and as always, his gaze was focused on yours.
"Sure." You said to himself, tearing his gaze away from him for a moment, unable to bear his penetrating gaze any longer. "So…" You pondered yours next question. "How do you like this place?" You glanced around to emphasize his point.
"Nice place." He just glanced around quickly, not even paying attention, and looked back at you as if he couldn't look away. "Not like you."
You just glanced at him, accepting his words.
"Thank you."
"You don't have to." He smiled wider, causing you to return the gesture. "My pleasure."
Before he could answer, the waitress returned with drinks and menus.
She started to say something about the main courses, but you didn't pay much attention to her words, only to your menu. You didn't eat here often enough to remember every dish, but you also didn't want to order something else and not eat it. So he stuck to his gun when you gestured to the waitress, who was standing near Buacky, but he wasn't paying her any attention. He was looking at the menu and as soon as he looked up in your direction, he smiled cautiously at the waitress.
"She wants to order." He said to her.
"Oh." A red tint appeared on her cheeks, and she turned to you with an apologetic smile.
You said to her what you always order and disappeared from your line of sight.
"Do you come here often?"
You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and you chuckled under his breath.
"What?" he asked, confused by your reaction
"Nothing, just…" You realized he hadn't done it on purpose, he'd actually asked the question.
"What's the matter? Don't hide anything from me."
You looked at him, sighing, trying to contain yours amusement.
"I'm serious. It's nothing." You took a breath. "Do you like cats?" You quickly changed the subject.
"Yes." He let it go, though his gaze suggested they weren't finished yet. "I has a cat." He pulled out his phone to show you a picture of a white cat. "Her name is Alipe."
"She's adorable." You couldn't contain your excitement.
"Do you have any pets?" "He asked, praising his phone.
"No, but I'd like to," you said, a little strained. You barely had enough money to support yourself, and what's more, an animal.
"If you want, you can come see her."
You straightened up.
"I don't think so—"
"She might scratch you. She doesn't like strangers. But you'll get used to it over time, if you give her time." He interrupted you before she could finish her sentence. Again. When he wanted something he probably didn't want to hear.
"Maybe some other time." You smiled fakely.
You fell silent whenever he spoke, practically paying you compliments he pretended not to hear, even though they were expressive.
It was overwhelming when someone didn't want to hear what you had to say. You had that all the time in his job. Dealing with clients who think you don't have your own thoughts, your own feelings, and are there to agree with them. You hated it, but you had to endure it. The only good thing about it was that you were paid for it, but now. When you was here willingly, or rather, somewhat forced to be here, and treated this way. But here, you should have known you could fight for what was right, and you intended to.
"You know how I have something to say too." You started, interrupting him. "You know, I recently got out of a long relationship." You only half-lied. "I don't know if it'll work."
"You don't know until you try."
"No. I'm not interested. I'm sorry." You replied quickly, despite the fact that you shouldn't.
"Who said we have to be together? Just hang out like this. Have dinner together and that's it." He placed his hand on yours. You didn't pull it away, just stared at your hands.
"You know." You slowly pulled your hand from his, hiding it under the tablecloth. "That's nice, but really—"
"Before you say anything further, I want to say something." You pressed your lips together into a thin line. "I don't want anything from you, except company, just like you are now." He added, seeing your expression. "Nothing more. I enjoy your company."
"You know, you've been hanging out for hours, over the past… three days." You said slowly, searching for words. "And you still know nothing about me, and I about yours."
"That's why we're here, to change that, sweetheart." He said softly.
"I know, but." You looked down at your hands.
"How long were you in that relationship?" You glanced at him when he said those words, only because it was clearly a difficult question for him.
You fell silent for a moment, watching him clench his jaw, trying to hide his negative feelings behind a smile. You should be the one feeling this way, not him. You answered him anyway.
"Ten years." You looked away. You didn't want to talk about it himself. It was a long ten years of your life, which you tried to forget, even though you should have accepted it and moved on, but it was too much.
"A long time." He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. "How long ago did it end?"
You looked at him uncertainly, yours hand clenching.
"Two years ago…" You muttered.
"I know I shouldn't say this, but this relationship ended two years ago. And understandably, ten years is a long time." He seemed to be struggling to find the right words so as not to offend or hurt you. At least, that's how you interpreted his expression, which was serious at the moment. "But sometimes you can meet someone new."
"Like you?" You rolled your eyes, so you knew exactly what he was offering.
"Maybe."
Before you could continue your conversation, the waitress arrived with your orders, placing them in front of you and marking them at the speed of light. She seemed to understand the hint.
"Do you blame me? You're beautiful, and I want to know you."
You rolled your eyes again, sighing as you began to eat.
"Many people are beautiful."
"Not true."
"True."
"Who?"
"That waitress, for example." You gestured with his fork toward the kitchen.
"She doesn't matter," he assured you, looking you straight in the eye.
You looked at him, surprised by the sudden reaction.
"Okay." you said slowly, watching him as he relaxed at your words.
"I don't even know your name." Amusement crept into his words. "And I still want to get to know you."
You stopped your fork mid-way when he said those words and realized he was right. You weren't sure if you were angry at yourself for letting someone ask you out without even asking your name, or at him. You didn't even know where you'd missed it. Something so simple.
You set your fork down on your plate, but you didn't put it down and introduced yourself. He said your name, wondering, examining the sound. They were searching for something. You couldn't wipe the smile off yours face when you heard him say those words, so you bit her lip.
"It suits you. As beautiful as you are." He smiled, and you looked away from him, embarrassed, even if it was just a name.
The rest of the evening was quiet with casual questions between the two of us. It wasn't strange to want to meet someone, but it was strange that it didn't bother you as much as it had at first. You knew he wasn't just some man who'd just invited you to dinner, but someone who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to show it. It was, is, overwhelming, with each subsequent word, you didn't feel as crushed as you had at first. You also knew you could spend your time with someone else rather than alone in an empty apart,emt, scrolling through your phone. You didn't feel that strange loneliness you sometimes felt, even when you were in the company of others, but now it was different. And you didn't want to admit it to yourself, lest it change.
Still, you felt a little disappointed when he didn't answer some of your questions directly. You managed to ignore it, knowing he'd been avoiding answers himself, and opening up to new people could be a pleasant experience.
"You know, maybe…" You said uncertainly, though you shouldn't have. "Sometimes you interrupt me when I'm saying something." You glanced at him over your plate, watching his reaction. "Especially when you don't want to hear something."
He stared at you with an unreadable expression, and the only thing you could deduce was that he was wondering when you saw the frown on his forehead.
"I'm sorry." For the first time, he looked away from you, unable to hold your gaze, even though there was nothing unpleasant behind it. It was a new, strange, pleasant feeling that you quickly buried. You didn't understand yourself.
"It's fine." You said automatically. "Just don't do it, okay?"
"Okay?"
"But you know…" You rolled his eyes. "Okay."
You said without knowing what you wanted to say, seeing the pleasantly surprised expression on his face that unnerved you, and went back to your plate. Seeing yours reaction, he smiled smugly, but said nothing, just watched you.
Before you started arguing with him about splitting the bill, he'd already paid for everything, which shocked you, because you didn't even know when he'd done it. So, you just said you'd pay your half for dinner late, he ignored you completely. You didn't have the energy to argue with him, it was late and you had to get up for work tomorrow, so you left the topic for tomorrow.
You was surprised at how quickly you accepted that you'd see him at the same time tomorrow. It was quick. Too quick, but seeing a familiar face, not counting people you work with, first thing in the morning, and someone you liked, was nice.
"I'll walk you home." He offered himself. "It's late and you shouldn't be driving alone."
He started to explain before you could say anything, wanting to drive you, but you refused because you didn't live far. Maybe you shouldn't have said that, but it was too late to bite your tongue.
As you gays walked toward your apartment, you tried to hide your yawn, you knew it was already your bedtime.
"We should drive." He didn't hide it well enough.
"Um… Just a little bit more." you said, embarrassed.
When you got there, you stopped in front of your building.
"It's here." You said carefully. "Thanks for dinner."
"My pleasure." You returned his smile tiredly, but he didn't move.
"So… see you tomorrow?" You asked uncertainly, and you didn't move yourself.
"As always." He stood there, staring at you with his dangerous blue eyes. "Can I hug you?"
That threw you off balance and you looked at him with wide eyes. It was a direct question, to something so simple and complicated at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. You felt your body begin to warm, your heart begin to race, and your stomach lurch. It wasn't a new feeling, yet you felt as if it were.
You nodded confidently, not trusting your voice, watching as his hopeful eyes turned to pure joy, and before you knew it, he had you in his arms. You gasped in surprise when he did so, and instinctively tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you, tightening his grip even more. Not enough to stop you from breathing, but enough to keep you from moving. He rested his cheeks against your head and inhaled deeply.
"You smell so nice."
You freeze when he said those words.
It should have creepy you up, but it didn't. But at the same time, you wanted to, and didn't want to, tell him that you probably smell bad after work. Although you stood there motionless, waiting for something, the longer you stood there, the more he began to brighten up in spite of himself. You didn't want to admit to yourself how nice it felt to have someone hug you. And you weren't sure if he even wanted to let you go.
The warmth of his body warmed you, in a pleasant way you weren't sure how to describe, or rather, you didn't want to. Maybe you wanted to stand there in the middle of the sidewalk, only knowing you were increasingly reluctant to move.
His hand moved, and he began to slowly stroke your back. Slowly. He gently explored your space. You stilled for a moment when he started, but after a few more strokes, you relaxed again, and seeing your reaction, he didn't stop. You felt him smile against your skin, seeing the effect his actions had on you. He didn't seem to want to stop. You didn't want him to stop.
You slowly move your hands hesitantly, stopping before returning the hug, burying your face in his neck, trying to ignore the scent of his perfume.
You only told yourself it was premature, for such an intimate display of honor, simply because you'd only known each other for a few hours, but the way he affected you now was incredible. Terrifying. Because now you felt as if he had power over you and yet didn't, as if you were the most fragile being in existence, someone he should have protected and wanted to protect. You didn't know how it was that you could show someone your feelings in such a simple way. Like now, his body holding you with both gentleness and strength, overwhelming you. You wanted to run away, but you also wanted to stay. But you only tightened your grip to ground yourself, trying to control your own emotions, which were racing in different directions. Screaming for you to do something, but you just stood there, allowing a virtual stranger to hold you securely in his arms and stroke your back.
"I’ve got you..."
He whispered in your ear, keeping his voice low with a softness that gripped your heart.
These words shouldn't have had such an impact on you, but they did.
Pressing yourself into his body even further if that were possible and holding onto him as you tried to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes. You shouldn't feel this way. Not with someone you don't know at all.
You didn't consider herself the type to show physical affection. Appreciate the soft touch of another person.
You heard knocking at the door, and for a moment, you didn't know how you found yourself in bed, in your apartment, but then the events of last night hit you.
You were on a date. We chatted, ate dinner, he walked you home, and…
You felt a pang of shame wash over you, but it didn't last long, you heard the bell ring again.
You quickly grabbed your phone to see what time it was. You sighed in relief when you saw it wasn't even seven.
You sighed in frustration, rubbed your face with your hand, and dragged yourself out of bed. A shiver ran down your spine as you left your haven and threw on your sweatshirt.
As you approached the door, the only person you could think of who might come to you so early was your neighbor. She always came to you to help with something, and every time you couldn't refuse her because she was a terrible person, and even if you tried to find an excuse, she still found a way to help her, because who would help an old lady?
You were even warned by other neighbors not to help her because you couldn't escape from her. You helped her once, and two years later, you're still doing it. Without thinking much, without wondering how you looked, she opened the door, and your eyes met Bucky's.
"Hi, I brought you breakfast."
He raised his hands in confirmation, one a paper bag, the other a paper cup.
You stared at him with your eyes open.
You blinked. Once. Second time. But it wasn't a dream. He stood before you with his usual expression, and you'd only just gotten out of bed. You were very conscious of how you looked now.
"Can I come in?" he asked before you closed the door in his face.
"Uh… yeah…"
You said before biting your tongue. Why won't your mouth obey your reasonWhy your mouth won't listen to your mind?
You nodded off so he could come into your apartment.
"Take your shoes off," you said, before he delved deeper into your small commotion and only watched you for a few seconds, long enough for you to wonder what he meant, but he did as you asked.
He didn't hide the fact that he was looking at your space. You felt a little overwhelmed. Not only because of his appearance, but also because of how easily he made himself at home.
It wasn't a huge apartment, but it was enough for you. It had a combined kitchen and living room,one bedroom, and a bathroom next to it. There wasn't much in the room, except for a table, chairs, and a sofa that had already been there when you moved in. Beyond that, there was a bookshelf with books and other decorations you collected over the years, the pillows adorning your sofa, a coffee table with a flower he given you, which was also on the table. A small rug underneath. There were no paintings or photos on the walls. You rented the place, but even then, you didn't have anything to hang. It wasn't much, but at least it was yours.
You tried to discreetly fix your hair as he stood with his back to you, setting things down on the table.
"Nice place," he said as he turned his eyes in your direction, noticing your hand movement and laughing, knowing what you were doing.
You felt warmth surround your face.
"You know, maybe next time you doesn't come at this hour." you tried to sound irritated, but it didn't come off.
"Maybe."
You've just realized one thing.
"How did it know which one of my apartments it was?" You asked with a detached tone, unsure of the answer.
"It knocked on every door and asked about you."He seemed proud of it.
You sucked in a breath, not believing his words.
"At this hour? Bucky," you groaned in frustration.
"I have to know where you live." You looked at him with pity.
"It can wait until I get to work."
"No, it can't wait to see you, doll."
"It's new." You said your thoughts aloud.
"Don't you like it?"
"I said new, not that I don't like it." You couldn't believe waht you were saying.
"That good." He smiled at you. "You should eat something." He nodded towards the tables. "I brought you what you like."
Most of breakfast was silent, but not the kind that made you wonder what was happening, or rather, how much more comfortable it was than it should have been. He watched you the entire time, not seeming to notice anything else, and maybe you'd gotten used to it, because you didn't feel that strange fear in your body.
When you finished, he slowly got ready to leave your apartment and turned to face you.
"I wanted to drvingt you to work, but I can't." He didn't hide the disappointment you could hear as he sighed, his face reminding you of the sad puppy. You almost wanted to move away, tell him he that was fine and he would do it next time. You froze at yours own thoughts. "It was really nice to spend that time with you." The sadness was still there, but before you could do anything, he took a step towards you, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, though he didn't touch you. Even though he kept eye contact with you all the time, this time you felt like him looking directly at your soul. "You're looking so beautiful. I want to look at you every day like that."
You literally felt your face burning, and all you could do was stare at him, who was so pleased with your reaction. It seemed he wanted to do something, touch you, hug you, even kiss you, but you didn't know it when he quickly said goodbye, leaving you there.
You were hoping for a quiet day with no problems, but you were.
At first, you thought that once you pointed out the arguing, they might calm down, and they did for a moment. You heard the voices rise again at the other table. You couldn't quite make out their conversation, which was mostly in Russian.
However, you had to silence them again, because Kate didn't want to interfere, but you didn't blame her either. The older man's appearance didn't encourage conversation, and you couldn't admit to yourself that you didn't want to approach.
You had to, though, because no one else was there.
So you approached again, this time to get them out, because it was taking too long. You didn't want to call the police, who wouldn't do anything about it anyway, and there was nothing more you could do.
The man became more physically aggressive towards the girl, standing up without blinking and angrily grabbing her arm, trying to pull her up. You were between them and were pushed back by the man with the chin. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but you staggered. Instead of falling, you felt hands catching your shoulders, which helped you balance.
Surprised, you glanced back and saw his blue eyes staring at you with a strange, worried expression, though the rest of his face showed no other emotion. It sent a strange pang through your heart.
Before you could do anything, say anything, he moved and grabbed the man in front of you by the arm, hiding you behind his back.
The man glanced at Bucky, dissatisfied, and you saw something else. But it was only a second; you couldn't see much behind him.
"That Lady almost fell because of you." His voice held an unpleasant edge, even if he kept his voice low. "Leave that Lady alone," he said warningly, grabbing the man's forearm, before he grabbed the woman's arm again. "Just leave." He said it in a way that made you want to back away.
He left the café without a word, but before he stepped outside, he glanced over his shoulder and you swear he smiled to himself.
"Thank you and I'm sorry," the woman said, trying to maintain her composure, even though it was clear something was wrong.
"Is fine," you said, trying to get past Bucky, who only gently grabbed your forearm, as if the threat hadn't passed.
You glanced at him and saw the sharpness in his expression, but before you could ask what was going on, the short, blond woman stood up. Without saying anything else, she walked past you.
The woman disappeared behind him before you even said anything to her, she wasn't even paying the bill.
"Wait. You have to pay—"
"I'll pay, doll." Bucky interrupted, still holding your arm.
"No. She—"
"I'll pay." He insisted, and you felt his hands tighten around you.
"But—"
"I'll pay. And that's it." He didn't raise his voice, but you could see he was upset about what he'd done. "Okay?" This time it sounded soft, even guilty.
You were silent for a moment, watching his face. You wanted to ask what was going on, but you held back. You didn't feel you were close enough to him to ask about anything like that, though it was an excuse, because you didn't have the courage to do so.
"Okay," you said coherently.
"Here, this is for you."
You shouldn't be surprised anymore, and you still weren't when he handed you a black box the size of a glass, tied with a red ribbon. You returned your gaze to him.
"Open it." He encouraged you, but a strange shadow crossed his face. You felt like with each meeting, you had more questions than answers. That wasn't how it was supposed to work.
You were a little grateful there wasn't a clique right now, even though you could feel Kate's eyes on your back and knew she wouldn't let you rest, because of the mysterious, handsome, elegant man giving you a gift. Trying to ignore it, and your shaking hands, which you were trying to control, you opened the box. Inside was a heart-shaped bottle marked "107" from a company you didn't recognize.
"I hope I got it."
You pulled it out of the box and sprayed it on your wrist. You were surprised when the scent was very similar to the ones you normally used. You sprayed it on him, not knowing what to say. How could a man possibly know something like that, because you hadn't said anything yourself, and he hadn't asked. Did he have a super sense of smell or something?
"I got it." It wasn't a question, but the satisfaction was written all over his face.
"They're... practically the same."
"But do you like their scent?" Even though he knew the answer to that question, he asked it anyway.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure how to interpret it. Good or bad? Should you bother or not? You shouldn't even ask about it anymore. He knew where you lived.
"They're... pretty." You said slowly. "I like them."
"Me too. They suit you." Happy was the word that could describe his facial expression. Was it even possible to be that happy? Or to be happy for someone else and not ask for anything in return?
"When did you have time for this?" you asked, taking a look on the bottle.
"I had a moment."
But you still had tons of questions.
You hadn't expected to see him today. It was evening when he'd lasted. It felt strange to see him at such an hour. Although strange wasn't the word you wanted to use, because you didn't want to admit to yourself that, in a strange way, you felt relieved when he arrived. You shouldn't feel this way, feeling strangely relieved when you didn't see him. Not even for a minute.
Although he was the one who found personas just to see you, even for a second. It was nice to see someone care about you even a little, though you knew that even a little was too kind, especially when it came to Bucky.
Although when he approached you, you saw that he didn't have the same twinkle in his eyes you always saw him with.
"Coffee here, and with one of those adorable drawings you make." Maybe if you didn't know him well enough you wouldn't have noticed how much effort was hidden behind his voice.
You didn't know what was going on in his mind at that moment, you could only tell it was a lot, because he was always focused on you, even when he didn't say anything. You didn't ask him anything. You still weren't sure how to approach him. It sounded childish, but it was hard to read him, even if he tried, in his own way, to show you how much he cared about you. You didn't quite understand, or rather, you didn't want to get carried away by your emotions and regret it later. It had happened to you too many times.
Something changed in his expression. A deepening worry deepened, a concern you had no idea about. He thanked you and took his order with him to one of the table.
It was a strange image, men wearing elegant clothes, with a cute mug with a drawing of a cat.
It was a charming sight for you, though his gaze didn't do what it always did. Him looked at you. You miss this warmth.
You hadn't seen him like this since you first met him. Or rather never. He was silent, yet his gaze spoke ludly, but not like this. And now you saw the anguish in them, even though he wasn't looking at you.
There was another table besides him, but they were busy with themselves.
You picked up the broom and slowly began sweeping, moving towards him.
You didn't know if you were doing it so the manager wouldn't see you, or because you weren't sure if Bucky wanted your company. You set the broom down in front of another table and reached for it, glancing over your shoulder.
He glanced at you, but he was more absent-minded than looking past you. You propped your chin on your hand and placed the other one flat on your back. You glanced back again. Still nothing.
You did something a little silly and embarrassing. You started to wriggle your finger at him with your free hand, playing. Like a child. You ignored the warmth starting to envelop your face.
You nudged his hand with one of yours fingers, observing his reaction.
"What's going on?" you asked softly, a little uncertain, leaning in towards him.
"Work." "He sighed, observing your hand on the table, then gently grabbed your fingertips with his.
"Don't tell me." You sighed in confirmation, thinking you knew what he meant. "But nothing interesting?"
"Everything's just not going as it should." He slowly began to run his thumb over your hand.
"Reasonably." You were watching his movements with your hand, wanting him to take off his glove so you could feel his skin against yours.
Focus.
"But it's better now." You looked up at him and saw that he'd somehow realized he was himself again.
You didn't want to admit to youself how much the little things, the words, the actions he did, were starting to affect you. You missed the way someone paid attention to you.
"I wanted to give it to you after I walked you home."
You smirked, watching him pull long, black pants from his coat.
"You doesn't have to give me something every time. Series." You didn't accept his gift when he handed it to you, but stared directly into his eyes.
"But I do. I like giving you gifts."
You took a breath, feeling his worry transfer from him to you.
"Even if I do, I feel a little bad when I receive them," you said honestly. "I didn't give you anything."
"It's enough for me that you want to spend time with me."
"Bucky—"
"I'm serious." He squeezed your hand in confirmation. "Just talk to me. You have a nice voice."
You chuckled to youself and accepted the gift hesitantly. You didn't open it, just wandered around it. He wasn't asking you for a lot, for something that somehow a lot of people want, and you tried not to think about wanting to repay him. Although you shouldn't. He did it because he wanted to, and you tried to focus on that.
You opened the box and gasped. You closed it and placed it on the table, pushing it back toward him.
"Bucky." You didn't hide his disbelief in his voice, but also you sharpness. "I can't give this away. It's…"
"A gift." He pushed it back toward you.
"No—"
"Gifts, I don't give away."
She shook her head.
"It's too expensive to carry anywhere." You was starting to panic. "I don't even know where to wear it. What if I lose it?" You started to struggle, trying to find any excuse.
"If you lose it, I'll buy you a new one." It was meant to sound joking, but you didn't get it.
"Bucky!" You cut him off.
He took the box and pulled out a silver bracelet with a diamond star. He held it out towards you, inviting you to give it to him.
You stared at him in disbelief. You gasped, and he extended his wrist toward you, a little hesitantly.
"Bucky, I'm serious, if I lose this…" He gave it to you before you could even take it. It fit perfectly against your skin. Too perfectly.
"You don't," he said to you confidently, pressing his fingers against your skin where the jewelry was. "I'm serious too."
You didn't know what to do with it, because you wanted to do something, but you didn't know what. You'll yell at him to leave you alone, even though you didn't want me to. Say someone else deserves it. Probably.
"You know…" you started to him, even though he was also talking to himself. "Gifts like that are given to wives, not people who barely know each other." You said quietly, trying to joke, avoiding yors own guilt as you watched your wrist.
"I think you give yourself to someone you care about as a gift," he said calmly, tilting his head.
"I have a question," you said uncertainly, you eyes darting to him.
"Just ask."
You sighed, for the second time in a short time.
"Are-are you trying to bribe me so I don't know…" she wondered, raising your gaze agine to him. "Spending time with me."
He glanced away, wondering, trying to hide a smile.
"Does it work?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, trying to hide his own amusement at this station.
"Oh my God. Really?"
"I'm not going to apologize for wanting to give you gifts. You deserve it."
"But—"
"I don't care how long we've known each other," he pressed you. "Let me do it."
You sighed slowly, watching him.
"Okay, but that doesn't mean I like it," she warned him.
You heard someone cough to get your attention. Immediately, when you saw it was the manager, you quickly got to yours feet, almost tripping over them. You didn't notice how much Bucky's face had a dissatisfied expression on his face, but he didn't say anything.
Of course, you got a scolding, even though there was almost no one left in the cafeteria, but you had to clean up before closing, not flirt while working. He didn't help you, you just normal employee, whom should have taken care of everything. Of course, you didn't miss the moment he noticed your new jewelry on your wrist. He also thought you wouldn't see his reaction when he turned to you, pacing to disappear behind the curtains, but you saw him roll his eyes at that. There was a hint of disbelief. Maybe jealousy. How could you get such an expensive gift, and he couldn't even have his own car, which he kept complaining about?
After closing, Bucky did as he'd said earlier, waiting to walk you home, but before you could poke around in that direction, he insisted on buying you dinner. At first, you refused; you kept doing it, but he ignored you, leading you to the restaurant. You sighed, gave in and ordered.
"Is that all?" he asked, seeing how little you'd ordered.
"Yes. Too much." You said, ignoring the worried expression on his face.
This time he sighed and ordered a few more things. You thought he'd order them for himself, but he gave you all the food when you were at your door.
"Is this some way for me to invite you in? - You laughed nervously as you opened your door.
"No," he said, not thinking twice about your question.
"I guess you're not that clueless."
"I'm not, but I'm not that kind of person either." He studied your face before asking, perhaps a little disappointed. "Do you think I'm that kind of person?"
"No!" You surprised youself with you sudden behavior. "It's just…"
"I know. It's okay," he assured you.
"Is not. I shouldn't suspect something like that." You sighed, frustrated with yourself.
He chuckled under his breath.
"Goodnight." He said your name as he got closer to your face, but still far enough away to see your entire face. You weren't sure what he would do, so you stiffened in surprise.
But he moved away and started heading towards the stairs.
You bit your lip and felt guilty, but you wasn't doing it because of that.
"Bucky." He paused before ducking around the corner and glanced in your direction. "That's a lot of food, and I don't want it to go to waste. Want to join me?"
He looked at you for a moment.
"Are you sure?" For the first time, you heard hesitation in him. Not certainty.
"Definitely." You smiled to confirm your own words.
He hesitated for a moment, and you could see it yourself as he headed your way. You entered the living room, and he followed you.
You walked to the table and set down your bag, watching him out of the corner of your eye. At first, he could see his hesitation as he walked through your apartment.
"I'm glad you didn't bring me flowers any more, otherwise we wouldn't have had a drink," you joked as you pulled it mugs.
For the first time, you were the one with more self-confident. You didn't know how to intervene, his reserve. Did he not trust himself? Should you be worried? Or maybe he wasn't sure about the space in your apartment, but when he last came over, he acted differently, just like usual. Now he was quieter, less penetrating, nervous. You weren't sure if that was the reason, but you didn't want to ask either. Although you didn't want to find out what the reason was. So practically throughout the entire meal, there was silence, knowing you, and this time, you were the one watching him the entire time.
He seemed to appreciate the lack of conversation more in moments like these. Was he more relaxed now? Was that his true self? Not the one who constantly surprised you, make you blush, and told you everything he was thinking?
"When we were interrupted." It started slowly, looking at you with their eyes. "I said I was giving you a gift because I wanted to, and it's true. But also…" You waited steadily, until he found the strength or the words he was searching for to convey his thoughts. "Get your attention… Show me that I care. I know how it looks, but it's been a while since I've had anyone I cared about so much." He paused for a moment, trying to find another words before starting again. "And yes, it's simple for me. I know that with time I'll be able to show it differently. I just don't trust myself with my emotions."
"Bucky… I understand what you mean." You smiled at him. "Really. But aren't you afraid I'm here for your money?" You finally gathered the courage to ask one of the many questions you had for him.
"No, do you know why?" Bucky, who was still down to earth, spoke again, but you also see the real him, who was no longer hiding behind his strange mask of certainty. "Because I know that if you were, you wouldn't feel guilty about this, but you do, and I can see it. And I also know you want to reciprocate, but you shouldn't. Just being here, or rather, letting me be here, is enough for me."
You tried to hold back the tears that were pricking your eyes, trying to breathe deeply. You avoided his gaze, though there was no way he hadn't noticed. How he knows what to say to make you feel worthy?
"Can I hug you?" You heard, and your right away you nodded your head in confirmation.
You only heard the chair being pushed back and his footsteps approaching you. He gently lifted you into his embrace. You immediately buried your head in his shoulder as he led you to the sofa. He sat down and placed you on his lap. You melted into him completely, absorbing his warmth and scent.
You cried, but it was a silent palace that grew fainter with each passing minute. You focused more on the way his hand moved soothingly over your shoulder, his head resting on the top of yours. His breathing was calm, even though his heart was beating rapidly.
You took his other hand in yours and he froze for a moment, begging to return to what he was doing, but more carefully.
"I'm sorry." Your weak voice could be heard like an echo moving through the quiet apartment.
"You shouldn't." He hugged you tight.
"I know, but…"
"It's fine. Really. Just breathe in." He guided you when he noticed you couldn't breathe agian. "And breathe out."
Repeat this action a few more times until your breathing calmed down.
"Buck?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me."
You pulled away to glare at him. You knew you looked awful and tried to compose youself, wiping your tear with your sleeve.
"I don't have to, but I want to." You might not have sounded the most confident, your voice strained from crying, but you didn't care. "It means a lot to me." You gestured between you. "More people would ask me what's going on, but you don't. So thank you."
He stared at you, then wiped the lone tear from your cheek with his hand and settled himself so that all his eyes were level.
"You're welcome." He smiled, now holding your face in both hands to make sure you were absorbed in his blue eyes, which you could easily get lost in. "I'll always be here for you. Okay?" He rested your eyes against his.
You felt your heart skip a beat and wanted to thank him again, but you held it back.
"Okay."
You snuggled into him again, not wanting to let him go.
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DIVIDERS by @angeliicide
Mr. James
dbf!bucky x reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: +18, AU Moder, f!reader, dbf!bucky, Age gap, very detailed kissing?, a little sadness, reader is horny, mention of porn, love at first sight or just physical attraction, smoking Summary: She meets his father's best friend.
ʚଓ masterlist
She'd come home for the holidays. She missed her family terribly. They hadn't seen them for months, and conversations were few and far between, everyone busy with their own affairs. He didn't have much time for each other's company, or rather, none at all. The fact that she hadn't found anyone, not even a single soul who didn't know anyone else, was strange. So she spent almost all her time alone in her room, and she hardly saw her co-stars at all. So, returning to her hometown was the only thing he'd been thinking about for the past few weeks.
She knew that before the holidays, there was always her father's birthday, a day that had been neglected by family and friends. She was going to meet her father's new friend, about whom he'd heard little and much at the same time. He described him as a quiet guest, but upon closer inspection, he became more open. He moved in not long after she left for her final year of college. He helped other neighbors, but she always described the look on his face as if he was doing it as a punishment, even though she denied it.
Every time they spoke, her father mentioned him and how she couldn't wait to meet him. However, they didn't mention how handsome he was, even though he was only slightly younger than her parents. And it was clear he was older, but in a way that made him beautiful.
When he saw him, she froze and couldn't stop looking at him, at each of his shoulders, his head, his hands. She couldn't focus on how her father was somehow telling stories about him and James. He just nodded, staring at the tall, large man with dark, curly hair and a well-trimmed beard.
"Mr. James."
Every time her father always added Mr. or Ms. when she spoke to her about her friends, reminding her to respect them. Now she felt something other than respect for James, something she shouldn't have felt.
As she became an adult and began to understand adult things more, she wondered why she never acted like other teenagers. Falling in love with someone at first sight for a week and forgetting, or being forgotten and crying until it happened again. And yet, she wondered what was wrong with her. Not to mention that she felt no sexual attraction to anyone. She could find someone attractive, but she didn't feel the desire to do anything about it. She even saw porn, but that didn't work either and was boring. And simply she knew they where acting, and it made her feel lonely.Until someone started talking about thers dating life, and everything went south because she'd never been with anyone. She'd never even kissed anyone, and no one had ever shown any interest in her. Sometimes she want to cry because of that.
But something had changed, and it was a welcome change, as long as it wasn't an older man, but the worst part was that he was her father's friend. She knew she couldn't do anything about it, because what could she do? Ask James if he wanted to go on a date with her? It was the first time she'd seen him. She didn't believe in love at first sight, but she was beginning to believe that someone could be instantly attractive. Now she just stood there, staring at him, trying to keep her eyes level with his face and not drop lower to his broad shoulders. Along his chest, to his hands holding glasses. She hadn't known that someone's hands, hung higher than hers, could be so attractive. I wonder what they could do-
She quickly returned her gaze to his face, taking a breath and trying to calm herself. She wasn't surprised, however, to find her eyes studying him closely. She knew his expression. She smiled to herself, looking away from him as her father continued to speak, but she hadn't been listening to him for a long time. She looked back at him, their eyes meeting, and he lingered on her for a second too long as he glanced back at his friend. She knew there was something more behind his usual expression, but she didn't know if it was real or just her imagination.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted out, quickly turning in that direction, not waiting for a reaction.
She closed the door behind her and covered her face with her hands. She wanted to escape from what had just happened.
She wasn't sure if this wasn't how everyone felt when they were noticed by someone they liked. She felt like she was in heaven, even though she should have been in hell. She wasn't even surprised that she had a smile on her face that wanted to disappear. She was simultaneously happy and afraid. After all, she was interested in another person, but this was her father's friend, not to mention he was much older.
She walked over to the speaker and only saw her own expression out of the corner of her eye. She bent down to splash the icy water on her face. It cooled her emotions a little, but only a little.
She stared at the sink, her hands clenching around it, and sighed in frustration.
"Why not someone else?"
She took one last breath and opened the door. She was surprised to see James standing before her. They stared at each other for far too long, and she tried to resist the temptation to bring her hand to his face.
"Your father asked if I could see what was taking you so long?" he began to explain nervously.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She took another shaky breath, seeing the worried expression on his face.
"I just…" She began quietly. "Everything's okay. Um… I need…"
She slowly started to close the door, knowing she was making a complete fool of herself, but she didn't know what else to do.
"What's going on?" He stopped the door with his hand, and she felt her muscles stiffen and looked at him, frightened. "Did I do something?"
Yes, you exist. She thought.
"Nothing." She just shook her head. "I just…" She pointed toward the bathroom she was in. She knew her face was burning with her stupidity.
"Tell me, if I did something?" This time, there was worry in his voice. Real worry.
"Really nothing." She raised her voice, desperately trying to wipe away his worried expression. "I really need to use this again." This time her voice wasn't weak, and she just tried to smile to confirm it. "I really did. She didn't do anything. Not my day. Tell her I'll be right there."
Okay." He was clearly unconvinced, but he didn't press the issue and let go of the door. "Bucky. Calls me that, doll."
Her stomach lurched at the nickname.
"Sure." This time she actually smiled, even wider than she wanted, and she wanted to jump for joy. Even scream.
He stopped the door again, and she saw something in his expression, something she didn't quite grasp. But before she could ask, he opened the door wider, and she began to back away as he began to enter the hanging room. The question was written on her face, but she also felt something jump in her stomach, especially when the door closed behind her. The lock.
He glanced at her, and she saw something dangerous in his eyes. She'd never seen anyone with so many emotions etched on their faces, and perhaps she could easily read him.
She felt his warm, large hand on her cheek and gave in easily, nuzzling her face. For seconds, her body was working automatically, and when she realized what was happening, she quickly pulled away.
"I…"
This time, he grabbed her in both hands, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. He didn't say anything, just stared at her silently, not at her body, her skin, her lips, just her eyes. It was more intimate than anything she'd experienced in her life. She could have drowned in his light blue eyes, which reminded her of a calm ocean. And he was so calm, waiting, though she didn't know what was happening, or rather, her mind couldn't comprehend it all.
But it was she who broke eye contact first when she glanced at his lips. She quickly fled, embarrassed by her behavior. Of course, it was impossible to see, and only he moved closer to her until their noses touched. She smelt his wrists, suffocating at the closeness, the way he smelled. Not a strong perfume like most men, but something delicate, even sweet. But all her attention was focused on his breath and she hadn't expected the smell of papers. She loved and hated it at the same time.
She raised her eyes and saw a nervous question in it. Just to confirm what she wanted, she moved a little closer to him, but their lips still didn't meet. Until he leaned in even closer and she felt it on hers. She hadn't known something like that could be so pleasant, it made her feel alive again. The taste of cigarettes and cherries lingered on her lips. She thought he drank alcohol like everyone else, but it was a pleasant surprise when it turned out he was doing it deliberately. It gave her butterflies.
He deepened the kiss, but not so much that it overwhelmed her, but rather to explore what he could do next. She wasn't sure if he could easily tell it was her first kiss, because she wasn't sure what to do next, so she tried to open her mouth wider. This encouraged him to slide his tongue across her lips. He tried to mirror his movement, but she felt him give him control, and he placed one of his hands on her back to pull her closer. She put her hands on his shirt, just to grip onto something, as he began kissing her waistband, which began to engulf her as she felt the cold sink behind him.
He slid his hand from her back, lower, along her hips, until he touched her ass. He didn't squeeze, just held her there. He pulled back for a second to catch his breath, then returned without wasting time. This time, she felt the power in his hand as he grabbed the back of her head and held her, as he tried to pull away to catch his breath. She felt him groan against her lips, and she couldn't stop the shivers in her body. He didn't want this to ever end.
She felt her own panties stick to clit, and she instinctively began to rub her hips together. She felt him push his leg between hers until she felt herself buck against his body. She moaned so loudly in the aftermath that she felt his body press harder against hers. She felt his hand leave her head and slide down, until he tucked it under her shirt.
"Honey, what's going on? And where's Jame?"
Everything was shattered when she heard her mother's voice from the doorway. They both froze and realized what was happening. They separated quickly, breathing heavily. She heard a knock.
"Honey?"
"Everything's okay." She could barely speak, trying to speak normally, but her cracked voice gave everything away.
"You don't sound well."
"Really, everything's okay." She sounded better this time. "I think James went out for a smoke." She saw the person her mother was looking for trying to hide a smile, she trying too.
"Okay. But—"
"It's just my period." She felt her face grow warm.
"Okay. If you need anything, just tell me." Of course she was worried.
"Okay. I'll be right there."
She heard a footstep disappearing behind the door, staring at Bucky, whose face was filled with various emotions. Guilt was the most obvious, and she felt like crying.
dividers by @dollywons & @saradika-graphics
Mr. James
dbf!bucky x reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: +18, AU Moder, f!reader, dbf!bucky, Age gap, very detailed kissing?, a little sadness, reader is horny, mention of porn, love at first sight or just physical attraction, smoking Summary: She meets his father's best friend.
ʚଓ masterlist
She'd come home for the holidays. She missed her family terribly. They hadn't seen them for months, and conversations were few and far between, everyone busy with their own affairs. He didn't have much time for each other's company, or rather, none at all. The fact that she hadn't found anyone, not even a single soul who didn't know anyone else, was strange. So she spent almost all her time alone in her room, and she hardly saw her co-stars at all. So, returning to her hometown was the only thing he'd been thinking about for the past few weeks.
She knew that before the holidays, there was always her father's birthday, a day that had been neglected by family and friends. She was going to meet her father's new friend, about whom he'd heard little and much at the same time. He described him as a quiet guest, but upon closer inspection, he became more open. He moved in not long after she left for her final year of college. He helped other neighbors, but she always described the look on his face as if he was doing it as a punishment, even though she denied it.
Every time they spoke, her father mentioned him and how she couldn't wait to meet him. However, they didn't mention how handsome he was, even though he was only slightly younger than her parents. And it was clear he was older, but in a way that made him beautiful.
When he saw him, she froze and couldn't stop looking at him, at each of his shoulders, his head, his hands. She couldn't focus on how her father was somehow telling stories about him and James. He just nodded, staring at the tall, large man with dark, curly hair and a well-trimmed beard.
"Mr. James."
Every time her father always added Mr. or Ms. when she spoke to her about her friends, reminding her to respect them. Now she felt something other than respect for James, something she shouldn't have felt.
As she became an adult and began to understand adult things more, she wondered why she never acted like other teenagers. Falling in love with someone at first sight for a week and forgetting, or being forgotten and crying until it happened again. And yet, she wondered what was wrong with her. Not to mention that she felt no sexual attraction to anyone. She could find someone attractive, but she didn't feel the desire to do anything about it. She even saw porn, but that didn't work either and was boring. And simply she knew they where acting, and it made her feel lonely.Until someone started talking about thers dating life, and everything went south because she'd never been with anyone. She'd never even kissed anyone, and no one had ever shown any interest in her. Sometimes she want to cry because of that.
But something had changed, and it was a welcome change, as long as it wasn't an older man, but the worst part was that he was her father's friend. She knew she couldn't do anything about it, because what could she do? Ask James if he wanted to go on a date with her? It was the first time she'd seen him. She didn't believe in love at first sight, but she was beginning to believe that someone could be instantly attractive. Now she just stood there, staring at him, trying to keep her eyes level with his face and not drop lower to his broad shoulders. Along his chest, to his hands holding glasses. She hadn't known that someone's hands, hung higher than hers, could be so attractive. I wonder what they could do-
She quickly returned her gaze to his face, taking a breath and trying to calm herself. She wasn't surprised, however, to find her eyes studying him closely. She knew his expression. She smiled to herself, looking away from him as her father continued to speak, but she hadn't been listening to him for a long time. She looked back at him, their eyes meeting, and he lingered on her for a second too long as he glanced back at his friend. She knew there was something more behind his usual expression, but she didn't know if it was real or just her imagination.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted out, quickly turning in that direction, not waiting for a reaction.
She closed the door behind her and covered her face with her hands. She wanted to escape from what had just happened.
She wasn't sure if this wasn't how everyone felt when they were noticed by someone they liked. She felt like she was in heaven, even though she should have been in hell. She wasn't even surprised that she had a smile on her face that wanted to disappear. She was simultaneously happy and afraid. After all, she was interested in another person, but this was her father's friend, not to mention he was much older.
She walked over to the speaker and only saw her own expression out of the corner of her eye. She bent down to splash the icy water on her face. It cooled her emotions a little, but only a little.
She stared at the sink, her hands clenching around it, and sighed in frustration.
"Why not someone else?"
She took one last breath and opened the door. She was surprised to see James standing before her. They stared at each other for far too long, and she tried to resist the temptation to bring her hand to his face.
"Your father asked if I could see what was taking you so long?" he began to explain nervously.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She took another shaky breath, seeing the worried expression on his face.
"I just…" She began quietly. "Everything's okay. Um… I need…"
She slowly started to close the door, knowing she was making a complete fool of herself, but she didn't know what else to do.
"What's going on?" He stopped the door with his hand, and she felt her muscles stiffen and looked at him, frightened. "Did I do something?"
Yes, you exist. She thought.
"Nothing." She just shook her head. "I just…" She pointed toward the bathroom she was in. She knew her face was burning with her stupidity.
"Tell me, if I did something?" This time, there was worry in his voice. Real worry.
"Really nothing." She raised her voice, desperately trying to wipe away his worried expression. "I really need to use this again." This time her voice wasn't weak, and she just tried to smile to confirm it. "I really did. She didn't do anything. Not my day. Tell her I'll be right there."
Okay." He was clearly unconvinced, but he didn't press the issue and let go of the door. "Bucky. Calls me that, doll."
Her stomach lurched at the nickname.
"Sure." This time she actually smiled, even wider than she wanted, and she wanted to jump for joy. Even scream.
He stopped the door again, and she saw something in his expression, something she didn't quite grasp. But before she could ask, he opened the door wider, and she began to back away as he began to enter the hanging room. The question was written on her face, but she also felt something jump in her stomach, especially when the door closed behind her. The lock.
He glanced at her, and she saw something dangerous in his eyes. She'd never seen anyone with so many emotions etched on their faces, and perhaps she could easily read him.
She felt his warm, large hand on her cheek and gave in easily, nuzzling her face. For seconds, her body was working automatically, and when she realized what was happening, she quickly pulled away.
"I…"
This time, he grabbed her in both hands, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. He didn't say anything, just stared at her silently, not at her body, her skin, her lips, just her eyes. It was more intimate than anything she'd experienced in her life. She could have drowned in his light blue eyes, which reminded her of a calm ocean. And he was so calm, waiting, though she didn't know what was happening, or rather, her mind couldn't comprehend it all.
But it was she who broke eye contact first when she glanced at his lips. She quickly fled, embarrassed by her behavior. Of course, it was impossible to see, and only he moved closer to her until their noses touched. She smelt his wrists, suffocating at the closeness, the way he smelled. Not a strong perfume like most men, but something delicate, even sweet. But all her attention was focused on his breath and she hadn't expected the smell of papers. She loved and hated it at the same time.
She raised her eyes and saw a nervous question in it. Just to confirm what she wanted, she moved a little closer to him, but their lips still didn't meet. Until he leaned in even closer and she felt it on hers. She hadn't known something like that could be so pleasant, it made her feel alive again. The taste of cigarettes and cherries lingered on her lips. She thought he drank alcohol like everyone else, but it was a pleasant surprise when it turned out he was doing it deliberately. It gave her butterflies.
He deepened the kiss, but not so much that it overwhelmed her, but rather to explore what he could do next. She wasn't sure if he could easily tell it was her first kiss, because she wasn't sure what to do next, so she tried to open her mouth wider. This encouraged him to slide his tongue across her lips. He tried to mirror his movement, but she felt him give him control, and he placed one of his hands on her back to pull her closer. She put her hands on his shirt, just to grip onto something, as he began kissing her waistband, which began to engulf her as she felt the cold sink behind him.
He slid his hand from her back, lower, along her hips, until he touched her ass. He didn't squeeze, just held her there. He pulled back for a second to catch his breath, then returned without wasting time. This time, she felt the power in his hand as he grabbed the back of her head and held her, as he tried to pull away to catch his breath. She felt him groan against her lips, and she couldn't stop the shivers in her body. He didn't want this to ever end.
She felt her own panties stick to clit, and she instinctively began to rub her hips together. She felt him push his leg between hers until she felt herself buck against his body. She moaned so loudly in the aftermath that she felt his body press harder against hers. She felt his hand leave her head and slide down, until he tucked it under her shirt.
"Honey, what's going on? And where's Jame?"
Everything was shattered when she heard her mother's voice from the doorway. They both froze and realized what was happening. They separated quickly, breathing heavily. She heard a knock.
"Honey?"
"Everything's okay." She could barely speak, trying to speak normally, but her cracked voice gave everything away.
"You don't sound well."
"Really, everything's okay." She sounded better this time. "I think James went out for a smoke." She saw the person her mother was looking for trying to hide a smile, she trying too.
"Okay. But—"
"It's just my period." She felt her face grow warm.
"Okay. If you need anything, just tell me." Of course she was worried.
"Okay. I'll be right there."
She heard a footstep disappearing behind the door, staring at Bucky, whose face was filled with various emotions. Guilt was the most obvious, and she felt like crying.
dividers by @dollywons & @saradika-graphics
Mr. James
dbf!bucky x reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: +18, AU Moder, f!reader, dbf!bucky, Age gap, very detailed kissing?, a little sadness, reader is horny, mention of porn, love at first sight or just physical attraction, smoking Summary: She meets his father's best friend.
ʚଓ masterlist
She'd come home for the holidays. She missed her family terribly. They hadn't seen them for months, and conversations were few and far between, everyone busy with their own affairs. He didn't have much time for each other's company, or rather, none at all. The fact that she hadn't found anyone, not even a single soul who didn't know anyone else, was strange. So she spent almost all her time alone in her room, and she hardly saw her co-stars at all. So, returning to her hometown was the only thing he'd been thinking about for the past few weeks.
She knew that before the holidays, there was always her father's birthday, a day that had been neglected by family and friends. She was going to meet her father's new friend, about whom he'd heard little and much at the same time. He described him as a quiet guest, but upon closer inspection, he became more open. He moved in not long after she left for her final year of college. He helped other neighbors, but she always described the look on his face as if he was doing it as a punishment, even though she denied it.
Every time they spoke, her father mentioned him and how she couldn't wait to meet him. However, they didn't mention how handsome he was, even though he was only slightly younger than her parents. And it was clear he was older, but in a way that made him beautiful.
When he saw him, she froze and couldn't stop looking at him, at each of his shoulders, his head, his hands. She couldn't focus on how her father was somehow telling stories about him and James. He just nodded, staring at the tall, large man with dark, curly hair and a well-trimmed beard.
"Mr. James."
Every time her father always added Mr. or Ms. when she spoke to her about her friends, reminding her to respect them. Now she felt something other than respect for James, something she shouldn't have felt.
As she became an adult and began to understand adult things more, she wondered why she never acted like other teenagers. Falling in love with someone at first sight for a week and forgetting, or being forgotten and crying until it happened again. And yet, she wondered what was wrong with her. Not to mention that she felt no sexual attraction to anyone. She could find someone attractive, but she didn't feel the desire to do anything about it. She even saw porn, but that didn't work either and was boring. And simply she knew they where acting, and it made her feel lonely.Until someone started talking about thers dating life, and everything went south because she'd never been with anyone. She'd never even kissed anyone, and no one had ever shown any interest in her. Sometimes she want to cry because of that.
But something had changed, and it was a welcome change, as long as it wasn't an older man, but the worst part was that he was her father's friend. She knew she couldn't do anything about it, because what could she do? Ask James if he wanted to go on a date with her? It was the first time she'd seen him. She didn't believe in love at first sight, but she was beginning to believe that someone could be instantly attractive. Now she just stood there, staring at him, trying to keep her eyes level with his face and not drop lower to his broad shoulders. Along his chest, to his hands holding glasses. She hadn't known that someone's hands, hung higher than hers, could be so attractive. I wonder what they could do-
She quickly returned her gaze to his face, taking a breath and trying to calm herself. She wasn't surprised, however, to find her eyes studying him closely. She knew his expression. She smiled to herself, looking away from him as her father continued to speak, but she hadn't been listening to him for a long time. She looked back at him, their eyes meeting, and he lingered on her for a second too long as he glanced back at his friend. She knew there was something more behind his usual expression, but she didn't know if it was real or just her imagination.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted out, quickly turning in that direction, not waiting for a reaction.
She closed the door behind her and covered her face with her hands. She wanted to escape from what had just happened.
She wasn't sure if this wasn't how everyone felt when they were noticed by someone they liked. She felt like she was in heaven, even though she should have been in hell. She wasn't even surprised that she had a smile on her face that wanted to disappear. She was simultaneously happy and afraid. After all, she was interested in another person, but this was her father's friend, not to mention he was much older.
She walked over to the speaker and only saw her own expression out of the corner of her eye. She bent down to splash the icy water on her face. It cooled her emotions a little, but only a little.
She stared at the sink, her hands clenching around it, and sighed in frustration.
"Why not someone else?"
She took one last breath and opened the door. She was surprised to see James standing before her. They stared at each other for far too long, and she tried to resist the temptation to bring her hand to his face.
"Your father asked if I could see what was taking you so long?" he began to explain nervously.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She took another shaky breath, seeing the worried expression on his face.
"I just…" She began quietly. "Everything's okay. Um… I need…"
She slowly started to close the door, knowing she was making a complete fool of herself, but she didn't know what else to do.
"What's going on?" He stopped the door with his hand, and she felt her muscles stiffen and looked at him, frightened. "Did I do something?"
Yes, you exist. She thought.
"Nothing." She just shook her head. "I just…" She pointed toward the bathroom she was in. She knew her face was burning with her stupidity.
"Tell me, if I did something?" This time, there was worry in his voice. Real worry.
"Really nothing." She raised her voice, desperately trying to wipe away his worried expression. "I really need to use this again." This time her voice wasn't weak, and she just tried to smile to confirm it. "I really did. She didn't do anything. Not my day. Tell her I'll be right there."
Okay." He was clearly unconvinced, but he didn't press the issue and let go of the door. "Bucky. Calls me that, doll."
Her stomach lurched at the nickname.
"Sure." This time she actually smiled, even wider than she wanted, and she wanted to jump for joy. Even scream.
He stopped the door again, and she saw something in his expression, something she didn't quite grasp. But before she could ask, he opened the door wider, and she began to back away as he began to enter the hanging room. The question was written on her face, but she also felt something jump in her stomach, especially when the door closed behind her. The lock.
He glanced at her, and she saw something dangerous in his eyes. She'd never seen anyone with so many emotions etched on their faces, and perhaps she could easily read him.
She felt his warm, large hand on her cheek and gave in easily, nuzzling her face. For seconds, her body was working automatically, and when she realized what was happening, she quickly pulled away.
"I…"
This time, he grabbed her in both hands, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. He didn't say anything, just stared at her silently, not at her body, her skin, her lips, just her eyes. It was more intimate than anything she'd experienced in her life. She could have drowned in his light blue eyes, which reminded her of a calm ocean. And he was so calm, waiting, though she didn't know what was happening, or rather, her mind couldn't comprehend it all.
But it was she who broke eye contact first when she glanced at his lips. She quickly fled, embarrassed by her behavior. Of course, it was impossible to see, and only he moved closer to her until their noses touched. She smelt his wrists, suffocating at the closeness, the way he smelled. Not a strong perfume like most men, but something delicate, even sweet. But all her attention was focused on his breath and she hadn't expected the smell of papers. She loved and hated it at the same time.
She raised her eyes and saw a nervous question in it. Just to confirm what she wanted, she moved a little closer to him, but their lips still didn't meet. Until he leaned in even closer and she felt it on hers. She hadn't known something like that could be so pleasant, it made her feel alive again. The taste of cigarettes and cherries lingered on her lips. She thought he drank alcohol like everyone else, but it was a pleasant surprise when it turned out he was doing it deliberately. It gave her butterflies.
He deepened the kiss, but not so much that it overwhelmed her, but rather to explore what he could do next. She wasn't sure if he could easily tell it was her first kiss, because she wasn't sure what to do next, so she tried to open her mouth wider. This encouraged him to slide his tongue across her lips. He tried to mirror his movement, but she felt him give him control, and he placed one of his hands on her back to pull her closer. She put her hands on his shirt, just to grip onto something, as he began kissing her waistband, which began to engulf her as she felt the cold sink behind him.
He slid his hand from her back, lower, along her hips, until he touched her ass. He didn't squeeze, just held her there. He pulled back for a second to catch his breath, then returned without wasting time. This time, she felt the power in his hand as he grabbed the back of her head and held her, as he tried to pull away to catch his breath. She felt him groan against her lips, and she couldn't stop the shivers in her body. He didn't want this to ever end.
She felt her own panties stick to clit, and she instinctively began to rub her hips together. She felt him push his leg between hers until she felt herself buck against his body. She moaned so loudly in the aftermath that she felt his body press harder against hers. She felt his hand leave her head and slide down, until he tucked it under her shirt.
"Honey, what's going on? And where's Jame?"
Everything was shattered when she heard her mother's voice from the doorway. They both froze and realized what was happening. They separated quickly, breathing heavily. She heard a knock.
"Honey?"
"Everything's okay." She could barely speak, trying to speak normally, but her cracked voice gave everything away.
"You don't sound well."
"Really, everything's okay." She sounded better this time. "I think James went out for a smoke." She saw the person her mother was looking for trying to hide a smile, she trying too.
"Okay. But—"
"It's just my period." She felt her face grow warm.
"Okay. If you need anything, just tell me." Of course she was worried.
"Okay. I'll be right there."
She heard a footstep disappearing behind the door, staring at Bucky, whose face was filled with various emotions. Guilt was the most obvious, and she felt like crying.
dividers by @dollywons & @saradika-graphics
Mr. James
dbf!bucky x reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: +18, AU Moder, f!reader, dbf!bucky, Age gap, very detailed kissing?, a little sadness, reader is horny, mention of porn, love at first sight or just physical attraction, smoking Summary: She meets his father's best friend.
ʚଓ masterlist
She'd come home for the holidays. She missed her family terribly. They hadn't seen them for months, and conversations were few and far between, everyone busy with their own affairs. He didn't have much time for each other's company, or rather, none at all. The fact that she hadn't found anyone, not even a single soul who didn't know anyone else, was strange. So she spent almost all her time alone in her room, and she hardly saw her co-stars at all. So, returning to her hometown was the only thing he'd been thinking about for the past few weeks.
She knew that before the holidays, there was always her father's birthday, a day that had been neglected by family and friends. She was going to meet her father's new friend, about whom he'd heard little and much at the same time. He described him as a quiet guest, but upon closer inspection, he became more open. He moved in not long after she left for her final year of college. He helped other neighbors, but she always described the look on his face as if he was doing it as a punishment, even though she denied it.
Every time they spoke, her father mentioned him and how she couldn't wait to meet him. However, they didn't mention how handsome he was, even though he was only slightly younger than her parents. And it was clear he was older, but in a way that made him beautiful.
When he saw him, she froze and couldn't stop looking at him, at each of his shoulders, his head, his hands. She couldn't focus on how her father was somehow telling stories about him and James. He just nodded, staring at the tall, large man with dark, curly hair and a well-trimmed beard.
"Mr. James."
Every time her father always added Mr. or Ms. when she spoke to her about her friends, reminding her to respect them. Now she felt something other than respect for James, something she shouldn't have felt.
As she became an adult and began to understand adult things more, she wondered why she never acted like other teenagers. Falling in love with someone at first sight for a week and forgetting, or being forgotten and crying until it happened again. And yet, she wondered what was wrong with her. Not to mention that she felt no sexual attraction to anyone. She could find someone attractive, but she didn't feel the desire to do anything about it. She even saw porn, but that didn't work either and was boring. And simply she knew they where acting, and it made her feel lonely.Until someone started talking about thers dating life, and everything went south because she'd never been with anyone. She'd never even kissed anyone, and no one had ever shown any interest in her. Sometimes she want to cry because of that.
But something had changed, and it was a welcome change, as long as it wasn't an older man, but the worst part was that he was her father's friend. She knew she couldn't do anything about it, because what could she do? Ask James if he wanted to go on a date with her? It was the first time she'd seen him. She didn't believe in love at first sight, but she was beginning to believe that someone could be instantly attractive. Now she just stood there, staring at him, trying to keep her eyes level with his face and not drop lower to his broad shoulders. Along his chest, to his hands holding glasses. She hadn't known that someone's hands, hung higher than hers, could be so attractive. I wonder what they could do-
She quickly returned her gaze to his face, taking a breath and trying to calm herself. She wasn't surprised, however, to find her eyes studying him closely. She knew his expression. She smiled to herself, looking away from him as her father continued to speak, but she hadn't been listening to him for a long time. She looked back at him, their eyes meeting, and he lingered on her for a second too long as he glanced back at his friend. She knew there was something more behind his usual expression, but she didn't know if it was real or just her imagination.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted out, quickly turning in that direction, not waiting for a reaction.
She closed the door behind her and covered her face with her hands. She wanted to escape from what had just happened.
She wasn't sure if this wasn't how everyone felt when they were noticed by someone they liked. She felt like she was in heaven, even though she should have been in hell. She wasn't even surprised that she had a smile on her face that wanted to disappear. She was simultaneously happy and afraid. After all, she was interested in another person, but this was her father's friend, not to mention he was much older.
She walked over to the speaker and only saw her own expression out of the corner of her eye. She bent down to splash the icy water on her face. It cooled her emotions a little, but only a little.
She stared at the sink, her hands clenching around it, and sighed in frustration.
"Why not someone else?"
She took one last breath and opened the door. She was surprised to see James standing before her. They stared at each other for far too long, and she tried to resist the temptation to bring her hand to his face.
"Your father asked if I could see what was taking you so long?" he began to explain nervously.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She took another shaky breath, seeing the worried expression on his face.
"I just…" She began quietly. "Everything's okay. Um… I need…"
She slowly started to close the door, knowing she was making a complete fool of herself, but she didn't know what else to do.
"What's going on?" He stopped the door with his hand, and she felt her muscles stiffen and looked at him, frightened. "Did I do something?"
Yes, you exist. She thought.
"Nothing." She just shook her head. "I just…" She pointed toward the bathroom she was in. She knew her face was burning with her stupidity.
"Tell me, if I did something?" This time, there was worry in his voice. Real worry.
"Really nothing." She raised her voice, desperately trying to wipe away his worried expression. "I really need to use this again." This time her voice wasn't weak, and she just tried to smile to confirm it. "I really did. She didn't do anything. Not my day. Tell her I'll be right there."
Okay." He was clearly unconvinced, but he didn't press the issue and let go of the door. "Bucky. Calls me that, doll."
Her stomach lurched at the nickname.
"Sure." This time she actually smiled, even wider than she wanted, and she wanted to jump for joy. Even scream.
He stopped the door again, and she saw something in his expression, something she didn't quite grasp. But before she could ask, he opened the door wider, and she began to back away as he began to enter the hanging room. The question was written on her face, but she also felt something jump in her stomach, especially when the door closed behind her. The lock.
He glanced at her, and she saw something dangerous in his eyes. She'd never seen anyone with so many emotions etched on their faces, and perhaps she could easily read him.
She felt his warm, large hand on her cheek and gave in easily, nuzzling her face. For seconds, her body was working automatically, and when she realized what was happening, she quickly pulled away.
"I…"
This time, he grabbed her in both hands, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. He didn't say anything, just stared at her silently, not at her body, her skin, her lips, just her eyes. It was more intimate than anything she'd experienced in her life. She could have drowned in his light blue eyes, which reminded her of a calm ocean. And he was so calm, waiting, though she didn't know what was happening, or rather, her mind couldn't comprehend it all.
But it was she who broke eye contact first when she glanced at his lips. She quickly fled, embarrassed by her behavior. Of course, it was impossible to see, and only he moved closer to her until their noses touched. She smelt his wrists, suffocating at the closeness, the way he smelled. Not a strong perfume like most men, but something delicate, even sweet. But all her attention was focused on his breath and she hadn't expected the smell of papers. She loved and hated it at the same time.
She raised her eyes and saw a nervous question in it. Just to confirm what she wanted, she moved a little closer to him, but their lips still didn't meet. Until he leaned in even closer and she felt it on hers. She hadn't known something like that could be so pleasant, it made her feel alive again. The taste of cigarettes and cherries lingered on her lips. She thought he drank alcohol like everyone else, but it was a pleasant surprise when it turned out he was doing it deliberately. It gave her butterflies.
He deepened the kiss, but not so much that it overwhelmed her, but rather to explore what he could do next. She wasn't sure if he could easily tell it was her first kiss, because she wasn't sure what to do next, so she tried to open her mouth wider. This encouraged him to slide his tongue across her lips. He tried to mirror his movement, but she felt him give him control, and he placed one of his hands on her back to pull her closer. She put her hands on his shirt, just to grip onto something, as he began kissing her waistband, which began to engulf her as she felt the cold sink behind him.
He slid his hand from her back, lower, along her hips, until he touched her ass. He didn't squeeze, just held her there. He pulled back for a second to catch his breath, then returned without wasting time. This time, she felt the power in his hand as he grabbed the back of her head and held her, as he tried to pull away to catch his breath. She felt him groan against her lips, and she couldn't stop the shivers in her body. He didn't want this to ever end.
She felt her own panties stick to clit, and she instinctively began to rub her hips together. She felt him push his leg between hers until she felt herself buck against his body. She moaned so loudly in the aftermath that she felt his body press harder against hers. She felt his hand leave her head and slide down, until he tucked it under her shirt.
"Honey, what's going on? And where's Jame?"
Everything was shattered when she heard her mother's voice from the doorway. They both froze and realized what was happening. They separated quickly, breathing heavily. She heard a knock.
"Honey?"
"Everything's okay." She could barely speak, trying to speak normally, but her cracked voice gave everything away.
"You don't sound well."
"Really, everything's okay." She sounded better this time. "I think James went out for a smoke." She saw the person her mother was looking for trying to hide a smile, she trying too.
"Okay. But—"
"It's just my period." She felt her face grow warm.
"Okay. If you need anything, just tell me." Of course she was worried.
"Okay. I'll be right there."
She heard a footstep disappearing behind the door, staring at Bucky, whose face was filled with various emotions. Guilt was the most obvious, and she felt like crying.
dividers by @dollywons & @saradika-graphics
Mr. James
dbf!bucky x reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: +18, AU Moder, f!reader, dbf!bucky, Age gap, very detailed kissing?, a little sadness, reader is horny, mention of porn, love at first sight or just physical attraction, smoking Summary: She meets his father's best friend.
ʚଓ masterlist
She'd come home for the holidays. She missed her family terribly. They hadn't seen them for months, and conversations were few and far between, everyone busy with their own affairs. He didn't have much time for each other's company, or rather, none at all. The fact that she hadn't found anyone, not even a single soul who didn't know anyone else, was strange. So she spent almost all her time alone in her room, and she hardly saw her co-stars at all. So, returning to her hometown was the only thing he'd been thinking about for the past few weeks.
She knew that before the holidays, there was always her father's birthday, a day that had been neglected by family and friends. She was going to meet her father's new friend, about whom he'd heard little and much at the same time. He described him as a quiet guest, but upon closer inspection, he became more open. He moved in not long after she left for her final year of college. He helped other neighbors, but she always described the look on his face as if he was doing it as a punishment, even though she denied it.
Every time they spoke, her father mentioned him and how she couldn't wait to meet him. However, they didn't mention how handsome he was, even though he was only slightly younger than her parents. And it was clear he was older, but in a way that made him beautiful.
When he saw him, she froze and couldn't stop looking at him, at each of his shoulders, his head, his hands. She couldn't focus on how her father was somehow telling stories about him and James. He just nodded, staring at the tall, large man with dark, curly hair and a well-trimmed beard.
"Mr. James."
Every time her father always added Mr. or Ms. when she spoke to her about her friends, reminding her to respect them. Now she felt something other than respect for James, something she shouldn't have felt.
As she became an adult and began to understand adult things more, she wondered why she never acted like other teenagers. Falling in love with someone at first sight for a week and forgetting, or being forgotten and crying until it happened again. And yet, she wondered what was wrong with her. Not to mention that she felt no sexual attraction to anyone. She could find someone attractive, but she didn't feel the desire to do anything about it. She even saw porn, but that didn't work either and was boring. And simply she knew they where acting, and it made her feel lonely.Until someone started talking about thers dating life, and everything went south because she'd never been with anyone. She'd never even kissed anyone, and no one had ever shown any interest in her. Sometimes she want to cry because of that.
But something had changed, and it was a welcome change, as long as it wasn't an older man, but the worst part was that he was her father's friend. She knew she couldn't do anything about it, because what could she do? Ask James if he wanted to go on a date with her? It was the first time she'd seen him. She didn't believe in love at first sight, but she was beginning to believe that someone could be instantly attractive. Now she just stood there, staring at him, trying to keep her eyes level with his face and not drop lower to his broad shoulders. Along his chest, to his hands holding glasses. She hadn't known that someone's hands, hung higher than hers, could be so attractive. I wonder what they could do-
She quickly returned her gaze to his face, taking a breath and trying to calm herself. She wasn't surprised, however, to find her eyes studying him closely. She knew his expression. She smiled to herself, looking away from him as her father continued to speak, but she hadn't been listening to him for a long time. She looked back at him, their eyes meeting, and he lingered on her for a second too long as he glanced back at his friend. She knew there was something more behind his usual expression, but she didn't know if it was real or just her imagination.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted out, quickly turning in that direction, not waiting for a reaction.
She closed the door behind her and covered her face with her hands. She wanted to escape from what had just happened.
She wasn't sure if this wasn't how everyone felt when they were noticed by someone they liked. She felt like she was in heaven, even though she should have been in hell. She wasn't even surprised that she had a smile on her face that wanted to disappear. She was simultaneously happy and afraid. After all, she was interested in another person, but this was her father's friend, not to mention he was much older.
She walked over to the speaker and only saw her own expression out of the corner of her eye. She bent down to splash the icy water on her face. It cooled her emotions a little, but only a little.
She stared at the sink, her hands clenching around it, and sighed in frustration.
"Why not someone else?"
She took one last breath and opened the door. She was surprised to see James standing before her. They stared at each other for far too long, and she tried to resist the temptation to bring her hand to his face.
"Your father asked if I could see what was taking you so long?" he began to explain nervously.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She took another shaky breath, seeing the worried expression on his face.
"I just…" She began quietly. "Everything's okay. Um… I need…"
She slowly started to close the door, knowing she was making a complete fool of herself, but she didn't know what else to do.
"What's going on?" He stopped the door with his hand, and she felt her muscles stiffen and looked at him, frightened. "Did I do something?"
Yes, you exist. She thought.
"Nothing." She just shook her head. "I just…" She pointed toward the bathroom she was in. She knew her face was burning with her stupidity.
"Tell me, if I did something?" This time, there was worry in his voice. Real worry.
"Really nothing." She raised her voice, desperately trying to wipe away his worried expression. "I really need to use this again." This time her voice wasn't weak, and she just tried to smile to confirm it. "I really did. She didn't do anything. Not my day. Tell her I'll be right there."
Okay." He was clearly unconvinced, but he didn't press the issue and let go of the door. "Bucky. Calls me that, doll."
Her stomach lurched at the nickname.
"Sure." This time she actually smiled, even wider than she wanted, and she wanted to jump for joy. Even scream.
He stopped the door again, and she saw something in his expression, something she didn't quite grasp. But before she could ask, he opened the door wider, and she began to back away as he began to enter the hanging room. The question was written on her face, but she also felt something jump in her stomach, especially when the door closed behind her. The lock.
He glanced at her, and she saw something dangerous in his eyes. She'd never seen anyone with so many emotions etched on their faces, and perhaps she could easily read him.
She felt his warm, large hand on her cheek and gave in easily, nuzzling her face. For seconds, her body was working automatically, and when she realized what was happening, she quickly pulled away.
"I…"
This time, he grabbed her in both hands, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. He didn't say anything, just stared at her silently, not at her body, her skin, her lips, just her eyes. It was more intimate than anything she'd experienced in her life. She could have drowned in his light blue eyes, which reminded her of a calm ocean. And he was so calm, waiting, though she didn't know what was happening, or rather, her mind couldn't comprehend it all.
But it was she who broke eye contact first when she glanced at his lips. She quickly fled, embarrassed by her behavior. Of course, it was impossible to see, and only he moved closer to her until their noses touched. She smelt his wrists, suffocating at the closeness, the way he smelled. Not a strong perfume like most men, but something delicate, even sweet. But all her attention was focused on his breath and she hadn't expected the smell of papers. She loved and hated it at the same time.
She raised her eyes and saw a nervous question in it. Just to confirm what she wanted, she moved a little closer to him, but their lips still didn't meet. Until he leaned in even closer and she felt it on hers. She hadn't known something like that could be so pleasant, it made her feel alive again. The taste of cigarettes and cherries lingered on her lips. She thought he drank alcohol like everyone else, but it was a pleasant surprise when it turned out he was doing it deliberately. It gave her butterflies.
He deepened the kiss, but not so much that it overwhelmed her, but rather to explore what he could do next. She wasn't sure if he could easily tell it was her first kiss, because she wasn't sure what to do next, so she tried to open her mouth wider. This encouraged him to slide his tongue across her lips. He tried to mirror his movement, but she felt him give him control, and he placed one of his hands on her back to pull her closer. She put her hands on his shirt, just to grip onto something, as he began kissing her waistband, which began to engulf her as she felt the cold sink behind him.
He slid his hand from her back, lower, along her hips, until he touched her ass. He didn't squeeze, just held her there. He pulled back for a second to catch his breath, then returned without wasting time. This time, she felt the power in his hand as he grabbed the back of her head and held her, as he tried to pull away to catch his breath. She felt him groan against her lips, and she couldn't stop the shivers in her body. He didn't want this to ever end.
She felt her own panties stick to clit, and she instinctively began to rub her hips together. She felt him push his leg between hers until she felt herself buck against his body. She moaned so loudly in the aftermath that she felt his body press harder against hers. She felt his hand leave her head and slide down, until he tucked it under her shirt.
"Honey, what's going on? And where's Jame?"
Everything was shattered when she heard her mother's voice from the doorway. They both froze and realized what was happening. They separated quickly, breathing heavily. She heard a knock.
"Honey?"
"Everything's okay." She could barely speak, trying to speak normally, but her cracked voice gave everything away.
"You don't sound well."
"Really, everything's okay." She sounded better this time. "I think James went out for a smoke." She saw the person her mother was looking for trying to hide a smile, she trying too.
"Okay. But—"
"It's just my period." She felt her face grow warm.
"Okay. If you need anything, just tell me." Of course she was worried.
"Okay. I'll be right there."
She heard a footstep disappearing behind the door, staring at Bucky, whose face was filled with various emotions. Guilt was the most obvious, and she felt like crying.
dividers by @dollywons & @saradika-graphics
Mr. James
dbf!bucky x reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: +18, AU Moder, f!reader, dbf!bucky, Age gap, very detailed kissing?, a little sadness, reader is horny, mention of porn, love at first sight or just physical attraction, smoking Summary: She meets his father's best friend.
ʚଓ masterlist
She'd come home for the holidays. She missed her family terribly. They hadn't seen them for months, and conversations were few and far between, everyone busy with their own affairs. He didn't have much time for each other's company, or rather, none at all. The fact that she hadn't found anyone, not even a single soul who didn't know anyone else, was strange. So she spent almost all her time alone in her room, and she hardly saw her co-stars at all. So, returning to her hometown was the only thing he'd been thinking about for the past few weeks.
She knew that before the holidays, there was always her father's birthday, a day that had been neglected by family and friends. She was going to meet her father's new friend, about whom he'd heard little and much at the same time. He described him as a quiet guest, but upon closer inspection, he became more open. He moved in not long after she left for her final year of college. He helped other neighbors, but she always described the look on his face as if he was doing it as a punishment, even though she denied it.
Every time they spoke, her father mentioned him and how she couldn't wait to meet him. However, they didn't mention how handsome he was, even though he was only slightly younger than her parents. And it was clear he was older, but in a way that made him beautiful.
When he saw him, she froze and couldn't stop looking at him, at each of his shoulders, his head, his hands. She couldn't focus on how her father was somehow telling stories about him and James. He just nodded, staring at the tall, large man with dark, curly hair and a well-trimmed beard.
"Mr. James."
Every time her father always added Mr. or Ms. when she spoke to her about her friends, reminding her to respect them. Now she felt something other than respect for James, something she shouldn't have felt.
As she became an adult and began to understand adult things more, she wondered why she never acted like other teenagers. Falling in love with someone at first sight for a week and forgetting, or being forgotten and crying until it happened again. And yet, she wondered what was wrong with her. Not to mention that she felt no sexual attraction to anyone. She could find someone attractive, but she didn't feel the desire to do anything about it. She even saw porn, but that didn't work either and was boring. And simply she knew they where acting, and it made her feel lonely.Until someone started talking about thers dating life, and everything went south because she'd never been with anyone. She'd never even kissed anyone, and no one had ever shown any interest in her. Sometimes she want to cry because of that.
But something had changed, and it was a welcome change, as long as it wasn't an older man, but the worst part was that he was her father's friend. She knew she couldn't do anything about it, because what could she do? Ask James if he wanted to go on a date with her? It was the first time she'd seen him. She didn't believe in love at first sight, but she was beginning to believe that someone could be instantly attractive. Now she just stood there, staring at him, trying to keep her eyes level with his face and not drop lower to his broad shoulders. Along his chest, to his hands holding glasses. She hadn't known that someone's hands, hung higher than hers, could be so attractive. I wonder what they could do-
She quickly returned her gaze to his face, taking a breath and trying to calm herself. She wasn't surprised, however, to find her eyes studying him closely. She knew his expression. She smiled to herself, looking away from him as her father continued to speak, but she hadn't been listening to him for a long time. She looked back at him, their eyes meeting, and he lingered on her for a second too long as he glanced back at his friend. She knew there was something more behind his usual expression, but she didn't know if it was real or just her imagination.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted out, quickly turning in that direction, not waiting for a reaction.
She closed the door behind her and covered her face with her hands. She wanted to escape from what had just happened.
She wasn't sure if this wasn't how everyone felt when they were noticed by someone they liked. She felt like she was in heaven, even though she should have been in hell. She wasn't even surprised that she had a smile on her face that wanted to disappear. She was simultaneously happy and afraid. After all, she was interested in another person, but this was her father's friend, not to mention he was much older.
She walked over to the speaker and only saw her own expression out of the corner of her eye. She bent down to splash the icy water on her face. It cooled her emotions a little, but only a little.
She stared at the sink, her hands clenching around it, and sighed in frustration.
"Why not someone else?"
She took one last breath and opened the door. She was surprised to see James standing before her. They stared at each other for far too long, and she tried to resist the temptation to bring her hand to his face.
"Your father asked if I could see what was taking you so long?" he began to explain nervously.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She took another shaky breath, seeing the worried expression on his face.
"I just…" She began quietly. "Everything's okay. Um… I need…"
She slowly started to close the door, knowing she was making a complete fool of herself, but she didn't know what else to do.
"What's going on?" He stopped the door with his hand, and she felt her muscles stiffen and looked at him, frightened. "Did I do something?"
Yes, you exist. She thought.
"Nothing." She just shook her head. "I just…" She pointed toward the bathroom she was in. She knew her face was burning with her stupidity.
"Tell me, if I did something?" This time, there was worry in his voice. Real worry.
"Really nothing." She raised her voice, desperately trying to wipe away his worried expression. "I really need to use this again." This time her voice wasn't weak, and she just tried to smile to confirm it. "I really did. She didn't do anything. Not my day. Tell her I'll be right there."
Okay." He was clearly unconvinced, but he didn't press the issue and let go of the door. "Bucky. Calls me that, doll."
Her stomach lurched at the nickname.
"Sure." This time she actually smiled, even wider than she wanted, and she wanted to jump for joy. Even scream.
He stopped the door again, and she saw something in his expression, something she didn't quite grasp. But before she could ask, he opened the door wider, and she began to back away as he began to enter the hanging room. The question was written on her face, but she also felt something jump in her stomach, especially when the door closed behind her. The lock.
He glanced at her, and she saw something dangerous in his eyes. She'd never seen anyone with so many emotions etched on their faces, and perhaps she could easily read him.
She felt his warm, large hand on her cheek and gave in easily, nuzzling her face. For seconds, her body was working automatically, and when she realized what was happening, she quickly pulled away.
"I…"
This time, he grabbed her in both hands, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. He didn't say anything, just stared at her silently, not at her body, her skin, her lips, just her eyes. It was more intimate than anything she'd experienced in her life. She could have drowned in his light blue eyes, which reminded her of a calm ocean. And he was so calm, waiting, though she didn't know what was happening, or rather, her mind couldn't comprehend it all.
But it was she who broke eye contact first when she glanced at his lips. She quickly fled, embarrassed by her behavior. Of course, it was impossible to see, and only he moved closer to her until their noses touched. She smelt his wrists, suffocating at the closeness, the way he smelled. Not a strong perfume like most men, but something delicate, even sweet. But all her attention was focused on his breath and she hadn't expected the smell of papers. She loved and hated it at the same time.
She raised her eyes and saw a nervous question in it. Just to confirm what she wanted, she moved a little closer to him, but their lips still didn't meet. Until he leaned in even closer and she felt it on hers. She hadn't known something like that could be so pleasant, it made her feel alive again. The taste of cigarettes and cherries lingered on her lips. She thought he drank alcohol like everyone else, but it was a pleasant surprise when it turned out he was doing it deliberately. It gave her butterflies.
He deepened the kiss, but not so much that it overwhelmed her, but rather to explore what he could do next. She wasn't sure if he could easily tell it was her first kiss, because she wasn't sure what to do next, so she tried to open her mouth wider. This encouraged him to slide his tongue across her lips. He tried to mirror his movement, but she felt him give him control, and he placed one of his hands on her back to pull her closer. She put her hands on his shirt, just to grip onto something, as he began kissing her waistband, which began to engulf her as she felt the cold sink behind him.
He slid his hand from her back, lower, along her hips, until he touched her ass. He didn't squeeze, just held her there. He pulled back for a second to catch his breath, then returned without wasting time. This time, she felt the power in his hand as he grabbed the back of her head and held her, as he tried to pull away to catch his breath. She felt him groan against her lips, and she couldn't stop the shivers in her body. He didn't want this to ever end.
She felt her own panties stick to clit, and she instinctively began to rub her hips together. She felt him push his leg between hers until she felt herself buck against his body. She moaned so loudly in the aftermath that she felt his body press harder against hers. She felt his hand leave her head and slide down, until he tucked it under her shirt.
"Honey, what's going on? And where's Jame?"
Everything was shattered when she heard her mother's voice from the doorway. They both froze and realized what was happening. They separated quickly, breathing heavily. She heard a knock.
"Honey?"
"Everything's okay." She could barely speak, trying to speak normally, but her cracked voice gave everything away.
"You don't sound well."
"Really, everything's okay." She sounded better this time. "I think James went out for a smoke." She saw the person her mother was looking for trying to hide a smile, she trying too.
"Okay. But—"
"It's just my period." She felt her face grow warm.
"Okay. If you need anything, just tell me." Of course she was worried.
"Okay. I'll be right there."
She heard a footstep disappearing behind the door, staring at Bucky, whose face was filled with various emotions. Guilt was the most obvious, and she felt like crying.
dividers by @dollywons & @saradika-graphics
Mr. James
dbf!bucky x reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: +18, AU Moder, f!reader, dbf!bucky, Age gap, very detailed kissing?, a little sadness, reader is horny, mention of porn, love at first sight or just physical attraction, smoking Summary: She meets his father's best friend.
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She'd come home for the holidays. She missed her family terribly. They hadn't seen them for months, and conversations were few and far between, everyone busy with their own affairs. He didn't have much time for each other's company, or rather, none at all. The fact that she hadn't found anyone, not even a single soul who didn't know anyone else, was strange. So she spent almost all her time alone in her room, and she hardly saw her co-stars at all. So, returning to her hometown was the only thing he'd been thinking about for the past few weeks.
She knew that before the holidays, there was always her father's birthday, a day that had been neglected by family and friends. She was going to meet her father's new friend, about whom he'd heard little and much at the same time. He described him as a quiet guest, but upon closer inspection, he became more open. He moved in not long after she left for her final year of college. He helped other neighbors, but she always described the look on his face as if he was doing it as a punishment, even though she denied it.
Every time they spoke, her father mentioned him and how she couldn't wait to meet him. However, they didn't mention how handsome he was, even though he was only slightly younger than her parents. And it was clear he was older, but in a way that made him beautiful.
When he saw him, she froze and couldn't stop looking at him, at each of his shoulders, his head, his hands. She couldn't focus on how her father was somehow telling stories about him and James. He just nodded, staring at the tall, large man with dark, curly hair and a well-trimmed beard.
"Mr. James."
Every time her father always added Mr. or Ms. when she spoke to her about her friends, reminding her to respect them. Now she felt something other than respect for James, something she shouldn't have felt.
As she became an adult and began to understand adult things more, she wondered why she never acted like other teenagers. Falling in love with someone at first sight for a week and forgetting, or being forgotten and crying until it happened again. And yet, she wondered what was wrong with her. Not to mention that she felt no sexual attraction to anyone. She could find someone attractive, but she didn't feel the desire to do anything about it. She even saw porn, but that didn't work either and was boring. And simply she knew they where acting, and it made her feel lonely.Until someone started talking about thers dating life, and everything went south because she'd never been with anyone. She'd never even kissed anyone, and no one had ever shown any interest in her. Sometimes she want to cry because of that.
But something had changed, and it was a welcome change, as long as it wasn't an older man, but the worst part was that he was her father's friend. She knew she couldn't do anything about it, because what could she do? Ask James if he wanted to go on a date with her? It was the first time she'd seen him. She didn't believe in love at first sight, but she was beginning to believe that someone could be instantly attractive. Now she just stood there, staring at him, trying to keep her eyes level with his face and not drop lower to his broad shoulders. Along his chest, to his hands holding glasses. She hadn't known that someone's hands, hung higher than hers, could be so attractive. I wonder what they could do-
She quickly returned her gaze to his face, taking a breath and trying to calm herself. She wasn't surprised, however, to find her eyes studying him closely. She knew his expression. She smiled to herself, looking away from him as her father continued to speak, but she hadn't been listening to him for a long time. She looked back at him, their eyes meeting, and he lingered on her for a second too long as he glanced back at his friend. She knew there was something more behind his usual expression, but she didn't know if it was real or just her imagination.
"I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted out, quickly turning in that direction, not waiting for a reaction.
She closed the door behind her and covered her face with her hands. She wanted to escape from what had just happened.
She wasn't sure if this wasn't how everyone felt when they were noticed by someone they liked. She felt like she was in heaven, even though she should have been in hell. She wasn't even surprised that she had a smile on her face that wanted to disappear. She was simultaneously happy and afraid. After all, she was interested in another person, but this was her father's friend, not to mention he was much older.
She walked over to the speaker and only saw her own expression out of the corner of her eye. She bent down to splash the icy water on her face. It cooled her emotions a little, but only a little.
She stared at the sink, her hands clenching around it, and sighed in frustration.
"Why not someone else?"
She took one last breath and opened the door. She was surprised to see James standing before her. They stared at each other for far too long, and she tried to resist the temptation to bring her hand to his face.
"Your father asked if I could see what was taking you so long?" he began to explain nervously.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She took another shaky breath, seeing the worried expression on his face.
"I just…" She began quietly. "Everything's okay. Um… I need…"
She slowly started to close the door, knowing she was making a complete fool of herself, but she didn't know what else to do.
"What's going on?" He stopped the door with his hand, and she felt her muscles stiffen and looked at him, frightened. "Did I do something?"
Yes, you exist. She thought.
"Nothing." She just shook her head. "I just…" She pointed toward the bathroom she was in. She knew her face was burning with her stupidity.
"Tell me, if I did something?" This time, there was worry in his voice. Real worry.
"Really nothing." She raised her voice, desperately trying to wipe away his worried expression. "I really need to use this again." This time her voice wasn't weak, and she just tried to smile to confirm it. "I really did. She didn't do anything. Not my day. Tell her I'll be right there."
Okay." He was clearly unconvinced, but he didn't press the issue and let go of the door. "Bucky. Calls me that, doll."
Her stomach lurched at the nickname.
"Sure." This time she actually smiled, even wider than she wanted, and she wanted to jump for joy. Even scream.
He stopped the door again, and she saw something in his expression, something she didn't quite grasp. But before she could ask, he opened the door wider, and she began to back away as he began to enter the hanging room. The question was written on her face, but she also felt something jump in her stomach, especially when the door closed behind her. The lock.
He glanced at her, and she saw something dangerous in his eyes. She'd never seen anyone with so many emotions etched on their faces, and perhaps she could easily read him.
She felt his warm, large hand on her cheek and gave in easily, nuzzling her face. For seconds, her body was working automatically, and when she realized what was happening, she quickly pulled away.
"I…"
This time, he grabbed her in both hands, forcing her to look him straight in the eye. He didn't say anything, just stared at her silently, not at her body, her skin, her lips, just her eyes. It was more intimate than anything she'd experienced in her life. She could have drowned in his light blue eyes, which reminded her of a calm ocean. And he was so calm, waiting, though she didn't know what was happening, or rather, her mind couldn't comprehend it all.
But it was she who broke eye contact first when she glanced at his lips. She quickly fled, embarrassed by her behavior. Of course, it was impossible to see, and only he moved closer to her until their noses touched. She smelt his wrists, suffocating at the closeness, the way he smelled. Not a strong perfume like most men, but something delicate, even sweet. But all her attention was focused on his breath and she hadn't expected the smell of papers. She loved and hated it at the same time.
She raised her eyes and saw a nervous question in it. Just to confirm what she wanted, she moved a little closer to him, but their lips still didn't meet. Until he leaned in even closer and she felt it on hers. She hadn't known something like that could be so pleasant, it made her feel alive again. The taste of cigarettes and cherries lingered on her lips. She thought he drank alcohol like everyone else, but it was a pleasant surprise when it turned out he was doing it deliberately. It gave her butterflies.
He deepened the kiss, but not so much that it overwhelmed her, but rather to explore what he could do next. She wasn't sure if he could easily tell it was her first kiss, because she wasn't sure what to do next, so she tried to open her mouth wider. This encouraged him to slide his tongue across her lips. He tried to mirror his movement, but she felt him give him control, and he placed one of his hands on her back to pull her closer. She put her hands on his shirt, just to grip onto something, as he began kissing her waistband, which began to engulf her as she felt the cold sink behind him.
He slid his hand from her back, lower, along her hips, until he touched her ass. He didn't squeeze, just held her there. He pulled back for a second to catch his breath, then returned without wasting time. This time, she felt the power in his hand as he grabbed the back of her head and held her, as he tried to pull away to catch his breath. She felt him groan against her lips, and she couldn't stop the shivers in her body. He didn't want this to ever end.
She felt her own panties stick to clit, and she instinctively began to rub her hips together. She felt him push his leg between hers until she felt herself buck against his body. She moaned so loudly in the aftermath that she felt his body press harder against hers. She felt his hand leave her head and slide down, until he tucked it under her shirt.
"Honey, what's going on? And where's Jame?"
Everything was shattered when she heard her mother's voice from the doorway. They both froze and realized what was happening. They separated quickly, breathing heavily. She heard a knock.
"Honey?"
"Everything's okay." She could barely speak, trying to speak normally, but her cracked voice gave everything away.
"You don't sound well."
"Really, everything's okay." She sounded better this time. "I think James went out for a smoke." She saw the person her mother was looking for trying to hide a smile, she trying too.
"Okay. But—"
"It's just my period." She felt her face grow warm.
"Okay. If you need anything, just tell me." Of course she was worried.
"Okay. I'll be right there."
She heard a footstep disappearing behind the door, staring at Bucky, whose face was filled with various emotions. Guilt was the most obvious, and she felt like crying.
dividers by @dollywons & @saradika-graphics
a small gift
bucky x reader Word Count: 11.1k Warnings:: au mafia; fluf; angst; mafia!bucky; little a bit stalker!bucky; barista!reader; soft!bucky; f!reader; brif mens of clouse; shy!reader; use of nickname: sweetheart, doll; Summary: One day you received a gift from a stranger and with each passing day you received more and more gifts…
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The last thing you wanted was to search for a gift that couldn't please anyone, but you always have to find excuses to please someone at your own expense. However, you didn't want to show up empty-handed, as it bothered no one. Except perhaps yourself.
As you walked, you noticed a flower shop with flowers that looked beautiful. The colors blended beautifully, revealing nothing about the fragrance. The sweet scent delighted your nostrils as you approached. You didn't look inside, just stared. Perhaps it was a gift you could give, but you weren't sure how much it would cost. You didn't want a full bouquet, but three flowers would look sad next to each other.
You didn't touch the flower petals, you just approached them and inhaled.
Pink tulips.
You froze, realizing you couldn't buy them after seeing the price.
Luckily, you didn't see anyone nearby, and without even checking, you quickly walked away. You shouldn't have been embarrassed, but you felt it anyway. It was a silly feeling that also reminded you of how long ago you'd received the flowers.
College.
Which you didn't want to go back to. Which you hadn't even finished, let alone paid off, which you were still paying off to this day. You didn't even know why you went to college, or rather, you did. But you didn't want to think about it, not even about it.
Now you were reminded of your ex-boyfriend, whom you didn't want to think about either.
But before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, which were weighing even more heavily on your mind, someone interrupted you.
"These are for you."
You glanced at the man in front of you. Tall, very tall. You didn't want to say you'd never seen anyone that tall, and that would be a lie, because you'd probably met someone, even knew who.
Don't think about it. You repeated to youself.
Beautiful, handsome. You weren't sure how to assess this person before you. Dressed in dark colors, a little too elegantly. Too elegant. Longish brown hair, a well-trimmed beard. But his eyes. Beautiful blue eyes. Reminiscent of a calm sea. But his gaze was strange. There was something behind them. Curiosity? Softness? Or maybe danger. You weren't sure. Or maybe you didn't want to know.
Only after a moment did you realize he was holding something in his hands. You glanced at what he had in them and were surprised to see the flowers. The very ones you wanted to buy. The ones you almost touched. The ones you saw moments ago. You glanced back at the stranger and weren't entirely sure what to do, or rather, what to say.
"Thank you, but I can't accept this." You said timidly, nervously shifting the bag on your shoulder, trying to guess your own feelings.
"And I insisted." "He pushed the gift closer to you. It was almost as if they were already in your arms. "Something beautiful for a beautiful lady."
You stood there, staring at him. Pleasant shivers ran down your spine, and you smiled shyly. You looked away from his penetrating gaze. You felt warmth begin to envelop your face.
"Thank you," you said, but you didn't reach for the flowers. You wanted to reach for them, but…
You hadn't received such a compliment in a long time. Not even from a handsome man. You have fallen so low.
"Accepting them would be a thank you, sweetheart."
You looked at him, surprised when he used that word, because a stranger wouldn't say such things.
"We've known each other for five seconds." It sounded an octave higher than you intended.
"That's enough for me." His self-confident smile was starting to intimidate you with each passing second.
Now you saw that he was older than you, but not so much that it bothered you. You weren't young yourself, but you were definitely younger than him.
It would still make it seem like something was wrong with him, but you weren't sure what. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, almost too intensely, with that smile. Softly, when he looked at you with a slightly chilled expression. As if he saw something in you that you couldn't. Maybe you forgotten what it was like to have someone look at you.
Truly see you.
"These flowers suit you very well. Here." He practically shoved them into your hand, and you couldn't do anything about it.
"They're beautiful." You glanced at them as you said it.
"Just like you."
You glanced at him quickly, trying not to cringe at his words, and returned your gaze to the flowers.
You let out a fake laugh.
"You probably say that a lot." You said before biting your tongue.
"No. Only to you." You glanced at him. He smiled at you as he spoke those words.
You felt yourself melt inside. You gripped the bouquet tightly.
But he began to look, somewhere behind you.
"I have to. See you later."
Before you could do or say anything, he quickly moved away from you. You stood in the middle of the sidewalk in shock, unsure of what had just happened. Your brain needed time to process everything, where your body was, you already knew everything. What a strange, new sensation began to invade your body.
A very, very handsome older man, complimenting you. He gave you flowers. For no reason.
You felt strangely grateful, though you didn't want to accept anything about it so quickly, but the smile on your face said otherwise. You felt your stomach tighten as you glanced at the flowers, because they were the same ones you seen earlier. And as you returned home, you told yourself it was just a coincidence, and even if it wasn't, he probably saw you looking at them. Sometimes that happens, after all.
You've completely forgotten why you even went shopping.
You were just standing behind the counter and didn't expect to see him. The very next day. At your place of work, smiling at you when he saw you. Just like yesterday.
Coincidence, right?
"We meet again." He didn't even say hello.
"Yes…" You said a little late. "What can I get you?" You asked politely, trying to resist his gaze, which made you feel small.
"I'll take your word for it?" he said, leaning against the counter and tilting his head slightly in your direction.
"What do you like?" You asked, trying to sound professional.
"You decide. I think whatever you choose will be good."
You glanced at him for a moment wary. You knew what he was trying to convey with his words, but as you can see, things don't always work. Just like now. Maybe he sounded too much like a man who does too much.
"I don't think so. Not everyone likes the same things." You said it more to yourself than to him.
"Let's find out. What do you recommend?"
You sighed, a little dissatisfied, and glanced at the menu, which you were already familiar with, but you tried to buy yourself some time. Not because you couldn't hold his gaze, behind which there were too many hidden things.
"Icelate?"
"And dessert?"
"Croissant?" It was the first thing that caught your eye.
"And what do you usually get?"
You glanced at him. You were very, very sure he was flirting with you. You tried to ignore it every time. Not only because you had little experience with it, but also because it had been years since you remembered how it worked, though it should have been obvious. You weren't sure if you wanted to get involved either, even if it was nice to have someone notice you. However, you felt a certain distance within yourself. Maybe it was just nerves.
You told him, ignoring your feelings.
"Are you sure?" You asked, looking at him questioningly.
"Yes. I like trying new things." He paid, and you wanted to give him the change. "Keep the change."
"It's actually a hundred dollars." You laughed nervously.
"I know, keep it."
Your eyebrows shot up, and you wanted to give it back to him, but he interrupted you.
"A tip." He said without even looking at you, because he was staring at something behind the window, but when you looked, you couldn't see anything.
"Have you worked here long?"
Your gaze shifted from the window to him.
"Yes." You tried to fill his order as quickly as possible. "Two years." You added after a moment, for reasons unseen.
"It must be nice working in a place like this."
You glanced at him, but you couldn't read much into his expression. Was he interested in knowing more about you, or was he just trying to fill the silence between you?
"It's alright. The area is safe."
He didn't ask another question, just watched you. You tried to ignore him, but it was hard when he didn't even try to hide it. You wanted to tell him to stop, but you didn't want to deprive him of the satisfaction of it, not knowing how he would react. But you also felt ashamed, knowing how those words would sound. You were trapped.
He seemed pleased with the turn of events; perhaps he even noticed your discomfort, how you tried to hide your glances at him when he smiled at you.
"Good." He responded to your words, surprising you. He glanced around the room and then looked in your direction again. "If anyone starts causing trouble, tell me. I'll take care of them."
"What?"
You looked at him, not hiding your shock.
The words sounded like a threat, though their meaning was far more dangerous. You didn't know if it was a warning to you or for you. His relaxed expression seemed to suggest otherwise, but you didn't know how. You didn't harbor any animosity, or rather, you didn't know if you did. You could count on one hand the number of people you'd met, the ones you knew. You didn't think any customer you might have served poorly would want to do anything to you.
"Just tell me if anyone bothers you." There was no hint of hostility in his voice. As if what he was saying was a simple conversation about the weather. "And especially when you're coming home late alone." He finished, seeing your expression.
You placed his order, practically knocking everything down, and without waiting for his words, you quickly headed for the back.
"My name is Bucky."
You stopped and looked at him over your shoulder. But you didn't say anything, hiding from his gaze.
You started rearranging things, just to avoid attracting the attention of the manager, who was sitting in the next room. He could look over at any moment and see you.
You didn't want to dwell on his words and tried to ignore them, but all you could hear were his words ringing in your ears. You didn't want to admit to yourself that at first, when he said the first part, it was even charming, but the next part made your blood run cold. You don't say things like that and you'll get a normal reaction. Take care of. Which you didn't even know what it meant. Maybe if he said it differently. You would have even smiled, but he didn't have to say it that way.
You might be overthinking it. Probably. Right?
Unfortunately for you, you finished everything and had to go back to the counter. Luckily, you could breathe a sigh of relief when you saw he was gone, but there was something lying by the cash register. You knew what it was.
Pink tulips.
The same flowers he gave you yesterday, and you didn't even notice he was carrying them. You were more preoccupied with him than with the gift.
The next day, he arrived at the same time. You barely set foot behind the counter when he was already there, waiting.
As always, dressed in more than averagely elegant attire, you didn't want to dwell on his job for too long. Not realizing that it was also noon, but not lunchtime. You didn't expect him to be an average businessman who came to an average looking cafe.
You felt like the only reason he been here twice more than he should have was because of you. But only twice.
This time, you noticed the flowers. The same ones as yesterday and when you first met.
When his eyes saw you, his face lit up with joy, like a puppy. Which, of course, affected you more than it should have. His eyes warmed and softened. You felt a warm sensation spread through your body.
His words yesterday seemed more distant than you wanted them to be.
"Hi." He said first, leaning closer to you with his whole body so you could see his handsome face. "These are for you." He placed the flower in front of you. "I didn't give them to you straight away yesterday, but you ran away quickly." You felt warmth spread across your face despite yourself, and you weren't sure what you could read in his voice. Regret. Sadness. Just directed at you, to blame you, or at himself? You weren't sure. "And please, the same as yesterday." He didn't wait for you to say anything.
"You shouldn't give me flowers every time." You shoved the bill in your hand, trying to ignore his gaze, which was watching you with far too much intensity. "And you shouldn't say things like that." It shouldn't have sounded quiet, but you weren't controlling your voice at that moment.
Maybe a little scared.
You tried to ignore your own fear, which was creeping up on you despite yourself, but who could blame you, considering how his words sounded yesterday?
He's been looking at you for a moment.
"I know, but I'd rather you know I'm here if you need help." He spoke these words thoughtfully, to reassure you of his intentions. Don't apologize, and he didn't even look like one. "I don't want anything to happen to you."
You glanced at him from the counter, observing him carefully and pondering his words, which didn't exactly bring you much relief.
"You shouldn't say things like that."
"What do you mean? Because I'm not sure what you're getting at." He added the last sentence, seeing your questioning look.
You didn't want to say anything, knowing how it might sound, and somehow you didn't want to upset him, even if he didn't do anything. You just worded your words unconventionally.
You looked away before you could say anything. You didn't want to see his reaction when you whispered.
"As if someone were going to do something to me…" The uncertainty was evident in your voice, as was the nervousness.
"Nobody's going to hurt you." He said abruptly before you could finish a words, glancing at him sideways. His serious voice only confirmed his expression. "I won't allow it." He stood there, only to further confirm his words, and you felt small inside you. His seriousness shouldn't have surprised you, considering his appearance and the way he dressed, but his soft demeanor contrasted somewhat with his current demeanor.
You weren't sure how to interpret this.
Your expression was unconvinced. At least, that's what you thought. Maybe you had a slightly frightened look on your face as well, as his expression softened and relaxed.
"I'm serious." They leaned toward you again as you handed him what he ordered, pushing the flowers toward you. You wanted to give him the change you'd forgotten about for a moment. You should get a grip. "Keep it." He said, taking his order in his hand.
But he didn't start to leave, just looked at you again.
"You have good taste." He gestured towards what he held in his hands. "I think I'll be coming here every day, and not just for the food, but for you too, sweetheart." It was a promise.
Seeing your reaction, how your face began to heat up without your consent, he moved to leave, not even waiting for what you had to say.
You sighed, irritated at yourself, at him, and at the entire station.
At yourself for how you couldn't control yourself and how his words affected you. At him for never letting you get a word in edgewise. At how he always kept you in a corner and wouldn't let you escape. At stations where he had little influence on how things turned out.
There should have been a two-way conversation, but everything was coming from him, and you weren't sure you wanted to hear your opinion on anything. You wondered if he was the only one who found your looks attractive. Was that all he saw in you? Pretty face. It was still nice when someone appreciated your looks, but did that mean your personality meant nothing? Did he have your mind set on what kind of person you were, so he wouldn't let you get a word in?
Maybe it was an accident. Maybe you think too much. Too many of those things, maybe.
You felt a knot in your stomach, though you shouldn't. You had to remember that he was a man first, and like every man, he preferred to focus on himself and what he wanted, not on you.
You wasn't surprised when he showed up again the next day. Again with the same flowers. You felt like your apartment was turning into a flower shop. So you had to do somehow to convince him not to give you any more.
"You know, you don't have to give them to me every time." You said, taking care of his order.
"I want. They suit you. They're just as beautiful as you."
You bit your lip to hold back the smile that was starting to appear despite yourself. You took a breath, trying to control yourself, and focused your gaze on something else. This time, there was no one in the cafee. The middle of the week.
"I'm talking series. I have no room for them." You sighed, ignoring his words and saying what you honestly meant.
"Okay." he said, and this time you didn't see the smile, but before you could thank him, he forced it on you. "So what do you like? Jewelry? Gold? Silver? A bracelet? A necklace? Makeup? Or maybe some clothes?"
You glanced at him quickly, your mouth hanging open. You were speechless.
"Wait. What?"
"No. Maybe shoes—"
"No. Slow down." You gestured for him to stop. "Do you want to give me another gift?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I just want to give it to you."
"That's not an answer."
"It is. I just want to give it to you, so you'll remember me."
"Uh… I don't think it works that way."
"What didn't work that way?"
"Giving gifts. You're supposed to give someone something to remind them of you. Something meaningful, and not the first thing you see. Not to mention that we don't really know each other." You wanted to add that you wasn't sure if you wanted to, but you held back.
He studied your facial expression with his eyes for far too long, because his order was waiting on the counter. He didn't move, just watched you. He didn't say anything. There were no customers, so you couldn't tell him he hold the line.
"Would you like to go on a date with me?" He said as he leaned against the counter with his sly smile.
"That was nice, but I don't have time for that kind of thing." You tried to sound as polite as possible. You hid behind a smile, hoping he get the hint.
"You said i didn't know anything about you." He began slowly. "So you can find out."
"I know, but—"
"Please." He looked at you with his puppy eyes. "Or I could bring you a nice bracelet."
"Are you trying to bribe me?" You gave him a pointed look.
"Maybe?" He was amused by this station, and even by you. "Which one do you prefer?"
"I really don't have a choice?" You asked, even knowing how he would answer, though his eyes spoke louder than words. "Okay." You sighed. "A date. But I don't have time until next week."
"Maybe after work today?"
"No—"
"You doesn't have to change. You look good. We'll just have a nice time."
"Don't you have a job?" You gave him a suspicious look.
"I work for myself. I can take time off whenever I want."
"Okey, but I'm finishing late."
"What time?"
You didn't want to say anything. And just stare at each other.
You knew you should look away, because you felt your heart begin to beat faster with each passing second. You felt yourself beginning to drown in the depths of his blue eyes. You didn't want to, because you felt seen in a way you'd never been seen before. He didn't look away, just stared at yours, contentedly, from the turn of the station.
But you knew that the longer you looked at him, a strange smile began to bloom on your face. You knew you lost.
"At eight." You said, averting his gaze.
"I'll be here at eight." There was no judgment in his voice, or any other unpleasant feeling. Only a sense of freedom.
You ignored the fact that you weren't entirely convinced to go to dinner with him. Remembering how he wouldn't let you get a word in edgewise, you felt your hands freeze.
He didn't care.
He still wanted to get to know you. Maybe you were an idiot.
You didn't know if he noticed the change in your demeanor, and even if he did, he didn't comment.
"See you later, sweetheart." He said, smiling softly at you before turning to leave.
When you finished your shift, you went outside, and you knew he was waiting for you, leaning against a car you didn't know the brand of. However, you were absolutely certain it was one of the more expensive ones. Not the sporty ones that rich people drive just to show off, but one of those very elegant ones.
You knew he had money, but you still felt an uncontrollable urge to retreat into yourself. You felt dirty. Very conscious of your appearance. You weren't sweating, but you were tired, after standing on your feet all day and dealing with unfortunate clients. You were an ordinary person with a quiet, humble life. You shouldn't feel that way, but you did. Not to mention the fact that you'd never done what you wanted. You didn't work where you wanted. You're stuck in a job you wanted to quit, but you didn't have the courage, let alone what you wanted to do next.
"Nice car." You said, trying to ignore the overwhelming emotions that were starting to occupy your mind.
"Not as nice as you." He opened the passenger door for you.
"There's a restaurant just up the road. We can walk." He scoffed at his words, knowing you didn't want to get into Bucky's car, or rather, the stranger you only exchanged a few sentences with.
He glanced at you, holding the door, and seemed like he might disagree, but he steeled himself and closed it again.
"Okay." He said calmly as he approached you. "Leading, sweetheart."
You did as he said. For almost the entire ride, neither of you spoke. You just watched him from afar, his usual expression revealing nothing. You weren't sure if he was happy with the station, or if he had some plan and you'd ruined it. You shouldn't have thought about it so much, considering how familiar you were, although it is a weak word to describe your current situation.
The silence that reigned between you wasn't awkward, but it wasn't comfortable enough for you to relax either. You couldn't quite shake the awkward silence, so you managed to say the first thing that came to mind.
"What do you do for work?" he asked, trying to sound casual, glancing sideways at him.
"Business." You waited to see if he would elaborate when you reached the restaurant.
"That doesn't tell me much." You walked in and immediately felt the stink of fried meat.
"Because there's not much to say. Boring job." he said, looking around the room.
A spacious place in a warm red and brown. Not reminiscent of any of the other typical restaurants, not those modern ones that look like offices you'd rather run away from than eat dinner.
A waitress arrived, who, as soon as she laid eyes on Bucky, became much nicer than before, and she led you to the table.
"Every job is boring. Most of it, anyway." you corrected yourself. "So, don't tell me anything more?" you asked as the woman disappeared to get your drinks.
"Like I said, nothing that would interest you." He smiled at you, and as always, his gaze was focused on yours.
"Sure." You said to himself, tearing his gaze away from him for a moment, unable to bear his penetrating gaze any longer. "So…" You pondered yours next question. "How do you like this place?" You glanced around to emphasize his point.
"Nice place." He just glanced around quickly, not even paying attention, and looked back at you as if he couldn't look away. "Not like you."
You just glanced at him, accepting his words.
"Thank you."
"You don't have to." He smiled wider, causing you to return the gesture. "My pleasure."
Before he could answer, the waitress returned with drinks and menus.
She started to say something about the main courses, but you didn't pay much attention to her words, only to your menu. You didn't eat here often enough to remember every dish, but you also didn't want to order something else and not eat it. So he stuck to his gun when you gestured to the waitress, who was standing near Buacky, but he wasn't paying her any attention. He was looking at the menu and as soon as he looked up in your direction, he smiled cautiously at the waitress.
"She wants to order." He said to her.
"Oh." A red tint appeared on her cheeks, and she turned to you with an apologetic smile.
You said to her what you always order and disappeared from your line of sight.
"Do you come here often?"
You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and you chuckled under his breath.
"What?" he asked, confused by your reaction
"Nothing, just…" You realized he hadn't done it on purpose, he'd actually asked the question.
"What's the matter? Don't hide anything from me."
You looked at him, sighing, trying to contain yours amusement.
"I'm serious. It's nothing." You took a breath. "Do you like cats?" You quickly changed the subject.
"Yes." He let it go, though his gaze suggested they weren't finished yet. "I has a cat." He pulled out his phone to show you a picture of a white cat. "Her name is Alipe."
"She's adorable." You couldn't contain your excitement.
"Do you have any pets?" "He asked, praising his phone.
"No, but I'd like to," you said, a little strained. You barely had enough money to support yourself, and what's more, an animal.
"If you want, you can come see her."
You straightened up.
"I don't think so—"
"She might scratch you. She doesn't like strangers. But you'll get used to it over time, if you give her time." He interrupted you before she could finish her sentence. Again. When he wanted something he probably didn't want to hear.
"Maybe some other time." You smiled fakely.
You fell silent whenever he spoke, practically paying you compliments he pretended not to hear, even though they were expressive.
It was overwhelming when someone didn't want to hear what you had to say. You had that all the time in his job. Dealing with clients who think you don't have your own thoughts, your own feelings, and are there to agree with them. You hated it, but you had to endure it. The only good thing about it was that you were paid for it, but now. When you was here willingly, or rather, somewhat forced to be here, and treated this way. But here, you should have known you could fight for what was right, and you intended to.
"You know how I have something to say too." You started, interrupting him. "You know, I recently got out of a long relationship." You only half-lied. "I don't know if it'll work."
"You don't know until you try."
"No. I'm not interested. I'm sorry." You replied quickly, despite the fact that you shouldn't.
"Who said we have to be together? Just hang out like this. Have dinner together and that's it." He placed his hand on yours. You didn't pull it away, just stared at your hands.
"You know." You slowly pulled your hand from his, hiding it under the tablecloth. "That's nice, but really—"
"Before you say anything further, I want to say something." You pressed your lips together into a thin line. "I don't want anything from you, except company, just like you are now." He added, seeing your expression. "Nothing more. I enjoy your company."
"You know, you've been hanging out for hours, over the past… three days." You said slowly, searching for words. "And you still know nothing about me, and I about yours."
"That's why we're here, to change that, sweetheart." He said softly.
"I know, but." You looked down at your hands.
"How long were you in that relationship?" You glanced at him when he said those words, only because it was clearly a difficult question for him.
You fell silent for a moment, watching him clench his jaw, trying to hide his negative feelings behind a smile. You should be the one feeling this way, not him. You answered him anyway.
"Ten years." You looked away. You didn't want to talk about it himself. It was a long ten years of your life, which you tried to forget, even though you should have accepted it and moved on, but it was too much.
"A long time." He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. "How long ago did it end?"
You looked at him uncertainly, yours hand clenching.
"Two years ago…" You muttered.
"I know I shouldn't say this, but this relationship ended two years ago. And understandably, ten years is a long time." He seemed to be struggling to find the right words so as not to offend or hurt you. At least, that's how you interpreted his expression, which was serious at the moment. "But sometimes you can meet someone new."
"Like you?" You rolled your eyes, so you knew exactly what he was offering.
"Maybe."
Before you could continue your conversation, the waitress arrived with your orders, placing them in front of you and marking them at the speed of light. She seemed to understand the hint.
"Do you blame me? You're beautiful, and I want to know you."
You rolled your eyes again, sighing as you began to eat.
"Many people are beautiful."
"Not true."
"True."
"Who?"
"That waitress, for example." You gestured with his fork toward the kitchen.
"She doesn't matter," he assured you, looking you straight in the eye.
You looked at him, surprised by the sudden reaction.
"Okay." you said slowly, watching him as he relaxed at your words.
"I don't even know your name." Amusement crept into his words. "And I still want to get to know you."
You stopped your fork mid-way when he said those words and realized he was right. You weren't sure if you were angry at yourself for letting someone ask you out without even asking your name, or at him. You didn't even know where you'd missed it. Something so simple.
You set your fork down on your plate, but you didn't put it down and introduced yourself. He said your name, wondering, examining the sound. They were searching for something. You couldn't wipe the smile off yours face when you heard him say those words, so you bit her lip.
"It suits you. As beautiful as you are." He smiled, and you looked away from him, embarrassed, even if it was just a name.
The rest of the evening was quiet with casual questions between the two of us. It wasn't strange to want to meet someone, but it was strange that it didn't bother you as much as it had at first. You knew he wasn't just some man who'd just invited you to dinner, but someone who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to show it. It was, is, overwhelming, with each subsequent word, you didn't feel as crushed as you had at first. You also knew you could spend your time with someone else rather than alone in an empty apart,emt, scrolling through your phone. You didn't feel that strange loneliness you sometimes felt, even when you were in the company of others, but now it was different. And you didn't want to admit it to yourself, lest it change.
Still, you felt a little disappointed when he didn't answer some of your questions directly. You managed to ignore it, knowing he'd been avoiding answers himself, and opening up to new people could be a pleasant experience.
"You know, maybe…" You said uncertainly, though you shouldn't have. "Sometimes you interrupt me when I'm saying something." You glanced at him over your plate, watching his reaction. "Especially when you don't want to hear something."
He stared at you with an unreadable expression, and the only thing you could deduce was that he was wondering when you saw the frown on his forehead.
"I'm sorry." For the first time, he looked away from you, unable to hold your gaze, even though there was nothing unpleasant behind it. It was a new, strange, pleasant feeling that you quickly buried. You didn't understand yourself.
"It's fine." You said automatically. "Just don't do it, okay?"
"Okay?"
"But you know…" You rolled his eyes. "Okay."
You said without knowing what you wanted to say, seeing the pleasantly surprised expression on his face that unnerved you, and went back to your plate. Seeing yours reaction, he smiled smugly, but said nothing, just watched you.
Before you started arguing with him about splitting the bill, he'd already paid for everything, which shocked you, because you didn't even know when he'd done it. So, you just said you'd pay your half for dinner late, he ignored you completely. You didn't have the energy to argue with him, it was late and you had to get up for work tomorrow, so you left the topic for tomorrow.
You was surprised at how quickly you accepted that you'd see him at the same time tomorrow. It was quick. Too quick, but seeing a familiar face, not counting people you work with, first thing in the morning, and someone you liked, was nice.
"I'll walk you home." He offered himself. "It's late and you shouldn't be driving alone."
He started to explain before you could say anything, wanting to drive you, but you refused because you didn't live far. Maybe you shouldn't have said that, but it was too late to bite your tongue.
As you gays walked toward your apartment, you tried to hide your yawn, you knew it was already your bedtime.
"We should drive." He didn't hide it well enough.
"Um… Just a little bit more." you said, embarrassed.
When you got there, you stopped in front of your building.
"It's here." You said carefully. "Thanks for dinner."
"My pleasure." You returned his smile tiredly, but he didn't move.
"So… see you tomorrow?" You asked uncertainly, and you didn't move yourself.
"As always." He stood there, staring at you with his dangerous blue eyes. "Can I hug you?"
That threw you off balance and you looked at him with wide eyes. It was a direct question, to something so simple and complicated at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. You felt your body begin to warm, your heart begin to race, and your stomach lurch. It wasn't a new feeling, yet you felt as if it were.
You nodded confidently, not trusting your voice, watching as his hopeful eyes turned to pure joy, and before you knew it, he had you in his arms. You gasped in surprise when he did so, and instinctively tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you, tightening his grip even more. Not enough to stop you from breathing, but enough to keep you from moving. He rested his cheeks against your head and inhaled deeply.
"You smell so nice."
You freeze when he said those words.
It should have creepy you up, but it didn't. But at the same time, you wanted to, and didn't want to, tell him that you probably smell bad after work. Although you stood there motionless, waiting for something, the longer you stood there, the more he began to brighten up in spite of himself. You didn't want to admit to yourself how nice it felt to have someone hug you. And you weren't sure if he even wanted to let you go.
The warmth of his body warmed you, in a pleasant way you weren't sure how to describe, or rather, you didn't want to. Maybe you wanted to stand there in the middle of the sidewalk, only knowing you were increasingly reluctant to move.
His hand moved, and he began to slowly stroke your back. Slowly. He gently explored your space. You stilled for a moment when he started, but after a few more strokes, you relaxed again, and seeing your reaction, he didn't stop. You felt him smile against your skin, seeing the effect his actions had on you. He didn't seem to want to stop. You didn't want him to stop.
You slowly move your hands hesitantly, stopping before returning the hug, burying your face in his neck, trying to ignore the scent of his perfume.
You only told yourself it was premature, for such an intimate display of honor, simply because you'd only known each other for a few hours, but the way he affected you now was incredible. Terrifying. Because now you felt as if he had power over you and yet didn't, as if you were the most fragile being in existence, someone he should have protected and wanted to protect. You didn't know how it was that you could show someone your feelings in such a simple way. Like now, his body holding you with both gentleness and strength, overwhelming you. You wanted to run away, but you also wanted to stay. But you only tightened your grip to ground yourself, trying to control your own emotions, which were racing in different directions. Screaming for you to do something, but you just stood there, allowing a virtual stranger to hold you securely in his arms and stroke your back.
"I’ve got you..."
He whispered in your ear, keeping his voice low with a softness that gripped your heart.
These words shouldn't have had such an impact on you, but they did.
Pressing yourself into his body even further if that were possible and holding onto him as you tried to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes. You shouldn't feel this way. Not with someone you don't know at all.
You didn't consider herself the type to show physical affection. Appreciate the soft touch of another person.
You heard knocking at the door, and for a moment, you didn't know how you found yourself in bed, in your apartment, but then the events of last night hit you.
You were on a date. We chatted, ate dinner, he walked you home, and…
You felt a pang of shame wash over you, but it didn't last long, you heard the bell ring again.
You quickly grabbed your phone to see what time it was. You sighed in relief when you saw it wasn't even seven.
You sighed in frustration, rubbed your face with your hand, and dragged yourself out of bed. A shiver ran down your spine as you left your haven and threw on your sweatshirt.
As you approached the door, the only person you could think of who might come to you so early was your neighbor. She always came to you to help with something, and every time you couldn't refuse her because she was a terrible person, and even if you tried to find an excuse, she still found a way to help her, because who would help an old lady?
You were even warned by other neighbors not to help her because you couldn't escape from her. You helped her once, and two years later, you're still doing it. Without thinking much, without wondering how you looked, she opened the door, and your eyes met Bucky's.
"Hi, I brought you breakfast."
He raised his hands in confirmation, one a paper bag, the other a paper cup.
You stared at him with your eyes open.
You blinked. Once. Second time. But it wasn't a dream. He stood before you with his usual expression, and you'd only just gotten out of bed. You were very conscious of how you looked now.
"Can I come in?" he asked before you closed the door in his face.
"Uh… yeah…"
You said before biting your tongue. Why won't your mouth obey your reasonWhy your mouth won't listen to your mind?
You nodded off so he could come into your apartment.
"Take your shoes off," you said, before he delved deeper into your small commotion and only watched you for a few seconds, long enough for you to wonder what he meant, but he did as you asked.
He didn't hide the fact that he was looking at your space. You felt a little overwhelmed. Not only because of his appearance, but also because of how easily he made himself at home.
It wasn't a huge apartment, but it was enough for you. It had a combined kitchen and living room,one bedroom, and a bathroom next to it. There wasn't much in the room, except for a table, chairs, and a sofa that had already been there when you moved in. Beyond that, there was a bookshelf with books and other decorations you collected over the years, the pillows adorning your sofa, a coffee table with a flower he given you, which was also on the table. A small rug underneath. There were no paintings or photos on the walls. You rented the place, but even then, you didn't have anything to hang. It wasn't much, but at least it was yours.
You tried to discreetly fix your hair as he stood with his back to you, setting things down on the table.
"Nice place," he said as he turned his eyes in your direction, noticing your hand movement and laughing, knowing what you were doing.
You felt warmth surround your face.
"You know, maybe next time you doesn't come at this hour." you tried to sound irritated, but it didn't come off.
"Maybe."
You've just realized one thing.
"How did it know which one of my apartments it was?" You asked with a detached tone, unsure of the answer.
"It knocked on every door and asked about you."He seemed proud of it.
You sucked in a breath, not believing his words.
"At this hour? Bucky," you groaned in frustration.
"I have to know where you live." You looked at him with pity.
"It can wait until I get to work."
"No, it can't wait to see you, doll."
"It's new." You said your thoughts aloud.
"Don't you like it?"
"I said new, not that I don't like it." You couldn't believe waht you were saying.
"That good." He smiled at you. "You should eat something." He nodded towards the tables. "I brought you what you like."
Most of breakfast was silent, but not the kind that made you wonder what was happening, or rather, how much more comfortable it was than it should have been. He watched you the entire time, not seeming to notice anything else, and maybe you'd gotten used to it, because you didn't feel that strange fear in your body.
When you finished, he slowly got ready to leave your apartment and turned to face you.
"I wanted to drvingt you to work, but I can't." He didn't hide the disappointment you could hear as he sighed, his face reminding you of the sad puppy. You almost wanted to move away, tell him he that was fine and he would do it next time. You froze at yours own thoughts. "It was really nice to spend that time with you." The sadness was still there, but before you could do anything, he took a step towards you, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, though he didn't touch you. Even though he kept eye contact with you all the time, this time you felt like him looking directly at your soul. "You're looking so beautiful. I want to look at you every day like that."
You literally felt your face burning, and all you could do was stare at him, who was so pleased with your reaction. It seemed he wanted to do something, touch you, hug you, even kiss you, but you didn't know it when he quickly said goodbye, leaving you there.
You were hoping for a quiet day with no problems, but you were.
At first, you thought that once you pointed out the arguing, they might calm down, and they did for a moment. You heard the voices rise again at the other table. You couldn't quite make out their conversation, which was mostly in Russian.
However, you had to silence them again, because Kate didn't want to interfere, but you didn't blame her either. The older man's appearance didn't encourage conversation, and you couldn't admit to yourself that you didn't want to approach.
You had to, though, because no one else was there.
So you approached again, this time to get them out, because it was taking too long. You didn't want to call the police, who wouldn't do anything about it anyway, and there was nothing more you could do.
The man became more physically aggressive towards the girl, standing up without blinking and angrily grabbing her arm, trying to pull her up. You were between them and were pushed back by the man with the chin. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but you staggered. Instead of falling, you felt hands catching your shoulders, which helped you balance.
Surprised, you glanced back and saw his blue eyes staring at you with a strange, worried expression, though the rest of his face showed no other emotion. It sent a strange pang through your heart.
Before you could do anything, say anything, he moved and grabbed the man in front of you by the arm, hiding you behind his back.
The man glanced at Bucky, dissatisfied, and you saw something else. But it was only a second; you couldn't see much behind him.
"That Lady almost fell because of you." His voice held an unpleasant edge, even if he kept his voice low. "Leave that Lady alone," he said warningly, grabbing the man's forearm, before he grabbed the woman's arm again. "Just leave." He said it in a way that made you want to back away.
He left the café without a word, but before he stepped outside, he glanced over his shoulder and you swear he smiled to himself.
"Thank you and I'm sorry," the woman said, trying to maintain her composure, even though it was clear something was wrong.
"Is fine," you said, trying to get past Bucky, who only gently grabbed your forearm, as if the threat hadn't passed.
You glanced at him and saw the sharpness in his expression, but before you could ask what was going on, the short, blond woman stood up. Without saying anything else, she walked past you.
The woman disappeared behind him before you even said anything to her, she wasn't even paying the bill.
"Wait. You have to pay—"
"I'll pay, doll." Bucky interrupted, still holding your arm.
"No. She—"
"I'll pay." He insisted, and you felt his hands tighten around you.
"But—"
"I'll pay. And that's it." He didn't raise his voice, but you could see he was upset about what he'd done. "Okay?" This time it sounded soft, even guilty.
You were silent for a moment, watching his face. You wanted to ask what was going on, but you held back. You didn't feel you were close enough to him to ask about anything like that, though it was an excuse, because you didn't have the courage to do so.
"Okay," you said coherently.
"Here, this is for you."
You shouldn't be surprised anymore, and you still weren't when he handed you a black box the size of a glass, tied with a red ribbon. You returned your gaze to him.
"Open it." He encouraged you, but a strange shadow crossed his face. You felt like with each meeting, you had more questions than answers. That wasn't how it was supposed to work.
You were a little grateful there wasn't a clique right now, even though you could feel Kate's eyes on your back and knew she wouldn't let you rest, because of the mysterious, handsome, elegant man giving you a gift. Trying to ignore it, and your shaking hands, which you were trying to control, you opened the box. Inside was a heart-shaped bottle marked "107" from a company you didn't recognize.
"I hope I got it."
You pulled it out of the box and sprayed it on your wrist. You were surprised when the scent was very similar to the ones you normally used. You sprayed it on him, not knowing what to say. How could a man possibly know something like that, because you hadn't said anything yourself, and he hadn't asked. Did he have a super sense of smell or something?
"I got it." It wasn't a question, but the satisfaction was written all over his face.
"They're... practically the same."
"But do you like their scent?" Even though he knew the answer to that question, he asked it anyway.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure how to interpret it. Good or bad? Should you bother or not? You shouldn't even ask about it anymore. He knew where you lived.
"They're... pretty." You said slowly. "I like them."
"Me too. They suit you." Happy was the word that could describe his facial expression. Was it even possible to be that happy? Or to be happy for someone else and not ask for anything in return?
"When did you have time for this?" you asked, taking a look on the bottle.
"I had a moment."
But you still had tons of questions.
You hadn't expected to see him today. It was evening when he'd lasted. It felt strange to see him at such an hour. Although strange wasn't the word you wanted to use, because you didn't want to admit to yourself that, in a strange way, you felt relieved when he arrived. You shouldn't feel this way, feeling strangely relieved when you didn't see him. Not even for a minute.
Although he was the one who found personas just to see you, even for a second. It was nice to see someone care about you even a little, though you knew that even a little was too kind, especially when it came to Bucky.
Although when he approached you, you saw that he didn't have the same twinkle in his eyes you always saw him with.
"Coffee here, and with one of those adorable drawings you make." Maybe if you didn't know him well enough you wouldn't have noticed how much effort was hidden behind his voice.
You didn't know what was going on in his mind at that moment, you could only tell it was a lot, because he was always focused on you, even when he didn't say anything. You didn't ask him anything. You still weren't sure how to approach him. It sounded childish, but it was hard to read him, even if he tried, in his own way, to show you how much he cared about you. You didn't quite understand, or rather, you didn't want to get carried away by your emotions and regret it later. It had happened to you too many times.
Something changed in his expression. A deepening worry deepened, a concern you had no idea about. He thanked you and took his order with him to one of the table.
It was a strange image, men wearing elegant clothes, with a cute mug with a drawing of a cat.
It was a charming sight for you, though his gaze didn't do what it always did. Him looked at you. You miss this warmth.
You hadn't seen him like this since you first met him. Or rather never. He was silent, yet his gaze spoke ludly, but not like this. And now you saw the anguish in them, even though he wasn't looking at you.
There was another table besides him, but they were busy with themselves.
You picked up the broom and slowly began sweeping, moving towards him.
You didn't know if you were doing it so the manager wouldn't see you, or because you weren't sure if Bucky wanted your company. You set the broom down in front of another table and reached for it, glancing over your shoulder.
He glanced at you, but he was more absent-minded than looking past you. You propped your chin on your hand and placed the other one flat on your back. You glanced back again. Still nothing.
You did something a little silly and embarrassing. You started to wriggle your finger at him with your free hand, playing. Like a child. You ignored the warmth starting to envelop your face.
You nudged his hand with one of yours fingers, observing his reaction.
"What's going on?" you asked softly, a little uncertain, leaning in towards him.
"Work." "He sighed, observing your hand on the table, then gently grabbed your fingertips with his.
"Don't tell me." You sighed in confirmation, thinking you knew what he meant. "But nothing interesting?"
"Everything's just not going as it should." He slowly began to run his thumb over your hand.
"Reasonably." You were watching his movements with your hand, wanting him to take off his glove so you could feel his skin against yours.
Focus.
"But it's better now." You looked up at him and saw that he'd somehow realized he was himself again.
You didn't want to admit to youself how much the little things, the words, the actions he did, were starting to affect you. You missed the way someone paid attention to you.
"I wanted to give it to you after I walked you home."
You smirked, watching him pull long, black pants from his coat.
"You doesn't have to give me something every time. Series." You didn't accept his gift when he handed it to you, but stared directly into his eyes.
"But I do. I like giving you gifts."
You took a breath, feeling his worry transfer from him to you.
"Even if I do, I feel a little bad when I receive them," you said honestly. "I didn't give you anything."
"It's enough for me that you want to spend time with me."
"Bucky—"
"I'm serious." He squeezed your hand in confirmation. "Just talk to me. You have a nice voice."
You chuckled to youself and accepted the gift hesitantly. You didn't open it, just wandered around it. He wasn't asking you for a lot, for something that somehow a lot of people want, and you tried not to think about wanting to repay him. Although you shouldn't. He did it because he wanted to, and you tried to focus on that.
You opened the box and gasped. You closed it and placed it on the table, pushing it back toward him.
"Bucky." You didn't hide his disbelief in his voice, but also you sharpness. "I can't give this away. It's…"
"A gift." He pushed it back toward you.
"No—"
"Gifts, I don't give away."
She shook her head.
"It's too expensive to carry anywhere." You was starting to panic. "I don't even know where to wear it. What if I lose it?" You started to struggle, trying to find any excuse.
"If you lose it, I'll buy you a new one." It was meant to sound joking, but you didn't get it.
"Bucky!" You cut him off.
He took the box and pulled out a silver bracelet with a diamond star. He held it out towards you, inviting you to give it to him.
You stared at him in disbelief. You gasped, and he extended his wrist toward you, a little hesitantly.
"Bucky, I'm serious, if I lose this…" He gave it to you before you could even take it. It fit perfectly against your skin. Too perfectly.
"You don't," he said to you confidently, pressing his fingers against your skin where the jewelry was. "I'm serious too."
You didn't know what to do with it, because you wanted to do something, but you didn't know what. You'll yell at him to leave you alone, even though you didn't want me to. Say someone else deserves it. Probably.
"You know…" you started to him, even though he was also talking to himself. "Gifts like that are given to wives, not people who barely know each other." You said quietly, trying to joke, avoiding yors own guilt as you watched your wrist.
"I think you give yourself to someone you care about as a gift," he said calmly, tilting his head.
"I have a question," you said uncertainly, you eyes darting to him.
"Just ask."
You sighed, for the second time in a short time.
"Are-are you trying to bribe me so I don't know…" she wondered, raising your gaze agine to him. "Spending time with me."
He glanced away, wondering, trying to hide a smile.
"Does it work?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, trying to hide his own amusement at this station.
"Oh my God. Really?"
"I'm not going to apologize for wanting to give you gifts. You deserve it."
"But—"
"I don't care how long we've known each other," he pressed you. "Let me do it."
You sighed slowly, watching him.
"Okay, but that doesn't mean I like it," she warned him.
You heard someone cough to get your attention. Immediately, when you saw it was the manager, you quickly got to yours feet, almost tripping over them. You didn't notice how much Bucky's face had a dissatisfied expression on his face, but he didn't say anything.
Of course, you got a scolding, even though there was almost no one left in the cafeteria, but you had to clean up before closing, not flirt while working. He didn't help you, you just normal employee, whom should have taken care of everything. Of course, you didn't miss the moment he noticed your new jewelry on your wrist. He also thought you wouldn't see his reaction when he turned to you, pacing to disappear behind the curtains, but you saw him roll his eyes at that. There was a hint of disbelief. Maybe jealousy. How could you get such an expensive gift, and he couldn't even have his own car, which he kept complaining about?
After closing, Bucky did as he'd said earlier, waiting to walk you home, but before you could poke around in that direction, he insisted on buying you dinner. At first, you refused; you kept doing it, but he ignored you, leading you to the restaurant. You sighed, gave in and ordered.
"Is that all?" he asked, seeing how little you'd ordered.
"Yes. Too much." You said, ignoring the worried expression on his face.
This time he sighed and ordered a few more things. You thought he'd order them for himself, but he gave you all the food when you were at your door.
"Is this some way for me to invite you in? - You laughed nervously as you opened your door.
"No," he said, not thinking twice about your question.
"I guess you're not that clueless."
"I'm not, but I'm not that kind of person either." He studied your face before asking, perhaps a little disappointed. "Do you think I'm that kind of person?"
"No!" You surprised youself with you sudden behavior. "It's just…"
"I know. It's okay," he assured you.
"Is not. I shouldn't suspect something like that." You sighed, frustrated with yourself.
He chuckled under his breath.
"Goodnight." He said your name as he got closer to your face, but still far enough away to see your entire face. You weren't sure what he would do, so you stiffened in surprise.
But he moved away and started heading towards the stairs.
You bit your lip and felt guilty, but you wasn't doing it because of that.
"Bucky." He paused before ducking around the corner and glanced in your direction. "That's a lot of food, and I don't want it to go to waste. Want to join me?"
He looked at you for a moment.
"Are you sure?" For the first time, you heard hesitation in him. Not certainty.
"Definitely." You smiled to confirm your own words.
He hesitated for a moment, and you could see it yourself as he headed your way. You entered the living room, and he followed you.
You walked to the table and set down your bag, watching him out of the corner of your eye. At first, he could see his hesitation as he walked through your apartment.
"I'm glad you didn't bring me flowers any more, otherwise we wouldn't have had a drink," you joked as you pulled it mugs.
For the first time, you were the one with more self-confident. You didn't know how to intervene, his reserve. Did he not trust himself? Should you be worried? Or maybe he wasn't sure about the space in your apartment, but when he last came over, he acted differently, just like usual. Now he was quieter, less penetrating, nervous. You weren't sure if that was the reason, but you didn't want to ask either. Although you didn't want to find out what the reason was. So practically throughout the entire meal, there was silence, knowing you, and this time, you were the one watching him the entire time.
He seemed to appreciate the lack of conversation more in moments like these. Was he more relaxed now? Was that his true self? Not the one who constantly surprised you, make you blush, and told you everything he was thinking?
"When we were interrupted." It started slowly, looking at you with their eyes. "I said I was giving you a gift because I wanted to, and it's true. But also…" You waited steadily, until he found the strength or the words he was searching for to convey his thoughts. "Get your attention… Show me that I care. I know how it looks, but it's been a while since I've had anyone I cared about so much." He paused for a moment, trying to find another words before starting again. "And yes, it's simple for me. I know that with time I'll be able to show it differently. I just don't trust myself with my emotions."
"Bucky… I understand what you mean." You smiled at him. "Really. But aren't you afraid I'm here for your money?" You finally gathered the courage to ask one of the many questions you had for him.
"No, do you know why?" Bucky, who was still down to earth, spoke again, but you also see the real him, who was no longer hiding behind his strange mask of certainty. "Because I know that if you were, you wouldn't feel guilty about this, but you do, and I can see it. And I also know you want to reciprocate, but you shouldn't. Just being here, or rather, letting me be here, is enough for me."
You tried to hold back the tears that were pricking your eyes, trying to breathe deeply. You avoided his gaze, though there was no way he hadn't noticed. How he knows what to say to make you feel worthy?
"Can I hug you?" You heard, and your right away you nodded your head in confirmation.
You only heard the chair being pushed back and his footsteps approaching you. He gently lifted you into his embrace. You immediately buried your head in his shoulder as he led you to the sofa. He sat down and placed you on his lap. You melted into him completely, absorbing his warmth and scent.
You cried, but it was a silent palace that grew fainter with each passing minute. You focused more on the way his hand moved soothingly over your shoulder, his head resting on the top of yours. His breathing was calm, even though his heart was beating rapidly.
You took his other hand in yours and he froze for a moment, begging to return to what he was doing, but more carefully.
"I'm sorry." Your weak voice could be heard like an echo moving through the quiet apartment.
"You shouldn't." He hugged you tight.
"I know, but…"
"It's fine. Really. Just breathe in." He guided you when he noticed you couldn't breathe agian. "And breathe out."
Repeat this action a few more times until your breathing calmed down.
"Buck?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me."
You pulled away to glare at him. You knew you looked awful and tried to compose youself, wiping your tear with your sleeve.
"I don't have to, but I want to." You might not have sounded the most confident, your voice strained from crying, but you didn't care. "It means a lot to me." You gestured between you. "More people would ask me what's going on, but you don't. So thank you."
He stared at you, then wiped the lone tear from your cheek with his hand and settled himself so that all his eyes were level.
"You're welcome." He smiled, now holding your face in both hands to make sure you were absorbed in his blue eyes, which you could easily get lost in. "I'll always be here for you. Okay?" He rested your eyes against his.
You felt your heart skip a beat and wanted to thank him again, but you held it back.
"Okay."
You snuggled into him again, not wanting to let him go.
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DIVIDERS by @angeliicide
Secret?
bucky x reader Word Count: 741 Warnings: AU Thunderbolts, f!reader, congressman!bucky; assistant!reader; sweetheart!reader, fluff Summary: Sam met Bucky assistant. Charlie Puth - Light Switch
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Bucky hadn't expected to see Sam so early, knowing how busy he was as Captain America and fighting evil. However, one day he came to his office, trying to hide behind his masks and hats. A wise idea, and of course, it was impossible. Word spread quickly, and everyone in the building knew before lunch what the consequences would be, and not just within the building itself. Security had already reported to Bucky that several reports had been intercepted when he sneaked into the building.
"What are they going to do?" Sam laughed as soon as he heard the news.
However, Sam didn't pay much attention when he saw Bucky's posture change, but something flashed across his face. Experiencing this in person was different than hearing it, and Sam had been silently observing everything.
As soon as she approached their table, his shoulders stiffened, even though his back was to her. But he knew it was her. Not only from the sound of her shoes, which he gently tapped against the floor, even though he didn't wear heels like the other women in the building, but also from her scent, something Bucky would never admit aloud. That he was thinking about it was inappropriate and strange. From the moment he noticed her vanilla perfume, he couldn't stop thinking about it.
He didn't hesitate to shake her hand when he was right next to her. And she'd been working here for two months. Two. In that short time, a person shouldn't have such influence over someone.
He knew she'd be standing before them in her black jumpsuit any minute now, but even so, every time he saw her, he felt his heart skip a beat.
At first, at the beginning he didn't pay attention to her, she was just an assistant hired to help him and do a good job. With each passing day, as she learned his behavior and how best they could adapt it to make him look good in the media spotlight. He knew her plan was good, and he tried to implement it, but he wasn't good at speeches, even though she was the one who wrote them for him. Not to mention the comments he shouldn't have said. Even if he didn't do exactly what he'd planned, she wasn't bad. She just kept doing her job, still smiling, though he could see the tiredness behind her mask.
Once she even laughed at his words, though he was sure he hadn't said anything funny, but it was still worth it. And he wanted to hear her laugh again, so he searched for jokes online. He didn't quite understand the humor of this age, but it worked, though he wasn't sure if he was laughing at his words, at the fact that he knew he was looking for something other than his, or at his lack of a collection of jokes.
Now she stood in front of their table, with that friendly smile as always, holding two cups of coffee.
"This is for you." He placed the items in front of them. "Strong black and coffee with milk and a teaspoon of sugar."
Sam just raised his eyebrows at her.
"And who are you and how do you know?" They smiled, sarcastic, almost flirtatious, at her. Bucky almost said something, but only clasped his hand under the table, trying to ignore something he had no right to.
"The media is talking." She laughed, rolled her eyes, and introduced himself. "Congressman Barns assistant."
"Assistant?" He glanced at his friend, a question etched on his face. "Bucky never mentioned you." He looked back at her.
"No?" Disappointment flashed in her eyes for only a moment, but Bucky narrowed it immediately.
"The last time I spoke to him was before I hired you, sweetheart." He began to explain hastily, perhaps too desperately, as the nickname slipped from his lips, something he had no control over. Sam's eyes narrowed.
"Oh?" He wasn't sure what her that sound meant. "I've been here for a short time." She glanced quickly at Bucky, then quickly back at the other man. "I'll go, since you haven't talked for a long time.." She slowly started walking away. "It was nice to meet you." She waves at them before they say anything.
"So…" Sam began. "When was he going to tell me you had a crash on your lovely assistant?"
Bucky choked on the coffee he had just received.
DIVIDERS by @angeliicide and @/saradika-graphics
a small gift
bucky x reader Word Count: 11.1k Warnings:: au mafia; fluf; angst; mafia!bucky; little a bit stalker!bucky; barista!reader; soft!bucky; f!reader; brif mens of clouse; shy!reader; use of nickname: sweetheart, doll; Summary: One day you received a gift from a stranger and with each passing day you received more and more gifts…
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The last thing you wanted was to search for a gift that couldn't please anyone, but you always have to find excuses to please someone at your own expense. However, you didn't want to show up empty-handed, as it bothered no one. Except perhaps yourself.
As you walked, you noticed a flower shop with flowers that looked beautiful. The colors blended beautifully, revealing nothing about the fragrance. The sweet scent delighted your nostrils as you approached. You didn't look inside, just stared. Perhaps it was a gift you could give, but you weren't sure how much it would cost. You didn't want a full bouquet, but three flowers would look sad next to each other.
You didn't touch the flower petals, you just approached them and inhaled.
Pink tulips.
You froze, realizing you couldn't buy them after seeing the price.
Luckily, you didn't see anyone nearby, and without even checking, you quickly walked away. You shouldn't have been embarrassed, but you felt it anyway. It was a silly feeling that also reminded you of how long ago you'd received the flowers.
College.
Which you didn't want to go back to. Which you hadn't even finished, let alone paid off, which you were still paying off to this day. You didn't even know why you went to college, or rather, you did. But you didn't want to think about it, not even about it.
Now you were reminded of your ex-boyfriend, whom you didn't want to think about either.
But before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, which were weighing even more heavily on your mind, someone interrupted you.
"These are for you."
You glanced at the man in front of you. Tall, very tall. You didn't want to say you'd never seen anyone that tall, and that would be a lie, because you'd probably met someone, even knew who.
Don't think about it. You repeated to youself.
Beautiful, handsome. You weren't sure how to assess this person before you. Dressed in dark colors, a little too elegantly. Too elegant. Longish brown hair, a well-trimmed beard. But his eyes. Beautiful blue eyes. Reminiscent of a calm sea. But his gaze was strange. There was something behind them. Curiosity? Softness? Or maybe danger. You weren't sure. Or maybe you didn't want to know.
Only after a moment did you realize he was holding something in his hands. You glanced at what he had in them and were surprised to see the flowers. The very ones you wanted to buy. The ones you almost touched. The ones you saw moments ago. You glanced back at the stranger and weren't entirely sure what to do, or rather, what to say.
"Thank you, but I can't accept this." You said timidly, nervously shifting the bag on your shoulder, trying to guess your own feelings.
"And I insisted." "He pushed the gift closer to you. It was almost as if they were already in your arms. "Something beautiful for a beautiful lady."
You stood there, staring at him. Pleasant shivers ran down your spine, and you smiled shyly. You looked away from his penetrating gaze. You felt warmth begin to envelop your face.
"Thank you," you said, but you didn't reach for the flowers. You wanted to reach for them, but…
You hadn't received such a compliment in a long time. Not even from a handsome man. You have fallen so low.
"Accepting them would be a thank you, sweetheart."
You looked at him, surprised when he used that word, because a stranger wouldn't say such things.
"We've known each other for five seconds." It sounded an octave higher than you intended.
"That's enough for me." His self-confident smile was starting to intimidate you with each passing second.
Now you saw that he was older than you, but not so much that it bothered you. You weren't young yourself, but you were definitely younger than him.
It would still make it seem like something was wrong with him, but you weren't sure what. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, almost too intensely, with that smile. Softly, when he looked at you with a slightly chilled expression. As if he saw something in you that you couldn't. Maybe you forgotten what it was like to have someone look at you.
Truly see you.
"These flowers suit you very well. Here." He practically shoved them into your hand, and you couldn't do anything about it.
"They're beautiful." You glanced at them as you said it.
"Just like you."
You glanced at him quickly, trying not to cringe at his words, and returned your gaze to the flowers.
You let out a fake laugh.
"You probably say that a lot." You said before biting your tongue.
"No. Only to you." You glanced at him. He smiled at you as he spoke those words.
You felt yourself melt inside. You gripped the bouquet tightly.
But he began to look, somewhere behind you.
"I have to. See you later."
Before you could do or say anything, he quickly moved away from you. You stood in the middle of the sidewalk in shock, unsure of what had just happened. Your brain needed time to process everything, where your body was, you already knew everything. What a strange, new sensation began to invade your body.
A very, very handsome older man, complimenting you. He gave you flowers. For no reason.
You felt strangely grateful, though you didn't want to accept anything about it so quickly, but the smile on your face said otherwise. You felt your stomach tighten as you glanced at the flowers, because they were the same ones you seen earlier. And as you returned home, you told yourself it was just a coincidence, and even if it wasn't, he probably saw you looking at them. Sometimes that happens, after all.
You've completely forgotten why you even went shopping.
You were just standing behind the counter and didn't expect to see him. The very next day. At your place of work, smiling at you when he saw you. Just like yesterday.
Coincidence, right?
"We meet again." He didn't even say hello.
"Yes…" You said a little late. "What can I get you?" You asked politely, trying to resist his gaze, which made you feel small.
"I'll take your word for it?" he said, leaning against the counter and tilting his head slightly in your direction.
"What do you like?" You asked, trying to sound professional.
"You decide. I think whatever you choose will be good."
You glanced at him for a moment wary. You knew what he was trying to convey with his words, but as you can see, things don't always work. Just like now. Maybe he sounded too much like a man who does too much.
"I don't think so. Not everyone likes the same things." You said it more to yourself than to him.
"Let's find out. What do you recommend?"
You sighed, a little dissatisfied, and glanced at the menu, which you were already familiar with, but you tried to buy yourself some time. Not because you couldn't hold his gaze, behind which there were too many hidden things.
"Icelate?"
"And dessert?"
"Croissant?" It was the first thing that caught your eye.
"And what do you usually get?"
You glanced at him. You were very, very sure he was flirting with you. You tried to ignore it every time. Not only because you had little experience with it, but also because it had been years since you remembered how it worked, though it should have been obvious. You weren't sure if you wanted to get involved either, even if it was nice to have someone notice you. However, you felt a certain distance within yourself. Maybe it was just nerves.
You told him, ignoring your feelings.
"Are you sure?" You asked, looking at him questioningly.
"Yes. I like trying new things." He paid, and you wanted to give him the change. "Keep the change."
"It's actually a hundred dollars." You laughed nervously.
"I know, keep it."
Your eyebrows shot up, and you wanted to give it back to him, but he interrupted you.
"A tip." He said without even looking at you, because he was staring at something behind the window, but when you looked, you couldn't see anything.
"Have you worked here long?"
Your gaze shifted from the window to him.
"Yes." You tried to fill his order as quickly as possible. "Two years." You added after a moment, for reasons unseen.
"It must be nice working in a place like this."
You glanced at him, but you couldn't read much into his expression. Was he interested in knowing more about you, or was he just trying to fill the silence between you?
"It's alright. The area is safe."
He didn't ask another question, just watched you. You tried to ignore him, but it was hard when he didn't even try to hide it. You wanted to tell him to stop, but you didn't want to deprive him of the satisfaction of it, not knowing how he would react. But you also felt ashamed, knowing how those words would sound. You were trapped.
He seemed pleased with the turn of events; perhaps he even noticed your discomfort, how you tried to hide your glances at him when he smiled at you.
"Good." He responded to your words, surprising you. He glanced around the room and then looked in your direction again. "If anyone starts causing trouble, tell me. I'll take care of them."
"What?"
You looked at him, not hiding your shock.
The words sounded like a threat, though their meaning was far more dangerous. You didn't know if it was a warning to you or for you. His relaxed expression seemed to suggest otherwise, but you didn't know how. You didn't harbor any animosity, or rather, you didn't know if you did. You could count on one hand the number of people you'd met, the ones you knew. You didn't think any customer you might have served poorly would want to do anything to you.
"Just tell me if anyone bothers you." There was no hint of hostility in his voice. As if what he was saying was a simple conversation about the weather. "And especially when you're coming home late alone." He finished, seeing your expression.
You placed his order, practically knocking everything down, and without waiting for his words, you quickly headed for the back.
"My name is Bucky."
You stopped and looked at him over your shoulder. But you didn't say anything, hiding from his gaze.
You started rearranging things, just to avoid attracting the attention of the manager, who was sitting in the next room. He could look over at any moment and see you.
You didn't want to dwell on his words and tried to ignore them, but all you could hear were his words ringing in your ears. You didn't want to admit to yourself that at first, when he said the first part, it was even charming, but the next part made your blood run cold. You don't say things like that and you'll get a normal reaction. Take care of. Which you didn't even know what it meant. Maybe if he said it differently. You would have even smiled, but he didn't have to say it that way.
You might be overthinking it. Probably. Right?
Unfortunately for you, you finished everything and had to go back to the counter. Luckily, you could breathe a sigh of relief when you saw he was gone, but there was something lying by the cash register. You knew what it was.
Pink tulips.
The same flowers he gave you yesterday, and you didn't even notice he was carrying them. You were more preoccupied with him than with the gift.
The next day, he arrived at the same time. You barely set foot behind the counter when he was already there, waiting.
As always, dressed in more than averagely elegant attire, you didn't want to dwell on his job for too long. Not realizing that it was also noon, but not lunchtime. You didn't expect him to be an average businessman who came to an average looking cafe.
You felt like the only reason he been here twice more than he should have was because of you. But only twice.
This time, you noticed the flowers. The same ones as yesterday and when you first met.
When his eyes saw you, his face lit up with joy, like a puppy. Which, of course, affected you more than it should have. His eyes warmed and softened. You felt a warm sensation spread through your body.
His words yesterday seemed more distant than you wanted them to be.
"Hi." He said first, leaning closer to you with his whole body so you could see his handsome face. "These are for you." He placed the flower in front of you. "I didn't give them to you straight away yesterday, but you ran away quickly." You felt warmth spread across your face despite yourself, and you weren't sure what you could read in his voice. Regret. Sadness. Just directed at you, to blame you, or at himself? You weren't sure. "And please, the same as yesterday." He didn't wait for you to say anything.
"You shouldn't give me flowers every time." You shoved the bill in your hand, trying to ignore his gaze, which was watching you with far too much intensity. "And you shouldn't say things like that." It shouldn't have sounded quiet, but you weren't controlling your voice at that moment.
Maybe a little scared.
You tried to ignore your own fear, which was creeping up on you despite yourself, but who could blame you, considering how his words sounded yesterday?
He's been looking at you for a moment.
"I know, but I'd rather you know I'm here if you need help." He spoke these words thoughtfully, to reassure you of his intentions. Don't apologize, and he didn't even look like one. "I don't want anything to happen to you."
You glanced at him from the counter, observing him carefully and pondering his words, which didn't exactly bring you much relief.
"You shouldn't say things like that."
"What do you mean? Because I'm not sure what you're getting at." He added the last sentence, seeing your questioning look.
You didn't want to say anything, knowing how it might sound, and somehow you didn't want to upset him, even if he didn't do anything. You just worded your words unconventionally.
You looked away before you could say anything. You didn't want to see his reaction when you whispered.
"As if someone were going to do something to me…" The uncertainty was evident in your voice, as was the nervousness.
"Nobody's going to hurt you." He said abruptly before you could finish a words, glancing at him sideways. His serious voice only confirmed his expression. "I won't allow it." He stood there, only to further confirm his words, and you felt small inside you. His seriousness shouldn't have surprised you, considering his appearance and the way he dressed, but his soft demeanor contrasted somewhat with his current demeanor.
You weren't sure how to interpret this.
Your expression was unconvinced. At least, that's what you thought. Maybe you had a slightly frightened look on your face as well, as his expression softened and relaxed.
"I'm serious." They leaned toward you again as you handed him what he ordered, pushing the flowers toward you. You wanted to give him the change you'd forgotten about for a moment. You should get a grip. "Keep it." He said, taking his order in his hand.
But he didn't start to leave, just looked at you again.
"You have good taste." He gestured towards what he held in his hands. "I think I'll be coming here every day, and not just for the food, but for you too, sweetheart." It was a promise.
Seeing your reaction, how your face began to heat up without your consent, he moved to leave, not even waiting for what you had to say.
You sighed, irritated at yourself, at him, and at the entire station.
At yourself for how you couldn't control yourself and how his words affected you. At him for never letting you get a word in edgewise. At how he always kept you in a corner and wouldn't let you escape. At stations where he had little influence on how things turned out.
There should have been a two-way conversation, but everything was coming from him, and you weren't sure you wanted to hear your opinion on anything. You wondered if he was the only one who found your looks attractive. Was that all he saw in you? Pretty face. It was still nice when someone appreciated your looks, but did that mean your personality meant nothing? Did he have your mind set on what kind of person you were, so he wouldn't let you get a word in?
Maybe it was an accident. Maybe you think too much. Too many of those things, maybe.
You felt a knot in your stomach, though you shouldn't. You had to remember that he was a man first, and like every man, he preferred to focus on himself and what he wanted, not on you.
You wasn't surprised when he showed up again the next day. Again with the same flowers. You felt like your apartment was turning into a flower shop. So you had to do somehow to convince him not to give you any more.
"You know, you don't have to give them to me every time." You said, taking care of his order.
"I want. They suit you. They're just as beautiful as you."
You bit your lip to hold back the smile that was starting to appear despite yourself. You took a breath, trying to control yourself, and focused your gaze on something else. This time, there was no one in the cafee. The middle of the week.
"I'm talking series. I have no room for them." You sighed, ignoring his words and saying what you honestly meant.
"Okay." he said, and this time you didn't see the smile, but before you could thank him, he forced it on you. "So what do you like? Jewelry? Gold? Silver? A bracelet? A necklace? Makeup? Or maybe some clothes?"
You glanced at him quickly, your mouth hanging open. You were speechless.
"Wait. What?"
"No. Maybe shoes—"
"No. Slow down." You gestured for him to stop. "Do you want to give me another gift?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I just want to give it to you."
"That's not an answer."
"It is. I just want to give it to you, so you'll remember me."
"Uh… I don't think it works that way."
"What didn't work that way?"
"Giving gifts. You're supposed to give someone something to remind them of you. Something meaningful, and not the first thing you see. Not to mention that we don't really know each other." You wanted to add that you wasn't sure if you wanted to, but you held back.
He studied your facial expression with his eyes for far too long, because his order was waiting on the counter. He didn't move, just watched you. He didn't say anything. There were no customers, so you couldn't tell him he hold the line.
"Would you like to go on a date with me?" He said as he leaned against the counter with his sly smile.
"That was nice, but I don't have time for that kind of thing." You tried to sound as polite as possible. You hid behind a smile, hoping he get the hint.
"You said i didn't know anything about you." He began slowly. "So you can find out."
"I know, but—"
"Please." He looked at you with his puppy eyes. "Or I could bring you a nice bracelet."
"Are you trying to bribe me?" You gave him a pointed look.
"Maybe?" He was amused by this station, and even by you. "Which one do you prefer?"
"I really don't have a choice?" You asked, even knowing how he would answer, though his eyes spoke louder than words. "Okay." You sighed. "A date. But I don't have time until next week."
"Maybe after work today?"
"No—"
"You doesn't have to change. You look good. We'll just have a nice time."
"Don't you have a job?" You gave him a suspicious look.
"I work for myself. I can take time off whenever I want."
"Okey, but I'm finishing late."
"What time?"
You didn't want to say anything. And just stare at each other.
You knew you should look away, because you felt your heart begin to beat faster with each passing second. You felt yourself beginning to drown in the depths of his blue eyes. You didn't want to, because you felt seen in a way you'd never been seen before. He didn't look away, just stared at yours, contentedly, from the turn of the station.
But you knew that the longer you looked at him, a strange smile began to bloom on your face. You knew you lost.
"At eight." You said, averting his gaze.
"I'll be here at eight." There was no judgment in his voice, or any other unpleasant feeling. Only a sense of freedom.
You ignored the fact that you weren't entirely convinced to go to dinner with him. Remembering how he wouldn't let you get a word in edgewise, you felt your hands freeze.
He didn't care.
He still wanted to get to know you. Maybe you were an idiot.
You didn't know if he noticed the change in your demeanor, and even if he did, he didn't comment.
"See you later, sweetheart." He said, smiling softly at you before turning to leave.
When you finished your shift, you went outside, and you knew he was waiting for you, leaning against a car you didn't know the brand of. However, you were absolutely certain it was one of the more expensive ones. Not the sporty ones that rich people drive just to show off, but one of those very elegant ones.
You knew he had money, but you still felt an uncontrollable urge to retreat into yourself. You felt dirty. Very conscious of your appearance. You weren't sweating, but you were tired, after standing on your feet all day and dealing with unfortunate clients. You were an ordinary person with a quiet, humble life. You shouldn't feel that way, but you did. Not to mention the fact that you'd never done what you wanted. You didn't work where you wanted. You're stuck in a job you wanted to quit, but you didn't have the courage, let alone what you wanted to do next.
"Nice car." You said, trying to ignore the overwhelming emotions that were starting to occupy your mind.
"Not as nice as you." He opened the passenger door for you.
"There's a restaurant just up the road. We can walk." He scoffed at his words, knowing you didn't want to get into Bucky's car, or rather, the stranger you only exchanged a few sentences with.
He glanced at you, holding the door, and seemed like he might disagree, but he steeled himself and closed it again.
"Okay." He said calmly as he approached you. "Leading, sweetheart."
You did as he said. For almost the entire ride, neither of you spoke. You just watched him from afar, his usual expression revealing nothing. You weren't sure if he was happy with the station, or if he had some plan and you'd ruined it. You shouldn't have thought about it so much, considering how familiar you were, although it is a weak word to describe your current situation.
The silence that reigned between you wasn't awkward, but it wasn't comfortable enough for you to relax either. You couldn't quite shake the awkward silence, so you managed to say the first thing that came to mind.
"What do you do for work?" he asked, trying to sound casual, glancing sideways at him.
"Business." You waited to see if he would elaborate when you reached the restaurant.
"That doesn't tell me much." You walked in and immediately felt the stink of fried meat.
"Because there's not much to say. Boring job." he said, looking around the room.
A spacious place in a warm red and brown. Not reminiscent of any of the other typical restaurants, not those modern ones that look like offices you'd rather run away from than eat dinner.
A waitress arrived, who, as soon as she laid eyes on Bucky, became much nicer than before, and she led you to the table.
"Every job is boring. Most of it, anyway." you corrected yourself. "So, don't tell me anything more?" you asked as the woman disappeared to get your drinks.
"Like I said, nothing that would interest you." He smiled at you, and as always, his gaze was focused on yours.
"Sure." You said to himself, tearing his gaze away from him for a moment, unable to bear his penetrating gaze any longer. "So…" You pondered yours next question. "How do you like this place?" You glanced around to emphasize his point.
"Nice place." He just glanced around quickly, not even paying attention, and looked back at you as if he couldn't look away. "Not like you."
You just glanced at him, accepting his words.
"Thank you."
"You don't have to." He smiled wider, causing you to return the gesture. "My pleasure."
Before he could answer, the waitress returned with drinks and menus.
She started to say something about the main courses, but you didn't pay much attention to her words, only to your menu. You didn't eat here often enough to remember every dish, but you also didn't want to order something else and not eat it. So he stuck to his gun when you gestured to the waitress, who was standing near Buacky, but he wasn't paying her any attention. He was looking at the menu and as soon as he looked up in your direction, he smiled cautiously at the waitress.
"She wants to order." He said to her.
"Oh." A red tint appeared on her cheeks, and she turned to you with an apologetic smile.
You said to her what you always order and disappeared from your line of sight.
"Do you come here often?"
You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and you chuckled under his breath.
"What?" he asked, confused by your reaction
"Nothing, just…" You realized he hadn't done it on purpose, he'd actually asked the question.
"What's the matter? Don't hide anything from me."
You looked at him, sighing, trying to contain yours amusement.
"I'm serious. It's nothing." You took a breath. "Do you like cats?" You quickly changed the subject.
"Yes." He let it go, though his gaze suggested they weren't finished yet. "I has a cat." He pulled out his phone to show you a picture of a white cat. "Her name is Alipe."
"She's adorable." You couldn't contain your excitement.
"Do you have any pets?" "He asked, praising his phone.
"No, but I'd like to," you said, a little strained. You barely had enough money to support yourself, and what's more, an animal.
"If you want, you can come see her."
You straightened up.
"I don't think so—"
"She might scratch you. She doesn't like strangers. But you'll get used to it over time, if you give her time." He interrupted you before she could finish her sentence. Again. When he wanted something he probably didn't want to hear.
"Maybe some other time." You smiled fakely.
You fell silent whenever he spoke, practically paying you compliments he pretended not to hear, even though they were expressive.
It was overwhelming when someone didn't want to hear what you had to say. You had that all the time in his job. Dealing with clients who think you don't have your own thoughts, your own feelings, and are there to agree with them. You hated it, but you had to endure it. The only good thing about it was that you were paid for it, but now. When you was here willingly, or rather, somewhat forced to be here, and treated this way. But here, you should have known you could fight for what was right, and you intended to.
"You know how I have something to say too." You started, interrupting him. "You know, I recently got out of a long relationship." You only half-lied. "I don't know if it'll work."
"You don't know until you try."
"No. I'm not interested. I'm sorry." You replied quickly, despite the fact that you shouldn't.
"Who said we have to be together? Just hang out like this. Have dinner together and that's it." He placed his hand on yours. You didn't pull it away, just stared at your hands.
"You know." You slowly pulled your hand from his, hiding it under the tablecloth. "That's nice, but really—"
"Before you say anything further, I want to say something." You pressed your lips together into a thin line. "I don't want anything from you, except company, just like you are now." He added, seeing your expression. "Nothing more. I enjoy your company."
"You know, you've been hanging out for hours, over the past… three days." You said slowly, searching for words. "And you still know nothing about me, and I about yours."
"That's why we're here, to change that, sweetheart." He said softly.
"I know, but." You looked down at your hands.
"How long were you in that relationship?" You glanced at him when he said those words, only because it was clearly a difficult question for him.
You fell silent for a moment, watching him clench his jaw, trying to hide his negative feelings behind a smile. You should be the one feeling this way, not him. You answered him anyway.
"Ten years." You looked away. You didn't want to talk about it himself. It was a long ten years of your life, which you tried to forget, even though you should have accepted it and moved on, but it was too much.
"A long time." He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. "How long ago did it end?"
You looked at him uncertainly, yours hand clenching.
"Two years ago…" You muttered.
"I know I shouldn't say this, but this relationship ended two years ago. And understandably, ten years is a long time." He seemed to be struggling to find the right words so as not to offend or hurt you. At least, that's how you interpreted his expression, which was serious at the moment. "But sometimes you can meet someone new."
"Like you?" You rolled your eyes, so you knew exactly what he was offering.
"Maybe."
Before you could continue your conversation, the waitress arrived with your orders, placing them in front of you and marking them at the speed of light. She seemed to understand the hint.
"Do you blame me? You're beautiful, and I want to know you."
You rolled your eyes again, sighing as you began to eat.
"Many people are beautiful."
"Not true."
"True."
"Who?"
"That waitress, for example." You gestured with his fork toward the kitchen.
"She doesn't matter," he assured you, looking you straight in the eye.
You looked at him, surprised by the sudden reaction.
"Okay." you said slowly, watching him as he relaxed at your words.
"I don't even know your name." Amusement crept into his words. "And I still want to get to know you."
You stopped your fork mid-way when he said those words and realized he was right. You weren't sure if you were angry at yourself for letting someone ask you out without even asking your name, or at him. You didn't even know where you'd missed it. Something so simple.
You set your fork down on your plate, but you didn't put it down and introduced yourself. He said your name, wondering, examining the sound. They were searching for something. You couldn't wipe the smile off yours face when you heard him say those words, so you bit her lip.
"It suits you. As beautiful as you are." He smiled, and you looked away from him, embarrassed, even if it was just a name.
The rest of the evening was quiet with casual questions between the two of us. It wasn't strange to want to meet someone, but it was strange that it didn't bother you as much as it had at first. You knew he wasn't just some man who'd just invited you to dinner, but someone who knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to show it. It was, is, overwhelming, with each subsequent word, you didn't feel as crushed as you had at first. You also knew you could spend your time with someone else rather than alone in an empty apart,emt, scrolling through your phone. You didn't feel that strange loneliness you sometimes felt, even when you were in the company of others, but now it was different. And you didn't want to admit it to yourself, lest it change.
Still, you felt a little disappointed when he didn't answer some of your questions directly. You managed to ignore it, knowing he'd been avoiding answers himself, and opening up to new people could be a pleasant experience.
"You know, maybe…" You said uncertainly, though you shouldn't have. "Sometimes you interrupt me when I'm saying something." You glanced at him over your plate, watching his reaction. "Especially when you don't want to hear something."
He stared at you with an unreadable expression, and the only thing you could deduce was that he was wondering when you saw the frown on his forehead.
"I'm sorry." For the first time, he looked away from you, unable to hold your gaze, even though there was nothing unpleasant behind it. It was a new, strange, pleasant feeling that you quickly buried. You didn't understand yourself.
"It's fine." You said automatically. "Just don't do it, okay?"
"Okay?"
"But you know…" You rolled his eyes. "Okay."
You said without knowing what you wanted to say, seeing the pleasantly surprised expression on his face that unnerved you, and went back to your plate. Seeing yours reaction, he smiled smugly, but said nothing, just watched you.
Before you started arguing with him about splitting the bill, he'd already paid for everything, which shocked you, because you didn't even know when he'd done it. So, you just said you'd pay your half for dinner late, he ignored you completely. You didn't have the energy to argue with him, it was late and you had to get up for work tomorrow, so you left the topic for tomorrow.
You was surprised at how quickly you accepted that you'd see him at the same time tomorrow. It was quick. Too quick, but seeing a familiar face, not counting people you work with, first thing in the morning, and someone you liked, was nice.
"I'll walk you home." He offered himself. "It's late and you shouldn't be driving alone."
He started to explain before you could say anything, wanting to drive you, but you refused because you didn't live far. Maybe you shouldn't have said that, but it was too late to bite your tongue.
As you gays walked toward your apartment, you tried to hide your yawn, you knew it was already your bedtime.
"We should drive." He didn't hide it well enough.
"Um… Just a little bit more." you said, embarrassed.
When you got there, you stopped in front of your building.
"It's here." You said carefully. "Thanks for dinner."
"My pleasure." You returned his smile tiredly, but he didn't move.
"So… see you tomorrow?" You asked uncertainly, and you didn't move yourself.
"As always." He stood there, staring at you with his dangerous blue eyes. "Can I hug you?"
That threw you off balance and you looked at him with wide eyes. It was a direct question, to something so simple and complicated at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. You felt your body begin to warm, your heart begin to race, and your stomach lurch. It wasn't a new feeling, yet you felt as if it were.
You nodded confidently, not trusting your voice, watching as his hopeful eyes turned to pure joy, and before you knew it, he had you in his arms. You gasped in surprise when he did so, and instinctively tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you, tightening his grip even more. Not enough to stop you from breathing, but enough to keep you from moving. He rested his cheeks against your head and inhaled deeply.
"You smell so nice."
You freeze when he said those words.
It should have creepy you up, but it didn't. But at the same time, you wanted to, and didn't want to, tell him that you probably smell bad after work. Although you stood there motionless, waiting for something, the longer you stood there, the more he began to brighten up in spite of himself. You didn't want to admit to yourself how nice it felt to have someone hug you. And you weren't sure if he even wanted to let you go.
The warmth of his body warmed you, in a pleasant way you weren't sure how to describe, or rather, you didn't want to. Maybe you wanted to stand there in the middle of the sidewalk, only knowing you were increasingly reluctant to move.
His hand moved, and he began to slowly stroke your back. Slowly. He gently explored your space. You stilled for a moment when he started, but after a few more strokes, you relaxed again, and seeing your reaction, he didn't stop. You felt him smile against your skin, seeing the effect his actions had on you. He didn't seem to want to stop. You didn't want him to stop.
You slowly move your hands hesitantly, stopping before returning the hug, burying your face in his neck, trying to ignore the scent of his perfume.
You only told yourself it was premature, for such an intimate display of honor, simply because you'd only known each other for a few hours, but the way he affected you now was incredible. Terrifying. Because now you felt as if he had power over you and yet didn't, as if you were the most fragile being in existence, someone he should have protected and wanted to protect. You didn't know how it was that you could show someone your feelings in such a simple way. Like now, his body holding you with both gentleness and strength, overwhelming you. You wanted to run away, but you also wanted to stay. But you only tightened your grip to ground yourself, trying to control your own emotions, which were racing in different directions. Screaming for you to do something, but you just stood there, allowing a virtual stranger to hold you securely in his arms and stroke your back.
"I’ve got you..."
He whispered in your ear, keeping his voice low with a softness that gripped your heart.
These words shouldn't have had such an impact on you, but they did.
Pressing yourself into his body even further if that were possible and holding onto him as you tried to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes. You shouldn't feel this way. Not with someone you don't know at all.
You didn't consider herself the type to show physical affection. Appreciate the soft touch of another person.
You heard knocking at the door, and for a moment, you didn't know how you found yourself in bed, in your apartment, but then the events of last night hit you.
You were on a date. We chatted, ate dinner, he walked you home, and…
You felt a pang of shame wash over you, but it didn't last long, you heard the bell ring again.
You quickly grabbed your phone to see what time it was. You sighed in relief when you saw it wasn't even seven.
You sighed in frustration, rubbed your face with your hand, and dragged yourself out of bed. A shiver ran down your spine as you left your haven and threw on your sweatshirt.
As you approached the door, the only person you could think of who might come to you so early was your neighbor. She always came to you to help with something, and every time you couldn't refuse her because she was a terrible person, and even if you tried to find an excuse, she still found a way to help her, because who would help an old lady?
You were even warned by other neighbors not to help her because you couldn't escape from her. You helped her once, and two years later, you're still doing it. Without thinking much, without wondering how you looked, she opened the door, and your eyes met Bucky's.
"Hi, I brought you breakfast."
He raised his hands in confirmation, one a paper bag, the other a paper cup.
You stared at him with your eyes open.
You blinked. Once. Second time. But it wasn't a dream. He stood before you with his usual expression, and you'd only just gotten out of bed. You were very conscious of how you looked now.
"Can I come in?" he asked before you closed the door in his face.
"Uh… yeah…"
You said before biting your tongue. Why won't your mouth obey your reasonWhy your mouth won't listen to your mind?
You nodded off so he could come into your apartment.
"Take your shoes off," you said, before he delved deeper into your small commotion and only watched you for a few seconds, long enough for you to wonder what he meant, but he did as you asked.
He didn't hide the fact that he was looking at your space. You felt a little overwhelmed. Not only because of his appearance, but also because of how easily he made himself at home.
It wasn't a huge apartment, but it was enough for you. It had a combined kitchen and living room,one bedroom, and a bathroom next to it. There wasn't much in the room, except for a table, chairs, and a sofa that had already been there when you moved in. Beyond that, there was a bookshelf with books and other decorations you collected over the years, the pillows adorning your sofa, a coffee table with a flower he given you, which was also on the table. A small rug underneath. There were no paintings or photos on the walls. You rented the place, but even then, you didn't have anything to hang. It wasn't much, but at least it was yours.
You tried to discreetly fix your hair as he stood with his back to you, setting things down on the table.
"Nice place," he said as he turned his eyes in your direction, noticing your hand movement and laughing, knowing what you were doing.
You felt warmth surround your face.
"You know, maybe next time you doesn't come at this hour." you tried to sound irritated, but it didn't come off.
"Maybe."
You've just realized one thing.
"How did it know which one of my apartments it was?" You asked with a detached tone, unsure of the answer.
"It knocked on every door and asked about you."He seemed proud of it.
You sucked in a breath, not believing his words.
"At this hour? Bucky," you groaned in frustration.
"I have to know where you live." You looked at him with pity.
"It can wait until I get to work."
"No, it can't wait to see you, doll."
"It's new." You said your thoughts aloud.
"Don't you like it?"
"I said new, not that I don't like it." You couldn't believe waht you were saying.
"That good." He smiled at you. "You should eat something." He nodded towards the tables. "I brought you what you like."
Most of breakfast was silent, but not the kind that made you wonder what was happening, or rather, how much more comfortable it was than it should have been. He watched you the entire time, not seeming to notice anything else, and maybe you'd gotten used to it, because you didn't feel that strange fear in your body.
When you finished, he slowly got ready to leave your apartment and turned to face you.
"I wanted to drvingt you to work, but I can't." He didn't hide the disappointment you could hear as he sighed, his face reminding you of the sad puppy. You almost wanted to move away, tell him he that was fine and he would do it next time. You froze at yours own thoughts. "It was really nice to spend that time with you." The sadness was still there, but before you could do anything, he took a step towards you, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, though he didn't touch you. Even though he kept eye contact with you all the time, this time you felt like him looking directly at your soul. "You're looking so beautiful. I want to look at you every day like that."
You literally felt your face burning, and all you could do was stare at him, who was so pleased with your reaction. It seemed he wanted to do something, touch you, hug you, even kiss you, but you didn't know it when he quickly said goodbye, leaving you there.
You were hoping for a quiet day with no problems, but you were.
At first, you thought that once you pointed out the arguing, they might calm down, and they did for a moment. You heard the voices rise again at the other table. You couldn't quite make out their conversation, which was mostly in Russian.
However, you had to silence them again, because Kate didn't want to interfere, but you didn't blame her either. The older man's appearance didn't encourage conversation, and you couldn't admit to yourself that you didn't want to approach.
You had to, though, because no one else was there.
So you approached again, this time to get them out, because it was taking too long. You didn't want to call the police, who wouldn't do anything about it anyway, and there was nothing more you could do.
The man became more physically aggressive towards the girl, standing up without blinking and angrily grabbing her arm, trying to pull her up. You were between them and were pushed back by the man with the chin. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but you staggered. Instead of falling, you felt hands catching your shoulders, which helped you balance.
Surprised, you glanced back and saw his blue eyes staring at you with a strange, worried expression, though the rest of his face showed no other emotion. It sent a strange pang through your heart.
Before you could do anything, say anything, he moved and grabbed the man in front of you by the arm, hiding you behind his back.
The man glanced at Bucky, dissatisfied, and you saw something else. But it was only a second; you couldn't see much behind him.
"That Lady almost fell because of you." His voice held an unpleasant edge, even if he kept his voice low. "Leave that Lady alone," he said warningly, grabbing the man's forearm, before he grabbed the woman's arm again. "Just leave." He said it in a way that made you want to back away.
He left the café without a word, but before he stepped outside, he glanced over his shoulder and you swear he smiled to himself.
"Thank you and I'm sorry," the woman said, trying to maintain her composure, even though it was clear something was wrong.
"Is fine," you said, trying to get past Bucky, who only gently grabbed your forearm, as if the threat hadn't passed.
You glanced at him and saw the sharpness in his expression, but before you could ask what was going on, the short, blond woman stood up. Without saying anything else, she walked past you.
The woman disappeared behind him before you even said anything to her, she wasn't even paying the bill.
"Wait. You have to pay—"
"I'll pay, doll." Bucky interrupted, still holding your arm.
"No. She—"
"I'll pay." He insisted, and you felt his hands tighten around you.
"But—"
"I'll pay. And that's it." He didn't raise his voice, but you could see he was upset about what he'd done. "Okay?" This time it sounded soft, even guilty.
You were silent for a moment, watching his face. You wanted to ask what was going on, but you held back. You didn't feel you were close enough to him to ask about anything like that, though it was an excuse, because you didn't have the courage to do so.
"Okay," you said coherently.
"Here, this is for you."
You shouldn't be surprised anymore, and you still weren't when he handed you a black box the size of a glass, tied with a red ribbon. You returned your gaze to him.
"Open it." He encouraged you, but a strange shadow crossed his face. You felt like with each meeting, you had more questions than answers. That wasn't how it was supposed to work.
You were a little grateful there wasn't a clique right now, even though you could feel Kate's eyes on your back and knew she wouldn't let you rest, because of the mysterious, handsome, elegant man giving you a gift. Trying to ignore it, and your shaking hands, which you were trying to control, you opened the box. Inside was a heart-shaped bottle marked "107" from a company you didn't recognize.
"I hope I got it."
You pulled it out of the box and sprayed it on your wrist. You were surprised when the scent was very similar to the ones you normally used. You sprayed it on him, not knowing what to say. How could a man possibly know something like that, because you hadn't said anything yourself, and he hadn't asked. Did he have a super sense of smell or something?
"I got it." It wasn't a question, but the satisfaction was written all over his face.
"They're... practically the same."
"But do you like their scent?" Even though he knew the answer to that question, he asked it anyway.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure how to interpret it. Good or bad? Should you bother or not? You shouldn't even ask about it anymore. He knew where you lived.
"They're... pretty." You said slowly. "I like them."
"Me too. They suit you." Happy was the word that could describe his facial expression. Was it even possible to be that happy? Or to be happy for someone else and not ask for anything in return?
"When did you have time for this?" you asked, taking a look on the bottle.
"I had a moment."
But you still had tons of questions.
You hadn't expected to see him today. It was evening when he'd lasted. It felt strange to see him at such an hour. Although strange wasn't the word you wanted to use, because you didn't want to admit to yourself that, in a strange way, you felt relieved when he arrived. You shouldn't feel this way, feeling strangely relieved when you didn't see him. Not even for a minute.
Although he was the one who found personas just to see you, even for a second. It was nice to see someone care about you even a little, though you knew that even a little was too kind, especially when it came to Bucky.
Although when he approached you, you saw that he didn't have the same twinkle in his eyes you always saw him with.
"Coffee here, and with one of those adorable drawings you make." Maybe if you didn't know him well enough you wouldn't have noticed how much effort was hidden behind his voice.
You didn't know what was going on in his mind at that moment, you could only tell it was a lot, because he was always focused on you, even when he didn't say anything. You didn't ask him anything. You still weren't sure how to approach him. It sounded childish, but it was hard to read him, even if he tried, in his own way, to show you how much he cared about you. You didn't quite understand, or rather, you didn't want to get carried away by your emotions and regret it later. It had happened to you too many times.
Something changed in his expression. A deepening worry deepened, a concern you had no idea about. He thanked you and took his order with him to one of the table.
It was a strange image, men wearing elegant clothes, with a cute mug with a drawing of a cat.
It was a charming sight for you, though his gaze didn't do what it always did. Him looked at you. You miss this warmth.
You hadn't seen him like this since you first met him. Or rather never. He was silent, yet his gaze spoke ludly, but not like this. And now you saw the anguish in them, even though he wasn't looking at you.
There was another table besides him, but they were busy with themselves.
You picked up the broom and slowly began sweeping, moving towards him.
You didn't know if you were doing it so the manager wouldn't see you, or because you weren't sure if Bucky wanted your company. You set the broom down in front of another table and reached for it, glancing over your shoulder.
He glanced at you, but he was more absent-minded than looking past you. You propped your chin on your hand and placed the other one flat on your back. You glanced back again. Still nothing.
You did something a little silly and embarrassing. You started to wriggle your finger at him with your free hand, playing. Like a child. You ignored the warmth starting to envelop your face.
You nudged his hand with one of yours fingers, observing his reaction.
"What's going on?" you asked softly, a little uncertain, leaning in towards him.
"Work." "He sighed, observing your hand on the table, then gently grabbed your fingertips with his.
"Don't tell me." You sighed in confirmation, thinking you knew what he meant. "But nothing interesting?"
"Everything's just not going as it should." He slowly began to run his thumb over your hand.
"Reasonably." You were watching his movements with your hand, wanting him to take off his glove so you could feel his skin against yours.
Focus.
"But it's better now." You looked up at him and saw that he'd somehow realized he was himself again.
You didn't want to admit to youself how much the little things, the words, the actions he did, were starting to affect you. You missed the way someone paid attention to you.
"I wanted to give it to you after I walked you home."
You smirked, watching him pull long, black pants from his coat.
"You doesn't have to give me something every time. Series." You didn't accept his gift when he handed it to you, but stared directly into his eyes.
"But I do. I like giving you gifts."
You took a breath, feeling his worry transfer from him to you.
"Even if I do, I feel a little bad when I receive them," you said honestly. "I didn't give you anything."
"It's enough for me that you want to spend time with me."
"Bucky—"
"I'm serious." He squeezed your hand in confirmation. "Just talk to me. You have a nice voice."
You chuckled to youself and accepted the gift hesitantly. You didn't open it, just wandered around it. He wasn't asking you for a lot, for something that somehow a lot of people want, and you tried not to think about wanting to repay him. Although you shouldn't. He did it because he wanted to, and you tried to focus on that.
You opened the box and gasped. You closed it and placed it on the table, pushing it back toward him.
"Bucky." You didn't hide his disbelief in his voice, but also you sharpness. "I can't give this away. It's…"
"A gift." He pushed it back toward you.
"No—"
"Gifts, I don't give away."
She shook her head.
"It's too expensive to carry anywhere." You was starting to panic. "I don't even know where to wear it. What if I lose it?" You started to struggle, trying to find any excuse.
"If you lose it, I'll buy you a new one." It was meant to sound joking, but you didn't get it.
"Bucky!" You cut him off.
He took the box and pulled out a silver bracelet with a diamond star. He held it out towards you, inviting you to give it to him.
You stared at him in disbelief. You gasped, and he extended his wrist toward you, a little hesitantly.
"Bucky, I'm serious, if I lose this…" He gave it to you before you could even take it. It fit perfectly against your skin. Too perfectly.
"You don't," he said to you confidently, pressing his fingers against your skin where the jewelry was. "I'm serious too."
You didn't know what to do with it, because you wanted to do something, but you didn't know what. You'll yell at him to leave you alone, even though you didn't want me to. Say someone else deserves it. Probably.
"You know…" you started to him, even though he was also talking to himself. "Gifts like that are given to wives, not people who barely know each other." You said quietly, trying to joke, avoiding yors own guilt as you watched your wrist.
"I think you give yourself to someone you care about as a gift," he said calmly, tilting his head.
"I have a question," you said uncertainly, you eyes darting to him.
"Just ask."
You sighed, for the second time in a short time.
"Are-are you trying to bribe me so I don't know…" she wondered, raising your gaze agine to him. "Spending time with me."
He glanced away, wondering, trying to hide a smile.
"Does it work?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, trying to hide his own amusement at this station.
"Oh my God. Really?"
"I'm not going to apologize for wanting to give you gifts. You deserve it."
"But—"
"I don't care how long we've known each other," he pressed you. "Let me do it."
You sighed slowly, watching him.
"Okay, but that doesn't mean I like it," she warned him.
You heard someone cough to get your attention. Immediately, when you saw it was the manager, you quickly got to yours feet, almost tripping over them. You didn't notice how much Bucky's face had a dissatisfied expression on his face, but he didn't say anything.
Of course, you got a scolding, even though there was almost no one left in the cafeteria, but you had to clean up before closing, not flirt while working. He didn't help you, you just normal employee, whom should have taken care of everything. Of course, you didn't miss the moment he noticed your new jewelry on your wrist. He also thought you wouldn't see his reaction when he turned to you, pacing to disappear behind the curtains, but you saw him roll his eyes at that. There was a hint of disbelief. Maybe jealousy. How could you get such an expensive gift, and he couldn't even have his own car, which he kept complaining about?
After closing, Bucky did as he'd said earlier, waiting to walk you home, but before you could poke around in that direction, he insisted on buying you dinner. At first, you refused; you kept doing it, but he ignored you, leading you to the restaurant. You sighed, gave in and ordered.
"Is that all?" he asked, seeing how little you'd ordered.
"Yes. Too much." You said, ignoring the worried expression on his face.
This time he sighed and ordered a few more things. You thought he'd order them for himself, but he gave you all the food when you were at your door.
"Is this some way for me to invite you in? - You laughed nervously as you opened your door.
"No," he said, not thinking twice about your question.
"I guess you're not that clueless."
"I'm not, but I'm not that kind of person either." He studied your face before asking, perhaps a little disappointed. "Do you think I'm that kind of person?"
"No!" You surprised youself with you sudden behavior. "It's just…"
"I know. It's okay," he assured you.
"Is not. I shouldn't suspect something like that." You sighed, frustrated with yourself.
He chuckled under his breath.
"Goodnight." He said your name as he got closer to your face, but still far enough away to see your entire face. You weren't sure what he would do, so you stiffened in surprise.
But he moved away and started heading towards the stairs.
You bit your lip and felt guilty, but you wasn't doing it because of that.
"Bucky." He paused before ducking around the corner and glanced in your direction. "That's a lot of food, and I don't want it to go to waste. Want to join me?"
He looked at you for a moment.
"Are you sure?" For the first time, you heard hesitation in him. Not certainty.
"Definitely." You smiled to confirm your own words.
He hesitated for a moment, and you could see it yourself as he headed your way. You entered the living room, and he followed you.
You walked to the table and set down your bag, watching him out of the corner of your eye. At first, he could see his hesitation as he walked through your apartment.
"I'm glad you didn't bring me flowers any more, otherwise we wouldn't have had a drink," you joked as you pulled it mugs.
For the first time, you were the one with more self-confident. You didn't know how to intervene, his reserve. Did he not trust himself? Should you be worried? Or maybe he wasn't sure about the space in your apartment, but when he last came over, he acted differently, just like usual. Now he was quieter, less penetrating, nervous. You weren't sure if that was the reason, but you didn't want to ask either. Although you didn't want to find out what the reason was. So practically throughout the entire meal, there was silence, knowing you, and this time, you were the one watching him the entire time.
He seemed to appreciate the lack of conversation more in moments like these. Was he more relaxed now? Was that his true self? Not the one who constantly surprised you, make you blush, and told you everything he was thinking?
"When we were interrupted." It started slowly, looking at you with their eyes. "I said I was giving you a gift because I wanted to, and it's true. But also…" You waited steadily, until he found the strength or the words he was searching for to convey his thoughts. "Get your attention… Show me that I care. I know how it looks, but it's been a while since I've had anyone I cared about so much." He paused for a moment, trying to find another words before starting again. "And yes, it's simple for me. I know that with time I'll be able to show it differently. I just don't trust myself with my emotions."
"Bucky… I understand what you mean." You smiled at him. "Really. But aren't you afraid I'm here for your money?" You finally gathered the courage to ask one of the many questions you had for him.
"No, do you know why?" Bucky, who was still down to earth, spoke again, but you also see the real him, who was no longer hiding behind his strange mask of certainty. "Because I know that if you were, you wouldn't feel guilty about this, but you do, and I can see it. And I also know you want to reciprocate, but you shouldn't. Just being here, or rather, letting me be here, is enough for me."
You tried to hold back the tears that were pricking your eyes, trying to breathe deeply. You avoided his gaze, though there was no way he hadn't noticed. How he knows what to say to make you feel worthy?
"Can I hug you?" You heard, and your right away you nodded your head in confirmation.
You only heard the chair being pushed back and his footsteps approaching you. He gently lifted you into his embrace. You immediately buried your head in his shoulder as he led you to the sofa. He sat down and placed you on his lap. You melted into him completely, absorbing his warmth and scent.
You cried, but it was a silent palace that grew fainter with each passing minute. You focused more on the way his hand moved soothingly over your shoulder, his head resting on the top of yours. His breathing was calm, even though his heart was beating rapidly.
You took his other hand in yours and he froze for a moment, begging to return to what he was doing, but more carefully.
"I'm sorry." Your weak voice could be heard like an echo moving through the quiet apartment.
"You shouldn't." He hugged you tight.
"I know, but…"
"It's fine. Really. Just breathe in." He guided you when he noticed you couldn't breathe agian. "And breathe out."
Repeat this action a few more times until your breathing calmed down.
"Buck?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me."
You pulled away to glare at him. You knew you looked awful and tried to compose youself, wiping your tear with your sleeve.
"I don't have to, but I want to." You might not have sounded the most confident, your voice strained from crying, but you didn't care. "It means a lot to me." You gestured between you. "More people would ask me what's going on, but you don't. So thank you."
He stared at you, then wiped the lone tear from your cheek with his hand and settled himself so that all his eyes were level.
"You're welcome." He smiled, now holding your face in both hands to make sure you were absorbed in his blue eyes, which you could easily get lost in. "I'll always be here for you. Okay?" He rested your eyes against his.
You felt your heart skip a beat and wanted to thank him again, but you held it back.
"Okay."
You snuggled into him again, not wanting to let him go.
If you like it comment and reblog ❤️
DIVIDERS by @angeliicide
Reblog if you will never. Ever. Use AI in your writing.
An ancient vampire spends centuries fighting against a family of vampire hunters. In the 21st century he notices that he's been fighting the same hunter for nearly 50 years with no sign of any kids. Out of curiosity he asks and the hunter responds "Kid chose College. It's only me now."
REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPTS
Too many beds
Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss
Really nice guy who hates only you
Academic rivals except it’s two teachers who compete to have the best class
Divorce of convenience
Too much communication
True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)
Dating your enemy’s sibling
Lovers to enemies
Hate at first sight
Love triangle where the two love interests get together instead
Fake amnesia
Soulmates who are fated to kill each other
Strangers to enemies
Instead of fake dating, everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating
Too hot to cuddle
Love interest CEO is a himbo/bimbo who runs their company into the ground
Nursing home au
