hot to go!
firefighter!bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary. what melts a cold firefighters heart? hint, it's not the fire. 12.4k words.
cw. pining. age gap. yearning. j*hn walker. eventual smut. soft sex. p in v. use of "doll" because ik a lot of u hate it. eye contact. praise. alpine gets stuck in a tree. fred.
a/n. its literally 3 am i cant se ei cant type prioper;ly. hope thetre's not spelling mistales. this is not my best work. at all. i;m gonna kms. alpine is a boy because my aunt has a white cat who is a boy, therefore alpine is a boy in this. if u don't like the tags, don't read it. if you click past read more besides the tags and get upset over what's written, that's not my problem whatsoever. this isn't even proofread. idgaf anymore #YOLO
taglist. @54nboo @demiebarnes @kararchives @1dluver13xx @devililithh @iownguns @loki-licious-945ad @ruexj283 @henrywinterreincarnate @biggestfangirl @buckybuckybuckysstuff @mrsalexstan @pretty-girl-rock-3 @riot-sounds @ambervanth @hiraethmae @btwbaureidrc @overwintering-soldier @fluorjscent @sweetserendipity65 @icwallittrashmagic @user27386 @buckysbaker @kittieboo @pixviee @moonyxxbarnes @rhythmnobleus @barnesonly @avgdestitute @star-yawnznn @thenedicouncil @vxllys @sassandscribbles @resting-confused-face @alex-cheraya @nandanandada @iheartnostalgia @sept3mberchild @fallingwallsh @iamthatonefangirl @flockoff-featherface @prettyliittleviolets @milkyasteroids @sebastians-love
sorry if i missed you! lemme know in the comments.
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the bass was really loud. it felt like a monster deep in your chest, making the floorboards under your sandals shake like an earthquake. you clutched your shirley temple. you found the condensation annoyingly cold, and tried to sculpt your face into something that looked like fun, instead of panic.Β
you felt like a neon sign. your soft, floral sundress was certainly a difference against the sea of black leather, ripped denim, and bodycon dresses that clung to everyone else. natasha, yelena, and sharon moved through the throng like they belonged in it.
"you look like you're waiting for a bus, not for a hot guy to buy you a drink," sharon laughed, her voice was almost muffled through the music as she leaned in close.
"i'm people-watching!" you shouted back.
"you're moping," yelena took a sip of her drink "this is a bar, not an aquarium. the fish aren't that interesting."
before you could muster a defense against her words, natashaβs hand was around your wrist. "people-watching is officially over. time to move."
"nat, no, i'm okayβreally! i promise!"
"nope. youβve been a wallflower for an hour, darling girl. my mission for tonight is to make you sweat in that very pretty dress of yours." she didn't wait, and instead pulled you through the press of bodies until you were swallowed whole by the heart of the dance floor.
the music was even louder here and it made you want to claw out of your ribs just to stop feeling the vibrations. you moved with a self-conscious little sway, like a clumsy little sparrow caught in a flock of hawks. you smoothed down the skirt of your sundress, which was a useless gesture against the feeling of being completely on display.
"relax!" natasha yelled, her body moving in a way that seemed to defy physics. "just feel it!"
you closed your eyes, trying to let the beat sink into your bones, to become part of the crowd as easily as your friends had.Β
thatβs when you felt a tap on your shoulder. you turned to see a woman with pink hair and a smile that.. just knew things. "hey," she said, jerking her thumb toward the entrance. "theyβre here."
you blinked, the synth-pop still rattling your teeth. "huh? whoβs here?"
"unit 1917. the firefighters. they roll in every friday. best show in town." she gave you a wink and a quick flash of her smile before disappearing back into the dark.
you turned to natasha, confusion knitting into your brow. "firefighters?"
she just grinned against the flash of neon lights. "oh yeah. itβs like the main event of the night." she looked at you with an eyebrow raised, and grabbed you by the shoulders, forcing you to turn. " look."
as if on cue, the crowd near the wooden doors seemed to part, making a path.Β
and then they walked in. a group of them, seven or eight, walked into the bar. they were still in their dark blue station t-shirts and pants, looking like theyβd just come from a call, smelling like like smoke.
"oh, perfect timing," sharon breathed, suddenly behind you, "thatβs steve rogers. captain of the unit. total golden retriever. and that," she nodded toward the woman with brown hair and bright blue eyes, "is maria hill. she runs the place, even if she doesn't own it."
you followed her gaze. a woman with a smirk and blonde hair was already leaning over the bar, carol danvers as sharon told you. a man built like a brick wall with a gentle face stood beside her, like a little puppy, bob reynolds. then, some man with an arrogant posture that reeked of a bachelors degree in bimbo-ness, john walkerβscanned the room like he was plotting and planning how he'd fuck it all up. a woman with dark eyes and a judging face, ava starr, stood silently with sam wilson, who was talking with his hands, and a smile on his face. they were almost a spectacle, a really loud.
and then your eyes found its anchor among the sea. he was older. not in a way that meant old, but in a way that meantΒ more. he had to duck slightly to get into the doorframe. where the others had already fanned out, laughing while heading for the bar, he lingered there.Β
his arms were crossed over his chest, making him look like a walking wall. the fabric of his station shirt stretched over shoulders and you couldn't help but let your eyes trail all over him, tilting your head like a curious puppy. his hair was long, dried with sweat and tucked behind his ears. he was shadowed with stubble, which held a set line of pure stoicism.Β
"who⦠who is that?" you asked.
natasha followed your gaze, her features soften into something almost thoughtful. "oh. thatβs bucky barnes. heβsβ¦ old school. and he's been there forever, i think. always quiet and keeps to himself."
you couldnβt look away.Β
he was like a statue, standing in a river. suddenly, as if he felt the pull of your eyes across the crowded room, his eyes stopped. locking directly onto you.
you were just a girl in a sundress, who also happened to be frozen in the middle of the dance floor, but his eyes stilled on you. somehow. it wasn't a leer, but a deep look that stripped away everything else around, until it was just the two of you in the dark.Β
your stomach did a wild flip, seeming to have grown their own butterflies.
you instantly dropped your eyes to your feet, and as if yelena noticed, she approached you. "see something you like?" yelena teased, nudging you hard enough to make you stumble.
"no! i justβ¦ heβs veryβ¦"
"huge?" sharon offered, raising an eyebrow. "thatβs one word for it. heβs also a known grump. he doesn't talk to anyone here. so maybe set your sights on captain america over there. he's safe."
but you were a moth to a flame, drawn to him so you just had to look back. and he was still looking but as a strobe light flashed, you saw itβthe slightest tilt of his head. like a questioning acknowledgment. a secret passed between you in the middle of a crowd.
you suddenly felt incredibly seen. not as one of the crowd, but as you were. and for the first time all night, the music didn't seem too loud, and your dress didn't feel too bright. it just felt like you.Β
"hey! get over here! we need a fourth for teams!" it was sharon. you'd know her voice anywhere. even from afar, through the muffled music, through the crowd.
you shook your head immediately, and suddenly a nervous flutter kicked up through your body. you were tucked against the wall, and the pool table seemed like a continent away, surrounded by even more people than you had originally signed up for.
you could hear the firefighters talking all around, their voices bouncing off the walls. "fuck's this song?" "that's super bass, buck." "super what?"
so you replied with, "no, that's okay! i don't really know how to play!" offering a wave to hush it down.
you should have known better. natashaβs hand was on your wrist right away. "that's the point of having fun. you learn." she didn't give you a chance to protest and just started pulling you through the crowd. "maria won't stop bragging about her skills. we need to take her down."
before you could even process it, you were being deposited next to the pool table. sharon was already chalking a cue. maria hill stood opposite her, looking utterly unimpressed by the entire concept of fun.
"great. a ringer," maria said dryly, looking over to you. "you sure you can handle this, kid?"
"i, um. i know the balls are different colors?" you offered, coming out far too small.
sharon just laughed. "don't worry, we'llβ" she was cut off as figure stepped directly into your line of sight, blocking out the lights.
"well, hey there."
that bimbo who scanned the room like he wanted to fuck it up had materialized like casper the ghost. john walker leaned against the pool table with a confident smile on his face.Β
he was certainly handsome, in an all-american way. he looked you up and down, and for a second, the look was openly appreciative. "haven't seen you around before. new recruit?"
you clutched the pool cue natasha had shoved into your hands like a lifeline. "oh. no. i'm just... here. with friends."
"lucky friends," he said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he extended a hand. "john walker. unit 1917."
you shifted the cue to your left hand and shook his. your grip wasΒ probably embarrassingly weak and you could tell he knew by the way his eyebrows shook as he looked at your hand. or maybe it was the stupid wristband you were wearing that made you stick out like a sore thumb. "hi."
"so," he said, leaning a little closer. "what's a nice girl in a pretty dress like you doing in a place like this?"
you blinked. it was a line. it definitely was. "my friends brought me," you answered, honestly. "they said i needed to get out more."
he chuckled. you could tell it was forced. "they were right. a girl like you shouldn't be hiding in the corner. you ever been to the spot down on eighth? much more your speed. quieter. better drinks. less..." he gestured vaguely at the crowd around you. "...this."
"i... i don't really go to bars," you admitted, feeling your cheeks turn red. "this is kind of my first time. at a place like this, i mean."
the smile on his face tightened, you can tell heβd been expecting a different answer. "no kidding. where do you usually go, then?"
"mostly just coffee shops. or the park. sometimes the library." you cringed internally at your words as you spoke them and you realized you sounded about twelve years old.
"the library," he repeated, and the initial spark of interest in his eyes faded into a sort of polite, bemused curiosity. he wasn't being rude, not at all. he was just... recalibrating. this wasn't the conversation he'd expected to have. "what do you do? for fun, i mean. besides reading."
"i like to bake," you said, perking up a little at a subject you could actually talk about. your head had tilted slightly, showing you were more interested in the conversation now but he seemed to have crawled in on himself and he wasn't so carefree in his posture anymore. "i made these lavender shortbread cookies last week that turned out really well. and i have a hamster. his name is fred."
john stared at you for a moment before he let out a short laugh. he wasn't mocking you, or making fun of you. it seemed he was just genuinely surprised. "fred the hamster."
you nodded as a shy, hesitant smile touches your lips. "he's very fussy. you have to refill his food dish exactly at 7 p.m. or he starts rattling the bars of his cage. it's very passive-aggressive."
"right," john said, nodding slowly. he looked over your shoulder, as if looking for an escape route or a more familiar face. heβd come over expecting one kind of girl and found another entirely. he wasn't disappointed, exactly. just kind of... lost. "well. that's... something."
"it is!" you agreed, blissfully unaware of his fading attraction, happy to talk about fred. "he has this little wheel he runs on all night. it sounds like a tiny, angry motorcycle. sometimes i have to move him to the living room so i can sleepβ"
"walker!" a voice called from across the barβsteve rogers, who you recognized as the captain, waving him over to where the rest of the unit was buying a round. "you in for this?"
john opened his mouth, likely to give steve some easy excuse, but before a single syllable could leave his lips, a large shape materialized just behind his shoulder.
his metal hand glinted under the lights, that's how you realized who he wasβbucky barnes. "get lost, walker."
john flinched, before turning his head. "barnes. hey. i'm fine here, just having aβ"
"you're in the way," bucky's voice was monotonous. during this whole exchange, his eyes weren't even on walker; they were fixed on you, eyebrows furrowing slightly like he's assessing you.
for a second, john looked like he might argue. his jaw tightened with a flash of irritation. but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a resigned acceptance. he turned back to you with that polite smile back on his face.
"duty calls, i guess. it was, uh, nice meeting you..." he trailed off, still having no idea what your name was.
"you too, john," you murmured, watching as he scurried away, melting back into the crowd toward steve and the others.
and then it was just you. and him.
bucky barnes stood there. he didn't move closer, but he didn't smile either. he just looked at you, so direct it should have been uncomfortable, but somehow⦠it wasn't.
"sorry 'bout him," he said after a moment. his voice was still that low timbre, but softer and more understanding, like something reserved for.. god knows what. "doesn't know social cues. jus' sees something pretty and starts talkin'. and doesn't know what to do when it's got a brain."
your heart was hammering against your ribs.Β something pretty. he thought you were pretty. you held onto the pool cue tighter. honestly by now, you'd completely forgotten about sharon, natasha, and maria.
"oh, it's okay, really," you rushed out, a nervous laugh bubbling up. "he was nice. justβ¦ i think we didn't have a lot in common, i think. besides, i'm used to it. my friends are always dragging me places i don't fit in. i'm sort of aβ¦ a professional third wheel, i guess. a wallflower. aβ¦ well, you get it. i'm just not really a bar person. or a pool person. i'm more of aβ¦ a blanket-and-a-book person. or a trying-to-keep-fred-from-chewing-through-his-habitat person. you know, fred, my hamster, has already escaped twice. once he got into the pantry and i found him sleeping in a box of tea bags. he smelled like chamomile for a weekβ"
you realized you were rambling. you were word-vomiting all over this giant, intimidating, beautiful man who had just saved you from a conversation you didn't know how to keep going. you snapped your mouth shut, feeling a hot blush creep all the way up.
"i'm sorry," you whispered, looking down at your shoes. "i talk a lot when i'm nervous."
there was silence. not the awkward kind.. just silence. then, you heard a soft sound, causing you to look up.
bucky barnes was smiling. it was just a small tilt at the very corner of his mouth, but it had changed his face completely, softening the intimidation on his face, made his eyes warm into something softer.
"don't be sorry," he took a step closer, definitely not trying to crowd you, but his presence seemed to envelop you either way, making a quiet space in the loud room. "keep talkin'."
"really?" you asked.
"really." his eyes never left yours. "fred sounds like a real handful. tell me about the great escape."
"well, he justβpoof!βvanished," you said, your hands flying up to illustrate the point as you speak, a habit you come to learn that you do a lot, the pool cue wobbling in your hands. "i turned my back for one second to get his little treat, and the cage door was just... open. i have no idea how he does it. he's a little houdini. a fuzzy houdini with no thumbs."
bucky just listened, his arms crossed over his chest. his eyes never left your face. you couldn't read his expression but continued anyway.
"so i'm tearing the apartment apart," you continued, the words tumbled out in an excited rush. "i'm looking under the couch, behind the bookshelvesβhe once got stuck behind my copy ofΒ war and peace, which, fair, it's a very thick bookβand i'm starting to genuinely panic. what if he got into the walls? what if he's chewing on electrical wiresβ"
you gestured wildly, and the pool cue swung straight toward bucky's sternum. you gasped like you were surprised the cue you were waving around hit him, but before you could even apologize, his hand snapped up, closing around the cue just above your own grip, stopping its momentum.Β
"maybe i shouldβ¦" he said, his voice even lower, a rough whisper meant just for you. "...take this."
"sorry!" you squeaked, watching the cue go to his hands. "i'm so sorry, i didn'tβ"
"βs okay," he murmured lowly. "didn't even feel it." he didn't let go of the cue immediately. his eyes dropped to where your hands were for a second. his eyes caught the wristband from the bar, the one that marked you as underage, no alcohol.
his eyes snapped back to yours, but now there was something else there, a softness at the edges. he slowly released his hold.
"so?" he prompted, his voice even quieter, pulling you back. "where was he?"
"oh! right!" you caught your breath, trying to continue on with your story, rarely even paying any mind to what bucky is doing. "so i finally find him. in the pantry. he'd somehow climbed up a bag of riceβwhich, impressive, reallyβand he was just... nestled in a box of earl grey tea bags. sleeping. like a little, smug, brown-and-white king. he smelled like chamomile for a week."
a rough sound escaped him. it wasn't quite a laugh, butΒ quiet exhale of amusement. the corner of his mouth tilted up again, and this time it was a little more than the last. your heart did a funny little flip.
"he sounds like a menace," he said, and the way he said it, with that deep, yet quiet voice, made it sound like the highest compliment.
"he is! but he's my menace," you said. "and i read to him, you know? i read somewhere that hamsters like the vibration of a calm voice. so sometimes, i sit by his cage and i read my historical fiction novels out loud. he seems to like it. he stops running on his wheel and just... listens. or maybe he's just judging my pacing. it's hard to tell with fred."
you were rambling again, you knew you were, but he was just watching you with that small smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he wasn't looking at your friends, he wasn't checking his phone, he was just... there. with you.
"what's his favorite book?" bucky asked, completely serious.
"oh, he's partial to anything with a sea voyage," you confided, leaning in a little closer as if sharing a secret. "i think he likes the descriptions of the waves. or maybe he just thinks the pirates are cool. i tried reading him a romance novel onceβthe duke's secret passionβand he went right back to his wheel. very dismissive."
that got a full huff of laughter from him. "a critic."
"the worst," you agreed, nodding solemnly. "so yeah. that's me. and fred. we mostly just hang out at home. it's... quiet. it's nice. i know it's probably really boring compared to... well, to all this." you gestured at the bar around you.
his smile softened and he shook his head. "no. no, it sounds real nice. peaceful."
"it is," you whispered, feeling suddenly brave. "you'd be welcome to come over and judge my reading selection for fred sometime. if you want. no pressure!"
the words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. you clapped a hand over your lips, your eyes going wide. "oh my god, i'm so sorry, that was so forward, i didn't meanβ"
"i'd like that," he interrupted, cutting off your spiral. "i'd like that a lot."
you just stared at him with your hand still over your mouth. he wasn't laughing, nor was he making fun of you. he was just looking at you with your stupid wristband and your floral dress and your stories about a fussy hamster, and he looked... genuinely interested.
"yeah?" you finally managed to breathe out.
"yeah," he confirmed, and the look in his eyes promised he meant it. "so," he murmured, and he did take a small step closer now. you had to tilt your head back to look up at him. "a blanket-and-a-book person. what kind of books?"
"oh, everything. but mostly historical fiction. and the occasional⦠well, romance," you admitted, feeling daring.
that small smile touched his lips again. "romance, huh?"
"the cheesier the better," you confirmed, nodding vigorously. "if there's a duke involved, i'm sold. fred seems to prefer pirate stories, though. he gets very still for those."
"noted," he said, and the way he said it, so serious. he was still looking at you like you were the only person in the entire universe right now.
a cleared throat made you both jump. you hadn't even noticed natasha approaching, a wicked grin on her face.
"as adorable as this is, and it is truly nauseatingly sweet," she said, her eyes dancing between the two of you. "we are here to play pool. and you," she pointed her cue at bucky, "are holding up the game. and you," she turned to you, "are glowing brighter than the neon sign over the bar. so either ask her to dance, barnes, or let her take her shot. she's stripes, by the way. try not to let her break the table."
your cheeks flushed even hotter, if that was even possible. you were glowing. she'd said you were glowing. you chanced a lookup at bucky, who was looking down at you, though the ghost of that smile still played on his lips.
"right. pool," you mumbled, turning back to the table. the green felt seemed to stretch out for miles. the cue felt heavy in your hands. you were stripes. you had no idea what that meant.
bucky gently placed the cue back into your waiting hands. you fumbled, the cue slipping, and the end swung backward, thumping against his thigh.
you whirled around, mortified. "oh my god, i'm soβ"
"didn't feel that either, doll," he chuckled lowly, looking down at you. "aim for the white ball. just try and hit it straight on."
right. the white ball. you could do that.
you turned back, leaning over the table awkwardly, your sundress feeling suddenly too thin, too short for this. you lined up the shot, tongue peeking out in concentration. you pulled the cue back, and with a determined thrust, you jabbed it forward.
you missed the white ball entirely. the tip of the cue scraped across the green with a screech and slammed into the side of the table with a thunk. a few people nearby snickered.
you took a step back with your eyebrows furrowed. you wished the floor would just swallow you whole. "i told you i didn't know how to play," you mumbled to bucky.
a chuckle came from him. "'s okay. everyone starts somewhere."
then you felt him. his chest pressed against your back. his arms came around either side of you, his flesh hand, settled firmly on your waist. his other hand, metal, closed over yours on the cue. he was everywhere, all at once, surrounding you.
he leaned in closer, his head dipping next to yours. "like this," he said right by your ear. as he adjusted his stance, you felt itβthe scrape of his stubble against the skin of your neck, right where the strap of your sundress didn't cover.
you heard his breath, just slightly. his hand on your waist tightened, pulling you back just more firmly against him.
"you cold?" he asked, although he knew you weren't.
"no," you managed to stutter out, a little too quickly.
"good." he adjusted your grip over your fingers. "don't jab it. it's a smooth motion. follow through." he guided your hands back, body moving with yours. then he pushed forward, his hips against your backside, and guiding your arms through the shot.
the cue struck the white ball with a perfectly. it shot forward, slamming into the triangle of balls with a break that sends them scattering across the table. one striped ballβpurple, you thinkβdropped neatly into a corner pocket.
a few whoops and cheers went up from your friends. you barely heard them.
all you could feel was him at your back, the way he hadn't immediately moved away. his head was still bent close to yours, his lips close to your ear.
"see?" he said. "you're a natural."
you were pretty sure you'd forgotten how to exist for a moment. you were melting into him, along with the music, the crowd, the entire bar. especially the memory of his rough stubble on your neck.
he slowly straightened up, hand sliding from your waist and it felt like a caress. then, he took a step back.
you turned to face him, your pool cue hanging at your side. your heart felt like it was trying to escape. his eyes were fixed on you, and you saw it there, tooβthe same dizzying tension that made your knees feel weak.
natasha wolf-whistled from somewhere behind you, breaking the spell. "pay up, hill! i told you barnes was a good teacher!"
bucky's eyes didn't leave yours. he gave you that small, almost-smile again, as a secret shared just between the two of you in the middle of everything.
"lucky shot," you breathed out.
"wasn't luck," he replied. he looked down at your lips for a second. "you're full of surprises."
he reached out, gently brushing your elbow. "you wanna get out of here? find someplace... quieter? where we can actually hear each other think."
it was an invitation to escape. your eyes shifted over to your friends. sharon gave you two enthusiastic thumbs up. yelena mimed pushing you toward him. natasha just raised her glass.
you looked back at bucky, at this older man who listened to stories about your hamster and didn't think you were boring. who made your heart feel like it was beating a brand new rhythm it never has before.
a smile finally spread across your face, one that reached your eyes for the first time all night.
you stood there for a long moment. the noise of the bar seemed to swell, but it all felt.. so far, and muted.
your eyes were locked on bucky's, on the patience and question, but a guilt needled its way through the attraction. you couldn't just abandon them. you'd begged them to bring you, and now you were going to ditch them for the first handsome, mysterious older man who showed you an ounce of kindness?
your eyes broke from his, darting over to your friends. sharon was lining up a shot with concentration, yelena was heckling maria hill, and natasha was already watching you.
"i..." you started, and swallowed, trying to find more courage. "i can't just leave the game," you whispered.
bucky heard you anyway. he didn't push. he just gave the smallest, most understanding nod, as if he'd fully expected that answer.
that made you turn fully to natasha. you took a step toward her. "nat, i'm so sorryβthe game, we just started, and you've got a bet going... it's fine, i can stay. it's really okay." the words tumbled out in a rushed stream.
natasha let out a chuckle through your nervous ramble. she placed her own cue down on the edge of the table and closed the distance between you. her hands came up to your shoulders.
"my darling girl," she said, meant only for you. "look at me. it is a game. it is a stupid game with a five-dollar bet that i will happily lose to maria if it means you stop looking so torn." she gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze. "this," she said, looking over your shoulder to where bucky was giving you the space to decide, "is not a game. you should go."
"but i feel awful," you insisted. "you guys brought me out to have fun with you, and i'm justβ"
"βhaving fun in a way we didn't expect?" she finished for you, the smile returning to her lips. "do you have any idea how long it's been since i've seen james barnes look at a woman like that? like she hung the damn moon and all the stars too?"
your brows knit together in genuine confusion. "what do you mean? like what?"
natasha's expression softened into a maternal look that you'd never seen on her. she leaned in closer. "i mean, since his divorce. a bit ago, now, i think. he hasn't so much as glanced at anyone in this bar, or anywhere else, as far as i know. he just... shut down. until tonight. until you."
your eyes went wide. divorce. the word landed in the pit of your stomach like a stone, instantly painting a deeper layer onto the man waiting behind you.
"he's... divorced?"
natasha just gave you a nod. "that's a story for him to tell, not me. if he wants to." she gave your shoulders one last squeeze before releasing you. "now, stop overthinking. go. go head over to the mysterious chateau de barnes. have fun. be safe. text me when you get home. or... you know. in the morning." she winked.
before you could even begin to process the emotional whiplash, she placed her hands squarely on your back and gave you a playful shove. you let out a yelp, arms pinwheeling for a moment as you stumbled backward, completely off-balance.
then you crashed into a wall of a man. two strong hands shot out to catch you, pulling you firmly against him before you could fall. your hands flying up to brace against his chest. you looked up, face burning in shock and embarrassment. bucky was looking down at you.
"sorry!" you and natasha called out in perfect unison.
natasha just waved a hand as she turned back to the pool table. "she's all yours, barnes! don't keep her out too late! she's a delicate flower!"
bucky's eyes narrowed towards natasha's direction. his attention returned to you, not letting go even though you were now stable. "you okay?" he asked.
"yeah, i'm okay. she just... she said it was okay to go. that the game didn't matter." you were babbling again, hyper-aware of the points of contact between his body and yours.
"she's right," he said, his thumb making a small, unconscious, soothing stroke against your arm. "it doesn't."
he loosened his grip, letting his hands fall away, though he stayed close enough. "the offer still stands," he said. "you still wanna get out of here?"
you glanced back one more time. natasha, without even looking at you, gave you a thumbs-up over her shoulder. sharon was dramatically miming kissing someone.Β
taking a deep, steadying breath, you felt all the nervousness and guilt finally melt away, replaced by anticipation. you looked up at bucky, at the man with a past you were suddenly,desperate to understand, and nodded, a easy smile finally breaking through your exterior.
"yeah," you said. "i really, really do."
the door of bucky's truck closed like it shut out the entire world. suddenly, the pounding was just a pulse, and the only real sound was the engine. you sink into the passenger seat, smooth against your bare thighs.
your hands scramble to find something to do, because sitting still felt impossible. your fingers twisted together in your lap, then picked at the hem of your sundress, smoothing it down only to nervously fiddle with it again. you stared straight ahead through the windshield, watching the neon signs of the bar blur into streaks of colour as bucky pulled out onto the late-night street.
the silence in the car was filled with everything that had just happened and everything that might. you could feel his presence beside you that seemed to take up all the available air.
"you okay?"
you nodded, a quick, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. you were okay. you were fine. you were just aware of every single thing: the scent of his truck, his hands looking so capable on that steering wheel.
he glanced over at you. "it's okay if you got cold feet, you know," he said, his tone gentle, no pressure in it at all. "i can turn this thing around right now. take you back to your friends. no questions asked."
the offer was so understanding, kind in a way that made your chest ache. it made you want to go with him even more. you shook your head, finding your voice. "no. no, i don't want to go back." you took a shaky breath. "where are we going?"
"i know a place," he said, his eyes were back on the road.
you couldn't help the small laugh that escaped you. "that's... that's a little ominous, you know. 'i know a place.' classic line from every horror movie ever."
you saw the flash of his smile in the darkness. "yeah," he chuckled. "i guess i see where you're coming from."
silence descended again, but it felt a little easier this time. he was driving higher as the lights of the city began to sprawl out. he looked over at you again. "what do you think is gonna happen tonight?"
your mouth went dry. you'd been trying very hard not to let your mind spiral down that particular path, because when it did, it conjured images that made your skin feel hot and your thoughts scatter. you hesitated, fingers frozen on the hem of your dress.
"i..." you swallowed, forcing the word out. "sex?"
as soon as the word left your lips, you wanted to claw it back, to vomit it back into your mouth. it was clumsy and naive and so revealing.
bucky let out a soft sound. he shook his head with almost sad smile on his face. "doll," he said, and the nickname, spoken in such a gentle tone, did something to your insides. "that'd be... real cute, i think. i mean it'd be great. but no."
the rejection should have stung. it was followed by such a sense of... care? respect? that it just left you confused. "no?"
"no," he said firmly. he downshifted as the road curved. "that's not why i asked you to leave with me."
before you could ask what the reason was, he was pulling the truck onto a gravel overlook, cutting the engine.Β
"c'mere," he told you.
he got out and came around to your side, opening your door before you could even reach for the handle. he offered you his hand. you took it, droawning in his grasp, and let him help you down.Β
then you turned around. it was city laid out below, a mosaic of light, glittering all the way to the horizon where it met the sky. it was gorgeous and peaceful.
"oh, bucky," the words are sigh of pure wonder. you walked forward on legs, your hands gripping on the stone wall at the edge. "it's... it's incredible."
he came to stand beside you, close enough that you could feel his arm near yours. he leaned back against the wall, watching you instead of the view. "i come up here sometimes. after a rough shift. helps to put things in perspective. makes all the noise down there seem... quieter."
you ripped your gaze from the skyline to look at him. the city lights reflected in his eyes, making them seem softer. his stoicism was gone, replaced by a sincerity that was more intimidating than any scowl could ever be.
"you brought me here to... get perspective?" you asked with a teasing smile on your lips.
"i brought you here 'cause i wanted to talk to you somewhere we could actually hear each other. and 'cause..." he paused, looking out over the city, searching for the right words. "...'cause you didn't seem like the kind of girl who'd want a drink shoved in her hand and a line whispered in her ear. you seemed like the kind of girl who'd appreciate a view."
he looked at you, in your dress with your stories about your hamster, and he saw you. not just something pretty to chase.
the tension was still there between you, but it had changed. it was less.. sexual. it was the tension of two people standing on the edge of something unknown, something that felt significant.
"it's better than a drink," you whispered, turning to fully face him, leaning your hip against the wall.
he mirrored your movement, turning toward you. he was so close now. you could see the strands of hair that had fallen across his forehead.
"yeah?" he asked.
"yeah," you echoed just as soft. your eyes dropped to his mouth. the air between you crackled, charged with everything that was unsaid. the promise of a kiss was definitely felt.
it seemed like he was frozen for while, just looking down at you, then, slowly, he lifted his right hand. his hand brushed against your cheek. they traced your jaw, as he tucked strands of hair behind your ear, stroking the spot just below your earlobe.Β
your eyes shut for a moment, and you could feel him leaning in, filling your senses. you tilted your face up, your lips parting just slightly. but he stopped.
his forehead came to rest against yours instead. you could feel the puff of his breath over your mouth. your eyes opened in confusion. his were squeezed shut, brows drawn together like he was in some kind of pain.
"bucky?" you whispered, your own voice betrayed you. the rejection from earlier rushed back. "what's wrong? did i... did i do something?"
he let out a long breath with his hands still around your face. the words tumbled out of him, like damage control. "no, doll. god, no. you didn't do a thing wrong. it's me. i'm... i'm goin' too fast. this is... i don't wanna mess this up. you have no idea."
the words should have been comforting, but all you heard was his hesitation, like it was a door closing right in your face. your shoulders slumped, leaving you feeling foolish.
you tried to pull back to put some air between you. "it's okay," the lie tasted bitter on your tongue. "you can take me home. i get it."
that's when his hand moved. coming up gently cupped your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. his thumb stroked your cheekbone.
"look at me," he said. when your tear-filled eyes met his, they were wide open now. "you think i don't want this? you think i'm not dyin' to kiss you right here, right now? that i can't feel you shaking?"
he searched your face, thumb still making those soothing circles. "i've been alone a long time. and the way i feel right now... it's a lot. it's good. it's so damn good it's scaring me a little." he took another breath, locking you in place. "i don't wanna be just another guy you meet in a bar. i don't wanna be a mistake you regret in the morning. not with you."
his thumg hadΒ brushed away a tear you didn't even realize had fallen out of shame and embarrassment. "i'd like to take you out on a date. a real one. where i pick you up at your door. where i get to hear more about fred the hamster and what kinda books you like. where i get to do this right."
the words were so unexpected, completely different from the narrative of disappointment spinning in your head. it wasn't rejection. it was a request, respect. it was him seeing you, all of you, and wanting more than just a kiss on a mountain the night you met.
"a date?"
a real, genuine smile finally broke through his expression. "yeah. a date. is that... would that be okay?"
a relief washed through you made your knees feel weak. you nodded. "yeah," your hand came up to cover his where it still cupped your face. "yeah, bucky. a date would be... it'd be really okay."
he leaned forward again, and this time, he didn't stop. he pressed a kiss to your forehead. when he pulled back, his eyes were lighter, filled with hopefulness.
"c'mon," he said, sliding his hand down from your face, lacing his fingers through yours. "i'll take you home."
a few days passed. then a week.
the city view had felt like a dream now, sweet and too perfect to be real. your phone remained silent. no calls. no texts. nothing.
you'd replayed the night over and over in your head until the memory felt fake. had you imagined the way he looked at you? the way he'd called you 'doll'? the way he'd asked for a date with such heartbreaking sincerity?
fred, sensing your mood, had been particularly judgy, refusing to even get on his wheel unless you read him a thrilling passage about naval battles. you were slumped on your couch, wearing your sweatpants and debating whether it was too early to eat a whole pint of ice cream, when a rapid knock sounded at your door.
you frowned. your heart did a foolish leap before you squashed it. it was probably just kids selling something. you padded to the door and pulled it open.
it was mrs. henderson from across the street, her white hair escaping its bun and her hands holding a faded handkerchief. "oh, dear! oh, thank goodness you're home"
"mrs. henderson? is everything alright?" you asked, your own worries were replaced with concern for the elderly woman.
"it's your cat, the white one! the fluffy devil!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger toward your front yard. "i saw the whole thing from my window. he shot out your kitchen window like a rocket and went straight up the big oak tree. he's been yowling for twenty minutes. i called the fire department for you, dear. they're on their way."
your blood ran cold. "alpine?" you whispered, head whipping toward the front window. "oh, no."
you didn't even bother with shoes. you shoved your feet into the rain boots by the door and flew out of your house, mrs. henderson anxious behind you. you ran to a halt on your front lawn, tilting your head back as you looked up.
and there he was. alpine, your dum dum white cat, was perched on a branch that looked thin, a good thirty feet in the air. his fur was puffed out to twice its size, and his high-pitched meows cut through the quiet neighborhood.
"alpine!" you cried out with panic. "you stupid, stupid creature! what did you do?"
as if on cue, the blaring sirens of fire engines grew louder in the suburban peace. two red trucks, unit 1917 emblazoned on the sides, rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of your house with the lights flashing.
this could not be happening.
the trucks swung open and they began to pile out. steve rogers was first, eyes immediately scanning for the source of the emergency. maria hill followed as she assessed the 'cat in tree' situation. sam wilson was grinning, already elbowing the man next to him. carol danvers hopped down from the driver's side. bob reynolds started pulling equipment out. and then there was john walker, who took one look at you in your rain boots and oversized sweater, then up at the tree, and let out a loud laugh that made you want to vanish into the earth.
"no way," john crowed, slapping his thigh. "it's the hamster girl! and her... what is that, a overgrown cotton ball?"
you flushed a deep, mortified, wrapping your arms around yourself. and then you saw him.
bucky barnes was the last one out of the second truck. he moved slower as he listened to steve point up into the tree. he followed his captain, eyes tracking up the trunk to where alpine was still serenading the neighborhood with distress.
then, as if pulled by a string, his eyes drifted down. down to the lawn. down to you.
his steps halted. his stoic, grumpiness completely shattered. a wave of red started at his neck and crept upwards, staining his cheeks and his ears a ruddy pink. he looked... caught.
maria was giving quiet orders, bob was unspooling a ladder, john was still making jokes at your expense, but it was all just noise. it was just you and him, staring at each other across your front lawn.
you, the picture of mortification in your disaster-day outfit. him, the picture of a firefighter, unable to put out the fire in his cheeks because of you.
steve clapped his hands together, breaking the spell. "alright, let's get this little guy down. barnes, you're on ladder duty. wilson, you're spotting."
bucky blinked, finally tears from you to look at his captain. he gave a nod. "yeah. copy that."
he helped bob steady the extension ladder against the trunk of the oak. he didn't look at you again, but you saw the way his jaw was tight, the way the blush still hadn't left his neck.
"you know," john stage-whispered to sam, loud enough for everyone to hear, "i thought this was a code for a real fire. not a code for 'my cat's being a diva'."
"shut it, walker," bucky grunted as he tested the ladder's stability. he started to climb.
alpine, seeing the large human approaching, let out a shriek and inched further out on the branch.
"it's okay, alpine!" you called up. "he's a friend! he's here to help!"
bucky paused on the ladder, glancing down at you. the mention of the cat's name seemed to startle him. "alpine?" he repeated to himself.
he reached the level of the branch, moving gently. "hey, buddy, c'mere. your mom's real worried about you."
he slowly reached out his flesh hand, letting alpine sniff his knuckles. the cat, after a moment of hesitation, gave a rub against his fingers. bucky then scooped the fluffy cat into his arms, tucking him against his chest. alpine immediately began to purr.
"traitor," you whispered fondly.
bucky descended the ladder with alpine cradled like precious cargo. when his boots hit the grass, he turned and walked toward you. everyone was watching. you could feel john's smirk especially.
he stopped in front of you. alpine peeked over his arm, blinking slowly at you as if to say, 'and what exactly was all the fuss about?'
"here," bucky said, softer than you remembered. he gently transferred the cat into your waiting arms. "he's okay. just spooked."
"thank you," you said outloud, holding alpine close. "i'm so sorry. i don't know how he got out. and i'm so sorry they called you for this. i know you have real emergencies toβ"
"'s okay," he interrupted, eyes meeting yours again. the blush was back, faint but there. "happens more than you think."
"yeah, to little old ladies and kids," john called out. "not to grown women who own hamsters named fred."
bucky's head snapped toward john, his expression instantly darkening. "walker," he said, like a warning that promised violence. "go check the truck's pressure. now."
the command was filled with authority that john's smirk instantly vanished. he looked like a scolded child. "you're not my lieutenant," but he turned and trudged back toward the fire truck anyway.
steve was trying to hide a smile. bob was pretending to be very interested in a leaf.
bucky shuffled his boots on the grass, looking down for a second before bringing his eyes back to you. he had a nervousness that mirrored your own. "so," he started, clearing his throat. "alpine, huh?"
you nodded, burying your face in your cat's fur for a second. "after the white wolf," you mumbled. "it seemed... fitting."
you saw his breath catch. he knew. of course he knew.
"i, uh..." he ran a hand through his hair, tousling it. "i meant to call. i've just... i've had your number sitting on my counter for a week. kept pickin' up the phone and puttin' it back down."
your eyes widened. "why?"
he let out a sigh, looking genuinely annoyed with himself. "'cause i wanted to do it right. plan something good. not just 'hey, wanna get a coffee?' and then i started overthinkin' it, and..." he gestured vaguely at the scene around youβthe fire trucks, his crew, your cat. "and then this happened."
a smile showed up across your face. he wasn't avoiding you, yet you could tell he was nervous. "so..." you prompted, shifting alpine in your arms. "what's the plan, then? for doing it right?"
"well, first i gotta get through the rest of this shift without walker gettin' himself written up," he said, jerking his thumb toward the trucks. "then... then i was thinkin' dinner. friday night. i pick you up at seven. we go somewhere quiet. and you can tell me the story of how a cat named alpine ended up in a tree."
alpine chose that moment to let out a demanding meow, as if giving his approval.
you laughed, clear as day in the afternoon air. "i think that sounds perfect."
he nodded, the blush returning. "good. it's a date." he took a small step toward his crew who were very obviously not doing any work and were just watching your exchange. "i'll, uh... i'll call you tonight. for real this time."
"i'd like that," you said softly.
he gave you one look that held a week's worth of hesitation and a whole lot of promise, before turning and walking back to his team. you heard sam immediately start in on him, his voice teasing. "a date, barnes? really? you use our emergency services to pick up women now?"
bucky's response was a grunt and a shove that sent sam stumbling, laughing.
you stood on your lawn, holding your cat, watching the man who had asked you on a date climb back into the truck. as the engines pulled away, bucky looked out the window. his eyes found yours, and offered a shy wave.
you waved back, a laugh bubbled up in your chest. alpine purred in your arms.
it was definitely better than a drink.
you were curled on the couch with fred nestled in the palm of your hand, tiny nose twitching as he investigated a sunflower seed.Β yet your mind kept drifting back to the look on bucky's face, and the promise of his call.
then a knock came at the door came. for the second time today.
it wasn't mrs. henderson. this was more hesitant in a way that made your heart stutter. fred, startled, scurried up your arm to hide in the crook of your neck. you froze. it came again, a little more sure this time.
nervously, you walkedto the door, fred now a small, warm on your shoulder. you didn't bother with the peephole, some strange instinct pulling you to just turn the knob and pull.
bucky barnes was standing on your welcome mat, still in his uniform t-shirt and pants. his hair was a mess, like he'd been running his hands through it for hours. and in his hands was a bouquet of roses, deep red and wrapped in paper.Β
"hi," he breathed out.
before you could even form a syllable, the words tumbled out of him.
"i was gonna call. i swear i was, i had the phone in my hand and everything, i was just workin' up the nerve, you gotta believe me, and then we got a call, a kitchen fire over on maple, and it was nothing big, just a grease fire, but this guy, he had one of those fire extinguishers that's like a cannon, and he got so nervous when we came in and he justβhe fumbled itβand it went flying and my phoneβit justβit justβ"
he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone, thrusting it toward you like it was evidence in a trial.
the screen was a spiderweb of shattered glass, a map of cracks danced across its surface. it was completely destroyed. "βsmashed it. i know how it looks, i know it sounds like a lie, the worst lie, like 'my dog ate my homework' or something, but i swear on my unit, it's the truth, and i justβi couldn't not come over, i had to explain, and i saw the flower stand was still open and i justβ"
he finally seemed to remember the flowers in his hand and thrust them toward you, too. the gesture was so desperately sweet, your heart felt like it was cracking open just like his phone screen.
he was breathing heavily, and his eyes searched yours for any sign of disbelief or rejection. he looked so unlike the stoic, grumpy statue from the bar, and nothing like the confident man who'd scaled your oak tree. he was just a man, a flustered and sincere man, standing on your doorstep past eleven with broken tech and perfect roses.
his shoulders slumped as his rapid-fire explanation ran out. his voice dropped to a low whisper. "and i really, really would like to kiss you right now."
you felt fred on your shoulder, looking like he'd wanted to smell bucky. a slow smile spread across your face. you reached out, fingers gently brushing against his as you took the bouquet from him.
"fred thinks it's a pretty good story," you whispered. "and so do i." you leaned forward on her feet. it was purely hesitant, like a test.
but that was all he needed. he moved quickly, lips finding yours. it was gentle. it was sweet. it tasted and felt like a beginning. when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
"hi," he said again. "hi," you whispered back, your free hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart under his shirt.
then his hands came up, cradling your jaw. he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.
"i know i said i'd wait," he whispered against you. "i know i said i wanted to do this right, take you on a date, all of it. and i meant it. i did. but..." he swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing. "i've been thinking of you all damn week. every shift, every call, every quiet moment. it's just your face. your smile. the way you talked about your hamster like he was the most important thing in the world. and i just..." he shook his head. "i can't fucking wait anymore."
before you could even form a response, he was closing the distance again. this kiss wasn't like the first one. it was much deeper and full of a week of pent-up want, his mouth moved over yours with desperation. one of his hands slid back into your hair, tilting your head to better angle his kiss, while the other stayed on your jaw, holding you to him.
you melted into it, the bouquet of roses crinkled as your hand came up to grip his bicep, holding on for dear life.Β
fred, displeased with the seismic activity, gave a tiny squeak. you barely noticed. all you could feel was bucky under your hand. it was messy and everything you didn't know you needed.
when he finally broke away, you were both breathing heavily, his forehead coming to rest against yours once more.Β "sorry," he breathed, though he didn't sound sorry at all. "i just... needed that."
"don't be sorry," you whispered. "i've been thinking about you all week, too."
a relieved smile finally broke across his face, transforming it completely. he stole one more quick kiss. "good," he hummed against your lips. "that's real good, doll." his hand stayed on your waist, his thumb brushes against your sweater. he glanced down at the forgotten roses in your hand. "so... can i still take you to dinner on friday? you know maybe we can go to my house or somethin'. i'm a pretty good chef. got a bit of experience in that arena."
you looked from his hopeful face to the shattered phone still in his other hand, to the roses, and then back to him. your absolutely grumpy and flustered firefighter. the thought of him leaving now, of closing this door and waiting more days, felt impossible.
you leaned into his touch, your free hand coming up to rest on his chest, right overΒ his heart. "yes," you said in a flirty whisper. "but only if you spend the night with me and get a new phone first."
the smile on his face faltered. his eyes dropped to your mouth, then back to your eyes, searching for any hint of a joke. he found none.
the hand on your waist tightened, pulling you against him. "christ, doll," he breathed. "you can't just say things like that."
"why not?" you whispered, tracing the line of his collar with your finger. "i thought you were done waiting."
"hey, little guy," bucky said. "your mom's a little busy right now."
he didn't even look away from your eyes as he bent, placing fred gently, safely, back into his enclosure just inside the door next to a half-finished cup of tea. the tiny hamster immediately began investigating this terrain as if it was brand new as bucky straightened back up.
"where were we?" he hummed, his hands finding your hips and pulling you back into him, erasing the last bit of space between you. the door swung shut behind him closing out the world and leaving only the two of you, the roses, and the promise of the long night ahead.
"how are you so good with hamsters?" you giggled. it was a stupid question, a desperate attempt to grasp onto something normal.
his thumb stroked your hipbone. "my son had one," he said, the words simple, casual, like he'd just commented on the weather.
it just... shifted. your breath audibly caught. "son?"
his eyes searched yours, the hunger in them momentarily eclipsed by something elseβvulnerability, fear. he bit his lower lip. "yeah. is that... is that a problem?"
all the pieces clicked into placeβthe patience, the maturity, the way he wanted to do things right. it made him infinitely more attractive. "oh my god," you whispered, a laugh bubbling up in your chest. "you're a dilf."
his brow furrowed in adorable confusion. his emotions were replaced with bewilderment. "a what?"
you couldn't help it. you laughed, and reached up to cupped his cheek, your thumb smoothing over the stubble there. "it's nothing. don't worry about it." you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. "it's definitely not a problem."
the reassurance was all he needed. the vulnerability vanished, burned away by the returning inferno. "good."
he took the bouquet of roses from your grip and placed it on the table right next to a very surprised fred in his enclosure. then he turned back to you, and crowded you back against the closed door.
his hands came up to cradle your face. "need to kiss you again," he mumbled with his voice a plea that was also a command. "properly this time. without any interruptions."
"yes," was all you could manage before his mouth crashed down on yours.
this kiss was different from all the others. it was all-consuming. it was all tongue and teeth and desperation. his hands slid from your face, tangling in your hair to tilt your head back, the other sliding down your neck, over your shoulder, down your side to grip your hip and pull you against his erection straining against his pants.
you arched into him, hands sliding under his station t-shirt to feel the hot skin on his back. he broke the kiss, trailing his mouth along your jaw, down your throat. "fuck, you feel good," he groaned against you.Β
his hands were everywhere, groping and squeezing, learning the shape of you through your clothes. one hand palmed your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple, making you buck against him.
"bucky," you gasped, your head fell back against the door.
"say it again," his mouth found yours again in a kiss. his metal hand slid down to grip your thigh, hiking your leg up around his hip.
"bucky," you moaned into his mouth, fingers digging into his shoulders. "please."
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes glazed with lust, lips wet from your kisses. "please what, doll?" he breathed, grinding against you again in a way that made you see stars. "tell me what you want. i'll give you anything. anything."
"you," you whimpered. "just you. all of you."
"that's my girl." he dipped his head and captured your mouth again. his hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer, molding you to him, until there was absolutely no space left between you, until the only thing in the world was his hands, his mouth.
the gap between your ages, his past, the world outside your doorβit all melted away, leaving nothing but this, nothing but him.
you had honestly barely registered the walk to your bedroom, a stumbling blur of tangled limbs and kisses.
he backed you through the hallway, his hands on your back, your waist, your hips, as if he needed to map every landmark of you through your clothes.
every few steps he'd stop to kiss you again, body pinning you gently against the wall for a moment before moving on, drawn toward your bed.
the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you tumbled down onto the comforter, pulling him down with you in a heap of laughter.
he caught himself on his elbows above you. "you sure about this?" he whispered, but his eyes were soft, full of a care that made your heart ache and swell at the same time. "we can still wait. i meant what i said. i'll wait forever for you if that's what you need. just say the word."
you reached up, framing his face with your hands, feeling his jaw under your palms. you pulled him down for a kiss, pouring every ounce of your certainty into it.
"i've never been more sure of anything in my life," you mumbled against his lips. "i don't want to wait. i want you. all of you."
he buried his face in the curve of your neck, breathing you in, his lips pressed to your throat. "okay, okay, doll."
then his hands were on you again, but the pace had changed. he took his sweet time, his fingers tracing the hem of your sweater before so slowly, peeling it up and over your head.
he tossed it aside, his eyes swallowing by the black pools as they drank in the sight of you. his fingers traced the line of your collarbone, then the gentle slope of your breast.
"so beautiful," like he was discovering something miraculous. he bent his head, lips following the path his fingers had taken, placing kisses along your skin.
he found the clasp of your bra, his fingers were cool against your spine for a second before the garment loosened. he drew it off your arms, tossing it aside, and you could hear the way his breathing changed the sight of you bare to him.
"christ," he whispered. his thumbs swept over your nipples again, first one then the other. then he lowered his mouth, tongue laving one nipple before drawing it into his mouth. you cried out, fingers fisting in his hair, holding him to you as pleasure, arrowed straight to your cunt.
he was thorough, achingly, devastatingly so. he worshipped every inch of you with his hands and his mouth, as if he had all the time in the world.
he kissed a trail down your stomach, making you squirm. he hooked his fingers into your sweatpants and your underwear, peeling them down your legs together, leaving you completely bare beneath him.
he pressed a kiss to the inside of each ankle, each knee, each thigh, and his stubble felt like an abrasion against your sensitive skin.
when you reached for the hem of his shirt, he sat back on his heels, pulling it over his head.
you reached out, your fingers traced a line that curved around his ribcage. he watched you, letting you explore, letting you see him.
"bucky," you mumbles, catching his attention further.
he captured your wandering hand, bringing your palm to his lips for a kiss. "it's just me, doll," he said. "all of it. every scar. every mistake. it's all yours if you'll have it."
tears pricked at your eyes. you pulled him down for a kiss, pouring every ounce of your feeling into it. your hands worked at the button of his pants in your urgency. he helped you, shoving them and his boxers down his hips, kicking them off the side of the bed.
and then he was there, fully naked above you. you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, feeling his cock press against your thigh.
he reached for his discarded pants, fumbling for his wallet, but you stopped him with your hand on his wrist.
"i'm on the pill," you whispered within the intimacy of the confession. "it's... it's safe. i want to feel you. just you."
he stilled completely, looking down at you. he nodded, swallowing hard. "okay." he lowered himself over you, bracing on one forearm, his other hand sliding between your bodies. his fingers found you, nearly ready for him. "fuck, you're so wet for me. so perfect."
he circled your clit slowly with the right amount of pressure, making you whimper against his hand. "please," you begged. "bucky, please, i need you."
he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock nudging against your folds. his eyes locked on yours as he pushed in slowly, giving you every second to feel the stretching fullness of him. he was watching every expression on your face, and a soft sound escaped you and he stilled immediately.
"okay?" he asked, straining with the effort of holding back. "am i hurting you? tell me, sweetheart."
you shook your head, overwhelming emotion finally escaping the corners of your eyes. "no," you choked out, wrapping your legs tighter around him. "you feel... you feel perfect. don't stop. please, don't stop."
he sank into you the rest of the way, burying himself in you. his forehead dropped to yours, both of you connected in the most intimate way possible.
"james," you whispered, the name feeling sacred and so absolutely right on your tongue.
he lifted his head, and began to move then with long, deep grinds of his hips that had you seeing stars.
this didn't feel like a race to the finish; it was a sensual exploration. every thrust was deliberate, meant to cherish, to wring every possible ounce of pleasure from both of you.
his hand tangled gently in your hair, the other hand gripping your hip, holding you close as he moved inside you with that pace. his mouth was everywhereβcatching your lips in a kiss, then tracing your ear, sucking a mark onto the sensitive skin of your neck, imprisoning a nipple in his mouth with attention.
"so good for me," he rasped against your skin. "so perfect. feel you everywhere, doll. wrapped around me so tight. like you were made for me."
you could only cling to him, moans and whimpers falling from your lips. your own pleasure grew tighter and tighter with every thrust. you'd never felt so full, so completely possessed and yet so loved.
all you could feel was him moving inside you, whispering praises in your ear, the sight of the love bites you'd left on his shoulder as he fucked into you.
he shifted, changing the angle, and on the next slow, deep thrust, he hit a spot inside you that made you see white. a cry left you.
"there?" he growled with satisfaction. "that's it, baby. right there." he focused on that angle, brushing over that perfect spot until you were sobbing with pleasure on the very edge of your arousal.
"look at me," he pleaded. "come on, doll, look at me. wanna see you. wanna see your eyes when you come."
you forced your eyes open, meeting his blue eyes. the connection was more intimate than the joining of your bodies. you could see it all thereβthe years of loneliness, the hope, the amount of care he felt for you in such short amount of time.
it was that look of unspoken connection, that sent you spiraling over the edge. your orgasm washed over you, like a silent wave of pleasure that made your body clamp down around his in pulses, your mouth falling open in a cry of bliss.
he watched you fall apart, shattering at the sight of your pleasure. the he buried his face in your neck, hips slowing down as he found chase his own orgasm, finishing himself offdeep inside you.
you were scared to move, scared to shatter this moment. he was warm and comforting above you that you never, ever wanted him to move.
he shifted eventually though, careful not to crush you beneath, and pulled out of you. he fell onto his side beside you, gathering you into his arms with your back against his chest so you were spooned against him.
he buried his face into your hair, leaving a kiss to your temple, as his arms held you tightly, scared might drift away like some dream.
"okay?" he murmured, sounded like wonder.
you nodded, snuggling into him, tangling your legs with his, feeling more content and safe than you could ever remember. "more than okay."
his arms tightened around you. with fred's wheel silent in his cage and the man you were already falling for holding you like you were his entire world, you felt a peace you'd never known.
you slowly drifted off to sleep to sound of his heartbeat, knowing, without a single doubt, that you were exactly where you were meant to be.
fred will be back in another story or two.
